and the newly-formed bands of partisans which roamed the devastated band of country that marked the passage of the French from the border to Moscow, harried their communications and attacked their supply-trains.
There was sad news, too. The list of officers killed or wounded at Borodino was published and Tatya and Nadya wept over the names of more than a dozen old friends. The governor let them know that Prince Bagration, the hero of the Army, had died of the wound he had sustained in the battle, and when the postal service from Petersburg had been re-established by a roundabout route to avoid Moscow, Tatya learned that one of her oldest and dearest friends, Prince Nikolai Volkhov, lay near death at the house of his cousin, Maria Kirova.
‘I thought he was married,’ observed Nadya, who had cherished a girlish passion for the handsome prince and remembered him very well.
‘Yes.’ Tatya seemed inclined to say no more on the subject, but after a moment she added, ‘It was a disaster. His wife takes so many lovers that he has nothing to do with her. I doubt if she’s even been near him, and he wouldn’t see her if she did,’ and then firmly changed the subject.
Irina received a few letters from Lev as well. He always seemed to write in a great hurry, but at least he let her and his sister know that he was safe, and more or less where he was. He had been into Tula province for remounts after Irina parted from him in Kaluga, but he was now back at Headquarters, serving on the Marshal’s staff, General Barclay having left the Army and returned to Petersburg to resume his duties as Minister of War. He seemed to be finding the constant riding about to deal with trivial matters tedious in the extreme.
Suddenly, in the second week in October, things began to happen, although there was a week’s delay before the news reached Ryazan. It started with a muddled attack by part of the Russian Army on Marshal Murat’s cavalry camp at Vinkovo, very near the Russian camp, which seemed an abortive affair, but the next day, Cossack patrols noticed considerable activity where the Kaluga road left Moscow. They observed it carefully, but could not quite make out what was to do, so were very slow to report it.
Two days later, the whole Moscow area was shaken by a great shock which many people thought was an earthquake. Another Cossack patrol thought it sounded more like an explosion, and circumspectly moved closer to the city to investigate. They found the eastern suburbs deserted, and crept through the ruins of the city until they reached Red Square itself, and cautiously looked into the Kremlin through the Spassky Gate, to find signs that an attempt had been made to blow up some of the buildings, including the great bell-tower of Ivan Veliki.
There was no one about but a fatigue party of French soldiers, engaged, under the eagle eye of Marshal Mortier, in emptying the contents of a great number of bottles of vodka on to the ground. Shocked by the waste, and more that a little surprised by their discovery, the Cossacks promptly withdrew, and hastened to send the news to Marshal Kutuzov that the enemy was leaving Moscow!
This much the ladies at Ryazan had managed to glean from the governor, and from a scribbled note from Lev. Naturally, they were glad to hear that Holy Moscow, or what was left it, was free of the contamination of Bonaparte’s presence. Tatya had also a secret reason for being relieved, for she had not told the others that the governor had warned her some time ago to be prepared to leave at any moment if the French appeared near Ryazan—they had actually been seen at Kolomna only two weeks before.
For three more days, the ladies wondered and prayed as they busied themselves with their preparations to travel to Petersburg, and then a footman brought another packet of letters from the post-office in town and handed them on a salver to Tatya as she sat with the other two in the salon. The topmost one was addressed to
There was sad news, too. The list of officers killed or wounded at Borodino was published and Tatya and Nadya wept over the names of more than a dozen old friends. The governor let them know that Prince Bagration, the hero of the Army, had died of the wound he had sustained in the battle, and when the postal service from Petersburg had been re-established by a roundabout route to avoid Moscow, Tatya learned that one of her oldest and dearest friends, Prince Nikolai Volkhov, lay near death at the house of his cousin, Maria Kirova.
‘I thought he was married,’ observed Nadya, who had cherished a girlish passion for the handsome prince and remembered him very well.
‘Yes.’ Tatya seemed inclined to say no more on the subject, but after a moment she added, ‘It was a disaster. His wife takes so many lovers that he has nothing to do with her. I doubt if she’s even been near him, and he wouldn’t see her if she did,’ and then firmly changed the subject.
Irina received a few letters from Lev as well. He always seemed to write in a great hurry, but at least he let her and his sister know that he was safe, and more or less where he was. He had been into Tula province for remounts after Irina parted from him in Kaluga, but he was now back at Headquarters, serving on the Marshal’s staff, General Barclay having left the Army and returned to Petersburg to resume his duties as Minister of War. He seemed to be finding the constant riding about to deal with trivial matters tedious in the extreme.
Suddenly, in the second week in October, things began to happen, although there was a week’s delay before the news reached Ryazan. It started with a muddled attack by part of the Russian Army on Marshal Murat’s cavalry camp at Vinkovo, very near the Russian camp, which seemed an abortive affair, but the next day, Cossack patrols noticed considerable activity where the Kaluga road left Moscow. They observed it carefully, but could not quite make out what was to do, so were very slow to report it.
Two days later, the whole Moscow area was shaken by a great shock which many people thought was an earthquake. Another Cossack patrol thought it sounded more like an explosion, and circumspectly moved closer to the city to investigate. They found the eastern suburbs deserted, and crept through the ruins of the city until they reached Red Square itself, and cautiously looked into the Kremlin through the Spassky Gate, to find signs that an attempt had been made to blow up some of the buildings, including the great bell-tower of Ivan Veliki.
There was no one about but a fatigue party of French soldiers, engaged, under the eagle eye of Marshal Mortier, in emptying the contents of a great number of bottles of vodka on to the ground. Shocked by the waste, and more that a little surprised by their discovery, the Cossacks promptly withdrew, and hastened to send the news to Marshal Kutuzov that the enemy was leaving Moscow!
This much the ladies at Ryazan had managed to glean from the governor, and from a scribbled note from Lev. Naturally, they were glad to hear that Holy Moscow, or what was left it, was free of the contamination of Bonaparte’s presence. Tatya had also a secret reason for being relieved, for she had not told the others that the governor had warned her some time ago to be prepared to leave at any moment if the French appeared near Ryazan—they had actually been seen at Kolomna only two weeks before.
For three more days, the ladies wondered and prayed as they busied themselves with their preparations to travel to Petersburg, and then a footman brought another packet of letters from the post-office in town and handed them on a salver to Tatya as she sat with the other two in the salon. The topmost one was addressed to
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