He met the Duke of Bassano at Miedniki.  His first words to him were, “that he had no longer an army; that for several days past he had been marching in the midst of a troop of disbanded men wandering to and fro in search of subsistence; that they might still be rallied by giving them bread, shoes, clothing, and arms; but that the Duke’s military administration had anticipated nothing, and his orders had not been executed.”  But upon Maret replying, by showing him a statement of the immense magazines collected at Wilna, he exclaimed, “that he gave him fresh life! that he would give him an order to transmit to Murat and Berthier to halt for eight days in that capital, there to rally the army, and infuse into it sufficient heart and strength to continue the retreat less deplorably.”

The subsequent part of Napoleon’s journey was effected without molestation.  He went round Wilna by its suburbs, crossed Wilkowiski, where he exchanged his carriage for a sledge, stopped during the 10th at Warsaw, to ask the Poles for a levy of ten thousand Cossacks, to grant them some subsidies, and to promise them he would speedily return at the head of three hundred thousand men.  From thence he rapidly crossed Silesia, visited Dresden, and its monarch, passed through Hanau, Mentz, and finally got to Paris, where he suddenly made his appearance on the 19th of December, two days after the appearance of his twenty-ninth bulletin.

From Malo-Yaroslawetz to Smorgoni, this master of Europe had been no more than the general of a dying and disbanded army.  From Smorgoni to the Rhine, he was an unknown fugitive, travelling through a hostile country; beyond the Rhine he again found himself the master and the conqueror of Europe.  A last breeze of the wind of prosperity once more swelled his sails.

Meanwhile, his generals, whom he left at Smorgoni, approved of his departure, and, far from being discouraged, placed all their hopes in it.  The army had now only to flee, the road was open, and the Russian frontier at a very short distance.  They were getting within reach of a reinforcement of eighteen thousand men, all fresh troops, of a great city, and immense magazines.  Murat and Berthier, left to themselves, fancied themselves able to regulate the flight.  But in the midst of the extreme disorder, it required a colossus for a rallying point, and he had just disappeared.  In the great chasm which he left, Murat was scarcely perceptible.

It was then too clearly seen that a great man is not replaced, either because the pride of his followers can no longer stoop to obey another, or that having always thought of, foreseen, and ordered every thing himself, he had only formed good instruments, skilful lieutenants, but no commanders.

The very first night, a general refused to obey.  The marshal who commanded the rear-guard was almost the only one who returned to the royal head-quarters.  Three thousand men of the old and young guard were still there.  This was the whole of the grand army, and of that gigantic body there remained nothing but the head.  But at the news of Napoleon’s departure, these veterans, spoiled by the habit of being commanded only by the conqueror of Europe, being no longer supported by the honour of serving him, and scorning to act as guards to another, gave way in their turn, and voluntarily fell into disorder.