“I entered the wood with my regiment. The Cossacks retired; but the wood was deep, and tolerably dense, and we had to face every way to guard against surprise. Night came, we no longer heard anything around us; it was more than probable that Marshal Ney was continuing his advance. I advised General d’Henin to follow his movement; he refused, lest he should incur reproach from the marshal for quitting, without orders, the post assigned to him. At this moment loud shouts, announcing a charge, were heard at some distance in our front; giving us the certainty that the column was continuing its march, and that we were about to be cut off from it. I redoubled my entreaties, assuring General d’Henin that the marshal, with whose way of serving I was well acquainted, would send him no order, because he expected commanding officers, thus detached, to act according to circumstances; besides which, he was too far off to be able to communicate with us, and the 18th regiment had assuredly moved on long ago. The general persisted in his refusal; all I obtained from him was to move us on to the place where the 18th ought to be, and unite the two regiments. The 18th had marched, and in its place we found a squadron of Cossacks. Tardily convinced of the justice of my remarks, General d’Henin determined to rejoin the column; but we had traversed the wood in so many directions, that we no longer knew our way. The officers of my regiment were consulted, and we took the direction the majority thought the right one. I will not undertake to describe all we had to endure during that cruel night. I had but one hundred men left, and we were more than a league in rear of our main body, which we must overtake through a host of enemies. It was necessary to march quick enough to make up for lost time, and in sufficient order to resist the attacks of the Cossacks. The darkness, the uncertainty of our road, the difficulty of making way through the wood, all augmented our embarrassment. The Cossacks called to us to surrender, and fired pointblank into the midst of us: those who were hit remained behind. A sergeant had his leg broken by a carbine ball. He fell at my side, saying coolly to his comrades—_Another man done for; take my havresack, you will profit by it._ They took his havresack, and we moved on in silence. Two wounded officers had the same fate. I observed with uneasiness the impression our position made upon the soldiers, and even upon the officers, of my regiment. Men who had shown themselves heroes in the battle-field, now appeared anxious and troubled; so true is it that the circumstances of danger have often greater terrors than the danger itself. Very few preserved the presence of mind that was then more necessary than ever. I needed all my authority to maintain order and prevent straggling. An officer even ventured to say, that we should perhaps be obliged to surrender. I reprimanded him aloud, and the more