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?’