But while he was still full of hopes and expectations, Belliard, tired of this uncertainty, ordered a few horse to follow him; he drove a band of Cossacks into the Dnieper, above the town, and saw on the opposite bank the road from Smolensk to Moscow covered with artillery, and troops on the march.  There was no longer any doubt that the Russians were in full retreat.  The emperor was apprised that he must renounce all hopes of a battle, but that his cannon might, from the opposite bank, annoy the retrograde march of the enemy.

Belliard even proposed to send part of the army across the river, to cut off the retreat of the Russian rear-guard, which was entrusted with the defence of Smolensk; but the party of cavalry sent to discover a ford went two leagues without finding one, and drowned several horses.  There was nevertheless a wide and commodious crossing about a league above the city.  Napoleon himself, in his agitation, turned his horse that way.  He proceeded several wersts in that direction, tired himself, and returned.

From that moment he seemed to consider Smolensk as a mere place of passage, of which it was absolutely necessary to gain possession by main force, and without loss of time.  But Murat, prudent when not heated by the presence of the enemy, and who, with his cavalry, had nothing to do in an assault, disapproved of this resolution.

To him so violent an effort appeared useless, when the Russians were retiring of their own accord; and in regard to the plan of overtaking them, he observed that, “since they would not fight, we had followed them far enough, and it was high time to stop.”

The emperor replied:  but the rest of their conversation was not overheard.  As, however, the king afterwards declared that “he had thrown himself at the knees of his brother, and conjured him to stop, but that Napoleon saw nothing but Moscow; that honour, glory, rest, every thing for him was there; that this Moscow would be our ruin!”—­it was obvious what had been the cause of their disagreement.

So much is certain, that when Murat quitted his brother-in-law, his face wore the expression of deep chagrin; his motions were abrupt; a gloomy and concentrated vehemence agitated him; and the name of Moscow several times escaped his lips.

Not far off, on the left bank of the Dnieper, a formidable battery had been placed, at the spot whence Belliard had perceived the retreat of the enemy.  The Russians had opposed to us two still more formidable.  Every moment our guns were shattered, and our ammunition-waggons blown up.  It was into the midst of this volcano that the king urged his horse:  there he stopped, alighted, and remained motionless.  Belliard warned him that he was sacrificing his life to no purpose, and without glory.  The king answered only by pushing on still farther.  Those around him no longer doubted, that despairing of the issue of the war, and foreseeing future disasters, he was seeking death in order to escape them.  Belliard, however, insisted, and observed to him, that his temerity would be the destruction of those about him.  “Well then,” replied Murat, “do you retire, and leave me here by myself.”  All refused to leave him; when the king angrily turning about, tore himself from this scene of carnage, like a man who is suffering violence.