Chapter 1476: Battle with the Severe Cold, Part 5
By noon the next day, while on the march, the Bagration Legion encountered a large number of Russian soldiers frozen solid by the roadside.
In less than half a day, they had collected over a thousand corpses.
These were the very prisoners Kościuszko had released earlier.
There were no villages within a radius of a hundred kilometers, and the Polish Army had confiscated all the food and blankets from these captives. Without food to generate body heat, they had been unable to last three days before succumbing to the freezing temperatures.
The Russian soldiers' morale had begun to rise after repelling the Poles, but seeing these half-naked corpses—victims of the extreme cold—made them feel a chill several times more piercing than the wind. Pessimism about the war's future began to take root in their hearts once more.
By the time they reached the upper reaches of the Iput River, another hundred kilometers away, they had already lost over 1,200 men to the cold and disease.
The only good news was that three other main Russian army groups had finally arrived near Bryansk, deploying along an east-west axis to once again form an encirclement around the Polish Army.
Kutuzov had dispatched all his Cossack Light Cavalry. He estimated that in three days at most, they would be able to snap at the heels of the Poles and drag down their retreat.
Thus, the Polish and Russian forces engaged in a life-or-death race across the frozen Ruthenian Plain.
By this time, the forward-deployed Madalinski Legion had exhausted all its supplies. The soldiers were surviving on only half a pound of frozen horse meat and a single loaf of black bread per day.
In the makeshift Polish camp, Kościuszko first ordered his staff officers to distribute bread to the newcomers. He then approached Madalinski and asked in a low voice, "How many soldiers do you have left in your legion?"
The latter lowered his head and replied, "Thirty-three thousand, Marshal."
Kościuszko's eyes widened. "How could the losses be so heavy?"
The Polish Vanguard originally consisted of over 43,000 men. This meant that more than ten thousand had perished during the retreat from Dorogobuzh to this point.
The number was staggering, but in reality, if Saint-Cyr had not implemented the southern retreat strategy in time, the Madalinski Legion would likely have fewer than ten thousand men left by now.
Madalinski choked back a sob. "Many of the sick soldiers... they volunteered to stay behind to hold back the enemy. If it weren't for their sacrifice, my army would have run out of food three days ago."
Kościuszko looked at the soldiers of the vanguard, their faces covered in frostbite. He solemnly removed his hat and, after a long silence, let out a deep sigh. "May the Lord protect them."
Madalinski asked with some urgency, "Marshal, are we turning toward Klintsy next?"
Klintsy was to the west of Bryansk. Crossing the Dnieper River from there would lead them directly to the Polish city of Mazyr.
A nearby officer spoke in French, "No, General, we will continue to move south."
"South? We've already exhausted our supplies. Why would we go deeper into Russian territory?" Madalinski understood French, and he looked at the Frenchman with confusion. "And you are?"
"This is Colonel Saint-Cyr," Kościuszko introduced him. "A military advisor sent by His Royal Highness the Prince Regent to assist us."
Madalinski hurried to tip his hat in respect to the Frenchman.
Saint-Cyr returned the gesture. "The Russians have certainly deployed troops at Gomel. If we are delayed there for even two or three days, we will find ourselves surrounded by even more enemy forces."
Kościuszko added, "Furthermore, we don't have many cannons left. It would be difficult to break through a Russian defensive line."
To avoid slowing their pace, Saint-Cyr had ordered the Polish army to abandon all cannons heavier than 6-pounders.
Madalinski said anxiously, "But if we continue south, we'll eventually be intercepted by the Russians anyway."
"We might encounter some, but not many," Saint-Cyr explained. "Kutuzov has concentrated almost all his forces along the line from Minsk to Moscow."
"How do you know that?" Madalinski asked in surprise.
Kościuszko answered without a second thought, "This is the judgment of His Royal Highness the Prince Regent."
Madalinski nodded silently. The military genius of the French Regent had long ago earned the soul-deep admiration of every Pole.
Saint-Cyr continued, "The Russians cannot implement scorched-earth tactics over an infinite area. According to my estimates, as soon as we reach the vicinity of Novhorod-Siverskyi, we should be able to find supplies."
Madalinski frowned. "But... what then? How do we shake off the pursuit?"
Saint-Cyr gave a cold smile. "By destroying the Russians' logistics. Once they fall into chaos, we will find an opportunity to cross the Dnieper River near Chernihiv."
Under the desperate protection of numerous rearguard units, the main force of the Polish Army finally stepped into the territory of the Principality of Seversk after three days of forced marching.
Though called a principality, it had been occupied by Russia for 150 years and had long since become a core part of Russian territory.
Just as Saint-Cyr had predicted, the villages here had not been destroyed. Even from a distance, one could see serfs busy working in front of their granaries.
Indeed, this place was over 300 kilometers away from Smolensk. If Kutuzov were to empty out an area this vast, half of southwestern Russia would turn into a wasteland.
Kościuszko breathed a sigh of relief. Without hesitation, he dispatched a dozen infantry detachments to collect all the grain, fodder, and horses in the vicinity.
If time had permitted, the soldiers wouldn't even have spared the crude vodka and dark beer.
As for what they couldn't carry away, they burned or dumped it all on the spot.
The Polish soldiers felt no psychological burden doing this to the Russians, with whom they shared a deep and bitter blood feud.
After securing grain and spirits, the condition of the cold and hungry Polish soldiers finally began to recover to some extent.
Saint-Cyr first organized an ambush against the pursuing Cossack cavalry west of Novhorod-Siverskyi, and then immediately ordered the entire army to turn toward Koriukivka to the west, where they once again replenished their logistics supplies.
Next, the Polish Army continued south, striking toward Lubny, the industrial and commercial heart of southwestern Russia.
Two days later, the Russian General Wittgenstein also reached Novhorod-Siverskyi.
The continuous forced marches in the severe winter had caused severe non-combat losses among his troops. Out of twenty thousand men, only fifteen thousand reached the city.
Wittgenstein looked at the city's bell tower, which was faintly visible in the distance, and let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Not even mentioning the soldiers, even he had caught a cold over the past few days. All he wanted now was to enter the city and have a proper rest.
Just then, the commander of the Cossack cavalry galloped up, gasping for breath as he reported, "General, the nearby villages have all been destroyed by the Poles. There is almost no grain left in the city, and even the firewood is scarce!"
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