of Russia; and lastly, to open a safe,
short, new, and virgin retreat to Smolensk and Lithuania.

Some one proposed to return upon Wittgenstein and Witepsk. Napoleon was
undecided between all these plans. That for the conquest of Petersburg
alone flattered him: the others appeared but as ways of retreat, as
acknowledgments of error; and whether from pride, or policy which will
not admit itself to be in the wrong, he rejected them.

Besides, where was he to stop in a retreat? He had so fully calculated
on concluding a peace at Moscow, that he had no winter quarters provided
in Lithuania. Kalouga had no temptations for him. Wherefore lay waste
fresh provinces? It would be wiser to threaten them, and leave the
Russians something to lose, in order to induce them to conclude a peace
by which it might be preserved. Would it be possible to march to another
battle, to fresh conquests, without exposing a line of operation,
covered with sick, stragglers, wounded and convoys of all sorts? Moscow
was the general rallying point; how could it be changed? What other name
would have any attraction?

Lastly, and above all, how relinquish a hope to which he had made so
many sacrifices, when he knew that his letter to Alexander had just
passed the Russian advanced posts; when eight days would be sufficient
for receiving an answer so ardently desired; when he wanted that time to
rally and re-organize his army, to collect the relics of Moscow, the
conflagration of which had but too strongly sanctioned pillage, and to
draw his soldiers from that vast infirmary!

Scarcely indeed a third of that army and of that capital now existed.
But himself and the Kremlin were still standing: his renown was still
entire, and he persuaded himself that those two great names, Napoleon
and Moscow, combined, would be sufficient to accomplish every thing. He
determined, therefore, to return to the Kremlin, which a battalion of
his guard had unfortunately preserved.

CHAP. VIII.

The camps which he traversed on his way thither presented an
extraordinary sight. In the fields, amidst thick and cold mud, large
fires were kept up with mahogany furniture, windows, and gilded doors.
Around these fires, on a litter of damp straw, imperfectly sheltered by
a few boards, were seen the soldiers, and their officers, splashed all
over with mud, and blackened with smoke, seated in arm-chairs or
reclined on silken couches. At their feet were spread or heaped Cas