hich presented a horrible
spectacle, nearly all the dead being covered with wounds; which proved
with what bitterness the battle had been waged. The weather was very
inclement, and rain was falling, accompanied by a very high wind. Poor
wounded creatures, who had not yet been removed to the ambulances, half
rose from the ground in their desire not to be overlooked and to receive
aid; while some among them still cried, "Vive l'Empereur!" in spite of
their suffering and exhaustion. Those of our soldiers who had been
killed by Russian balls showed on their corpses deep and broad wounds,
for the Russian balls were much larger than ours. We saw a color-bearer,
wrapped in his banner as a winding-sheet, who seemed to give signs of
life, but he expired in the shock of being raised. The Emperor walked
on and said nothing, though many times when he passed by the most
mutilated, he put his hand over his eyes to avoid the sight. This calm
lasted only a short while; for there was a place on the battlefield where
French and Russians had fallen pell-mell, almost all of whom were wounded
more or less grievously. And when the Emperor heard their cries, he
became enraged, and shouted at those who had charge of removing the
wounded, much irritated by the slowness with which this was done. It was
difficult to prevent the horses from trampling on the corpses, so thickly
did they lie. A wounded soldier was struck by the shoe of a horse in the
Emperor's suite, and uttered a heartrending cry, upon which the Emperor
quickly turned, and inquired in a most vehement manner who was the
awkward person by whom the man was hurt. He was told, thinking that it
would calm his anger, that the man was nothing but a Russian. "Russian
or French," he exclaimed, "I wish every one removed!"

Poor young fellows who were making their first campaign, being wounded to
the death, lost courage, and wept like children crying for their mothers.
The terrible picture will be forever engraven on my memory.

The Emperor urgently repeated his orders for removing the wounded
quickly, then turned his horse in silence, and returned to his
headquarters, the evening being now far advanced. I passed the night
near him, and his sleep was much disturbed; or, rather, he did not sleep
at all, and repeated over and over, restlessly turning on his pillow,
"Poor Caulaincourt! What a day! What a day!"

CHAPTER IV.

As I have announced previously, I shall endeavor to record in th