The Generals

‘Berthier, call your men back, and whatever is left of the supply column down there. We’ll have to try something else, or try it again tomorrow night.’

Berthier gestured towards the fort.‘We’ll never take that place by force, sir. Perhaps we should have chosen a different route.’

Napoleon’s eyes narrowed as he replied, ‘What help is that observation to me now, eh? We are here, Berthier, and we concentrate our minds on what is before us. Nothing else matters. So, pull your men back, rest them, treat their wounds, and send them back against the fort tomorrow. As for the artillery, we’ll have to try again tonight. This time with just two guns. We’ll set off at midnight.’

‘We?’ Berthier looked at him sharply, his face dimly visible by the loom of the snow.

‘Yes. I’ll be going with the guns. I have to reach the vanguard as soon as possible.’

Berthier was silent for a moment, while he considered protesting that Napoleon should not take such a risk. But he knew his commander well enough to realise any such protests were pointless. They always had been since that suicidally brave charge at Arcola. Berthier nodded wearily. ‘Yes, sir.’

Napoleon turned away and softly crunched through the snow as he made his way down to the village of Bard where a room awaited him in the modest i

Napoleon pictured the map of the Alps and northern Italy, superimposing his forces on the landscape, and those of the enemy gleaned from the latest intelligence reports. He shook his head as he saw that the delay at Bard would give the enemy plenty of warning that the French army was attempting to cut across their communications with Austria. If they moved as slowly as they had done in the past, then there would still be time for Napoleon to concentrate his army and face the enemy on favourable terms. If, however, General Melas seized his chance, he could defeat the French forces piecemeal. The spectre of defeat haunted his thoughts and made rest, let alone sleep, impossible over the following hours.

Napoleon took a last look at the dark mass of the fortress looming above the ravine. The roar of ca

‘Time to go,’ he muttered to Junot. ‘Ready?’

Junot nodded.

Around them were the men of the hussar squadron Napoleon had chosen to act as his bodyguard while he rode to join La

He spurred his horse forward. Junot and the hussars followed him, and behind them the tackle and timber of the guns jingled as they slowly gathered speed and caught up with the trotting cavalry just as they emerged from the village on to the track ru

Napoleon steered his mount to the side and reined in.

‘Go! Go!’ he shouted to the hussars and then again to the artillery riders as they came up. Above them, flames flared up and once more a wicker bundle roared down the cliff. This time Napoleon was almost beneath it, and the sight was terrifying. He kicked his heels in and raced after the others, and there was a crackling thud and explosion of sparks as the bundle landed close behind him. Shots cracked from the wall above and he heard them whip down into the snow on either side as he leaned forward and rode on, urging his horse to gallop as fast as it could until he had passed beyond the loom of the burning wood and caught up with the others. More blazing bundles roared down towards them like fiery comets as they passed through the ravine, but they stayed just ahead of where the enemy guessed they must be and only one of the shots fired wildly into the darkness from the fortress struck home, into the haunch of one of the hussars’ horses. It reared up with a shrill whi

Once clear of the gorge they rode on for another half-mile, the ca

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

Napoleon gri

‘The thought crossed my mind.’

‘Ha!’ Napoleon reached over and slapped his friend on the shoulder. ‘Come on then. We must find La

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 ca

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 sca

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 Vie