rations would say of each, "He was in that
great battle under the walls of Moscow." Next morning a courier
arrived, bringing a portrait of the little King of Rome. The Emperor
hung it before his tent, and invited his officers to admire it. But at
night the sinister news of Marmont's defeat at Salamanca arrived.
Napoleon said nothing, but was heard in self-communing to deplore the
barbarity of war. All night he seemed restless, fearing lest the
Russians should elude him as they had in other crises; but, rising at
five, and discerning their lines, he called aloud: "They are ours at
last! March on; let us open the gates of Moscow."

The Russians, roused by religious fervor, and elevated by a fatalistic
premonition of success, had thrown up trenches and redoubts at
advantageous points on their chosen battle-fields. In their first
onset they advanced like devotees, with the cry, "God have mercy upon
us!" and, as each forward rank went down before the relentless
invaders, those behind pressed onward over the bodies of their
comrades. But it was all in vain; throughout the fourth and fifth of
September one outpost after another was taken, until at ten in the
evening of the latter day the whole Russian force was thrown back on
its main position, stretching from the bank of the Moskwa on the
north, behind the Kalatscha, as far as Utizy on the south, such
portions as were not naturally sheltered being protected by strong
redoubts. There were a hundred and twenty thousand in all, of which
about seventeen thousand were ununiformed peasantry. Opposite stood
the French, Poniatowski on the right, Davout, with the guard, in the
rear, then Eugene; behind Davout, to the left, Ney; and farther
behind, in the same line, Junot. The orders were for an opening
cannonade, Poniatowski to surround the Russian left, Eugene to cross
the Kalatscha by three bridges thrown over during the night, and
attack the Russian right, while Morand and Gerard, his auxiliaries,
should move on the center, and storm the defenses erected there.

The battle was conducted almost to the letter of these orders, but
such was Russian valor that, instead of being a brilliant manoeuver,
it developed into a bloody face-to-face conflict, determined by sheer
force. At six in the morning the artillery opened. Poniatowski
advanced, was checked, but, supported by Ney, stood firm until Junot
came in; they two then stood together, while Ney and Davout dashed at
the enemy's cente