Soldiers—­It is a year this very hour since you were on the field of Austerlitz, where the Russian battalions fled in disorder, or surrendered up their arms to their conquerors.  Next day proposals, of peace were talked of; but they were deceptive.  No sooner had the Russians escaped, by perhaps, blamable generosity from the disasters of the third coalition than they contrived a fourth.  But the ally on whose tactics they founded their principal hope was no more.  His capital, his fortresses; his magazines; his arsenals, 280 flags, and 700 field-pieces have fallen into our power.  The Oder, the Wartha, the deserts of Poland, and the inclemency of the season have not for a moment retarded your progress.  You have braved all; surmounted all; every obstacle has fled at your approach.  The Russians have in vain endeavoured to defend the capital of ancient and illustrious Poland.  The French eagle hovers over the Vistula.  The brave and unfortunate Poles, on beholding you, fancied they saw the legions of Sobieski, returning from their memorable expedition.

Soldiers, we will not lay down our arms until a general peace has secured the power of our allies and restored to us our colonies and our freedom of trade.  We have gained on the Elbe and the Oder, Pondicherry, our Indian establishments, the Cape of Good Hope, and the Spanish colonies.  Why should the Russians have the right of opposing destiny and thwarting our just designs?  They and we are still the soldiers who fought at Austerlitz.

Rapp thus describes the entrance of the French into Warsaw, and adds a few anecdotes connected with that event: 

“At length we entered the Polish capital.  The King of Naples had preceded us, and had driven the Russians from the city.  Napoleon was received with enthusiasm.  The Poles thought that the moment of their regeneration had arrived, and that their wishes were fulfilled.  It would be difficult to describe the joy thus evinced, and the respect with which they treated us.  The French troops, however, were not quite so well pleased; they manifested the greatest repugnance to crossing the Vistula.  The idea of want and bad weather had inspired them with the greatest aversion to Poland, and they were inexhaustible, in their jokes on the country.”

When Bonaparte dictated his proclamations—­and how many have I not written from his dictation!—­he was for the moment inspired, and he evinced all the excitement which distinguishes the Italian improvisatori.  To follow him it was necessary to write with inconceivable rapidity.  When I have read over to him what he has dictated I have often known him to smile triumphantly at the effect which he expected any particular phrase would produce.  In general his proclamations turned on three distinct points—­(1) Praising his soldiers for what they had done; (2) pointing out to them what they had yet to do; and (3) abusing his enemies.  The proclamation to which I have just