courage.  The Emperor had the eagles brought from each corps and burned, since he thought that fugitives had no need of them.  It was a sad sight to see these men advancing from the ranks one by one, and casting in the flames what they valued more than their lives, and I have never seen dejection more profound, or shame more keenly felt; for this seemed much like a general degradation to the brave soldiers of the battle of La Moskwa.  The Emperor had made these eagles talismans, and this showed only too plainly he had lost faith in them.  And although the soldiers realized that the situation of affairs must be desperate to have come to this, it was at least some consolation to think that the Russians would have only the ashes.  What a scene was presented by the burning of these eagles, above all to those who like myself had been present at the magnificent ceremonies attending their distribution to the army in the camp of Boulogne before the campaign of Austerlitz!

Horses were needed for the artillery, and at this critical moment the artillery was the safeguard of the army.  The Emperor consequently gave orders that the horses should be impressed, for he estimated the loss of a single cannon or caisson as irreparable.  The artillery was confided to the care of a corps composed entirely of officers, and numbering about five hundred men.  His Majesty was so much touched at seeing these brave officers become soldiers again, put their hand to the cannon like simple cannoneers, and resume their practice of the manual of arms in their devotion to duty, that he called this corps his sacred squadron.  With the same spirit which made these officers become soldiers again, the other superior officers descended to a lower rank, with no concern as to the designation of their grade.  Generals of division Grouchy and Sebastiani took again the rank of simple captain.

When near Borizow we halted at the sound of loud shouts, thinking ourselves cut off by the Russian army.  I saw the Emperor grow pale; it was like a thunderbolt.  A few lancers were hastily dispatched, and we saw them soon returning waving their banners in the air.  His Majesty understood the signal, and even before the cuirassiers had reassured us, so clearly did he keep in mind even the possible position of each corps of his army, he exclaimed, “I bet it is Victor.”  And in fact it was Marshal Victor, who awaited us with lively impatience.  It seemed that the marshal’s army had received very vague information of our disasters, and was prepared to receive the Emperor with joy and enthusiasm.  His soldiers still fresh and vigorous, at least compared with the rest of the army, could hardly believe the evidence of their own eyes when they saw our wretched condition; but the cries of “Vive l’Empereur” were none the less enthusiastic.