He was quite the tactician, it turned out. Quite the analyst. His tutor, Sydney Gibbes, had him assessing battle plans and reading orders and first-hand reports, French sources in French and Russian sources in Russian, and all to prepare a report of his own in English. He was to summarise the choices made and their implications, and to suggest what the generals of either army might have done differently to bring about a decisive victory.

He showed me where he had the French Marshal Murat’s cavalry up against the Russian infantry of a General Neverovsky – he spoke of both as though I would know them well – and he read to me, translating into English as he did, their contradictory reports of the encounter, saying it was difficult to know what to make of it. I told him this was a good lesson from Mister Gibbes, that how battles are fought and how they are told are not always one and the same, and that every man afterwards – every officer at least – sets out to give a good account of himself.

‘But the closer I look at Borodino, Secretary,’ he said, ‘the harder it is to determine the victor. It was Russia, of course, for General Kutuzov was greatly rewarded afterwards. But Tolstoy called it a continuous slaughter that served neither side well and, the further I examine it, the more I can see his point.’

I must say I was impressed with his application to his studies. He did not think that being born to autocracy meant he had nothing to learn, and he had respect for people with knowledge even when they could never be of his station. His regard for his English tutor and the dilemmas Gibbes posed was evident. I had not had such a favourable view of the children of emperors until I met one. I had expected him to look down on everyone, as though worth was vested only in the titled. But that was not this young man at all.

‘The war was won though, in the end,’ he told me. ‘Of that there is no doubt. Tolstoy, Tchaikovsky, we can all agree on that. Father says Tolstoy credits it to ordinary Russians and to fate, but that can’t be all. Leadership must be part of it too. Troop movements don’t occur on their own. Not all is down to fate.’

We were getting on so well I thought I might chance a question that was not entirely polite, and I asked him, ‘What about you becoming the leader of the largest nation on Earth? Is that a matter of fate?’

He gave it thought and told me: ‘I could say so. Or a matter of the will of God. But it’s actually a matter of me outliving my father.’