"They are savages out here in the plains," he said. "It is a
barbaric and stupid instinct that makes them destroy their own
property for the sake of hampering us. As we approach Moscow we
shall find that the more civilized inhabitants of the villages,
enervated by an easy life, rendered selfish by possession of wealth,
will not abandon their property, but will barter and sell to us and
find themselves the victims of our might."
And the army believed him. For they always believed him. Faith
can, indeed, move mountains. It carried four hundred thousand men,
without provisions, through a barren land.
And now, in sight of the golden city, the army was still hungry.
Nay! it was ragged already. In three columns it converged on the
doomed capital, driving before it like a swarm of flies the Cossacks
who harassed the advance.
Here again, on the hill looking down into the smiling valley of the
Moskwa, the unexpected awaited the invaders. The city, shimmering
in the sunlight like the realization of some Arab's dream, was
silent. The Cossacks had disappeared. Except those around the
Kremlin, towering above the river, the city had no walls.
The army halted while aides-de-camp flew hither and thither on their
weary horses. Charles Darragon, sunburnt, dusty, hoarse with
cheering, was among the first. He looked right and left for de
Casimir, but could not see him. He had not seen his chief since
Borodino, for he was temporarily attached to the staff of Prince
Eugene, who had lost heavily at the Kalugha river.
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