‘Yes, sire.’

Napoleon had turned away, and was about to go to his quarters and order a meal, when the staff officer addressed him again.

‘Sire! There’s a messenger waiting to see you. He has come straight from Marshal Davout at Auerstadt.’

‘Auerstadt?’ Napoleon turned back quickly. ‘Where is he?’

‘Waiting outside your quarters, sire.’

Napoleon strode away through the main hall of the hotel that had been commandeered for the temporary headquarters of the Grand Army. The place buzzed with the excitement of victory as the officers toasted each other with wine taken from the hotel’s cellar. Napoleon ignored them all as he climbed the stairs to the hotel’s best suite of rooms, which was serving as his personal quarters. An officer rose from a bench outside the door leading into the private dining room as Napoleon approached. He was spattered with mud and a bandage had been crudely tied about his head. Nevertheless, there was no hiding the triumphant gleam in his eye as he greeted his Emperor.

‘Sire, I have come from Marshal Davout.’

‘I know that.’ Napoleon waved a hand dismissively. ‘Make your report. Wait, who are you?’

‘Captain Tobriant, of Marshal Davout’s staff, sire.’

‘Very well, Tobriant. What news from Davout? Did he manage to contain the enemy’s flank guard?’

‘Flank guard?’ Captain Tobriant looked surprised. ‘Sire, I don’t think you understand. Marshal Davout begs to inform you that he met with the main body of the Prussian army on the Auerstadt road and defeated it today.’

Chapter 23

Napoleon stared at him for a moment and then shook his head. ‘What nonsense is this? The main Prussian army fought us here at Jena.’

Captain Tobriant’s exultant expression faded. ‘Sire, Marshal Davout estimates that his corps faced more than sixty thousand Prussians today.’

‘Sixty thousand?’ Napoleon laughed. ‘Impossible! How could Davout have defeated so many? Why, that would mean he was outnumbered by more than two to one.’

‘Yes, sire. That’s right.’ Tobriant nodded, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a slim despatch. ‘His report, sire.’

Napoleon took the document and hurriedly broke the seal, unfolded it and read through the briefly recounted details. Then he lowered the report and glanced up at Tobriant. ‘This can’t be true.Your commander is seeing double. He could not possibly have overcome such odds. The real battle was here. The victory is mine. Mine. Davout’s fight was merely a flank action. Does he think he can usurp my glory?’

Captain Tobriant opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it as he made his reply. ‘Sire, you have Marshal Davout’s report. I can only say that I witnessed the battle from his headquarters, close enough to the fighting to be wounded by a spent musket ball. I know what I saw, sire, and Marshal Davout speaks the truth.’

‘Then he must be a fool,’ Napoleon snapped. ‘You return to him at once and tell him to present himself here first thing in the morning when he can make a more sober, and accurate, account of his . . . skirmish.’

‘Skirmish?’ Tobriant looked astonished for a moment before he recovered his composure. ‘I will go and report to him, sire.’

Napoleon dismissed Tobriant and entered the dining room, where he sat down at the long table. He called for his secretaries and ordered food to be brought to him.While he ate he dictated a despatch to be sent to Paris immediately to let France know of the great victory that had been won over the Prussians at Jena.Then there were orders to be written so that the army might take advantage of the situation and make a rapid advance on Berlin to end the war.As he dictated, the first of the detailed reports from Davout’s headquarters arrived. Reading the tally of enemy and French losses, as well as the description of the battle at Auerstadt, Napoleon began to wonder if he had judged Davout too hastily.

It had been some days since Napoleon had last slept well and towards midnight exhaustion finally got the better of him: he fell asleep, head cradled in his arms as he slumped over the table. Berthier waited a moment to see if he would stir, and then quietly rose up and fetched a thick coat from one of the pegs by the door and gently placed it over his shoulders as he began to snore.Then he ushered the secretaries from the room and, with a last glance at his master, followed them out and shut the door behind him.

Napoleon woke with a start as the first rays of the dawn filtered into the room.Tossing the coat aside he stood up and rolled his neck cautiously until the stiffness had worn out of his spine.Then he strode to the door and pulled it open.

‘Berthier!’ he called out into the corridor. Receiving no reply, he pointed at a passing staff officer. ‘You there! Where is Berthier?’

‘Sire, he has just retired to his room to rest.’

‘Then wake him up and send him to me at once.’

‘Yes, sire.’

‘And then have the latest reports from Davout and Bernadotte brought to me.’

The staff officer saluted and hurried away to do the Emperor’s bidding. By the time Berthier reached the room, bleary-eyed and dishevelled, Napoleon had read through most of the reports that had reached headquarters during the night. He lowered the steaming cup of coffee he had been drinking and tapped the sheaf of documents.

‘Have you seen these?’

Berthier twisted his head as he approached the table so that he might see the reports, and then nodded.‘The despatches from Marshal Davout. Yes, sire, I have read them.’

‘And what do you make of his claim to have defeated the main body of the enemy’s forces?’

Berthier was quiet for a moment as he tried to gauge the Emperor’s mood, and then spoke carefully.‘I have to say that I was sceptical at first, sire. But as I read more, it was clear that his assessment was backed by the reports sent in by his divisional commanders. It would appear that he is speaking the truth, sire.’

‘I see . . . So you believe that while nearly a hundred thousand men of the Grand Army were tied down here, taking on the enemy’s flank guard, Marshal Davout and his single corps attacked and defeated the main body of the Prussian army?’

‘That is what seems to have happened, sire. Based on those reports.’

‘Preposterous!’ Napoleon shoved the documents across the table in frustration. ‘It is not possible. Why, he even claims that he received no assistance from Bernadotte and his corps.’

‘Yes,’ Berthier said evenly. ‘If what he says is true, then Bernadotte disobeyed a direct order to march to Davout’s aid.That will require an investigation, sire.’

‘If it is true, then Bernadotte deserves to be court-martialled and shot,’ Napoleon decided. ‘Be that as it may, I cannot bring myself to believe the full extent of Davout’s claims. Why, if it were true, then he would have won a victory far greater than the one I achieved here yesterday. Is that not so?’