pertinent, when the magnitude of this day's operations, and the consequences to which they led, are taken into consideration. A battle in which about 80,000 human beings were destroyed, is not an ordinary occurrence, even in this age of military exploits; and deserves, therefore, to be recorded with a minuteness, which, in other circumstances, would be trifling and inexcusable. It has been demanded, with some appearance of reason, why Prince Kutu soff did not follow up this victory which had cost him so dear, and why he afterwards left the ancient capital of Russia exposed to the intrusion of the vanquished? To this question various answers have been given, some of them dictated by prejudice, and others which seem founded on a know. ledge of the military events which preceded the battle of Borodino, as well as of the plans of the Russian chief which were soon developed. The Russian armies have not been often beaten in the field, but few occa sions have occurred in which they were able to profit by the victories they have achieved. They are but ill qualified for rapid movement, or for repairing with alacrity the disorganization which even a victory such as that of Borodi no must have produced. They had already suffered extreme fatigue, and numerous privations, that department of the army on which the comfort of a soldier depends being most lamentably defective in the Russian service. The French indeed were fatigued, and had suffered privations; but they had other motives than their enemies to pursue their march without relaxation. They sought safety and repose, the Russians had both; and it is not wonderful that in this condition their leader should have thought of giving them some relaxation. It would not have been humane-it might not have been prudent in him, to have hurried them into new trials of their patience and for titude. The intelligence which Kutusoff received, that the enemy had still in his rear strong reserves of troops who had not been engaged on the preceding day, would, of itself, if all other arguments had been unavailing, have confirmed him in the resolution of waiting till his army should have recovered by repose, and gained strength by the reinforcements which were every day advancing, and which promised him an early 'opportunity of meeting the invader with the full assurance of success. But this is not the only circumstance in the conduct of the Russian chief which excited surprise. His not following up the victory of Borodino admitted of some explanation ; but a feeling of astonishment was universal among those to whom his plans were unknown, when they learned his determination to abandon Moscow to its fate-Moscow, the ancient and venerable capital of the Russians the grand repository of their wealth, and the centre of their patriotic affections. For such a city it might have been expected that even a beaten army would have continued to struggle; but that the conquerors should willingly give it up to destruction, seemed wholly inexplicable. Yet no sooner did the prince learn that the French had been strongly reinforced, and were advancing, than he marched his army through Moscow, and took up a position on the Kalouga road.The French were thus enabled to march directly on the capital, and at noon, on the 14th of September, they appeared before it. To explain the singular determination which Prince Kutusoff had taken, he addressed to the emperor on the 16th of September, a letter which discovers the extent of his military genius. He began by stating, that the late victory, glorious as it had been to the Russian arms, had cost him many lives; and that his army, encumbered with sick and wounded, was but ill prepared to meet the fresh troops which it was known that the enemy could bring forward. In these circumstances, it would have been unwise to risk another battle, and he therefore determined on retiring. No position of any strength presented itself betwixt Borodino and Moscow; the fresh troops of the enemy already threatened the Russian lines; his whole force was now double that of the Russians, and a general engagement could therefore have promised little hope of success. A defeat before the walls of Moscow, while no measures had been taken to abandon the city, would have exposed it to be entered in triumph by the invader, to whom its wealth and resources of all kinds would have become available. The resolution was therefore taken to abandon the capital, after removing its treasures, and to present to the enemy, on his entrance, no prospect but that of famine and desolation. The sacrifice of Moscow was a dreadful alternative to every Russsian, said the Prince, but it was a sacrifice of part for the preservation of the whole-of a great city, to the independence of a mighty empire. Had Moscow been defended to the last extremity, the rich provinces of Toula and Kalouga, from which the resources of the army were drawn, must have been abandoned; the army would have been ruined, and the empire might have been lost. By relinquishing Moscow, the Russian army became masters of the Toula and Kalouga roads, covered these fertile provinces, maintained its communications uninterrupted with the corps of Tormozoff and Tchichagoff, interrupted the enemy's line of operations from Smolensko to Moscow, cut off the supplies which he expected from his rear, and actually blockaded him in the capital. The occupation of Twer by General Winzengerode completed the line which was drawn around the enemy; and the Russian general-in-chief promised that Moscow would very soon be evacuated by its new possessors. This reasoning was unanswerable, and appeared so even at the time to the Russian emperor, who was filled with admiration of the genius displayed by the general-in-chief.-Had the arguments of Prince Kutusoff been less cogent in themselves, it is proba ble, at all events, that the ruin which so quickly overtook the French, would, long ere this time, have silenced all controversy on the subject. Yet there is one remark which prejudice may still render necessary. The final destruction of the French army was not, as some persons affect to believe, the consequence of accident alone, of the inclemency of the season, and the burning of Moscow, but the result of a concerted plan of operations on the part of the Russian generals, on which they relied with confidence from the moment that the enemy threatened to advance into the interior of the country. The views which Kutusoff thus unfolded to his master on the 16th of September, 1812, and which were so signally confirmed in the events of the succeeding winter, were formed even before the enemy had entered the capital. No better proof than this can be required, that the ruin of the invaders was not the effect of accident, but of design-not imputable to the climate alone, but to the martial genius of the Russian commander, who so promptly availed himself of the various expedients which were calculated to ensure the ultimate triumph of his country. - The plans of the prince were understood and appreciated by his court. Yet, as the occupation of Moscow would naturally fill the vulgar mind with despondency and alarm, the emperor determined to give the unequivocal sanction of the government to the operations of the armies, and once more addressed his people. "Moscow," said he, "was entered by the enemy on the 15th September; at this intelligence it might be expected that consternation would appear on every countenance; but far from us be such pusillanimity. Rather let us swear to redouble our perseverance and our resolution; let us hope, that fighting in a just cause, we shall hurl back upon the enemy all the evil with which he seeks to overwhelm us. Moscow, indeed, is occupied by French troops; it has not become theirs in consequence of their having destroyed our armies: The commander-in-chief, in concert with the most distinguished of our generals, has deemed it prudent to bend for a moment to necessity. He retires only to give additional force to the weight with which he will fall on our enemy. Then will the short triumph of the French ruler lead to his inevitable destruction. He finds in Moscow not only no means for domination, but no means of existence. Our forces already surrounding Moscow, to which every day is bringing an accession of strength, will occupy all the roads, and destroy every detachment the enemy may send forth in search of provisions. Thus will he be fatally convinced of his error, in calculating that the possession of Moscow would be the conquest of the empire; and necessity will at last compel him to fly from famine through the ranks of our intrepid army. Without doubt, the bold, or rather it should be called the rash enterprise, of penetrating into the bosom of Russia, nay, of occupying its ancient capital, feeds the pride of the supposed conqueror, but it is the fatal point to which his destinies have dragged him on. He has not yet penetrated into a country where one of his actions has diffused terror, or brought a single Russian to submit. Is there an individual in the empire so abject as to despond when a feeling of vengeance animates his brethren? When the enemy, deprived of all his resources, and exhausting his strength from day to day, sees himself in the midst of a powerful nation, encircled by her armies, one of which menaces him in front, while the other three watch to interrupt the arrival of succours, and to prevent his escape, can Russians be alarmed?"-The whole of this address shewed that the emperor and the government were well aware of the nature of the contest which they had to sustain that they understood and concurred in the plans of the general, and waited with firmness the entire overthrow of the enemy as the result of his admirable combinations. - Meanwhile, Count Rostopschin, the military governor of Moscow, had wisely prepared for the event, which he, as well as the other Russian chiefs, had expected. He had done every thing to equip and organise for the army the inhabitants, whose age and sex qualified them for taking the field. He had been careful to remove the women and children, the sick and aged; and he had withdrawn every thing which could be serviceable to the enemy. The scene which Moscow now presented was shocking to humanity; every attempt to describe it must prove abortive. Two hundred thousand human beings of both sexes and of all ages were driven from their homes, ignorant where they might seek protection, and exposed to the inclemency of a Russian winter, which was fast approaching. But there were no sacrifices which this devoted people would not have made, rather than remain exposed to the ferocity of their enemies. They had heard of the excesses in which he was accustomed to indulge; they were not ignorant of the murders, rapine, and sacrilege which he had so often committed; and the biting frosts, the endless fa tigues, the famine and misery of all kinds to which they knew that they must now expose themselves, filled not their minds with half the horror which was inspired by the presence of the invader. The greater part of them abandoned their homes with precipita tion; a few only of those whose minds were influenced by a stronger impulse -who had vowed revenge on the invader, and determined to perish in a desperate attempt for its gratification, remained. The governor, having made every preparation which circumstances permitted, gave the signal for evacuating the city, and at the head of 40,000 of its brave inhabitants, proceeded to join the grand Russian army. The enemy appeared before Moscow: his advanced guard, under Murat and Beauharnois, first entered the city, and proceeded towards the Kremlin, the ancient palace of the czars, which was ineffectually defended by a small band of those who still lingered in the capital. The gates were rapidly forced; but scarcely had the French accomplished this inglorious achievement, when a scene presented itself which threatened to baffle all their hopes. The city was discovered to be on fire in different quarters; and in whatever way the flames may have been first kindled, so brutal was the violence of the French soldiers-such their desire of seizing on the plunder of that great city, which their leader had so long promised them as the reward of their toils, and so zealous their exertions to increase the confusion which might favour their base designs, that, far from endeavouring to extinguish the conflagration, they were most active to increase it-They were little aware of the long train of miseries which they were thus preparing for themselves. It did not suit the dignity of Buo VOL. V. PART I. naparte, it would seem, to make his entrance into Moscow till he should be attended by the constituted authorities, and hailed as a conqueror.-He waited at the barrier leading to the Smolensko road, expecting that a deputation of the citizens would quickly arrive; but after a delay of many hours, no such deputation was descried. He sent a Polish general to re mind the citizens of their duty; but the general brought him information that there were no longer any constituted authorities in Moscow; that he had found it a desart, and expected soon to see it a heap of ruins.-The French ruler still cherished a hope that the solemn farce, which he so much desired, might in one way or other be accomplished; and in the meantime he fixed his residence in the Petrofsky palace, about a mile from the city.-The next day, however, he was compelled to give way to necessity, and he entered the city without parade or ostentation, deeply incensed by his disappointment, and meditating schemes of revenge. He took possession of the Kremlin and, yielding to the gloomy passions with which his soul was filled, he determined on an exemplary punishment of Russian patriotism.-While his dark consultations proceeded, the flames spread even to the very walls of the palace. The rage of the disappointed tyrant no longer knew any bounds and he instantly ordered his satellites to seize all Russians who might be found near the spot, or could be suspected of participating in the destruction of the city. One hundred of these unhappy persons were soon brought before him; they were questioned as to their proceedings, and a pardon was offered them on condition of their divulging the pretended conspiracy; but they remained silent, and despised the threats and promises of their ene 2 A my. The mock trial was soon ended; the Russian patriots were ordered to immediate execution, and died with the assurance and constancy of true virtue. There are some persons who have pretended to apologise for this act of judicial murder, and who have even ventured to maintain, before insulted humanity, that these proceedings were conformable to the law of nations. Their arguments are puerile, as their feelings have always been base; and the mere statement of the fact, that a hundred loyal Russians, who were faithful to their allegiance, and sacrificed their lives to the chance of annoying their invaders, were punished as criminals, must be enough to raise against the perpetrators of such enormities the universal hatred of mankind. Buonaparte was in possession of Moscow, no doubt; but every Russian, whether soldier or citizen, owed it to his emperor and his country, that he should do every thing in his power to dislodge the enemy. It is only since the French revolution has made the world familiar with crimes, and habituated the mind to the most daring violations of international law, that invaders have pretended to chastise the faithful inhabitants of an insulted country for rising in its defence. The sacred law of self-preservation calls on every man, when his country is invaded, to arm in its support; and from the moment he does so he is a soldier. It was the duty of the Russian army to have dislodged the inva. der from Moscow, by all the means which it could employ; and the same was the duty of every loyal and patriotic citizen. When Buonaparte therefore dared to punish with death the brave men who tried to expel him and his soldiers from the ancient capital of their country, by the only means which fortune had now left them, he committed a more flagrant outrage on public law and on humanity than ever be fore occurred in the history even of his own life, already stained with every species of atrocity. The cruelties of a tyrant begin and end in cowardice. It was fear that induced Buonaparte to make that terrible example; and after he made it, his fears seemed still to increase. He was afraid that the attempt to burn the Kremlin would be repeated; and he consented to become a prisoner in this palace, and ordered that every entrance to it should be shut, except one which was open only to his favourites and confidential officers. His efforts, however, to preserve Moscow were unavailing, although his pride and his necessities equally called upon him to save it from destruction, He had promised the wealth of this capital as the reward of his soldiers; its spacious palaces as their retreat for the winter; and he had anxiously expected that from this great city he should give the law to the Russian empire, and consummate his authority on the continent. But the flames were spreading rapidly in all directions, and the entire destruction of Moscow already seemed inevitable.-The description even of an eye-witness must convey but an imperfect idea of this scene of horror; yet as it can afford the only ap proximation to truth, the following sketch shall be inserted." From the night of yesterday, September 14th," says the narrator, "until that of the 19th, the fire blazed in all quarters. It first broke out near the Foundling Hospital, and almost immediately af terwards on the side of the city close to the Stone Bridge, and in the neighbourhood of the palace which the King of Naples selected for his resi dence. A third and more extensive fire broke out and spread itself along the centre of the town. The inhabi tants beheld their burning houses with a resignation which evidently proceeded from the belief that they should not |