masses, while swarms of horsemen were ready to open out those ghastly furrows.  There was nothing for it but retreat, and that across open country, where the charges and the pounding still went on.  But nothing could break that stubborn infantry:  animated by their leader, the Prussians and Russians plodded steadily eastwards, until, as darkness drew on, they found Grouchy’s horse barring the road before Etoges.  “Forward” was still the veteran’s cry:  and through the cavalry they cut their way:  through hostile footmen that had stolen round to the village they also burst, and at last found shelter near Bergeres.  “Words fail me,” wrote Colonel Hudson Lowe, “to express my admiration at their undaunted and manly behaviour.”

This gallant retreat shed lustre over the rank and file.  But the sins of the commanders had cost the allies dear.  In four days the army of Silesia lost fully 15,000 men, and its corps were driven far asunder by Napoleon’s incursion.  His brilliant moves and trenchant strokes astonished the world.  With less than 30,000 men he had burst into Bluecher’s line of march, and scattered in flight 50,000 warriors advancing on Paris in full assurance of victory.  It was not chance, but science, that gave him these successes.  Acting from behind the screen of the Seine, he had thrown his small but undivided force against scattered portions of a superior force.  It was the strategy of Lonato and Castiglione over again; and the enthusiasm of those days bade fair to revive.

His men, who previously had tramped downheartedly over wastes of snow and miry cross-roads, now marched with head erect as in former days; the villagers, far from being cowed by the brutalities of the Cossacks, formed bands to hang upon the enemies’ rear and entrap their foragers.  Above all, Paris was herself once more.  Before he began these brilliant moves, he had to upbraid Cambaceres for his unmanly conduct.  “I see that instead of sustaining the Empress, you are discouraging her.  Why lose your head thus?  What mean these Miserere and these prayers of forty hours?  Are you going mad at Paris?” Now the capital again breathed defiance to the foe, and sent the Emperor National Guards.  Many of these from Brittany, it is true, came “in round hats and sabots”:  they had no knapsacks:  but they had guns, and they fought.

Could he have pursued Bluecher on the morrow he might probably have broken up even that hardy infantry, now in dire straits for want of supplies.  But bad news came to hand from the south-west.  Under urgent pressure from the Czar, Schwarzenberg had pushed forward two columns from Troyes towards Paris:  one of them had seized the bridge over the Seine at Bray, a day’s march below Nogent:  the other was nearing Fontainebleau.  Napoleon was furious at the neglect of Victor to guard the crossing at Bray, and reluctantly turned away from Bluecher to crush these columns.  His men marched or were carried in vehicles, by way of Meaux and Guignes, to reinforce