In spite of the field-day opinions of such generals as Beningsen, Ermolov, and others, the “old fox” Kutuzof thought, with Barclay, that Moscow should be sacrificed like any other city if the safety of the Empire demanded such a step. He authorized Dorogomilovsky to make some show of resistance merely with the object of satisfying the inhabitants, but he resolutely kept Rostopchin, the old courtier of Paul I., at arm’s length from his councils. The latter did not hesitate to call Kutuzof “an old one-eyed Baba” (peasant woman), and wrote to him—“It rests with you to decide whether I shall act with you before Moscow, or without you in Moscow.” The “Baba,” who had no great opinion of the armed mob which Rostopchin offered to place at his disposal, replied only with a demand for provisions, and did not even invite the commandant of Moscow to attend the Council of War at which the retreat of the Russian armies was decided upon. “When the masters are fighting,” says a proverb of Southern Russia, “the peasant’s head is aching.” The truth of this adage was now bitterly felt by the inhabitants of Moscow. It was owing to the quarrels of their leaders that they were surprised by the French. Rostopchin had just sufficient time, putting a good face on the trick played upon him by Kutuzof, to open the gates of the arsenal to the public, empty the numerous barrels of vodka into the street, and, most difficult of all, to escape with his wife and family. The populace which he had armed, and who were excited by his “placards,” which have become legendary, opposed his departure. They gathered in front of the governor’s palace, and demanded to be led against Napoleon. To save himself, Rostopchin hit upon the idea of throwing a victim to the mob, as to a pack of famished wolves. He promptly found a scapegoat in the person of Verestchagin, the son of a merchant. The victim was accused of having translated an article relating to Napoleon, and Rostopchin handed him over to the mob as “the wretch through whom Moscow and Russia would perish.” As no hand was raised to execute justice on this so-called traitor—a pale, delicate young man—the Governor-General ordered a dragoon to cut him down. At the sight of blood the passions of the mob broke loose. Verestchagin was fastened to the tail of a horse and dragged through the streets, while the Governor-General escaped by the back door and fled the city. The body of the victim, after being dragged through the market-place, was dropped in front of a small church, and was buried at the very spot on which it fell. Some time later, when the Sophiyaka Street was opened, the body was found intact, and was believed by many to be that of a holy martyr.