The

Here,

a mixture, a confusion of chaises, ammunition-wagons, handsome carriages, and vehicles of every kind. Here, trophies of Russian, Turkish, and Persian colours, and the gigantic cross of Ivan the Great; there, long-bearded Russian peasants, carrying or driving along our booty, of which they constituted a part; others dragging even wheelbarrows, filled with whatever they could remove. fools were not likely to proceed in this manner till the conclusion of the first day; but their senseless avidity made them think nothing of battles, and a march of eight hundred leagues. Among these army-followers were men of all nations, without uniform and without arms, and servants swearing in every language, and urging, by dint of shouts and blows, the progress of elegant carriages, drawn by pigmy horses harnessed with ropes. They were filled with provisions, or with the booty saved from the flames. They carried also Frenchwomen, with their children, formerly happy inhabitants of Moscow, but who had now fled from the hatred of the Muscovites.' And now began that retreat which will ever remain one of the most dreadful chapters in the bloody annals of war. On the 22d of October the emperor had fixed his quarters at Borovsk. though the distance was ten leagues from Moscow, was distinctly heard the sound of the tremendous explosion in which, by Napoleon's orders, left to be executed by the rearguard of his army, the Kremlin was blown up. Next day took place the terrible battle of Malo-Jaroslavitz, fought between the advanced portion of the French forces under Prince Eugène, and a Russian army under Doctoroff. The French were victorious; but this battle had been one of the most desperate ever fought; and on the 25th, when Napoleon entered the town where it took place, and from which it derives its name, the scene which presented itself shocked even his accustomed eye. The lines of the streets could no longer be distinguished, on account of the number of corpses heaped up in them, many of them with their heads crushed by the wheels of the cannon which had passed over them. These, and the smoking ruins, and the blood-stained walls, and the moanings of poor wounded wretches crawling along, and the doleful sound of the funeral march accompanying the burial of the slain officers, testified how obstinate the engagement had been. The victory of MaloJaroslavitz only shewed Napoleon the desperate position he was in, and made him more eager to retreat. He was particularly anxious to reach Smolensk before the winter should have set in with severity: here he hoped to find plenty of everything of which the army stood in need, and the retreat beyond that point would be easier. There were three routes to Smolensk, each of which was attended with its peculiar difficulties. Napoleon chose that by Mojaisk, and the field of his former bloody battle of Borodino.

On the 28th of October the army reached Mojaisk, leaving a track of ruin and devastation behind it, and fronting a desert

equally horrible. 'The fields,' says Labaume, 'trampled down by thousands of horses, seemed as though they had never been cultivated. The forests, cleared by the long continuance of the troops, partook likewise of the general desolation. But most horrible was the multitude of dead bodies, which, deprived of burial for fifty-two days, scarcely retained the human form. As we traversed the fields of Borodino, my consternation was inexpressible when I found the forty thousand men who had perished there yet lying exposed. The whole plain was entirely covered with them. None of the bodies were more than half-buried. In one place were to be seen garments yet red with blood, and bones gnawed by dogs and birds of prey; in another were broken arms, drums, trumpets, and helmets. Continuing our march through the plain, we heard at a distance a feeble voice appealing to us for succour. Touched by his plaintive cries, some soldiers approached the spot, and, to their astonishment, saw a French soldier stretched on the ground, with both his legs broken. "I was wounded,” said he, “on the day of the great battle. I fainted from the agony I endured, and, on recovering my senses, I found myself in a desolate place, where no one could hear my cries, or afford me relief. For two months I daily dragged myself to the brink of a rivulet, where I fed on the grass and roots, and some morsels of bread which I found among the dead bodies. At night I laid myself down under the shelter of some dead horses. To-day, seeing you at a distance, I summoned all my strength, and happily crawled sufficiently near your route to make my voice heard." The poor wretch was placed in a carriage, and carried along with the army.

From Mojaisk the army retreated to Gshatsk, and thence to Viazma, the emperor marching some distance in advance, and Prince Eugène and Marshal Davout bringing up the rear. The sufferings of the men, especially those in the divisions of Prince Eugène and Davout, were increased during this march by the severity of the weather, which, although the sky still continued clear, had become piercingly cold, and foreboded the coming on of the snow-season. Starvation, cold, and the attacks of the Russians, especially the Cossacks, who hovered on the retreat like birds of prey, thinned the army so much, that when the rear reached Viazma, it became necessary to reorganise it, adding the broken regiments together, so as to form new ones. Smolensk was now the goal of all hopes. The order of march from Viazma to Smolensk was as follows: Napoleon left Viazma on the 1st of November; Prince Eugène and Davout, who were a day or two behind, left it on the 4th, fighting their way through the Russians, who by this time had arrived at the town, and were occupying the roads in its neighbourhood; and, by the directions of Napoleon, Marshal Ney remained last of all, to bear the brunt of the enemy's attacks, and protect the rest of the army during their retreat. Ney was also instructed to retreat as slowly

as possible, in order to afford time for the rest not only to arrive at Smolensk, but also to repose in that town for a few days after their fatigues. Thus it will be seen that the post of danger and honour belonged to Ney. The rest of the army had to contend with famine and cold; but he had to contend, in addition, with the pursuing Russians to retreat step by step, and in as dilatory a manner as possible.

It

The march from Viazma to Smolensk was a terrible one for the whole army, but especially for the rear divisions. On the 6th of November, while the most advanced were still two or three days' march from the long-wished-for Smolensk, the winter came on. came on suddenly, like a true Russian winter. The clear blue sky disappeared; the sun, the luminary of Napoleon's fancied destiny, was no longer seen; thick cold fogs descended, rolling and whirling, from the heavens; bitter sleety blasts swept along the earth; and at length the snow came down in large flakes, darkening the atmosphere, and enclosing the bewildered traveller as he walked. The whole aspect of nature was changed: objects around altered their appearance, at first from the effect of the ghastly fogs which preceded the storm, and afterwards from the effects of the snow, which covered the earth, the trees, the hills, and undulations of the ground with its white mantle. Driven into chasms and hollows, it accumulated there in wreaths, cheating many poor shivering wretches, who, stumbling in, were engulfed in the snow, and made no efforts to rise again. Many perished in these snow-pits. Leaving these to their fate, the others pushed on through the drifting storm. Soon their garments, after being wet through, began to freeze and stiffen on their bodies; their limbs became benumbed and powerless; their very breath was congealed as it issued from their mouths, and hung in icicles from their beards. On and on they staggered, as if by a mechanical effort of perseverance, growing weaker and weaker at every step. At last, when sense and feeling were almost extinct, a stone, a piece of slippery ice, a branch of a tree, would trip them up, and, falling to the ground, they would lie there, unable to rise, and in a few minutes they would be covered with a little snow tumulus. To one turning his head to look back, the road, covered with these white hillocks, seemed like a churchyard in a snowy day. All order was at an end among the survivors. Muskets were dropped among the snow, or fell from the frozen fingers which carried them; soldiers left their ranks, officers their companies; and all wandered on, caring for nothing, and thinking of nothing, but self. Some would straggle off into by-paths, hoping to reach some shelter. These uniformly fell into the hands of the Cossacks, who either killed them at once, or stripped them naked, and left them to perish in the snow. Night at last came, to vary and increase the horrors of the day. Halting to bivouac, the first care of all was to kindle a fire. Wagons, and everything which could be used as fuel, were

broken up; and after a flame had been with difficulty kindled, crowds would gather round it, thawing their garments and limbs, and eating their repast of raw and bloody horse-flesh. Hundreds, falling asleep by the enormous fires which they had kindled, never awoke. Such as survived the night, had again to undergo the miseries of the day -to stagger on through the snow, to rush eagerly upon a fallen horse to secure part of its flesh, to see their companions fall at every step, to hear the croaking of crows overhead, and the howling of dogs devouring the corpses behind them-and thus for day after night, for night after day, until Smolensk could be reached.

Some of course suffered less during this retreat than others; Napoleon's own division suffered less than that of Prince Eugène; and Prince Eugène's, again, less than that of Ney. Ney's conduct during the retreat was heroic. Instructed to protract his march as long as possible, to afford the rest of the army time to recruit at Smolensk, he obeyed his orders by literally fighting for ten whole days between Viazma and Smolensk. It was on the 9th of November when Napoleon reached the latter town-his long-looked-for haven of safety. Alas! Smolensk was by no means the termination of their misfortunes! Napoleon had calculated on finding there fifteen days' provisions and forage for an army of a hundred thousand men; instead of which he found a quantity of flour, rice, and spirits, not sufficient for fifty thousand, and no meat of any kind. The operations of the Cossacks, and the activity of several Russian generals whom he had left in his rear on his advance to Moscow, occasioned this defalcation. In the distribution, too, of what provisions there were, fresh sufferings arose. Those who reached Smolensk first being a host of stragglers, without order and without officers, received no supplies till they were reorganised, or till the regular troops came up; and many died in the interval, besieging the doors of the magazines where the flour was lodged. When the regular troops did arrive, only a few could obtain baked bread. To the rest were distributed rye-flour, vegetables, and spirits, for which they fought and scrambled in the streets. Refusing to carry the supplies to their regiments, the wretched men would tear open the sacks at the doors of the magazines, snatch a few pounds of flour, and as much spirits as they could obtain, and then rush away to gorge themselves in some secret place. Next day the dead bodies of many of these unfortunate wretches were found in the streets and in the houses. As it was the 14th of November before all the army reached Smolensk, those who came last, and who stood most in need of refreshment, fared worst. The brave Ney and his men were regaled with what the others had left.

On the 19th of October, when the French army left Moscow, it consisted of 100,000 fighting men, an immense cavalcade of unarmed stragglers, together with an enormous train of artillery and baggage. When the whole wreck of the troops was collected at Smolensk, it

appeared that there remained only 36,000 fighting men, with strag glers, baggage, and artillery reduced in proportion. In other words, nearly two-thirds of the army had perished in twenty-five days. What a carnage! And what a prospect for the survivors, who had still so many dangers before them!

The next stage of the retreat was from Smolensk to Orcha, a distance of five days' march. Napoleon again marched first, quitting Smolensk on the 14th of November. Prince Eugène and Davout were to follow at a day's interval. Ney was instructed, as before, to bring up the rear, leaving Smolensk on the 16th or 17th. The whole country between the two towns was occupied by Russian armies under Kutusoff, Milaradowitch, and others; and through these the various divisions of the retreating army had successively to fight their way. It is impossible for any but a military pen to do justice to the retreat from Smolensk to Orcha, or to describe the desperate battles that were fought within so short a space of time. Suffice it to say, that again Ney was the hero of the march. When the rest, escaping from their own difficulties, had arrived at Orcha, they waited anxiously for the marshal's appearance; but after several days, during which no intelligence was received of him, they gave him up for lost. At length, on the evening of the 20th, he reached Orcha with his brave little band. When Napoleon, who was a league or two in advance, heard that the marshal had made his appearance, he leaped and shouted for joy, and cried out that he had saved his eagles, and that he would sooner have suffered any other loss than that of such a man. Leaving Smolensk on the 17th, he had been obliged to pursue a new route, to avoid being cut off; and after three days of incessant fighting, during which every manœuvre which the most extraordinary military genius could suggest was put in practice, he had been able to save his army. One anecdote of his march will shew the terrible condition to which the poor fugitives were reduced. At the gates of Smolensk, says Segur, 'a mother had abandoned her little son, only five years old. In spite of his cries and tears, she had driven him away from her sledge, which was too heavily laden. She herself cried out, with a distracted air, "that he had never seen France-that he would not regret it: as for her, she knew France; she was resolved to see France once more." Twice did Ney himself replace the unfortunate child in the arms of his mother: twice did she cast him

off into the frozen snow. This solitary crime, amidst a thousand instances of the most sublime and devoted tenderness, they did not leave unpunished. The unnatural mother was abandoned to the same snow from which her infant was snatched, and intrusted to another mother. This little orphan was exhibited in their ranks; and he survived all the horrors of the retreat.'

On the 25th of November, the whole army, reduced now to about twenty-eight thousand fighting men and forty thousand stragglers,