Stragglers who had deserted from their regiments were repulsed wherever they went, and could find no place in the bivouacs. One can imagine the plight of these poor wretches. Tortured with hunger they flung themselves on every horse that fell, and fought like savage dogs over the carcase. Exhausted with long marches and want of sleep, they could find in the snow no rest for their weary limbs. Half dead with cold, they wandered in every direction, searching the snow for fuel, and even when they were successful, the sodden wood was difficult to kindle and the fire was easily extinguished by the wind. “Then they huddled together like cattle,” says an eye-witness, “around birches and pines, or under carts. Sometimes they would set fire to the houses in which the officers had taken refuge, and sit motionless through the night around these monster bonfires.” The soldiers’ frost-bitten limbs were covered with sores, which turned into black patches when they warmed them at the fire, and he was a lucky man who could boast of having escaped frost-bite altogether. In their miseries they forgot their booty. “The road was covered,” says Duverger, “with useless plunder, which they had flung away. The famous chest of quinine was left to its fate. I tried to sell my pictures, but no one seemed to want them. I gave my furs away for nothing. The man who brought away the library was struck with the happy thought of selling it in lots, but no one would make a bid.” They had even to abandon the famous trophies from Moscow, casting them into Lake Semlefsky, between Gjatsk and Mikhailov. The guns, the various knights’ trappings, and the ornaments from the Kremlin were buried close by. Ségur says that the famous cross from the belfry of John the Great was also sunk in the lake, but according to other authorities it was dragged on as far as the first post-house beyond Vilna. “How did it happen,” he asks, “that nothing had been provided for before the army left Moscow? How was it that these masses of soldiers who died of cold and starvation, were found laden with gold and silver instead of the food and clothing they required? How was it that during a rest of thirty-three days they never thought of roughing the horses’ feet so that they might get along with more speed and safety? How was it that, even if Napoleon himself gave no orders, these obvious precautions did not occur to the other authorities—the kings, princes, and marshals? Were they not aware that even in Russia autumn is followed by winter? Can we suppose that Napoleon relied upon the sagacity of his men, and left them to look after themselves?