midday
It was Napoleon , at the summit of his dream , hurriedly quitting the Kremlin , the boasted goal of his ambition , after having passed but one night under that proud roof . Tho ' he trip and fall He shall not blind his soul with clay . The days were short , and November was drawing to its end when Barlasch returned to Dantzig . Already the frost , holding its own against a sun that seemed to linger in the North that year , exercised its sway almost to midday , and drew a mist from the level plains . The autumn had been one of unprecedented splendour , making the imaginative whisper that Napoleon , like a second Joshua , could exact obedience even from the sun . A month earlier , soon after the retreat was ordered , the nights had begun to be cold , but the days remained brilliant . Now the rivers were shrouded in white mist , and still water was frozen .