die instantly, but that I wish your countrymen to have the satisfaction of beholding such a traitor receive the reward of his crime."

The Baron replied with firmness "Sir, I am no traitor; and as a soldier, I never fear nor shrink from death, let it come in whatever form it may.'

"You, Sir," said Napolean, speaking to Captain Narishkin, "are of a brave family; I know the name well; and I lament to see you have been taken with such a scoundrel as that."

Soon after this conference, in which the true manners of the sans culottes exhibited themselves under the imperial purple, the illustrious prisoners were put together into a caleche, and forwarded, under an escort of gens d'armes, towards Grodno; from that place they were to proceed to Warsaw, and thence the Baron was to be dispatched to Hesse. The fiat of his enemy was to accompany him, and his death would have added another to the list of innocent victims who had been treacherously taken and iniquitously butchered by the commands of the French despot.

The escort had reached the government of Minzk, when, at the skirt of a wood, one of the wheels of the carriage which contained the prisoners gave way. Narishkin, while looking out at the people remedying the accident, observed the points of pikes amid the trees. He instantly aroused the General, and communicated what he had seen. His observation and consequent hopes were true, for immediately some Cossacks presented themselves, and moved forward unobserved by the gens d'armes. Winzingerode put himself for ward in the carriage, and placed himself so that the heroes of the Don saw his imperial star. A glance was sufficient: they charged the escort: a few miutes decided the contest; the French took

refuge in the woods; and the Russian General and his aid-de-camp were in perfect safety in the hands of Colonel Tschernicheff and his brave little band.

The most dreadful enemy Bonaparte experienced in his retreat were the Cossacks, of whom 24 additional regiments had joined Kutusoff by the 24th of October: on every side they hovered round; their attacks were unintermitted, and extremely sudden and impetuous. Scarcely had the French soldiers, worn out by a day's march along broken and deep roads, during which they were constantly obliged to be on the alert, or actually fighting, lain down on the wet and cold ground to obtain a little rest and sleep, when the Cossacks rushed into their camps, and before the men could prepare themselves for resistance or defence, many were killed, all were thrown into confusion and dismay, and their artillery and stores carried off. On the 24th of October the French were most vigorously attacked by Kutusoff. The small town near where the battle was fought, was taken and re-taken eight times: the French indeed fought with desperation; but their strength was at last worn out. The Russians compelled them to retreat, with the loss of 16 pieces of cannon.After this defeat, Bonaparte pushed forward before his army towards Smolensk; and in order to conceal his retreat, he directed several bodies of his troops to take different routes, as if he intended to march round the left wing of the Russians: the imperial guard alone accompanied him in his rapid and disgraceful flight.

On the 1st of November, Platoff, with his Cossacks, overtook the enemy, rushed on them, threw them into confusion, and captured 24 pieces of cannon; two days afterwards they were again attacked and defeated at Viorna by the same

general; the Viceroy of Italy, Davoust, and Ney, were at the head of these divisions: 2000 prisoners were taken, and five pieces of cannon: the whole road was covered with ammunition waggons and dead bodies. At this period the sufferings of the French army are most accurately described in an intercepted letter from the Viceroy of Italy; "These three days of suffering have so broken down the spirit of the soldiers, that I look upon them, at the present moment, as scarcely capable of making any effort whatever. Many of them have died of hunger, or of cold; many others, in desperation, have gone and surrendered themselves to the enemy!" The sufferings of the French, however, were greatly to be increased by hunger, cold, and the Russians. On the 9th of November, the Viceroy of Italy was defeated with the loss of 62 pieces of cannon, 3000 prisoners, and a much larger number killed and wounded.

In the mean while, Wittgenstein was performing his part in the work of destruction and vengeance. On the 1st of November he attacked St. Cyr's corps, which had been strongly reinforced, and completely routed them: after accomplishing this, he marched upon Orsha, so that about the eighth of November there were three large Russian armies on the line of Bonaparte's retreat:-Kutusoff's at Krasnoi-Wittgenstein's at Orsha, and Tchitchagow's at Minsk.

About this time the Russian winter set in with more than its accustomed rigour: hitherto the roads had been only deep and heavy, now they became so excessive slippery that the men could scarcely keep their feet. Hitherto the horses, necessary both for the artillery and for the sustenance of the soldiers, (for they were compelled and glad to feed on horse flesh) had proceeded feebly and

slowly on, or dropped dead only, a few hundreds every day; so that, on the first day of the frost, nearly 30,000 perished. All possibility of carrying forward their artillery was now at an end. The spirits of the soldiers completely deserted them; they crawled on, exposed to the most dreadful cold, exhausted with fatigue and hunger, emaciated and almost naked. The road was literally blocked up with the dead and the dying: they had no power to defend themselves against the Cossacks, who constantly hovered round them: they had no inclination to do it; death to them would have been a blessing: at the sight of the Cossacks they hoped their miseries would soon be terminated; but their enemies were not so merciful as to put them to death; piercing them with wounds, stripping the little covering they had, they left them on the snow, there bleeding and naked, to the rigours of a Russian winter.

Whenever the French entered any village, where there was the least chance of repose or food, they exerted their little remaining strength, and crawled on their hands and feet to seek it. Frequently, just as they had stretched out their hands to seize a little food, or reached the threshold of a wretched hut, under which they looked for shelter from the weather, perhaps for a few minutes of sleep, the remnant of their strength failed them, and they expired.

With what feelings and sentiments did they now regard Bonaparte! no longer the adored general, who seemed to have chained victory to his car, to be more than mortal, and to be destined to render all Europe subservient to the interests and glory of France; they cursed him as the author of all their misery under which they were writhing; on his person they willingly would have inflicted venge

ance; but sensible of their indignation, he had called round his person his principal officers, mounted on almost the only horses that remained. For some time he rode in a coach, till the dreadful voice of his soldiers commanded him to walk, as they did, and to share their fatigues: he still, however, defended himself from the inclemency of the weather with a cloak. "Off with your cloak," was another stern command, that he dared not disobey. Such was the situation-such the feelings of the French army, during their dreadful retreat, in which every thing that could accumulate or sharpen misery, beset them. It scarcely needed the presence of an enemy to complete the work of destruction; the climate of Russia, aided by hunger, was amply sufficient.

In fact, the French soldiers could no longer be said to compose an army; they were straggling in all directions; anxious, indeed, to avoid the Cossacks, since from them they experienced only an aggravation of their misery: but not unwilling to fall in with the regular Russian troops, in the hope of being taken prisoners, or falling in battle. Their ignorance of the country, and the state of the roads, were such, that the different divisions of the French army could not support one another; and frequently, when expecting to fall in with the main body, they encountered the enemy, and were taken prisoners. On the 10th of November, before they reached Smolensk, general Angereau, with 2000 men and 60 officers, surrendered themselves: this was the first instance, during the present war, of a whole corps laying down their arms. It is computed that in three days time, prior to that date, they lost 20,000 men, besides 20,000 more that fell in the previous engagements: nearly 300 pieces of cannon had also either fallen into the