Chapters (61)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Chapter 1 - Napoleon
- Chapter 2 - April 1805
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4 - Arthur
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6 - Napoleon
- Chapter 7 - Paris, September 1805
- Chapter 8 - Strasbourg, 24 September 1805
- Chapter 9 - Ulm, 16 October 1805
- Chapter 10 - Arthur
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13 - Napoleon
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15 - Austerlitz, 2 December 1805
- Chapter 16 - Arthur
- Chapter 17 - Hastings, February 1806
- Chapter 18 - Dublin, April 1806
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20 - Napoleon
- Chapter 21 - Bamberg, 7 October 1806
- Chapter 22 - Jena, 13 October 1806
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24 - Warsaw, January 1807
- Chapter 25 - Eylau, 8 February 1807
- Chapter 26 - Arthur
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28 - Dublin, April 1807
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31 - Napoleon
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34 - Arthur
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38 - Napoleon
- Chapter 39 - Pamplona, February 1808
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42 - Arthur
- Chapter 43 - Mondego Bay, Portugal, 30 July 1808
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47 - Napoleon
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50 - Arthur
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52 - Napoleon
- Chapter 53 - Arthur
- Chapter 54 - Napoleon
- Chapter 55 - Arthur
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Author’s Note
‘At ease, Sergeant. You did well to challenge us. I’d have had you broken back to the ranks if you hadn’t. Now then, what is this unit?’
‘Sixty-third regiment of the line, sir. Dupont’s division.’
‘Dupont?’ Napoleon recalled that the previous day General Dupont’s four thousand men had attacked an enemy force four times their size in order to force a crossing of the Danube, and suffered heavy losses as a result. Now that he looked round the men of the picket, Napoleon could see that some of them were bandaged. Kicking his right foot from its stirrup, he swung his leg over the saddle and dismounted. He turned to face the sergeant, a huge man with several days’ growth of beard darkening his chin.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Sergeant Legros, sir.’
‘Legros, eh? And why do you not address your Emperor correctly? It is sire, not sir.’
‘If you please, sire, you were my general before you became my Emperor.’
‘Your general?’
‘I served with you in Italy, in ninety-five, sir . . . sire.’
‘Ah!’ Napoleon smiled and grasped the sergeant’s arms. ‘One of the first of my comrades. There are all too few of us left, Legros. And you may call me sir, if you wish.’
Legros smiled. ‘Yes, sir.’
Napoleon glanced round at the other men. ‘From the reports, your division had quite a fight.’
Legros nodded. ‘We buried some good men yesterday. But the enemy buried more.’
Napoleon nodded with satisfaction and then nodded towards the small fire burning a short distance down the road. In its glow a man was hunched over a cauldron stirring the contents with a long wooden ladle. ‘Would you share some soup with your general?’
‘It would be an honour, sir,’ Legros bowed his head and turned to lead Napoleon towards the fire. He called out to his corporal to take charge while he entertained the Emperor.With a quick gesture to one of his escort to take the reins of his horse, Napoleon strode quickly to catch him up. As they approached the man at the cauldron a number of other soldiers sat up. As soon as the first of them recognised the man at their sergeant’s side there was an excited whispering and they jumped to their feet and stiffened to attention.
Napoleon raised a hand to them. ‘Easy there! Just an old comrade come to warm himself at your fire, and share rations, if there is any soup to spare.’
As he stepped into the orange loom of the crackling blaze Legros took a battered bowl and spoon from his kit and proffered it to the Emperor. Even though rations were short, it was clear the sergeant felt honoured to share his supper with Napoleon.
‘Thank you.’ Napoleon took the bowl and turned to the man at the cauldron. ‘May I?’