Russia Against Napoleon: The True Story of the Campaigns of War and Peace

by Dominic Lieven

  In certain respects the two young men were very different. Karl Nesselrode came from an aristocratic family from the Rhineland. His father’s career in the service of the Elector Palatine ended in dramatic style when the elector took objection to his wife’s infatuation with young Count Wilhelm. After serving the kings of France and Prussia, Wilhelm von Nesselrode worked as Russian minister in Portugal, where his son Karl was born and christened as an Anglican at the church of the British legation in Lisbon. Not until late adolescence did Karl Nesselrode have any experience of life in Russia but his subsequent marriage to the daughter of the finance minister, Dmitrii Gurev, strengthened his position in Petersburg society. Nesselrode was a calm, tactful and even at times self-effacing man. That led some observers to miss his great intelligence, subtlety and determination.

  No one ever called Aleksandr Chernyshev self-effacing. On the contrary, he was a genius at self-promotion. Chernyshev came from the Russian aristocracy. An uncle, Aleksandr Lanskoy, had been one of Catherine II’s lovers. Aleksandr Chernyshev first gained the Emperor Alexander’s attention at a ball given by Prince Kurakin to celebrate the tsar’s coronation in 1801. The poise, wit and confidence of the 15-year-old immediately struck the emperor and resulted in Chernyshev’s selection as an imperial page. This was to be a fitting start to the career of an elegant and handsome man who glittered in society and always loved the limelight. Chernyshev once wrote of a fellow-officer that he was ‘full of that noble ambition which obliges any individual who feels it to make himself known’. This certainly was a self-portrait too. But Chernyshev was much more than mere ambition and glitter: he was a man of outstanding intelligence, courage and resolution. Though an excellent soldier, in common with other intelligent aristocratic officers of his day his vision was far broader than the narrow military world. Just as Nesselrode’s reports sometimes discussed grand strategy, so too Chernyshev was deeply aware of the political context of Napoleonic warfare.32

  Together the two young men ran the Russian espionage operation in Paris. It helped that they saw eye to eye as regards French intentions and became firm friends. On the whole, as one would expect, Nesselrode’s sources were mostly diplomatic and Chernyshev’s most often military but there were many overlaps. Nesselrode, for example, procured one report on the military resources of the Duchy of Warsaw. He spent a good deal of money buying secret documents, paying 3,000– 4,000 francs for some memoranda. The serving French minister of police, Joseph Fouché, and the former foreign minister, Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand, both appear to have been providers of these materials but whether there were other intermediaries and precisely how payments were arranged and documents acquired are matters which Nesselrode – very sensibly – did not go into in his reports.

  The information he bought or otherwise acquired covered a range of topics. One report, for instance, concerned Napoleon’s eccentricities, eating habits and growing forgetfulness during a period at the palace of Rambouillet. Given the extent to which the survival of Napoleon’s empire and the fate of Europe hung on this one man’s life and health such reports were significant. Nesselrode begged Speransky to ensure that only he and the emperor saw or mentioned this material. These details of Napoleon’s behaviour were so private that any leak would result in his source being revealed. Nesselrode made a similar plea for total secrecy about another purchased memorandum detailing intelligence operations in Russia’s western borderlands and naming many names. He added that his source for this document was extremely valuable and could produce further such documents if protected. The crucial point was that Russian counter-intelligence must watch the individuals mentioned but stage its arrests in a manner to protect his source at all costs.33

  Probably the single most important document bought by Nesselrode was a top secret memorandum on future French policy submitted by the French foreign minister, Champagny, to Napoleon at the emperor’s request on 16 March 1810, in other words at precisely the crucial turning point when the plan to marry a Russian princess had failed, Napoleon had refused to ratify the convention on Poland, and Barclay de Tolly was drawing up his first report on the defence of Russia’s western frontier. Champagny wrote that geopolitics and trade meant that Britain was Russia’s natural ally and a rapprochement between the two powers was to be expected. France must return to its traditional policy of building up Turkey, Poland and Sweden. It must, for instance, ensure that the Turks were kept ready as allies for a future war with Russia. Indeed, French agents were already working quietly on the Ottomans to this end.

  As regards Poland, even Champagny’s more modest scenario was to increase the power of the King of Saxony, who was also Grand Duke of Warsaw, by giving him Silesia. A second scenario, which Champagny called ‘more grandiose and decisive and perhaps more worthy of Your Majesty’s genius’, envisaged a full-scale restoration of Poland after a victorious war with Russia. This would entail pushing the Russian border back beyond the river Dnieper, turning Austria eastwards against Russia and compensating it in Illyria for Polish lands it would have to give to the new Polish kingdom. In all circumstances Prussia must be destroyed since it was an outpost of Russian influence in Europe. Within a matter of weeks the memorandum was on Alexander’s desk. In the circumstances its contents were little short of dynamite.34

  Aleksandr Chernyshev also had a number of permanent, paid agents. One of them worked in the council of state near the heart of Napoleon’s government, another was in military administration, and a third served in a key bureau of the war ministry. There may well have been more, at least on an occasional basis. The published documents provide rather more details about the content of their reports than is the case with most of the memoranda purchased by Nesselrode. We have everything from general memoranda on the domestic political situation and the position in Spain to detailed information about the redeployment of artillery to infantry battalions, the organization of transport and rear services for future campaigns, and reports on new arms and equipment.

  Some of these documents bore explicitly on the coming war with Russia. Chernyshev reported that Napoleon was rapidly increasing his cavalry arm, his measures proving ‘how much he fears the superiority of our cavalry’. Special wagons – larger and stronger than the previous models – were being built to survive Russian conditions. Chernyshev disguised himself to get into one of the workshops where they were being constructed and drew sketches. He reported that one of his sources stated that Napoleon intended to deliver the decisive blow by his central column, which would advance on Vilna under the emperor’s own command. He expected to be able to recruit large numbers of Polish soldiers in Russia’s western borderlands. Probably Chernyshev’s most valuable agent was the officer in the heart of the war ministry who had worked previously for the Russians but whom Chernyshev now exploited to maximum effect. Every month the ministry printed a secret book listing the numbers, movements and deployment of every regiment in the army. On each occasion a copy was delivered to Chernyshev, which he re-copied overnight. The Russians could follow the redeployment of Napoleon’s army eastwards in precise detail. Given the sheer scale and cost of this redeployment one could hardly imagine that it would end without a war, as Chernyshev himself remarked.35

  Both Chernyshev and Nesselrode were far more than mere purchasers of secret memoranda. They moved in Paris society, gleaning an immense amount of information along the way. Some but by no means all of this information was provided by Frenchmen who disliked Napoleon’s regime. Chernyshev in particular was accepted into the heart of Napoleon’s own family and intimate circle. King Frederick William wrote to Alexander that Prussian diplomats reported that Chernyshev’s ‘relations with many individuals provide him with means and opportunities that no one else possesses’. Because of their intelligence and political sophistication Nesselrode and Chernyshev could evaluate the huge amounts of information they received and encapsulate it in the very shrewd appreciations they sent to Petersburg. Both men, for instance, were at pains to disabuse Alexander
of any illusions that Napoleon would not or could not attack Russia so long as the war in Spain continued. They stressed the enormous resources he controlled but also the implications of his domestic problems for his campaign in Russia. Both men reported that the longer the war dragged on and the further Napoleon was pulled into the Russian interior the more desperate his situation would become.36

  The last report that Chernyshev submitted to Barclay de Tolly from Paris gives one a flavour of his overall views and methods, as well as of the aristocratic confidence with which this young colonel wrote to a minister far his senior in age and rank. He noted that ‘I speak often to officers who are of great merit and knowledge and who have no affection for the head of the French government. I have asked them about what strategy would be best in the coming war, taking into account the theatre of operations, the strength and the character of our adversary.’ With one accord these Frenchmen had told him that Napoleon would long for big battles and rapid victories, so the Russians should avoid giving him what he wanted and should instead harass him with their light forces. The French officers told him that ‘the system we should follow in this war is the one of which Fabius and indeed Lord Wellington offer the best examples. It is true that our task will be more difficult in that the theatre of operations is for the most part open countryside.’ Partly for that reason, it was crucial to have large reserve forces held well in the rear so that the war could not be lost by a single battle. But if the Russians could ‘sustain this war for three campaigns then the victory will certainly be ours, even if we don’t win great victories, and Europe will be delivered from its oppressor’. Chernyshev added that this was very much his own view too. Russia must mobilize all its resources, religion and patriotism included, to sustain a long war. ‘Napoleon’s goal and his hopes are all directed towards concentrating sufficient strength to deliver crushing blows and decide the matter in a single campaign. He feels strongly that he cannot remain away from Paris for more than one year and that he would be lost if this war lasted for two or three years.’37

  From the summer of 1810 onwards it was clear to Alexander and most of his key advisers that war was inevitable, and sooner rather than later. At best its outbreak might be postponed for a year or so. In these circumstances the key point was to prepare as effectively as possible to fight the coming war. Preparation for war occurred in three distinct spheres: there were the purely military plans and preparations (to be discussed in the next chapter); the diplomatic efforts to ensure that Russia fought Napoleon with as many friends and as few enemies as possible; and, last but not least, the government needed to create the greatest possible degree of internal unity and consensus if Russia was to survive the enormous shock of Napoleon’s invasion. Though in principle distinct, the military, diplomatic and domestic political spheres in fact overlapped. For example, whether or not Prussia fought in the Russian or enemy camp depended greatly on whether Alexander adopted an offensive or defensive military strategy.

  Inevitably too, as war loomed, the influence of the army and, above all, of Mikhail Barclay de Tolly grew. The war minister invaded the diplomatic sphere by, for example, insisting on the need to end the war with the Ottomans immediately. He also stressed the key importance of raising the morale and national pride of the population. In an important letter to Alexander in early February 1812 Barclay noted that, apart from narrowly military preparations,

  we must try to raise the morale and spirit of Russia’s own population and arouse its commitment to a war on whose outcome Russia’s very salvation and existence will depend. I make bold to add here that for the last twenty years we have been doing all we can to suppress everything that is truly national but a great nation which changes its customs and values overnight will quickly go into decline unless the government stops this process and takes measures for the nation’s resurrection. And can anything aid this process better than love for one’s sovereign and one’s country, a feeling of pride at the thought that one is Russian in heart and soul? These feelings can only be brought forth if the government takes the lead in this matter.38

  Mikhail Barclay de Tolly was of course not an ethnic Russian. Originally of Scottish origin, his family had settled in the Baltic provinces in the mid-seventeenth century. To most Russians he was just another Baltic German. During the 1812 campaign this made him the target of savage attacks and libels by many Russians. But Barclay’s advice to Alexander in February 1812 echoed exactly what the nationalists in the ‘Old Russian’ and ‘isolationist’ camp had been saying for many years. The best-known public figures in the ‘Old Russian’ camp were Admiral Aleksandr Shishkov in Petersburg and Count Fedor Rostopchin in Moscow. Russia’s leading historian, Nikolai Karamzin, and Serge Glinka, the editor of a patriotic journal, were close to Rostopchin. Karamzin was a scholar and a ‘public intellectual’, with no personal political ambitions. Though an admiral, Aleksandr Shishkov had not served afloat since 1797 and behaved much more like a professor than a military officer. A kind and generous person in his personal relations, he became a tiger when defending the cause to which he devoted much of his life, which was the preservation of the national purity of the Russian language and its ancient Slavonic roots from corruption by imported Western words and concepts.

  Count Fedor Rostopchin shared the commitment of Karamzin and Shishkov to preserving Russian culture and values from foreign influences. The fictional stories he published between 1807 and 1812 all aimed at this goal and made a big impact. His fictional hero, Sila Bogatyrev, was a no-nonsense squire who stood up for traditional Russian values and thoroughly distrusted all foreigners. In his view, French tutors were corrupting Russian youth. Meanwhile the Russian state was being manipulated by the English and tricked by the French into sacrificing its blood and treasure for their interests. Unlike Karamzin and Shishkov, Rostopchin was extremely ambitious and a politician to his fingertips. A favourite of Paul I, he had been out of office ever since Paul’s death. Alexander distrusted the Russian nationalists and disliked their ideas. He particularly disliked Rostopchin. The count was indeed in many ways a ruthless and unpleasant man. Though a great nationalist, he had none of Karamzin’s or Glinka’s generous or warm feelings towards the ordinary Russian. On the contrary, in Rostopchin’s view ‘the rabble’ could never be trusted and must be ruled through repression and manipulation.

  Rostopchin was a sharp and amusing conversationalist. He could be unguarded. It is said that he once commented that Austerlitz was God’s revenge on Alexander for the part he had played in his father’s overthrow. The emperor took his own high-mindedness very seriously and did not take kindly to sly comments at his expense. His father’s murder and his own role in the disaster at Austerlitz were the bitterest memories of his life. But Alexander too was an exquisite politician. He knew that he had to use even men he disliked, particularly at a moment of supreme crisis such as the impending war with Napoleon. However much he disliked Rostopchin and distrusted his ideas, Alexander knew that the count was an efficient and resolute administrator, and a skilful politician. Above all he was a fine propagandist, absolutely loyal to the regime but with a handle on the emotions of the masses, whose behaviour would matter greatly in the event of a war on Russian soil. In 1810 Rostopchin was given a senior position at court, though encouraged not to put in too many appearances. He was kept available in case of need.39

  The person who brought Alexander and Rostopchin back into contact was the Grand Duchess Catherine. After her marriage, Catherine’s husband was appointed governor-general of three central Russian provinces in 1809. He and his wife took up residence in Tver, within easy distance of Moscow. Catherine’s salon in Tver attracted many intelligent and ambitious visitors, including Rostopchin and Karamzin. Her reputation as the most ‘Russian’ member of the imperial family was well known. It was she who commissioned Nikolai Karamzin to write his Memoir on Ancient and Modern Russia, which was to be the most influential and famous expression of the ‘Old Russian’ viewpoint. The influence of the M
emoir had nothing to do with any impact on public opinion. The work was designed for Alexander’s eyes alone. Given its sharp criticism of government policies the Memoir could never have been published at that time and remained unknown to any but a tiny circle for many decades. Karamzin delivered the Memoir to Catherine in February 1811. The next month, when Alexander stayed in Tver with his sister, Catherine summoned Karamzin to meet the emperor, to read passages from the Memoir to him, and to discuss its ideas with the monarch.

  Karamzin sharply criticized Russian foreign policy in Alexander’s reign. In his view, the empire had been dragged into quarrels which were not its concern and had often lost sight of its own interests. The crafty British were always alive to the possibility of getting other countries to bear the main burden of Britain’s ancestral struggle with France. As for the French and Austrians, whichever empire dominated European affairs would deride Russia and call it ‘an Asiatic country’. Apart from reflecting these deep-rooted Russian insecurities and resentments, Karamzin also made many specific criticisms. In the winter of 1806–7 either Bennigsen’s army should have been massively reinforced or Russia should have made peace with Napoleon. The actual peace treaty signed at Tilsit was a disaster. Russia’s overriding interest was that Poland must never be resurrected. Allowing the creation of the Duchy of Warsaw was a major error. To avoid this, no doubt Silesia would have had to be left to Napoleon and Prussia abandoned. This was unfortunate but in foreign affairs one had to consult one’s own self-interest alone. The alliance with France was fundamentally flawed.

  Shall we deceive Napoleon? Facts are facts. He knows that inwardly we detest him, because we fear him; he had occasion to observe our more than questionable enthusiasm in the last Austrian war. This ambivalence of ours was not a new mistake, but an inescapable consequence of the position in which we had been put by the Tilsit peace. Is it easy to keep a promise to assist one’s natural enemy and to increase his power?40