By the time word arrived at headquarters to announce that the men had boarded their vessels and the review was ready to begin, the rain was lashing down across the coast and the sea was a heaving mass of lead-coloured waves, fringed with white caps and spume where the wind carried off the spray. The barges, under heavily reefed sails, and towing launches, battled to keep their stations as the flotilla prepared to sail past the imperial pavilion on the beach. Napoleon and his staff, wrapped in oilskins and clasping their hats on their heads with their hands, made their way down through the cobbled streets of the port and out along the strip of sand and shingle to the pavilion.

‘Wild weather, sire,’ said Berthier.‘I wouldn’t fancy being out on the sea in this storm.’

‘Storm?’ Napoleon laughed. ‘This is no storm, Berthier. Merely an unseasonable spell of bad weather. It’ll soon pass, you’ll see.’

‘I hope so, sire. For the sake of our men.’

‘A little seasickness never hurt anyone. Besides, they must be prepared to make the crossing in whatever weather there may be when our fleet arrives to clear the Channel.’

They reached the steps to the viewing platform and climbed on to the stage, which overlooked the beach and the sea beyond. In this slightly elevated position the wind was even stronger and the Emperor and his staff officers were forced to squint into the driving rain blowing in off the sea. Napoleon turned to the newly promoted naval commander. ‘You may begin, Admiral Magon.’

‘Yes, sire.’ Magon nodded to the signals officer and a moment later the telegraph arms above the pavilion swung into place to pass on the order to the flotilla.There was a delay as the sailors on the leading barge scrambled aloft from the crowded deck and shook out a reef. Slowly the vessel got under way and cautiously crossed in front of the pavilion before approaching the shore, while the other barges struggled to follow in the heaving seas. One by one they lurched forward across the waves in a straggling line, and then hove to half a league from the pounding surf. At once they dropped anchor, hauled in their sails and swung head into the wind.

Napoleon gestured to Admiral Magon. ‘Is this the usual practice, anchoring so far from shore?’

Magon nodded swiftly. ‘Of course, sire. Under such conditions the barges’ commanders dare not come any nearer to a lee shore.’

‘So what happens now?’

‘The unloading of the troops will begin.’

Berthier raised his telescope and watched as the longboats pitched up and down as they were hauled alongside the barges. He drew a sharp breath. ‘Is it safe?’

Magon swallowed nervously and risked a quick glance at his Emperor before responding. ‘I’m sure it’s safe enough, sir. In any case, the Emperor has ordered it.’

‘That’s right,’ Napoleon affirmed evenly. ‘And we will proceed with the unloading. The men are more than able to cope in these weather conditions. Isn’t that so, Admiral?’

‘Yes, sire. My officers are in no doubt about what they must do.’

‘Good.Then let’s see how they handle it.’

Napoleon and his staff fixed their attention on the nearest vessel as the sailors hauled a launch alongside and held it in position with lines and boathooks as the first of the soldiers clambered down the side of the barge. The launch lurched up and caught three men just as they stepped into it, sending two tumbling into the bottom of the boat while the third fell over the side with a splash. He was seen to struggle for a moment, arms waving desperately, then a wave passed over him, sweeping him away, and he was lost from sight.As more soldiers boarded the launch, another two men were lost, and then, at last, the sailors pushed the boat away from the barge and unshipped their oars. But as the wind carried the launch away it turned side on to an oncoming wave and capsized. The staff officers around Napoleon gasped, but he continued to watch without expression as a handful of survivors clung to the bottom of the boat, which floated low in the water like the back of a whale.

‘Sweet Jesus,’ Berthier muttered. ‘Those poor bastards.’

‘Yes,’ Napoleon said tonelessly. ‘Let’s see if we have any better luck with the next boat.’

Fortunately, the soldiers from the barge managed to board without incident and the sailors turned the launch smartly into the shore and rowed for their lives.The third boat was not so lucky, and a chaotic surge of foam along the side of the hull swamped her just as she was cast off, carrying away some of the men aboard before the rest panicked as the boat sank into the sea beneath them.Those who could swim struck out for the side of the barge a short distance away.The rest went down with the launch.

Berthier shook his head in horror. ‘Sire, we must put a stop to this.’

‘No. They handled it badly. The men in the other ships will learn from their example.’

Berthier rounded on his Emperor. ‘It is not their fault. That sea is wild.Too wild for any man.’

‘But not them, it seems.’ Napoleon gestured to the tiny distant gleam of the sails of the British frigate keeping watch over the French exercise. ‘If they can cope so far out to sea then surely our men can manage to cover the short distance to the shore?’

‘But, sire . . .’ Desperately, Berthier looked round the other officers for some support, but most avoided his gaze and those that did not hurriedly glanced away, not daring to defy the Emperor. Berthier turned helplessly towards Napoleon. ‘We are doing murder, sire. Signal the ships to end the exercise. I beg you.’

‘Berthier!’ Napoleon snapped. ‘You forget yourself. How dare you challenge my authority? You are to return to headquarters at once.’

‘But sire—’

‘At once!’ Napoleon balled his hands into fists. ‘At once, do you hear?’

Berthier stared back for a moment and then his gaze wavered. ‘As you wish.’

He turned and strode away through the ranks of the silent officers standing behind Napoleon as the latter glanced back towards the sea. The surviving launch had made it as far as the surf and the sailors timed their oar strokes carefully before putting in a spurt as a large wave lifted the boat and carried it towards the beach.The launch grounded heavily and swerved slightly to one side as the terrified soldiers clambered out, splashed into the surf and ran from the sea. Napoleon noted sourly that some had even abandoned their muskets in their haste. A fresh wave caught the stern quarter of the launch and rolled it over on to the last of the men still aboard, crushing them underneath.

To one side, Napoleon heard a sharp intake of breath as Admiral Magon watched the unfolding disaster. Then the Emperor turned his gaze to the other barges stretching out behind the vessel he had been watching. Many more boats had capsized or floundered and hundreds of men were in the heaving waves, fighting for their lives as their heavy clothes and equipment dragged them down. Less than half the launches reached the shore, and as the dazed soldiers staggered out of the surf the officers and sergeants that remained tried to form them up in their companies on the rain-slick sand. Half an hour after the attempted landing had begun the remains of the division stood shivering, while behind them those men who had managed to swim ashore crawled out of the reach of the waves, exhausted.