On the eve of this great event he discussed everything in the calmest manner, speaking of this country as he would have done of a beautiful, fertile province of France.  In hearing him one might think that the granary of the army had here been found, that it would consequently furnish excellent winter quarters, and the first care of the government he was about to establish at Gjatsk would be the encouragement of agriculture.  He then pointed out to his marshals the beautiful windings of the river which gives its name to the village, and appeared delighted with the landscape spread before his eyes.  I have never seen the Emperor abandon himself to such gentle emotions, nor seen such serenity manifested both in his countenance and conversation; and at the same time I was never more deeply impressed with the greatness of his soul.

On the 5th of September the Emperor mounted the heights of 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.”