It was the depth of winter—­the cross-roads on which they moved were in the most frightful condition, insomuch that had not the zealous Mayor of Barbonne collected 500 horses, and come to their assistance, they must have been forced to leave all their artillery in a slough near that town; yet this determined band marched nearly forty miles ere they halted with the dark.  Next morning they proceeded with equal alacrity, and at length debouched on the road by which Blucher’s army was advancing, at Champaubert.  Alsusieff and the central division were passing, when Napoleon unexpectedly appeared at this point, and were altogether unable to resist his onset.  They dispersed in confusion with great loss, and fled towards the Marne.  Meantime the van of the same army, commanded by Sacken, who were advancing on La Ferte, and the division of D’York, already in sight of Meaux, turned on hearing the cannonade of Champaubert, and countermarched with the view of supporting Alsusieff.  They shared the fate of the centre, and having been severely handled at Montmirail, escaped across the Marne at Chateau-Tierry; thus leaving Blucher and the rear division alone to abide the attack of Napoleon’s entire force between the Marne and the Aube.  The Prussian marshal, advancing rapidly in consequence of the firing of these battles, found himself all at once in presence of an army flushed with victory, vastly superior in numbers, and well provided with cavalry, of which he had almost none.  He retired in alternate squares, sustaining all day the charges of the French, with much loss of life, but with no disorder; and at length cut his way, at Etoges, through a column of heavy horse, sent round to intercept him, and drawn up on the causeway.  Blucher himself was, in the course of this day, obliged to fight hand to hand like a private soldier.  His retreat was masterly, and he finally crossed the Marne at Chalons.

Such was Napoleon’s celebrated “Expedition of the Marne.”  In five days his arms had been three times successful.  He had shattered and dispersed (as he thought effectually) the Silesian army, and above all, recovered the spirits of his own soldiery.  A column of 7000 Prussian prisoners, with a considerable number of guns and standards, at length satisfied the Parisians that Victory had not entirely forsworn her old favourite.  Thus far all was well; and had Napoleon, from the field which thus raised the courage of his troops, and revived the confidence of his capital, despatched authority to Caulaincourt to conclude the treaty on the terms before described—­the victor of Montmirail might have kept the throne of France.  But his own presumption was rekindled by the same success which dazzled inferior eyes—­and Napoleon wrote on the instant to his representative at Chatillon, that he might now assume “an attitude less humble.”  This error proved fatal.