f Borodino,
hoping to take in at a glance the respective positions of the two armies;
but the sky was overcast. One of those fine, cold rains soon began to
fall, which so often come in the early autumn, and resemble from a
distance a tolerably thick fog. The Emperor tried to use his glasses;
but the kind of veil which covered the whole country prevented his seeing
any distance, by which he was much vexed. The rain, driven by the wind,
fell slanting against his field-glasses, and he had to dry them over and
over again, to his very great annoyance. The atmosphere was so cold and
damp that he ordered his cloak, and wrapped himself in it, saying that as
it was impossible to remain there, he must return to headquarters, which
he did, and throwing himself on the bed slept a short while. On awaking
he said, "Constant, I hear a noise outside; go see what it is." I went
out, and returned to inform him that General Caulaincourt had arrived; at
which news the Emperor rose hastily, and ran to meet the general, asking
him anxiously, "Do you bring any prisoners?" The general replied that
he had not been able to take prisoners, since the Russian soldiers
preferred death to surrender. The Emperor immediately cried, "Let all
the artillery be brought forward." He had decided that in his
preparations to make this war one of extermination, the cannon would
spare his troops the fatigue of discharging their muskets.

On the 6th, at midnight, it was announced to the Emperor that the fires
of the Russians seemed less numerous, and the flames were extinguished at
several points; and some few said they had heard the muffled sound of
drums. The army was in a state of great anxiety. The Emperor sprang
wildly from his bed, repeatedly exclaiming, "It is impossible!"

I tried to hand him his garments, that he might clothe himself warmly, as
the night was so cold; but he was so eager to assure himself personally
of the truth of these statements, that he rushed out of the tent with
only his cloak wrapped around him. It was a fact that the fires of the
bivouac had grown paler, and the Emperor had reason for the gravest
suspicions. Where would the war end if the Russians fell back now? He
re-entered his tent much agitated, and retired to bed again, repeating
many times, "We will know the truth to-morrow morning."

On the 7th of September, the sun rose in a cloudless sky, and the Emperor
exclaimed, "It is the sun of Austerlitz!" These words of the Empero