ON THE NIGHT of the 1st of September Kutuzov gave the Russian troops the command to fall back across Moscow to the Ryazan road.

The first troops moved that night, marching deliberately and in steady order. But at dawn the retreating troops on reaching the Dorogomilov bridge saw before them, crowding on the other side, and hurrying over the bridge, and blocking the streets and alleys on the same side, and bearing down upon them from behind, immense masses of soldiers. And the troops were overtaken by causeless panic and haste. There was a general rush forward towards the bridge, on to the bridge, to the fords and to the boats. Kutuzov had himself driven by back streets to the other side of Moscow.

At ten o'clock in the morning of the 2nd of September the only troops left in the Dorogomilov suburbs were the regiments of the rear-guard, and the crush was over. The army was already on the further side of Moscow, and out of the town altogether.

At the same time, at ten o'clock in the morning of the 2nd of September, Napoleon was standing in the midst of his troops on Poklonny Hill, gazing at the spectacle that lay before him. From the 26th of August to the 2nd of September, from the day of Borodino to the entrance into Moscow, all that agitating, that memorable week, there had been that extraordinarily beautiful autumn weather, which always comes as a surprise, when though the sun is low in the sky it shines more warmly than in spring, when everything is glistening in the pure, limpid air, so that the eyes are dazzled, while the chest is braced and refreshed inhaling the fragrant autumn air; when the nights even are warm, and when in these dark, warm nights golden stars are continually falling from the sky, to the delight or terror of all who watch them.

At ten o'clock on the 2nd of September the morning light was full of the beauty of fairyland. From Poklonny Hill Moscow lay stretching wide below with her river, her gardens, and her churches, and seemed to be living a life of her own, her cupolas twinkling like stars in the sunlight.

At the sight of the strange town, with its new forms of unfamiliar architecture, Napoleon felt something of that envious and uneasy curiosity that men feel at the sight of the aspects of a strange life, knowing nothing of them. It was clear that that town was teeming with vigorous life. By those indefinable tokens by which one can infallibly tell from a distance a live body from a dead one, Napoleon could detect from Poklonny Hill the throb of life in the town, and could feel, as it were, the breathing of that beautiful, great being. Every Russian gazing at Moscow feels she is the mother; every foreigner gazing at her, and ignorant of her significance as the mother city, must be aware of the feminine character of the town, and Napoleon felt it.

“This Asiatic city with the innumerable churches, Moscow the holy. Here it is at last, the famous city! It was high time,” said Napoleon; and dismounting from his horse he bade them open the plan of Moscow before him, and sent for his interpreter, Lelorme d'Ideville.

“A city occupied by the enemy is like a girl who has lost her honour,” he thought (it was the phrase he had uttered to Tutchkov at Smolensk). And from that point of view he gazed at the Oriental beauty who lay for the first time before his eyes. He felt it strange himself that the desire so long cherished, and thought so impossible, had at last come to pass. In the clear morning light he gazed at the town, and then at the plan, looking up its details, and the certainty of possessing it agitated and awed him.

“But how could it be otherwise?” he thought. “Here is this capital, she lies at my feet awaiting her fate. Where is Alexander now, and what is he thinking? A strange, beautiful, and grand city! And a strange and grand moment is this! In what light must I appear to them?” he mused, thinking of his soldiers. “Here is the city—the reward for all those of little faith,” he thought, looking round at his suite and the approaching troops, forming into ranks.

“One word of mine, one wave of my arm, and the ancient capital of the Tsar is no more. But my clemency is ever prompt to stoop to the vanquished. I must be magnanimous and truly great. But no, it is not true that I am in Moscow,” the idea suddenly struck him. “She lies at my feet, though, her golden domes and crosses flashing and twinkling in the sun. But I will spare her. On the ancient monuments of barbarism and despotism I will inscribe the great words of justice and mercy … Alexander will feel that more bitterly than anything; I know him.” (It seemed to Napoleon that the chief import of what had happened lay in his personal contest with Alexander.) “From the heights of the Kremlin—yes, that's the Kremlin, yes—I will dictate to them the laws of justice, I will teach them the meaning of true civilisation, I will make the generations of boyards to enshrine their conqueror's name in love. I will tell the deputation that I have not sought, and do not seek, war; but I have been waging war only with the deceitful policy of their court; that I love and respect Alexander, and that in Moscow I will accept terms of peace worthy of myself and my peoples. I have no wish to take advantage of the fortune of war to humiliate their honoured Emperor. ‘Boyards,' I will say to them, ‘I do not seek war; I seek the peace and welfare of all my subjects.' But I know their presence will inspire me, and I shall speak to them as I always do, clearly, impressively, and greatly. But can it be true that I am in Moscow! Yes, there she is!”

“Let the boyards be brought to me,” he said, addressing his suite. A general, with a brilliant suite of adjutants, galloped off at once to fetch the boyards.

Two hours passed. Napoleon had lunched, and was again standing on the same spot on the Poklonny Hill, waiting for the deputation. His speech to the boyards had by now taken definite shape in his mind. The speech was full of dignity and of greatness, as Napoleon understood it. Napoleon was himself carried away by the magnanimity with which he intended to act in Moscow. In imagination he had already fixed the days for a “réunion dans le palais des Czars,” at which the great Russian nobles were to mingle with the courtiers of the French Emperor. In thought he had appointed a governor capable of winning the hearts of the people. Having heard that Moscow was full of religious institutions, he had mentally decided that his bounty was to be showered on these institutions. He imagined that as in Africa he had had to sit in a mosque wearing a burnous, in Moscow he must be gracious and bountiful as the Tsars. And being, like every Frenchman, unable to imagine anything moving without a reference to sa chère, sa tendre, sa pauvre mère, he decided finally to touch the Russian heart, that he would have inscribed on all these charitable foundations in large letters, “Dedicated to my beloved mother,” or simply, “Maison de ma mère,” he decided. “But am I really in Moscow? Yes, there she lies before me; but why is the deputation from the city so long in coming?” he wondered.

Meanwhile a whispered and agitated consultation was being held among his generals and marshals in the rear of the suite. The adjutants sent to bring the deputation had come back with the news that Moscow was empty, that every one had left or was leaving the city. The faces of all the suite were pale and perturbed. It was not that Moscow had been abandoned by its inhabitants (grave as that fact appeared) that alarmed them. They were in alarm at the idea of making the fact known to the Emperor; they could not see how, without putting his majesty into the terrible position, called by the French ridicule, to inform him that he had been waiting so long for the boyards in vain, that there was a drunken mob, but no one else in Moscow. Some of the suite maintained that come what may, they must anyway scrape up a deputation of some sort; others opposed this view, and asserted that the Emperor must be carefully and skilfully prepared, and then told the truth.

“We shall have to tell him all the same,” said some gentleman of the suite.… “But, gentlemen …”

The position was the more difficult as the Emperor, pondering on his magnanimous plans, was walking patiently up and down before the map of the city, shading his eyes to look from time to time along the road to Moscow, with a proud and happy smile.

“But it's awkward …” the gentlemen-in-waiting kept repeating, shrugging their shoulders and unable to bring themselves to settle the terrible word in their minds: “le ridicule.…”

Meanwhile the Emperor, weary of waiting in vain, and with his actor's instinct feeling that the great moment, being too long deferred, was beginning to lose its grandeur, made a sign with his hand. A solitary cannon shot gave the signal, and the invading army marched into Moscow—at the Tver, the Kaluga, and the Dorogomilov gates. More and more rapidly, vying with one another, at a quick run and a trot, the troops marched in, concealed in the clouds of dust they raised, and making the air ring with their deafening shouts.

Tempted on by the advance of the army, Napoleon too rode as far as the Dorogomilov gate, but there he halted again, and dismounting walked about the Kamerkolezhsky wall for a long time, waiting for the deputation.

九月一日晚，库图佐夫发布了俄军经莫斯科撤退至梁赞公路的命令。

夜里开拔了首批部队，这支夜间行军的队伍从容不迫，缓慢地庄重地前进，但在黎明出发的部队快要行至多罗戈米洛夫桥时，就向前望去，在另一边，是拥挤的匆忙过桥的军队，而在这一边，是拥塞大街小巷的军队，在队伍后面，是接踵而来的望不到尽头的庞大队伍。毫无缘由的匆忙和惊慌支配着军队。人人争先恐后地挤向桥头，挤上桥去，或者挤向浅滩，挤上渡船。库图佐夫吩咐随从把马车从后街绕到莫斯科的另一边去。

到九月二日上午十点钟为止，在多罗戈米洛夫郊野只剩下后卫部队了。军队已经到了莫斯科的另一侧，有的已经到了莫斯科以远。

与此同时，在九月二日上午十点，拿破仑随同自己的军队站在波克隆山上，望着展开在他面前的景观。自八月二十六日起，至九月二日当天止，从波罗底诺战役到敌人进占莫斯科，这整个惊惶的可堪记忆的一周的全部日子，都是不寻常的令人吃惊的大好秋光，低垂的太阳照耀得比春天更温暖，在爽朗明净的空气中，万物闪闪发光，令人目眩，呼吸这沁人的空气，令你心胸振奋而舒适，就连夜晚也是温暖的，在这一周的漆黑而温暖的夜里，不时从天上撒落金色的星星，真令人又惊又喜。

九月二日上午十点，就是这样的天气。晨光魔幻般美妙。莫斯科从波克隆山起，向前广阔地伸展，河水蜿蜒，花园和教堂星罗棋布，屋宇的穹窿在阳光下有如星星般闪烁，它似乎在过着日常生活。

面对从未见过的，建筑式样奇特的怪城，拿破仑心里难免有点嫉妒和不安的好奇，就像人们面对彼此隔膜的异邦生活方式一样。显然，这座城市仍然开足了马力，在照常运转，从远处模糊不清的迹像看来，他仍能准确无误地辨认出那不同于死尸的活的躯体，拿破仑从波克隆山上看到城里生活的脉冲，似乎感到这一巨大而美丽的躯体在呼吸。

任何一个俄国人，观看莫斯科，便会觉得它是母亲；任何一个外国人，观看它时，如不了解它这母亲的涵义，也定能体会到这个城市的女性之格，这一点，拿破仑也是感觉到的。

“Cette　ville　asiatique　aux　innombrables　églises，Moscou　la　sainte．La－voilà　donc　enfin，cette　fameuse　ville！Ⅰl　était　temps．”①拿破仑说，随后爬下马鞍，吩咐把这个Moscue的地图给他摊开，并把翻译官勒洛涅·狄德维勒叫到跟前。“Une　ville　occup　e　par　l'ennemi　ressembie　à　une　fille　qui　a　perdu　son　honneur．”②他想，（就像他在斯摩棱斯克对图奇科夫所说的那样）。同时，他就以这一观点瞧着躺在他脚下的，他还从未见过的东方美人。他本人都觉得奇怪的是，他想望已久的，曾经似乎不可能实现的愿望，终于实现了。在明朗的晨光中，他时而看看城市，时而看看地图，审查这座城市的详细情形，占领它的坚定的信心使他又激动又恐惧。

“难道有可能不是这样吗？”他想，“这就是它，这个国都；它躺在我的脚下，等待厄运的降临。亚历山大现时在哪儿，他又在想什么呢？奇怪美丽雄伟的城啊！奇特而庄严的时刻啊！我以什么样子去见他们呢？”他想到他的军队，“这就是它——对所有不够忠诚的官兵的奖励，”他边想边扫视身边的，以及走拢来整队集合的队伍。“我只须一句话，只须一举手，这座des　czars③古都就完蛋了。Mais　ma　cl　mence　est　toujours　prompte　à　descendre　sur　les　vaimcus④．我应该宽怀和真正地伟大……但是不，不对，我在莫斯科是不真实的，”这想法突然出现在他脑际。“可它明明在我脚下，在阳光下炫耀着它金色的穹窿和十字架。但我会宽恕它的。在古老的野蛮和奇制的纪念碑上，我将写下正义和仁慈的伟大辞句……亚历山大最能明白的正是这点，我知道他。（拿破仑觉得，当前发生着的事件的主要意义，在于他同亚历山大个人之间的斗争。）从克里姆林宫的高楼，——是的，这是克里姆林宫，对——我将颁布正义的法律，我将晓谕他们真正文明的含意，我将让世世代代的大臣们，以敬爱之心记住征服者的名字。我将告诉代表团，我过去和现在都不要战争；我只是对他们宫廷的错误政策进行一场战争，我爱亚历山大并尊敬地，我将在莫斯科接受符合我以及我的人民的尊严的和平条件。我不想趁战争之机以羞辱尊敬的陛下。各位大臣——我告诉他们——我不要战争，我希望我所有臣民享受和平和福祉。而且，我知道，他们的到来令我愉快，我将像我一贯说话那样，清晰，庄严和伟大地对他们讲话。但我到了莫斯科是真的吗？对，这说是它！”

①在这座亚洲城市有数不清的教堂，莫斯科，他们的神圣的莫斯科！终于到了这座名城！时候到了。

②被敌人占领的城市，犹如失掉贞操的少女。

③历代沙皇的。

④但我的仁慈随时准备赐予战败者。

“Qu'on　m'amène　les　boyars．”①他对侍从说。一名将军率一队英俊随从立即策马去叫俄国大臣。

①去把大臣们召来。

过了两个小时。拿破仑吃过早饭，又站在波克隆山上那个刚才站的位置上，等候代表团。对俄国大臣的演说，在脑子里已经有了清晰的轮廓。这篇演说充满了尊严，充满了拿破仑所理解的伟大。

拿破仑为自己在莫斯科的行动所定下的宽容的调子，颇为自我欣赏。他在脑子里定下了r　union　dans　le　palais　des　czars①的日子，俄国要员届时将与法国皇帝的大官相聚一堂。他在意识里任命了一位总督，一位能笼络居民的人。了解到莫斯科有许多慈善机构之后，他在想象中作出决定，要使所有这些机构都能享受他的恩惠的赐予。他想，正如在非洲需要被斗篷大氅坐在清真寺里一样，在莫斯科则要像沙皇一样仁慈。为了彻底触动俄国的人心，他，像每一个法国人那样，除了怀念ma　ch　re，ma　tender，ma　pauvre　m　re②，便想不出动情的话语，因此他决定，在所有这些机构，照他的吩咐写上大写字母的：Etablissement　dédié　à　ma　chère③．不，就只写：Maison　de　ma　mère，他自己这样酌定。“难道我到了莫斯科吗？是的，它已在我的脚下，那又为什么城市代表团这么久还未露面呢？”他心里想与此同时，在皇帝侍从的背后，将军和元帅们压低嗓子激动地议论开了。去请代表团的侍从们带回消息说，莫斯科空空如也，所有的人乘车的乘车走的走路，都离开了。那些聚集在一起议论的将帅们脸色气得发白。他们惶恐不安，不是因为居民们撤离了莫斯科（不管这事有多么重大），使他们惶恐的是，该用怎样的言辞向皇帝作出解释，为何使他不至于陷入可怕的法国人所谓的ridicule④处境，怎样对他说明，他白白地等了这么长时间，不见俄国大臣的影子，只有一群群醉鬼，别无他人。有的人说，无论如何得随便召集一个代表团。有的人却反驳这个意见，表示应该谨慎地巧妙地行事，使皇帝有所准备，然后说出事实真相。

①御前会议。

②我的亲爱的温柔的可怜的母亲。

③纪念我温柔的母亲的机构。——我母亲之家。

④尴尬。

“Ⅰl　faudra　le　lui　dire　tout　de　même……”①侍从官们说。“Mais　messieurs……”②情形更加严重了，因为皇帝正在推敲自己的仁政计划，时而耐心地走近地图，时而手搭凉棚望着通往莫斯科的路上，开心地高傲地微笑着。

“Mais　c'est　impossible……”③侍从官们耸耸肩膀说，迟疑不决，怕说出大家都想到的可怕的字眼：le　ridicule……

①然而总得告诉他……

②可是先生们……

③但不方便……不可能……

这时，皇帝由于徒劳的等待而感到疲倦了，他以演员的敏锐感觉出，庄严的时刻拖得过长而开始丧失其庄严意，便做了个手势。信号炮发出了单调的声音，于是，包围莫斯科的军队便从特维尔、卡卢日斯基和多罗戈米洛夫等城门开进莫斯科。军队愈走愈快，互相追赶，快步或小跑地前进着，在自己脚步掀起的尘雾中渐渐地不知去向，汇成一片的吼叫声震撼上空。

被军队行进所吸引的拿破仑，同队伍一道乘马抵达多罗戈米洛夫城门，但在那儿又一次停下，下马后在度支部土墙旁来回走了好一阵，等待代表团。