r Montmirail. The shock was terrible; both sides were
weary with night marches on miry roads, along which cannon had to be
dragged by double teams: yet, though footsore and worn with cold and
hunger, the men fought with sustained fury, the French to stamp out
the barbarous invaders who had wasted their villages, the Russians to
hold their position until Yorck's Prussians should stretch a
succouring hand from the north. Many a time did the French rush at the
village of Marchais held by Sacken: they were repeatedly repulsed,
until, as darkness came on, Ney and Mortier with the Guard stormed a
large farmhouse on their left. Then, at last, Sacken's men drew off in
sore plight north-west across the fields, where Yorck's tardy advent
alone saved them from destruction. The next day completed their
discomfiture. Napoleon and Mortier pursued both allied corps to
Chateau-Thierry and, after sharp fighting in the streets of that
place, drove them across the Marne. The townsfolk hailed the advent of
their Emperor with unbounded joy: they had believed him to be at
Troyes, beaten and dispirited; and here he was delivering them from
the brutal licence of the eastern soldiery. Nothing was impossible to
him.

Next it was Bluecher's turn. Leaving Mortier to pursue the fugitives of
Sacken and Yorck along the Soissons road, Napoleon left
Chateau-Thierry late at night on the 13th, following the mass of his
troops to reinforce Marmont. That Marshal had yielded ground to
Bluecher's desperate efforts, but was standing at bay at Vauchamps,
when Napoleon drew near to the scene of the unequal fight. Suddenly a
mighty shout of "Vive l'Empereur" warned the assailants that they now
had to do with Napoleon. Yet no precipitation weakened the Emperor's
blow: not until his cavalry greatly outnumbered that of the allies did
he begin the chief attack. Stoutly it was beaten off by the allied
squares: but Drouot's artillery ploughed through their masses, while
swarms of horsemen were ready to open out those ghastly furrows. There
was nothing for it but retreat, and that across open country, where
the charges and the pounding still went on. But nothing could break
that stubborn infantry: animated by their leader, the Prussians and
Russians plodded steadily eastwards, until, as darkness drew on, they
found Grouchy's horse barring the road before Etoges. "Forward" was
still the veteran's cry: and through the cavalry they cut their way:
through hostile footmen