Russians told almost as terribly upon them as the retreat did upon
their enemies. Kutusoff's army therefore, though available for
defense, was a poor weapon for attack, especially when the object was
a French army under the dreaded Napoleon. The Russian commander was
only half-hearted in his pursuit; and when, having taken the short cut
which was unknown to his enemy, his van came in contact with the
French line at Wiazma on November third, the Russian soldiers had
little heart to fight. The circumstances offered every chance for a
powerful if not a decisive blow on the flying column from flank and
rear; but the onset was feeble, the commander-in-chief held back his
main force in anxious timidity, and a second time the opportunity was
lost for annihilating the retreating foe, now reduced in number to
about sixty thousand. Napoleon was far away on the front when Kutusoff
attacked, and the battle was conducted on the French side by the
marshals in consultation with Eugene and Poniatowski. The rear-guard
was momentarily severed from the line, but these two generals wheeled
and fiercely attacked the advancing Russians, engaging all within
reach until Davout was able to evade the melee and rejoin the main
army.

The French lost about four thousand, the Russians about half as many.
Neither of the two armies had any courage to renew the struggle next
morning, and each kept its way as best it could, both of them
exhausted, both shrinking hourly in vigor and numbers. Kutusoff's
conduct both at Malojaroslavetz and at Wiazma has been explained by
his fixed resolution to leave the destruction of the invaders to his
gaunt allies, want and winter. If, however, as was possible at either
place, he had annihilated the retreating army, this might have been
the last Napoleonic war, since it was not for a new army that the
Emperor of the French appealed to his people, but for something quite
different; namely, men to recruit the old one. As it was, Napoleon
first learned of the conflict at Wiazma on the fourth, and
contemplated a movement which might lead his pursuers into an ambush.
But he found the three columns which had been engaged so pitifully
disintegrated that he gave up in despair--a feeling heightened when,
for the first time, snowflakes came ominously fluttering through the
frosty air.

The weary march was therefore resumed, and there was some semblance of
order in it, although Ney wrote Berthier that already on the fourth