Текст книги "The Generals"

Автор книги: Simon Scarrow

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 45 страниц)

Chapter 9

‘Congratulations, sir!’ Murat grinned as he strode up to them in the hall of Madame Sinoir’s house. ‘She’s a lucky woman.’

Napoleon’s blood froze and he sensed his mother bristle beside him as he replied, ‘Thank you, Murat.’

‘Well, can’t stop, sir. Some of us bachelors still have a busy love life.’

‘Yes.’ Napoleon glared. ‘I shan’t keep you.’

Whistling off key to himself, Murat strode away and Napoleon quickly steered his mother to the doorway leading through to the salon.

‘You’re getting married?’ Letizia said loudly as they entered the crowded room. ‘To whom?’

Some of the other guests at the salon turned briefly to look at Letizia before returning to their conversations. Napoleon winced and his mother instantly noticed the gesture.

‘It was your idea to bring me here. Kindly do me the courtesy of not being embarrassed by my presence. Especially since it is only now that you tell me this news.’

‘Yes, Mother.’ Napoleon had been putting the moment off for as long as possible, even after he had arranged to bring her to the salon to be introduced to Josephine.

‘So then. Who is this woman you think you want to marry?’

‘Her name is Josephine Beauharnais.’ Napoleon replied calmly. ‘She’s a widow with two children, well connected, intelligent and witty. She will be a fine wife, and one day I hope she will be the mother of my children. And she’s over there.’ Napoleon nodded to a table where Josephine was playing cards with Paul Barras and two young cavalry officers.

Letizia squinted for a moment. ‘She looks older than you.’

‘She is,’ Napoleon admitted.

‘And she’s flirting with that man.’

‘That’s Paul Barras. He’s an old friend of hers.’

‘More than that, I should say,’ Letizia muttered.

Napoleon frowned, and then abruptly turned and waved a hand to attract Josephine’s attention. She looked up from her cards and smiled at him. Napoleon beckoned, and after a brief word of apology to her male companions she rose from her seat and crossed the room to join him.

‘You wanted me, my love?’

‘Yes.’ Napoleon felt his heart lift at her words. ‘I’d like you to meet my mother.’

Josephine smiled graciously and bowed her head.‘I have heard so much about you, and the rest of the family, from Napoleon. I feel I almost know you already.’

‘And I know almost nothing of you,’ Letizia replied flatly, in her heavy Coriscan accent. ‘But I will make sure that I find out everything I can about you.’

‘Mother . . .’

‘Oh, don’t fret!’ She turned back to Josephine with a forced smile. ‘I’m just keen to know more about any person who might join our family. I’m sure you understand?’

‘Of course,’ Josephine replied. ‘It’s a natural instinct for any mother. Especially the mother of one of France’s most promising soldiers.’

‘Precisely. It is important that Napoleon marries well. To someone deserving of his fame.’

Napoleon felt his insides clench with embarrassment. He wished he had never suggested this meeting. But it had to happen, he realised.A man’s family and his wife could not be kept apart for ever. Unfortunately. He glanced at Josephine and gave a slight shake of his head to indicate that she should not take his mother’s brusqueness to heart.

‘I see,’ Josephine replied evenly. ‘Madame Bonaparte, I can assure you that my family is as respectable as any in France, and has been for many generations.’ She paused, then continued in a warm tone, ‘As I am sure you will come to realise once you have settled into Paris.You must be finding it difficult to adjust to such a sophisticated world after spending a lifetime in Corsica, no?’

Letizia glared back at her, as Josephine went on, ‘I should be delighted to introduce you and your family to Paris, if you would like. It can be quite bewildering to provincials, and of course it would be a pleasure to help the family of my husband to settle into polite society.’ She smiled sweetly, then turned towards Napoleon and slipped her hand through his arm.

‘Napoleon,’ Letizia said hurriedly.‘I find that I am tired. Please would you take me home.’

‘But we’ve only just arrived.’

‘Well, it seems I am not well. Come,’ she said.

Napoleon nodded and gave Josephine’s hand a gentle squeeze. ‘I’ll see you later.’

She nodded, and turned back to Letizia. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you, Madame Bonaparte. However briefly.’

‘Oh, I am sure that we will have plenty of time to become thoroughly acquainted with each other,’ Letizia replied as she took hold of Napoleon’s arm. ‘Please excuse us. I am sure your gentlemen friends are missing your company.’

Josephine smiled a farewell and turned away. As soon as she was out of earshot Napoleon whispered to his mother, ‘What do you think of her?’

‘I don’t think she is for you.’

‘She is for me,’ Napoleon replied earnestly. ‘She is all I ever wanted in a woman.’

‘I will not discuss this here, in front of these people. Later, when we get home.’

Napoleon folded his arms and leaned against the window frame as he faced his mother, Joseph, Lucien, Caroline and Élisa, sitting in the chairs of his small study.

‘What is the reputation of this woman?’ Letizia shot at him.‘If we were in Ajaccio I would know of her at once and be able to decide if she was worthy of you. But here in Paris? Hardly anyone has a good reputation from what I have seen. Women disport themselves like whores. So, I ask you again, Napoleon, what is her reputation?’

Napoleon felt a stab of anger tear through his heart and had to bite down hard to stop himself from swearing. The moment passed and he responded quietly, ‘This is not Ajaccio, Mother. This is Paris, and life is lived differently here. The old ways are gone, and people express themselves in a more liberal manner now.’

‘Liberal manner, indeed. Pouf! It’s licentiousness, pure and simple, and Corsicans are better than that.’

‘Mother,’ Joseph intervened. ‘For better or worse, we are French now. We have to live by a different standard.’

‘Lower our standards, you mean.’

Joseph ignored her and turned to his younger brother. ‘The important question is, does Napoleon love her? And does she love him?’

‘Love?’ Letizia laughed. ‘What do either of you know of love? Sound reasons for marriage come first, love grows later. Depend upon it, that’s how marriages work. If you do it the wrong way round it is merely a childish infatuation that quickly passes and all that is left is a marriage certificate and a lifetime of duty. Napoleon!’

‘Yes, Mother?’

‘This Beauharnais woman, what do you know of her?’

Before Napoleon could reply, Lucien coughed and stirred. ‘I have heard something of her.’ He smiled. ‘I’ve been spending some time at the Jacobin club, finding out as much as I can about the political terrain, as it were.’

‘Really?’ Letizia stared at him.‘Is that wise, given your nose for trouble?’

Lucien looked down at his shoes, shamed by the memory of the ill-timed radical pamphlet he had written that had done so much to ruin the family’s fortunes in Ajaccio.

His mother tapped her foot impatiently. ‘Well? What do you know of this woman? Speak up.’

‘She is well connected indeed, just as Napoleon said. Until very recently she was the mistress of Paul Barras.’ His eyes flickered towards his brother leaning against the window frame. ‘Some say that she still is.’

‘Then they are fools,’ Napoleon replied tersely. ‘She is mine and mine alone, and she wants to be my wife.’

‘Of course she does,’ Letizia said. ‘Who else would be fool enough to have her?’

‘Enough!’ Napoleon took a stride forward, his hand cutting through the air. ‘I have decided to marry her and that is an end to it! You will not question my decision, Mother.’

‘I will do what I like, my boy. And when is this farce going to be made legally binding?’

‘I don’t know,’ Napoleon admitted. ‘We haven’t settled on a date yet.’

‘Well I should, and soon. I imagine that Paris folk are not inclined to respect the sanctity of the marriage bed. Best to get yourself married before any bastards spoil things.’

‘We are already lovers, Mother.’

There was no expression of surprise or horror on Letizia’s face, just a look of disdain and disgust.‘I see. In that case you leave me no choice. Marry the woman and be done with it. Just never expect me to be her friend, or to approve your choice. You’ve soiled your bed. Now you must lie in it.’

Napoleon forced a smile. ‘You give your blessing then?’

‘Yes,’ she replied through clenched teeth.

Joseph stood up and grasped his brother’s hands.‘May I be the first to offer my congratulations?’

His face was sincere and for the first time in years Napoleon felt the grateful affection he had known as a small child at the school in Autun where Joseph had done everything in his power to protect his prickly young brother.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

After a moment’s hesitation Lucien rose to his feet and joined his brothers. ‘I offer my best wishes as well. If she’s as well connected as I hear, she will be a useful ally to have in Paris. Don’t worry about what I said about Paul Barras. Most of those I spoke to said he had grown tired of her and was grateful to have her off his hands.’

Napoleon stared at him for a moment before replying in a tone of strained calm. ‘Thank you for that, Lucien. It’s a comfort to know.’

Letizia snorted and rose from her chair. ‘Good luck and good riddance. I’ll leave you three fools to yourselves, then.’

She stormed from the room, shutting the door loudly behind her. The brothers exchanged a look and then Napoleon burst into laughter.

Even as he wooed Josephine Napoleon did his best to ingratiate himself with her children. Despite his gifts and the efforts he made to befriend them Napoleon sensed their reserve. It was only natural, he reflected.The memory of their father’s arrest, trial and execution was still fresh in their minds and their mother’s latest suitor must compare unfavourably with the tall, well-mannered soldier whose cultured tones and noble bearing were fixed in their memories. On the other hand, Napoleon comforted himself, they could not but prefer him to the glib politician, Barras.

Napoleon saw Josephine almost every day, even though he was embroiled in organising the morass of details that needed to be drawn together and given shape so that the armies of the republic could fight and defeat the enemy. His particular field of expertise related to the Army of Italy and the problem of driving Austria out of the northern areas of the Italian peninsula and claiming them for France.The more he considered the matter the more Napoleon convinced himself that Austria could be beaten, provided his plans were carried through with sufficient dash by the officer who was entrusted with command of the Army of Italy.

One day, as he was walking in the Tuileries garden with Josephine and had just dealt with yet another group of well-wishers, overawed to meet the soldier who had saved the government from the mob, he turned to her and said sadly, ‘Your children, I think, would rather you did not marry me.’

‘They are children.’ Josephine shrugged. ‘Their hearts will change, given time.They will come to know you well enough to appreciate your qualities.’ She slipped her hand under his arm and squeezed it. ‘Be patient, my dear.’

‘I would be patient, if I could only control my heart. I want you so much that I would marry you this day if I could. But I am afraid that if your children bear me any ill will it will act as a wedge in your affections. Perhaps we should delay our wedding for a while.’

She stopped and turned on him quickly. ‘Delay? Why?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘What is it, Napoleon? Do you no longer love me?’

‘Yes! Yes, of course I do.’ He cupped her cheek in his hand. ‘Never doubt that. I just want to be sure that nothing stands between us when we become man and wife. I swear that’s all I meant. I should like to have the chance to achieve something that Eugène and Hortense could be proud of, so that they would be pleased that you married me.’

Josephine smiled briefly.

‘What is it?’

‘Oh, just something I heard the other day. A rumour,’ she added quickly.‘You might get that chance sooner than you think.’

‘Why?’

‘I will not say. I am sworn to secrecy.’

‘Tell me.’

‘No.’ She pressed a finger to his lips.‘You’ll see. I won’t say any more for now. But we must not worry about the children.When they see how happy I am I promise you they will be happy for me, and accept you.’

‘I hope so,’ Napoleon replied, but his mind had already moved on to other things. What was this rumour that Josephine had mentioned?

Early in the new year they settled on a June date for their wedding. Napoleon would be busy until then co-ordinating the military effort in Italy. After that he would take leave and they would honeymoon in Normandy. Or so they thought, until Napoleon was summoned to the Tuileries for an interview with Paul Barras. It was late in January and cold rain swept the streets of the capital. As his coach drew up in the courtyard Napoleon pulled up his collar and dived out, trotting quickly up the steps into the entrance hall. Barras was alone in his office when the young general was ushered inside. He dispensed with formalities and waved Napoleon to the chair opposite his desk.

‘How are the preparations coming for the new campaign?’

Napoleon instantly collected his thoughts as he made his report. ‘The operational plan is complete. My staff has calculated the logistical requirements and rations and ammunition should be arriving at the forward depots this week. However, General Masséna reports that all three divisions of the army urgently require fresh drafts of replacements as well as boots, uniforms, muskets and their back pay. Otherwise he cannot guarantee the success of the campaign.’

Barras nodded his head and smiled indulgently. ‘That’s all I seem to hear from our generals these days. Constant demands for more men and more supplies or all is lost. The army appears to have been struck down by an epidemic of exaggeration. Tell me, General, if you were in Masséna’s boots, and you could not count on all the things he has asked for, what would you do?’

Napoleon raised his eyebrows. ‘If France could not supply what I needed then I would take my supplies from somewhere else.The north of Italy is a prosperous land.They have productive farms and wealthy cities. An army could live off the land very comfortably indeed.’

‘I see.Then you would make the people we saved from Austrian domination pay for the privilege. Hardly an ethical proposition.’

‘War is not ethical, citizen.’

Barras took a deep breath.‘Perhaps it is best for both of us that you are a soldier, Bonaparte. As it is you have become something of an idol for our people. Perhaps it would be best if you were found employment outside Paris. Your fame is making the politicians nervous.’

‘Citizen, I am loyal to the republic.’

‘I know that,’ Barras replied with a quick smile. ‘But there are some men who have always been unnerved by the popularity of our military heroes, and they are watching you carefully, even now. As much for your own protection then, you must be found a position some distance from the centre of power.’

Napoleon sensed the direction the discussion was about to take and leaned forward to tap his finger loudly on Barras’s desk. ‘I will notbe sent to the Army of the West.’

‘You will do as you are ordered, General,’ Barras said firmly. He held up his hand to forestall any angry response. ‘However, that is not the decision I have made. As it happens, I want to offer you the command of the Army of Italy.’

Napoleon was stunned. This was the opportunity that his entire military career so far had been working towards. The chance to put all his ideas to the test, to ensure that the planned campaign was conducted precisely according to his intentions. Then a cold suspicion filled his thoughts and he looked at Barras with narrowed eyes.

‘Why me? There are plenty of other men to choose from.’

‘You drew up the plans for the coming campaign, and I think you have the qualities that will ensure the best chance of success. This campaign may make your reputation. If you succeed, then, of course, I will take credit for choosing you for the command.’

‘And if I fail?’

‘Then it will be the end of any military or political ambitions you may have. Do you accept the post?’

‘Yes,’ Napoleon replied at once. ‘And I will not fail France.’

‘Very well,’ Barras replied with a relieved expression. ‘I will have the necessary papers drafted. There’s little time before the campaign season begins.You must take up the command before April. Can you be ready by then?’

‘Of course, citizen. I will need to brief my subordinates at the bureau and select my staff officers. There are some personal matters that need to be attended to as well.’

‘So I have heard. Congratulations.’

‘Thank you.’ Napoleon smiled ruefully. ‘Though I dare say Josephine will not thank me for pre-empting our plans.’

‘I think you will find that Madame Beauharnais is sufficiently adaptable to cope. I know her well enough to assure you of that.’

In the short time that was left Napoleon flew through the many tasks that required his attention before he could take up the command. He offered posts on his headquarters staff to Murat and Junot and requested the recall of Marmont from the Army of the Rhine.The position of Chief of Staff was given to General Berthier, a colleague from the bureau of topography who had sound administrative skills. Uniforms were ordered, horses purchased, a travelling library selected and arrangements made for the care of his family while he was away on campaign. More important still was the need to bring forward the wedding and find a home for his new wife.

Late in the afternoon of 9 March, in a register office close to the new house Napoleon had leased on the Rue Chantereine, there was a small gathering of family and friends. Josephine arrived first, accompanied by Paul Barras who had offered to be one of the witnesses. Napoleon was over an hour late, delayed by the need to reply to some urgent dispatches. He hurried into the register office, flushed and breathless, still in his plain uniform coat. Letizia, who had been enjoying the delay, hoping that her son had at last seen reason, slumped back on her chair in dejection.

‘If we may proceed?’ the registrar said impatiently.

‘By all means,’ Napoleon panted, and the official went through the procedure in a weary monotone.

Josephine dug him in the ribs and whispered fiercely, ‘Thanks for making me look a fool in front of my friends.’

Napoleon glanced round and could see only Barras and a handful of others. He whispered back, ‘Those who could be bothered to come, at least.’

‘You swine.’

‘We’re here,’ Napoleon whispered softly. ‘That’s all that matters, my love.’

‘I had hoped for something grander than this.’

‘There was no time to organise anything else,’ Napoleon protested. ‘Some day, we’ll make it more formal, I swear it. A ceremony you can be proud of to your dying day.’

The registrar coughed and leaned towards them. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather complete the formalities before you have your first matrimonial row.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Napoleon blushed. ‘I’m sorry.’

The registrar glared at him for a moment before returning to his script and continuing with the ceremony. When it was over, Napoleon and Josephine signed their names, witnessed by Barras and Joseph.There was a small reception in the new house before the guests left and the newly wed couple retired to their bedroom and closed the door behind them.

‘Still angry with me?’ Napoleon smiled, his fingers gently untying the straps of her bodice. She stood stiffly before him, trying to keep her face fixed in a stern expression of rebuke.

‘Of course.’

‘Well then, let us see whether I can persuade you to forgive me . . .’

Two days later, as dawn broke over Paris, Napoleon stepped out of the house he had lived in for barely a week. Outside in the street Junot was waiting for him, holding the reins of their horses. The rest of the staff and his baggage had been sent ahead a few days earlier and there would be a long hard ride before they caught up with them. Napoleon swung up into his saddle, adjusted his reins and then turned to look at the bow window on the first floor. Through the glass he could see Josephine gazing down at him, her arms clasped about her body as if she were cold. Their eyes stayed fixed on each other for a moment, and Junot, sensitive to their need, turned his horse away and made for the end of the street. Napoleon mouthed words of his love, then waved one hand in a gentle gesture of farewell and rode off to war.