Once clear of the gorge they rode on for another half-mile, the cannon jolting across the rough track, and then Napoleon gave the order to slow down and continue at a walk. He paused, with Junot, to look back towards the fortress.

‘We did it!’ Junot shook his head in wonder. ‘We did it, sir.’

Napoleon grinned. ‘Did you ever really doubt that we would?’

‘The thought crossed my mind.’

‘Ha!’ Napoleon reached over and slapped his friend on the shoulder. ‘Come on then. We must find Lannes and get these guns to him.’

As June began, over fifty thousand of Napoleon’s men had crossed the Alps and were massing north of the River Po.The fort at Bard was still holding up his artillery train and the army had only a handful of cannon that had survived the hazardous passage of the gorge.A few more cannon had been taken from the enemy garrisons following the capture of Ivrea, Pavia and Milan. As Napoleon entered the city the Milanese turned out in their thousands to cheer the arrival of the French army.

Napoleon turned to Junot with a smile. ‘Seems that any grievances they might have nursed from the last time I was here have been forgotten.’

Junot nodded as he gazed warily round at the crowd. ‘Let’s hope they remain friendly long enough for us to defeat the Austrians.’

‘Of course. Now smile and wave at your adoring public, as any good liberator should.’

The following night, as Napoleon and his staff settled into the mansion formerly occupied by the Austrian governor of the city, a messenger arrived from Murat, scouting ahead of the main army with his light cavalry. The hussar was exhausted and mudstained, and as he took the dispatch from the man Napoleon ordered that he be fed and given good accommodation for the night. Once the messenger had gone, he returned to the dining table where the staff officers were noisily celebrating the capture of Milan: the latest prize to fall to the French army in this campaign that seemed to be succeeding so gloriously once they had left the Alps behind them.Their spirits were even higher now that Desaix had joined them, and was entertaining his comrades with tales of his adventures in Egypt.

Napoleon broke the seal and quickly scanned the contents.

He read it again, more slowly, before folding it and setting it down on the table. Picking up his fork he rapped the side of the tureen in front of him. The conversation died away instantly and the gold-braided officers turned towards him, some still smiling.

‘Gentlemen, Murat has captured some dispatches sent from General Melas to Vienna. It seems that General Masséna has been obliged to surrender Genoa.’

There was a brief silence before General Lannes thumped his fist down, clattering the cutlery and dishes around him. ‘Shit!’