His Majesty’s countenance was sad and careworn, nevertheless he slept from sheer weariness for many hours.  I awoke him to announce the arrival of M. de Rumigny, who was the bearer of dispatches from Chatillon.  In the condition of the Emperor’s mind at this moment he seemed ready to accept any reasonable conditions which might be offered him; therefore I admit I hoped (in which many joined me) that we were approaching the moment when we should obtain the peace which we so ardently desired.  The Emperor received M. de Rumigny without witnesses, and the interview lasted a long while.  Nothing transpired of what had been said, and it occurred to me that this mystery argued nothing good.  The next day early M. de Rumigny returned to Chatillon, where the Duke of Vicenza awaited him; and from the few words his Majesty uttered as he mounted his horse to return to his advance posts, it was easy to see that he had not yet resigned himself to the idea of making a peace which he regarded as dishonorable.

While the Duke of Vicenza was at Chatillon or Lusigny for the purpose of treating for a peace, the orders of the Emperor delayed or hastened the conclusion of the treaty according to his successes or repulses.  On the appearance of a ray of hope he demanded more than they were willing to grant, imitating in this respect the example which the allied sovereigns had set him, whose requirements since the armistice of Dresden increased in proportion as they advanced towards France.  At last everything was finally broken off, and the Duke of Vicenza rejoined his Majesty at Saint-Dizier.  I was in a small room so near his sleeping-room that I could not avoid hearing their conversation.  The Duke of Vicenza earnestly besought the Emperor to accede to the proposed conditions, saying that they were reasonable now, but later would no longer be so.  As the Duke of Vicenza still returned to the charge, arguing against the Emperor’s postponing his positive decision, his Majesty burst out vehemently, “You are a Russian, Caulaincourt!”—­“No, Sire,” replied the duke with spirit, “no; I am a Frenchman!  I think that I have proved this by urging your Majesty to make peace.”

The discussion thus continued with much warmth in terms which unfortunately I cannot recall.  But I remember well that every time the Duke of Vicenza insisted and endeavored to make his Majesty appreciate the reasons on account of which peace had become indispensable, the Emperor replied, “If I gain a battle, as I am sure of doing, I will be in a situation to exact the most favorable conditions.  The grave of the Russians is under the walls of Paris!  My measures are all taken, and victory cannot fail.”

After this conversation, which lasted more than an hour, and in which the Duke of Vicenza was entirely unsuccessful, he left his Majesty’s room, and rapidly crossed the saloon where I was; and I remarked as he passed that his countenance showed marks of agitation, and that, overcome by his deep emotion, great tears rolled from his eyes.  Doubtless he was deeply wounded by what the Emperor had said to him of his partiality for Russia; and whatever may have been the cause, from that day I never saw the Duke of Vicenza except at Fontainebleau.