Marshal Davoust appeared abstracted; and the Emperor said to him, “At least say something, Marshal.”  There had been for some time a little coolness between him and the Emperor, and his Majesty reproached him with the rarity of his visits, but he could not dissipate the cloud which darkened every brow; for the Emperor’s secret had not been as well kept as he had hoped.  After supper the Emperor ordered Prince Eugene to read the twenty-ninth bulletin, and spoke freely of his plan, saying that his departure was essential in order to send help to the army.  He gave his orders to the marshals, all of whom appeared sad and discouraged.  It was ten o’clock when the Emperor, saying it was time to take some repose, embraced all the marshals and retired.  He felt the need of withdrawing; for he had been oppressed by the constraint of this interview, as could easily be seen by the extreme agitation his countenance manifested at its close.  About half an hour after, the Emperor called me into his room and said, “Constant, I am about to leave; I thought I should be able to take you with me, but I have taken into consideration the fact that several carriages would attract attention; it is essential that I experience no delay, and I have given orders that you are to set out immediately upon the return of my horses, and you will consequently follow me at a short distance.”  I was suffering greatly from my old malady; hence the Emperor would not allow me to go with him on the boot as I requested, in order that he should receive his customary attentions from me.  He said, “No, Constant, you will follow me in a carriage, and I hope that you will be able to arrive not more than a day behind me.”  He departed with the Duke of Vicenza, and Roustan on the box; my carriage was unharnessed, and I remained to my great regret.  The Emperor left in the night.

By daybreak the army had learned the news, and the impression it made cannot be depicted.  Discouragement was at its height; and many soldiers cursed the Emperor, and reproached him for abandoning them.  There was universal indignation.  The Prince of Neuchatel was very uneasy, and asked news of every one, though he would naturally have been the first to receive any information.  He feared lest Napoleon, who had a feeble escort, should be made prisoner by the Cossacks, who, if they had learned his departure, would make the greatest efforts to carry him off.

This night, the 6th, the cold increased greatly; and its severity may be imagined, as birds were found on the ground frozen stiff with the cold.  Soldiers who had seated themselves with their head in their hands, and bodies bent forward in order to thus feel less the emptiness of their stomachs, were found dead in this position.  As we breathed, the vapor from our lips froze on our eyebrows, little white icicles formed on the mustaches and beards of the soldiers; and in order to melt them they warmed their chins by the bivouac fire, and as may be imagined a large number did not do this with impunity.  Artillerymen held their hands to the horses’ nostrils to get a little warmth from the strong breathing of these animals.  Their flesh was the usual food of the soldiers.  Large slices of this meat were thrown on the coals; and when frozen by the cold, it was carried without spoiling, like salted bacon, the powder from the cartridge-boxes taking the place of salt.