If only the weather would change, the ground would freeze, how welcome would be the altered conditions.

But the half snow, the half rain, still beat down upon them.

Their poor beasts were almost exhausted.

They broke the ice of the Grand Morin river to get water for the horses and themselves, and, not daring to kindle a fire, for they were approaching the country occupied by Bluecher, they made a scanty meal from their haversacks.
They had found the farmhouses and chateaux deserted, evidences of hasty flight and plunder on every side.

The Cossacks had swept through the land beyond the town.