General Kutusov waited two days before he gave the order to advance. As the Austrian columns advanced on the Pratzen Heights Napoleon gave the order to retreat. The men had been ordered to give the impression of being in a panic and they hurried from the enemy in a disordered mass. Several damaged guns and supply wagons were left behind to enhance the impression of a hasty retreat and the leading elements of the Russian and Austrian army jeered after the French as they took the abandoned positions on the Heights.

As the first day of December wore on, fine and bright, the French formed a line behind the Goldbach stream, facing the slopes now dominated by enemy troops. Napoleon was satisfied that he had played his hand as well as he could. From the vantage point of the Prazen Heights the French position would look weak and poorly defended. The looming mass of the Zurlan hill on the French left would easily conceal the corps of Lannes and Bernadotte, together with the Imperial Guard. From the enemy’s position it would seem that the enfeebled Grand Army was ripe for destruction.

All through the day Napoleon kept watch on the Heights, until at last, as the late afternoon sun began to sink towards the horizon, he started to pick out the dense columns of infantry moving opposite the centre and right of the French line.

‘There!’ He pointed the enemy out to Berthier. ‘I told you it would work. Send word for Davout and Bernadotte to join us at once. And issue a general order to the army. Let them know that there will be a battle tomorrow. Tell them that we shall win a great victory.’

‘Yes, sire.’

As night fell over the winter landscape Napoleon entertained his senior officers with a simple dinner at the inn in Bellowitz, a small village at the foot of the Zurlan hill. The main course, a steaming bowl of fried potatoes and onions, was consumed with relish and accompanied by some of the wine looted in Vienna. As they ate, reports continued to come in of the loom of campfires on the Heights, directly opposite the French centre, so there could be no doubt over the enemy’s intentions for the next day.Then, at midnight, Napoleon and his officers heard the beating of drums and wild cheering close at hand.

‘What’s that?’ Napoleon asked. ‘Berthier, find out what is going on.’

Berthier smiled. ‘Sire, have you forgotten?’

‘Forgotten?’

‘The date.’ Berthier pulled out his pocket watch. ‘It is past midnight, sire.’

‘So?’

‘It is the second of December. The first anniversary of your coronation.The men are celebrating.’

‘Of course,’ Napoleon replied quickly, angry with himself for letting such an important detail slip his mind. ‘Then I must let the men see their Emperor.’