The Emperor was once more at the head of his united “grand army”; but the name was ere now become a jest.  Between Smolensko and the Dnieper the Russians had taken 228 guns, and 26,000 prisoners; and, in a word, having mustered 40,000 effective men at leaving Smolensko, Napoleon could count only 12,000 after Ney joined him at Orcsa.  Of these there were but 150 cavalry; and, to remedy this defect, officers still in possession of horses, to the number of 500, were now formed into a “sacred band,” as it was called, for immediate attendance on the Emperor’s person.  The small fragment of his once gigantic force had no sooner recovered something like the order of discipline, than it was again set in motion.

But scarcely had the Emperor passed the Dnieper, when he received the tidings of the fall of Minsk, and the subsequent retreat of Schwartzenberg towards Warsaw.  It was, therefore, necessary, to alter his plan, and force a passage into Poland to the northward of that great depot.  It was necessary, moreover, to do this without loss of time, for the Emperor well knew that Witgenstein had been as successful on his right flank, as Tchichagoff on his left; and that these generals might soon be, if they already were not, in communication with each other, and ready to unite all their forces for the defence of the next great river on his route—­the Beresina.

Napoleon had hardly resolved to attempt the passage of this river at Borizoff, ere, to renew all his perplexities, he received intelligence that Witgenstein had defeated Dombrowski there, and retained possession of the town and bridge.  Victor and Oudinot, indeed, advanced immediately to succour Dombrowski, and re-took Borizoff; but Witgenstein burnt the bridge before he re-crossed the Beresina.  Imperfect as Victor’s success was, Napoleon did not hear of it immediately.  He determined to pass the Beresina higher up, at Studzianska, and forthwith threw himself into the huge forests which border that river, adopting every stratagem by which his enemies could be puzzled as to the immediate object of his march.

His 12,000 men, brave and determined, but no longer preserving in their dress, nor, unless when the trumpet blew, in their demeanour, a soldier-like appearance, were winding their way amidst these dark woods, when suddenly the air around them was filled with sounds which could only proceed from the march of some far greater host.  They were preparing for the worst, when they found themselves in presence of the advanced guard of the united army of Victor and Oudinot, who had, indeed, been defeated by Witgenstein, but still mustered 50,000 men, completely equipped and hardly shaken in discipline.  With what feelings must these troops have surveyed the miserable half-starved and half-clad remains of that “grand army,” their own detachment from whose banners had, some few short months before, filled every bosom among them with regret!