The suspension of hostilities lasted thirty-six hours, and while Murat was inhaling the incense which the cunning Russian lavished on him, Kutusoff's army by a roundabout march, concealed behind a barrier of low hills, escaped the danger, passed Hollabrunn, and took up a strong position by which the road to Moravia was opened to it, and its retreat, as well as its junction with the other Russian army, posted between Znaym and Brunn, was assured. Napoleon was then at the palace of Schönbrunn. He fell into a great rage on learning that Murat had let himself be taken in by Prince Bagration, and had ventured to accept an armistice without orders, and directed him to attack Kutusoff forthwith. But the Russians had changed their position very much for the better, and gave the French a vigorous reception. The fight was of the most obstinate nature, but at length the town of Hollabrunn, captured and recaptured several times, set on fire by shells, filled with dead and dying, remained in possession of the French. The Russians retired on Brunn; our troops followed and occupied that town without fighting, though it was fortified and commanded by the celebrated citadel of Spielberg.

The Russian armies and part of the remains of the Austrian troops being assembled in Moravia, the Emperor, in order to strike a final blow, proceeded to Brunn. My comrade Massy and I followed him in that direction, but we got along slowly and with much difficulty; first, because the post-horses were on their last legs, and further, by reason of the great quantity of troops, guns, artillery and baggage waggons which cumbered the roads. We were obliged to wait twenty-four hours at Hollabrunn, until the way was cleared through its streets destroyed by the fire, and still full of burning planks, beams, and fragments of furniture. This unlucky town had been so completely burnt that we could not find a single house to take shelter in. During our compulsory stay in the place we were appalled by a horrible spectacle. The wounded, especially the Russians, had during the fight taken refuge in the houses, where they were soon overtaken by the fire. At the approach of this new danger all who were able to move had fled; but many, wounded in the legs or otherwise severely injured, had been burnt alive under the ruins. Some had endeavoured to escape by crawling on the ground, but the fire had pursued them into the streets, and one might see thousands of the poor fellows half reduced to ashes; some of them were even yet breathing. The corpses of men and horses killed in the fight had also been roasted, so that from the unhappy town of Hollabrunn emanated a horrible and sickening odour of roasted flesh, perceptible at some leagues' distance.

There are districts and towns so situated as to be constantly the scene of battles, and Hollabrunn, which offers an excellent military position, is one of them. Thus it hardly repaired the mischief caused by the fire of 1805 when I saw it four years later, again burnt, and again piled with dead and dying men in a half-roasted state, as I shall have to tell when I relate the campaign of 1809.

Major Massy and I left this focus of disease as soon as we could, and reached Znaym, where four years afterwards I was to be wounded. Finally, we came up with the Emperor at Brunn on November 22, ten days before the battle of Austerlitz. The day after our arrival we discharged our commission and handed over the flags with the ceremonial prescribed by the Emperor for occasions of the kind, for he never lost any opportunity of exalting in the eyes of the troops whatever would stimulate their passion for glory. The ceremony was as follows. Half an hour before the parade, which took place at eleven o'clock each day in front of the Emperor's quarters, General Duroc, the grand marshal, sent to our lodging a company of grenadiers of the guard with their band and drums. The seventeen colours and two standards were placed in the hands of as many sergeants. Major Massy and I, preceded by an orderly officer, placed ourselves at the head of the procession, which set out with band playing. The town was full of French troops, and as we passed the soldiers cheered loudly in honour of the victory gained by their comrades of the 7th corps. All the sentries saluted, and as we entered the court of the house where the Emperor lodged, the bands played a march, the troops assembled for parade, presented arms and enthusiastically shouted 'Vive l'Empereur!'

The orderly aide-de-camp came forward to receive us, and presented us to the Emperor, together with the sergeants who carried the Austrian flags. The Emperor inspected the various trophies, and after having dismissed the sergeants, he questioned us freely, both with regard to the battle which Augereau had fought, and upon our observations during the long journey which we had just made through the countries which had been the seat of war. Then he bade us await his orders and follow the imperial head-quarters. Marshal Duroc gave us, as was customary, a receipt for the flags, then informed us that horses would be placed at our disposal, and invited us during our stay to take our seats at the table where he presided.

The Grand Army was at this time massed around and in front of Brunn; the advanced guard of the Allies occupied Austerlitz, the main body being posted around the town of Olmütz, where the Emperor Alexander and the Emperor of Austria were together. A battle seemed inevitable, but both sides so well understood how vast an influence this result must have on the destinies of Europe that each hesitated to make any decisive movement. Therefore, Napoleon, usually so prompt in his movements, remained eleven days at Brunn before attacking seriously. It is true that every day's delay increased his forces, as soldiers continued to arrive in great numbers who had fallen to the rear on account of illness or fatigue, but as soon as they recovered their strength hastened to rejoin the army, eager to take part in the great battle which they knew was coming. This reminds me that, in this connection, out of good nature, I told a lie which might have ruined my military career. It happened thus. The Emperor used as a rule to treat his officers with kindness, but there was one point on which he was, perhaps, over severe. He held the colonels responsible for maintaining a full complement of men in the ranks of their regiments, and as that is precisely what is most difficult to achieve on a campaign, it was just on this point that the Emperor was most often deceived. The corps commanders were so afraid of displeasing him that they exposed themselves to the risk of being set to fight a number of enemies out of proportion to the strength of their troops, rather than admit that illness, fatigue, and the necessity of procuring food had compelled many of the soldiers to fall to the rear. Thus Napoleon, for all his power, never knew accurately the number of combatants which he had at his disposal on the day of battle.

Now it befell that, while we were staying at Brunn, the Emperor, on one of the rounds which he was incessantly making to visit the positions of the different divisions, noticed the mounted chasseurs of his guard marching to take up new lines. He was particularly fond of this regiment the nucleus of which was formed by his guides of Italy and Egypt. His trained eye could judge very correctly the strength of a column, and finding this one very short of its number, he took a little note-book from his pocket, and, after consulting it, sent for General Morland, colonel of the mounted chasseurs of the guard, and said to him in a severe tone, 'The strength of your regiment is entered on my notes at 1,200 combatants, and, although you have not yet been engaged with the enemy, you have not more than 800 troopers there. What has become of the rest?' General Morland, at fighting an excellent and very brave officer, but not gifted with the faculty of ready reply, was taken aback, and answered in his Alsatian French that only a very small number of men were missing. The Emperor maintained that there were close upon 400 short, and to clear the matter up he determined to have them counted on the spot; but knowing that Morland was much liked by his staff, and being afraid of what their good nature might do, he thought it would be safer if he took an officer who belonged neither to his household nor to the guard, and, catching sight of me, he ordered me to count the chasseurs, and to come and report their numbers to him in person. Having said this, he galloped off. I began my operation, which was all the more easy that the troopers were marching at a walk, and in fours.

Poor General Morland, who knew how nearly correct Napoleon's calculation had been, was in great distress, for he foresaw that my report would draw down upon him a severe reprimand. He hardly knew me, and did not propose that I should run into any risk in order to spare him unpleasantness. He remained, therefore, in silence by my side, until, fortunately for him, his staff adjutant came up. This officer, Fournier by name, had begun his military career as assistant-surgeon, afterwards becoming surgeon-major, when, feeling that his vocation was more for the sabre than for the lancet, he had requested and obtained permission to take his place among the combatant officers, and Morland, with whom he had served in former days, had got him a commission in the guard. I had known Captain Fournier very well when he was still surgeon-major; I had, indeed, been under great obligation to him, for not only had he attended my father at the moment when he was wounded, but had followed him to Genoa, where, as long as his life lasted, he came several times a day to look after him. If the doctors whose duty it was to fight the typhus had been as attentive and as zealous as Fournier, my father would, perhaps, not have died. So I had often said to myself, and thus my greeting of Fournier, whom at first I did not recognise in the pelisse of a captain of chasseurs, was of the most friendly kind. General Morland, seeing the pleasure with which we met, conceived the hope of profiting by our mutual friendship to induce me not to tell the Emperor how many of his men had fallen out. He took his adjutant aside and conferred a moment with him. Then the captain came and entreated me in the name of our old friendship to save General Morland from a very awkward position, by concealing from the Emperor the extent to which the effective strength of his regiment had been reduced. I refused positively, and continued my counting. The Emperor's estimate had been very correct, for there were only just over 800 men present, so that 400 were missing.

I was going off to make my report when General Morland and Captain Fournier pressed me anew, calling my attention to the fact that the greater part of the absent men, having fallen out for various causes, would shortly rejoin, and that, as it was probable that the Emperor would not give battle before he had brought up the divisions of Friant and Gudin, who were still thirty-six leagues away at the gates of Vienna, several days would elapse, during which the chasseurs who had remained behind would rejoin the colours. They added that the Emperor was, besides, too busy to verify my report. I did not conceal from myself that I was being asked to deceive the Emperor, which was a serious business; but I also felt that I had a great debt of gratitude to M. Fournier for the really affectionate care which he had bestowed on my dying father. So I allowed myself to be over-persuaded, and promised to dissemble a great part of the truth.

Hardly was I alone when I perceived the enormity of my fault, but it was too late. The important thing was to get out of it with as little harm as possible. To this end I took care not to reappear before the Emperor while he was on horseback for my danger was lest he should go off to the chasseurs' bivouac, when their numerical weakness would strike him again and belie my report, which would have brought me into very great trouble. I was wily, therefore, and did not return to the Imperial head-quarters till after nightfall, when Napoleon had dismounted and returned to his apartments. I was taken in, and found him lying at full length on an immense map spread on the floor. As soon as he saw me he called out, 'Well, Marbot, how many mounted chasseurs are there present in my guard? Are there 1,200 of them, as Morland declares?' 'No, sir, I only counted 1,120, that is to say, 80 short.' 'I was quite sure that there were a great many missing.' The tone in which the Emperor pronounced these last words proved that he expected a much larger deficit; and, indeed, if there had been only 80 men missing in a regiment of 1,200, which had just marched 500 leagues in winter, sleeping almost every night in the open air, it would have been very little. So, when the Emperor on his way to dinner crossed the room where the commanders of the guard were assembled, he merely said to Morland, 'You see now you've got 80 chasseurs missing; it is nearly a squadron. With eighty of these fellows one might stop a Russian regiment. You must keep a tight hand to stop the men from falling out.' Then, passing on to the commander of the foot grenadiers, whose effective strength had also been much weakened, Napoleon reprimanded him severely. Morland, deeming himself very fortunate in getting off with a few remarks, came up to me as soon as the Emperor was at table, and thanked me warmly, telling me that some thirty chasseurs had just rejoined, and that a messenger arriving from Vienna had fallen in with more than a hundred between Znaym and Brunn, and a good many more this side of Hollabrunn, so that he was certain that within forty-eight hours the regiment would have recovered most of its losses. I was quite as anxious for it as he, for I understood the difficulty in which I had been placed by my excess of gratitude towards Fournier. Such was my dread of the just wrath of the Emperor, whose confidence I had so gravely abused, that I could not sleep all night.

My perplexity was still greater the next day, when Napoleon, during his customary visit to the troops, went towards the bivouac of the chasseurs, for a mere question addressed to an officer might have revealed everything. I was, therefore, giving myself up for lost, when I heard the bands in the Russian encampment on the heights of Pratzen, half a league from our outposts; therefore, riding towards the head of the numerous staff accompanying the Emperor, among whom I was, I got as near to him as I could, and said in a loud voice, 'There must surely be some movement going on in the enemy's camp, for there is their band playing marches.' The Emperor heard my remark, abruptly quitted the path leading to the guards' bivouac, and went towards Pratzen to observe what was going on in the enemy's advanced guard. He remained a long time watching, and at the approach of night he returned to Brunn without going to see his chasseurs. Thus I remained several days in mortal anxiety, although I heard of the successive return of sundry detachments. Finally, the battle being at hand, and the Emperor being very busy, the idea of making the verification which I had so much dreaded passed out of his thoughts, but I had had a good lesson. So when I became colonel, and the Emperor questioned me on the number of combatants present in the squadrons of my regiment, I always told the exact truth.