Never was there a more keenly-contested field. It was snowing heavily when the first shells began to plough the opposing ranks. In a single charge nearly half the men in Augereau’s corps were annihilated, and their commander wounded. Davout returned the compliment, and was on the point of succeeding when the Russians received reinforcements and compelled him to fall back. Ney, who had duly arrived, and Murat, were more successful, but at the end of eighteen hours’ fighting it was difficult to tell who had secured the advantage. Napoleon frankly confessed that it was quite possible he might have retreated, but when the next morning dawned, leaden and sullen, it was found that the Russians had disappeared, leaving him in possession of the field. On the 14th, Napoleon wrote to the Empress: “The country is covered with the dead and the wounded. This is not the pleasant part of war,” while to his brother Joseph, he related some of the hardships of the campaign. “The officers of the staff,” he says, “have not undressed for two months, many not for four months. I myself have not taken off my boots for a fortnight. We are in the midst of snow and mud, without wine, brandy, or bread. We have nothing but potatoes to eat; we make long marches and counter-marches--no pleasant experience. We have to fight with the bayonet under a tremendous fire of grape, the wounded have then to be carried back 150 miles in open sleighs.” An incident which occurred at this period exemplifies very clearly how Napoleon could rebuke an officer and show at the same time that he had not forfeited his trust in him. It should be added that the Emperor did not always deal so leniently with a subordinate as he did with this particular individual. One evening a bundle of despatches was delivered to Napoleon. “Surely these despatches have been a long time on their way!” he remarked to his attendant. “How is this? Tell the orderly officer who brought them that I wish to speak to him.” The officer entered, mud-bespattered and obviously ill at ease. “Sir,” said the Emperor, “at what hour were these despatches placed in your hands?” “At eight o’clock in the evening, sire.” “And how many leagues had you to ride?” “I do not know precisely, sire.” “But you ought to know, sir. An orderly officer ought to know _that_. I know it. You had twenty-seven miles to ride, and you set off at eight o’clock. Look at your watch, sir. What o’clock is it, now?” “Half-past twelve, sire. The roads were in a terrible state. In some places the snow obstructed my passage----” “Poor excuses, sir--poor excuses. Retire, and await my orders.” As the door closed behind the unfortunate messenger, whose unhappy frame of mind it is not difficult to realise, Napoleon remarked, “This cool, leisurely gentleman wants stimulating. The reprimand I have given him will make him spur his horse another time. Let me see--my answer must be delivered in two hours. I have not a moment to lose.”