Текст книги "The Generals"
Автор книги: Simon Scarrow
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Josephine continued.‘You are too busy because you choose to be. There is not one branch of government that you do not oversee and interfere with. I overheard a comment made by one of your officials the other day. As you were dictating a letter, he leaned to one of his companions and muttered “God created Bonaparte, and then He rested.” I wouldn’t be flattered by that, if I were you. I got the distinct impression that he was ridiculing your ambitions.’
‘Who said that?’
‘I will not tell you,’ she replied firmly. There was a tense silence between them for a moment before Josephine continued in a more concerned tone,‘I don’t think it is healthy for one man to work so hard. Not for you and not for France.’
‘Why?’
‘If you shoulder every responsibility that you can, then what happens to France if you are taken from us?You cannot guarantee immunity from sickness, or from a bomb for that matter. The country would be thrown into anarchy if you were lost.’
Napoleon nodded. ‘I had thought of that.’
Josephine leaned forward and took his hand. ‘Then you must find some men to share the burden with you. Men you can trust.’
‘No. Power shared is power weakened. The only guarantee of a stable future for France is for me to remain in control of the government, and the army.’ He stared at his wife, wondering how far he should trust her with his thoughts. Then her barbed comments about his failings as a husband cut into his heart again. He owed her his trust at the very least. Napoleon pressed her hand between his and lowered his voice.‘I’ve already made up my mind. France needs me to remain her master. I must become First Consul for life, and I must have the power to choose a successor. Only that will guarantee a better future for our people.’
Josephine shook her head. ‘You are mad. All this power has turned your head. Do you think for a moment that all those politicians in the assemblies will agree to that?’
‘No, I don’t,’ Napoleon conceded, and then smiled faintly. ‘And that is why I have no intention of asking for their agreement.’
Chapter 64
The cardinal from Rome began his delivery in Latin and the words, read in a monotone, echoed round the interior of Notre-Dame. Most of the guests had little understanding of the language and looked on with feigned expressions of interest and respect as the Holy Father’s message was delivered. The consuls were sitting to one side of the pulpit, while the rest of the audience sat in neat ranks facing the cardinal, dressed in their finery. Napoleon had already been shown a translation and was reassured that there were no unpleasant surprises in the Pope’s greeting to the Catholics of France and his expression of great happiness over the reconciliation of the French people and the Church. In truth, Napoleon thought it a rather dull document with little of the fiery passion of the great speeches of the leaders of the revolution. Still, if it gave the peasants what they wanted and helped to draw the people of France closer together, the Concordat would prove to be very useful. For a moment he marvelled at the power that religion wielded over the minds of men when science and philosophy offered so much more insight into the workings of the world and the people who populated it. Religion was little more than the codification of sundry superstitions and prejudices, he decided. It was not amenable to reason, much like the spirit that animated those who persisted in their loyalty to the Bourbon monarchy. In due course, compulsory education of the masses would put paid to religion – Napoleon already had the outline of a national system of schools sketched out in his mind. For now, religion served his purpose and he would embrace it until such time as it could be consigned to the midden heap of history.
The cardinal droned on, and Napoleon’s gaze wandered round the interior of the cathedral, over the ranks of the military officers and politicians in the front rows of the seats facing the pulpit. He was well aware of the anger and resentment this treaty with the Pope had engendered in their ranks. It had been a closely calculated risk to appeal over their heads to the people of France, but it was more important to divide the royalists from the church than worry about the ideological concerns of the intellectuals and radicals of Paris society. Besides, he would need all the popular support he could muster in the months to come.
Napoleon frowned, and lowered his head as if bowing it in thoughtful reflection on the Pope’s message. In reality he sought only to hide his face from the other members of the audience since he feared that some amongst them might read his mind from his troubled expression. He was burdened with anxiety over the reaction of the tribunes’ assembly towards the peace he had brought to France.Talleyrand, Fouché, Lucien and their followers had been busy preparing the ground for a vote to make Napoleon First Consul for life. Instead the tribunes had offered to renew Napoleon’s current office for another ten years.
Was this his reward for bringing the first peace that France had known since the revolution? He fumed and clenched his fist, then thrust it inside his jacket to keep it out of sight. Did the fools really think he would quietly accept this sop when so much work still had to be done to drag France back to the summit of European power? Did they really think that there was anyone else who could have achieved as much as Napoleon had in the short time since he had risen to power? France needed him. More than she needed the ingrates of the tribunes’ assembly. When the time came for the people of France to make their feelings clear Napoleon would make sure that the spiteful and petty spirits who stood between him and the glorious realisation of France’s ambitions would be swept away with all the other dead weight that was holding the nation back.
He took a deep breath and looked up again.The cardinal had reached the end of the Pope’s message and was descending from the pulpit. He made his way, at a solemn pace, towards the altar and prepared to offer the sacrament to the consuls. Napoleon had been expecting this moment; the Catholic Church would hardly pass up the opportunity to use the ceremony to establish its pre-eminence over even those who ruled France. As the cardinal turned round, wafer in one hand and goblet in the other, Napoleon rose to his feet, bowed curtly and marched boldly down the aisle between the ranks of France’s most powerful men. He kept his chin up, and his gaze fixed on the arched exit from the cathedral. Even so, he was aware of the looks of astonishment, and amused admiration, from those on the periphery of his vision.
‘Was that wise?’Talleyrand asked, as they stood on the balcony of the Luxembourg Palace a short time later, acknowledging the cheers of the vast crowd that had gathered to celebrate the Concordat. The First Consul and his foreign minister were basking in the adulation of the people.
‘It was necessary. It was important to show the Pope, as well as our people, that the state owes no allegiance to the Church.’
‘Yes, well, I imagine that’s exactly how His Holiness will see things the moment he receives a report from the cardinal. I just hope it doesn’t sour the Concordat so soon after it has been signed.’
‘It won’t,’ Napoleon replied confidently. ‘The Church needs the agreement as much as we do.’ He glanced at the foreign minister. ‘The real difficulty that faces us is keeping the peace with England. It is vital that you win us as much time as possible before war breaks out again.’
‘I will do what I can,’ Talleyrand responded evenly.
‘No.’ Napoleon shook his head. ‘You will do what I say. The fate of us all depends upon it.’ He turned back to the crowds and gave them a final wave before turning away and striding back through the tall glazed doors into his office, followed by Talleyrand. Fouché was sitting to one side of the desk waiting for them. Napoleon had thought it wise not to share the public acclaim with Fouché, who had become a sinister figure already, and was likely to become hated and feared in the months to come. Napoleon took his seat behind the desk and Talleyrand found a chair as far from Fouché as was politely possible.
‘Half of Paris must be out there.’ Fouché smiled. ‘It seems that the people have come to love you, First Consul.’
‘Love?’ Napoleon shrugged. ‘Perhaps that is what they feel for me. Now. But the mob is a fickle beast.We all saw that during the revolution. So I care little about their love. What concerns me is not providing the people with any reason to oppose the new order. That is our mission, gentlemen. As long as we succeed in that we can do as we will to remake France, and carry her influence into other lands.’ He paused to let his words sink in. ‘They have the peace they wanted. They have law and order. We must extend the benefits of the consulate even further. I want every man in France to have the chance to rise through his own merits rather than because he is the son of an aristocrat. I want us to provide the people of France with the means to gain an education and an opportunity for advancement. We will have a national system of education.We will also have a national system of public reward to celebrate achievement.’ His mind raced ahead. ‘A decoration for achievement in all fields, civilian as well as military.We’ll create a body of men who will be honoured by the nation, a legion of honour if you will.’
‘Legion of honour?’ Talleyrand pursed his lips. ‘A laudable notion, though I am not sure that our military recipients will be pleased to rub shoulders with scientists, artists and the like.’
‘Maybe, but they will have to get used to it. What matters is that we tie everyone into the new regime.’
‘And what of those people who would rather not be part of it?’
‘That is where our friend Fouché plays his part.’
Fouché bowed his head politely.
Napoleon continued. ‘While the government offers the carrot, Fouché will wield the stick.There will be tight censorship of the newspapers, the theatres and public meetings. No one will be permitted to spread ideas that undermine the regime. At the same time Fouché will be empowered to set up a system of military tribunals in the areas where there is any kind of unrest. As far as anyone needs to know the purpose of the tribunals is to provide summary justice to any rebels who are captured. In practice, they will provide us with a means, and a justification, for arresting any troublesome royalists and radicals.’
‘I see. And when were you planning to put all this into effect?’
‘As soon as I become First Consul for life.’
Talleyrand could not help an amused smile. ‘Do you really think the assemblies will permit you to assume such power?’
‘Not for a moment,’ Napoleon admitted.‘That is why you and the rest of my followers are going to propose an amendment to the tribunes’ motion offering me a renewal of my term of office.’ Napoleon folded his hands. ‘You will accept the motion, on condition that there is a plebiscite on my assuming the post of First Consul for life, with the right to choose my successor.’
For a moment the other men were silent, and then Fouché leaned forward with an excited glint in his eye. ‘Brilliant . . . Quite brilliant. They can hardly protest if the decision is passed over to the people. Not without making it look as if they were betraying democracy. They’ll have no choice but to vote for the amendment.’
Talleyrand nodded his appreciation. ‘They’ll be completely outflanked.’
Napoleon kept his silence as the other men reflected on his masterstroke. It was the perfect political manoeuvre and the fact that his opponents would be forced to support the plebiscite gave him a thrill of added pleasure.
‘There is one thing we must keep in mind,’ said Talleyrand. ‘The need to move swiftly. The public adulation will inevitably die away once they get used to peace. The amendment can be pushed through quickly enough, but we must insist that the popular vote takes place as soon as possible.’
‘Of course,’ Napoleon agreed. ‘There is no reason why it could not happen as early as August.’
Talleyrand considered this for a moment and nodded. ‘By August, then.’
As Napoleon had foreseen, the amendment was carried by a clear majority. When it was over his political opponents slunk out of their debating chambers seething with fury that they had been compelled to vote for it thanks to their own loudly proclaimed support for the voice of the people. Better still, the announcement of the result was scheduled for August, just as Napoleon had wanted.
In the following months he made sure that the people of Paris were provided with plenty of entertainment and military parades. He gave clear instructions that his subordinate officers were to appear in full dress, with flowing plumes fixed to their gold-braided bicorns. By contrast, he wore a plain coat, as an officer might wear on campaign, and fixed a revolutionary cockade to his hat. Newspapers throughout the country praised the improvements the First Consul was bringing to almost every sphere of French life. Behind the façade of peace and prosperity Fouché moved to silence his critics and enemies. Outspoken royalists and Jacobins were quietly arrested and taken before the military tribunals where their cases were hurriedly processed with little regard to legal niceties. Many were deported, or exiled. A handful of unrepentant prisoners were sentenced to death and taken to barracks outside Paris, shot and buried in unmarked graves.
Despite every precaution taken by Napoleon and his followers there was never any doubt that the people would endorse the hero who had swept away the corruption of the Directory and devoted his life to improving the lives of the people of France. In the middle of July long queues formed at the polls across the country as people cast their vote. While the votes were counted Napoleon remained in Paris, hard at work on the plans to regulate the price of grain so that the poorest citizens would never fear hunger again.
Or so the newspapers reported. In truth, Napoleon fretted over the size of the majority he would achieve in the popular vote. If it was not large enough, his enemies would gain heart from the sizeable minority of the people who still opposed Napoleon. Only an overwhelming majority would settle the matter beyond dispute and prove to France, and the rest of Europe, that Napoleon ruled with a moral authority that the Bourbons had never enjoyed in the centuries that they had been kings of France.
On the last day of July, after the final results had been conveyed to the capital, Napoleon attended a picnic with Josephine and her friends in the gardens of the Tuileries. She had intended to hold the party on the banks of the Seine away from the sweltering heat and bustle of the capital but Napoleon could not bear to be away from Paris when the result of the vote was known. So the party sat on spotless sheets amid the clipped precision of the flowerbeds overlooking the river. The fouled water glided by, bearing the shimmering reflection of the crowded slum houses looming over the far bank. A company from the Consular Guard formed a loose cordon around the guests and their presence detracted from the pastoral idyll that Josephine had intended to create.
‘Must they stand there?’ she asked quietly. ‘They’re making us look like prisoners.’
‘Hmmm?’ Napoleon glanced at her, and realised at the same time that he had been holding the same slice of cheese and ham tart for several minutes. He took a bite and answered her as soon as he had finished chewing. ‘They’re here to protect us.’
‘Protect us from whom? I thought everyone loved you.’
‘Just try to ignore them, my dearest, and then I’m sure your guests will as well.’
‘Ignore them?’ Josephine turned her head round to the nearest section, standing stiffly at attention fifty paces away. Each man wore a tall bearskin hat that only emphasised his natural height. ‘Hardly. Besides,’ she continued insistently, ‘who are they protecting us from? I’d love to know.’
‘The usual malcontents, and those hired by foreign agents to stir up trouble.’
‘Now you sound just like one of those toadying newspapers which relish attacking anyone who criticises you.’
‘It’s not that bad. People are still free to say what they like.’
‘As long as they don’t say it too loud, or to too many people.’
Napoleon sighed. ‘Who has been slinging the mud this time? Your friend Barras? Or that jumped-up perfume platform, Madame de Staël?’
Josephine was quiet for a moment before she continued. ‘Did you have to banish her from Paris?’
‘I didn’t. That was the decision of the Minister of Police.’
‘That dog Fouché.’ Josephine sneered. ‘He’s little more than your pet.’
‘He’s a lot more than that. If Fouché exiled de Staël then you can be sure he had a good reason to do so.’
‘Really? Are you sure? There have been quite a few people disappearing from Paris society in recent months, none of whom I’d describe as a dangerous enemy.’
‘They had to go. For the public good.’ Napoleon reached for some grapes and popped one into his mouth. ‘They’ll be allowed back, once they’ve seen reason and can keep their opinions to themselves. Who knows how far they would take their conspiracies if we permitted them to remain in Paris?’
‘Oh, come on. How many of them do you suppose are actually dangerous?’
‘I don’t know. But the men who tried to kill me and you, and injured Hortense, came from somewhere.’
It was a harsh reminder, and Napoleon felt guilty about his words almost as soon as he had uttered them. Josephine turned away from him indignantly, but he saw through the gesture as she quickly wiped a tear away on her sleeve.
‘I’m sorry, my love. I did not mean to upset you.’ He reached out and gently placed his hand across her shoulder. ‘Really I didn’t.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she replied, her voice catching. ‘You are probably right. You usually are.’ She turned back towards him, and forced herself to smile. Then her expression froze as her gaze swept over his shoulder. ‘Here comes your nasty little policeman.’
Napoleon swivelled round and rose to his feet as he saw Fouché striding across the gardens towards the picnic guests. As soon as he saw Napoleon he broke into a smile and quickened his pace.
‘The result?’ Napoleon asked at once. ‘Is it in?’
‘Yes, citizen.’ Fouché laughed lightly. ‘Or should I say, First Consul for life?’
Napoleon grasped his arm. ‘The numbers. Tell me the numbers.’
‘Three and a half million votes in favour . . . eight thousand against.’
‘Good God,’ Napoleon muttered. ‘Is that true?’
‘Trust me, if it had been rigged they wouldn’t even have got eight hundred votes.’
‘That’s it then. France is as good as mine.’
Chapter 65
Despite the Treaty of Amiens, Napoleon kept a wary eye on the activities of the English as the months passed. Although most of the provisions of the treaty were respected by both countries, the remaining differences between them were as deep as an ocean. Even as Napoleon strove to improve the governance of France with all manner of reforms, his mind was always drawn to the confrontation with the oldest enemy of the revolution.There was little doubt in his mind that the war would be renewed, but if there was any chance, however small, of a lasting peace, then he would take it.
That hope was grasped with fervour by Talleyrand, who spent every waking hour striving to find some means of preventing Europe from sliding back into a bloody conflict. The foreign minister was adamant in his opposition to war, and for the first time Napoleon sensed that there would come a time when the man’s principles would outweigh his usefulness. Napoleon did not trust him. His suspicions were confirmed when Fouché showed him the police file that had been kept on Talleyrand.
As Napoleon scanned through the documents the Minister of Police sat so still and silent on the other side of the desk that Napoleon was almost unaware of his presence. As he flipped the last page over he drew a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.
‘Most interesting . . .’ Napoleon pushed the file back across the desk and smiled. ‘But I’m not sure it amounts to treason.’
Fouché raised his eyebrows momentarily.‘Perhaps not. But the names of his associates, and lovers, are suggestive, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘They’re simply the flotsam of the Paris salon circuit.’ Napoleon waved his hand dismissively. ‘They present no danger to us.’
‘That’s possible.’ Fouché paused and looked straight at the First Consul. ‘But we should not ignore the risk to you . . . and your family. After that infernal device that nearly killed you on the way to the Opéra, who can say what treachery exists out there? You must be on your guard, citizen.’
Napoleon frowned at the memory as Fouché paused to let his words sink in before continuing. ‘With your permission I will have Talleyrand watched day and night so that we can have a full list of his contacts.’
‘With my permission?’ Napoleon mused. ‘And if I don’t give it, then I assume you’ll have him watched anyway.’
‘Of course not, citizen,’ Fouché replied in a pained voice.‘I am your loyal servant. I would never deceive you.’
‘I wonder.’
‘It is my duty to make sure that any threat to the government, and to the people of France, is identified and dealt with before it can do any harm.’
‘And you think Talleyrand is a threat?’
‘I doubt it, sir. Not at the moment. My worry is that he is not sufficiently discreet in terms of the company he keeps, nor in what he might say at an unguarded moment.’
Napoleon could not help laughing.‘Talleyrand is the most discreet man I have ever met! Besides, he would never betray France.’
‘No. Not France. But given that he’s a noble, it is possible that he favours the old order over the new. It is possible that his vision of France is not the same as ours, citizen.’ Fouché shrugged. ‘It’s understandable enough, given his past.’
Napoleon thought it over. It was true that Talleyrand was an aristocrat. Yet his beliefs, as he voiced them, demonstrated a radical frame of mind. Even though he had been abroad during the revolution,Talleyrand had served his country loyally since his return. It was mainly due to his deft touch that the Treaty of Amiens had worked out so well in France’s favour, and it was thanks to him that France was at last enjoying peace with the rest of Europe. And yet . . . What if Talleyrand was plotting to undermine Napoleon, in favour of the royalists? What if there was more to his social circle than there seemed? Certainly some of those named in the report numbered amongst Napoleon’s severest critics and political opponents. As Fouché had said, Napoleon should be on his guard.
‘Very well. Have him watched. But make sure that he knows nothing about it. I would not want Talleyrand to think I had lost faith in him. Just in case there is no proof of disloyalty.’
‘I understand, citizen.’ Fouché leaned forward and retrieved the folder. ‘I’ll see to it at once.’
There was something in his tone that made Napleon look sharply at his Minister of Police. There was a note of triumph there and Napoleon suddenly wondered if Fouché was genuinely concerned about Talleyrand’s loyalty, or whether he was playing a deeper game of position, undermining a potential rival in his play for greater power and influence at the heart of government. The lean face stretched over the skull and the hooded, knowing eyes did not engender trust, and Napoleon realised that Fouché – lacking public affection – was obliged to plot and scheme to secure his advancement. In the same way, Talleyrand was obliged to use his charm and wit to achieve his aims. Two sides of the same coin then, Napoleon concluded wearily. Was this how it would be from now on – a constant war of position amongst his subordinates as they plotted against each other?
‘Fouché,’ he said quietly.
‘Yes, citizen?’
‘I appreciate the conscientious, not to say zealous, manner in which you have carried out your duties. However, perhaps it might not be necessary to arrest so many of our people now that the popular vote has been taken to empower me for life.’
‘You still have enemies, citizen.’
‘And I’d prefer it if you did not provide me with any more. Understand?’
‘Yes.’
‘So tread very carefully around Talleyrand. He has powerful friends.’
‘Maybe, but that won’t save him if he commits treason.’
‘No,’ Napoleon conceded. ‘It won’t. Just make sure you have enough evidence if the moment comes.’
In the following months Napoleon regarded his chief ministers warily. Fouché continued his campaign against the rebels of the Vendée as vigorously as ever, but operated in a more restrained manner in Paris, relaxing some of the restrictions on popular entertainments and imprisoning newspaper editors less frequently. For his part, Talleyrand continued to work hard to persuade the foreign ambassadors that France was sincere in its desire for peace. His task was not made easier by the intransigence of the English and the opportunism of the First Consul. Although the British had undertaken to return Malta to the Knights of St John within three months of the treaty, the island remained in their hands. As summer ended and the British garrison remained in place, Napoleon summoned his foreign minister and the English ambassador to the château at St-Cloud that had been refurbished to act as a diplomatic residence away from the noise and grime of the capital.
In order to lend the meeting a less tense ambience Talleyrand had suggested that a buffet of regional delicacies should be laid out in the drawing room overlooking the ornate gardens. A small party of dignitaries had also been invited, and while Josephine hosted the main party the three men slipped away to a small arbour at the end of the main lawn and sat in the dappled shade of trellised vines as they talked. Lord Whitworth was tall, over six feet in height, and stiff-necked with the casual bluntness, bordering on rudeness, that seemed to characterise so many of his high-born countrymen. At least he had a decent command of French, Napoleon admitted as they swiftly moved from polite informalities to the real business of the day.
‘I have to confess,’ Lord Whitworth crossed his legs as he drawled, ‘His Majesty’s government is perplexed by France’s refusal to sign a commerce treaty between our nations.’
‘How can I agree to that, when you still remain in Malta?’ Napoleon responded. ‘Surely you can see that it is hard to justify a new treaty to my people while the previous one remains to be honoured?’
Whitworth tipped his head slightly to one side. ‘The situation has changed.’
‘No it hasn’t. Your forces are still there. A handover within three months, you said. Then you said you could not leave until a Grand Master of the order had been named. When the Pope sanctioned the new Master, you refused to ratify the appointment. When I offered to permit Neapolitan troops to provide a neutral force of occupation, you refused to let them land on the island.’ Napoleon paused and sighed.‘Lord Whitworth, France has acted with great patience in this matter, but her patience is not without its limits. So, tell me, when will England return Malta to its rightful owners?’
‘Ah, well,’ the ambassador responded awkwardly. ‘The thing is that His Majesty’s government has decided that since the initial period of three months has expired the terms of the treaty no longer apply.’
‘What?’ Napoleon responded sharply. ‘Explain yourself.’
‘It is, of course, our honest intention to quit the island. However, given that the terms of the treaty have failed to cover the present situation, England asserts that it is within its rights to retain possession of Malta.’
‘What rights?’ Napoleon snorted. ‘You have no right to be there.’
‘I beg to differ, sir.’
‘Your continued occupation breaks the spirit and the letter of the treaty and you know it.’
‘That is your opinion.’
‘It is the opinion of every rational man in Europe!’
Before Whitworth could respond to the sudden flaring up of Napoleon’s temper Talleyrand interrupted. ‘The First Consul is right, my lord.There is no worth in your government’s position, and everyone knows it.Yet I can understand your attachment to Malta. It holds a certain strategic importance to the Royal Navy, and as the new Grand Master happens to be Tsar Alexander, you are understandably nervous about providing Russia with access to the Mediterranean, especially given her interest in the disintegration of the Turkish empire.’ Talleyrand paused, and then smiled. ‘Is that a fair approximation of your government’s concerns?’
Whitworth gave a slight nod of assent. ‘I will agree that it is, for the sake of argument.’
‘Then, for the sake of argument, will you not also accept that the possible benefits of continued occupation would be as nothing compared to the vast cost in lives and wealth – should your failure to honour the treaty provoke a renewal of hostilities?’
‘Are you threatening England, sir?’ Whitworth’s tone was angry. ‘Do you desire war?’
‘No, my lord. Do you?’
‘Of course not.’
Napoleon stabbed a finger at him. ‘Then give up Malta.’
Whitworth shook his head. ‘England will not agree to that. Not yet at least.’
‘If not now, when?’
There was a brief pause before Whitworth replied, ‘Not for seven years.’
‘Seven years?’ Napoleon’s eyes widened in surprise and anger. ‘Seven years! You are joking, my lord. Surely?’
‘I assure you I am not, sir.’
‘This is an outrage!’ Napoleon clenched his hands into fists and leaned forward in his chair so suddenly that Talleyrand feared he might strike the ambassador. He rose to his feet and stepped between them.
‘Gentlemen, for pity’s sake, lower your voices.’ He gestured towards the lawn where some of the guests had turned to look towards the arbour following Napoleon’s outburst. Talleyrand continued, ‘We must subordinate our tempers to reason.The fate of Europe depends upon it.’
Napoleon glared at him for a moment, then, lips pressed together in a thin line, he forced himself to sit back and loosen his fists. Talleyrand waited a little longer, until calm seemed to prevail, then turned back to the ambassador.
