Napoleon raised his arms and shouted with theatrical anger. ‘Quiet, you fools, or you will scare them off! Is that what you want? Or do you wish to show those cowards how Frenchmen fight?’ He paused a moment until every tongue was still. ‘The great test of the campaign is upon us.’

He was about to continue when a cannon sounded from the massed formations of the allied army. An instant later there was a terrible roar as the enemy guns opened fire and the concussion ripped through the air. Spouts of earth lifted from the ground and a shot passed close overhead with a deep whirr.

Napoleon cupped a hand to his mouth and shouted, ‘To arms! To arms!’

The gunners and the infantry rushed to their positions and a moment later the first of the French guns replied, crashing out as smoke billowed back through the embrasure. Napoleon climbed down from the caisson and hurried across to the rampart, and cautiously looked out through a wooden-framed viewing slit. An enemy column was quickly advancing along the side of the Great Garden towards the earthwork. Napoleon called over the captain commanding the nearest battery and pointed out the Austrians.

‘See them? Let them have some case shot.’

‘Yes, sire,’ the captain grinned, and turned back to give the order to his gun crews. They adjusted the angle of their guns with handspikes and loaded the thin tin cases filled with iron balls. When the sergeants indicated that their weapons were ready the officer raised his hand, and then swept it down as he bellowed the order to fire. The guns kicked back with the recoil and the embrasures were briefly lit up by the jets of fire leaping from the muzzles. Then the view was obliterated. Napoleon hurried across to an empty embrasure where he could see, through a swirling veil of smoke, the damage done by the battery. For the first twenty paces of the column hardly a man stood. The rest had been mown down and lay dead and wounded, spattered with blood. An officer standing to one side waved the following men past the mangled bodies and the column rippled round them as it continued towards the defences. The smoke still hung about the battery so that they fired their next shots blind, but even though one gun merely succeeded in blasting the branches of some trees in the Great Garden into a shower of shattered twigs and leaves, the other guns struck home, carving more gaps through the oncoming column.

‘Sire!’

Napoleon turned and saw Berthier approaching. He backed away from the embrasure and strode over to his aide. ‘What is it?’

‘The Guard has arrived, Sire. They are marching through the city now.’

‘Where is Ney?’

‘He is here, with Marshals Mortier and Murat, sire.’

‘Murat? What is Murat doing here?’

‘His cavalry is on the road to Dresden, sire. He rode ahead for orders.’