The retreat had been disastrous. Every scourge that Nature has
in store we had experienced; but every day brought us nearer to
Smolensko: we were to find in that town repose and abundance. We
were marching, hope sustained us; she too was going to abandon us;
our misfortunes were to be as unheard-of as our victories. The
fourth corps lost its cannon; Augereau's brigade was destroyed, and
Witepsk taken; we had no more ammunition, or means of subsistence;
we were in a frightful situation: it was necessary to be resigned.
We put ourselves in motion; we arrived the following day at Krasnoi.
Kutusow, who was bearing on us with all his forces, had already an
advanced-guard there; it retired at the sight of our soldiers, and
took post a league farther on, halting on the left on the borders
of a forest, which it covered with fires. Napoleon sent for me, and
said—“We have the Russian infantry quite close to us; it is the first
time that they have shown so much boldness. I command you to charge
them with the bayonet about midnight, surprise them, teach them not
to be so desirous to approach so near to my head-quarters. I place at
your disposal all that remains of the young guard.” I had made all the
preparations, I was waiting near the fire of a Polish bivouac till
the hour should arrive, when General Narbonne came and said, “Give
up your troops to the Duke de Treviso; his Majesty does not wish you
to be killed in this affair; he reserves for you another destiny.” I
received this counter-order with pleasure, I did not conceal it. I
was weakened by fatigue, by sufferings, and cold. I was not inclined
to march against the enemy; moreover, his Cossacks had already given
him the alarm; he was prepared; he received us as well as he could.
He was nevertheless beaten and thrown back on his masses, which were
in positions parallel to the road, and extended in some sort from
Smolensko to Krasnoi; they attacked us in flank, they ought to have
been able to defeat us. Fortunately the illusion of our glory still
continued; we were protected by the remembrance of our victories.
Kutusow saw from a distance our columns which were defiling on the
road, but did not venture to attack them. He decided at last on
running the risk; but a peasant informed him that Napoleon was at
Krasnoi, that the guard occupied all the neighbourhood. This news
damped his courage: he revoked the orders that he had despatched.
We had long before taken the measure of his capacity; we always
took it into our account; it was one of our resources; he might
nevertheless change his mind, rush to arms, and destroy us. We all
perceived it; but we had no news from Eugène. Davoust and Ney were
in the rear; we could not leave them. The temperature moreover
became every day more severe; the Russians also suffered; they had
slumbered hitherto, they might slumber still. Napoleon resolved to
take the chance of it; he waited. Every thing turned out as he had
foreseen. Milloradowitz wished to intercept the fourth corps, but he
could not reach it. Five thousand infantry, who had neither horses
to clear away the assailants, nor cannon to defend themselves with,
constantly repulsed the multitudes of soldiers which were rushing on
them, made head against all this advanced-guard, and escaped. Davoust
followed; the enemy flattered themselves that they could take their
revenge on the Marshal, but the Emperor prevented it. He extended his
line on the left of Krasnoi, brought some troops into action, and
opened a pretty well sustained fire of artillery. Kutusow, alarmed
at the sight of the 14 or 15,000 men who had been drawn together,
recalled his detached corps: the Marshal passed over, and came to
take part in the action. The end was attained, the firing ceased,
and the retreat commenced. The enemy tried to prevent it; but the
first regiment of the voltigeurs of the guard repulsed all their
attacks; neither the cavalry, the infantry, nor grape shot could
move it: it perished on the spot. This heroic resistance struck the
Russians; they discontinued the pursuit. As soon as we were out of one
embarrassment, we fell into another. We in number from 14 to 15,000
men, had ventured to place ourselves in line against Kutusow's 20,000;
we had extricated ourselves, without a reverse, from a situation
where we ought to have been all taken; but our provisions, our rear
was lost. Minsk had been surprised; the army of Moldavia covered
the Beresina; Ney was still behind: never had our situation been so
terrible. Napoleon, who was astonished at this disastrous complication
of affairs, despatched orders to resume the offensive, and to take
Polosk. Success appeared to him easy. “If the Duke de Belluno shew
energy, the enterprise cannot fail; the character of the troops that
he commands ensures it. It is Ney that I am uneasy about; what is to
become of him.” This Marshal was in an unparalleled situation; all the
valour, the _sang froid_, and perseverance of that intrepid warrior
were necessary to extricate him; he had received on the night of the
16th or 17th news of Eugène's battle, and Davoust's departure. These
two events could not move him. “All the Cossacks of Russia,” said he,
on learning it, “should not hinder me from executing my instructions;
I will not depart from them a tittle.” He concluded his arrangements,
and proceeded to march: 6,000 infantry, three hundred horses, and
twelve pieces of cannon composed all his force. He was annoyed by
the light troops of the enemy which hovered round his flanks; he
was marching in close order, ready to receive any attack. At three
o'clock, his vanguard reached Katowa, and halted in sight of the corps
of Milloradowitz. The weather was foggy; neither party could see what
troops were before them. Ney crosses a ravine which separated him
from the enemy's troops, breaks through the first line, routs the
second, and would have defeated the whole army if the ravages of the
artillery had not prevented him. He was obliged to sound a retreat;
but his attack had been so impetuous that they dared not pursue him.
He lighted night-fires, as if he intended to stop all night: the
Russians imitated him. As soon as he had taken some rest, he removed
his quarters, and resolved to interpose the Borysthenes as a line of
separation between him and the enemy's troops, which were too numerous
for him to be able to force: he rushed into the stream, on the ice,
and reached the opposite bank; but new dangers were awaiting him there.
The Cossacks covered the plain; they charged us, and kept up a furious
fire of grape shot. Ney, who could not make any return to this
destructive cannonade, hastened his march, dispersing, overthrowing
every thing that dared oppose him. He marched for a wood which was not
far distant; he was on the point of reaching it, when a battery was
unmasked on him and disorganized his column. The soldiers waver and
throw down their arms, but the Marshal soon restores them to their
courage; his words, his voice, his example, encourage the most timid:
they rush on; the enemy's artillery fly; we are masters of the wood.
But there were neither roads nor paths through this thicket; it was
intersected by so many ravines, and there were so many obstacles, that
it was with infinite difficulty that it was traversed: nearly all
the _matériel_ was left in it. The Cossacks became the more daring;
for two days they never ceased renewing their attacks: but they had
themselves been obliged to make a circuit, their cannon was in arrear,
they had no artillery; a few voltigeurs did justice on them. Ney was
close upon Orsza: the night was advanced; he marched in silence: he
flattered himself that he had at last ridded himself of the enemy. On
a sudden he perceives the fires of bivouacs, he discovers the camp
of a numerous army. He did not know whether he should rejoice or
tremble, whether they were Russians or French, when a fire opened upon
him removes his uncertainty: the reconnoitring parties are received
with discharges of musquetry; explosions, cries, drums, are mingled
and confounded together; one would have thought that we were to give
battle to all Russia. Furious at seeing danger return at the moment
when he thought that he had escaped from it, the Marshal makes an
effort to open a passage; he rushes towards the fires—but the camp is
deserted: it is a trick, a stratagem. Platoff had, it appears, taken
us for his own troops; he had thought to frighten us with shadows. The
Duke disdained to follow a few Cossacks, who had been employed in this
phantasmagoria; he continued his march, and three leagues further on
reached the fourth corps.