The order had been
given to admit only regular troops. The commanders had thought of the
excesses of Smolensk and Orscha and here at least they intended to save the
magazines from pillage. Our little column remained at the gate for a while;
we saw that whoever risked to mix with the crowd could not extricate
himself again and could neither advance nor return. It came near sunset,
the cold by no means abated but, on the contrary, augmented. Every minute
the crowd increased in number, the dying and dead mixed up with the living.
We decided to go around the city, to try to enter at some other part; after
half an hour's march we succeeded and found ourselves in the streets. They
were full of baggage, soldiers, and inhabitants. But where to turn? Where
to seek aid? By good luck we remembered that our officers passing Wilna on
their way during the spring had been well received by Mr. Malczewski, a
friend of our colonel. Nothing more natural than to go to him and ask for
asylum. But imagine our joy, our delight, when at our arrival at the house
we found our colonel himself, the quartermaster and many officers known by
us, who all were the guests of Mr. Malczewski. Even Lieutenant Gordon who
commanded our depot at Thorn was there; he had come after he had had the
news of the battle of Borodino.
"My faithful servant Maciejowski and the brave Wasilenka carried me up the
stairs and placed me in bed. I was half dead, hardly master of my senses.
Gordon gave me a shirt, my servant took charge of my garments to free them
from vermin, and after I had had some cups of hot beer with ginger in it
and was under a warm blanket, I recovered strength enough to understand
what I was told and to do what I was asked to do.
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