and the prosperity
of the empire seriously impaired by the continental blockade. But when
Bonaparte began to show scant courtesy to his Russian ally, and to act
as if he were his master, then Alexander's disenchantment was complete.
He freed himself from the unnatural alliance, and faced the inevitable
consequences.

Napoleon, also glad to be freed from a sentimental friendship not at
all to his taste, prepared to carry out his long-contemplated design.
In July of 1812, by way of Poland, he entered Russia with an army of
over 678,000 souls. It was a human avalanche collected mainly from the
people he had conquered, with which he intended to overwhelm the
Russian Empire. It was of little consequence that thirty or forty
thousand fell as this or that town was captured by the way. He had
expected victory to be costly, and on he pressed with diminished
numbers toward Moscow, armies retreating and villages burning before
him. If St. Petersburg was the brain of Russia, Moscow--Moscow the
Holy--was its heart! What should they do? Should they lure the French
army on to its destruction and then burn and retreat? or should they
there take their stand and sacrifice the last army of Russia to save
Moscow? With tears streaming down their cheeks they yielded to the
words of Kutuzof, who said: "When it becomes a matter of the salvation
of Russia, Moscow is only a city like any other. Let us retreat." The
archives and treasures of the churches and palaces were carried to
Valdimir, such as could of the people following them, and the city was
left to its fate.

On September the 14th, 1812, the French troops defiled through the
streets of Moscow singing the Marseillaise, and Napoleon established
himself in the ancient palace of the Ivans within the walls of the
Kremlin. The torches had been distributed, and were in the hands of
the Muscovites. The stores of brandy, and boats loaded with alcohol,
were simultaneously ignited, and a fierce conflagration like a sea of
flame raged below the Kremlin. Napoleon, compelled to force his way
through these volcanic fires himself, narrowly escaped.

For five days they continued, devouring supplies and everything upon
which the army had depended for shelter and subsistence. For
thirty-five days more they waited among the blackened ruins. All was
over with the French conquest. The troops were eating their horses,
and thousands were already perishing with hunger. Then the elements
be