The staff officer saluted and hurried away to do the Emperor’s bidding. By the time Berthier reached the room, bleary-eyed and dishevelled, Napoleon had read through most of the reports that had reached headquarters during the night. He lowered the steaming cup of coffee he had been drinking and tapped the sheaf of documents.
‘Have you seen these?’
Berthier twisted his head as he approached the table so that he might see the reports, and then nodded.‘The despatches from Marshal Davout. Yes, sire, I have read them.’
‘And what do you make of his claim to have defeated the main body of the enemy’s forces?’
Berthier was quiet for a moment as he tried to gauge the Emperor’s mood, and then spoke carefully.‘I have to say that I was sceptical at first, sire. But as I read more, it was clear that his assessment was backed by the reports sent in by his divisional commanders. It would appear that he is speaking the truth, sire.’
‘I see . . . So you believe that while nearly a hundred thousand men of the Grand Army were tied down here, taking on the enemy’s flank guard, Marshal Davout and his single corps attacked and defeated the main body of the Prussian army?’
‘That is what seems to have happened, sire. Based on those reports.’
‘Preposterous!’ Napoleon shoved the documents across the table in frustration. ‘It is not possible. Why, he even claims that he received no assistance from Bernadotte and his corps.’
‘Yes,’ Berthier said evenly. ‘If what he says is true, then Bernadotte disobeyed a direct order to march to Davout’s aid.That will require an investigation, sire.’
‘If it is true, then Bernadotte deserves to be court-martialled and shot,’ Napoleon decided. ‘Be that as it may, I cannot bring myself to believe the full extent of Davout’s claims. Why, if it were true, then he would have won a victory far greater than the one I achieved here yesterday. Is that not so?’
Berthier did not respond at once but raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly to one side as if he was considering a very complicated proposition.
Napoleon shook his head.‘No, the real victory was won here, at Jena. That is what people will say.’
‘Yes, sire. I imagine so.’
Napoleon eyed him coldly. ‘You imagine so?’
Berthier shifted uncomfortably but did not reply and Napoleon sighed with exasperation. He did not want to believe that one of his corps commanders had taken on the main Prussian army and won a victory that so clearly eclipsed his own. Yet all the evidence of the reports was that Davout had achieved precisely what he claimed to have done. There was no denying that the victory at Auerstadt was an astonishing achievement, and one that Napoleon could not help feeling a surge of jealousy over. Once word of Davout’s success spread through the army, and then across Europe, any attempt made by Napoleon to claim that the real glory was won on the field at Jena would be seen through at once as a petty attempt to outshine his subordinate. People would laugh at him, Napoleon reflected bitterly.There was no avoiding the painful humiliation that the true glory of the previous day belonged to Davout.Very well then, Napoleon resolved. He would be magnanimous and accord Marshal Davout the praise and recognition that was due. Besides, a show of respect for the man would be sure to play well with the rankers, and in the newspapers. By such gestures he would be seen to remain a man of the people, and not the petty despot and tyrant his enemies tried to depict him as.
Napoleon took a deep calming breath and eased himself back in his chair as he looked at Berthier. ‘Send Davout to me the moment he arrives.’>
‘Yes, sire.’
‘In the meantime, have the army newspapers prepare an article on the magnificent victory a handful of French soldiers achieved over an enemy army many times their strength. The writers are not to stint in their praise of Davout. You are to let them know that the Emperor himself pays his profound respect and gratitude to the marshal and adds his voice to the honour that the rest of the Grand Army bestows on Davout and his heroic men. Is that quite clear?’
Berthier nodded.
‘Then leave me. I must be shaved and properly dressed to receive France’s hero of the hour.’
Once Berthier had gone, Napoleon clenched his fists and gritted his teeth as he indulged in a seething rage over the mistake he had made in assuming that he had attacked and defeated the main Prussian army at Jena.The reasons behind the ready success of the previous day were now apparent and the words of triumph he had penned for the newspapers in Paris the night before now mocked him. Napoleon hurriedly searched through the morning paperwork left on the table for his signature until he found the despatch announcing the victory at Jena. He glanced over the neatly transcribed paragraphs and then folded the letter and tore it in half, and then again and again until there was only a scattering of paper fragments on the table.
Marshal Davout arrived at headquarters as Napoleon was finishing his breakfast and the Emperor instantly rose to his feet and thrust his napkin aside as he smiled at his subordinate.
‘Marshal Davout, it is a pleasure to greet the victor of Auerstadt! Please, sit down and join me. Coffee? Something to eat?’
‘Thank you, sire. Coffee would be most welcome.’
Once Napoleon had ordered a clerk to bring refreshments for the marshal, he glanced over at his guest. Davout had ridden through the night, and had not slept for three days. A thick stubble encrusted his cheeks and his eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. He eased himself stiffly into the chair opposite the Emperor and smiled wearily. ‘May I offer my congratulations to you, sire, on your victory here at Jena?’
Napoleon laughed.‘Two triumphs in one day. Providence was surely shining on French arms yesterday.’
‘Yes, sire.’
‘So tell me, Davout. What happened? According to Murat’s scouts you should have been facing a small corps protecting the enemy flank.’
‘Even Marshal Murat makes mistakes from time to time, sire,’ Davout replied wryly and they both smiled
