Barras rose from his seat and approached the lectern in front of the Directors and raised a hand to quiet the deputies and the other guests.When all was still he drew a deep breath and began the address.
‘Citizens! It is an honour to welcome General Bonaparte here today. Few words can begin to describe the debt that France owes to the young commander of our forces in Italy. Outnumbered and outgunned by the Austrians, nevertheless General Bonaparte defeated them in a string of victories that would have graced the record of Alexander the Great himself . . .’
Napoleon almost winced at the hyperbole, but had the presence of mind to stand stiffly and stare past Barras and the other Directors to the tapestry on the wall behind. It depicted a Roman triumph and Napoleon fixed his attention on it to avoid paying too much attention to the flowery phrases and craven appeals for support that tumbled from Barras’s lips as the address went on, and on, as the Director indulged himself in the long-winded oratory that politicians were inclined to treat as a birthright.
‘. . . so he has brought us peace with Austria and for the first time the people of France are unchallenged on our landward borders. Only England stands in the way of a general peace in Europe, and it is my supreme pleasure to announce that General Bonaparte has been appointed to command of the Army of England, with orders to prepare a large-scale assault across the channel.’ He paused to sweep his arm out towards Napoleon and beamed.
Napoleon’s lips twisted into a smile and he nodded his head, while inside he was furious with the Directory. The Army of England was little more than an aspiration. A few tired divisions of worn-out veterans gathered in camps scattered along the coast between Boulogne and Calais. Napoleon had little doubt that this was an attempt to lure him into obscurity, away from the battlefield and far from the gaze of the French people.
Barras rounded his speech off with a few more flowery phrases extolling the brilliance of the young warrior who had won the affection of his nation, and then stood aside and beckoned Napoleon towards the podium as the applause filled the audience chamber like a hailstorm clattering off roof tiles. As he approached the lectern Napoleon realised that it was higher than he had thought, and would make him look like a child as his shoulders and head would only just be visible over the top of it.Yet another clever ploy by Barras to undermine him, Napoleon realised. With a faint smile he stepped away from the lectern to the very edge of the podium so that behind him the audience would see the soldiers assigned to protect the Directors, and not the Directors themselves. From the corner of his eye he saw Barras frown as he realised that he had been trumped.
Napoleon drew a deep breath and placing his hands behind his back he waited until the audience chamber was quiet again. Then he gestured briefly towards Barras.
‘I thank the Director for his generous praise, which I accept on behalf of the brave soldiers I had the privilege of commanding in Italy.They are the true heroes of the war against Austria and it is to them that we are greatly indebted.’ He paused as a fresh outburst of applause filled the room.‘No general could have been served better and I was able to plan for victory in the full confidence that my soldiers would carry out their orders with no thought for their own safety. In battle after battle my comrades and I were fired by one ambition: to see that the principles and ideals of the revolution would not perish from this earth, but emerge from the flames and smoke of battle triumphant. We fought for France, and France fought for us.Victory was made possible by the keen intelligence of the Directors who well understood that the sinews of victory lay in the generous provision of supplies and reinforcements.To them I offer thanks, on behalf of the Army of Italy.’ He turned and bowed towards the Directors as the audience cheered his gallant magnanimity. Napoleon noted with wry amusement the look of surprise that flashed across Barras’s face before he acknowledged the applause. It was an obvious ploy, Napoleon reflected, but by praising the Directors he hoped to make them feel indebted to him, as well as considering him a loyal supporter of the present regime.
‘Of course, we are all aware that the treaty with Austria does not mark the end of war, only the opening of a new phase, as France turns its attention towards defeating England. Today, I dedicate myself to that end. I will not rest until we have beaten the English and ended the fruitless agonies of war in Europe. Wherever I serve, I swear by all that I hold dear that I will not spare myself, or the men I command, until the enemies of France are crushed and compelled to accept peace on our terms!’
He folded his arms and tilted his head back to indicate that his brief reply to Barras was over. At once the audience erupted into wild cheers of adulation that echoed back off the walls and ceiling of the audience chamber in a deafening roar. Barras leaped up from his chair and strode over to Napoleon and embraced him, planting a moist kiss on either cheek. Then with his arm around Napoleon’s shoulders Barras paraded him from one side of the dais to the other, encouraging further applause with waves of his spare hand. Napoleon had a smile fixed on his face, but inside he felt nothing but contempt for Barras, fully aware of the fear he provoked in the Director. Fear and jealousy. Especially since Napoleon had won not only the affection of the people, but also that of Barras’s former lover, Josephine.
The ceremony over, Barras escorted Napoleon out of the audience chamber and down the long hall, flanked by footmen and soldiers who stamped to attention as they passed by. Outside the palace a huge crowd had filled the street and they roared with excitement as they caught sight of Napoleon.
Waving to the crowd as he stood beside Napoleon, Barras leaned closer and muttered into his ear.
‘I rather fear that the mob would make you their king. It is as well that you are a soldier and not a politician.’
‘Perhaps,’ Napoleon replied quietly. ‘Just as it is as well, for the sake of our armies, that you are a politician and not a soldier.’
Barras turned to look at him. ‘Then we understand one another, Bonaparte. As long as I permit you to operate in your sphere, you will do me the courtesy of not interfering in mine. Agreed?’
‘Very well, Director.’
‘Good.’ Barras smiled and gestured towards the cheering crowd.‘Then enjoy your moment of adulation, Bonaparte. While it lasts.’
That evening, Napoleon sat in his study with Lucien as they shared a bottle of wine. Napoleon had been pondering the day’s events and his aside with Barras and had come to a decision.
‘Lucien, I can’t bear to remain here in Paris for much longer. I cannot play at politics. Not yet. Not until the patience of the people has been tested beyond endurance by Barras and his cronies. Only then will they be ready for something different. In the meantime I have a reputation to build, and the best place to do that is on the battlefield.’
Lucien frowned. ‘I thought you said that the invasion of England was impossible.’
‘It is. That’s why I have to persuade the Directors to back an invasion of Egypt, and make me the commander of the expeditionary force.’
‘Egypt?’ Lucien shook his head. ‘Are you mad? If you go to Egypt you’ll disappear from public sight. How can you build any kind of popular support from Egypt?’
‘Lucien, believe me, the way things are going in Paris, I’d better stay away from here. I do not want to be tainted by any association with Barras and his regime. When the people start getting disillusioned they will look for someone outside Paris, someone young enough to represent a new order. I’ll fit their needs as well as any other. So Egypt it is.’
Lucien considered for a moment, and then he nodded.‘Maybe you’re right, brother. It would be for the best. And I can imagine that Barras and the other Directors will be only too pleased to see the back of you.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Napoleon smiled. ‘You can count on it.’
At the start of the new year Napoleon wrote to Josephine to ask her to return to Paris. While he waited for her, he embarked on a campaign to win the Directors over to his scheme for the invasion of Egypt. A quick tour of the army
camps and ports of the Channel coast armed him with the ammunition to fill his reports on the unfeasibility of any invasion of Britain.At the same time he was busy planning for the expedition to Egypt, bombarding the Directors with analyses of the strategic advantages of a campaign to cut across England’s trade with the east, with a view to eventually wresting India from the grasp of the East India Company.
Meanwhile, Talleyrand began his own manoeuvres, pointing out to Barras the diplomatic possibilities of moving an army into Egypt. The vast Ottoman empire was crumbling and the Sultan was near to losing any authority over the governors of his provinces. If the Sultan could be won over to the side of France then the entire Levant could be denied to English ships.
The Directory asked Napoleon to advise them on the scale of the forces needed. He replied early in March. Twenty-five thousand infantry, fifteen hundred gunners and three thousand cavalry, most of whom could be mounted once the army arrived in Egypt. A strong naval escort would be required to protect the convoy across the Mediterranean, and with good fortune they might be able to seize Malta on the way.
A few days after he submitted his report, Napoleon was called to the Luxembourg Palace to meet the Directors. He was there nearly all day and only returned home as dusk closed over the capital, bringing with it thick clouds and a heavy downpour of icy rain. Josephine was waiting for him and helped to take off his sodden cape when he entered the house. He strode through to the sitting room where a fire glowed in the grate, casting an orange hue over the room and causing Napoleon’s blurry shadow to waver behind him, huge and brooding.
‘They have appointed me to command the army.’
Josephine stood beside him, slipping her arm through his. ‘It’s what you hoped for.’
‘Yes. I thought so.’ Napoleon turned towards her, and cupped her cheek in his hand as he kissed her on the lips. ‘Until now.’
‘How long will you be away?’
Napoleon was silent for a moment before he replied. ‘At least a year. I’ve offered Eugène an appointment on my staff.’
‘I know. He told me.’
‘I think it will be the making of him. His father would have been proud to see his son in uniform. You should be proud of him too.’
‘Oh, I am. But it’s hard not to think of him as my little boy.’ A fond smile flickered across her lips. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘Of course. But this campaign will be different. If we fail . . . if we are defeated, then there will be no pity for the survivors. Our enemies will not wage war in the manner we are used to. I will take as few women with us as possible. Certainly, I want to spare you the rigours of the campaign. It will be a comfort to know you are safe in Paris.’
‘As you wish,’ she replied flatly.
‘I’ll write as often as I can. I hope this time you will be as diligent in your replies.’
‘I will. I swear it.’ Josephine put her arms round his shoulders and drew him into her embrace. ‘When do you leave?’
‘In May. I wish there was more time.’ He kissed her again. ‘I wish that it was safe for you to come with me.’
She leaned towards his ear and kissed his neck, then whispered, ‘I suppose I’d only be a distraction. If I were to cause your concentration to wander on the eve of battle, I don’t know if I could bear to have that weighing on my conscience.’
‘Then we’d better get the distractions out of the way now.’ Napoleon kissed the smooth curve of her neck and pressed a hand on her breast. ‘Let’s go to bed.’
Chapter 29
Egypt, July 1798
The three-decker, L’Orient, loomed above the other ships of the fleet that lay at anchor off the coast of Egypt. Napoleon checked his pocket watch by the light of the brilliant moon, and swore. It was already three o’clock in the morning and barely five thousand of his men had been landed on the shore close to the village of Marabout. Alexandria lay less than ten miles to the east and Napoleon wanted to open his attack on the port at first light. Even though the order to begin landing had been given the previous afternoon, the men were thoroughly seasick and the rough waves and pounding surf had made loading the smaller craft a hazardous affair. Several men had been drowned and those that had made it to the shore were disorientated, drenched and already desperately thirsty.Their officers were scouring the shore for their men and trying to form them up ready to march on Alexandria. General Reynier had reported that only three hundred men from his division were assembled and waiting for orders.Worse news had followed. None of the horses or guns had been landed yet, and General Desaix and his soldiers had been landed on the wrong beach.
Napoleon saw an officer striding towards him and recognised Berthier in the pale light of the moon.
‘Sir, what units we have are formed up and ready to advance. What are your orders?’
‘We’ll attack,’ Napoleon replied at once. ‘After I’ve addressed them. Get a platform set up, and light some torches. I want our men to see me, not just some vague shadow. Arrange it at once.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Berthier saluted and turned away. Napoleon watched him for a moment and then stared back out to sea. Despite his present difficulties, it was hard to believe how lucky the expedition had been in recent weeks. The fleet had stopped en route to seize Malta.The Grand Master of the Knights of St John, who had so rashly declared war on France a few months earlier, had surrendered the formidable fortresses of Valletta after a brief exchange of fire. If the Knights had shown the same resolve against France as they had against the Turks then hundreds, perhaps thousands, of lives would have been lost. As it was, Napoleon had been able to liberate two hundred galley slaves, who even now were making their way through Egypt with proclamations written in Arabic promising the fellahin - the peasants - that Napoleon and his army were here to liberate them from their Turkish overlords. Better still, the vast fortune of the Knights had been seized and divided, the main portion being returned to France while Napoleon added the rest to his war chest.
The slow progress of the fleet that had caused Napoleon so much anxiety had saved it from destruction by the squadron of English warships under Lord Nelson that had been sent to intercept the French fleet. Nelson had overshot his target and arrived at Alexandria three days ahead of Napoleon, before turning north to search the sea in the direction of Cyprus, just hours before the French fleet arrived.
Clearly his lucky star was burning with its usual brilliance, Napoleon reflected with a smile. But good fortune had played its hand and now it was up to Napoleon to seize the initiative and take full advantage of the situation. He had briefly considered delaying the attack on Alexandria until his scattered force could be gathered in when morning came. However, any advantage he gained in numbers would be offset by the advance warning the Mameluke garrison would have of the approach of the French invaders. Regardless of the lack of any guns or cavalry, the attack would have to be launched as soon as possible.
Berthier formed the men up along three sides of a platform hastily constructed from some water barrels and the door from one of the hovels in Marabout. A torch flared at each corner and Napoleon clambered up, illuminated by the flickering glare. He paused a moment to catch his breath and then filled his lungs and began to address his men.
‘Soldiers! At first light you will be in sight of one of the wonders of the ancient world - the port of Alexandria. It is named after its founder, the greatest conqueror in history, Alexander the Great. Today we will take the first steps in following the route he took in conquering an empire that spanned the known world. But where the Greeks called a halt to their march we shall go on and claim an even greater empire for the glory of France!’
A cheer rose from the grey ranks facing him in the moonlight. He waited for it to subside before he continued. ‘Although we are here to fight an enemy, it is vital that you remember we are far from our homeland.We must win over the local people, or we will never be able to rest at night. So you will respect their religion.You will respect their customs
. Any man caught looting or raping will be shot on the spot. We are here to liberate the people, not their chattels or their chastity!’ The men laughed good-naturedly and Napoleon nodded to himself. Despite the trials of the landing, their spirits were high and they would recover their fighting mettle the moment they closed on the enemy.
Napoleon snatched his hat off his head and thrust it aloft.‘For France! For liberty, equality and fraternity! And most of all, for victory!’
Once the cheers had died away Napoleon left orders that Desaix should be told to guard the beachhead as soon as he was located.Then he gave the order for the men to form a marching column and they set off, their boots shuffling quietly across the sand as they advanced on Alexandria.
Even though the distance was not great it was tiring ground to march over, and even the men of Napoleon’s personal bodyguard began to mutter and grumble as the sand gave and shifted under their boots.At least the brilliant illumination in the star-scattered heavens made it possible to see clearly for some distance and there was none of the usual night march anxiety of an ambush or a sudden engagement. As dawn streaked the eastern sky with pastel pink and orange hues Napoleon caught his first glimpse of Alexandria from the crest of a dune. The image of the great city of Alexander that he had carried in his head since childhood bore little resemblance to the present reality. A grey wall stretched round the perimeter of what was no more than a minor town by European standards. Beyond the wall he could see a sprawl of flat and domed roofs and dun-coloured buildings. A large triangular fort lay to one side of the track that led up to the western gate, and as the head of the French column descended the far slope of the dune a dull thud made Napoleon look up to see a puff of smoke roll lazily along the nearest wall of the fort. A moment later a column of sand leaped up from the ground a short distance from the head of the column.
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