His escape route was cut off; the bridgehead across the Beresina at Borrisov had been attacked and totally destroyed. Ahead of the French the icy river stretched, barring the way into Poland, the Russian Tchitchagov was advancing from Borrisov, the Austrians had let the enemy Wittgenstein through, who was racing to join up at the bridgehead, and Kutuzov and his forces were pressing after them from behind. Napoleon ordered his papers to be burnt and his personal arms made ready, either for suicide or death in battle. Forty thousand men, without horses or guns, their pontoon train fired by the Emperor’s orders, began the last stage of the most terrible retreat in military history. Valentina and De Chavel, with Alexandra and the Major, started off in the rear, and for the first two days they travelled in the sledge; their pace slowed to the speed of the miserable marching thousands, who crawled in a black line across the dazzling wasteland of snow. At night they slept inside it, de Lamballe and Janos keeping watch over the horses.
