The Generals

Chapter 62

Napoleon

Paris, July 1800

‘I gave them a great victory!’ Napoleon slammed his fist down on the desk. ‘What more do they want of me?’

The First Consul and his closest advisers had just returned to the Luxembourg Palace after the celebrations of the anniversary of the fall of the Bastile. There had been the usual parades by the National Guard units, a few speeches to remember those who gave their lives for the revolution, and then the entry into the arena of over a hundred of the veterans of Marengo. Lucien had planned the moment carefully. The men wore tattered uniforms, some were bandaged, and they carried the colours of the Austrian regiments that had surrendered in the rout that followed Desaix’s heroic counter-attack. When the soldiers appeared the band struck up a specially composed piece of uplifting music, and the tens of thousands of Parisians who had gathered to watch the spectacle were supposed to burst into wild patriotic cheers. Instead they remained stonily silent and the final fanfare sounded flat and false as the notes faded. Napoleon had barely been able to contain his fury as the carriages made their way back to the palace, and finally gave vent to his rage as they entered the First Consul’s private apartments. Lucien, Talleyrand and Fouché had sat still through the tirade and now waited a moment to be sure that the storm had run its course before daring to respond.

Lucien kept his voice calm as he answered. ‘Victories are all very well, but the people want peace, brother.’

‘Peace?’ Napoleon pressed a hand over his heart. ‘Don’t they understand that I want peace too? There is no man in France who yearns for peace more than I do. But we can only have peace once our enemies are defeated. At the moment they will not accept anything less than the restoration of the Bourbons and the destruction of all that the revolution has achieved.’

Talleyrand coughed lightly and Napoleon rounded on him with a cynical smile. ‘Are you ill, or is it that you have something to say?’

‘Citizen Consul, I am merely concerned about the notion of having peace only when our enemies are defeated.’

‘Really? I would have thought it was axiomatic.’

‘There is another way. We must negotiate a peace.’

Napoleon sighed wearily. ‘That’s precisely what we are trying to do. Even with their armies defeated and an armistice agreed, the Austrians are delaying moves towards signing a peace treaty at every opportunity.’

‘They will see reason, in time,’ Talleyrand offered.

‘If they don’t see the gleam of English gold first, to lure them back into war.’

‘Precisely,’ Talleyrand countered. ‘The problem is England. While we are at war with England there will be no prospect of peace for France. We must deal with England.’

‘Oh, we’ll deal with them all right.’ Napoleon nodded. ‘The moment we land a French army on their shores. We’ll dictate peace terms from their houses of Parliament.’

‘You misunderstand me, Citizen Consul. I meant that we must deal with them in the sense of making peace with England.’

‘Oh.’ Napoleon looked disappointed. ‘But there can be no chance of peace while Pitt is Prime Minister.That man has made the destruction of our revolution his life’s mission. He denies us peace, and is prepared to ruin his country to bribe other nations to oppose us.’

‘True,’ Talleyrand conceded. ‘So we must wait until he is replaced, and, provided that we proceed shrewdly, that could happen rather sooner than you might suppose.’

Napoleon narrowed his eyes. ‘Explain yourself.’

‘England’s strength relies on her trade. She needs customers for her goods, so we must attack her trade in order to hurt her enough to compel her to negotiate.’

‘How?’ Lucien asked. ‘You know the state of our navy. Most of our fleet is laid up, the best officers fled during the revolution, and man for man, ship for ship, they are no match for the Royal Navy.’ He glanced at Napoleon.‘That was made perfectly clear at Aboukir Bay.’

‘Thank you for reminding me,’ Napoleon replied coldly.

‘Then we don’t attack their sea trade,’ Talleyrand continued. ‘We cut them off from their customers instead. We make treaties and alliances with whatever nations we can, and at the same time we make sure that we use our diplomatic contacts to undermine England at every opportunity.’

‘Easier said than done,’ Fouché muttered.

Talleyrand turned to him with a faintly amused expression. ‘You surprise me, citizen. I had thought you and your agents have had commendable success in your efforts to undermine and slander the opponents of the consulate. I merely wish to imitate your methods on the diplomatic stage.’

As Fouché frowned Napoleon struggled to hide a smile and nodded to the foreign minister. ‘Go on.’

‘We must move quickly, while the example of Marengo is fresh in the minds of the rulers of Europe. Spain is weak, and will bow to pressure to return to France the territories she seized in North America. She is also concerned about English rivalry in the Americas and the Pacific ocean.We might yet persuade King Carlos to join us in the war against England. Prussia has no desire to echo the Austrian defeats and, in any case, they are rivals for control over the German principalities. The Tsar of Russia is furious about England’s claiming the right to search all ships at sea. My agents in St Petersburg say that Tsar Paul is even now trying to coax the Prussians into a joint war against England for that reason alone. Even America is losing patience with the Royal Navy’s interference with their shipping. Of course, while England is allied with Austria, that means the Tsar will be obliged to fight Austria as well. So, as you can see, the international situation is replete with advantages for us to seize.’ Talleyrand clasped his hands together. ‘If we can make peace with Austria, and put our efforts into diplomacy, then we can isolate England. In time she will be forced to accept peace on our terms.’

‘You make it sound easy,’ Napoleon remarked.

‘I did not say it would be easy, Citizen Consul. But it will work.’

Napoleon nodded thoughtfully. Talleyrand’s advice made sense. And his scheme had the virtue of granting Napoleon time to reorganise and rebuild France’s exhausted armies for when they were needed again - as he had no doubt they would be. Until England was utterly crushed, any peace treaty would be little more than a breathing space before the struggle continued. But France desperately needed a period of peace. The mood of the public earlier that day was eloquent proof of that, and Napoleon’s mind turned from the wider sphere to the more immediate problems within France’s borders.

‘Very well, Talleyrand. Do all that you can to isolate England. That is the goal of our foreign policy from here on, and every other consideration is subordinate to that aim. Clear?’

‘Yes, Citizen Consul.’

‘Good. Then while our diplomats do their work abroad, we shall provide proof of our desire for peace here in France.We will make a new nation. We will consolidate the gains of the revolution so that our enemies see the futility of their desire to restore the Bourbons and all that they stand for. And we must convince our people that they have a stake in the future of France. All our people.’

‘What do you mean by all?’ asked Lucien.

‘I mean that we cannot succeed unless we resolve those issues that divide the French people.’

Lucien stirred uncomfortably. ‘There are good reasons why the people are divided, brother. Class, religion and politics are the very stuff of society. And there are those who are for the revolution and those who are against. It is our duty to see that the latter are suppressed and eventually eradicated.’

Napoleon sighed. ‘Can’t you see? That will never happen. As long as we drive people into the ranks of those who oppose us, France will never be at peace with itself. The process of revolution will never end. We will always see enemies about us, and be locked into one bloody purge after another.’

‘Then what are you saying?’ Lucien asked suspiciously.

Napoleon stared at him for a moment before replying. ‘Perhaps it is time that the revolution came to an end. Perhaps it is time that we embraced those who opposed the revolution.’

‘We once called them enemies of the people.’

‘But they are the people,’ Napoleon countered earnestly.‘They always were, even when the Committee of Public Safety was drawing a line between those who supported the revolution and those who opposed it. That was the Committee’s mistake. There was hardly a peasant in the land who was not a revolutionary, until the Committee turned their sights on the church. The moment they began to attack the priests, they drove a wedge between their own supporters. It is the same with the nobility. Many of them were radicals, yet because of their birth they were branded enemies of the people.’ Napoleon uttered the last phrase with contempt. ‘It was the same in Corsica, Lucien. You remember how our people embraced the revolution? You recall those times at the Jacobin club in Ajaccio?’

‘I remember.’

Napoleon smiled. ‘Every one of us was a fervent radical . . . until the French government decided to suppress our Corsican identity. They lost Corsica because they did not embrace us as Corsicans. Such a little thing, and yet, people being people, there was a conflict where there never should have been one.That was the great mistake. That is what we must resolve.’

Lucien shrugged.‘How? There has been too much blood shed for people to even imagine resolving their differences.’

Napoleon knew that Lucien was right. But unless they tried to draw the French people back together their foreign enemies would not be able to resist exploiting the issues of religion and class that divided France. As long as there were émigrés who claimed to speak on behalf of the downtrodden church and nobility, then France would be at war with itself even as it was at war with other nations.That must end, Napoleon decided firmly, before France devoured itself and left England gloating over the ravaged carcass of its longtime enemy.

‘So, then, what do you propose, Napoleon? An amnesty for the priests and aristos?’

Napoleon took a deep breath. ‘I propose that we abolish the laws proscribing the nobles and allow them to return to France. Furthermore, we return their property to them.’

‘Not the land already in the hands of the peasants, surely? If we did that there’d be another revolution. One we’d not survive.’

‘Very well,’ Napoleon conceded.‘We return as much property as we can. And one other thing. We must make a treaty with the Church of Rome.’

‘What kind of treaty?’

‘We have to restore the church in France.’

‘Are you mad, brother? After all that the church has done to the common people over the centuries? After all the money it has taken from their purses? After all the food it has taken from their mouths? The radicals would not stand for it. In case you hadn’t noticed, most of those radicals happen to be in the army. Are you prepared to put their loyalty to the test?’

‘No.That is why any such treaty must be negotiated in secret. And the church must be subordinate to the state. The common people can have their religion, they can have their Catholic church, as long as it is controlled by us, and not by Rome.’

‘Forgive me, First Consul,’ Fouché said quietly, ‘but your brother is right - my agents keep me briefed on the feeling amongst the soldiers. It is too dangerous to even attempt it.’

‘It is too dangerous not to,’ Napoleon replied. ‘We need the common people behind us.We need to deny them any reason to offer their loyalty to our enemies. Besides, soldiers forget their politics the moment they march off to war.’

Talleyrand stirred. ‘That sounds like an argument for making war.’

‘Not this time.’ Napoleon reflected for a moment. ‘But war does serve a purpose as much within a society as without.’

‘Until a society grows weary of it. As weary as France is now.’

‘We’ll know if that’s true soon enough,’ Napoleon concluded. ‘In the meantime we must deal with Austria. If they play their game as they did before they will drag the negotiations out for as long as possible while they prepare to renew the fight. In which case there will be more war, whether our people like it or not. It is your job, Fouché, to silence those we cannot win round.’

‘I will see to it,’ Fouché replied evenly.

‘Good.’ Napoleon nodded. Fouché’s slightly reptilian features unnerved him. Napoleon had no doubt that the Minister of the Interior would use any measure needed to suppress opposition to the new order. It was regrettable, thought Napoleon, but the need for repressive action had been forced on him by the enemies of France. Political freedom was a luxury at the best of times. Besides, what did the common peasant or soldier in the ranks really care about such refined notions as a free press? As long as they were fed and entertained then they were content. And, better still, they could be counted on to support Napoleon against the lawyers, philosophers and radicals who formed the core of those opposed to the consulate. In time, when there was true peace, there might be occasion to let people express themselves more freely.

Until then France must be saved from herself before she could be saved from her enemies.

Having signed the peace preliminaries the Austrians delayed moves towards a peace treaty when negotiations opened at Lunéville, just as Napoleon had expected. The Austrian envoys presented a long list of their terms, few of which Napoleon could agree to. Nevertheless it granted the French armies a chance to rest through the long summer months. Meanwhile, in Paris, Napoleon worked feverishly to reform the governance of the country.

A commission was set up to frame a new legal code that would sweep away all the regional anomalies and update the civil, criminal and financial laws of France. Napoleon attended as many meetings as he could, driving its business forward until the first draft was ready four months later. Plans were made to improve roads, ports and canals.Theatres were to be subsidised to help keep the people entertained and provision was made for the care of more than ten thousand wounded veterans who had returned from the wars. Joseph led a small party of church figures to Rome to open negotiations with the Pope for the restoration of the Catholic church in France. Before Joseph left Paris, Napoleon made it clear to him that the final concordat would not include any provision for priests to collect tithes, nor would any property of the church be returned, and the appointment of bishops would have to be approved by the French government.

All this frantic activity consumed much of Napoleon’s time. He rose before dawn and was dressed and had breakfasted by six in the morning. Then he went to his private office, read the pile of documents prepared for him by Bourrienne and scribbled notes in the margins, and dictated his responses to the team of secretaries standing by, pens poised. At noon he had a brief lunch and moved on to attend some of the committees he had instituted to rebuild the nation along more modern, efficient lines.Then there would be a late dinner, after which, if there was no pressing business that still needed attending to, Napoleon joined Josephine and a small inner circle of his family and friends for entertainment. Sometimes it was cards, Napoleon favouring pontoon or whist, at which he invariably cheated.

‘Why do you do that?’ Josephine asked him irritably, one evening in early autumn, as they said good night to their guests and retired to their sleeping quarters.

‘Do what, my love?’

‘Cheat at cards.You do it every time we play.’

‘Do I?’

She dug her elbow into his side. ‘You know you do. Why?’

He shrugged. ‘It means that I win every time.’

Josephine paused to look at him as they entered her bedchamber. She placed her palm against his cheek and gently caressed it. ‘Is it so important to you to win at everything? To be the best all the time?’

‘What else is there? Why should a man aim any lower than the best in his ambitions?’ He eased her gently inside and closed the door behind them.Then he slipped his arms round her waist and pulled her towards him. The scent of her perfume filled his head as he kissed the curve of her neck, marvelling at its silken texture. He whispered, ‘I want to be the best lover that you have ever had . . .’

‘You are,’ she purred, tilting her head aside as she enjoyed the sensation of his lips grazing her flesh there. ‘You are the best.’

Napoleon wanted to believe it, more than anything he had ever believed in his life. Yet the knowledge of her infidelities twisted in his mind like a blade and his body trembled with rage.

‘What is it?’

‘Nothing. Take your clothes off.’

She pulled away and looked at him. There was a wild glint in his eye that she took for passion and she murmured, ‘Yes, my love.’

He stood and watched as she hurriedly removed her dress, her bodice, her stockings and finally undid the lace straps of her underwear. Then she stood before him, naked, and trembling in the cold air even though a servant had lit the fire in the corner of the room. He took one of her small breasts in his hand and rolled his thumb over her dark brown nipple, all the time staring into her eyes. Then he let his hand slide down her ribs, over her stomach and in between her legs. Josephine shut her eyes and bit gently on her lip.

He suddenly withdrew his hand and wrenched at the buttons of his jacket. Josephine took the opportunity to draw away from him and jump into the bed, sliding down under the thick coverings and curling into a ball. It took him a fraction of the time it had taken her to undress and then he clambered in beside her. There was no preamble. He mounted her, thrust himself inside and worked to a swift, vigorous climax and then collapsed on to her with a groan.

‘That was quick,’ she muttered with a trace of disappointment evident in her tone.

‘I’m a busy man,’ he replied huskily as his heart pounded.

‘Too busy to pleasure me it seems.’

Napoleon rolled off her and lay on his back. They had had this discussion several times before in recent months, and he knew the steps by heart. She would accuse him of sparing her no thought, of no longer being the partner of her soul. He would promise that he would give her all of his attention the moment he could afford the time. He genuinely meant it. He loved her more than ever, but thanks to his public duties there was very little time to share that love with her. But the argument would go round and round until she had obtained a promise to join her at the theatre, or the opera, or spend an evening at one of the salons of Paris.The latter were tiresome affairs where men and women either toadied to him or went out of their way to try to impress upon him their greater intelligence or better breeding. And all the time he would be thinking about the pressing difficulties facing France.

It was becoming clear that the Austrians had no intention of signing a peace treaty and Napoleon had ordered Moreau to mass his forces on the Rhine. If there was no treaty by December Napoleon had resolved to renew the war.Then there was a fresh outbreak of rebellion in the Vendée, led by the royalist Georges Cadoudal. Fouché had given orders that Cadoudal and his followers were to be hanged on the spot if they were captured. Yet they were still at large and plotting to spread their rebellion, and there were even rumours of an attempt to be made on Napoleon’s life.

He pressed his head back into his bolster and yawned.

‘I bore you then?’

He swore under his breath and leaned over her. ‘You are the centre of my world, Josephine, but there are demands made of me from every direction of the compass. What can I do? France depends on me, and I cannot ignore her, even for you. Surely you can see that?’

‘I can see where your priorities lie well enough.’ She turned on her side, away from him, and Napoleon was left looking at the shallow arch of her spine for a moment before he kissed the nape of her neck.

‘As soon as I can, I will spend an evening with you.’

‘When?’

He thought quickly. There was a new production of Haydn’s oratorio The Creation opening in December. He would take her to that, and make a lavish evening of it.There would be a dinner at the Luxembourg, and then the guests would proceed to the Opéra in a convoy of coaches. Napoleon made a mental note of the details and resolved to have Lucien make arrangements for the event first thing in the morning.

Towards the end of November, Napleon’s patience with Austria finally gave out and he gave the order to General Moreau to march towards Vienna. He was eating dinner with Josephine one evening early in December when they were interrupted by Berthier. Napoleon noticed his chief of staff’s excited smile at once.

‘What is it, Berthier?’

‘A great victory, sir. The Austrian army blundered into Moreau’s forces at Hohenlinden and was cut to pieces. They lost over eighteen thousand men.’

‘What is Moreau doing now?’

‘He’s sent two of his generals, Ney and Grouchy, to pursue the Austrians.’

Napoleon recalled the names from the personnel records in the Ministry of War. Both were aggressive commanders who were far more likely to keep the pressure on the enemy than Moreau. He nodded with satisfaction, before turning his gaze back to Berthier. ‘I want a full report on the battle as soon as possible. Make sure that Lucien gets a copy, and that he gets an announcement into the papers for tomorrow. If all goes well, the war will be over before Christmas. That will give the people more than enough cause to celebrate.’

‘Yes, sir. Will that be all?’

‘No.’ Napoleon’s eyes glittered as a new thought struck him. ‘Tell Moreau that if he can force an armistice on the Austrians, it is to be signed on Christmas Day.That will be a fine story for the newspapers. And the day before, we shall attend the Opéra.’ He grinned at Josephine. ‘That will give the people of Paris a Christmas to remember for years to come.’

The carriages set off from the courtyard of the Luxembourg Palace shortly after six in the evening. The First Consul’s carriage led the procession. Those that followed carried friends, including Josephine’s son and daughter, Eugène and Hortense. A cold night had closed in over the capital and a mantle of freezing fog lay across the tiled roofs. Even so, the streets were crowded along the route to the opera house. Details of the procession had been published several days before and the people had turned out in their thousands to catch sight of the First Consul and his wife. Many had already been drinking and the streets echoed to the sound of singing and cheers. Torches had been lit along the route and cast a rosy glow in the fog that added to the gaiety of the scene. A squadron of dragoons rode ahead of the carriages, the breastplates of the riders gleaming, and the horses’ coats shining as they snorted plumes of breath into the night air.

Napoleon was wearing the scarlet coat of the First Consul, heavily patterned with gold braid. He smiled as he waved to the crowds. He felt happier than he had in many years. Earlier in the day he had received news that the Austrians had asked for an armistice, and guaranteed to sign peace preliminaries as soon as possible. They could hardly do otherwise with Moreau’s army poised to take Vienna. At long last, peace in Europe was in his grasp. And then England would be on her own. Napoleon’s celebratory mood, and that of the people of Paris, were as one. He reached a hand across to Josephine and entwined his gloved fingers about hers. She turned to him, and even though she wore a thick fur coat he felt her hand tremble.

‘Cold?’

‘No.’ She smiled. ‘Excited. And proud. So very proud of you.’

The carriage suddenly lurched as it turned into the Rue Saint-Nicaise, pressing them together, and they laughed in surprise, and Napoleon darted his head towards Josephine and kissed her lightly on the lips.

‘I love you,’ he said softly. ‘This night more than ever.’

‘And I love you.’ She kissed him back and squeezed his hand. ‘I just wish Eugène and Hortense could have shared the carriage with us.’

‘I’m sure they are happy enough where they are. Besides, if they were with us, I rather fear that everyone’s gaze would be drawn to them. They certainly have their mother’s fine looks.’

Josephine shook her head, but smiled all the same at the compliment. Then her eyes lit up as she glanced at something over Napoleon’s shoulder. ‘Oh! Look there!’

He turned and saw that two small children had climbed on top of a large barrel resting on a wagon, parked at the side of the street. Between them they held up a tricolour flag with his name embroidered on it. Napoleon waved at them and they shouted with delight and waved back frantically. Just before they passed out of sight he glimpsed a glittering spark below them in the wagon. Then the carriage jolted as it passed by and the children and the wagon were gone.

Josephine chuckled. ‘It seems your public loves you.’Then she noticed the faint frown in his brow. ‘What? What is it?’

Napoleon shook his head. ‘I’m not sure.’

He leaned out of the window and stared back towards the wagon at an angle. The children were still waving. He shrugged and settled back against the seat cushion. Josephine was still staring at him and he forced himself to laugh. ‘It’s nothing. Really.’

Outside in the street the world dissolved into a brilliant flash of white, then orange, and an instant later there was a deafening roar, and the carriage was slammed forward as if a giant fist had struck the rear. Napoleon and Josephine were hurled against the seats opposite, amid a shower of broken glass. For a moment Napoleon could hear nothing, and his head felt as if it was stuffed with wool.The light from the torches outside had gone and thick black smoke smothered the street. He shook off the glass and groped towards Josephine, his heart beating in panic and dread. He felt her body, and as she stirred a wave of relief swept through him. His ears filled with a dull roaring sound that slowly resolved into specific noises: the shrill whinny of an injured horse; screams and moans and the shouts of people frantically calling out for their friends and family.

‘Napoleon?’ Josephine’s voice sounded slightly muffled as she pulled herself up on to a seat and held his face in her hands. He saw that her cheek was bleeding from a cut. She spoke again, and he heard her more clearly this time as his hearing recovered. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine . . . I think.’ Napoleon glanced over his body and flexed his limbs.There was no pain and no blood.Then he turned to the shattered window on his side of the carriage. ‘An explosion. A bomb.’

At once he recalled the convoy of carriages behind them and pushed down the handle of the door. It swung open and Napoleon scrambled down into the street and stared back along the convoy. The cart and barrel on which the two children had stood to greet Napoleon had vanished.The street was filled with the bodies of people and horses and the shattered remains of carriages. Every window as far as Napoleon could see had been shattered and the buildings immediately around the point of the explosion had collapsed. An officer from the Consular Guard ran up and took his arm.

‘Sir! Get back in the carriage.We have to get you out of here!’

‘Leave me alone.’ Napoleon gestured towards the blackened figures stirring amid the carnage. ‘Help those people!’

The officer stared at him briefly and then nodded, turning to his men. ‘Follow me!’

‘My God . . .’ Josephine mumbled.

Napoleon looked round and saw that she had followed him down from the carriage. She stared past him, and then thrust her gloved hand to her mouth as her eyes widened in terror. ‘My children! My children . . . My Eugène. Hortense. Where are they?’

She brushed past him and ran back towards what was left of the following coaches and Napoleon went after her, his heart heavy with dread. Only a miracle could have spared those caught in the full blast of the explosion.