THE GENERALS

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THE GENERALS Page 7

by Simon Scarrow


  When his older brother, Joseph, stepped through the door of Napoleon’s new home and beheld him in the uniform of a general, tears of selfless pride pricked at the corners of his eyes before he hugged his brother.

  ‘If only Father could see you now!’

  Napoleon nodded. Their father, Carlos, had sacrificed much to send his two oldest sons to good schools in France. It had been a cruel fate that he died too soon to see their success.

  Joseph released Napoleon and stood aside to allow Letizia and the other brothers and sisters to crowd round.There was Lucien, the next boy, who had already made a reputation for himself in Marseilles, espousing the radical politics of the Jacobin party. Louis and Jérôme were already attending a school near Paris. His sisters, Caroline, Pauline and Élisa, stood round him, admiring his best uniform coat with the gleaming braid that marked him out as a general.

  Letizia held off until the last before she kissed her son formally on each cheek. ‘I knew you had it in you to achieve greatness. But keep your feet on the ground, my boy. There are people in this world who will try to use you and your new position for their own ends.’

  ‘Mother!’ Napoleon laughed.‘I am a grown man now. I know how to look after myself.’

  ‘You are your father’s son,’ she replied wearily. ‘And I know how easily led he was.’

  Napoleon frowned. ‘I am no fool, Mother.’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  In view of her smothering attitude it was nearly a month before Napoleon revealed to his family that he intended to get married.

  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.’

 

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