Indeed, it’s cheap and pretty, so buy en masse,
And use this mug to wipe your arse.42
Equally revealing was an incident that took place on the eve of the nobility’s meeting with the emperor. Rostopchin’s claims of Jacobin, Martinist and other conspiracies fell on fertile ground as the Russian nobles were increasingly concerned by the effect the war might have on their serfs. To them, Napoleon’s name was associated with revolutionary ideals of freedom and equality, and his very presence inside Russia seemed to make the emancipation of the serfs inevitable. Such fears were certainly present among many nobles as they gathered, on 23 July, to welcome the emperor into the city. ‘Common people packed the square [inside the Kremlin] and suffocated each other on staircases,’ recalled one of the participants. The nobles, meanwhile, congregated inside one of the palaces, anxious to meet the emperor but also apprehensive over their own fate. One of the noblemen recalled:
Yet the emperor had not arrived. We began to worry and loud conversations soon turned into whispers, which, in turn, soon turned into silence. Suddenly barely audible voices pronounced that ‘the emperor has died’. We were all thunderstruck – everyone was ready to believe it and was afraid of everything. In the Spasskaya Tower the bells struck ten o’clock; the crowd on the square [outside the palace] began to wobble. [Upon seeing it, one of the noblemen] touched my elbow with his ice-cold hand and muttered, ‘That’s it, it is a revolt!’ This word passed from mouth to mouth and soon turned into a dull rumble …43
Yet such fears of a popular revolt and a massacre of the nobility were quickly dispelled when it became clear that the mob had quivered because of the arrival of an imperial messenger, who delivered the news that the emperor would arrive the following day. This incident is quite revealing for it shows the instinctive reaction of the Russian nobles at that tense moment: of all the possibilities, they envisioned a popular uprising.
Playing on these fears, Rostopchin was able to assert an almost autocratic authority to accomplish what he believed to be his most important mission: to rid his city of potential ‘troublemakers’ and to reinforce traditional order. Moscow had a sizeable enclave of French speakers,44 consisting of émigrés, merchants, governesses, actresses and tutors. Many of them had spent most of their lives in the city and considered Russia their second homeland. The Russian elites were thoroughly immersed in French language and culture at the expense of their Russian literacy. Russian officer (and future governor of Tobolsk) Alexander Turgenev recalled that he ‘knew numerous princes Troubetskoy, Dolgorukiis, Golitsyns, Obolenskis, Nesvitskis, Sherbatovs, Khovanskis, Volkonskis, Mescherskii – I cannot even name all of them now – who could not write two sentences in Russian but they all could eloquently utter improper words in Russian’. Batyushkov was startled to see this widespread emulation of foreign manners in Moscow:
Here everyone is lisping and grimacing in a foreign manner. Upon entering a candy shop at the Kuznetskii bridge … I encountered a great concourse of the Moscow dandies in polished leather boots and broad English frock-coats, some with glasses or without them, and all wearing a dishevelled hairstyle. These must be, of course, Englishmen … But no, he is Russian, born and raised in Suzdal. And that one must be a Frenchman, judging how he is lisping, and trying to charm the mistress with his story of a ventriloquist acquaintance, who had entertained the Parisians last year. And yet this old beau is also a Russian, who has not travelled far and, having squandered the family estate, is now living off card games …45
Similar sentiments were echoed by a British visitor, who commented:
Russia has many other Nationalities no doubt, but my experience has not been able to distinguish any excepting amongst the lower orders of People, for with respect to the higher I am sorry to say they imitate the French in everything! … They dress too in a bad imitation of the French & they have universally adopted their Language! … In the midst of this adoption of manners, customs & language there is something childishly Silly in their reprobating Buonaparte when they can’t eat their dinners without a French cook to dress it, when they can’t educate their Children without unprincipled adventurers from Paris to act as Tutors and Governesses, when every House of consequence (that I have seen at least) has an outcast Frenchman to instruct the Heir apparent – in a word, when every association of fashion, luxury, elegance, & fascination is drawn from France.46
Indeed, as one contemporary justly noted, ‘Seeing our aristocracy, with its French education and French manners, berating the French in the French language, must have created a rather strange impression.’47
As the French emperor headed the invasion, Rostopchin – whose spoken French remained superior to his Russian – questioned the allegiance of the French residing in Moscow, seeing them as preachers of free thinking. He had long claimed that the foreigners brought nothing but harm to Russia: ‘they are harmful to Russia … and are only waiting for the arrival of Bonaparte to proclaim freedom,’ Rostopchin had earlier told the emperor, beseeching him to ‘Rid Russia of this disease, Sire. Order sent back beyond the frontiers these conniving wretches whose sad influence corrupts the souls and minds of your virtuous subjects.’48 In the summer of 1812 Rostopchin still felt that his ‘main concern is the foreigners who are despised by our people’,49 and were potential spies in disguise. Rostopchin’s concerns were not entirely unjustified, since on the eve of the war Russian counter-intelligence had uncovered numerous French agents who, posing as merchants or travellers, had entered Russia and sought to gather intelligence on Russian preparations for war. During the war French agents were uncovered in St Petersburg and Smolensk, and even inside the headquarters of the Russian army.50
As far as the governor was concerned, spies could well be present in Moscow and extra diligence was required towards any foreigner. Thus, on his orders many suspected Frenchmen were arrested and some had to endure physical abuse: in late July two foreigners were exiled for ‘audacious speeches’.51 In August two more foreigners were whipped in public for their ‘false prophesying that, by the 15th of this month, Napoleon would be enjoying his lunch in Moscow’.52 The governor’s own French chef, Theodore Tournay, was whipped in the public square for ‘insinuations of various kinds that result in subversion of minds to the French cause’.53 Furthermore, Rostopchin deported dozens of foreigners – mostly French, but also Germans, Italians and others – in rather deplorable conditions from Moscow to provincial towns, accusing them of spying for Napoleon54 and warning that ‘the Russian people, so great and generous, is nevertheless ready to go to extremes. Therefore I am removing you [from Moscow] to spare the people a task and to avoid soiling history with the story of a massacre … Cease to be bad subjects and become good ones … Remain calm and submissive or fear severe punishment.’ By late August, to be taken for a free-thinking foreigner in Moscow was to risk abuse and detention. At the theatre plays were put on commemorating former Russian victories and the governor looked approvingly at the outcry against French as an aristocratic language and denounced the Russian gentry for employing French tutors.
Despite the many pressing issues he had to attend to, Rostopchin found time for a rather more absorbing task. Some months before the war David Alopeus, the Russian Minister to Stuttgart, met the young German inventor Franz Leppich, who had earlier approached King Frederick of Württemberg with the grand idea of constructing a new kind of flying machine. After Joseph and Étienne Montgolfier first flew them in 1783, hot air balloons had been used by the French military for reconnaissance. Leppich suggested improving their performance and turning them into fighting machines. The trouble with balloons, he explained, was their inability to fly against the wind, but by attaching wings they could be made to move in any direction. Although the idea seemed enticing, the King of Württemberg initially turned it down, especially after Napoleon had likewise rejected Leppich’s suggestion. But King Frederick later changed his mind and provided modest funding for Leppich’s experiments. The inventor was busy building his m
achine when, in early 1812, the Russian Minister approached him with a tempting offer to work in Russia. In his letter to Emperor Alexander, Alopeus described in detail a machine ‘shaped somewhat like a whale,’ capable of lifting ‘40 men with 12,000 pounds of explosives’ to bombard enemy positions, and sailing from Stuttgart to London in an incredible thirteen hours.55
Leppich’s project appealed to Alexander, especially as war with Napoleon was looming, and any ideas that might give Russia an edge sounded attractive.56 On 26 April Alexander approved the project and Leppich’s workshop was set up at a village near Moscow, where Rostopchin provided Leppich – now working under the alias ‘Schmidt’ and officially supervising the production of artillery ammunition – with all necessary resources. Maintaining secrecy around the project was of paramount importance, but difficult to maintain since suspicions were immediately aroused when guards were deployed around the estate. They were further heightened when Rostopchin placed large orders for fabric, sulphuric acid, file dust and other assets totalling a staggering 160,000 rubles.57 By July around a hundred labourers were working 17-hour shifts at the workshop.58 Leppich assured Rostopchin that the money was well spent and the flying machine would be completed by 15 August:59 presumably entire squadrons would soar into the skies above Moscow by autumn!
Rostopchin believed that this invention ‘could change the art of war’ and in early August he made the first public acknowledgement of Russia’s secret weapon, warning the residents of Moscow to expect ‘a large spherical balloon’ in the skies over the city. ‘I am warning you about it so that when you see it you will not think it comes from the Villain [Napoleon]. On the contrary, it is devised for his misfortune and downfall.’ Many Muscovites genuinely believed in the existence of this ‘super-weapon’ and one Senator even claimed to have seen it used in a test flight that targeted and destroyed a flock of sheep.60 However, the deadline passed without any results. By now the invasion was under way and Napoleon was already at Smolensk. Rostopchin, beginning to doubt Leppich, demanded results. The scientist promised to deliver the machine by 27 August, but when nothing was forthcoming Rostopchin wrote a letter to Alexander denouncing Leppich as a ‘charlatan and madman’. The machine was not completed by the time the battle of Borodino was fought, and the subsequent Allied advance threatened Leppich’s secret workshop. So it was loaded onto 130 wagons and moved to Nizhni Novgorod, while Leppich himself was recalled to St Petersburg.61
Rostopchin, who had spent his life moving in the highest court and administrative circles and had no understanding of the common people he supposed himself to be guiding, genuinely believed that his was the role of director of the popular feeling of ‘the heart of Russia’. Not only did it seem to him that he controlled the external actions of Moscow’s inhabitants but he was convinced ‘of the need to direct people’s mental attitude, incite popular anger and to prepare people to any kind of sacrifices in order to save the Fatherland’.62 He chose to accomplish this by means of newspapers and broadsheets. He closely followed the events on the front lines and corresponded with the army commanders, especially with Peter Bagration; he even dispatched a personal representative to the Russian army to receive first-hand information on the true state of affairs.63 The official Moskovskie vedomosti newspaper published numerous announcements revealing a large-scale mobilization of resources and manpower in and around the city. Militiamen were called up, new regiments raised, necessary equipment solicited and monetary contributions gathered.64 Throughout July and August Rostopchin remained convinced that the Russian armies would not allow Napoleon to approach the former capital of Russia, though his letters betray an increasing concern for such a possibility. A broadsheet on 26 August informed the Muscovites about the battle of Smolensk, though it did not convey the whole truth: the Russian retreat was described as a deliberate manoeuvre designed to weaken the enemy army. But convincing the increasingly sceptical inhabitants of the city’s safety was becoming difficult. The arrival of the news of the fall of Smolensk ‘astonished Moscow’, recalled Sergei Glinka.65 ‘Prior to the news of the fall of Smolensk,’ recalled prominent Muscovite merchant Mikhail Marakuev, ‘the public still entertained some hope [that the enemy would not reach Moscow]. But once this news broke out, all our hopes expired …’66
As the Russian armies retreated beyond Smolensk and Vyazma and the refugees and the wounded ‘arrived by the thousands each day in Moscow’,67 Rostopchin began considering evacuating key state institutions from the city. On 29 August he instructed Kriegs-Commissar A. Tatischev to ‘take necessary preliminary precautions’, while Major General Tolstoy, head of the military hospital, was told to make arrangements for the evacuation of the sick and wounded. The following day the Votchina Department, in charge of land management, was ordered to start removing its holdings.68 Over the next few days Rostopchin supervised arrangements for the evacuation of the treasury and major state manufacturing, which he ordered to be carried out at night so as not to alarm the residents of Moscow. However, the movement of hundreds of transports could hardly escape the eyes of a nervous population and it served only to confirm their fears. On 30 August Rostopchin admitted that the evacuation of the state institutions had a major impact on the public so ‘for the next three days I need to decide whether to evacuate the remaining items or not’.69
Meanwhile, to calm down the populace the governor continued publishing broadsheets and tried to contain any panic by laughing at those who fled the city and showed, in his opinion, such a premature cowardice. In a letter to Alexander Balashev, he admitted that ‘women, merchants and academic swine [tvar’] are leaving Moscow’ but also noted that ‘this makes the city only more spacious’.70 A new broadsheet declared that the report that the governor had forbidden people to leave Moscow was false; on the contrary he was glad that ladies and tradesmen’s wives were leaving the city since ‘there will be less panic and less gossip’. Yet he could ‘not commend their husbands, brothers and other [male] relatives’ who left the city together with their families. ‘If there is a danger to the city, [their behaviour] is rather indecent; if there is no danger, then it is even shameful.’ The governor then proudly declared that ‘I will stake my life on it that the enemy will not enter Moscow.’71 The following day Rostopchin’s new broadsheet acknowledged the growing uneasiness among the city residents. As many of the inhabitants of Moscow wished to be armed, the governor declared that weapons would be available for them at the Arsenal: sabres, pistols and muskets, all could be had at a low price.72 But the tone of the proclamation was no longer jovial and tongue-in-cheek, and its matter-of-fact delivery seemed to point to the terrible storm clouds gathering over the city. In fact, the governor’s declaration that he was not forbidding anyone to leave was false. Just as he published the broadsheet, Rostopchin also issued instructions to the Moscow municipality ‘not to issue passports to merchant men and urban commoners, except for their wives and little children’.73
By the first week of September many affluent residents, ignoring the governor’s assurances about the safety of the city, had packed their belongings and left. ‘There is utter confusion here,’ wrote Alexander Bulgakov to his brother on 25 August. ‘Hearing that the French captured Smolensk, everyone lost their heads and they are fleeing from the city.’74 With each passing day, wrote Nikolai Karamzin, ‘the city gets emptier and multitudes are fleeing’.75 In an effort to escape from the city, employees of many state and private institutions demanded advances on their pay, while merchants refused to issue any credits or loans, which greatly affected those workers who relied on these short-term loans to procure basic essentials.76 ‘Many people began getting out of Moscow, travelling wherever and however far they could,’ recalled one contemporary.77 The French actress and singer Madam Louise Fusil, who had been living in Russia for the past six years, described ‘a continuous procession of vehicles, carts, furniture, pictures, belongings of all sorts …’.78
While mulling over the evacuation, Rostopchin still entertained th
e hope that the complete evacuation of the city would not be necessary in light of the appointment of Mikhail Kutuzov as the commander-in-chief of the Russian armies. Kutuzov made repeated requests for resources,79 and assured Rostopchin that he would do his best to defend the former capital, noting that ‘I believe that the loss of Moscow would mean the loss of Russia.’ A few days later he reiterated that ‘all of my movements have been hitherto directed to a single goal of saving the capital city of Moscow’.80 In late August Rostopchin inquired about Kutuzov’s intentions concerning the defence of Moscow,81 and the Russian commander-in-chief reassured the governor that ‘with our armies we are going no further than Mozhaisk and there, with the Lord’s help and hope for Russian bravery, I shall give battle to the enemy’.82 Now that ‘the position near Mozhaisk has been chosen for a battle that would be crucial to saving Moscow’, Kutuzov again asked Rostopchin to assist with supplies: ‘Should the Almighty God bless our army, then we shall have to pursue the retreating enemy, in which case we must ensure, among other things, the procurement of victuals so that our pursuit is not stopped by supply shortages.’83 Rostopchin was probably pleased to receive such assurances from the commander-in-chief, believing that the enemy would be soon defeated and expelled from Russia.
The Burning of Moscow Page 9
