"Let us then hasten to pursue this impious enemy, while other Russian armies, once more occupying Lithuania, act in concert with us for his destruction! Already do we behold him in full flight, abandoning his baggage, burning his war carriages, and reluctantly separating himself from those treasures, which his profane hands had torn from the very altars of God. Already starvation and famine threaten Napoleon with disaster; behind him arise the murmurs of his troops like the roar of threatening waters. While these appalling sounds attend the retreat of the French, in the ears of the Russians resounds the voice of their magnanimous monarch. Listen, soldiers! while he thus addresses you! 'Extinguish the flames of Moscow in the blood of our invaders!' Russians, let us obey this solemn command! Our outraged country, appeased by this just vengeance, will then retire satisfied from the field of war, and behind the line of her extensive frontiers, will take her august station between Peace and Glory! "Russian warriors! God is our Leader! (Signed) MARSHAL PRINCE GOLENISHCHEFF KOOTOOZOF, "_General-in-Chief of all the Armies_." CHAPTER XXIII. To give any kind of description of the horrors of the retreat of the Grande Armée is very far from the intention of the writer of this history; the theme is both unpleasant and threadbare. An incident or two will suffice. Louise, marching with her regiment, which formed a portion of Marshal Ney's command, walked with her companions into an ambush of desperate Cossacks, who rode tumultuously into the midst of the French ranks from the shelter of a belt of pine forest, freely dealing death and wounds before they were driven back by their spirited opponents. Louise was knocked down by a small Cossack pony and trodden upon by more than one of its companions, the great majority of which, however, adroitly avoided stepping upon her; for the little Cossack horse hates to plant his foot upon a recumbent human form and displays marvellous ingenuity in avoiding so sacrilegious an act. Louise lay a while unconscious. When she recovered her senses and sat up her companions had already moved forward and were out of sight, all but the grim lines of dead men and a few wounded fellows who sat or lay and conversed. "_Sapristi!_" said Louise, "I don't think I am very badly hurt. Can you stand and walk, any of you? I have a mind to move on." Most of those about her replied that they preferred to remain and chance being picked up by the ambulances. "The Marshal himself is still behind," one said; "he will make dispositions for us."