The more than 70,000-hectare estate of Baki in Kostroma
province was one of Charlotta Lieven’s ten properties. Hundreds of kilometres
north of Moscow, Baki was no place for agriculture. The 4,000 or more peasants
who lived on the estate were self-sufficient as regards food but the estate’s wealth
was derived from its enormous forests. The richer peasants were in reality
merchants: they owned barges on which they shipped the produce of the forests
down the Volga, sometimes all the way to Astrakhan on the shores of the Caspian
Sea. One of Baki’s wealthiest peasants, Vasili Voronin, owned many barges and
employed scores of peasants. The clerk of the peasant communal administration,
Petr Ponomarev, was his son-in-law. As the only truly literate peasant on the
estate Ponomarev was a very powerful intermediary between the two worlds of the
estate manager and the peasantry. In 1800–1813 Voronin used his power to
ensure, for example, that conscription never touched his family, their clients,
or men who worked for him. The estate steward, Ivan Oberuchev, accepted the
Voronins’ power. Maybe there was an element of corruption here. Maybe Oberuchev
just wanted a quiet life. Perhaps he would have argued that he was defending
his employers’ interests by recognizing the realities of power on the estate.
Charlotta Lieven’s instructions had been that the entire
peasant community in its assembly should determine which households were
eligible for conscription and that these families should then draw lots to
decide the order in which their members would be called up. She had also
ordered that smaller households must be spared. In 1812–13 these principles
were ignored. Many sole breadwinners were targeted for conscription, with
tragic consequences for wives and children left behind, for a family without an
adult male lost its right to land. In Staroust, one of the estate’s many
villages, six men were conscripted and two of them were the only adult males in
the household. As bad was the case of the Feofanov brothers, of whom two out of
three were conscripted in 1812. Meanwhile the Makarov family, the cocks of the
village with seven eligible males, not merely provided no recruits in 1812–14
but had never done so for the fifty years that recruitment records had existed
on the estate.
In 1813 Charlotta Lieven dismissed the estate manager and
replaced him by Ivan Kremenetsky, who had previously worked as Barclay de
Tolly’s private secretary in the war ministry. Kremenetsky’s subsequent
investigation revealed that fifty households on the estate had provided no
recruits in the more than three decades for which records existed. Kostroma was
part of the third militia district: unlike in the first two districts, only
part of its militia was embodied. Subsequently the government required forty
new army recruits from Baki in order to equalize the burden of conscription
across the country on private and state peasants.
Charlotta von Lieven ordered that exemption certificates –
each costing 2,000 rubles – should be bought in place of all forty recruits and
that the households who had failed to provide recruits in the past should pay
for them. Seventeen peasant households contributed 2,000 rubles each, which was
roughly the annual salary of a Russian major-general. It says something about
the confusing reality of Russian society at that time that seventeen illiterate
peasants from the backwoods of Kostroma could pay such large sums without
ruining themselves. Though in the short run a sort of justice had prevailed, in
the longer term Kremenetsky’s tactics united the richer peasants against him
and made the estate unmanageable and bankrupt. There was probably a moral to be
drawn from this story. The emperor could not govern early nineteenth-century
Russia without the nobility’s support. Probably Baki, a microcosm of the
empire, could not be governed, or at least effectively exploited, without the
cooperation of its wealthy peasants.
The emperor and Arakcheev were acutely aware of the need to
get reinforcements to the field armies urgently. Harassed by the war minister,
who was himself under pressure from the emperor, the governor of Novgorod
responded in early March 1813 that he was enforcing conscription with great
strictness but that in his province some villages were well over 700 kilometres
from the provincial capital and at this time of year the ‘roads’ were a sea of
mud. No excuses saved the governor of Tambov province, who was dismissed in
December 1812 for slowness and incompetence in running the recruit levy.
The governors themselves put pressure on their subordinates,
and above all on the internal security troops, to complete the recruit levies
as quickly as possible. These troops were usually of poor quality and hugely
overburdened. In provinces affected by Napoleon’s invasion internal security
was a major issue, with peasants sometimes threatening to ‘mutiny’ and
marauders roaming the villages and forests. Many men were away escorting
prisoners of war, while some of the best officers had been detached to serve in
Lobanov-Rostovsky’s regiments. On top of this the internal security forces were
obliged to escort vastly increased numbers of recruits to their training areas,
which were usually hundreds of kilometres from their native provinces. The Riga
Internal Security Battalion arrived in the town of Wenden in the province of
Livonia on 2 February 1813 to help with the new recruit levy. On arrival it
comprised 25 officers and 585 men: by the time it departed it had detached so
many parties on escort and other duties that it was down to 9 officers and 195
men. Its troops were so exhausted and frustrated by sweeps through the
countryside to catch conscripts in hiding that they sometimes seized any man
they found by the roadside to make up their quota of recruits.
The bureaucracy and the noble marshals strained every muscle
to implement conscription but coercive mass mobilization for war was in many
respects the raison d’être of tsarist administration. The system was meeting
the challenge for which it was designed. Finding enough officers for the
expanded army was often more difficult, partly because the pool of loyal and
educated candidates was not enormous but above all because potential officers
could seldom be coerced into the army. In 1812–14 generals in the field
complained more often about a shortage of officers than of soldiers.
In 1812–14 much the biggest source of new officers was noble
NCOs, usually called sub-ensigns in infantry regiments and junkers in the
cavalry. They were the equivalent of the British navy’s midshipmen, in other
words officer cadets who were learning on the job before receiving commissions.
The great majority of peacetime infantry and cavalry officers won their
commissions this way. The Russian army therefore went to war in June 1812 with
a large number of young cadets ready to fill posts caused by casualties or by
the army’s expansion. They were almost always the first choice when vacancies
occurred. In the Guards Jaegers, for instance, thirty-one young men were
commissioned as ensigns in 1812–14 and of these eighteen had served as noble NCOs
in the regiment before the war. All but one of the eighteen were commissioned
in 1812. Subsequently the regiment had to draw on other sources for its new
officers. This was a pattern familiar across the army.
The next largest group of new officers were NCOs who were
not the sons of nobles or officers. Most of these men were commissioned into
the regiments in which they had served as NCOs in peacetime, though Guards NCOs
often transferred to line regiments. The two key requirements for promotion
were courage and leadership in action, and literacy. Some rankers had been
commissioned in the eighteenth century and in the first decade of Alexander’s
reign but wartime needs hugely increased the number in 1812–14. The key moment
came in early November 1812 when, faced with a dire shortage of officers,
Alexander ordered his commanders ‘to promote to officer rank in the infantry,
cavalry and artillery as many junkers and non-commissioned officers as are
available, regardless of whether they are nobles, so long as they merit this by
their service, their behaviour, by their excellent qualities and by their
courage’.
Once the army had exhausted the supply of potential officers
from within its regiments it was forced to look elsewhere. One key source was
cadets from the so-called Noble Regiment, the cut-price and accelerated version
of a cadet corps which had been the ministry of war’s main new initiative in
the pre-war years to find additional officers for an expanding army. In 1808–11
the ‘Regiment’ had commissioned 1,683 cadets into the army. In 1812 it
graduated a further 1,139, though many of these young officers only reached
their units in early 1813. With so many cadets graduating and many of the Noble
Regiment’s instructors drafted to lead reserve units in late 1812 there followed
a lull, but a new inflow of young men into the ‘Regiment’ began in the winter
of 1812–13 and many graduated in 1814. By then, however, former cadets were
outnumbered by the many young civil servants who were transferring into the
army, sometimes under pressure from their bosses. A few of these men had served
in the army before entering the civil service, as had a larger number of the
many militia officers who transferred into regular regiments in 1813–14.
In the winter and early spring of 1812–13 the new reserve
formations were concentrated and trained in four main centres. Petersburg and
Iaroslavl in north-west Russia prepared reinforcements for the Guards, the
Grenadiers and Wittgenstein’s corps. The 77,000 infantry and 18,800 cavalry
reinforcements for Kutuzov’s main body were concentrated near Nizhnii Novgorod,
440 kilometres east of Moscow. Andreas Kleinmichel and Dmitrii
Lobanov-Rostovsky had been responsible for forming the regiments created on
Alexander’s orders immediately after Napoleon’s invasion. Now the emperor
appointed them to command the new reserve formations in Iaroslavl and Nizhniii
Novgorod respectively. More than seven weeks after orders had gone out to
Kleinmichel, Alexander instructed Lieutenant-General Peter von Essen to train
48,000 reinforcements for Chichagov’s army. Essen’s headquarters was the
fortress town of Bobruisk in Belorussia, 150 kilometres south-east of Minsk.
Essen was so short of officers to train and command his recruits that great
delays occurred. In the end, his battalions arrived in the theatre of
operations three months after the other reinforcements and only just in time
for the battle of Leipzig. Had similar delays occurred to the rest of the
reserves, the Russian army would have played a far smaller role in the autumn
campaign and Napoleon might well have defeated the allies in August and
September 1813.
In the late autumn and winter of 1812 Dmitrii
Lobanov-Rostovsky struggled to begin the formation of his battalions amidst the
chaos which followed Moscow’s surrender. Alexander and Kutuzov, hundreds of
kilometres apart with Napoleon between them, were sending him contradictory
orders. He had lost touch with many of the officers and even the generals who
were supposed to be helping him train the new battalions. Equipment was also a
big headache. The destruction of the commissariat stores in Moscow made it
unthinkable to provide proper uniforms, wagons or the copper kettles which the
men used for cooking, the latter a particular problem for inexperienced
recruits unused to scrounging for themselves.
By the winter of 1812 Russia was also running short of
muskets. Production at Tula had been disrupted and it took time for imported
British muskets to arrive and even they did not fully cover demand. Early in
November Alexander ordered Lobanov-Rostovsky to supply only 776 muskets for
each 1,000-strong reserve battalion he was forming. Given the high drop-out
rate from sickness and exhaustion among the new recruits, the remaining 224 men
were supposed to acquire muskets from comrades who were left behind in the long
march to join the army in the field. Though perhaps realistic and necessary,
this policy cannot have helped the new recruits’ morale.
Given the immense difficulties faced by Lobanov, it was
inevitable that the war ministry would be heavily criticized for its slowness
in feeding and equipping his troops. In the circumstances, however, Aleksei
Gorchakov and his subordinates performed reasonably well in the winter of
1812–13: the ministry’s senior commissariat and victualling officers both went
to Nizhnii Novgorod in person to help Lobanov. Their job was made even more
difficult when Lobanov’s troops set off in December on the long march from
Nizhnii to their new deployment area at Belitsa in Belorussia, well over 1,000 kilometres
away. The move made obvious sense. With the theatre of operations moving to
Germany the reserves needed to be concentrated in the western borderlands.
Having struggled to get arms and equipment to Nizhnii, however, the war
ministry now had to redirect them in the middle of winter and through a
countryside turned upside down by war.
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