‘The motion is carried,’ announced the president and Lucien raised his hands to silence the muttering that echoed round the hall. ‘This session is now suspended. It will be resumed at St-Cloud tomorrow. Honoured gentlemen, I would ask you to leave the chamber at once and make your arrangements for transfer to St-Cloud.’
As the senators began to mutter to each other, Napoleon edged closer to his brother and spoke softly. ‘That seemed to go well enough.’
‘For now, but there may well be a few problems tomorrow, once they wake up to the true scope of the new arrangements.’
‘And what will my part be? I felt a bit like a tailor’s dummy just standing there.’
‘It’s better that you say nothing. It’s important that you are seen to be above the debate. Leave that to the politicians and it will seem that the army is not forcing the issue. Otherwise the Jacobins who are still at large will have the mob on the streets before you know it.’
‘The mob will not be happy once they get wind of the changes.’
‘Once we secure the support of both houses tomorrow everything will seem perfectly legal and democratic. There will be no justification for opposing us, and any who attempt it will be arrested and dealt with according to the law, whatever we decide the law is after tomorrow.’ Lucien smiled, and slapped his brother on the shoulder. ‘Rest easy, Napoleon.We’ve done all that we set out to achieve. Tomorrow’s votes are no more than a formality.’
‘I hope so,’ Napoleon replied as he watched the last of the senators file out of the hall. Some looked back at him with nervous expressions, some with defiant glares.
The next day, the debates at St-Cloud were delayed as the halls chosen to act as makeshift debating chambers were not fully prepared, and the deputies and senators walked the grounds in small groups, talking quietly under the gaze of the grenadiers who guarded the building. Lucien and Napoleon were watching them from a balcony above the garden.
‘I don’t like the look of this,’ Lucien said quietly. ‘The delay is giving the Jacobins a chance to get organised. They could cause us a problem in the house of deputies.’
‘But you’re the president of the chamber,’ said Napoleon.‘You can control the debate, make sure it goes our way.’
‘I’ll do my best, of course, but the vote will be close. I think it best if you remain outside the chamber today. This lot have more balls than the senate and won’t be quite so easily impressed by your presence.’
As soon as the halls were prepared Lucien and his followers ushered the deputies inside, and as they took up their seats it was clear that many of them regarded him with open hostility.When the last of them was in position, the doors to the hall were closed and Napoleon joined the officers and men waiting in the courtyard of St-Cloud. As soon as the debate opened the cheers and roars of protest occasionally carried outside to those waiting for the outcome, where Napoleon paced anxiously up and down the flagstones round the long ornamental pond. At noon, Junot rode into the courtyard and dismounted. He marched to Napoleon’s side.
‘What’s the news, sir?’
‘Nothing! They sit there on their fat lawyer arses and talk and talk. God! It’s a wonder that the government ever decides on anything.’ He shook his head in frustration. ‘And Paris, Junot? What is the reaction on the streets?’
‘They’re tame enough. Rumours are circulating, but that’s all. We control all the streets around the Tuileries and the National Assembly. There won’t be any uprising, or protest that we can’t handle.’
‘Good . . . That’s something at least.’ Napoleon stared at the hall housing the deputies and slapped his hand against his thigh in irritation. ‘Damn it, why can’t they just get on with the vote?’
Junot was silent for a moment, then glanced round to make sure that he would not be overheard before he spoke in a low voice. ‘Sir, may I ask what the orders will be if the vote goes against us?’
Napoleon looked at him. ‘It won’t go against us.’
‘But what if it does, sir? What then?’
‘I tell you it won’t, and I’ll make sure of that right now.’ Napoleon turned to the nearest group of grenadiers, who were talking quietly as they puffed on their pipes. ‘You men, form up! You’re my escort to the debating chamber, so put those pipes out and smarten yourselves up!’
‘What are you doing, sir?’ Junot muttered.
‘It’s time I spoke to our worthy deputies myself, and put them right on a few issues.’
‘Is that wise, sir?’ Junot asked anxiously. ‘If you intervene, they will be calling you a tyrant on the streets of Paris before the day is out.’
‘Better that, than let those fools ruin everything that we have gained so far.’ Napoleon turned to the squad of soldiers formed up at his back and snapped his fingers. ‘Follow me!’
He led them inside the house, and up the flight of stairs that led to the debating chamber. Two men from the national guard stood outside the doors and they moved uncertainly to block Napoleon’s path.
‘Out of my way!’
‘General, you cannot enter. The chamber is in closed session.’
‘Then it’s time we opened the debate up,’ Napoleon replied and pushed the men aside. They were too shocked to react as he grasped the handles of the doors and thrust them open, so hard that one crashed back against the doorframe. Inside the ballroom hundreds of faces turned towards the doorway. Lucien, sitting on a large chair at a long table on a dais, glared at his brother. The speaker at the lectern pointed towards Napoleon. ‘What is the meaning of this intrusion, General Bonaparte? Why are there soldiers with you?’
Napoleon ignored the speaker as he marched into the chamber and indicated that his soldiers should form up beside the platform on which the lectern rested. He turned to Lucien. ‘I request permission to address the assembly.’
Lucien glanced round the hall. Most of the deputies seemed too stunned by the intervention to react. Several of the Jacobins were talking quietly to each other as they shot hostile looks towards his brother. If he denied Napoleon the chance to speak, then his brother would leave the chamber humiliated. Lucien realised that his hand had been forced. He cleared his throat.
‘The Assembly recognises General Bonaparte, and will hear him speak.’
Napoleon bowed his head. ‘Thank you, President.’ He climbed the three steps to the platform and strode towards the lectern. The speaker still stood there, and Napoleon gestured to the steps on the other side of the platform. ‘Return to your seat . . . please.’
For a moment Napoleon was worried that the man might defy him and refuse to give up the platform, but then he took a pace back and retreated towards the steps, causing a ripple of whispering and angry muttering to sweep through the hall. Lucien banged his gavel down several times until the chamber was silent again. When all was still, Napoleon gripped the edge of the lectern and stared out over the anxious white faces that surrounded him like a field of tennis balls. He felt a surge of contempt for these men who sat on their fat arses and talked while he and his men marched and bled for France. He drew a breath and began.
‘Citizens, my soldiers and I have been waiting for a decision for over three hours. I . . . we cannot understand the reason for the delay. Nor will France understand the reason.’
A man in the front row of seats to the left of the platform jumped up and stabbed his finger towards Napoleon.‘You do not speak for France! You are a soldier, a subordinate of the state. We are the voice of France!’
As the chamber filled with cries of support for the deputy, Lucien hammered his gavel furiously until silence returned.‘I am sure that General Bonaparte is aware of the authority of the Assembly of Deputies. He will not need reminding again. Please continue, General.’
Napoleon gave the deputy who had interrupted him a withering stare, then resumed. ‘Every man in this room, from the president of the chamber down to the most junior of my grenadiers there, speaks for France, and desires only that she might vanquish her ene
mies and improve the lot of her people. For that to happen there must be change. That was accepted yesterday by the Directors and the members of the senate.All that remains is for this chamber to complete the process by voting for the provisional government.’ He thrust a hand out and pointed at the audience accusingly. ‘If you fail to do that, and do it immediately, then you fail your people and you fail France herself !’
The deputy was on his feet again, and took several steps towards the platform as he shouted, ‘How dare you address the house in such a fashion!’
More cries of protest echoed round the chamber and several of the Jacobins stood and waved their fists in the air. Napoleon regarded them with a cold expression and folded his arms while he waited for them to fall silent again as Lucien hammered away. But the clamour just grew and now most of the deputies were on their feet and pressing forward towards the platform. The sergeant in charge of the grenadiers glanced round at Napoleon, waiting for instructions. For the first time Napoleon felt a prickle of anxiety at the base of his spine and he nodded to the sergeant and indicated the front of the platform. The sergeant barked an order to his men and they thrust their way through the crowd until they formed a cordon between Napoleon and the deputies. Lucien gave up his attempt to restore order and hurried over to his brother.
‘We have to get out of here. Now.’
‘I’m not afraid of these fools.’
Lucien grabbed his arm and hissed, ‘It’s you who are the fool! Because of you we risk losing everything! Now let’s go before they tear us to pieces.’
Napoleon glanced back at the deputies and saw that a number of them had drawn knives and were brandishing them overhead, their faces contorted with anger. Their cries of rage and protest filled the hall and assaulted him from every side. He turned to Lucien and nodded. ‘Let’s go.’
It took an effort to walk calmly to the edge of the platform and descend to the floor. The grenadiers used their muskets to push the crowd back and create a small cordon round the two brothers, and then they forced their way back towards the door. Napoleon stared straight ahead and did not look at the angry faces shouting at him from only a few feet away. He felt something strike his cheek and realised that someone had spat on him. Abruptly he stopped, but Lucien took his arm and forced him on, towards the door. ‘Keep going!’
They were pursued out of the chamber and the deputies only gave up when Napoleon, Lucien and their escort hurriedly retreated down the stairs. Shaken, the two brothers emerged into the courtyard where hundreds of other soldiers and officers had gathered in response to the deafening howls of protest from the chamber. They stared at their commander in shock and Lucien gripped his arm.
‘Speak to them! Say something quickly!’
‘Say what?’
‘Napoleon, for God’s sake, all will be decided in the next few minutes.We’ve lost the debate. Now we must use force.The men are waiting for a lead.You’d better give it right now, or everything is lost.’
He gave his older brother a gentle push and Napoleon stepped forward, on to the edge of the flight of steps that looked out over the courtyard. Napoleon drew a deep breath and thrust out his arms towards his men.
‘Soldiers! We are betrayed. The deputies have defied the will of the Directors, the senators and the people of France! They would seek to sell their loyalty to our enemies. They even attempted to assassinate the president of the chamber and me just a moment ago. I wanted to speak to the deputies and they answered me with daggers!’ Napoleon beat his fist against his chest. ‘I have served the revolution since the first. I have shed my blood on the battlefield for the revolution and you all know how many victories I have won for the honour of France.Yet they call me traitor! They are the traitors! The crisis is at hand, my comrades. If we hesitate now then all France is lost! We must clear out that nest of traitors.’ He stabbed a finger towards the debating chamber and many of the soldiers cheered.
Lucien noticed that a good many still did not look convinced. He stepped forward and drew Napoleon’s sword and held it aloft. ‘Soldiers! Soldiers, hear me! I am Lucien Bonaparte, brother of the general. I love him as dearly as my life itself, yet I swear to you that I would run him through with this blade if ever he threatened the liberty that we have gained through the revolution!’ His voice trembled with emotion and the men in the courtyard were visibly moved by his words. Lucien pressed on. ‘The revolution is in grave danger, soldiers. The royalists are on the verge of victory. Only we can stop them.The cry once more is, To Arms! Long live General Bonaparte! Long live the revolution! Long live France!’
The soldiers took up the cheers and the deafening roar filled the courtyard.While it continued, Napoleon found the officer in command of the grenadiers and hurriedly gave his orders. The men formed up quickly and with a drummer beating the advance they tramped into the building and up the stairs towards the debating chamber. The deputies, who were busy debating a motion to declare Napoleon an outlaw, turned nervously towards the sound. As the doors were flung open by the soldiers panic gripped them and they ran from the hall, knocking chairs and each other over as they scrambled towards the other exits and even the windows, dropping down into the gardens below before streaming away from St-Cloud.
Only a handful remained. Those who were the most loyal supporters of Lucien and his brother. As night fell the president returned to the chamber. He stared at the rows of overturned chairs and abandoned notebooks and papers. Then he calmly resumed his seat on the platform. A company of grenadiers guarded the entrances with orders not to admit anyone. Lucien had prepared a document which he now read out to the handful of deputies gathered before him.
‘The motion before the chamber of deputies is that this house approves the decisions of the Directors and senators of the republic to dissolve the government, pending the drafting of a new constitution by a provisional body.’ He looked up. ‘All those in favour?’ His words echoed round the hall with a hollow sound as his supporters raised their hands.There was a brief pause before Lucien smiled. ‘The motion is carried unanimously.’ He banged his gavel. ‘I declare this session closed, and the house dissolved. My thanks to you, gentlemen. My thanks, and the gratitude of the nation.’
Lucien was the last to leave the chamber and he paused to take a final look round before he smiled and went to find his brother, who was waiting in one of the drawing rooms with the other senior officers, as well as Sieyès and Ducos.
‘It’s done,’ he announced simply.‘All authority has now passed into the hands of the provisional consulate.’ He bowed his head to Sieyès and Ducos. ‘May I be the first to offer you my congratulations?’
Then he turned to Napoleon. ‘First Consul, what are your orders?’
Chapter 52
‘Moreau?’ Napoleon eased himself lower into his bath so that the water lapped over the edge of his chin. He shook his head. ‘And what does General Moreau have to say to me today?’
Bourrienne broke the seal and unfolded the dispatch. He held it carefully so that the perspiration that glistened on his brow did not drip on to the paper and make the ink run. The steam that filled the bathroom of Napoleon’s apartment at the Luxembourg Palace was bad enough already for the documents that Bourrienne was obliged to bring in to read to the First Consul, while Napoleon spent up to two hours at a time immersed in the hottest water that he could stand. Peculiar working conditions, Bourrienne thought to himself, but then Napoleon was a peculiar individual. Since the December plebiscite had confirmed popular support for the new constitution, Napoleon had drawn to himself the workload of almost every major office of state.The First Consul worked seventeen or eighteen hours a day, not counting his baths, and there seemed to be no detail, however small, that ever escaped his phenomenal memory. With a mind like that in charge of France’s affairs the other two consuls had soon proved to be superfluous. Sieyès and Ducos, after some faltering efforts to stand alongside Napoleon, had accepted the inevitable and given up their posts at the heart of the new governmen
t. But not everyone supported Napoleon’s rise to power. Many politicians and army officers were uncertain about the bloodless coup of November, and none more so than Moreau.
In the weeks that followed Napoleon had been careful to reward his followers and make peace with his rivals. Murat had been appointed commander of the Consular Guard - a hand-picked corps of tough veterans whose duty it was to protect Napoleon. Murat had also been permitted to take Caroline Bonaparte as his bride, and while Napoleon was glad to have such a formidable soldier for a brother-in-law he could not help thinking that Murat had his work cut out with the most shrewish of Napoleon’s sisters. Fouché was now head of police and Talleyrand was in charge of foreign affairs. Masséna was in command of the Army of Italy, Berthier would shortly be in command of the Army of Reserve and Moreau had the most prestigious command of them all - the well-equipped and hard-fighting Army of the Rhine. Which was where Napoleon’s chief difficulty lay.
Bourrienne quickly scanned the note and then began to read it through.‘He’s taking issue again with your plan for the coming campaign.’>
Napoleon was silent for a moment, his brow gradually tightening into a dark scowl as he stared at the chandelier overhead. At length he muttered, ‘Damn the man, what does he think he is playing at? We must beat Austria and we must beat her swiftly.To do that we must destroy her armies and take Vienna before autumn sets in. Any fool can see that. But not Moreau. No, he wants to creep forward like a tortoise, and duck back into his shell the moment he senses danger. Bastard . . .’
Bourrienne refrained from comment, and waited a moment before coughing lightly. ‘Do you wish me to take down a letter to him, sir?’
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