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Updated: June 24, 2025
Napoleon sat down, toying with his Sevres coffee cup, and motioned Balashev to a chair beside him. Napoleon was in that well-known after-dinner mood which, more than any reasoned cause, makes a man contented with himself and disposed to consider everyone his friend.
"Are the horses ready for the general?" he added, with a slight inclination of his head in reply to Balashev's bow. "Let him have mine, he has a long way to go!" The letter taken by Balashev was the last Napoleon sent to Alexander. Every detail of the interview was communicated to the Russian monarch, and the war began...
After all that Napoleon had said to him those bursts of anger and the last dryly spoken words: "I will detain you no longer, General; you shall receive my letter," Balashev felt convinced that Napoleon would not wish to see him, and would even avoid another meeting with him an insulted envoy especially as he had witnessed his unseemly anger.
Balashev did not do so at once, but continued to advance along the road at a walking pace. The noncommissioned officer frowned and, muttering words of abuse, advanced his horse's chest against Balashev, put his hand to his saber, and shouted rudely at the Russian general, asking: was he deaf that he did not do as he was told? Balashev mentioned who he was.
Napoleon nodded condescendingly, as if to say, "I know it's your duty to say that, but you don't believe it yourself. I have convinced you." When Balashev had ended, Napoleon again took out his snuffbox, sniffed at it, and stamped his foot twice on the floor as a signal.
"On the contrary, Your Majesty," said Balashev, hardly able to remember what had been said to him and following these verbal fireworks with difficulty, "the troops are burning with eagerness..." "I know everything!" Napoleon interrupted him. "I know everything. I know the number of your battalions as exactly as I know my own.
"Not yet!" interposed Napoleon, and, as if fearing to give vent to his feelings, he frowned and nodded slightly as a sign that Balashev might proceed.
Davout glanced at him silently and plainly derived pleasure from the signs of agitation and confusion which appeared on Balashev's face. "You will be treated as is fitting," said he and, putting the packet in his pocket, left the shed. A minute later the marshal's adjutant, de Castres, came in and conducted Balashev to the quarters assigned him.
But in order to begin negotiations, what is demanded of me?" he said, frowning and making an energetic gesture of inquiry with his small white plump hand. "The withdrawal of your army beyond the Niemen, sire," replied Balashev. "The Niemen?" repeated Napoleon. "So now you want me to retire beyond the Niemen only the Niemen?" repeated Napoleon, looking straight at Balashev.
And probably still more perturbed by the fact that he had uttered this obvious falsehood, and that Balashev still stood silently before him in the same attitude of submission to fate, Napoleon abruptly turned round, drew close to Balashev's face, and, gesticulating rapidly and energetically with his white hands, almost shouted: "Know that if you stir up Prussia against me, I'll wipe it off the map of Europe!" he declared, his face pale and distorted by anger, and he struck one of his small hands energetically with the other.
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