“Human life is short and fleeting, and many millions of individuals, who share in it, are swallowed by that monster of oblivion which is waiting for them with ever-open jaws. It is thus a very thank-worthy task to try to rescue something— – the memory of interesting and important events, or the leading features and personages of some epoch— – from the general shipwreck of the world.” Arthur Schopenhauer

Friday, August 16, 2013

Alexander Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii, The Journal of the 1814 Campaign - Part 3

IN PARIS AT LAST

Morning of 19 March – Caulaincourt – Emperor’s departure from Bondy – Approach to Paris – The Suburbs of Monmartre – Boulevards – Champs-Elysées – Reviews - Evening

At dawn of a beautiful morning of 19 [31] March, the generals and officers of His Majesty's suite, began to descend into the broad court before the castle of Bondy. Meeting each other shook hands and remained silent. Around 6 a.m. arrived the deputies of the municipality of Paris in their state carriages; they were in such a panic that could barely speak. They were followed by a man on horseback, who appearance was well known to us all - it was Caulaincourt, sent by Napoleon with an offer to accept the peace.  The soldier of the Life Guard Preobrazhenskii Regiment, who was standing sentry, told him he must dismount, and the French Minister was obliged to comply. On seeing the officers assembled in the court, he took off his hat, and with downcast eyes passed by us. While the Emperor was informed of his arrival, I was asked to engage him in a conversation so I requested him to walk into the castle. I must confess here that it was not without a feeling of satisfaction that I beheld the humiliation of this upstart, who, notwithstanding his sincere attachment to Emperor Alexander, and his persevering efforts to dissuade Napoleon from the war with Russia, had set no bounds to his overbearing pride while he was [the French] ambassador at St. Petersburg. The Emperor passed more than an hour with him and, judging from [Caulaincourt’s] troubled air on leaving the audience chamber, we concluded that his offers had been rejected. Precisely at eight o'clock, the Emperor mounted his horse named Mars. On the road he encountered the King of Prussia, and a little way farther, the [Russian] Guard. No pen is able to describe the enthusiasm with which he was hailed by the Guard soldiers. Some three verstas [2 miles] from the city appeared the Parisians, all asking one question, “Where is Emperor Alexander?”

The numerous edifices of Paris gradually came fully into view. Some of our officers had rode into town early in the morning with orders of different kinds, and, on their return, increased, by their accounts, our general excitement to get to the capital. All were burning with impatience to enter a city which had so long assumed the right of giving law to the world in matters of taste, fashion and enlightenment; in which were unrivaled treasures of art and science; which contained all the intricate pleasures of life; where laws were issued for nations and chains were made to enslave them; and from where armies marched to every corner of Europe. In short, the city was considered the capital of the world. To crown their two years' series of victories, nothing was wanting to the Russians but the triumphant possession of Paris. Until that moment, it was impossible to enjoy the fruits of so many bloody battles and victories gained in the last two years. Every step, which separated us from the city, prevented us from fully embracing the feeling of satisfaction that Russia was avenged. But another minute and the mighty Empire, which had extended from the Baltic Sea to the Tagus River, shaken to its very foundations, and tottering to its fall, would have crumbled. The fall of great Powers is akin to the death of great men: it leaves certain emptiness in this world and questions immediately arise of who would take up a place of the man who just passed away?

At nine o'clock in the morning we reached the suburbs of Paris. The Guard Light Cavalry Division moved first, with Leib-Cossacks at its head; the Emperor was at some distance behind it, surrounded by a brilliant suit and followed first by the grenadiers, then Guard infantry, cuirassiers and several battalions of Austrians, Prussians and Badenese. The morning was beautiful and the air was becoming clearer and crisper with every passing hour. A countless multitude crowded the streets, and the roofs and windows of the houses. At first it seemed as if the inhabitants were still under the influence of fear, for their acclamation was not general. Their puzzlement continued for a few minutes, during which they kept continually asking us and one another, "Where is the Emperor?" "There he is, there is Alexander," exclaimed they. "How graciously he nods to us; with what kindness he speaks with us!" The French, who had pictured to themselves the Russians as half-wild men, worn out by long campaigns, speaking a language altogether unknown to them, and dressed in a wild outlandish fashion, could hardly believe their eyes, when they saw the smart Russian uniforms, the glittering arms, the joyous expression of our men, their healthy countenances, and the kind deportment of the officers. Our officers’ sharp repartees in the French language completed their astonishment.  "You are not Russians," they said to us, “you are surely émigrés." A short time, however, served to convince them of the contrary, and the news of the incredible accomplishments of the conquerors flew from mouth to mouth. The praises of the Russians knew no bounds; the women from the windows and balconies welcomed us, by waving their white handkerchiefs and from one end of Paris the cry of "Long live Alexander! Long live the Russians!" was uttered by a million of voices.

In the meantime, we passed through the suburbs of Montmartre, and turned off to the right along the Boulevards, where the festive crowd soon became prodigious. Indeed, it was hardly possible to make one's way on horseback: the inhabitants kept constantly stopping our horses, and launching out in praise of Alexander, they rarely alluded to the other Allies; very rarely could one hear the shots of “Vive Francis!” or Vive Frederick!” Emboldened by the affability of Emperor [Alexander], they began to wish for a change of government and to proclaim the Bourbons; white cockades appeared in the hats, and white handkerchiefs in the air; many people, gathering around His Majesty, requesting that he would remain in France. “Reign over us," said they, " or give us a Monarch like yourself."

Passing in front of rows of magnificent buildings and monuments, erected to perpetuate the glory of the French arms, we finally reached the Champs-Elysées, where the Emperor halted and reviewed the troops which marched past him. The Parisians rushed here from every quarter, lured by the novelty of this spectacle. The French women requested us to dismount, and allow them to stand on the saddles, in order to have a better view of the Emperor. The march was opened by the Austrians. In spite of their utmost efforts of the gendarmes could contain people and the curious Parisians crowded the ranks of Austrians troops. But the moment the Russian grenadiers and Guard infantrymen appeared, the French were so struck with their truly military exterior, that they did not require even to be told to clear the way: all at once, as if by a secret unanimous consent, they retired far beyond the line traced for the spectators. They gazed, with silent admiration, on the Guard and grenadiers, and acknowledged that their army, even at the most brilliant epoch of the French Empire, was never in such order as were these two corps after three immortal campaigns.
The review ended about five o'clock in the afternoon, when His Majesty [Alexander] retired to the house of M. [Charles Maurice] Talleyrand, where he resided during the early period of his stay in Paris. A part of the troops mounted guard, and the rest took up the quarters assigned them in the town. At that moment the mob [chern’] began to insult the monuments which had been erected in honour of the previous ruler of the French. But the majority of the inhabitants still seemed lost in wonder, as if not believing what they saw with their eyes, and kept asking each other if it were really true that their conquerors were enlightened and compassionate. Is it possible, they asked, that Alexander can limit his triumph to securing the happiness of the country he has subdued? Evening at length came to give that repose which was equally necessary to the victors and the vanquished; the streets were gradually thinned of their crowds, and a general stillness ensued which was the more sensible, that during the course of the preceding days every breast had been agitated by various hopes and wishes which had been crowned by the most fortunate events. All we saw and felt was so fully equal to our expectations, that the consummation of our happiness was perfect. We were left powerless out of happiness.

I could not sleep that night. Around midnight I went into the street; there was no one there. Near the house where the Emperor had taken up his abode, was posted a battalion of the Life Guard Preobrazhenskii Regiment, while His Majesty's company occupied the yard. All lights were extinguished. No light could be seen in the Tuilleries Palace either. This ancient edifice, which served as the palace for the Bourbons, the assembly place of the republican governments and later the palace of the ruler of the wealthiest countries of Europe – but a building which Emperor Alexander did not deem worthy of his stay – was guarded by a Russian guard post. Amidst the midnight silence, I reached Palais Royal, where all parties, that reigned over France in the last 25 years, had first tested their powers. In the gardens and galleries I could see thousands of Parisians, carried away by various passions and thoughts. Some looked up into the sky and sighed heavily, but most gathered around various speakers. Some of them praised the Bourbons, under whose royal scepter their ancestors lived for centuries; others extolled their past victories [under Napoleon] and thought it prudent to do nothing drastic while awaiting for the arrival of the Emperor at the head of his army. What I saw here gave me first and real understanding of revolutionary events and people’s gatherings. Despite the diversity of their opinions, they all respected a Russian uniform: I walked throughout Palais Royal, stopped by the crowds of Parisians and was everywhere met with great courtesy. I then went to a coffee house and barely managed to take a seat when the locals began to drink a toast to the Russian officer’s health. Finally, walking along deserted streets, I returned home. So perfectly were the rules of discipline observed by our army, that no disorder was heard of, although over 50,000 foreign troops passed the night in the city. Not a sound was heard in the streets save for the call of the Russian sentries.

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