Chapter Chapter 218 · 第218章

Many historians say that the French did not win the battle of Borodinó

because Napoleon had a cold, and that if he had not had a cold the

orders he gave before and during the battle would have been still more

full of genius and Russia would have been lost and the face of the world

have been changed. To historians who believe that Russia was shaped

by the will of one man—Peter the Great—and that France from a republic

became an empire and French armies went to Russia at the will of one

man—Napoleon—to say that Russia remained a power because Napoleon had a

bad cold on the twenty-fourth of August may seem logical and convincing.

If it had depended on Napoleon’s will to fight or not to fight the

battle of Borodinó, and if this or that other arrangement depended on

his will, then evidently a cold affecting the manifestation of his will

might have saved Russia, and consequently the valet who omitted to bring

Napoleon his waterproof boots on the twenty-fourth would have been

the savior of Russia. Along that line of thought such a deduction is

indubitable, as indubitable as the deduction Voltaire made in jest

(without knowing what he was jesting at) when he saw that the Massacre

of St. Bartholomew was due to Charles IX’s stomach being deranged. But

to men who do not admit that Russia was formed by the will of one man,

Peter I, or that the French Empire was formed and the war with Russia

begun by the will of one man, Napoleon, that argument seems not merely

untrue and irrational, but contrary to all human reality. To the

question of what causes historic events another answer presents itself,

namely, that the course of human events is predetermined from on

high—depends on the coincidence of the wills of all who take part in the

events, and that a Napoleon’s influence on the course of these events is

purely external and fictitious.

Strange as at first glance it may seem to suppose that the Massacre of

St. Bartholomew was not due to Charles IX’s will, though he gave the

order for it and thought it was done as a result of that order; and

strange as it may seem to suppose that the slaughter of eighty thousand

men at Borodinó was not due to Napoleon’s will, though he ordered the

commencement and conduct of the battle and thought it was done

because he ordered it; strange as these suppositions appear, yet human

dignity—which tells me that each of us is, if not more at least not less

a man than the great Napoleon—demands the acceptance of that solution of

the question, and historic investigation abundantly confirms it.

At the battle of Borodinó Napoleon shot at no one and killed no one.

That was all done by the soldiers. Therefore it was not he who killed

people.

The French soldiers went to kill and be killed at the battle of Borodinó

not because of Napoleon’s orders but by their own volition. The whole

army—French, Italian, German, Polish, and Dutch—hungry, ragged, and

weary of the campaign, felt at the sight of an army blocking their road

to Moscow that the wine was drawn and must be drunk. Had Napoleon then

forbidden them to fight the Russians, they would have killed him and

have proceeded to fight the Russians because it was inevitable.

When they heard Napoleon’s proclamation offering them, as compensation

for mutilation and death, the words of posterity about their having been

in the battle before Moscow, they cried “Vive l’Empereur!” just as they

had cried “Vive l’Empereur!” at the sight of the portrait of the boy

piercing the terrestrial globe with a toy stick, and just as they would

have cried “Vive l’Empereur!” at any nonsense that might be told them.

There was nothing left for them to do but cry “Vive l’Empereur!” and go

to fight, in order to get food and rest as conquerors in Moscow. So it

was not because of Napoleon’s commands that they killed their fellow

men.

And it was not Napoleon who directed the course of the battle, for none

of his orders were executed and during the battle he did not know what

was going on before him. So the way in which these people killed one

another was not decided by Napoleon’s will but occurred independently of

him, in accord with the will of hundreds of thousands of people who took

part in the common action. It only seemed to Napoleon that it all took

place by his will. And so the question whether he had or had not a

cold has no more historic interest than the cold of the least of the

transport soldiers.

Moreover, the assertion made by various writers that his cold was

the cause of his dispositions not being as well-planned as on former

occasions, and of his orders during the battle not being as good as

previously, is quite baseless, which again shows that Napoleon’s cold on

the twenty-sixth of August was unimportant.

The dispositions cited above are not at all worse, but are even

better, than previous dispositions by which he had won victories. His

pseudo-orders during the battle were also no worse than formerly, but

much the same as usual. These dispositions and orders only seem worse

than previous ones because the battle of Borodinó was the first Napoleon

did not win. The profoundest and most excellent dispositions and orders

seem very bad, and every learned militarist criticizes them with looks

of importance, when they relate to a battle that has been lost, and the

very worst dispositions and orders seem very good, and serious people

fill whole volumes to demonstrate their merits, when they relate to a

battle that has been won.

The dispositions drawn up by Weyrother for the battle of Austerlitz were

a model of perfection for that kind of composition, but still they were

criticized—criticized for their very perfection, for their excessive

minuteness.

Napoleon at the battle of Borodinó fulfilled his office as

representative of authority as well as, and even better than, at other

battles. He did nothing harmful to the progress of the battle; he

inclined to the most reasonable opinions, he made no confusion, did not

contradict himself, did not get frightened or run away from the field of

battle, but with his great tact and military experience carried out his

role of appearing to command, calmly and with dignity.