ay, was repeated by the whole army; the one had cost 300 or
400 men, the other 5000 or 6000; but Davoust persuaded the emperor to
persevere in his attack.

Night came on. Napoleon retired to his tent, which had been placed more
prudently than the day before; and the Count Lobau, who had made himself
master of the ditch, but could no longer maintain his ground there,
ordered shells to be thrown into the city to dislodge the enemy. Thick
black columns of smoke were presently seen rising from several points;
these were soon lighted at intervals by flickering flashes, then by
sparks, and at last, long spires of flame burst from all parts. It was
like a great number of distinct fires. It was not long before they
united and formed but one vast blaze, which whirling about as it rose,
covered Smolensk, and entirely consumed it, with a dismal roaring.

Count Lobau was dismayed by so great a disaster, which he believed to be
his own work. The emperor, seated in front of his tent, contemplated in
silence this awful spectacle. It was as yet impossible to ascertain
either the cause or the result, and the night was passed under arms.

About three in the morning, one of Davoust's subalterns ventured to the
foot of the wall, which he scaled without noise. Emboldened by the
silence which reigned around him, he penetrated into the city; all at
once several voices and the Sclavonian accent were heard, and the
Frenchman, surprised and surrounded, thought that he had nothing to do
but to sell his life dearly, or surrender. The first rays of the dawn,
however, showed him, in those whom he mistook for enemies, some of
Poniatowski's Poles. They had been the first to enter the city, which
Barclay had just evacuated.

After Smolensk had been reconnoitred and its approaches cleared, the
army entered the walls: it traversed the reeking and blood-stained ruins
with its accustomed order, pomp, and martial music, triumphing over the
deserted wreck, and having no other witness of its glory but itself. A
show without spectators, an almost fruitless victory, a sanguinary
glory, of which the smoke that surrounded us, and seemed to be our only
conquest, was but too faithful an emblem.

CHAP. V.

When the emperor knew that Smolensk was entirely occupied, and its fires
almost extinguished, and when day and the different reports had
sufficiently instructed him; when, in short, he saw that there, as at
the Niemen, at Wilna, at Witepsk, the phant