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The Generals
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Текст книги "The Generals"


Автор книги: Simon Scarrow



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‘A common thug? I think not. He’s an aristo.’ Fouché swung his foot into the side of the man’s head. ‘An aristo and a traitor. And there are many more like him out there, scheming and plotting to place a Bourbon back on the throne. Mark my words, Brigadier Bonaparte, we have to watch our backs.The revolution is not quite as safe as our government would like us to think.’ He smiled. ‘Now I must go. I have another speech to make, in the Place Vendôme.’ Fouché suddenly looked tired and anxious. ‘The people have to be convinced to vote for the new constitution. If it fails to win their support then all is lost . . .Anyway, I hope we meet again, sir.’

Napoleon nodded faintly, not relishing the prospect.

As Fouché and his bodyguards strode away towards the Rue Saint-Honoré Napoleon glanced round at the people in the Palais-Royal. Now that the excitement was over, most were drifting back to their earlier entertainments. Only a small proportion of them had come to Fouché’s aid. As for the rest, Napoleon could not say where their loyalties lay. Perhaps Fouché was right, Napoleon conceded. Perhaps the situation in Paris was more dangerous than he had supposed.

Chapter 3

The Minister of War gestured to the chair that had been positioned on the opposite side of his desk. ‘Please, Brigadier Bonaparte, sit down.’

Napoleon complied, and Carnot leaned forward. ‘You’ve injured your head.’

For a moment Napoleon considered relating the events of the previous evening, and then realised it might be thought unseemly for a senior officer to be involved in a street brawl. He cleared his throat. ‘I had a dizzy spell, citizen. I tripped and fell down some stairs.’

‘But your head’s clear enough, I trust.’

‘Yes, sir. Of course.’

‘Just as well, since I have been asked by the Committee for Public Safety to pick your brains.’ Carnot smiled.‘It seems that you are regarded as something of an expert on military affairs in Italy.’

Napoleon’s mind raced. It was true that he had been asked to draft some plans for the campaigns of the Army of Italy, and he had written some assessments of the war capability of Genoa, but did that qualify him as an expert? If he assumed the role too readily he risked being thought impudent. On the other hand, this might be a chance to improve his prospects. He straightened his back and nodded modestly as he replied.

‘It is true that I have a thorough knowledge of the Italian theatre, citizen.Though I have been out of touch with operations for some months now.’

‘Then you are not aware of the latest reports from the front?’

Napoleon shrugged. ‘I read the newspapers, citizen.’

‘The newspapers are hardly intelligence reports.’ Carnot sniffed. ‘Besides, even they don’t yet know of the latest situation. But they will soon enough. Some fool or other on the Committee will blurt it out to one of his friends and it’ll be round Paris quicker than a dose of the clap.’ Carnot eased himself forward and stared directly at Napoleon. ‘General Kellermann and his men have suffered another defeat. The Army of the Alps is in full retreat, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Kellermann had scurried halfway back to Paris by now.’

Napoleon was irritated to hear the hero of Valmy spoken of so dismissively and instinctively rallied to a fellow officer’s defence. ‘The general must have his reasons for withdrawing, citizen.’

‘Oh, I’m sure he does.’ Carnot wafted a hand. ‘But let us call a spade a spade, Bonaparte. This is no withdrawal, it is a retreat pure and simple.The man has been beaten.What the Committee wants to know is whether it is worth renewing our efforts to take Italy from the Austrians, or whether we should be content with just defending the frontier. Now, you know the terrain, you know the enemy’s strengths and weaknesses and you know what our men are capable of achieving. So, then, which course of action would you advise?’

Napoleon hurriedly marshalled the knowledge he had of the Italian front and mentally composed his response before he spoke. There was only a short pause before he began, ticking the points off with his fingers.

‘We need Italy. France’s treasury is almost empty. There’s plenty of wealth to be had from seizing Austria’s Italian provinces. We might even be able to exact enough money to pay for the war. Besides, it’s not as if the Italians are keen to stay under the Austrian yoke. If France promises them freedom and political reform, then we can be sure of winning over all but the most entrenched of their aristocrats. We could also make good use of the enmity that exists between Genoa, Lombardy,Venice, Rome and Naples. Play them off against each other and we can take each one in turn.’

‘But first we have to defeat the Austrians.’

‘Yes, citizen. I believe it can be done. Their soldiers are tough enough. But they’ve been serving in Italy for a long time. Many of them are far older than our men. All our soldiers need is the right kind of leader. Someone who can fire their patriotism . . .’ Napoleon paused a moment, to allow Carnot to reach the inevitable conclusion of this line of rhetoric. Then he drew a breath and continued. ‘A man of General Kellermann’s reputation is more than adequate for the task.’

‘Such faint praise.’ Carnot smiled. ‘For a moment there I thought you were going to volunteer for the job.’

‘No,’ Napoleon protested and tried to sound sincere. ‘I’m not ready to command an army. The idea’s preposterous.’

‘I know it is. That’s why I am glad that you didn’t suggest it. Please continue.’

‘Yes. Well then, leaving aside the morale issue, the Austrians lack mobility.They never advance anywhere without long supply columns. If our men can live off the land they will march many times faster than the Austrians. We could cut their communications at will, fight a war of manoeuvre.’The ideas were spilling out of his mind in a rush and Napoleon forced himself to slow down. If his words were to have any effect on the members of the Committee he must not appear to be some cavalier adventurer. He must present his case in a balanced manner. He continued.

‘Those would be the arguments for going on to the offensive, citizen. Of course, one must consider the opportunities and risks of the alternative strategy; merely defending our frontier. It would require a large body of men tied up in a line of static defences. They would have to be supplied regularly – an expensive undertaking. And garrison duty would dull the edge of their fighting potential. Then there’s the issue of handing the initiative to the Austrians. If they wished to attempt an invasion along our southern coast they could pick the time and place to launch the attack and France would be compelled to counter-attack in strength just to restore the frontier.’

Carnot held up his hand to stop Napoleon. ‘I can see where your analysis is heading, Bonaparte.Your advice would be to go on the offensive?’

‘Frankly, citizen, I can’t see any profitable alternative. General Kellermann goes on the offensive now, or else France will be forced to go on a more costly counter-offensive later on, with far more limited goals.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘I say we should make every effort to knock the Austrians out of the war, in the Italian theatre at least.’

Carnot stared back at him, his face creased into a faint frown as he pondered Napoleon’s words. ‘Your views are most interesting, and I will be sure to share them with the other members of the Committee. There is one last matter which requires some thought, namely who would be best suited to command the army, whether it sits on the defensive or is sent forward. General Kellermann is no longer a young man . . .’

Napoleon studiously ignored the invitation to pass comment, and at length Carnot was forced to continue. ‘Then, let us say his experience might be better engaged in more administrative functions. Wouldn’t you agree?’

‘It is not fitting for a subordinate officer to make such judgements, citizen. I am a simple soldier and I speak only in terms of facts.’

The other man smiled. ‘It is true that you are a soldier, just as it is manifestly untrue that you are simple. I think that if you were to deploy your talents on the political field as shrewdly as you do on military matters then you would be a man I would be wise to watch closely. Particularly at a time when so many soldiers seem to be carrying their political ambitions in their knapsacks.’

‘I’m not sure what you mean, citizen.’

‘If I’m any judge of character, you know exactly what I mean,’ Carnot reflected wearily. ‘Now then, I’m grateful for your insights. And it may be that I will need to consult you again on these matters. Which means I have to find some way of keeping you out of the clutches of the Army of the West.’

Napoleon felt his pulse race and he sat still and waited for the Minister of War to continue.

‘There’s a position available in the Ministry’s bureau of topography.They need a senior officer to co-ordinate the movements of our armies. It’s an administrative post, and it needs a good head for detail and quick calculations. I’m certain you could cope with it. I want you to take the job. Of course it has the added virtue of keeping you close at hand, in case a combat command should fall vacant. I’m not promising anything, you understand?’

‘I understand, sir.’

‘Good. In the meantime I will see to it that someone is found to replace you on the strength of the Army of the West.’

‘Thank you, citizen,’ Napoleon replied. ‘I am in your debt.’

‘Yes, you are. And I will show you no pity if I have misjudged your potential, Bonaparte. Make sure you remember that. Now you may go.’

‘Yes, citizen.’ Napoleon rose from his chair and strode towards the door.

‘One last thing,’ Carnot called after him.

‘Yes?’

‘Keep your wits about you.The word is our royalist friends are brewing something up. It could be just a rumour, but I’m not so sure. Keep your ears open. Don’t leave the city and be ready to act if something happens.’

‘Something?’

Carnot lowered his voice ominously. ‘Just be ready.’

Chapter 4

One morning, late in September, Napoleon was taking his usual morning stroll through the gardens of the Tuileries. The air was crisp and fresh and the slight chill hinted at the coming change of season. The gardens were scattered with people enjoying the clear skies and Napoleon felt his spirits rise. The appointment to the bureau of topography had saved him from the bitter struggle against the Vendée insurgents and, at last, he had been restored to full pay. His debts had been cleared, and now that Marmont had been posted to the Army of the Rhine his expenses had been reduced to maintaining only himself and Junot.

On the far side of the gardens a crowd had gathered outside the hall of the National Assembly. As Napoleon made his way round the gravel path and approached the building he saw that the crowd had swelled in size and angry shouts filled the air. He approached and caught the eye of a man in an expensively tailored coat.

‘Citizen, what’s happening here?’

The man turned and stabbed his finger towards the National Assembly. ‘They’ve just released the details of the new constitution.’

‘Oh? And?’

‘It’s a disgrace, that’s what. Those bastards of the Convention are taking seats in the Legislative Assembly. The scum just want to cling on to their jobs.’

Napoleon couldn’t help smiling. ‘What did you expect? They’re politicians.’

The man faced Napoleon and glared.‘That’s as maybe, but the people won’t stand for it.’ He gestured to the surrounding crowd and Napoleon could see that many faces wore expressions of anger and the air was filled with cries of ‘Fraud!’ and ‘Down with the government!’ Some even cried out for the restoration of the monarchy.

The man turned back towards the National Assembly and added his voice to the angry chants. Napoleon glanced over the crowd one last time and then resumed his walk, making his way back to his lodgings with a heavy heart. The new constitution was supposed to restore political order, but the self-interest of the politicians meant that none had lost any power, or their jobs. What had been lost was the chance to unite the country, and Napoleon’s heart filled with contempt for the political class that simply looked to its privileges and its purses and couldn’t give a damn about the rest of the nation.

Over the following days the outrage over the proposed constitution swelled. Large crowds gathered in the streets to protest and at night shots were fired at the National Assembly and the headquarters of the Jacobin and Girondin parties. Fearing for their lives, the deputies granted the leading member of the Committee for Public Safety, Paul Barras, temporary powers to defend the government. And so the entrances to the Tuileries palace were barricaded and manned by troops still loyal to the government.

On the morning of the third day in October Junot shook Napoleon awake.

‘Get dressed. We have to get out of here.’

‘What?’ Napoleon shook his head. ‘Junot, what’s going on?’

‘The royalists.They’re on the move.They have squads of men out on the streets arresting any deputies they can find, and any army officers. They’re already searching the hotels in the next street.’

Napoleon threw back his bedclothes and dressed quickly. He pulled a plain grey coat over his uniform jacket and thought for a moment about taking his sword, then decided against it. If they came across a search party the best thing to do would be to run for it. The sword would only be an encumbrance. Instead, he picked up an old plain coat and tossed it to his friend. ‘Wear that over your jacket.’

Shortly afterwards, the two men left the hotel, cautiously glancing down the narrow street, still gloomy in the thin light of dawn.

‘Where are we going?’ Junot asked.

‘The Tuileries.’

‘Why there? That’s the first place the royalists will attack.We’ll be trapped.’

‘Barras will need every man to defend the government.’

Junot recalled the last days of the monarchy and its futile attempt to defend the palace against the Paris mob. ‘We’ll be slaughtered.’

‘It’s possible,’ Napoleon replied coolly. ‘This is the hour of the republic’s greatest danger. If we lose, then the revolution fails. But if we win, then, my dear Junot, we will be the heroes of the hour and our fortunes will be made.’

As they strode swiftly along the cobbled streets, they heard a sudden crackle of musket fire in the distance. Junot turned to his friend.‘Somehow, I think that the other side has exactly the same thought.’

They avoided the main boulevards as they hurried towards the Tuileries, while the sounds of musket fire became more general, accompanied by distant shouts. At last they reached the edge of the square called the Carrousel in front of the grand gates of the palace. Several wagons had been dragged into the square and overturned and armed men took cover behind them, keeping watch on the government troops defending the palace.

‘Damn,’ Napoleon muttered. ‘We’ll have to try another approach closer to the gates.’

Beside him Junot looked out over the square. ‘We’ll still have to cross the open ground.’

‘Of course, but the range is long. They’ll never hit us, even if they do shoot.’

‘Really? That’s a comfort.’

‘Come on, Junot!’ Napoleon punched his shoulder. ‘Where’s that spirit you showed at Toulon? We’ll be safe enough, provided we can find a way through.’

They retreated down the street and picked a narrow alley running closer to the palace. It was still very early and only the rebels had taken to the streets. Most of the Parisians remained in their homes, and prayed that the trouble would not come close to their door. At length the two officers found a narrow passage cutting between two tenements. At the far end the Carrousel lay clearly visible, with the gates of the palace a hundred paces beyond. Napoleon crept to the end of the passage, with Junot close behind. Then they crouched down and Napoleon took a deep breath. ‘Ready?’

Junot nodded.

They burst from cover and sprinted across the cobblestones towards the gates. For a few seconds no one seemed to have noticed them. Then there was a shout from one of the men sheltering behind the nearest wagon.

‘You there! Stop!’

As they kept running Napoleon saw some of the soldiers on the gates raise their heads to look in their direction.Then one of them snatched up his musket, snapped the cock back and took aim. There was a flash and a puff of smoke, followed by a loud crack and the high-pitched whirr as the ball passed close overhead.

‘Don’t fire!’ Napoleon cried out. ‘We’re army officers!’

But his shouts were lost in the confusion of other voices as the royalists rose up and hurled insults at them. Another shot was fired, low, ricocheting off the stones between Napoleon and Junot. At once, Napoleon tore at the buttons of his coat as he ran and then shivered free of the coat to expose his uniform jacket. ‘Don’t fire!’

To his relief the soldiers lowered their weapons. Then the sound of further shots filled the air and he turned and saw that some of the royalists were attempting to shoot the officers down before they reached the safety of the palace gates.

The soldiers began to provide some covering fire, and Napoleon and Junot sprinted for the army barricades as musket balls cracked off the ground and cut through the air like angry hornets. Then they were at the gates and desperately scrambling over the line of barrels and meal bags that formed the barricade. They rolled over the top and dropped down on the far side, breathless. A sergeant scurried along the line of the barricade towards them. ‘Who the hell are you?’

‘Brigadier Bonaparte and Lieutenant Junot. We’re here to help.’

‘Help?’ The sergeant frowned. ‘Then you could have brought some men with you, sir. A battalion or two of line infantry wouldn’t go amiss.’

‘Sorry.’ Napoleon smiled grimly. ‘We’re all there is.’

‘Pity.’

‘Where is Paul Barras?’

‘Barras?’The sergeant turned and pointed towards the old royal quarters in the centre of the Tuileries. ‘In there, with the other officers, sir.’

‘Fine. Come on, Junot.’

Keeping low, they hurried across the courtyard and up the steps to the main entrance. Behind them the exchange of musket fire kept going a moment longer and then eased off into the odd desultory shot. Inside the palace a young orderly escorted them up the grand staircase to the first floor suite that Barras had chosen for his headquarters. The door was open and the two officers strode in. It was a large chamber, decorated with gilt and fine wallpaper. Little of the original furnishings had survived the mob’s assault on the royal palace a few years earlier and Barras sat at a plain desk. Around him stood or sat several officers, only one of whom Napoleon recognised, and his heart sank.

‘That’s General Carteaux,’ Junot whispered.

Napoleon nodded. The last time they had met, Carteaux had been commanding the army laying siege to Toulon – until the Committee of Public Safety had relieved him of the post for his complete incompetence. Napoleon turned his gaze towards Barras as the latter stood to greet the new arrivals.

‘And who may you two be?’

Once Napoleon had introduced himself and Junot Barras nodded. ‘Any combat experience?’

‘Yes, sir. We served with the army that took Toulon. I commanded the artillery.’

Barras raised his eyebrows. ‘Ah! I remember. So you are thatartillery officer. Robespierre could not have praised you more highly. Still, given the way things turned out I’m not so sure how much stock I should place in his judgement.’

The other officers laughed.There was a harsh nervous edge to the sound that made Napoleon’s spirits sink. If this was a sign of how far morale had fallen then the odds against their beating the royalists had lengthened. Barras sat back down.

‘Well then, Brigadier, I expect you want me to tell you about our little predicament?’

Napoleon nodded.

‘From the latest reports it seems that General Danican has gone over to the royalists. My agents tell me that at first light tomorrow over twenty thousand militia men and royalist sympathisers are going to march on the Tuileries. They intend to massacre every soldier and member of the government that they find here.’


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