“The enemy were always beaten, and captured neither an eagle nor a gun from my army. On the 7th of November the cold became intense; all the roads were found impracticable; thirty thousand horses perished between the 7th and the 16th. A portion of our baggage and artillery wagons was broken and abandoned; our soldiers, little accustomed to such weather, could not endure the cold. They wandered from the ranks in quest of shelter for the night, and, having no cavalry to protect them, several thousands fell into the hands of the enemy’s light troops. General Sanson, chief of the topographic corps, was captured by some Cossacks while he was engaged in sketching a position. Other isolated officers shared the same fate. My losses are severe, but the enemy cannot attribute to themselves the honor of having inflicted them. My army has suffered greatly, and suffers still, but this calamity will cease with the cold.” To every one he declared that it was the Russians, not he, who had suffered. It was their great city, not his, which was burnt; their fields, not his, which were devastated. They did not take an eagle, did not win a battle. It was the cold, the Cossacks, which had done the mischief to the Grand Army; and that mischief? Why, it would be soon repaired. “I shall be back on the Nieman in the spring.” But the very man who in public and private calmed and reassured the nation, was sometimes himself so overwhelmed at the thought of the disaster which he had just witnessed, that he let escape a cry which showed that it was only his indomitable will which was carrying him through; that his heart was bleeding. In the midst of a glowing account to the legislative body of his success during the invasion, he suddenly stopped. “In a few nights everything changed. I have suffered great losses. They would have broken my heart if I had been accessible to any other feelings than the interest, the glory, and the future of my people.” [Illustration: THEY GRUMBLED, BUT THEY FOLLOWED ALWAYS. Raffet shows us a Napoleon worn out by the disastrous excess even of his victories, marching under a sad, rainy sky, at the head of his little army, which, although hopeful, decreased daily in numbers after repeated fights—all of them victorious. The legend chosen by the artist sums up the state of mind of these old _grognards_—always discontented, and yet always ready, in spite of wearing fatigue and increasing discouragements, to run even to death on a sign from their emperor. Meissonier meditated long and earnestly before this beautiful picture, inspired by the campaign of France, previous to painting his immortal canvas, “1814.”—A. D.]