‘Ah.’Arthur felt his heart sink a little, already guessing at the contents of the letter. He hesitated a moment before taking it from his aide and breaking open the seal. Unfolding the sheets of paper he read through them quickly and then looked out over Lisbon, glowing in the light of the late afternoon sun.

‘Well, Somerset, it seems that my campaigning days may well be over.’

‘Over?’ Somerset frowned. ‘Why, sir? What’s happened?’

‘I have been summoned home immediately, to face a military inquiry. Generals Dalrymple and Burrard are to follow. General Sir John Moore is to assume command of the army. That’s something, at least. Moore is a fine officer, and he’ll keep his blade in the Frenchman’s back.’

‘I suppose so, sir.’ Somerset frowned. ‘But it isn’t fair, sir.You are not at fault.The whole army knows it.’

Arthur raised a hand to quiet his subordinate.‘I must defend my part in the treaty.You have to hand it to that fellow Kellermann. He outfoxed us.’ Arthur smiled bitterly as he recalled the manner in which he had been coerced into signing the armistice. ‘Me most of all.’

Chapter 47

Napoleon

Vitoria, November 1808

The journey across the Pyrenees had been chilly and wet, and even though he had spent most of the day huddled beneath heavy fur robes Napoleon felt as if the cold had penetrated through to every bone in his body. His sour mood was not helped by the many hours he had spent reflecting on developments across the empire. Junot had failed him in Portugal, and now a British army had a foothold in the Peninsula. The bitter anger he had felt at the news had slightly abated at the gratifying storm of outrage the terms of Junot’s treaty had caused in Britain. Napoleon could well imagine how it must have stuck in the throat of the British to have Junot’s army given free passage back to a French port aboard the vessels of the Royal Navy.The memory passed and his mood became sullen again. He had met the Tsar at Erfurt in October and it had soon become clear that the cordial warmth which had existed between the two rulers following the meeting at Tilsit little over a year earlier was waning.

Napoleon had made lavish arrangements for the meeting, filling Erfurt with the very best entertainers to be had across Europe. But behind the glittering ceremonies, the fine theatrical performances and the spectacular concerts, the hard business of striking deals had not gone the Emperor’s way.The Tsar was well aware of the difficulties Napoleon was facing in Spain. News of the loss of Portugal to the British and the defeat and surrender of General Dupont and his entire army to the Spanish at Bailén had echoed round Europe and given fresh hope to all who opposed France and her Emperor.

Accordingly, the Tsar had claimed that the Continental System was harming Russian commerce, and he argued that some concessions to trade with Britain had to be made. He had also demanded that Napoleon reduce the Prussian reparations by twenty million francs, and that Russian annexation of Finnish lands, as well as Moldavia and Wallachia, was recognised by France. Finally, the Tsar had made no secret of his designs to seize Constantinople and gain access to the Mediterranean from the Black Sea. In return for so many concessions by Napoleon, the Tsar had agreed to support Napoleon in the event of another war between Austria and France.

The reports from French spies in Austria were alarming. Every month more and more men were being recruited into the army. Hundreds of new artillery pieces were being cast and horse-buyers were travelling across Europe to secure the best mounts for the Austrians’ growing number of cavalry regiments. It was clear to Napoleon that these were preparations for war, and if Russia could be induced to declare her support for France in such a conflict then it was possible that the Austrians might be discouraged from taking the final step. But Alexander’s guarantees to France were unconvincing and Napoleon had little faith in his ally. The only good to come out of Erfurt was the appearance that the two rulers were still allies.

With his affairs in eastern Europe settled, for the moment at least, Napoleon concentrated his attention on Spain. Three of his finest marshals, Ney, Mortier and Victor, together with their veteran corps had been transferred from Germany to the Peninsula and it was these troops who formed the new Army of Spain. With such fine men at his back Napoleon was confident that it would require only a brief campaign to crush Spanish resistance and bring the entire Peninsula under French rule, in the person of King Joseph. Thought of his brother caused Napoleon to frown. Joseph had barely been in Madrid long enough to be crowned before he had abandoned his new capital and retreated. Clearly he lacked the ruthless streak that was necessary to cow the rebellious Spaniards.Yet Napoleon had set him on the Spanish throne and there was no question of replacing him, or letting him be driven out. Napoleon’s prestige was at stake and he was firmly resolved to teach Spain that her people could not be permitted to defy the will of the Emperor.

It was dark when the imperial convoy at last entered the gates of Vitoria and made its way through the streets to the citadel that served as the army’s headquarters. The four squadrons of lancers that had accompanied the Emperor’s carriage across the mountains clopped straight to the stables, where the frozen riders dismounted and rubbed their stiff backsides and tenderly stretched their legs.

Napoleon’s carriage lurched to a halt in front of a narrow flight of steps leading up into the central keep of the citadel.The steps were lined with soldiers in greatcoats carrying torches in place of their muskets. The steam from their breath puffed out in little clouds as the Emperor climbed stiffly from the carriage and made his way up the steps to the entrance of the keep. A small group of officers, led by Berthier, waited to greet him formally.

‘Sire, it is good to see you.’ Berthier bowed his head. ‘The army is keen to teach the Spanish a lesson.’

‘Good,’ Napoleon muttered. ‘That’s the spirit. Is everything prepared?’

‘Yes, sire. There’s food and wine in the hall and your quarters are ready to receive you . . .’

‘Be quiet,’ Napoleon said irritably.‘I meant is everything in readiness for the campaign?’

‘Apologies, sire. I will brief you after you have eaten and rested, if you wish.’

Napoleon shook his head.‘You can do it as I eat. Show me the way.’

Berthier led him inside the keep and Napoleon relished the warmth as they entered the great hall, where a large fire was blazing in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the chamber and its furniture. A large framed map hung on one wall and was illuminated by a lantern hanging from a stand.Taking off his cloak and handing it to a footman Napoleon approached the fire and held out his hands, smiling as the blaze began to warm him through. At length he turned away and made his way to the table where there were several platters of cold meats, cheese and bread. A bowl of soup steamed at one end. Napoleon summoned a footman and pointed out his requirements.