‘Very well.’ Napoleon turned to Soult. ‘Recall the reserves and have them formed up to the right of the inn. We have one last chance to finish Welligton. There.’ He pointed to the ridge, where the cavalry had charged earlier. The artillery that Ney had brought forward had annihilated two brigades of Dutch troops sent forward to retake the farmhouse of La Haye Sainte, and were now tearing into the nearest British formations.

‘Order every available man forward,’ Napoleon ordered. ‘Turn every gun on to the enemy.’

The weary men of d’Erlon’s corps and those of General Reille who had rallied to their standards cheered the nine battalions of the Guard that had been ordered to advance. With drums beating the veterans stepped out proudly, the grenadiers in their tall bearskins leading the way, while four batteries of horse guns followed the formation. Napoleon strode to his horse and a groom helped him up into the saddle. Taking the reins he spurred his mount into a trot and made his way down the road before cutting across to take up position ahead of the Guard. His heart filled with a defiant pride as he approached the bottom of the vale and began the approach to the ridge.

A drumming of hooves to his left made Napoleon turn to look and he saw Ney galloping across towards him, followed by the handful of staff officers who had survived the earlier charges.

‘Sire, what are you doing?’ Ney frowned as he reined in beside the Emperor.

‘I am doing what I should have done from the start of the battle. Leading my men from the front.’

‘You will be killed, sire.’

‘It is possible.’

‘You must not fall here, sire. For the sake of France. While you live, there is hope.’

‘Hope? What hope?’ Napoleon asked blankly.

Ney leaned over and took the reins from him. For an instant Napoleon was tempted to snatch them back, but he hesitated. Then his resolve to lead the final attack of the day, perhaps the final attack of his life, faded.

‘Take the Emperor back to the inn,’ Ney ordered, handing the reins to one of his aides, who led the horse back through the gap between the two leading battalions of the Guards. One of the veterans raised a cheer. ‘Long live Napoleon!’ and the others joined in at once, and continued until he had passed through the formation. Then they set their faces towards the ridge and fell silent as they marched forward.

‘Stop,’ Napoleon ordered Ney’s aide. ‘I command you.’