‘Inclined to it?’ Napoleon smiled coldly. ‘Why, the man is utterly devoted to himself.’

Berthier seemed about to respond, but thought better of it and clamped his jaw shut instead.

They watched as Bernadotte reined in his mount in front of a group of soldiers and began to berate them, thrusting his arm out towards the village. A handful of those closest to the marshal stopped and regarded him briefly before warily turning aside and hurrying on after their comrades. Bernadotte called after them, then spurred his horse into a gallop to attempt to get in front of his men again. Ahead of him the plain was covered with thousands of his Saxons, the foremost of whom were coming close to Napoleon and his staff. Berthier turned to the commander of the escort and ordered him to send his men forward to screen the Emperor. The lancers walked their mounts up and halted ten paces in front of Napoleon, in a loose line, and lowered the tips of their weapons. The fleeing Saxons began to flow to the sides to avoid the new danger. Marshal Bernadotte stopped a hundred paces away and drew his sword, turning on the Saxons.

‘Cowards!’ he shouted. ‘Stand your ground! Rally to me, damn you!’

He edged over towards the nearest of his men and slapped him across the shoulder with the flat of his sword. ‘Stand! Stand with me!’

Napoleon regarded him in a cold fury. Bernadotte had not only failed to stem the tide of his broken division, he had been the cause of the debacle in the first place by abandoning the village and obliging his men to attempt to retake it, with disastrous results. He had endangered not only his men but also the army’s battle plan. Taking a sharp intake of breath, Napoleon clicked his tongue and urged his horse forward.

‘Berthier, come with me. I want you to witness this.’

They walked their mounts between the lancers and on towards Bernadotte. The moment the marshal saw them, he sheathed his sword, took up his reins and trotted up to Napoleon. He saluted as he reined in.

‘Sire, I regret to inform you that the attack has failed.’ Bernadotte swept his arm up to indicate the fleeing Saxons.‘As you can see, my men have failed me.’

‘Really?’ Napoleon folded his hands over the saddle pommel as he glared at Bernadotte in contempt. ‘Tell me, Marshal, is this the special manoeuvre you were going to use to force Archduke Charles to lay down his arms?’

Bernadotte’s mouth sagged open, and then surprise gave way to anxiety as he recalled his bragging to the other marshals the night before and realised that Napoleon must have heard him. ‘Sire, I . . .’

‘Silence, Bernadotte!’ Napoleon snapped.‘You have failed me for the last time. You are herewith dismissed from command of your corps, which you have handled with such incompetence.’

‘Sire, no,’ Bernadotte protested, but Napoleon continued.