Soult hurried to his horse, mounted and rode down into the mist. All was still to Napoleon’s immediate front. Over to the right the firing had intensified once again as yet another enemy attack was thrust home. Napoleon nodded with grim satisfaction. There were sure to be heavy casualties in Legrand’s division, but it was necessary if the enemy were to be lured into the trap he had set for them. A trumpet blared out from the mist at the bottom of the slope and a moment later the deep rattle and boom of drums announced the advance of Vandamme’s and St-Hilaire’s divisions. There was something quite otherworldly about the shouted orders, beating of drums and throaty roars of ‘Long live the Emperor!’ when there was still nothing to see. Then the first spectral shapes began to emerge from the mist, the dispersed screen of skirmishers advancing ahead of the main columns. Perhaps a hundred paces behind them came the colours of the leading units, followed by the dense mass of infantry striding up the slope. Sunlight glinted off the gilded eagles atop their standards, and the bristling mass of bayonets, and the men cried out again,‘Long live the Emperor! Long live Napoleon!’

‘They’re cheerful enough,’ Napoleon mused.

‘So they should be, sire,’ Berthier replied. ‘Soult saw to it that they had three issues of spirits before they formed up.’

‘Three issues?’ Napoleon shook his head slightly. ‘God, I pity the Russians and Austrians once those men get in amongst them.’

The two divisions cleared the mist and climbed the slope up to the Heights at a brisk pace. Too brisk, Napoleon thought. No point in reaching the crest out of breath and unable to fight.As the two divisions approached the Heights the skirmishers exchanged fire with the first line of enemy soldiers. Tiny puffs pricked out along the edge of the Heights before the Austrians disappeared behind a bank of smoke as they fired a massed volley. A moment later the sound, a sharp rattle, carried across to Napoleon’s command post. Calling one of the orderlies over to him, Napoleon rested the end of his telescope on the man’s shoulder and watched as the skirmishers fell back around the advancing divisions. The right hand division, commanded by General St-Hilaire, angled towards the village of Pratzen. As the leading troops entered the village Napoleon glimpsed, through the smoke, a small force of Austrians hurriedly trotting back along the Heights towards the village and he allowed himself a smile. Even though General Kutusov was aware of the threat to his centre he would not have time to do much about it.

Napoleon glanced round at Berthier. ‘Now is the time for our left flank to go forward. Give the order.’

‘Yes, sire.’