the fall of burning timbers, and of the red-hot iron roofs which tumbled around him. The flames, which with impetuous roar consumed the edifices between which we were proceeding, spreading beyond the walls, were blown about by the wind, and formed an arch over our heads. We walked on a ground of fire, beneath a fiery sky, and between two walls of fire. The intense heat burned our eyes, which we were nevertheless obliged to keep open, and fixed on the danger. A consuming atmosphere, glowing ashes, detached flames, parched our throats, and rendered our respiration short and dry; and we were already almost suffocated with the smoke.' At length the emperor and his attendants were extricated from the labyrinth of burning edifices, and were able to make their way to Petersköe.

This was on the evening of the 16th. The conflagration, however, raged till the 20th, when it ended, having lasted in all six days. During these six days, says Dr Lyall, in his History of Moscow, 'innumerable palaces, crowds of noble mansions, and thousands of houses, bazaars, shops, and warehouses, containing the wealth and luxuries of the world, the depositories of science, of literature, and taste, the cabinets and galleries, were destroyed. The total loss by fire and the war in the city and government of Moscow was estimated at 321,000,000 roubles'-about £50,000,000 sterling. On the 20th, Napoleon returned to Moscow, and again took up his residence in the Kremlin, which, owing to the exertions of the troops after his departure, had escaped with little damage. The description given by eye-witnesses of the appearance of the city and its suburbs, now that the fire was over, is horrible in the extreme. Strict orders had at first been issued to refrain from pillage; but these had been at last withdrawn, and thousands of persons of all descriptions— French and Russians, officers and privates, men of respectable character and the lowest dregs of the population, the refuse of the Russian jails-had for several days been going about through the streets, breaking open shops, and ransacking houses, in quest of such goods or movables as had escaped the fire. There had been no order or regularity; all had been excess and brutal indulgence. On the road from Petersköe to Moscow, the most strange and disgusting scenes met the eyes of the emperor-large blazing bonfires, in which the fuel consisted of mahogany furniture and gilded doors; around these, officers and soldiers, splashed and bedaubed with mud and dirt, lying on silken couches, or sitting in fine arm-chairs, their feet resting on Siberian furs, Cashmere shawls, or Persian gold cloth; gold and silver plates in their hands, from which they were ravenously eating huge pieces of half-broiled horseflesh. Round every one of these little groups were gathered crowds of Russian citizens, trying in some cases to recover part of their own property, in others to pillage their neighbours, but many of them tempted merely by the fires which the French had kindled,

and the horse-flesh which they were eating. Entering the suburbs of the city, the scenes which offended the eye and the other senses were still more painfully disgusting. Everywhere heaps of ashes, and fragments of stone and iron, blocked up the path; and the air was filled with an indescribable stench, rising from such a smouldering chaos of lime, bricks, wood, dead bodies, and all the heterogeneous mass of materials which the imagination can conceive to be lodged in a great city. In the gardens, of which there are a great number in the suburbs of Moscow, wretched and gaunt-looking Russians, of both sexes—some with scarcely a rag to cover them, others clad in furs and rich pelisses-were seen scraping the soil with their nails, in search of roots or herbs; or fighting with each other for the thigh-bone of a horse which had been left behind by the French. On the banks of the river, crowds were devouring handfuls of raw and sour corn, which they had fished up from the water, out of a large quantity which had been sunk by the orders of Rostopchine. Penetrating farther into the city, the spectator was met by still more striking disorder: soldiers were seated on bales of rich merchandise, on mountains of sugar and coffee, and surrounded by barrels of luscious wines and costly liqueurs, which they were dealing out in exchange for bread, meat, or gold. Round these auctioneers reeled crowds of intoxicated purchasers; and not far off, half-covered by heaps of ashes, might be seen the corpses of poor wretches, most of them Russians, who, in a similar state of intoxication, had fallen victims to the fire.

The return of Napoleon put a stop to many of these scenes of disorder. The indiscriminate pillage was ordered to cease; regiments were appointed in turn to collect the property which remained; the churches and other public buildings were evacuated by the cavalry, who had taken shelter in them; the principal streets were cleared; and directions were issued to secure the Russian stragglers, who still loitered in the town and its suburbs. It was too late, however, to put this last order into execution, as most of the Russians, on learning the emperor's return, had abandoned Moscow, and fled into the country. Nor was it possible to repair the losses caused by the indiscriminate pillage of the last six days. Quantities of provisions, which, if judiciously taken care of, would have proved a welcome addition to the army stores, had been irretrievably squandered by the thoughtless soldiers who had obtained possession of them. But the uproar and confusion caused by the fire were such, that even the best-disciplined army could not have been kept in check, or obliged to obey orders.

If the desertion of Moscow by its inhabitants was a circumstance for which Napoleon was totally unprepared, the burning of the city, we may well conceive, was a still greater astonishment to him. Here he was in the centre of Russia, in the city of Moscow, in the palace of the czars: this had long been the goal of his hopes; and

yet all his anticipations of the consequences of such an event were disappointed. He was still as far as ever from the conquest of Russia; and should the inhabitants continue to manifest the same spirit of resistance which had prompted them to set fire to their capital rather than submit, he might march from town to town, and yet approach no nearer the end of his expedition. Besides, a Russian winter was coming on; and how would he be able to make good his quarters in the midst of an inhospitable population, willing to destroy their stores of provisions, rather than contribute them to the support of the invader? Perplexed with these anxieties, Napoleon still cherished the hope that the czar would submit and come to terms: accordingly, he waited at Moscow in expectation of Alexander's reply to the letter which he had despatched on the 15th. The French emperor, however, had miscalculated the firmness of his rival; had, like the rest of Europe up to this moment, given him credit for less strength of character than he possessed. No pusillanimous dejection !' was Alexander's address to his subjects when he learned the destruction of Moscow; 'let us vow redoubled courage and perseverance! The enemy is in deserted Moscow as in a tomb, without means of domination, or even of existence. He entered Russia with 300,000 men, of all countries, without union, or any national or religious bond: he has lost half of them by the sword, famine, and desertion. He has but the wreck of this army in Moscow. He is in the heart of Russia, and not a single Russian at his feet. Meanwhile, our forces are increasing, and enclosing him. He is in the midst of a mighty population-encompassed by armies which are waiting for and keeping him in check. To escape famine, he will soon be obliged to direct his flight through the close ranks of our brave soldiers. Shall we then recede when all Europe is looking on and encouraging us?'

In the meantime, while Napoleon was waiting in Moscow, Murat and part of his army were in pursuit of the Russian general Kutusoff. Several engagements took place between the wary Russian and the chivalrous king of Naples; decisive, however, of nothing, except the obstinacy of the Russians. Napoleon became daily more weary of this protracted warfare, more sensible of the dangers of his position, more anxious to bring the czar to sue for peace. His plans were undecided. At one time it seemed to be his intention to remain at Moscow through the winter; and, in conformity with this design, or possibly merely as a feint to deceive the Russians, an intendant and municipal magistracy were appointed for the city; a theatre was erected amid the ruins; first-rate actors were sent for from Paris; and an Italian singer commenced giving entertainments in the Kremlin. At another time, Napoleon would, in one of his vaunting moods, propose to his assembled generals to march to St Petersburg-a project which a few words of common sense from any of their number were sufficient to put aside. The only other

course which could be adopted in the circumstances, was one from which Napoleon revolted, and which no one durst yet openly propose to him-it was to retreat. The necessity of deciding upon something became more and more evident. What quantity of provisions had been saved from the pillage of Moscow was soon exhausted; and the army, quartered through the city, was dependent on the success of parties of cavalry sent to procure forage in the district around. Soon all the stock in the neighbourhood of the city was eaten up, and it became necessary for these parties to extend their foraging expeditions to a greater distance, where, in addition to other difficulties, they had to contend, while pursuing their labour of pillage, with the enraged peasantry and with bands of roving Cossacks. Our cattle,' says Labaume, 'perished for want of forage. Our real miseries were disguised by an apparent abundance. We had neither bread nor meat; yet our tables were covered with sweetmeats, syrups, and dainties. Coffee, and every kind of wine, served in crystal or china vases, convinced us that luxury might be nearly allied to poverty. The extent and the nature of our wants rendered money of little value to us, and this gave rise to an exchange, rather than a sale of commodities. Those who had cloth offered it for wine; and he who had a pelisse could procure plenty of sugar and coffee.' In addition to their present sufferings, the French were haunted by the dread of the Russian winter, of whose horrors they had heard, but could as yet form only a vague and undefined conception. In the meetings between Murat's soldiers and the Russians, during occasional moments of truce, the latter would tell them that the winter was at hand; that indeed it should have, in the natural course of things, already commenced: that within a fortnight their nails would drop off, and their arms fall out of their benumbed and half-dead fingers; that their graves would be the snows of Russia.

Still Napoleon would not decide upon a retreat; still he hoped that the czar would yield. His calculations were founded on the conviction that the occupation of Moscow, even in its deserted state, was too great a blow for the nation to survive. Millions of money,' he said, 'have no doubt slipped through our hands in consequence of the burning of Moscow; but how many millions is Russia losing! Her commerce is ruined for a century to come. The nation is thrown back fifty years: this of itself is an important result. When the first moment of enthusiasm is past, this reflection will fill them with consternation.' The soldiers, for the moment, caught the tone of the emperor, and endeavoured to please him, by assuming, as well as they could, the outward appearance of a conquering and still highspirited army. Poor fellows!-with hungry stomachs, with tattered uniforms, with their toes projecting through their torn shoes-they would do their best to furbish themselves up, so as to appear clean and smart at a review; and at the sight, in front of their ranks, of the fat little man-in obedience to whose views or whims it was

that they had left their homes eight hundred leagues away, and come hither to live on horse-flesh, and blow their fellow-men out of the world-they would still make the air ring with cries of 'Vive l'Empereur.'

All Napoleon's efforts to induce the czar to sue for peace failed; a letter which he had despatched to Kutusoff on the 6th October, had produced no result. The alternative now pressed upon him—to retreat out of Russia, or to winter in Moscow. There were not wanting among his officers men who advised the latter course. Let them make themselves as comfortable as possible, they said, in the city; let them make every effort to procure provisions, by sweeping the neighbouring country; to lessen the consumption of forage, and increase the supply of food, let all the spare horses be salted down and barreled. With these preparations, they would be able to defy the Russian winter, and wait patiently for the arrival of spring. Strange picture!-an army shut up for a winter in a ruined and smoke-blackened city, amusing themselves with balls, operas, and theatricals, and living meanwhile on salted horse-flesh! Napoleon, however, could not bring himself to entertain the idea of wintering in Moscow; his thoughts were in Paris, from which he had, for some time, received no communication-the despatches having been intercepted in passing through such an extent of hostile territory. What might not happen in Europe during his absence! Might not some revolution occur, which would be taken advantage of for his ruin by his foreign allies or his discontented subjects? And on his return to Paris might he not find himself no longer an emperor?

RETREAT FROM MOSCOW.

With feelings of the deepest humiliation, yet maintaining his accustomed bravado and pretension, Napoleon determined on retreating from Moscow; and a battle fought between Kutusoff and Murat in the environs of the city, shewed him that there was no time to lose. The order to march was issued to the French troops on the 18th of October—a month and four days after their triumphant entry into the capital. Let us march upon Kaluga,' he said; and woe be to those I meet by the way!' On the 19th the army quitted Moscow, on its way to Kaluga. It consisted of 100,000 fighting men, with a number of sick; for, anxious to give his retreat as little the appearance of a confession of defeat as possible, Napoleon had caused all the hospitals to be evacuated, and only such of the sick as could not be shifted, amounting to about 1200 men, to be left in Moscow. Following the army, there was a long procession of attendants and baggage-bearers, resembling the hordes which we read of in ancient history as accompanying barbarian armies on their return from successful invasions. 'It consisted,' says Segur, 'of three or four files of infinite length, in which there was