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A
beatific
smile
of
regret
,
repentance
,
and
ecstasy
beamed
on
M.
de
Beausset
's
face
and
he
glided
away
to
the
other
generals
.
Napoleon
was
experiencing
a
feeling
of
depression
like
that
of
an
ever-lucky
gambler
who
,
after
recklessly
flinging
money
about
and
always
winning
,
suddenly
just
when
he
has
calculated
all
the
chances
of
the
game
,
finds
that
the
more
he
considers
his
play
the
more
surely
he
loses
.
His
troops
were
the
same
,
his
generals
the
same
,
the
same
preparations
had
been
made
,
the
same
dispositions
,
and
the
same
proclamation
courte
et
énergique
,
he
himself
was
still
the
same
:
he
knew
that
and
knew
that
he
was
now
even
more
experienced
and
skillful
than
before
.
Even
the
enemy
was
the
same
as
at
Austerlitz
and
Friedland
--
yet
the
terrible
stroke
of
his
arm
had
supernaturally
become
impotent
.
All
the
old
methods
that
had
been
unfailingly
crowned
with
success
:
the
concentration
of
batteries
on
one
point
,
an
attack
by
reserves
to
break
the
enemy
's
line
,
and
a
cavalry
attack
by
"
the
men
of
iron
,
"
all
these
methods
had
already
been
employed
,
yet
not
only
was
there
no
victory
,
but
from
all
sides
came
the
same
news
of
generals
killed
and
wounded
,
of
reinforcements
needed
,
of
the
impossibility
of
driving
back
the
Russians
,
and
of
disorganization
among
his
own
troops
.
Formerly
,
after
he
had
given
two
or
three
orders
and
uttered
a
few
phrases
,
marshals
and
adjutants
had
come
galloping
up
with
congratulations
and
happy
faces
,
announcing
the
trophies
taken
,
the
corps
of
prisoners
,
bundles
of
enemy
eagles
and
standards
,
cannon
and
stores
,
and
Murat
had
only
begged
leave
to
loose
the
cavalry
to
gather
in
the
baggage
wagons
.
So
it
had
been
at
Lodi
,
Marengo
,
Arcola
,
Jena
,
Austerlitz
,
Wagram
,
and
so
on
.
But
now
something
strange
was
happening
to
his
troops
.
Despite
news
of
the
capture
of
the
flèches
,
Napoleon
saw
that
this
was
not
the
same
,
not
at
all
the
same
,
as
what
had
happened
in
his
former
battles
.
He
saw
that
what
he
was
feeling
was
felt
by
all
the
men
about
him
experienced
in
the
art
of
war
.
All
their
faces
looked
dejected
,
and
they
all
shunned
one
another
's
eyes
--
only
a
de
Beausset
could
fail
to
grasp
the
meaning
of
what
was
happening
.
But
Napoleon
with
his
long
experience
of
war
well
knew
the
meaning
of
a
battle
not
gained
by
the
attacking
side
in
eight
hours
,
after
all
efforts
had
been
expended
.
He
knew
that
it
was
a
lost
battle
and
that
the
least
accident
might
now
--
with
the
fight
balanced
on
such
a
strained
center
--
destroy
him
and
his
army
.
When
he
ran
his
mind
over
the
whole
of
this
strange
Russian
campaign
in
which
not
one
battle
had
been
won
,
and
in
which
not
a
flag
,
or
cannon
,
or
army
corps
had
been
captured
in
two
months
,
when
he
looked
at
the
concealed
depression
on
the
faces
around
him
and
heard
reports
of
the
Russians
still
holding
their
ground
--
a
terrible
feeling
like
a
nightmare
took
possession
of
him
,
and
all
the
unlucky
accidents
that
might
destroy
him
occurred
to
his
mind
.
The
Russians
might
fall
on
his
left
wing
,
might
break
through
his
center
,
he
himself
might
be
killed
by
a
stray
cannon
ball
.
All
this
was
possible
.
In
former
battles
he
had
only
considered
the
possibilities
of
success
,
but
now
innumerable
unlucky
chances
presented
themselves
,
and
he
expected
them
all
.
Yes
,
it
was
like
a
dream
in
which
a
man
fancies
that
a
ruffian
is
coming
to
attack
him
,
and
raises
his
arm
to
strike
that
ruffian
a
terrible
blow
which
he
knows
should
annihilate
him
,
but
then
feels
that
his
arm
drops
powerless
and
limp
like
a
rag
,
and
the
horror
of
unavoidable
destruction
seizes
him
in
his
helplessness
.
The
news
that
the
Russians
were
attacking
the
left
flank
of
the
French
army
aroused
that
horror
in
Napoleon
.
He
sat
silently
on
a
campstool
below
the
knoll
,
with
head
bowed
and
elbows
on
his
knees
.
Berthier
approached
and
suggested
that
they
should
ride
along
the
line
to
ascertain
the
position
of
affairs
.
"
What
?
What
do
you
say
?
"
asked
Napoleon
.
"
Yes
,
tell
them
to
bring
me
my
horse
.
"
