bellowed out. ‘Who goes there?’
Napoleon was riding with a handful of staff and six cavalrymen from the guard, one of whom now bristled angrily at the challenge and stood erect in his stirrups to shout a reply.
‘The Emperor!’
There was a brief silence before the voice called back. ‘Bollocks! What’s the password?’
The guardsman swore under his breath and then bellowed, ‘Move aside, you fools, before we ride you down!’
‘That’s enough!’ Napoleon snapped. ‘They’re only doing their duty.’
The guardsman stiffened. ‘Sorry, sire. But they shouldn’t address the imperial party like that.’
‘Really?’ Napoleon smiled wearily.‘Do you know what the password is?’
The guardsman breathed in sharply and hissed, ‘No, sire.’
‘Why not?’
The Emperor did not wait for a reply from his shamed escort, but spurred his horse on and trotted towards the line of dark figures barring his path, warily watching the dull gleam of their raised bayonets. His escort hurried after Napoleon as he reined in a short distance from the picket.
‘And who are you?’ asked Napoleon.
‘Fuck me,’ the voice muttered. ‘It is him!’ A moment later a burly sergeant stepped forward and saluted.
‘Sorry, sir. But we had to chase off some Austrian dragoons earlier today. Can’t be too careful.’
‘At ease, Sergeant. You did well to challenge us. I’d have had you broken back to the ranks if you hadn’t. Now then, what is this unit?’
‘Sixty-third regiment of the line, sir. Dupont’s division.’
‘Dupont?’ Napoleon recalled that the previous day General Dupont’s four thousand men had attacked an enemy force four times their size in order to force a crossing of the Danube, and suffered heavy losses as a result. Now that he looked round the men of the picket, Napoleon could see that some of them were bandaged. Kicking his right foot from its stirrup, he swung his leg over the saddle and dismounted. He turned to face the sergeant, a huge man with several days’ growth of beard darkening his chin.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Sergeant Legros, sir.’
‘Legros, eh? And why do you not address your Emperor correctly? It is sire, not sir.’
‘If you please, sire, you were my general before you became my Emperor.’
‘Your general?’
‘I served with you in Italy, in ninety-five, sir . . . sire.’
‘Ah!’ Napoleon smiled and grasped the sergeant’s arms. ‘One of the first of my comrades. There are all too few of us left, Legros. And you may call me sir, if you wish.’
Legros smiled. ‘Yes, sir.’
Napoleon glanced round at the other men. ‘From the reports, your division had quite a fight.’
Legros nodded. ‘We buried some good men yesterday. But the enemy buried more.’
Napoleon nodded with satisfaction and then nodded towards the small fire burning a short distance down the road. In its glow a man was hunched over a cauldron stirring the contents with a long wooden ladle. ‘Would you share some soup with your general?’
‘It would be an honour, sir,’ Legros bowed his head and turned to lead Napoleon towards the fire. He called out to his corporal to take charge while he entertained the Emperor.With a quick gesture to one of his escort to take the reins of his horse, Napoleon strode quickly to catch him up. As they approached the man at the cauldron a number of other soldiers sat up. As soon as the first of them recognised the man at their sergeant’s side there was an excited whispering and they jumped to their feet and stiffened to attention.
Napoleon raised a hand to them. ‘Easy there! Just an old comrade come to warm himself at your fire, and share rations, if there is any soup to spare.’
As he stepped into the orange loom of the crackling blaze Legros took a battered bowl and spoon from his kit and proffered it to the Emperor. Even
Napoleon was riding with a handful of staff and six cavalrymen from the guard, one of whom now bristled angrily at the challenge and stood erect in his stirrups to shout a reply.
‘The Emperor!’
There was a brief silence before the voice called back. ‘Bollocks! What’s the password?’
The guardsman swore under his breath and then bellowed, ‘Move aside, you fools, before we ride you down!’
‘That’s enough!’ Napoleon snapped. ‘They’re only doing their duty.’
The guardsman stiffened. ‘Sorry, sire. But they shouldn’t address the imperial party like that.’
‘Really?’ Napoleon smiled wearily.‘Do you know what the password is?’
The guardsman breathed in sharply and hissed, ‘No, sire.’
‘Why not?’
The Emperor did not wait for a reply from his shamed escort, but spurred his horse on and trotted towards the line of dark figures barring his path, warily watching the dull gleam of their raised bayonets. His escort hurried after Napoleon as he reined in a short distance from the picket.
‘And who are you?’ asked Napoleon.
‘Fuck me,’ the voice muttered. ‘It is him!’ A moment later a burly sergeant stepped forward and saluted.
‘Sorry, sir. But we had to chase off some Austrian dragoons earlier today. Can’t be too careful.’
‘At ease, Sergeant. You did well to challenge us. I’d have had you broken back to the ranks if you hadn’t. Now then, what is this unit?’
‘Sixty-third regiment of the line, sir. Dupont’s division.’
‘Dupont?’ Napoleon recalled that the previous day General Dupont’s four thousand men had attacked an enemy force four times their size in order to force a crossing of the Danube, and suffered heavy losses as a result. Now that he looked round the men of the picket, Napoleon could see that some of them were bandaged. Kicking his right foot from its stirrup, he swung his leg over the saddle and dismounted. He turned to face the sergeant, a huge man with several days’ growth of beard darkening his chin.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Sergeant Legros, sir.’
‘Legros, eh? And why do you not address your Emperor correctly? It is sire, not sir.’
‘If you please, sire, you were my general before you became my Emperor.’
‘Your general?’
‘I served with you in Italy, in ninety-five, sir . . . sire.’
‘Ah!’ Napoleon smiled and grasped the sergeant’s arms. ‘One of the first of my comrades. There are all too few of us left, Legros. And you may call me sir, if you wish.’
Legros smiled. ‘Yes, sir.’
Napoleon glanced round at the other men. ‘From the reports, your division had quite a fight.’
Legros nodded. ‘We buried some good men yesterday. But the enemy buried more.’
Napoleon nodded with satisfaction and then nodded towards the small fire burning a short distance down the road. In its glow a man was hunched over a cauldron stirring the contents with a long wooden ladle. ‘Would you share some soup with your general?’
‘It would be an honour, sir,’ Legros bowed his head and turned to lead Napoleon towards the fire. He called out to his corporal to take charge while he entertained the Emperor.With a quick gesture to one of his escort to take the reins of his horse, Napoleon strode quickly to catch him up. As they approached the man at the cauldron a number of other soldiers sat up. As soon as the first of them recognised the man at their sergeant’s side there was an excited whispering and they jumped to their feet and stiffened to attention.
Napoleon raised a hand to them. ‘Easy there! Just an old comrade come to warm himself at your fire, and share rations, if there is any soup to spare.’
As he stepped into the orange loom of the crackling blaze Legros took a battered bowl and spoon from his kit and proffered it to the Emperor. Even
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