The Fields of Death r-4, page 22
part #4 of Revolution Series
In the palace, Napoleon waited as the doctor and the midwife carefully swaddled the cleaned child. On the bed, Marie-Louise sat propped up. Now that the delivery was over she looked exhausted but radiantly happy, and she smiled at her husband.
‘Show him to the people, but not for too long. It is cold outside.’
‘Yes, my dear.’ Spontaneously, Napoleon rushed across the room and held her gently as he kissed her on the lips. ‘You have made me the happiest man in all Europe.’
‘That pleases me.’
He looked down at her fondly. ‘This means everything to me. My son, our child, marks the true union of France and Austria, and our own.’
She touched his cheek. ‘I am glad. I am also tired, my dear husband. I must sleep. But you must show our son to your people. Go now.’
Napoleon kissed her again and crossed to the midwife who was holding his child. As he took the small bundle in his arms and gazed down at the tiny wrinkled face he felt a surge of tenderness and love that he had never experienced before in his life. Then the doctor opened the long glazed door on to the balcony, and Napoleon emerged with his child. The cheers of the crowd reached a deafening climax as they beheld the Emperor and his heir. Napoleon turned slowly so that all the people who had gathered in the Place du Carrousel, tens of thousands of his subjects, could see the child as the guns continued to thunder out across the capital. Already the signal stations that stretched across France would be carrying the news to every city, town and village. Soon the guns of every French army would be echoing the salute across the empire, from the cold expanse of Poland to the hills and plains of Spain and Portugal.
The celebrations for the birth of the emperor’s son, whom Napoleon named Franзois Charles Joseph, soon abated and Napoleon turned his mind back to the growing number of problems besetting his empire. When his advisory council met in the palace on a clear spring day there was little sense of any good cheer that the change of seasons had brought to the capital. Looking down the table Napoleon was struck by how few men of genuine talent remained for him to call on. Talleyrand remained in disgrace. Fouchй had been removed from office after rumours had reached Napoleon’s ear that the Minister of Police was plotting against his master yet again. Fouchй had been attempting to negotiate with the English to discover what terms they would consider, if anything happened to the Emperor. It had been tempting to have Fouchй imprisoned, but the minister had many supporters in the capital, as well as a network of agents across the country. Napoleon could not risk becoming a victim of his vengeance.
Talleyrand had been implicated in the same plot, and had been stripped of his office as the Emperor’s Grand Chamberlain. There was no question that Talleyrand could ever be trusted, but his intelligence and peerless diplomatic connections meant that Napoleon did not dare dispense with his services completely. For the moment Talleyrand must be shunned, to teach him a lesson. In time Napoleon would readmit him to his close circle of advisors, but only when Talleyrand had come to appreciate that his influence and power were at the whim of his Emperor.
Napoleon had replaced Fouchй with General Savary, a man whose loyalty was unquestionable. Sadly, his ability was somewhat more uncertain, and he was neither as well connected as his predecessor, nor as clever and cunning. As a consequence government officials had returned to their old vices and were as corruptible as they had ever been under the Bourbons. The Minister of Finance, Cordet, was equally second rate and relied too heavily on the advice of his subordinates. Lastly, the new Foreign Minister, Maret, had no opinions of his own and merely deferred to everything that the Emperor said.
The members of the council, and two of the imperial secretaries, had arrived first, as protocol dictated, and stood beside the table as they waited for their master to appear. Napoleon arrived promptly at the scheduled time and took his seat. Once he had made himself comfortable he waved a hand at the others. ‘Sit down, gentlemen.’
Their chairs scraped as the officials took their seats, and the secretaries settled at their desks, set to one side. They hurriedly took out inkwells, pens and notebooks from their satchels and prepared to take notes. When he could see that they were ready, Napoleon began.
‘Gentlemen, we have a considerable number of difficulties to resolve, foremost of which is the need to increase the flow of revenue to the treasury. Even allowing for the corruption of sundry officials, our receipts continue to fall. This is not acceptable at a time when it is essential to expand the army and the navy to meet current and future threats. Cordet, you speak for the treasury. What are your plans to deal with the situation?’
Cordet swallowed as he flipped open his folder and quickly consulted his notes. ‘Sire, my officials are doing all that they can to collect taxes efficiently. I am told that a drop in tax raised from trading activities is the area where our loss of income is most pronounced.’
‘And why is that?’
‘Sire, trade is increasingly restricted right across Europe, due to the Continental Blockade,’ he ventured warily. ‘The embargo on trade with England is stifling all of the economies of Europe, including ours.’
‘I am aware of that,’ Napoleon cut in tersely. ‘But we are at war with England. If we are to defeat them then we must strike at their weak spot. England needs to trade with other nations, or die. There is no question of lifting the restrictions on trade with our enemy.’
‘All nations need to trade with England, sire, or their economies will wither. We and our allies have suffered enough already. In fact, I would argue that the Continental Blockade is doing far more to harm France’s cause than to assist it.’
Napoleon frowned. He knew that Cordet spoke the truth. In Holland, Napoleon’s brother, King Louis, had all but abandoned any adherence to the system and the Emperor had been forced to annex the country and run it as a province of France. Louis had fled and gone into hiding, eventually resurfacing in the court of a Bohemian prince. Napoleon had been furious at first, but in the end he put his brother’s resistance to his will down to weakness of mind, and insanity.
Cordet continued.‘Sire, for the good of France, it would be better to dismantle the system at once. Allow free trading to resume and tax revenues will rise.’
Napoleon shook his head. ‘We have almost brought England to her knees. I know it. All it requires is one last push. If we can bind Europe to the system just a little longer England must sue for peace.’
‘With respect, sire, the Continental Blockade is failing. It is openly flouted right across Europe. Why, our ambassador to St Petersburg reports that English goods are freely available in the shops and markets there. English ships come and go from the port without the slightest hindrance. Is that not so?’ Cordet turned to the Foreign Minister.
Maret looked pained, and shrugged. ‘That is what Ambassador Lauriston says. However, he is relatively new in his post and he may have been responding to hearsay. I shall write to him to ask for a more detailed report, sire.’
Cordet shook his head in derision.‘You do that, Maret. Anything but make a decision, eh?’
‘Silence!’ Napoleon intervened. He stared round the table, daring anyone to defy him. Then he continued. ‘While we are at war with England, while our soldiers are needed to subdue Spain and Portugal, and while Russia seems intent on provoking us into a war, then the needs of our economy must serve the needs of our army, and our navy. Therefore we need to raise sufficient funds to pay for them. That is the problem we need to resolve, gentlemen.’
There was a brief silence. Cordet shifted uneasily in his chair.
‘Sire. We have no choice but to cut back on our spending. Since military costs consume such a high proportion of government expenditure, they must be cut back.’
‘No,’ Napoleon responded sharply. ‘There is no question of cutting military expenditure. It would be madness to do that now, on the very cusp of victory.’
‘But, sire, the nation will be in debt for generations to come if you continue spending as you are.’
‘If a country is at war, then it must spend whatever is required to achieve victory. We can worry about the debt when we have achieved peace.’
‘And if we don’t have peace?’ Cordet countered. ‘Our economy will be crippled. Sire, might I remind you that it was the debt of the last of the Bourbon kings that brought on the Revolution. Would you risk a similar fate?’
‘There will not be another revolution. King Louis was weak. He gave too much ground to his opponents and his reign slipped from his fingers. I will not repeat his mistake. I rule with an iron fist.’ He nodded towards Savary. ‘My Minister of Police will ensure that the newspapers report what I want them to report. His agents will ensure that even the smallest hint of conspiracy will be investigated and any plotters eradicated. Is that not so, General?’
Savary nodded. ‘As my Emperor wishes.’
‘Indeed. As I wish,’ Napoleon repeated emphatically.‘Very well, then. Now that we all understand how things stand, let me relate my military requirements to you. Cordet, take note.’ Napoleon continued without any need to refer to his notes. ‘One: the Army of Germany requires eighteen thousand more horses. These must be bought and delivered to training depots before the end of the year. Two: I will need another fifty thousand recruits to bring the armies of Germany and Spain up to full strength. Massйna’s reverses in Portugal have cost France dearly. He must be reinforced so that he can crush Lord Wellington and his army before the year is out. Three: the navy must be expanded as soon as possible. We must make good the losses of Trafalgar and then shift the balance in our favour sufficiently to overwhelm the Royal Navy. To that end I will issue orders for the construction of a hundred new ships of the line, together with seventy-five frigates.’
He looked round the table. Cordet looked stunned.
‘Sire, you ask the impossible. We cannot possibly afford such an expense.’
‘Nevertheless, it will be done. We must be ready for war with Russia, when it comes. I shall expect a report from you within the month explaining to me how these requirements will be financed.’
‘A war with Russia is not inevitable,’ said Maret. ‘We should be concentrating our energies on finding an accommodation with them. It is by far the least costly option, in gold as well as lives.’
‘There can only be one great power in Europe,’ Napoleon said firmly. ‘It must be France, whatever the cost. As things stand, the situation is propitious for striking at Russia next year. At present the Tsar is engaged in a war with Turkey and a large army is tied down in that conflict. For the moment we enjoy good relations with most of the lands bordering Russia and they can be persuaded to contribute men towards the armies we deploy against the Tsar. Now Bernadotte has been called on by the Swedes to be their Crown Prince, we have a united front running from the Baltic to the Black Sea. The time is ripe, gentlemen. We have but to seize the opportunity afforded to us by fate.’
There was another silence before General Savary cleared his throat and spoke up.‘Sire, I have no doubt that you are right about the timing. However, we are heavily committed in Spain. Is it wise to fight two campaigns at once?’
‘I have considered that,’ Napoleon replied, and then smiled faintly. ‘You are right, my dear general. We must deal with Spain. To that end I have already sent word to my brother, King Joseph, to come to Paris to confer. Once our remaining difficulties in Spain are resolved then nothing shall stand in the way of humbling the Tsar.’
Chapter 19
The baptism of the new prince was set for June and the Emperor summoned his family, the leading aristocrats of the empire and foreign dignitaries to witness the ceremony. When King Joseph arrived towards the end of May, the Paris newspapers reported that he had travelled from Madrid to celebrate the arrival of his brother’s heir. The other purpose of his visit - to brief Napoleon on the situation in Spain - was kept secret from the people, particularly since Joseph was the bearer of bad news.
‘Massйna failed to relieve the fortess at Almeida,’ Joseph explained as he walked round the garden at Fontainebleau. It was a fine early summer day, and the new leaves gleamed a vibrant green on the trees, while the last of the cherry blossom floated down on the light breeze. On the lawn, in front of the orangery, the Empress and her ladies in waiting were fussing round the infant boy as he lay in his cot. Napoleon spared them a quick glance as he continued listening to his brother’s report.‘He was turned back by the British army at Fuentes de Oсoro and was forced to retreat. The last message I received from the garrison at Almeida said that the food had run out and their ammunition was almost exhausted. If they were not relieved within ten days the commander said that he would be forced to surrender. There was nothing I could do. Almeida has fallen to Wellington’s army.’
‘Yes. But it can be retaken in due course.’
Joseph paused in mid-stride and turned to his brother. ‘You think it is that simple, brother? I think you overestimate the soundness of our position in Spain. We are fighting a new kind of war in the Peninsula. In order to control the country we have to disperse our troops to police every town, village and road. It is the only way to keep the people in check. Yet whenever Wellington advances we are forced to concentrate our forces and abandon control over the countryside. And if we advance against Wellington with an army large enough to overwhelm him, he simply gives ground, luring us on, to the limit of our supply lines, until we are forced to give up the pursuit. And then we have to pacify the countryside all over again. I tell you, we will lose the war in Spain. While our numbers are whittled away, the enemy grows ever stronger. Our soldiers have been pushed out of Portugal and the British are poised to seize all the frontier fortresses and invade Spain.’
Napoleon shook his head. ‘Wellington is not strong enough to launch an invasion. He has no more than a fifth of the number of men available to you. Besides, I think you overrate his ability. He is the same as all the other British generals - too cautious to cause us much trouble. He cannot afford to lose any men. The longer the war goes on, the more certainly the English army will be frittered away. Besides, he lacks the experience of my marshals. Before he arrived in Portugal he commanded very modest forces out in India. I hardly think that a general of sepoys would be capable of besting the commanders of the finest army in Europe.’
‘Yet that is precisely what Wellington has done,’ Joseph countered. ‘He has beaten Junot, Jourdan, Soult and now Massйna. He is a man to be reckoned with.’
‘As I said, you overrate him. I have read the reports of those battles Wellington claims as his victories. He did not win them, he simply allowed our commanders to lose them through their recklessness. That is all. Hardly a firm basis upon which to build such a reputation as you would ascribe to him, Joseph. I tell you he can, and will, be beaten.’
‘Then why don’t you test yourself against him?’ Joseph stared at his brother intently. ‘The Army of Spain needs you, Napoleon. The men’s spirits are low. They have suffered too many reverses at the hands of that cursed English fox and their nerves are worn down by the bands of peasants that dog them wherever they march. The men are a long way from France, from home, and they can see no end to the war they wage in the Peninsula. They say that they have been forgotten by their Emperor.’
‘Forgotten?’ Napoleon exhaled irritably. ‘Who do they think sends the convoys of gold to keep them paid? Do I not make them plenty of awards for bravery and fine performances? Well?’
‘It is not enough. They need you to lead them. To fill their hearts with inspiration once again. Then we could be sure of crushing Wellington once and for all. After that the Spanish will give up the fight and we will have peace.’
Napoleon considered his brother’s words for a moment. He did not deny it was tempting to teach his marshals in Spain that the redcoats were not invincible, as some of them seemed inclined to believe. But then, defeating Wellington would hardly be an achievement worthy of him, he concluded.
‘Joseph, I cannot afford to leave Paris. There are matters here that demand my attention.’
‘More than settling the issue in Spain?’
‘Even more important than that.’ Napoleon turned and continued walking along the path between the flowerbeds, head down and hands clasped behind his back. He had grown heavy from taking too little exercise in the past year and after a moment the discomfort of his arms pressing round his portly body made him release his hands and fold them across his chest instead. Joseph took a few quick steps to resume his place at his brother’s side. They walked in silence for a moment, and the only sounds were the gravel that crunched under their boots, the occasional cry of a peacock, and the laughter and faint snatches of high-spirited conversation of the Empress and her coterie. High above, puffy clouds floated across the sky, serene and unblemished.
‘It is a fine day,’ Joseph said. ‘I had almost forgotten that a man could feel peace like this. It has been such a long time. I would give up the Spanish throne in an instant - if I was permitted to.’
‘You shall do no such thing,’ Napoleon responded without looking up. ‘I have already removed one brother from a throne. I dare not risk the same happening to another Bonaparte. You will remain in Spain, on the throne, and we will win the war there.’
‘And if we don’t win? If we can’t win? Then what? You would leave me there to be torn apart by the mob? Have you not read of what they do to the French officers they capture? Why, the bastards sawed one of our generals in half, and they boiled another alive. Can you imagine that?’ Joseph shook his head in horror. ‘We should cut our losses and abandon Spain completely. That’s my advice, brother.’
‘And that is why you are not Emperor,’ Napoleon replied curtly.‘You lack the necessary appreciation of the wider situation. Spain is but one theatre of war. However, what happens there influences the rest of Europe. If you fail me in Spain, then our enemies will be emboldened to defy us elsewhere.’
