Napoleon, after barely escaping capture at the hands of the free-lance Seslavin’s Cossacks, and that only by the most remarkable good fortune, arrived at Warsaw. When he had somewhat recovered from the fatigues of his journey, he gave the following explanation of the disastrous issue of the campaign—“When I left Paris it was my intention,” he said, “to carry the war no further than the former confines of Poland. Circumstances drew me on. Perhaps I was guilty of an error in going so far as Moscow, perhaps I was wrong in staying there so long as I did; but from the sublime to the ridiculous is but a step, and posterity shall be my judge! My French soldiers,” he added, “are worthless in the frost, the cold turns them into mere dummies.” “During the retreat I had no cavalry, and I must admit that when the Cossacks attacked my column I found myself in a dilemma. It was impossible to mass the army together, for that would have retarded the retreat; it was equally impossible to deploy it, for the Cossacks would have broken through our line. We were obliged to continue our retreat, to fill up the gaps, and deceive the enemy. I confess that I needed all my skill and experience to escape.” He did indeed escape, but with this campaign began the decline of his power. [Illustration: Printer's decoration] ----- Footnote 4: There seems to be no doubt about the incident in question. But though it would appear that the French plundered the houses in Viazma, Napoleon writes in Bulletin XVI.—“The Cossacks pillaged Viazma so completely before their departure that the inhabitants do not think there is much chance of the town ever renewing its allegiance to Russia.” Footnote 5: It is stated that for a long time there was only one sapper attached to Dorogomilovsky’s detachment. Footnote 6: To be more accurate, it appears that the Russians had already begun to retire in the night. Footnote 7: The state of Napoleon’s temper and the keenness with which he felt his position were reflected in his treatment of his servants. “His trusty henchman, Roustan,” says Soltyk, “who happened one day to put Napoleon’s left boot on his right foot, found himself stretched on the broad of his back by a vigorous kick.” Footnote 8: