His resolution once taken, he was anxious that it should satisfy his friends; he conceived that by persuading them, they would be actuated by greater zeal, than by commanding their obedience. It was, moreover, by their sentiments that he was enabled to judge of those of the rest of his army; in short, like all other men, the silent discontent of his household disturbed him. Surrounded by disapproving countenances, and opinions contrary to his own, he felt himself uncomfortable. And, besides, to obtain their assent to his plan, was in some degree to make them share the responsibility which possibly weighed upon his mind.

But all the officers of his household opposed his plan, each in the way that marked his peculiar character; Berthier, by a melancholy countenance, by lamentations, and even tears; Lobau and Caulaincourt, by a frankness, which in the first was stamped by a cold and haughty roughness, excusable in so brave a warrior; and which in the second was persevering even to obstinacy, and impetuous even to violence. The emperor repelled their observations with some ill-humour; he exclaimed, addressing himself more especially to his aid-de-camp, as well as to Berthier, "that he had enriched his generals too much; that all they now aspired to was to follow the pleasures of the chase, and to display their brilliant equipages in Paris: and that, doubtless, they had become disgusted with war." When their honour was thus attacked, there was no longer any reply to be made; they merely bowed and remained silent. During one of his impatient fits, he told one of the generals of his guard, "you were born in a bivouac, and in a bivouac you will die."

As to Duroc, he first signified his disapprobation by a chilling silence, and afterwards by terse replies, reference to accurate reports, and brief remarks. To him the emperor replied, "that he saw clearly enough that the Russians wanted to draw him on; but that, nevertheless, he must proceed as far as Smolensk; that there he would establish his head-quarters; and that in the spring of 1813, if Russia did not previously make peace, she would be ruined; that Smolensk was the key of the two roads to Petersburgh and Moscow; that he must get possession of it; and that he would then be able to march on both those capitals at the same time, in order to destroy every thing in the one, and preserve every thing in the other."

Here the grand marshal observed to him, that he was not more likely to make peace at Smolensk, or even at Moscow, than he was at Witepsk; and that in removing to such a distance from France, the Prussians constituted an intermediate body, on whom little reliance could be placed. But the emperor replied, that on that supposition, as the Russian war no longer offered him any advantageous result, he ought to renounce it; and if so, he must turn his arms against Prussia, and compel her to pay the expenses of the war.

It was now Daru's turn. This minister is straightforward even to stiffness, and possesses immoveable firmness. The great question of the march upon Moscow produced a discussion which lasted during eight successive hours, and at which only Berthier was present. The emperor having desired his minister's opinion of the war, "It is not a national war," replied Daru; "the introduction of some English merchandize into Russia, and even the restoration of the kingdom of Poland, are not sufficient reasons for engaging in so distant a war; neither your troops nor ourselves understand its necessity or its objects, and to say the least, all things recommend the policy of stopping where we now are."

The emperor rejoined, "Did they take him for a madman? Did they imagine he made war from inclination? Had they not heard him say that the wars of Spain and Russia were two ulcers which ate into the vitals of France, and that she could not bear them both at once?

"He was anxious for peace; but in order to negotiate, two persons were necessary, and he was only one. Had a single letter from Alexander yet reached him?

"What, then, should he wait for at Witepsk? Two rivers, it was true, traced out the line of position; but, during the winter, there were no longer any rivers in this country. It was, therefore, a visionary line which they traced out; it was rather a line of demarcation than of separation. It was requisite, therefore, to constitute an artificial line; to construct towns and fortresses capable of defying the elements, and every species of scourge; to create every thing, land and atmosphere; for every thing was deficient, even provisions, unless, indeed, he chose to drain Lithuania, and render her hostile, or ruin ourselves; that if they were at Moscow, they might take what they pleased; here it was necessary to purchase every thing. Consequently," continued he, "you cannot enable me to live at Witepsk, nor shall I be able to defend you here: both of us, therefore, are here out of our proper element.

"That if he returned to Wilna, he might there indeed, be more easily supplied, but that he should not be in a better condition to defend himself; that in that case it would be necessary for him to fall back to the Vistula, and lose Lithuania. Whereas at Smolensk, he would be sure to gain either a decisive battle, or at least, a fortress and a position on the Dnieper.

"That he perceived clearly that their thoughts were dwelling on Charles the Twelfth; but that if the expedition to Moscow wanted a fortunate precedent, it was because it was deficient in a man capable of making it succeed; that in war, fortune went for one-half in every thing; that if people always waited for a complete assemblage of favourable circumstances, nothing would ever be undertaken; that we must begin, in order to finish; that there was no enterprise in which every thing concurred, and that, in all human projects, chance had its share; that, in short, it was not the rule which created the success, but the success the rule; and that, if he succeeded by new means, that success would create new principles.

"Blood has not yet been spilled," he added, "and Russia is too great to yield without fighting. Alexander can only negotiate after a great battle. If it is necessary, I will even proceed to the holy city in search of that battle, and I will gain it. Peace waits for me at the gates of Moscow. But with his honour thus saved, if Alexander still persists, I will negotiate with the Boyards, or even with the population of that capital; it is numerous, united, and consequently enlightened. It will understand its own interests, and comprehend the value of liberty." He concluded by saying, that "Moscow hated Petersburgh; that he would take advantage of their rivalry; that the results of such a jealousy were incalculable."

It was in this manner that the emperor, when animated by conversation and the banquet, revealed the nature of his hopes. Daru replied, "That war was a game which he played well, in which he was always the winner, and that it was natural to infer, that he took a pleasure in playing it. But that, in this case, it was not so much men as nature which it was necessary to conquer; that already the army was diminished one-third by desertion, sickness, or famine.

"If provisions failed at Witepsk, what would be the case farther on? The officers whom he had sent to procure them, either never re-appeared, or returned with empty hands. That the small quantity of flour, or the few cattle which they had succeeded in collecting, were immediately consumed by the imperial guard; that the other divisions of the army were heard to murmur, that it exacted and absorbed every thing, that it constituted, as it were, a privileged class. The hospital and provision-waggons, as well as the droves of cattle, were not able to come up. The hospitals were insufficient for the sick; provisions, room, and medicines, were all wanting in them.

"All things consequently admonished them to halt, and with so much the more effect, as they could not calculate on the favourable disposition of the inhabitants beyond Witepsk. In conformity with his secret orders, they had been sounded, but without effect. How could men be roused to insurrection, for the sake of a liberty whose very name they did not understand? What influence could be obtained over a people almost savages, without property, and without wants? What could be taken from them? With what could they be tempted? Their only property was their life, which they carried with them into regions of almost infinite space."

Berthier added, "That if we were to proceed forward, the Russians would have in their favour our too-much elongated flanks, famine, and especially their formidable winter; while in staying where he was, the emperor would enlist the latter on his side, and render himself master of the war; that he would fix it within his reach, instead of following its deceitful, wandering, and undecided flight."

Such were the replies of Berthier and Daru. The emperor mildly listened to their observations, but oftener interrupted them by subtile arguments; begging the question, according to his wishes, or shifting it, when it became too pressing. But however disagreeable might be the truths which he was obliged to hear, he listened to them patiently, and replied with equal patience. Throughout this discussion, his conversation and whole deportment were remarkable for affability, simplicity, and good-humour, which, indeed, he almost always preserved in his own family; a circumstance which sufficiently explains why, notwithstanding so many misfortunes, he was so much beloved by those who lived on terms of intimacy with him.

Still dissatisfied, the emperor summoned successively several of the generals of his army; but his questions were such as indicated their answers; and many of these chiefs, born in the capacity of soldiers, and accustomed to obey his voice, were as submissive in these conversations as upon the field of battle.

Others waited the issue, in order to give their opinion; concealing their dread of a reverse, in the presence of a man who had always been fortunate, as well as their opinion, lest success might on some future day reproach them for it.

The greater part signified their approbation, being perfectly convinced that were they even to incur his displeasure by recommending him to stop, he would not be the less certain to advance. As it was necessary to incur fresh dangers, they preferred meeting them with an appearance of good-will. They found it more convenient to be wrong with him, than right against him.

But there was one individual, who, not content with approving his design, encouraged it. Prompted by a culpable ambition, he increased Napoleon's confidence, by exaggerating the force of his division. For after incurring so many fatigues, unaccompanied by danger, it was a great merit in those chiefs who preserved the greatest number of men around their eagles. The emperor was thus gratified on his weak side, and the time for rewards was approaching. In order to make himself more agreeable, the individual in question boldly took upon himself to vouch for the ardour of his soldiers, whose emaciated countenances but ill accorded with the flattery of their leader. The emperor gave credit to this ardour, because it pleased him, and because he only saw the soldiers at reviews; occasions when his presence, the military pomp, the mutual excitation produced by great assemblages, imparted fervor to the mind; when, in short, all things, even to the secret orders of the chiefs, dictated an appearance of enthusiasm.

But in fact it was only with his guard that he thus occupied his attention. In the army, the soldiers complained of his non-appearance. "They no longer saw him," they said, "except in days of battle, when they had to die for him, but never to supply them with the means of existence. They were all there to serve him, but he seemed no longer there to serve them."

In this manner did they suffer and complain, but without sufficiently considering that what they complained of was one of the inseparable evils of the campaign. The dispersion of the various corps d'armÉe being indispensable for the sake of procuring subsistence in these deserts, that necessity kept Napoleon at a distance from his soldiers. His guard could hardly find subsistence and shelter in his immediate neighbourhood; the rest were out of his sight. It is true that many imprudent acts had recently been committed; several convoys of provisions belonging to other corps were on their passage daringly retained at the imperial head-quarters, for the use of the guard, by whose order is not known. This violence, added to the jealousy which such bodies of men always inspire, created discontent in the army.

The emperor was ignorant of these complaints; but another cause of anxiety had occurred to torment him. He knew that at Witepsk alone, there were 3000 of his soldiers attacked by the dysentery, which was extending its ravages over his whole army. The rye which they were eating in soup was its principal cause. Their stomachs, accustomed to bread, rejected this cold and indigestible food, and the emperor was urging his physicians to find a remedy for its effects. One day he appeared less anxious. "Davoust," said he, "has found out what the medical men could not discover; he has just sent to inform me of it; all that is required is to roast the rye before preparing it;" and his eyes sparkled with hope as he questioned his physician, who declined giving any opinion until the experiment was tried. The emperor instantly called two grenadiers of his guard; he seated them at table, close to him, and made them begin the trial of this nourishment so prepared. It did not succeed with them, although he added to it some of his own wine, which he himself poured out for them.

Respect, however, for the conqueror of Europe, and the necessity of circumstances, supported them in the midst of their numerous privations. They saw that they were too deeply embarked; that a victory was necessary for their speedy deliverance; and that he alone could give it them. Misfortune, moreover, had purified the army; all that remained of it could not fail to be its Élite both in mind and body. In order to have got so far as they had done, what trials had they not withstood! Suspense, and disgust with miserable cantonments, were sufficient to agitate such men. To remain, appeared to them insupportable; to retreat, impossible; it was, therefore, imperative to advance.

The great names of Smolensk and Moscow inspired no alarm. In ordinary times, and with ordinary men, that unknown region, that unvisited people, and the distance which magnifies all things, would have been sufficient to discourage. But these were the very circumstances which, in this case, were most attractive. The soldiers' chief pleasure was in hazardous situations, which were rendered more interesting by the greater proportion of danger they involved, and on which new dangers conferred a more striking air of singularity; emotions full of charm for active spirits, which had exhausted their taste for old things, and which, therefore, required new.

Ambition was, at that time, completely unshackled; every thing inspired the passion for glory; they had been launched into a boundless career. How was it possible to measure the ascendancy, which a powerful emperor must have acquired, or the strong impulse which he had given them?—an emperor, capable of telling his soldiers after the victory of Austerlitz, "I will allow you to name your children after me; and if among them there should prove one worthy of us, I will leave him every thing I possess, and name him my successor."