Nevertheless, the emperor of the French, at the head of more than six hundred thousand men, and already too far advanced to think of retreating, flattered himself that his strength would decide every thing; that a victory on the Niemen would cut the knot of all these diplomatic difficulties, which he despised, probably too much; that then all the monarchs of Europe, compelled to acknowledge his ascendancy, would be eager to return into his system, and that all those satellites would be drawn into its vortex.



BOOK II.



CHAPTER I.

Napoleon meanwhile was still at Paris, in the midst of his great officers, who were alarmed by the terrible encounter which was preparing. The latter had nothing more to acquire, but much to preserve; their personal interest, therefore, was united with the general desire of nations, which were fatigued with war; and without disputing the utility of this expedition, they dreaded its approach. But they only confessed this to each other in secret, either from fear of giving umbrage, of impairing the confidence of nations, or of being proved wrong by the result. For that reason, in Napoleon's presence they remained silent, and even appeared to be uninformed as to a war, which for a considerable time had furnished a subject of conversation to the whole of Europe.

But at length this respectful taciturnity, which he himself had taken pains to impose, became disagreeable; he suspected that it proceeded more from disapprobation than reserve. Obedience was not sufficient for him; it was his wish to combine it with conviction: that was like another conquest. Besides, no one was more convinced than himself of the power of public opinion, which, according to him, created or destroyed sovereigns. In short, whether through policy or self-love, it was his desire to persuade.

Such were the dispositions of Napoleon and of the grandees who surrounded him, when the veil being about to be rent, and war evident, their silence towards him assumed a greater appearance of indiscretion than hazarding a few timely words. Some of them, therefore, commenced the task, and the emperor anticipated the others.

A show was made[5] at first of comprehending all the emergencies of his position. "It was necessary to complete what had been begun; it was impossible to stop in the midst of so rapid an acclivity, and so near the summit. The empire of Europe was adapted to his genius; France would become its centre and its base; great and entire, she would perceive around her none but states so feeble and so divided, that all coalition among them would become contemptible or impossible; but with such an object why did he not commence the task by subjecting and partitioning the states immediately around him?"

[Footnote 5: The arch-chancellor.]

To this objection Napoleon replied, "That such had been his project in 1809, in the war with Austria, but that the misfortune of Esslingen had deranged his plan; that that event, and the doubtful dispositions which Russia had since exhibited, had led him to marry an Austrian princess, and strengthen himself by an alliance with the Austrian against the Russian emperor.

"That he did not create circumstances, but that he would not allow them to escape him; that he comprehended them all, and held himself in as much readiness as possible for their appearance; that in order to accomplish his designs, he was fully aware that twelve years were necessary, but that he could not afford to wait so long.

"That besides, he had not provoked this war; that he had been faithful to his engagements with Alexander; proofs of which were to be found in the coldness of his relations with Turkey and Sweden, which had been delivered up to Russia, one almost entirely, the other shorn of Finland, and even of the Isle of Aland, which was so near Stockholm. That he had only replied to the distressed appeal of the Swedes, by advising them to make the cession.

"That, nevertheless, since 1809, the Russian army destined to act in concert with Poniatowski in Austrian Gallicia had come forward too late, was too weak, and had acted perfidiously; that since that time, Alexander, by his ukase of the 31st of December, 1810, had abandoned the continental system, and by his prohibitions declared an actual war against French commerce; that he was quite aware that the interest and national spirit of the Russians might have compelled him to that, but that he had then communicated to their emperor that he was aware of his position, and would enter into every kind of arrangement which his repose required; in spite of which, Alexander, instead of modifying his ukase, had assembled 80,000 men, under pretence of supporting his custom-house officers; that he had suffered himself to be seduced by England; that, lastly, he even now refused to recognize the thirty-second military division, and demanded the evacuation of Prussia by the French; which was equivalent to a declaration of war."

Through all these complaints, some persons thought they perceived that the pride of Napoleon was wounded by the independent attitude which Russia was daily resuming. The dispossession of the Russian Princess of Oldenburg of her duchy led to other conjectures; it was said that hints had been given both at Tilsit and Erfurt about a divorce, after which a closer alliance might be contracted with Russia; that these hints had not been encouraged, and that Napoleon retained a resentful remembrance of it. This fact is affirmed by some, and denied by others.

But all those passions which so despotically govern other men, possessed but a feeble influence over a genius so firm and vast as his: at the utmost, they may have imparted the first momentum which impelled him into action earlier than he would have wished; but without penetrating so deeply beneath the folds of his great mind, a single idea, an obvious fact, was enough to hurry him, sooner or later, into that decisive struggle,—that was, the existence of an empire, which rivalled his own in greatness, but was still young, like its prince, and growing every day; while the French empire, already mature, like its emperor, could scarcely anticipate any thing but its decrease.

Whatever was the height to which Napoleon had raised the throne of the south and west of Europe, he perceived the northern throne of Alexander ever ready to overshadow him by its eternally menacing position. On those icy summits of Europe, whence, in former times, so many floods of barbarians had rushed forth, he perceived all the elements of a new inundation collecting and maturing. Till then, Austria and Prussia had opposed sufficient barriers; but these he himself had humbled and overthrown: he stood, therefore, single, front to front with what he feared; he alone remained the champion of the civilization, the riches, and the enjoyments of the nations of the south, against the rude ignorance, and the fierce cupidity, of the poorer people of the north, and against the ambition of their emperor and his nobility.

It was obvious, that war alone could decide this great arbitrament,—this great and eternal struggle between the poor and the rich; and, nevertheless, this war, with reference to us, was neither European, nor even national. Europe entered into it against her inclination, because the object of the expedition was to add to the strength of her conqueror. France was exhausted, and anxious for repose; her grandees, who formed the court of Napoleon, were alarmed at the double-headed character of the war, at the dispersion of our armies from Cadiz to Moscow; and even when admitting the eventual necessity of the struggle, its immediate urgency did not appear to them so legitimately proved.

They knew that it was more especially by an appeal to his political interest that they had any chance of shaking the resolution of a prince, whose principle was, "that there exist individuals whose conduct can but rarely be regulated by their private sentiments, but always by surrounding circumstances." In this persuasion, one of his ministers[6] said to him, "that his finances required tranquillity;" but he replied, "On the contrary, they are embarrassed, and require war." Another[7] added, "that the state of his revenues never, in fact, had been more flourishing; that, independent of a furnished account of from three to four millions, it was really wonderful to find France unencumbered with any urgent debts; but that this prosperous condition was approaching its termination, since it appeared that with the year 1812 a ruinous campaign was to commence; that hitherto, war had been made to support the expense of war; that we had every where found the table laid out; but that, in future, we could no longer live at the expense of Germany, since she had become our ally; but, on the contrary, it would be necessary to support her contingents, and that without any hope of remuneration, whatever the result might be; that we should have to pay at Paris for every ration of bread which would be consumed at Moscow, as the new scenes of action offered us no harvest to reap, independent of glory, but cordage, pitch, and shipping-tackle, which would certainly go but a small way towards the discharge of the expenses of a continental war. That France was not in a condition to subsidize all Europe in this manner, especially at a moment when her resources were drained by the war in Spain; that it was like lighting a fire at both ends at once, which, gaining ground upon the centre, exhausted by so many efforts,—would probably end in consuming ourselves."

[Footnote 6: Count Mollien.]

[Footnote 7: The Duke of Gaeta.]

This minister was listened to; the emperor surveyed him with a smiling air, accompanied with one of his familiar caresses. He imagined that he had secured conviction, but Napoleon said to him,—"So you think that I shall not be able to find a paymaster to discharge the expenses of the war?" The duke endeavoured to learn upon whom the burden was to fall, when the emperor, by a single word, disclosing all the grandeur of his designs, closed the lips of his astonished minister.

He estimated, however, but too accurately all the difficulties of his enterprise. It was that, perhaps, which drew upon him the reproach of availing himself of a method which he had rejected in the Austrian war, and of which the celebrated Pitt had set the example in 1793.

Towards the end of 1811, the prefect of police at Paris learnt, it was said, that a printer was secretly counterfeiting Russian bank-bills; he ordered him to be arrested; the printer resisted; but in the result his house was broken into, and himself taken before the magistrate, whom he astonished by his assurance, and still more by his appeal from the minister of police. This printer was instantly released: it has even been added, that he continued his counterfeiting employment; and that, from the moment of our first advance into Lithuania, we propagated the report that we had gained possession at Wilna of several millions of Russian bank-bills in the military chests of the hostile army.

Whatever may have been the origin of this counterfeit money, Napoleon contemplated it with extreme repugnance; it is even unknown whether he resolved on making any use of it; at least, it is certain that during the period of our retreat, and when we abandoned Wilna, the greater part of these bills were found there untouched, and burnt by his orders.



CHAP. II.

Prince Poniatowski, however, to whom this expedition appeared to hold out the prospect of a throne, generously united his exertions with those of the emperor's ministers in the attempt to demonstrate its danger. Love of country was in this Polish prince a great and noble passion; his life and death have proved it; but it never infatuated him. He depicted Lithuania as an impracticable desert; its nobility as already become half Russian; the character of its inhabitants as cold and backward: but the impatient emperor interrupted him; he required information for the sake of conducting the enterprise, and not to be deterred from it.

It is true that the greater part of these objections were but a feeble repetition of all those which, for a long time past, had presented themselves to his own mind. People were not aware of the extent to which he had appreciated the danger; of his multiplied exertions, from the 30th of December 1810, to ascertain the nature of the territory which, sooner or later, was destined to become the theatre of a decisive war; how many emissaries he had despatched for the purpose of survey; the multitude of memorials which he caused to be prepared for him respecting the roads to Petersburgh and Moscow; respecting the dispositions of the inhabitants, especially of the mercantile class; and, finally, the resources of every kind which the country was enabled to supply. If he persevered, it was because, far from deceiving himself as to the extent of his force, he did not share in that confidence which, perhaps, precluded others from perceiving of how much consequence the humiliation of Russia was to the future existence of the great French empire.

In this spirit, he once more addressed himself to three[8] of his great officers, whose well-known services and attachment authorized a tone of frankness. All three, in the capacity of ministers, envoys, and ambassadors, had become acquainted with Russia at different epochs. He exerted himself to convince them of the utility, justice, and necessity of this war; but one[9] of them, in particular, often interrupted him with impatience; for when a discussion had once commenced, Napoleon submitted to all its little breaches of decorum.

[Footnote 8: The Duke of Frioul, the Count de Segur, (the author's father,) the Duke of Vicenza.]

[Footnote 9: The Duke of Vicenza.]

That great officer, yielding to the inflexible and impetuous frankness which he derived from his character, from his military education, and, perhaps, from the province which gave him birth, exclaimed, "That it was useless to deceive himself, or pretend to deceive others; that after possessing himself of the Continent, and even of the states belonging to the family of his ally, that ally could not be accused of abandoning the continental system. While the French armies covered all Europe, how could the Russians be reproached for increasing their army? Did it become the ambition of Napoleon to denounce the ambition of Alexander?

"That, in addition to this, the determination of that prince was made up; that, Russia once invaded, no peace could be expected, while a single Frenchman remained upon her soil; that, in that respect, the national and obstinate pride of the Russians was in perfect harmony with that of their emperor.

"That, it was true, his subjects accused Alexander of weakness, but very erroneously; that he was not to be judged of by the complacency which, at Tilsit and at Erfurt, his admiration, his inexperience, and some tincture of ambition, had extorted from him. That this prince loved justice; that he was anxious to have right on his side, and he might, indeed, hesitate till he thought it was so, but then he became inflexible; that, finally, looking to his position with reference to his subjects, he incurred more danger by making a disgraceful peace, than by sustaining an unfortunate war.

"How was it possible, moreover, to avoid seeing that in this war every thing was to be feared, even our allies? Did not Napoleon hear their discontented kings murmuring that they were only his prefects? When they, all of them, only waited a suitable occasion in order to turn against him, why run the risk of giving that occasion birth?"

At the same time, supported by his two colleagues, the duke added, "that since 1805 a system of war which compelled the most disciplined soldier to plunder, had sown the seeds of hatred throughout the whole of that Germany, which the emperor now designed to traverse. Was he then going to precipitate himself and his army beyond all those nations whose wounds, for which they were indebted to us, were not yet healed? What an accumulation of enmity and revenge would he not, by so doing, interpose between himself and France!

"And upon whom did he call, to be his points d'appui?—on Prussia, whom for five years we had been devouring, and whose alliance was hollow and compulsive? He was about, therefore, to trace the longest line of military operations ever drawn, through countries whose fear was taciturn, supple, and perfidious, and which, like the ashes of volcanoes, hid terrific flames, the eruption of which might be provoked by the smallest collision[10].

[Footnote 10: The Duke of Vicenza, the Count de Segur.]

"To sum up all[11], what would be the result of so many conquests? To substitute lieutenants for kings, who, more ambitious than those of Alexander, would, perhaps, imitate their example, without, like them, waiting for the death of their sovereign,—a death, moreover, which he would inevitably meet among so many fields of battle; and that, before the consolidation of his labours, each war reviving in the interior of France the hopes of all kinds of parties, and reviving discussions which had been regarded as at an end.

[Footnote 11: The Count de Segur.]

"Did he wish to know the opinion of the army? That opinion pronounced that his best soldiers were then in Spain; that the regiments, being too often recruited, wanted unity; that they were not reciprocally acquainted; that each was uncertain whether, in case of danger, it could depend upon the other; that the front rank vainly concealed the weakness of the two others; that already, from youth and weakness, many of them sank in their first march beneath the single burden of their knapsacks and their arms.

"And, nevertheless, in this expedition, it was not so much the war which was disliked, as the country where it was to be carried on[12]. The Lithuanians, it was said, desired our presence; but on what a soil? in what a climate? in the midst of what peculiar manners? The campaign of 1806 had made those circumstances too well known! Where could they ever halt, in the midst of these level plains, divested of every species of position fortified by nature or by art?

[Footnote 12: The Duke of Frioul, the Count de Segur, the Duke of Vicenza.]

"Was it not notorious, that all the elements protected these countries from the first of October to the first of June? that, at any other time than the short interval comprised between these two epochs, an army engaged in those deserts of mud and ice might perish there entirely, and ingloriously?" And, they added, "that Lithuania was much more Asiatic than Spain was African; and that the French army, already all but banished from France by a perpetual war, wished at least to preserve its European character.

"Finally, when face to face with the enemy in these deserts, what different motives must actuate the different armies! On the side of the Russians were country, independence, every description of interest, private and public, even to the secret good wishes of our allies! On our side, and in the teeth of so many obstacles, glory alone, unassociated even with that desire of gain, to which the frightful poverty of these countries offered no attraction.

"And what is the end of so many exertions? The French already no longer recognized each other, in the midst of a country now uncircumscribed by any natural frontier; and in which the diversity was so great in manners, persons, and languages." On this particular point, the eldest[13] of these great officers added, "That such an extension was never made without proportionate exhaustion; that it was blotting out France to merge it in Europe; for, in fact, when France should become Europe, it would be France no longer. Would not the meditated departure leave her solitary, deserted, without a ruler, without an army, accessible to every diversion? Who then was there to defend her?" "My renown!" exclaimed the emperor: "I leave my name behind me, and the fear inspired by a nation in arms."

[Footnote 13: M. de Segur.]

And, without appearing in the least shaken by so many objections, he announced "that he was about to organize the empire into cohorts of Ban and Arriere Ban; and without mistrust to leave to Frenchmen the protection of France, of his crown, and of his glory.

"That as to Prussia, he had secured her tranquillity by the impossibility in which he had placed her of moving, even in case of his defeat, or of a descent of the English on the coasts of the North Sea, and in our rear; that he held in his hands the civil and military power of that kingdom; that he was master of Stettin, Custrin, Glogau, Torgau, Spandau, and Magdeburg; that he would post some clear-sighted officers at Colberg, and an army at Berlin; and that with these means, and supported by the fidelity of Saxony, he had nothing to fear from Prussian hatred.

"That as for the rest of Germany, an ancient system of policy, as well as the recent intermarriages with Baden, Bavaria, and Austria, attached her to the interest of France; that he made sure of such of her kings as were indebted to him for their new titles: that after having suppressed anarchy, and ranged himself on the side of kings, strong as he was, the latter could not attack him without inciting their people by the principles of democracy; but that it was scarcely probable that sovereigns would ally themselves with that natural enemy of thrones—an enemy, which, had it not been for him, would have overthrown them, and against which he alone was capable of defending them.

"That, besides, the Germans were a tardy and methodical people, and that in dealing with them he should always have time on his side; that he commanded all the fortresses of Prussia; that Dantzic was a second Gibraltar." This was incorrect, especially in winter. "That Russia ought to excite the apprehension of all Europe, by her military and conquering government, as well as by her savage population, already so numerous, and which augmented annually in the proportion of half a million. Had not her armies been seen in all parts of Italy, in Germany, and even on the Rhine? That by demanding the evacuation of Prussia, she required an impossible concession; since to abandon Prussia, morally ulcerated as she was, was to surrender her into the hands of Russia, in order to be turned against ourselves."

Proceeding afterwards with more animation, he exclaimed, "Why menace my absence with the different parties still alleged to exist in the interior of the empire? Where are they? I see but a single one against me; that of a few royalists, the principal part of the ancient noblesse, superannuated and inexperienced. But they dread my downfall more than they desire it. This is what I told them in Normandy. I am cried up as a great captain, as an able politician, but I am scarcely mentioned as an administrator: that which I have, however, accomplished, of the most difficult and most beneficial description, is the stemming the revolutionary torrent; it would have swallowed up every thing, Europe and yourselves. I have united the most opposite parties, amalgamated rival classes, and yet there exist among you some obstinate nobles who resist; they refuse my places! Very well! what is that to me? It is for your advantage, for your security, that I offer them to you. What would you do singly by yourselves, and without me? You are a mere handful opposed to masses. Do you not see that it is necessary to put an end to the struggle between the tiers-etat and the noblesse, by a complete fusion of all that is best worth preservation in the two classes? I offer you the hand of amity, and you reject it! but what need have I of you? While I support you, I do myself an injury in the eyes of the people; for what am I but the king of the tiers-etat: is not that sufficient?"

Passing more calmly to another question: "He was quite aware," he said, "of the ambition of his generals; but it was diverted by war, and would never be sanctioned in its excesses by French soldiers, who were too proud of, and too much attached to their country. That if war was dangerous, peace had also its dangers: that in bringing back his armies into the interior, it would enclose and concentrate there too many daring interests and passions, which repose and their association would tend to ferment, and which he should no longer be able to keep within bounds: that it was necessary to give free vent to all such aspirations; and that, after all, he dreaded them less without the empire than within it."

He concluded thus: "Do you dread the war, as endangering my life? It was thus that, in the times of conspiracy, attempts were made to frighten me about Georges; he was said to be every where upon my track: that wretched being was to fire at me. Well! suppose he had! He would at the utmost have killed my aide-de-camp: but to kill me was impossible! Had I at that time accomplished the decrees of fate? I feel myself impelled towards a goal of which I am ignorant. As soon as I shall have reached it, so soon shall I no longer be of service,—an atom will then suffice to put me down; but till then, all human efforts can avail nothing against me. Whether I am in Paris, or with the army, is, therefore, quite indifferent. When my hour comes, a fever, or a fall from my horse in hunting, will kill me as effectually as a bullet: our days are numbered."

This opinion, useful as it may be in the moment of danger, is too apt to blind conquerors to the price at which the great results which they obtain are purchased. They indulge a belief in pre-destination, either because they have experienced, more than other men, whatever is most unexpected in human destiny, or because it relieves their consciences of too heavy a load of responsibility. It was like a return to the times of the crusades, when these words, it is the will of God, were considered a sufficient answer to all the objections of a prudent and pacific policy.

Indeed, the expedition of Napoleon into Russia bears a mournful resemblance to that of St. Louis into Egypt and Africa. These invasions, the one undertaken for the interests of Heaven, the other for those of the earth, terminated in a similar manner; and these two great examples admonish the world, that the vast and profound calculations of this age of intelligence may be followed by the same results as the irregular impulses of religious frenzy in ages of ignorance and superstition.

In these two expeditions, however, there can be no comparison between their opportunities or their chances of success. The last was indispensable to the completion of a great design on the point of being accomplished: its object was not out of reach; the means for reaching it were not inadequate. It may be, that the moment for its execution was ill chosen; that the progress of it was sometimes too precipitate, at other times unsteady; but on these points facts will speak sufficiently: it is for them to decide.



CHAP. III.

In this manner did Napoleon reply to all objections. His skilful hand was able to comprehend and turn to his purpose every disposition; and, in fact, when he wanted to persuade, there was a kind of charm in his deportment which it was impossible to resist. One felt overpowered by his superior strength, and compelled, as it were, to submit to his influence. It was, if it may be so expressed, a kind of magnetic influence; for his ardent and variable genius infused itself entirely into all his desires, the least as well as the greatest: whatever he willed, all his energies and all his faculties united to effect: they appeared at his beck; they hastened forward; and, obedient to his dictation, simultaneously assumed the forms which he desired.

It was thus that the greater part of those whom he wished to gain over found themselves, as it were, fascinated by him in spite of themselves. It was flattering to your vanity to see the master of Europe appearing to have no other ambition, no other desire than that of convincing you; to behold those features, so formidable to multitudes, expressing towards you no other feeling but a mild and affecting benevolence; to hear that mysterious man, whose every word was historical, yielding, as if for your sake alone, to the irresistible impulse of the most frank and confiding disclosure; and that voice, so caressing while it addressed you, was it not the same, whose lowest whisper rang throughout all Europe, announced wars, decided battles, settled the fate of empires, raised or destroyed reputations? What vanity could resist a charm of so great potency? Any defensive position was forced on all points; his eloquence was so much more persuasive, as he himself appeared to be persuaded.

On this occasion, there was no variety of tints with which his brilliant and fertile imagination did not adorn his project, in order to convince and allure. The same text supplied him with a thousand different commentaries, with which the character and position of each of his interlocutors inspired him; he enlisted each in his undertaking, by presenting it to him under the form and colour, and point of view, most likely to gratify him.

We have just seen in what way he silenced the one who felt alarmed at the expenses of the conquest of Russia, which he wished him to approve, by holding out the perspective, that another would be made to defray them.

He told the military man, who was astonished by the hazard of the expedition, but likely to be easily seduced by the grandeur of ambitious ideas, that peace was to be conquered at Constantinople; that is to say, at the extremity of Europe; the individual was thus free to anticipate, that it was not merely to the staff of a marshal, but to a royal sceptre, that he might elevate his pretensions.

To a minister[14] of high rank under the ancient regime, whom the idea of shedding so much blood, to gratify ambition, filled with dismay, he declared "that it was a war of policy exclusively; that it was the English alone whom he meant to attack through Russia; that the campaign would be short; that afterwards France would be at rest; that it was the fifth act of the drama—the denouement."

[Footnote 14: Count Mole.]

To others, he pleaded the ambition of Russia, and the force of circumstances, which dragged him into the war in spite of himself. With superficial and inexperienced individuals, to whom he neither wished to explain nor dissemble, he cut matters short, by saying, "You understand nothing of all this; you are ignorant of its antecedents and its consequents."

But to the princes of his own family he had long revealed the state of his thoughts; he complained that they did not sufficiently appreciate his position. "Can you not see," said he to them, "that as I was not born upon a throne, I must support myself on it, as I ascended it, by my renown? that it is necessary for it to go on increasing; that a private individual, become a sovereign like myself, can no longer stop; that he must be continually ascending, and that to remain stationary will be his ruin?"

He then depicted to them all the ancient dynasties armed against his, devising plots, preparing wars, and seeking to destroy, in his person, the dangerous example of a roi parvenu. It was on that account that every peace appeared in his eyes a conspiracy of the weak against the strong, of the vanquished against the victor; and especially of the great by birth against the great by their own exertions. So many successive coalitions had confirmed him in that apprehension! Indeed, he often thought of no longer tolerating an ancient power in Europe, of constituting himself into an epoch, of becoming a new era for thrones; in short, of making every thing take its date from him.

It was in this manner that he disclosed his inmost thoughts to his family by those vivid pictures of his political position, which, at the present day, will probably appear neither false nor over-coloured: and yet the gentle Josephine, always occupied with the task of restraining and calming him, often gave him to understand "that, along with the consciousness of his superior genius, he never seemed to possess sufficient consciousness of his own power: that, like all jealous characters, he incessantly required fresh proofs of its existence. How came it, amidst the noisy acclamations of Europe, that his anxious ear could hear the few solitary voices which disputed his legitimacy? that in this manner his troubled spirit was always seeking agitation as its element: that strong as he was to desire, but feeble to enjoy, he himself, therefore, would be the only one whom he could never conquer."

But in 1811 Josephine was separated from Napoleon, and although he still continued to visit her in her seclusion, the voice of that empress had lost the influence which continual intercourse, familiar habits of affection, and the desire of mutual confidence, impart.

Meanwhile, fresh disagreements with the pope complicated the relations of France. Napoleon then addressed himself to cardinal Fesch. Fesch was a zealous churchman, and overflowing with Italian vivacity: he defended the papal pretensions with obstinate ardour; and such was the warmth of his discussions with the emperor, on a former occasion, that the latter got into a passion, and told him, "that he would compel him to obey." "And who contests your power?" returned the cardinal: "but force is not argument; for if I am right, not all your power can make me wrong. Besides, your majesty knows that I do not fear martyrdom."—"Martyrdom!" replied Buonaparte, with a transition from violence to laughter; "do not reckon on that, I beseech you, M. le Cardinal: martyrdom is an affair in which there must be two persons concerned; and as to myself, I have no desire to make a martyr of any individual."

It is said that these discussions assumed a more serious character towards the end of 1811. An eye-witness asserts that the cardinal, till that time a stranger to politics, then began to mix them up with his religious controversies; that he conjured Napoleon not thus to fly in the face of men, the elements, religion, earth and heaven, at the same time; and that, at last, he expressed his apprehension of seeing him sink under such a weight of enmity.

The only reply which the emperor made to this vehement attack was to take him by the hand, and leading him to the window, to open it, and inquire, "Do you see that star above us?"—"No, sire."—"Look again."—"Sire, I do not see it."—"Very well! I see it!" replied Napoleon. The cardinal, seized with astonishment, remained silent, concluding that there was no human voice sufficiently loud to make itself heard by an ambition so gigantic, that it already reached the heavens.

As to the witness of this singular scene, he understood in quite a different sense these words of his sovereign. They did not appear to him like the expression of an overweening confidence in his destiny, but rather of the great distinction which Napoleon meant to infer as existing between the grasp of his genius and that of the cardinal's policy.

But granting even that Napoleon's soul was not exempt from a tendency to superstition, his intellect was both too strong and too enlightened to permit such vast events to depend upon a weakness. One great inquietude possessed him; it was the idea of that same death, which he appeared so much to brave. He felt his strength decaying; and he dreaded that when he should be no more, the French empire, that sublime trophy of so many labours and victories, would fall a prey to dismemberment.

"The Russian emperor," he said, "was the only sovereign who pressed upon the summit of that colossal edifice. Replete with youth and animation, the strength of his rival was constantly augmenting, while his was already on the decline." It seemed to him that Alexander, on the banks of the Niemen, only waited the intelligence of his death, to possess himself of the sceptre of Europe, and snatch it from the hands of his feeble successor. "While all Italy, Switzerland, Austria, Prussia, and the whole of Germany, were marching under his banners, why should he delay to anticipate the danger, and consolidate the fabric of the great empire, by driving back Alexander and the Russian power, enfeebled as they would be by the loss of all Poland, beyond the Boristhenes?"

Such were his sentiments, pronounced in secret confidence; they, doubtless, comprised the true motives of that terrible war. As to his precipitation in commencing it, he was, it would seem, hurried on by the instinct of his approaching death. An acrid humour diffused through his blood, and to which he imputed his irascibility, ("but without which," added he, "battles are not to be gained,") undermined his constitution.

A profound knowledge of the organization and mysteries of the human frame would probably enable us to decide whether this concealed malady was not one of the causes of that restless activity which hurried on the course of events, and in which originated both his elevation and his fall.

This internal enemy testified its presence, more and more, by an internal pain, and by the violent spasms of the stomach which it inflicted. Even in 1806, at Warsaw, during one of its agonizing crises, Napoleon was[15] heard to exclaim, "that he carried about with him the germ of premature dissolution; and that he should die of the same malady as his father."

[Footnote 15: By the count Lobau.]

Short rides in hunting, even the most gentle gallop of his horse, already began to fatigue him: how then was he to support the long journeys, and the rapid and violent movements preparatory to battles? Thus it was, that while the greater part of those who surrounded him concluded him to be impelled into Russia by his vast ambition, by his restless spirit and his love of war, he in solitude, and almost unobserved, was poising the fearful responsibilities of the enterprise, and urged by necessity, he only made up his mind to it after a course of painful hesitation.

At length, on the 3d of August, 1811, at an audience in the midst of all the ambassadors of Europe, he declared himself; but the burst of indignation which was the presage of war, was an additional proof of his repugnance to commence it. It might be that the defeat which the Russians had just sustained at Routschouk had inflated his hopes; perhaps he imagined that he might, by menace, arrest the preparations of Alexander.

It was prince Kourakin whom he addressed. That ambassador having just made protestations of the pacific intentions of his master, he interrupted him: "No," exclaimed he, "your master desires war; I know, through my generals, that the Russian army is hurrying towards the Niemen! The emperor Alexander deludes, and gains all my envoys!" Then, perceiving Caulaincourt, he rapidly traversed the hall, and violently appealing to him, said: "Yes, and you too have become a Russian: you have been seduced by the emperor Alexander." The duke firmly replied, "Yes, sire; because, in this question, I consider him to be a Frenchman." Napoleon was silent; but from that moment, he treated that great dignitary coldly, without, however, absolutely repelling him: several times he even essayed, by fresh arguments, intermixed with familiar caresses, to win him over to his opinion, but ineffectually; he always found him inflexible; ready to serve him, but without approving the nature of the service.



CHAP. IV.

While Napoleon, prompted by his natural character, by his position, and by circumstances, thus appeared to wish for, and to accelerate the period of conflict, he preserved the secret of his embarrassment. The year 1811 was wasted in parleys about peace, and preparations for war. 1812 had just begun, and the horizon was already obscured. Our armies in Spain had given way; Ciudad Rodrigo was taken by the English (on the 19th of January, 1812); the discussions of Napoleon with the Pope increased in bitterness; Kutusof had destroyed the Turkish army on the Danube (on the 8th of December, 1811); France even became alarmed about her means of subsistence; every thing, in short, appeared to divert the attention of Napoleon from Russia; to recall it to France, and fix it there; while he, far from blinding his judgment, recognized in these contrarieties the indications of his ever-faithful fortune.

It was, especially in the midst of those long winter nights, when individuals are left more than usually to their own reflections, that his star seemed to enlighten him with its most brilliant illumination: it exhibited to him the different ruling genii of the vanquished nations, in silence awaiting the moment for avenging their wrongs; the dangers which he was about to confront, those which he left behind him, even in his own family: it showed him, that like the returns of his army, the census of the population of his empire was delusive, not so much in respect to its numerical as to its real strength; scarcely any men were included in it but those who were old in years, or worn out in the service, and children—few men in the prime of life. Where were they? The tears of wives, the cries of mothers answered! bowed in sadness to the earth, which, but for them, would remain uncultivated, they cursed the scourge of war as identified in his person.

Nevertheless, he was about to attack Russia, without having subjected Spain; forgetting the principle of which he himself so often supplied both the precept and example, "never to strike at two points at once; but on one only, and always in mass." Wherefore, in fact, should he abandon a brilliant, though uncertain position, in order to throw himself into so critical a situation, that the slightest check might ruin every thing; and where every reverse would be decisive?

At that moment, no necessity of position, no sentiment of self-love, could prompt Napoleon to combat his own arguments, and prevent him from listening to himself. Hence he became thoughtful and agitated. He collected accounts of the actual condition of the different powers of Europe; he ordered an exact and complete summary of them to be made; and buried himself in the perusal: his anxiety increased; to him of all men, irresolution was a punishment.

Frequently was he discovered half reclined on a sofa, where he remained for hours, plunged in profound meditation; then he would start up, convulsively, and with an ejaculation, fancying he heard his name, he would exclaim, "Who calls me?" Then rising, and walking about with hurried steps, he at length added, "No! beyond a doubt, nothing is yet sufficiently matured round me, even in my own family, to admit of so distant a war. It must be delayed for three years!" And he gave orders that the summary which reminded him of the dangers of his position should be constantly left on his table. It was his frequent subject of consultation, and every time he did so, he approved and repeated his first conclusions.

It is not known what dictated so salutary an inspiration; but it is certain, that about that epoch (the 25th of March, 1812), Czernicheff was the bearer of new proposals to his sovereign. Napoleon offered to make a declaration that he would contribute, neither directly nor indirectly, to the re-establishment of the kingdom of Poland; and to come to an understanding about the other subjects in dispute.

At a later period, (on the 17th of April,) the Duke of Bassano proposed to Lord Castlereagh an arrangement relative to the Peninsula, and the kingdom of the Two Sicilies; and in other respects offered to negotiate on the basis, that each of the two powers should keep all that war could not wrest from it. But Castlereagh replied, that the engagements of good faith would not permit England to treat without making the recognition of Ferdinand VII. as king of Spain a preliminary of the negotiation.

On the 25th of April, Maret, in apprising Count Romanzoff of this communication, recapitulated a portion of the complaints which Napoleon made against Russia;—firstly, the ukase of the 31st of December, 1810, which prohibited the entry into Russia of the greater part of French productions, and destroyed the continental system; secondly, the protest of Alexander against the union of the duchy of Oldenburg; and thirdly, the armaments of Russia.

This minister referred to the fact of Napoleon having offered to grant an indemnity to the Duke of Oldenburg, and to enter into a formal engagement not to concur in any undertaking for the re-establishment of Poland; that, in 1811, he had proposed to Alexander, to give Prince Kourakin the requisite powers to treat with the duke of Bassano respecting all matters in dispute; but that the Russian emperor had eluded the overture, by promising to send Nesselrode to Paris; a promise which was never fulfilled.

The Russian ambassador, almost at the same time, transmitted the emperor Alexander's ultimatum, which required the entire evacuation of Prussia; that of Swedish Pomerania; a reduction of the garrison of Dantzic. On the other hand, he offered to accept an indemnity for the duchy of Oldenburg; he was willing to enter into commercial arrangements with France; and finally promised empty modifications of the ukase of the 31st December, 1810.

But it was too late: besides, at the point to which both parties were now arrived, that ultimatum necessarily led to war. Napoleon was too proud, both of himself and of France, he was too much overruled by his position, to yield to a menacing negotiator, to leave Prussia at liberty to throw herself into the open arms of Russia, and thus to abandon Poland. He was too far advanced; he would be obliged to retrograde, in order to find a resting point; and in his situation, Napoleon considered every retrograde step as the incipient point of a complete downfall.



CHAP. V.

His wishes for delay being thus frustrated, he surveyed the enormous volume of his military strength; the recollections of Tilsit and Erfurt were revived; he received with complacency delusive information respecting the character of his rival. At one time, he hoped that Alexander would give way at the approach of so menacing an invasion; at another, he gave the reins to his conquering imagination; he indulgently allowed it to deploy its masses from Cadiz to Cazan, and to cover the whole of Europe. In the next moment his fancy rioted in the pleasure of being at Moscow. That city was eight hundred leagues from him, and already he was collecting information with respect to it, as if he was on the eve of occupying it. A French physician having recently arrived from that capital, he sent for, and interrogated him as to the diseases there prevalent; he even went back to the plague which had formerly desolated it; he was anxious to learn its origin, progress, and termination. The answers of this physician were so satisfactory, that he immediately attached him to his service.

Fully impressed, however, with a sense of the peril in which he was about to embark, he sought to surround himself with all his friends. Even Talleyrand was recalled; he was to have been sent to Warsaw, but the jealousy of a rival and an intrigue again involved him in disgrace; Napoleon, deluded by a calumny, adroitly circulated, believed that he had been betrayed by him. His anger was extreme; its expression terrible. Savary made vain efforts to undeceive him, which were prolonged up to the epoch of our entry into Wilna; there that minister again sent a letter of Talleyrand to the emperor; it depicted the influence of Turkey and Sweden on the Russian war, and made an offer of employing his most zealous efforts in negotiating with those two powers.

But Napoleon only replied to it by an exclamation of contempt: "Does that man believe himself to be so necessary? Does he expect to teach me?" He then compelled his secretary to send that letter to the very minister who stood most in dread of Talleyrand's influence.

It would not be correct to say, that all those about Napoleon beheld the war with an anxious eye. Inside the palace, as well as without it, many military men were found who entered with ardour into the policy of their chief. The greater part agreed as to the possibility of the conquest of Russia, either because their hopes discerned in it a means of acquiring something, according to their position, from the lowest distinction up to a throne; or that they suffered themselves to participate in the enthusiasm of the Poles; or that the expedition, if conducted with prudence, might fairly look to success; or, to sum up all, because they conceived every thing possible to Napoleon.

Among the ministers of the emperor, several disapproved it; the greater number preserved silence: one alone was accused of flattery, and that without any ground. It is true he was heard to repeat, "That the emperor was not sufficiently great; that it was necessary for him to become greater still, in order to be able to stop." But that minister was, in reality, what so many courtiers wished to appear; he had a real and absolute faith in the genius and fortune of his sovereign.

In other respects, it is wrong to impute to his counsels a large portion of our misfortunes. Napoleon was not a man to be influenced. So soon as his object was marked out, and he had made advances towards its acquisition, he admitted of no farther contradiction. He then appeared as if he would hear nothing but what flattered his determination; he repelled with ill-humour, and even with apparent incredulity, all disagreeable intelligence, as if he feared to be shaken by it. This mode of acting changed its name according to his fortune; when fortunate, it was called force of character; when unfortunate, it was designated as infatuation.

The knowledge of such a disposition induced some subalterns to make false reports to him. Even a minister himself felt occasionally compelled to maintain a dangerous silence. The former inflated his hopes of success, in order to imitate the proud confidence of their chief, and in order, by their countenance, to stamp upon his mind the impression of a happy omen; the second sometimes declined communicating bad news, in order, as he said, to avoid the harsh rebuffs which he had then to encounter.

But this fear, which did not restrain Caulaincourt and several others, had as little influence upon Duroc, Daru, Lobau, Rapp, Lauriston, and sometimes even Berthier. These ministers and generals, each in his sphere, did not spare the emperor when the truth was to be told. If it so happened that he was enraged by it, Duroc, without yielding, assumed an air of indifference; Lobau resisted with roughness; Berthier sighed, and retired with tears in his eyes; Caulaincourt and Daru, the one turning pale, the other reddening with anger, repelled the vehement contradictions of the emperor; the first with impetuous obstinacy, and the second with short and dry determination.

It should, however, be added here, that these warm discussions were never productive of bad consequences; good temper was restored immediately after, apparently without leaving any other impression than redoubled esteem on the part of Napoleon, for the noble frankness which they had displayed.

I have entered into these details, because they are either not known, or imperfectly known; because Napoleon in his closet was quite different from the emperor in public; and because this portion of the palace has hitherto remained secret; for, in that new and serious court, there was little conversation: all were rigorously classed, so that one salon knew not what passed in another; finally, because it is difficult to comprehend the great events of history, without a perfect knowledge of the character and manners of the principal personages.

Meantime a famine threatened France. The universal panic quickly aggravated the evil, by the precautions which it suggested. Avarice, always prompt in seizing the means of enriching itself, monopolized the corn while at a low price, and waited till hunger should repurchase it at an exorbitant rate. The alarm then became general. Napoleon was compelled to suspend his departure; he impatiently urged his council; but the steps to be taken were important, his presence necessary; and that war, in which the loss of every hour was irreparable, was delayed for two months longer.

The emperor did not give way to this obstacle; the delay, besides, gave the new harvests of the Russians time to grow. These would supply his cavalry; his army would require fewer transports in its train: its progress being lightened, would be more rapid; he would sooner reach the enemy; and this great expedition, like so many others, would be terminated by a battle.

Such were his anticipations; for, without deceiving himself as to his good fortune, he reckoned on its influence upon others; it entered into his estimate of his forces. It was for this reason that he always pushed it forward where other things failed, making up by that whatever was deficient in his means, without fearing to wear it out by constant use, in the conviction that his enemies would place even more faith in it than himself. However, it will be seen in the sequel of this expedition, that he placed too much reliance on its power, and that Alexander was able to evade it.

Such was Napoleon! Superior to the passions of men by his native greatness, and also by the circumstance of being controlled by a still greater passion! for when, indeed, are these masters of the world ever entirely masters of themselves? Meantime blood was again about to flow; and thus, in their great career, the founders of empires press forward to their object, like Fate, whose ministers they seem, (and whose march neither wars nor earthquakes, nor all the scourges which Providence permits, ever arrest,) without deigning to make the utility of their purposes comprehensible to their victims.



BOOK III.



CHAP. I.

The time for deliberation had passed, and that for action at last arrived. On the 9th of May, 1812, Napoleon, hitherto always triumphant, quitted a palace which he was destined never again to enter victorious.

From Paris to Dresden his march was a continued triumph. The east of France, which he first traversed, was a part of the empire entirely devoted to him; very different from the west and the south, she was only acquainted with him by means of benefits and victories. Numerous and brilliant armies, attracted by the fertility of Germany, and which imagined themselves marching to a prompt and certain glory, proudly traversed those countries, scattering their money among them, and consuming their productions. War, in that quarter, always bore the semblance of justice.

At a later period, when our victorious bulletins reached them, the imagination, astonished to see itself surpassed by the reality, caught fire; enthusiasm possessed these people, as in the times of Austerlitz and Jena; numerous groups collected round the couriers, whose tidings were listened to with avidity; and the inhabitants, in a transport of joy, never separated without exclamations of "Long live the emperor! Long live our brave army!"

It is, besides, well known, that this portion of France has been warlike from time immemorial. It is frontier ground; its inhabitants are nursed amidst the din of arms; and arms are, consequently, held there in honour. It was the common conversation in that quarter, that this war would liberate Poland, so much attached to France; that the barbarians of Asia, with whom Europe was threatened, would be driven back into their native deserts; that Napoleon would once more return, loaded with all the fruits of victory. Would not the eastern departments profit most by that event? Up to that time, were they not indebted for their wealth to war, which caused all the commerce of France with Europe to pass through their hands? Blockaded, in fact, in every other quarter, the empire only breathed and received its supplies through its eastern provinces.

For ten years, their roads had been covered with travellers of all ranks, hastening to admire the great nation, its daily embellished metropolis, the chefs-d'oeuvre of all the arts, and of all ages, which victory had there assembled; and especially that extraordinary man who seemed destined to carry the national glory beyond every degree of glory hitherto known. Gratified in their interests, flattered in their vanity, the people of the east of France owed every thing to victory. Neither were they ungrateful; they followed the emperor with their warmest wishes: on all sides were acclamations and triumphal arches; on all sides the same intensity of devotion.

In Germany, there was less affection, but, perhaps, more homage. Conquered and subjected, the Germans, either as soothing to their vanity, or from habitual inclination for the marvellous, were tempted to consider Napoleon as a supernatural being. Astonished, beside themselves, and carried along by the universal impulse, these worthy people exerted themselves to be, sincerely, all that it was requisite to seem.

They hurried forward to line both sides of the long road by which the emperor passed. Their princes quitted their capitals, and thronged the towns, where the great arbiter of their destiny was to pass a few short moments of his journey. The empress, and a numerous court, followed Napoleon; he proceeded to confront the terrible risks of a distant and perilous war, as if he were returning victorious and triumphant. This was not the mode in which he was formerly accustomed to meet a conflict.

He had expressed a wish that the Emperor of Austria, several kings, and a crowd of princes, should meet him at Dresden on his way: his desire was fulfilled; all thronged to meet him—some led by hope, others prompted by fear: for himself, his motives were to make sure of his power, to exhibit and to enjoy it.

In this approximation with the ancient house of Austria, his ambition delighted in exhibiting to Germany a family meeting. He imagined that so brilliant an assemblage of sovereigns would advantageously contrast with the isolated state of the Russian monarch; and that he would probably be alarmed by so general a desertion. In fact, this assembly of coalesced monarchs seemed to announce that this war with Russia was European.

He was then in the centre of Germany, exhibiting to it his consort, the daughter of its emperors, sitting by his side. Whole nations had quitted their homes to throng his path; rich and poor, nobles and plebeians, friends and enemies, all hurried to the scene. Their curious and anxious groups were seen crowding together in the streets, the roads, and the public places; they passed whole days and nights with their eyes fixed on the door and windows of his palace. It was not his crown, his rank, the luxury of his court, but him only, on whom they desired to feast their eyes; it was a memento of his features which they were anxious to obtain: they wished to be able to tell their less fortunate countrymen and posterity, that they had seen Napoleon.

On the stage, poets so far degraded themselves as to make him a divinity. It was in this manner that whole nations became his flatterers.

There was, in fact, little difference between kings and people in the homage of admiration; no one waited for the example of imitation; the agreement was unanimous. Nevertheless, the inward sentiments were very different.

At this important interview, we were attentive in observing the different degrees of zeal which these princes exhibited, and the various shades of our chieftain's pride. We had hoped that his prudence, or the worn-out feeling of displaying his power, would prevent him from abusing it; but was it to be expected that he, who, while yet an inferior, never spoke, even to his superiors, but in the language of command, now that he was the conqueror and master of them all, could submit to tedious and minute details of ceremony? He, however, displayed moderation, and even tried to make himself agreeable; but it was obviously an effort, and not without allowing the fatigue it gave him to be perceived. Among these princes, he had rather the air of receiving them, than of being by them received.

As to them, it might be said, that, knowing his pride, and become hopeless of subduing him, except by means of himself, these monarchs and their people only humbled themselves before him, in order to aggravate the disproportion of his elevation, and by so doing, to dazzle his moral vision. In their assemblies, their attitude, their words, even the tone of their voice, attested his ascendancy over them. All were assembled there for his sake alone! They scarcely hazarded an objection, so impressed were they with the full conviction of that superiority, of which he was himself too well aware. A feudal lord could not have exacted more of his vassal chiefs.

His levee presented a still more remarkable spectacle! Sovereign princes came to it in order to wait for an audience of the conqueror of Europe. They were so intermingled with his officers, that the latter were frequently warning each other to take care, and not to crowd upon these new courtiers, who were confounded with them. It was thus that the presence of Napoleon made distinctions disappear; he was as much their chief as ours. This common dependency appeared to put all around him on a level. It is probable that, even then, the ill-disguised military pride of several French generals gave offence to these princes, with whom they conceived themselves raised to an equality; and, in fact, whatever may be the noble blood and rank of the vanquished, his victor becomes his equal.

The more prudent among us, however, began to be alarmed; they said, but in an under-tone, that a man must fancy himself more than human to denaturalize and displace every thing in this manner, without fearing to involve himself in the universal confusion. They saw these monarchs quitting the palace of Napoleon with their eyes inflamed, and their bosoms swoln with the most poignant resentment. They pictured them, during the night, when alone with their ministers, giving vent to the heartfelt chagrin by which they were devoured. Every thing was calculated to render their suffering more acute! How importunate was the crowd which it was necessary to pass through, in order to reach the gate of their proud master, while their own remained deserted! Indeed, all things, even their own people, appeared to betray them. While boasting of his good fortune, was it not evident that he was insulting their misfortunes? They had, therefore, come to Dresden in order to swell the pomp of Napoleon's triumph—for it was over them that he thus triumphed: each cry of admiration offered to him was a cry of reproach to them; his grandeur was their humiliation, his victory their defeat.

Doubtless they, in this manner, gave vent to their bitter feelings; and hatred, day after day, sank more deeply into their hearts. One prince was first observed to withdraw precipitately from this painful position. The Empress of Austria, whose ancestors General Buonaparte had dispossessed in Italy, made herself remarked by her aversion, which she vainly endeavoured to disguise; it escaped from her by an involuntary impulse, which Napoleon instantly detected, and subdued by a smile: but she employed her understanding and attraction in gently winning hearts to her opinion, in order to sow them afterwards with the seeds of her hatred.

The Empress of France unintentionally aggravated this fatal disposition. She was observed to eclipse her mother-in-law by the superior magnificence of her costume: if Napoleon required more reserve, she resisted, and even wept, till the emperor, either through affection, fatigue, or absence of mind, was induced to give way. It is also asserted that notwithstanding her origin, remarks calculated to wound German pride escaped that princess, in extravagant comparisons between her native and her adopted country. Napoleon rebuked her for this, but gently; he was pleased with a patriotism which he had himself inspired; and he fancied he repaired her imprudent language by the munificence of his presents.

This assemblage, therefore, could not fail of irritating a variety of feelings: the vanity of many was wounded by the collision. Napoleon, however, having exerted himself to please, thought that he had given general satisfaction: while waiting at Dresden the result of the marches of his army, the numerous columns of which were still traversing the territories of his allies, he more especially occupied himself with his political arrangements.

General Lauriston, ambassador from France at Petersburgh, received orders to apply for the Russian emperor's permission to proceed to Wilna, in order to communicate definitive proposals to him. General Narbonne, aid-de-camp of Napoleon, departed for the imperial head-quarters of Alexander, in order to assure that prince of the pacific intentions of France, and to invite him to Dresden. The archbishop of Malines was despatched in order to direct the impulses of Polish patriotism. The King of Saxony made up his mind to the loss of the grand duchy; but he was flattered with the hope of a more substantial indemnity.

Meantime, ever since the first days of meeting, surprise was expressed at the absence of the King of Prussia from the imperial court; but it was soon understood that he was prohibited from coming. This prince was the more alarmed in proportion as he had less deserved such treatment. His presence would have been embarrassing. Nevertheless, encouraged by Narbonne, he resolved on making his appearance. When his arrival was announced to the emperor, the latter grew angry, and at first refused to see him:—"What did this prince want of him? Was not the constant importunity of his letters, and his continual solicitations sufficient? Why did he come again to persecute him with his presence? What need had he of him?" But Duroc insisted; he reminded Napoleon of the want that he would experience of Prussia, in a war with Russia; and the doors of the emperor were opened to the monarch. He was received with the respect due to his superior rank. His renewed assurances of fidelity, of which he gave numerous proofs, were accepted.

It was reported at that time, that this monarch was led to expect the possession of the Russo-German provinces, which his troops were to be commissioned to invade. It is even affirmed that, after their conquest, he demanded their investiture from Napoleon. It has been added, but in vague terms, that Napoleon allowed the Prince-Royal of Prussia to aspire to the hand of one of his nieces. This was to be the remuneration for the services which Prussia was to render him in this new war. He promised, so he expressed himself, that he would go and sound her. It was thus that Frederick, by becoming the relation of Napoleon, would be enabled to preserve his diminished power; but proofs are wanting, to show that the idea of this marriage seduced the King of Prussia, as the hope of a similar alliance had seduced the Prince of Spain.

Such at that time was the submission of sovereigns to the power of Napoleon. It offers a striking example of the empire of necessity over all persons, and shows to what lengths the prospect of gain and the fear of loss will lead princes as well as private persons.

Meanwhile, Napoleon still waited the result of the negotiations of Lauriston and of Narbonne. He hoped to vanquish Alexander by the mere aspect of his united army, and, above all, by the menacing splendour of his residence at Dresden. He himself expressed this opinion, when, some days after, at Posen, he said to General Dessolles, "The assemblage at Dresden not having persuaded Alexander to make peace, it was now solely to be expected from war."

On that day he talked of nothing but his former victories. It seemed as if, doubtful of the future, he recurred to the past, and that he found it necessary to arm himself with all his most glorious recollections, in order to confront a peril of so great a magnitude. In fact, then, as since, he felt the necessity of deluding himself with the alleged weakness of his rival's character. As the period of so great an invasion approached, he hesitated in considering it as certain; for he no longer possessed the consciousness of his infallibility, nor that warlike assurance which the fire and energy of youth impart, nor that feeling of success which makes it certain.

In other respects, these parleys were not only attempts to preserve peace, but an additional ruse de guerre. By them he hoped to render the Russians either sufficiently negligent, to let themselves be surprised, dispersed, or, if united, sufficiently presumptuous to venture to wait his approach. In either case, the war would be finished by a coup-de-main, or by a victory. But Lauriston was not received. Narbonne, when he returned, stated, "that he had found the Russians in a state of mind as remote from dejection as from boasting. From their emperor's reply to him, it appeared that they preferred war to a dishonourable peace; that they would take care not to expose themselves to the hazards of a battle against too formidable an enemy; and that, in short, they were resolved on making every sacrifice, in order to spin out the war, and to baffle Napoleon."

This answer, which reached the emperor in the midst of the greatest display of his glory, was treated with contempt. To say the truth, I must add, that a great Russian nobleman had contributed to deceive him: either from mistaken views, or from artifice, this Muscovite had persuaded him, that his own sovereign would recede at the sight of difficulties, and be easily discouraged by reverses. Unfortunately, the remembrance of Alexander's obsequiousness to him at Tilsit and at Erfurt confirmed the French emperor in that fallacious opinion.

He remained till the 29th of May at Dresden, proud of the homage which he knew how to appreciate, exhibiting to Europe princes and kings, sprung from the most ancient families of Germany, forming a numerous court round a prince deriving all distinction from himself. He appeared to take a pleasure in multiplying the chances of the great game of fortune, as if to encircle with them, and render less extraordinary, that which placed him on the throne, and thus to accustom others as well as himself to them.



CHAP. II.

At length, impatient to conquer the Russians, and escape from the homage of the Germans, Napoleon quitted Dresden. He only remained at Posen long enough to satisfy the Poles. He neglected Warsaw, whither the war did not imperiously call him, and where he would have again been involved in politics. He stopped at Thorn, in order to inspect his fortifications, his magazines, and his troops. There the complaints of the Poles, whom our allies pillaged without mercy, and insulted, reached him. Napoleon addressed severe reproaches, and even threats, to the King of Westphalia: but it is well known that these were thrown away; that their effect was lost in the midst of too rapid a movement; that, besides, his fits of anger, like all other fits, were followed by exhaustion; that then, with the return of his natural good humour, he regretted, and frequently tried, to soften the pain he had occasioned; that, finally, he might reproach himself as the cause of the disorders which provoked him; for, from the Oder to the Vistula, and even to the Niemen, if provisions were abundant and properly stationed, the less portable foraging supplies were deficient. Our cavalry were already forced to cut the green rye, and to strip the houses of their thatch, in order to feed their horses. It is true, that all did not stop at that; but when one disorder is authorized, how can others be forbidden?

The evil augmented on the other side of the Niemen. The emperor had calculated upon a multitude of light cars and heavy waggons, each destined to carry several thousand pounds weight, through a sandy region, which carts, with no greater weight than some quintals, with difficulty traversed. These conveyances were organized in battalions and squadrons. Each battalion of light cars, called comtoises, consisted of six hundred, and might carry six thousand quintals of flour. The battalion of heavy vehicles, drawn by oxen, carried four thousand eight hundred quintals. There were besides twenty-six squadrons of waggons, loaded with military equipages; a great quantity of waggons with tools of all kinds, as well as thousands of artillery and hospital waggons, one siege and six bridge equipages.

The provision-waggons were to take in their loading at the magazines established on the Vistula. When the army passed that river, it was ordered to provide itself, without halting, with provisions for twenty-five days, but not to use them till they were beyond the Niemen. In conclusion, the greater part of these means of transport failed, either because the organization of soldiers, to act as conductors of military convoys, was essentially vicious, the motives of honour and ambition not being called into action to maintain proper discipline; or chiefly because these vehicles were too heavy for the soil, the distances too considerable, and the privations and fatigues too great; certain it is that the greater number of them scarcely reached the Vistula.

The army, therefore, provisioned itself on its match. The country being fertile, waggons, cattle, and provisions of all kinds, were swept off; every thing was taken, even to such of the inhabitants as were necessary to conduct these convoys. Some days after, at the Niemen, the embarrassment of the passage, and the celerity of the first hostile marches, caused all the fruits of these requisitions to be abandoned with an indifference only equalled by the violence with which they had been seized.

The importance of the object, however, was such as might excuse the irregularity of these proceedings. That object was to surprise the Russian army, either collected or dispersed; in short, to make a coup-de-main with 400,000 men. War, the worst of all scourges, would thus have been shortened in its duration. Our long and heavy baggage-waggons would have encumbered our march. It was much more convenient to live on the supplies of the country, as we should be able to indemnify the loss afterwards. But superfluous wrong was committed as well as necessary wrong, for who can stop midway in the commission of evil? What chief could be responsible for the crowd of officers and soldiers who were scattered through the country in order to collect its resources? To whom were complaints to be addressed? Who was to punish? All was done in the course of a rapid march; there was neither time to try, nor even to find out the guilty. Between the affair of the day before, and that of the following day, how many others had sprung up! for at that time the business of a month was crowded into a single day.

Moreover, some of the leaders set the example; there was a positive emulation in evil. In that respect, many of our allies surpassed the French. We were their teachers in every thing; but in copying our qualities, they caricatured our defects. Their gross and brutal plunder was perfectly revolting.

But the emperor was desirous to have order kept in the middle of disorder. Pressed by the accusing reproaches of two allied nations, two names were more especially distinguished by his indignation. In his letters are found these words; "I have suspended generals —— and ——. I have suppressed the brigade ——; I have cashiered it in the face of the army, that is to say, of Europe.—I have written to ——, informing him that he ran great risks of being broke, if he did not take care." Some days after he met this ——, at the head of his troops, and still indignant, he called to him, "You disgrace yourself; you set the example of plunder. Be silent, or go back to your father; I do not want your services any further."

From Thorn, Napoleon descended the Vistula. Graudentz belonged to Prussia; he avoided passing it; but as that fortress was important to the safety of the army, an officer of artillery and some fireworkers were sent thither, with the ostensible motive of making cartridges; the real motive remained a secret; the Prussian garrison, however, was numerous, and stood on its guard, and the emperor, who had proceeded onward, thought no more of it.

It was at Marienburg that the emperor again met Davoust. That marshal, whether through pride, natural or acquired, was not well pleased to recognize as his leader any other individual than the master of Europe. His character, besides, was despotic, obstinate, and tenacious; and as little inclined to yield to circumstances as to men. In 1809, Berthier was his commander for some days, during which Davoust gained a battle, and saved the army, by disobeying him. Hence arose a terrible hatred between them: during the peace it augmented, but secretly; for they lived at a wide distance from each other, Berthier at Paris, Davoust at Hamburgh; but this Russian war again brought them together.

Berthier was getting enfeebled. Ever since 1805, war had become completely odious to him. His talent especially lay in his activity and his memory. He could receive and transmit, at all hours of the day and night, the most multiplied intelligence and orders; but on this occasion he had conceived himself entitled to give orders himself. These orders displeased Davoust. Their first interview was a scene of violent altercation; it occurred at Marienburg, where the emperor had just arrived, and in his presence.

Davoust expressed himself harshly, and even went so far as to accuse Berthier of incapacity or treachery. They both threatened each other, and when Berthier was gone, Napoleon, influenced by the naturally suspicious character of the marshal, exclaimed, "It sometimes happens that I entertain doubts of the fidelity of my oldest companions in arms; but at such times my head turns round with chagrin, and I do my utmost to banish so heart-rending a suspicion."

While Davoust was probably enjoying the dangerous pleasure of having humbled his enemy, the emperor proceeded to Dantzic, and Berthier, stung by resentment, followed him there. From that time, the zeal, the glory of Davoust, the exertions he had made for this new expedition, all that ought to have availed him, began to be looked upon unfavourably. The emperor had written to him "that as the war was about to be carried into a barren territory, where the enemy would destroy every thing, it was requisite to prepare for such a state of things, by providing every thing within ourselves:" Davoust had replied to this by an enumeration of his preparations—"He had 70,000 men, who were completely organized; they carried with them twenty-five days' provisions. Each company comprised swimmers, masons, bakers, tailors, shoemakers, armourers, and workmen of every class. They carried every thing they required with them; his army was like a colony; hand-mills followed. He had anticipated every want; all means of supplying them were ready."

Such great exertions ought to have pleased; they, however, displeased; they were misrepresented. Insidious observations were overheard by the emperor. "This marshal," said they to him, "wishes to have it thought that he has foreseen, arranged, and executed every thing. Is the emperor, then, to be no more than a spectator of this expedition? Must the glory of it devolve on Davoust?"—"In fact," exclaimed the emperor, "one would think it was he that commanded the army."

They even went further, and awakened some of his dormant fears: "Was it not Davoust who, after the victory of Jena, drew the emperor into Poland? Is it not he who is now anxious for this new Polish war?—He who already possesses such large property in that country, whose accurate and severe probity has won over the Poles, and who is suspected of aspiring to their throne?"

It is not easy to say whether the pride of Napoleon was shocked by seeing that of his lieutenants encroaching so much on his own; or whether, in the course of this irregular war, he felt himself thwarted more and more by the methodical genius of Davoust; certain it is, the unfavourable impression against him struck deeper; it was productive of fatal consequences; it removed from his confidence a bold, tenacious and prudent warrior, and favoured his predilection for Murat, whose rashness was much more flattering to his ambitious hopes. In other respects, these dissensions between his great officers did not displease Napoleon; they gave him information; their harmony would have made him uneasy.

From Dantzic the emperor proceeded, on the 12th of June, to Koenigsberg. At that place ended the inspection of his immense magazines, and of the second resting-point and pivot of his line of operations. Immense quantities of provisions, adequate to the immensity of the undertaking, were there accumulated. No detail had been neglected. The active and impassioned genius of Napoleon was then entirely directed towards that most important and difficult department of his expedition. In that he was profuse of exhortations, orders, and even money, of which his letters are a proof. His days were occupied in dictating instructions on that subject; at night he frequently rose to repeat them again. One general received, on a single day, six despatches from him, all distinguished by the same solicitude.

In one, these words were remarked, "For masses like these, if precautions be not taken, the grain of no country can suffice." In another, "It will be requisite for all the provision-waggons to be loaded with flour, bread, rice, vegetables, and brandy, besides what is necessary for the hospital service. The result of all my movements will assemble 400,000 men on a single point. There will be nothing then to expect from the country, and it will be necessary to have every thing within ourselves." But, on the one hand, the means of transport were badly calculated; and, on the other, he allowed himself to be hurried on as soon as he was put in motion.



CHAP. III.

From Koenigsberg to Gumbinnen, he reviewed several of his armies; conversing with the soldiers in a gay, frank, and often abrupt style; well aware that, with such unsophisticated and hardy characters, abruptness is looked upon as frankness, rudeness as force, haughtiness as true nobility; and that the delicacy and graces which some officers bring with them from the salons are in their eyes no better than weakness and pusillanimity; that these appear to them like a foreign language, which they do not understand, and the accents of which strike them as ridiculous.

According to his usual custom, he promenaded before the ranks. Knowing in which of his wars each regiment had been with him, at the sight of the oldest soldiers he occasionally halted; to one he recalled the battle of the Pyramids; another he reminded of Marengo, Austerlitz, Jena, or Friedland, and always by a single word, accompanied by a familiar caress. The veteran who believed himself personally recognized by his emperor, rose in consequence in the estimation of his junior companions, who regarded him as an object of envy.

Napoleon, in this manner, continued his inspection; he overlooked not even the youngest soldiers: it seemed as if every thing which concerned them was to him matter of deep interest; their least wants seemed known to him. He interrogated them: Did their captains take care of them? had they received their pay? were they in want of any requisite? he wished to see their knapsacks.

At length he stopped at the centre of the regiment; there being apprised of the places that were vacant, he required aloud the names of the most meritorious in the ranks; he called those who were so designated before him, and questioned them. How many years' service? how many campaigns? what wounds? what exploits? He then appointed them officers, and caused them to be immediately installed, himself prescribing the forms;—all particularities which delighted the soldier! They told each other how this great emperor, the judge of nations in the mass, occupied himself with them in their minutest details; that they composed his oldest and his real family! Thus it was that he instilled into them the love of war, of glory and himself.

The army, meantime, marched from the Vistula to the Niemen. This last river, from Grodno as far as Kowno, runs parallel with the Vistula. The river Pregel, which unites the two, was loaded with provisions: 220,000 men repaired thither from four different points; there they found bread and some foraging provisions. These provisions ascended that river with them, as far as its direction would allow.

When the army was obliged to quit the flotilla, its select corps took with them sufficient provisions to reach and cross the Niemen, to prepare for a victory, and to arrive at Wilna. There, the emperor calculated on the magazines of the inhabitants, on those of the enemy and on his own, which he had ordered to be brought from Dantzic, by the Frischhaff, the Pregel, the Deine, the canal Frederic, and the Vilia.

We were upon the verge of the Russian frontier; from right to left, or from south to north, the army was disposed in the following manner, in front of the Niemen. In the first place, on the extreme right, and issuing from Gallicia, on Drogiczin, Prince Schwartzenberg and 34,000 Austrians; on their left, coming from Warsaw, and marching on Bialystok and Grodno, the King of Westphalia, at the head of 79,200 Westphalians, Saxons, and Poles; by the side of them was the Viceroy of Italy, who had just effected the junction, near Marienpol and Pilony, of 79,500 Bavarians, Italians and French; next, the emperor, with 220,000 men, commanded by the King of Naples, the Prince of Eckmuehl, the Dukes of Dantzic, Istria, Reggio, and Elchingen. They advanced from Thorn, Marienwerder, and Elbing, and, on the 23d of June, had assembled in a single mass near Nogarisky, a league above Kowno. Finally, in front of Tilsit, was Macdonald, and 32,500 Prussians, Bavarians, and Poles, composing the extreme left of the grand army.

Every thing was now ready. From the banks of the Guadalquivir, and the shores of the Calabrian sea, to the Vistula, were assembled 617,000 men, of whom 480,000 were already present; one siege and six bridge equipages, thousands of provision-waggons, innumerable herds of oxen, 1372 pieces of cannon, and thousands of artillery and hospital-waggons, had been directed, assembled, and stationed at a short distance from the Russian frontier river. The greatest part of the provision-waggons were alone behind.

Sixty thousand Austrians, Prussians, and Spaniards, were preparing to shed their blood for the conqueror of Wagram, of Jena, and of Madrid; for the man who had four times beaten down the power of Austria, who had humbled Prussia, and invaded Spain. And yet all were faithful to him. When it was considered that one-third of the army of Napoleon was either foreign to him or hostile, one hardly knew at which most to be astonished,—the audacity of one party, or the resignation of the other. It was in this manner that Rome made her conquests contribute to her future means for conquering.

As to us Frenchmen, he found us all full of ardour. Habit, curiosity, and the pleasure of exhibiting themselves in the character of masters in new countries, actuated the soldiers; vanity was the great stimulant of the younger ones, who thirsted to acquire some glory which they might recount, with the attractive quackery peculiar to soldiers; these inflated and pompous narratives of their exploits being moreover indispensable to their relaxation when no longer under arms. To this must certainly be added, the hope of plunder; for the exacting ambition of Napoleon had as often disgusted his soldiers, as the disorders of the latter tarnished his glory. A compromise was necessary: ever since 1805, there was a sort of mutual understanding, on his part to wink at their plunder—on theirs, to suffer his ambition.

This plunder, however, or rather, this marauding system, was generally confined to provisions, which, in default of supplies, were exacted of the inhabitants, but often too extravagantly. The most culpable plunderers were the stragglers, who are always numerous in frequent forced marches. These disorders, indeed, were never tolerated. In order to repress them, Napoleon left gendarmes and flying columns on the track of the army; and when these stragglers subsequently rejoined their corps, their knapsacks were examined by their officers; or, as was the case at Austerlitz, by their comrades; and strict justice was then executed among themselves.

The last levies were certainly too young and too feeble; but the army had still a stock of brave and experienced men, used to critical situations, and whom nothing could intimidate. They were recognizable at the first glance by their martial countenances, and by their conversation; they had no other past nor future but war; and they could talk of nothing else. Their officers were worthy of them, or at least were becoming so; for, in order to preserve the due authority of their rank over such men, it was necessary for them to have wounds to show, and to be able to appeal to their own exploits.

Such was, at that period, the life of those men; all was action within its sphere, even to words. They often boasted too much, but even that had its advantage; for as they were incessantly put to the proof, it was then necessary for them to be what they wished to appear. Such especially is the character of the Poles; they boast in the first instance of being more than they have been, but not more than they are capable of being. Poland in fact is a nation of heroes! pawning their words for exploits beyond the truth, but subsequently redeeming them with honour, in order to verify what at first was neither true nor even probable.

As to the old generals, some of them were no longer the hardy and simple warriors of the republic; honours, hard service, age, and the emperor particularly, had contributed to soften many of them down. Napoleon compelled them to adopt a luxurious style of living by his example and his orders; according to him, it was a means of influencing the multitude. It might be also, that such habits prevented them from accumulating property, which might have made them independent; for, being himself the source of riches, he was glad to to keep up the necessity of repairing to it, and in this manner to bring them back within his influence. He had, therefore, pushed his generals into a circle from which it was difficult to escape; forcing them to pass incessantly from want to prodigality, and from prodigality to want, which he alone was able to relieve.

Several had nothing but their appointments, which accustomed them to an ease of living with which they could no longer dispense. If he made them grants of land, it was out of his conquests, which were exposed to insecurity by war, and which war only could preserve.

But in order to retain them in dependence, glory, which with some was a habit, with others a passion, with all a want, was the all-sufficient stimulant; and Napoleon, absolute master as he was of his own century, and even dictating to history, was the distributor of that glory. Though he fixed it at a high price, there was no rejecting his conditions; one would have felt ashamed to confess one's weakness in presence of his strength, and to stop short before a man whose ambition was still mounting, great as was the elevation which he had already attained.

Besides, the renown of so great an expedition was full of charm; its success seemed certain; it promised to be nothing but a military march to Petersburgh and Moscow. With this last effort his wars would probably be terminated. It was a last opportunity, which one would repent to have let escape; one would be annoyed by the glorious narratives which others would give of it. The victory of to-day would make that of yesterday so old! And who would wish to grow old with it?

And then, when war was kindled in all quarters, how was it possible to avoid it? The scenes of action were not indifferent; here Napoleon would command in person; elsewhere, though the cause might be the same, the contest would be carried on under a different commander. The renown shared with the latter would be foreign to Napoleon, on whom, nevertheless, depended glory, fortune, every thing; and it was well known, whether from preference or policy, that he was only profuse in his favours to those whose glory was identified with his glory; and that he rewarded less generously such exploits as were not his. It was requisite, therefore, to serve in the army which he commanded; hence the anxiety of young and old to fill its ranks. What chief had ever before so many means of power? There was no hope which he could not flatter, excite, or satiate.

Finally, we loved him as the companion of our labours; as the chief who had conducted us to renown. The astonishment and admiration which he inspired flattered our self-love; for all these we shared in common with him.

With respect to that youthful elite, which in those times of glory filled our camps, its enthusiasm was natural. Who is there amongst us who, in his early years, has not been fired by the perusal of the warlike exploits of the ancients and of our ancestors? Should we not have all desired, at that time, to be the heroes whose real or fictitious history we were perusing? During that state of enthusiasm, if those recollections had been suddenly realized before us; if our eyes, instead of reading, had witnessed the performance of those wonders; if we had felt their sphere of action within our reach, and if employments had been offered to us by the side of those brave paladins, whose adventurous lives and brilliant renown our young and vivid imaginations had so much envied; which of us would have hesitated? Who is there that would not have rushed forward, replete with joy and hope, and disdaining an odious and scandalous repose?

Such were the rising generations of that day. At that period every one was free to be ambitious! a period of intoxication and prosperity, during which the French soldier, lord of all things by victory, considered himself greater than the nobleman, or even the sovereign, whose states he traversed! To him it appeared as if the kings of Europe only reigned by permission of his chief and of his arms.

Thus it was that habit attracted some, disgust at camp service others; novelty prompted the greater part, and especially the thirst of glory: but all were stimulated by emulation. In fine, confidence in a chief who had been always fortunate, and hope of an early victory, which would terminate the war at a blow, and restore us to our firesides; for a war, to the entire army of Napoleon (as it was to some volunteers of the court of Louis XIV.) was often no more than a single battle, or a short and brilliant journey.

We were now about to reach the extremity of Europe, where never European army had been before! We were about to erect new columns of Hercules. The grandeur of the enterprise; the agitation of co-operating Europe; the imposing spectacle of an army of 400,000 foot and 80,000 horse: so many warlike reports and martial clamours, kindled the minds of veterans themselves. It was impossible for the coldest to remain unmoved amid the general impulse; to escape from the universal attraction.

In conclusion;—independent of all these motives for animation, the composition of the army was good, and every good army is desirous of war.



BOOK IV.



CHAPTER I.

Napoleon, satisfied with his preparations, at length declared himself. "Soldiers," said he, "the second Polish war is commenced. The first was concluded at Friedland and at Tilsit. At Tilsit, Russia swore eternal alliance with France, and war with England. She now violates her oaths. She will give no explanation of her capricious conduct, until the French eagles have repassed the Rhine; by that means leaving our allies at her mercy. Russia is hurried away by fatality; her destiny must be accomplished. Does she then believe us to be degenerated? Are we not still the soldiers of Austerlitz? She places us between war and dishonour; the choice cannot be doubtful. Let us advance, then; let us pass the Niemen, and carry the war into her territory! The second Polish war will be as glorious for the French arms as the first; but the peace we shall this time conclude will carry with it its own guarantee; it will put an end to the fatal influence which Russia for the last fifty years has exercised over the affairs of Europe."