‘Careful?’ Napoleon seemed vaguely insulted by the idea. ‘Don’t worry about him. I know exactly what he is. Every inch an aristocrat, but at least he has his country’s interests at heart. I can trust him that far at least.’
Josephine pursed her lips. ‘Perhaps . . .’ She sipped her tea and then continued. ‘This peace. Do you think it will last?’
‘No,’ Napoleon replied bluntly. ‘The English have given up more than they would like, and it has not resolved the issues which caused the war in the first place. In truth this treaty is doomed. But at least there will be a short peace for all Europe to celebrate. That, at least, is a good thing.’
Josephine looked at him steadily. ‘Does that mean that you will have more time to spend with me? It seems, since the attempt on your life, that you have been working harder than ever. It feels as if . . . as if you have been avoiding me for some reason.’
Napoleon stared at her. He saw the hurt look in her eyes and suddenly realised how much he had been taking her for granted. Yet he did not want to assume the mantle of blame. ‘It is not my fault, Josephine. France needs me. I must devote myself to the nation. It is my duty.There is so much to do. So much still to be done.’
She raised a hand to stop him. ‘I know. I know all of that. It’s true. But I am your wife, Napoleon. Is there no obligation to me? What about your duty to me? When Hortense was injured you know whom I had to turn to for comfort? My son. Because my husband was too busy.’
The words were spoken in a cold, harsh tone that wounded him.
Josephine continued.‘You are too busy because you choose to be. There is not one branch of government that you do not oversee and interfere with. I overheard a comment made by one of your officials the other day. As you were dictating a letter, he leaned to one of his companions and muttered “God created Bonaparte, and then He rested.” I wouldn’t be flattered by that, if I were you. I got the distinct impression that he was ridiculing your ambitions.’
‘Who said that?’
‘I will not tell you,’ she replied firmly. There was a tense silence between them for a moment before Josephine continued in a more concerned tone,‘I don’t think it is healthy for one man to work so hard. Not for you and not for France.’
‘Why?’
‘If you shoulder every responsibility that you can, then what happens to France if you are taken from us?You cannot guarantee immunity from sickness, or from a bomb for that matter. The country would be thrown into anarchy if you were lost.’
Napoleon nodded. ‘I had thought of that.’
Josephine leaned forward and took his hand. ‘Then you must find some men to share the burden with you. Men you can trust.’
‘No. Power shared is power weakened. The only guarantee of a stable future for France is for me to remain in control of the government, and the army.’ He stared at his wife, wondering how far he should trust her with his thoughts. Then her barbed comments about his failings as a husband cut into his heart again. He owed her his trust at the very least. Napoleon pressed her hand between his and lowered his voice.‘I’ve already made up my mind. France needs me to remain her master. I must become First Consul for life, and I must have the power to choose a successor. Only that will guarantee a better future for our people.’
Josephine shook her head. ‘You are mad. All this power has turned your head. Do you think for a moment that all those politicians in the assemblies will agree to that?’
‘No, I don’t,’ Napoleon conceded, and then smiled faintly. ‘And that is why I have no intention of asking for their agreement.’
Chapter 64
The cardinal from Rome began his delivery in Latin and the words, read in a monotone, echoed round the interior of Notre-Dame. Most of the guests had little understanding of the language and looked on with feigned expressions of interest and respect as the Holy Father’s message was delivered. The consuls were sitting to one side of the pulpit, while the rest of the audience sat in neat ranks facing the cardinal, dressed in their finery. Napoleon had already been shown a translation and was reassured that there were no unpleasant surprises in the Pope’s greeting to the Catholics of France and his expression of great happiness over the reconciliation of the French people and the Church. In truth, Napoleon thought it a rather dull document with little of the fiery passion of the great speeches of the leaders of the revolution. Still, if it gave the peasants what they wanted and helped to draw the people of France closer together, the Concordat would prove to be very useful. For a moment he marvelled at the power that religion wielded over the minds of men when science and philosophy offered so much more insight into the workings of the world and the people who populated it. Religion was little more than the codification of sundry superstitions and prejudices, he decided. It was not amenable to reason, much like the spirit that animated those who persisted in their loyalty to the Bourbon monarchy. In due course, compulsory education of the masses would put paid to religion - Napoleon already had the outline of a national system of schools sketched out in his mind. For now, religion served his purpose and he would embrace it until such time as it could be consigned to the midden heap of history.
The cardinal droned on, and Napoleon’s gaze wandered round the interior of the cathedral, over the ranks of the military officers and politicians in the front rows of the seats facing the pulpit. He was well aware of the anger and resentment this treaty with the Pope had engendered in their ranks. It had been a closely calculated risk to appeal over their heads to the people of France, but it was more important to divide the royalists from the church than worry about the ideological concerns of the intellectuals and radicals of Paris society. Besides, he would need all the popular support he could muster in the months to come.
Napoleon frowned, and lowered his head as if bowing it in thoughtful reflection on the Pope’s message. In reality he sought only to hide his face from the other members of the audience since he feared that some amongst them might read his mind from his troubled expression. He was burdened with anxiety over the reaction of the tribunes’ assembly towards the peace he had brought to France.Talleyrand, Fouché, Lucien and their followers had been busy preparing the ground for a vote to make Napoleon First Consul for life. Instead the tribunes had offered to renew Napoleon’s current office for another ten years.
Was this his reward for bringing the first peace that France had known since the revolution? He fumed and clenched his fist, then thrust it inside his jacket to keep it out of sight. Did the fools really think he would quietly accept this sop when so much work still had to be done to drag France back to the summit of European power? Did they really think that there was anyone else who could have achieved as much as Napoleon had in the short time since he had risen to power? France needed him. More than she needed the ingrates of the tribunes’ assembly. When the time came for the people of France to make their feelings clear Napoleon would make sure that the spiteful and petty spirits who stood between him and the glorious realisation of France’s ambitions would be swept away with all the other dead weight that was holding the nation back.
He took a deep breath and looked up again.The cardinal had reached the end of the Pope’s message and was descending from the pulpit. He made his way, at a solemn pace, towards the altar and prepared to offer the sacrament to the consuls. Napoleon had been expecting this moment; the Catholic Church would hardly pass up the opportunity to use the ceremony to establish its pre-eminence over even those who ruled France. As the cardinal turned round, wafer in one hand and goblet in the other, Napoleon rose to his feet, bowed curtly and marched boldly down the aisle between the ranks of France’s most powerful men. He kept his chin up, and his gaze fixed on the arched exit from the cathedral. Even so, he was aware of the looks of astonishment, and amused admiration, from those on the periphery of his vision.
‘Was that wise?’Talleyrand asked, as they stood on the balcony of the Luxembourg Palace a short time later, acknowledging the cheers of the vast crowd that had
gathered to celebrate the Concordat. The First Consul and his foreign minister were basking in the adulation of the people.
‘It was necessary. It was important to show the Pope, as well as our people, that the state owes no allegiance to the Church.’
‘Yes, well, I imagine that’s exactly how His Holiness will see things the moment he receives a report from the cardinal. I just hope it doesn’t sour the Concordat so soon after it has been signed.’
‘It won’t,’ Napoleon replied confidently. ‘The Church needs the agreement as much as we do.’ He glanced at the foreign minister. ‘The real difficulty that faces us is keeping the peace with England. It is vital that you win us as much time as possible before war breaks out again.’
‘I will do what I can,’ Talleyrand responded evenly.
‘No.’ Napoleon shook his head. ‘You will do what I say. The fate of us all depends upon it.’ He turned back to the crowds and gave them a final wave before turning away and striding back through the tall glazed doors into his office, followed by Talleyrand. Fouché was sitting to one side of the desk waiting for them. Napoleon had thought it wise not to share the public acclaim with Fouché, who had become a sinister figure already, and was likely to become hated and feared in the months to come. Napoleon took his seat behind the desk and Talleyrand found a chair as far from Fouché as was politely possible.
‘Half of Paris must be out there.’ Fouché smiled. ‘It seems that the people have come to love you, First Consul.’
‘Love?’ Napoleon shrugged. ‘Perhaps that is what they feel for me. Now. But the mob is a fickle beast.We all saw that during the revolution. So I care little about their love. What concerns me is not providing the people with any reason to oppose the new order. That is our mission, gentlemen. As long as we succeed in that we can do as we will to remake France, and carry her influence into other lands.’ He paused to let his words sink in. ‘They have the peace they wanted. They have law and order. We must extend the benefits of the consulate even further. I want every man in France to have the chance to rise through his own merits rather than because he is the son of an aristocrat. I want us to provide the people of France with the means to gain an education and an opportunity for advancement. We will have a national system of education.We will also have a national system of public reward to celebrate achievement.’ His mind raced ahead. ‘A decoration for achievement in all fields, civilian as well as military.We’ll create a body of men who will be honoured by the nation, a legion of honour if you will.’
‘Legion of honour?’ Talleyrand pursed his lips. ‘A laudable notion, though I am not sure that our military recipients will be pleased to rub shoulders with scientists, artists and the like.’
‘Maybe, but they will have to get used to it. What matters is that we tie everyone into the new regime.’
‘And what of those people who would rather not be part of it?’
‘That is where our friend Fouché plays his part.’
Fouché bowed his head politely.
Napoleon continued. ‘While the government offers the carrot, Fouché will wield the stick.There will be tight censorship of the newspapers, the theatres and public meetings. No one will be permitted to spread ideas that undermine the regime. At the same time Fouché will be empowered to set up a system of military tribunals in the areas where there is any kind of unrest. As far as anyone needs to know the purpose of the tribunals is to provide summary justice to any rebels who are captured. In practice, they will provide us with a means, and a justification, for arresting any troublesome royalists and radicals.’
‘I see. And when were you planning to put all this into effect?’
‘As soon as I become First Consul for life.’
Talleyrand could not help an amused smile. ‘Do you really think the assemblies will permit you to assume such power?’
‘Not for a moment,’ Napoleon admitted.‘That is why you and the rest of my followers are going to propose an amendment to the tribunes’ motion offering me a renewal of my term of office.’ Napoleon folded his hands. ‘You will accept the motion, on condition that there is a plebiscite on my assuming the post of First Consul for life, with the right to choose my successor.’
For a moment the other men were silent, and then Fouché leaned forward with an excited glint in his eye. ‘Brilliant . . . Quite brilliant. They can hardly protest if the decision is passed over to the people. Not without making it look as if they were betraying democracy. They’ll have no choice but to vote for the amendment.’
Talleyrand nodded his appreciation. ‘They’ll be completely outflanked.’
Napoleon kept his silence as the other men reflected on his masterstroke. It was the perfect political manoeuvre and the fact that his opponents would be forced to support the plebiscite gave him a thrill of added pleasure.
‘There is one thing we must keep in mind,’ said Talleyrand. ‘The need to move swiftly. The public adulation will inevitably die away once they get used to peace. The amendment can be pushed through quickly enough, but we must insist that the popular vote takes place as soon as possible.’
‘Of course,’ Napoleon agreed. ‘There is no reason why it could not happen as early as August.’
Talleyrand considered this for a moment and nodded. ‘By August, then.’
As Napoleon had foreseen, the amendment was carried by a clear majority. When it was over his political opponents slunk out of their debating chambers seething with fury that they had been compelled to vote for it thanks to their own loudly proclaimed support for the voice of the people. Better still, the announcement of the result was scheduled for August, just as Napoleon had wanted.
In the following months he made sure that the people of Paris were provided with plenty of entertainment and military parades. He gave clear instructions that his subordinate officers were to appear in full dress, with flowing plumes fixed to their gold-braided bicorns. By contrast, he wore a plain coat, as an officer might wear on campaign, and fixed a revolutionary cockade to his hat. Newspapers throughout the country praised the improvements the First Consul was bringing to almost every sphere of French life. Behind the façade of peace and prosperity Fouché moved to silence his critics and enemies. Outspoken royalists and Jacobins were quietly arrested and taken before the military tribunals where their cases were hurriedly processed with little regard to legal niceties. Many were deported, or exiled. A handful of unrepentant prisoners were sentenced to death and taken to barracks outside Paris, shot and buried in unmarked graves.
Despite every precaution taken by Napoleon and his followers there was never any doubt that the people would endorse the hero who had swept away the corruption of the Directory and devoted his life to improving the lives of the people of France. In the middle of July long queues formed at the polls across the country as people cast their vote. While the votes were counted Napoleon remained in Paris, hard at work on the plans to regulate the price of grain so that the poorest citizens would never fear hunger again.
Or so the newspapers reported. In truth, Napoleon fretted over the size of the majority he would achieve in the popular vote. If it was not large enough, his enemies would gain heart from the sizeable minority of the people who still opposed Napoleon. Only an overwhelming majority would settle the matter beyond dispute and prove to France, and the rest of Europe, that Napoleon ruled with a moral authority that the Bourbons had never enjoyed in the centuries that they had been kings of France.
On the last day of July, after the final results had been conveyed to the capital, Napoleon attended a picnic with Josephine and her friends in the gardens of the Tuileries. She had intended to hold the party on the banks of the Seine away from the sweltering heat and bustle of the capital but Napoleon could not bear to be away from Paris when the result of the vote was known. So the party sat on spotless sheets amid the clipped precision of the flowerbeds overlooking the river. The fouled water glided by, bearing the shimmering reflection of the crowded slum houses looming over t
he far bank. A company from the Consular Guard formed a loose cordon around the guests and their presence detracted from the pastoral idyll that Josephine had intended to create.
‘Must they stand there?’ she asked quietly. ‘They’re making us look like prisoners.’
‘Hmmm?’ Napoleon glanced at her, and realised at the same time that he had been holding the same slice of cheese and ham tart for several minutes. He took a bite and answered her as soon as he had finished chewing. ‘They’re here to protect us.’
‘Protect us from whom? I thought everyone loved you.’
‘Just try to ignore them, my dearest, and then I’m sure your guests will as well.’
‘Ignore them?’ Josephine turned her head round to the nearest section, standing stiffly at attention fifty paces away. Each man wore a tall bearskin hat that only emphasised his natural height. ‘Hardly. Besides,’ she continued insistently, ‘who are they protecting us from? I’d love to know.’
‘The usual malcontents, and those hired by foreign agents to stir up trouble.’
‘Now you sound just like one of those toadying newspapers which relish attacking anyone who criticises you.’
‘It’s not that bad. People are still free to say what they like.’
‘As long as they don’t say it too loud, or to too many people.’
Napoleon sighed. ‘Who has been slinging the mud this time? Your friend Barras? Or that jumped-up perfume platform, Madame de Staël?’
Josephine was quiet for a moment before she continued. ‘Did you have to banish her from Paris?’
‘I didn’t. That was the decision of the Minister of Police.’
‘That dog Fouché.’ Josephine sneered. ‘He’s little more than your pet.’
‘He’s a lot more than that. If Fouché exiled de Staël then you can be sure he had a good reason to do so.’
‘Really? Are you sure? There have been quite a few people disappearing from Paris society in recent months, none of whom I’d describe as a dangerous enemy.’
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