January 30th, 1801.
At the Yartsevo Ferry, 35 kiloters east of the Russian Smolensk Fortress, inside the Polish Army frontline command post.
The operational eting had just ended when General Mokronovsky returned to Kosciuszko’s office, saying anxiously, "Marshal, once we cross the Vop River, our army will hardly have any room left to adjust its strategic deploynt.
"I think we could perhaps observe a bit longer, and use this ti to reinforce the supply line."
He glanced at the map on the wall. "If the Russian Army in Transcaucasia rushes back, our flank will face enormous risk."
After receiving the warning from the French Regent, Kosciuszko had also beco hesitant about continuing the advance, for in the past the latter’s assessnts of the situation had always been highly accurate.
His hand slipped into his pocket almost on its own, feeling the Great Sejm resolution sent from Warsaw not long ago about launching a full-scale offensive, still bearing the King’s own signature.
His gaze quickly grew firm, and he shook his head. "Given the Russians’ marching speed, it would take them at least more than three months to get here from Staropol.
"This year’s bitter winter will only make that ti even longer. We have ample ti to lay out our defenses."
"Marshal, at least we should wait until the foraging cavalry returns..."
Kosciuszko raised his hand to cut his subordinate off, drew a deep breath, and ordered, "Please return to your camp, General. We have only one option: to seize Moscow."
He had barely finished speaking when a staff officer knocked and entered, handing him a letter. "Marshal, Colonel Laurent Guivion Saint-Cyr, dispatched by the French General Staff, is currently crossing the Dnieper River and is expected to reach Yartsevo in five days."
"Excellent!" Mokronovsky’s face instantly lit up. "How many soldiers is he bringing?"
The staff officer lowered his head. "About forty guards, General."
Mokronovsky frowned. "So he’s coming alone?"
Kosciuszko waved his hand. "The fact that Paris can send him is, in itself, a statent of support for us; that is extrely important."
He straightened his military uniform. "Let us greet him with a great victory!"
At four in the afternoon, Madalinisky from the front line sent word to Kosciuszko that the main force of forty-five thousand n had completely crossed the Vop River and would resu their march eastward the next morning.
At the sa ti, Lithuanian Cavalry Commander Bilak, in charge of the foraging mission, also sent in a report. His n had pushed as far as the Pleschistoye area so 60 kiloters away, but had almost found no grain at all, and had barely seen any inhabited villages.
Kosciuszko frowned.
By rights, even if the Russians wanted to avoid the ravages of war, they shouldn’t have fled so cleanly. And how had those peasants learned that the Polish Army was approaching?
The loss of nearby villages for resupply would cause his logistical pressure to skyrocket.
He turned and asked the staff officer beside him, "How long can our food supplies last?"
"About twenty days, Marshal. But the fodder will only last for roughly a week."
"Send soone to urge Minsk to replenish grain as quickly as possible." Kosciuszko glanced at the heavy snow outside the window. "And we need another batch of winter uniforms. This year is too cold."
He raised his voice. "Order General Madalinisky to accelerate the advance! Once we take Dorogobuzh, we’ll have everything we need."
Dorogobuzh was a city more than 120 kiloters from Smolensk.
"Yes, Marshal!"
The staff officer was just about to turn to leave when a Courier burst in, crying anxiously, "Marshal, General Belak has been attacked by twenty thousand Russians and requests reinforcents."
Belak’s corps was at Jemidov Village to the north, forming the Polish Army’s left wing.
Kosciuszko’s face darkened.
Shouldn’t the Russian Army now be massed west of Moscow on the defensive? How could they spare troops to strike at his rear?
He said offhand, "Have Kilinsky take n to reinforce..."
He did not expect that over the next few days, even worse news would arrive one after another.
First, a supply convoy was ambushed near Bobruisk by a large force of Cossack Cavalry, losing nearly thirty wagons of supplies.
Then more than thirty thousand Russian troops appeared at Roslavl, south of Smolensk.
Worst of all, several thousand Russians who had long been huddling in Kyiv suddenly abandoned their defenses and launched an attack on the Polish Army at Mozhili.
Kosciuszko suddenly recalled that long ago the French Regent had advised concentrating forces first to capture Kyiv, and he closed his eyes in regret.
A few hours later, all Polish officers were assembled at headquarters for an ergency operations conference.
...
Orsha Ferry.
Listening to the Courier’s report, Saint-Cyr’s mind was filled with the Regent King’s story.
In that distant world, an invincible Emperor led six hundred thousand troops to punish a vast, poor yet warlike land of cold.
At first the Emperor’s army was unstoppable, driving nearly a thousand kiloters into the enemy country within just a few months, encircling its economic and religious core, also its largest city.
No one had expected the enemy to relocate all the inhabitants of that city and its surrounding area, leaving behind no supplies, and to set the place ablaze as the Emperor’s army entered.
It was the depth of winter; the Emperor’s army lost its supplies and n kept freezing to death by the roadside in the night wind and heavy snow.
The warhorses especially lacked fodder, and great numbers died. This further weakened the Emperor’s mobility and supply capacity.
At last the Emperor realized he had sunk into a quagmire and was forced to order a retreat.
It was then that the enemy’s army suddenly erged.
They did not dare to fight a decisive battle with the Emperor’s great host; they rely shadowed it, harassing incessantly so that the Emperor could not withdraw in peace.
Driven by hunger, the Emperor’s army began to push farther afield in search of food. But the enemy cavalry had long been waiting at every passage, slaughtering Imperial soldiers with abandon.
At the sa ti, frostbite, dysentery, pneumonia, and scurvy broke out in the Imperial ranks, reaping the soldiers’ lives faster than the enemy’s bullets.
When the Emperor withdrew to an important river, the enemy Commander had already quietly brought them under a three-sided encirclent.
——————
This city, founded only in 1703, lay far from Russia’s traditional heartland. Among its residents were many foreign envoys and rchants, and its spiritual influence on ordinary Russians was far inferior to that of Moscow.
Moscow, by contrast, had been Russia’s traditional capital since its founding in 1147, the center of Eastern Orthodox (ho to the Kremlin Palace and nurous churches), and the hub of Russia’s transportation and economy.
In Napoleon’s understanding, "Taking Moscow is equivalent to seizing Russia by the throat"; the Russians would abandon resistance because their "spiritual holand" had fallen.
He even told his officers before the campaign, "Saint Petersburg is the Tsar’s city; Moscow is the city of the Russian people. We must let the Russians know that the price of resistance is losing their roots."
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