its roof and in its court-yard.
The most frightful danger of the whole night now threatened the
imperilled army. In the court-yards of the Kremlin had been placed more
than four hundred wagons of ammunition; in its arsenal were a hundred
thousand pounds of powder. Should the flames reach these, Napoleon and
his guards would be blown into the air.

All who were near him pressed him to hasten from this imminent peril.
General Lariboisiere begged him to fly, as a duty which he owed to his
army. Officers who came in from the streets reported that it was almost
impossible to pass through the avenues of the town, and that delay would
increase the danger. To remain where they were much longer might render
escape impossible.

Napoleon, convinced by these words, left the Kremlin, after some
twenty-four hours' possession of this old palace of the czars, and
descended to the quay of the Moskowa, where he found his horses awaiting
him. Mounting, he rode through the fire-invaded streets towards the
north-west, but with no little difficulty and danger, for the flames
from the other quarters of the city were now spreading here.

The wind seemed steadily to increase in violence, torrents of smoke,
cinders, and sparks were driven down into the streets; sheets of flame
seemed to bend downward as if to sweep the ground; on every side the
troops were flying for their lives, on every side the conflagration
pursued them; it was through imminent peril that the grand army, which
on the morning before had marched so triumphantly into that abandoned
city, now succeeded in gaining a safe location outside, whence they
could look back in despair on that hell of flames in which their dearest
hopes were being consumed.

A small number of the inhabitants who had remained concealed in their
houses now came out, carrying away with them what treasures they most
esteemed; in some cases, women their children, men their aged parents;
many of them barely saving their clothes, and disputing the possession
of even these with the band of robbers whom Rostopchin had let loose,
and who, like spirits of evil, danced with glee in the midst of the
terrible conflagration which had been kindled by their hands.

So ended one of the most startling events in history,--the burning of a
great city to dispossess a victorious foe. It proved successful. When
Napoleon left the Kremlin on that fearful night he began his downward
career. The conflagration, it is true, did