My father observed that it was rather for the victor to make offers of peace.
5 Mortier, Edouanl Adolphe ( 1 768- 1 835) , Duke of Treviso. general under the Revolution and Napoleon, Marshal of France. Killed, 1 835, by the infernal machine of Fieschi. ( Tr. )
6 Fain, Francois, Baron ( 1 778-1837), French historian and secretary of Napoleon. ( Tr. )
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'I have done what I could; I have sent to Kutuzov:7 he will not enter into negotiations and does not bring my proposals to the cognisance of the Tsar. If they want war, it is not my faultthey shall have war.'
After all this comedy my father asked him for a pass to leave Moscow.
'I have ordered no passes to be given to any one ; why are you going? What are you afraid of? I have ordered the markets to be opened.'
The Emperor of the French apparently forgot at that moment that, in addition to open markets, it is as well to have a house with a roof, and that life in the Tverskoy Square in the midst of enemy soldiers was anything but agreeable.
My father pointed this out to him; Napoleon thought a moment and suddenly asked:
'Will you undertake to convey a letter from me to the Emperor? On that condition I will command them to give you a permit to leave the town with all your household.'
'I would accept your Majesty's offer,' my father observed, 'but it is difficult for me to guarantee that it will reach him.'
'Will you give me your word of honour that you will make every effort to deliver the letter in person? '
'Je m'engage sur mon honneur, Sire.'
'That is enough. I will send for you. Are you in need of anything?'
'Of a roof for my family whil e I am here. Nothing else.'
'The Due de Trevise will do what he can.'
Mortier did, in fact, give us a room in the Governor-General's house, and gave orders that we should be furnished with provisions; his maitre d'hotel even sent us wine. A few days passed in this way, after which Mortier sent an adjutant, at four o'clock one morning, to summon my father to the Kremlin.
The fire had attained terrific dimensions during those days; the scorched air, opaque with smoke, was becoming insufferably hot. Napoleon was dressed and was walking about the room, looking careworn and out of temper; he was beginning to feel that his singed laurels would before long be frozen, and there would be no getting out of it here with a jest, as in Egypt. The plan of the campaign was absurd; except Napoleon, everybody knew it: Ney, Narbonne, Berthier, and officers of lower rank; to 7 Kutuzov, Mikhail Illarionovich ( 1 745-1 8 1 3 ) , Commander-in-Chief of the Russian army in 1 8 1 2. (Tr.)
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all objections he had replied with the cabbalistic word 'Moscow' ; in Moscow even he guessed the truth.
When my father went in, Napoleon took a sealed letter that was lying on the table, handed it to him and said, bowing him out: 'I rely on your word of honour.' On the envelope was written: 'A mon frere l'Empereur Alexandre.'
The permit given to my father has survived; it is signed by the Duke of Treviso and countersigned by the oberpolitsmeyster of Moscow, Lesseps. A few outsiders, hearing of our permit, joined us, begging my father to take them in the guise of servants or relations. An open wagonette was given us for the wounded old man, my mother and my nurse; the others walked.
A few Uhlans escorted us on horseback as far as the Russian rearguard, at the sight of which they wished us a good journey and galloped back. A minute later the Cossacks surrounded the strange refugees and led them to the headquarters of the rearguard. There Wintsengerode and Ilovaysky the Fourth were in command.
Wintsengerode, hearing of the letter, told my father that he would send him on immediately, with two dragoons, to the Tsar in Petersburg.
'What's to be done with your people?' asked the Cossack general, Ilovaysky. 'It is impossible for them to stay here. They are not out of musket-shot, and a real action may be expected any day.'
My father begged that we should, if possible, be taken to his Yaroslavl estate, but incidentally observed that he had not a kopeck with him.
'We will settle up afterwards,' said Ilovaysky, 'and do not worry yourself: I give you my word to send them.'
My father was taken by the military courier system along a road made of fascines in the style of those days. For us Ilovaysky procured some sort of an old conveyance and sent us to the nearest town with a party of French prisoners and an escort of Cossacks; he provided us with money for our expenses until we reached Yaroslavl, and altogether did everything he possibly could in the bustle and apprehension of wartime.
My father was taken straight to Count Arakcheyev8 and detained in his house. The Count asked for the letter, but my father told him he had given his word of honour to deliver it in B Arakcheyev, Aleksey Andreyevich, Count ( 1 769-1 834) , Minister of VVar and the most powerful and influential man of the reign of Alexander I, whose intimate friend he was, hated and dreaded for his cruelty. (Tr.)
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person; Arakcheyev promised to ask the Tsar, and, next day, informed him by letter that the Tsar had charged him to take the letter and to deliver it immediately. He gave a receipt for the letter: that, too, has survived. For a month my father remained under arrest in Arakcheyev's house; no one was allowed to see him except S. S. Shishkov, who came at the Tsar's command to question him concerning the details of the fire, of the enemy's entry into Moscow, and his interview with Napoleon ; he was the first eye-witness to arrive in Petersburg. At last Arakcheyev informed my father that the Tsar had ordered his release, and did not hold him to blame for accepting a permit from the enemy in consideration of the extremity in which he was placed.
On setting him free Arakcheyev commanded him to leave Petersburg immediately without seeing anybody except his elder brother, to whom he was allowed to say good-bye.
On reaching at nightfall the little Yaroslavl village, my father found us in a peasant's hut (he had no house on that estate) . I was asleep on a bench under the window; the window did not close properly, and the snow, drifting through the crack, covered part of the bench and lay, not thawing, on the window-sill.
Everyone was in a state of great perturbation, especially mother. A few days before my father's arrival, the village elder and some of the house-serfs had run hastily in the morning into the hut where she was living, trying to explain something by gestures and insisting on her following them. At that time my mother did not speak a word of Russian ; all she could make out was that the matter concerned Pavel lvanovich; she did not know what to think ; the idea occurred to her that they had killed him, or that they meant to kill him and afterwards her.