an entire chapter to our itinerary from Paris to
Moscow.

A short time before the battle of La Moskwa, a man was brought to the
camp dressed in the Russian uniform, but speaking French; at least his
language was a singular mixture of French and Russian. This man had
escaped secretly from the enemy's lines; and when he perceived that our
soldiers were only a short distance from him, had thrown his gun on the
ground, crying in a very strong Russian accent, "I am French," and our
soldiers had at once taken him prisoner.

Never was prisoner more charmed with his change of abode. This poor
fellow, who seemed to have been forced to take arms against his will in
the service of the enemies of his country, arrived at the French
camp, called himself the happiest of men in finding again his
fellow-countrymen, and pressed the hand of all the soldiers with an
ardor which delighted them. He was brought to the Emperor, and appeared
much over-awed at finding himself in the presence of the King of the
French, as he called his Majesty. The Emperor questioned him closely,
and in his reply he declared that the noise of the French cannon had
always made his heart beat; and that he had feared only one thing, which
was that he might be killed by his compatriots. From what he told the
Emperor it appeared that he belonged to that numerous class of men who
find themselves transplanted by their family to a foreign land, without
really knowing the cause of their emigration. His father had pursued at
Moscow an unremunerative industrial profession, and had died leaving him
without resources for the future, and, in order to earn his bread, he
had become a soldier. He said that the Russian military discipline was
one of his strongest incentives to desert, adding that he had strong
arms and a brave heart, and would serve in the French army if the
general permitted. His frankness pleased the Emperor, and he endeavored
to obtain from him some positive information on the state of the public
mind at Moscow; and ascertained from his revelations, more or less
intelligent, that there was much disturbance in that ancient capital.

He said that in the street could be heard cries of, "No more of Barclay!

[Prince Michael Barclay de Tolly, born in Livonia, 1755, of
Scottish extraction; distinguished himself in wars against Sweden,
Turkey, and Poland, 1788 and 1794, and against the French, 1806;
commanded Russian army against Napoleon in 1812, unti