‘Against any other commander I would agree with you, but not the Tsar. We have him before us. He is willing to give battle and I do not want to give him any excuse to break off and continue his retreat. We must do all that we can to encourage him to remain in front of us. Is that clear?’

Davout shook his head.‘Sire, our cavalry is the finest in Europe. Why did we bring so many of them with us if you are not prepared to use them? This is a heaven-sent opportunity to trap the Tsar.’

‘He’s right, sire.’ Murat nodded. ‘Let my cavalry settle the issue.’

Napoleon raised a hand to his brow. He had decided on a plan, and balanced the risk of heavy losses against the fear that the Tsar would slip away once again. It was too late to change his mind. His head was pounding now, and despite the warmth of the day he felt cold and his body started to tremble. As Murat began to speak again Napoleon raised his hand to stop him. ‘Enough! The Grand Army has its orders, and you have yours. All that remains is to deploy your men in readiness for tomorrow. You are dismissed. Go.’

The rising sun was still hidden behind the hills upon which sprawled battalion upon battalion of Russian troops. The silhouettes and standards of the men on the crests were black against the soft orange hue of the eastern sky. The redoubts bulked huge and ominous in the shadowed side of the hills. The largest was on the right of the line commanding the bridge across the river to Borodino. A ditch lay to the front, then high earth ramparts and scores of embrasures through which the barrels of cannon pointed towards the French lines. The other earthworks took the form of two huge chevrons, their tips thrusting towards the enemy. Napoleon knew that when his infantry advanced the crossfire between the chevrons would be murderous.

He had not slept well. His cold had made it difficult to breathe easily and kept waking him. Now he struggled to think clearly as he beheld the final preparations for the battle. The corps of Ney and Davout stood ready to advance. Ahead of them lay over four hundred cannon, massed in batteries to bombard the Russian earthworks. They had been protected by hastily erected earthworks of their own, but the previous evening Napoleon’s artillery commander, General Lariboisière, had informed him that they were out of effective range of the Russian defences. So the guns had been dragged forward in the early hours and now stood out in the open. The reserve, the Imperial Guard, was formed up just outside Schivardino.