Paris, January 1812
Talleyrand looked up from the document and gently stroked his chin with the tips of his fingers while he digested the information.
‘Well?’ Napoleon’s voice broke into his thoughts. The Emperor was seated on the other side of the large table in the planning room of the Tuileries palace. A built-up fire blazed in the grate, casting a warm glow about the room, but not enough warmth for Talleyrand, sitting on the far side of the table. Behind him the tall windows overlooked the courtyard. Snow had fallen and blanketed the cobbles with an even layer, broken up now by the ruts of a handful of carriages and the footsteps of sentries. An icy wind was blowing across the city, occasionally rattling the windows and moaning across the chimney, causing the fire to flare and flicker.
‘What do you think?’ Napoleon pressed.
‘This list.’ Talleyrand tapped the document lightly. ‘This list of grievences, sire. What do you hope to achieve by presenting this to the Tsar?’
‘It will serve to remind him of all the agreements he has broken. It will provide the basis for a new agenda when we meet to renew our alliance.’
Talleyrand looked up. ‘A meeting has been arranged, then?’
‘No. Not yet. It is my hope that when the Tsar reads through the list of grievences and realises that the likelihood of war is very real, he will come to his senses and agree to negotiate.’
‘On these terms?’Talleyrand nodded at the document. ‘You say here that you demand that Russia enforces the Continental Blockade to the fullest extent. Our ambassador in St Petersburg says that there is a great deal of anger over the issue. Moreover, there are many in the Tsar’s court, and also officers in his army, who are openly demanding war with France. I suspect that Alexander is living in daily fear that some coterie of malcontents is already plotting his murder and preparing the way for a more belligerent ruler. Either way, war is a distinct possibility.’
‘It is more than possible, Talleyrand. It is inevitable, unless the Tsar bows to my demands.’
‘I see. Then this document is designed to provoke him into declaring war.’
‘I suspect that he will choose war as the lesser of two evils.’
Talleyrand stared at him.‘In my experience war is always the greatest of evils.’
‘You say that because you are not a soldier. There is more to war than death.’
‘Oh, yes, so I have heard. In addition to death, there is the devastation and despoiling that follows in the wake of an army. Hunger, looting, rape, torture and massacre. Not to mention the huge cost in gold that it takes to wage war on the scale that you envisage.’
Napoleon stared back at him. ‘You speak like the consummate civilian you are. If it were left to the likes of you, then every nation would be crawling on its belly, prostrating itself to its neighbours.’
‘If international affairs were left to my kind, I suspect that there might be an end to the curse of war that has blighted humanity throughout history, sire.’
‘Then you are a fool, Talleyrand. The history of mankind is the history of warfare. Men have always fought each other. They always will. Which means that the primary quality in all men is their adeptness at war. Anything else is subordinate to that need. You speak of diplomacy as if it were an art in itself. It is not.’ Napoleon leaned forward as he continued. ‘Diplomacy can only succeed in so far as it is backed up by force. For all your fine words, do you really think that you could persuade other nations to do as we wish if they did not fear the military consequences of defying us? Your kind merely provide the illusion that the affairs of nations are governed by discussion. Such delusion merely flatters the weak and undermines the strong. Any man who cannot see through such a charade fails to grasp the fundamental reality. Power defines progress. Nothing else.’
‘Then why do you have need of men like me, sire? Why waste time with diplomacy if you have such contempt for it?’
Napoleon smiled thinly. ‘Even if we are little more than brawling barbarians wrapped in fine clothes, the idea that we might be something better than that is a comforting solace to the common man. If it serves my purpose to indulge such an idea then I will do so without hesitation.’
Talleyrand considered this for a moment and shook his head. ‘There we differ, sire. You see, I believe that we are not barbarians. That we are capable of barbaric acts is beyond question. Therefore, it behoves the best of men to persuade the rest to embrace civilised values, for the long-term good of all. That is the sacred duty of the good and the great, in my view.’
‘No doubt you feel that I am not of that class?’
‘On the contrary, sire. I have always known that you possessed one of the most brilliant minds of our age, despite the disadvantage of humble origins. I do not mean that as a slight on your character. I admire you for what you have achieved. When I first met you, before your campaign in Egypt, I counted it a blessing for France that young men of such promise were available to serve her interests and see that the ideals of the Revolution lived on. Then, when you became First Consul, you dragged the governance of France into the modern age, as well as securing her safety from foreign powers on the battlefield. Your achievements were prodigious, sire. When the Peace of Amiens began I felt sure that you were about to lead us into a new golden age. But then the war resumed, and has plagued France ever since.’
Talleyrand paused and a look of sadness crossed his features. A rare expression of feeling, Napoleon noted, as the other continued. ‘It is my fear that you have lost the sensibility of a just ruler, and that you have been seduced by the glory and power of military command. At present it seems that France is being ruled according to one principle - that of facilitating the waging of war. That, sire, is a perversion of power.’
The two men stared at each other. Napoleon was quite motionless as he considered this astonishing interpretation of his character and motives. It would be easy to dismiss Talleyrand from his presence, and yet Napoleon said nothing. There was much to despise about this aristocrat, yet he had always proved to be an effective and useful sounding board to refine Napoleon’s thinking. But there was something more. Despite all the treachery of the past, the Emperor still felt an affection of sorts for Talleyrand. They were both products of the Revolution. Talleyrand had as much of a hand in Napoleon’s rise to power as any man, and he in turn had benefited from the generosity of Napoleon, first as Consul and then as Emperor.
Talleyrand broke the tense silence. ‘Sire, do you remember Tilsit?’
‘Of course. It has been much on my mind lately.’
‘Then you will remember the high hopes we had for the future. The war with the Tsar was over. Better still, when you and he met, man to man, there was a mutual regard for each other, was there not? I recall how he looked up to you, as a man of destiny. On your part, there was a certain fondness.’
‘What of it?’ Napoleon cut in tersely. ‘What is your point?’
‘You must reach an accommodation with the Tsar. You must do everything that you can to rekindle that mutual regard, and affection. There must be peace between you. Great nations must find ways to live alongside each other, or they will surely tear each other to pieces.’
‘You speak of compromise,’ Napoleon replied with disdain. ‘Compromise is nothing but the death of a thousand cuts. It bleeds a great man of his determination, of his sense of direction, of his sense of purpose, until he is nothing but a petty schemer hanging on to power by his fingertips. When that happens he is no longer great, but a figure of ridicule, and finally pity. That much I understand, Talleyrand. As does Alexander. And only one of us can be permitted to dominate the rest of Europe.’
Talleyrand settled back in his chair and his expression resolved into its usual inscrutability. ‘Then there will be war between you and the Tsar. You have resolved to carry it through. I can see that now. So what is the point of this list of grievances? If Alexander agreed to answer them, it would change nothing. You would still be determined to wage war on him.’
&nbs
p; ‘Of course. But this way, it forces him to accept the blame for the war.’
‘He is the Tsar. What does he care about the moral burden of such a responsibility?’
‘Nothing. The list of grievances is not for his eyes alone. I intend to have it published in every newspaper across Europe. I want no one to doubt that the coming war is being instigated by the Tsar. I want all Europe to see Alexander as a relentless threat to their existence. And when they do, then all the kings and princes of Europe will unite behind me, and we shall combine our strength into a vast army that will lay waste to Russia and put an end to the threat that she poses.’
‘I see.’ Talleyrand nodded.‘I see it all.’ His chair ground faintly on the polished floorboards and he rose to his feet.‘I must take my leave of you, sire. There is nothing more I can say. There is no point in our conversing on matters of policy again, for I can see now that you will lead France to ruin and you will not heed any opinion that runs counter to your will.’ He bowed his head. ‘I bid you goodbye.’
‘You will not leave,’ Napoleon said coldly. ‘I have not dismissed you.’
‘You have dismissed reason, sire. So what is the purpose of any further dialogue between us?’
‘You will not leave until I say!’
Talleyrand gazed back and Napoleon could not discern a trace of fear in either his eyes or his voice as he replied, ‘As you command, sire.’
He remained standing and Napoleon lowered his hands below the edge of the table so that Talleyrand would not see them clenching and unclenching, as if they were already clamped around the man’s throat.
‘Damn you,’ Napoleon growled. ‘Get out. Go. Out of my sight!’
‘Yes, sire.’ Talleyrand bowed his head, backed away and then turned to make his way out of the room, walking in the studied manner that he had developed to help conceal his deformed foot. The footman outside the Emperor’s study had a practised ear, and opened the door at the sound of approaching footsteps. Talleyrand passed through and turned out of sight without once looking back.
‘Send for my chief clerk!’ Napoleon shouted.
As he waited, Napoleon turned to the fire and gazed into the flames. He knew that he had lost Talleyrand’s ear for ever. There was nothing between them now but open enmity. The man would have to be placed under close watch in future, and if there was any proof of treachery, dealt with.
The sound of footsteps drew Napoleon’s attention to the approaching clerk and he turned away from the fire and indicated the document on the table.
‘Take that. Have it copied and sent to every newspaper in France. Have more copies sent to every court in Europe. Every newspaper. Every division headquarters in the army. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’ The clerk swallowed nervously. ‘I shall have to call in every available man on my staff, sire.’
‘Then do it. At once. Now take it and go.’
Once he was alone, Napoleon stood up and crossed to the window. He clasped his hands behind his back as he reflected on his plans for the coming war with Russia. Outside the snow was falling again, thick swirling flakes that soon blotted out his view of Paris, and then of the soldiers on guard down in the courtyard.
Chapter 24
Throughout the winter long columns of wagons had been carrying supplies to forward depots in eastern Europe. With the first buds of spring battalion after battalion marched across Europe to join the army building up in the lands of the Duchy of Warsaw and Pomerania, a Swedish territory which Napoleon had occupied in preparation for any war with Russia. In addition to the long columns of infantry there were brigades of cavalry and artillery teams dragging their lumbering burdens along the primitive roads and the tracks that were thick with mud from the thaw and rains of the season.
Napoleon had not waited for the Tsar’s response to his list of grievances before giving the order to mobilise his forces. Despite the protests of his marshals in Spain, some of the best divisions were withdrawn from the Peninsula. The soldiers were glad to leave Spain. Any other posting had to be preferred to that land of heat, hunger and thirst, where every rock could conceal a peasant with a musket ready to blow the brains out of any hapless straggler or forager who wandered even a short distance from his comrades. Although their destination was a secret, by the time the men had marched through Prussia it was clear where their next campaign would take them and they viewed the coming test of arms with eager excitement.
Even though large numbers of French troops were concentrating around Warsaw they soon discovered that they would not be the only nation represented in the host gathering to humiliate the Russians. The Emperor had compelled his Austrian allies to provide forty thousand men. Another twenty thousand came from Prussia, viewed with great suspicion by the French troops. Then there were contingents from the German principalities as well as Swiss, Dutch, Belgian and Polish troops, and men sent from Napoleon’s domains in Italy.
It was April before the response from Moscow reached the Tuileries. Ambassador Kurakin presented himself at the palace and requested to deliver the message to the French Emperor in person. Napoleon was closeted with his senior military planners in the room where the final confrontation with Talleyrand had taken place. Kurakin was made to stand in the doorway while a footman carried the letter to Napoleon. The Emperor broke the seal, which bore the impression of an eagle, and quickly read through the contents of the Tsar’s letter before rapping his knuckles on the table to silence his officers.
‘Gentlemen, your attention.’ He raised the letter and began to summarise the contents. ‘The Tsar says he has considered and rejected my complaints. He tells me that while he wishes for peace between France and Russia, that peace is conditional upon certain demands. One, that France is to withdraw all of its forces from Prussia. Two, that France will compensate the relations of the Tsar whose lands were lost when the Confederation of the Rhine was created. Three, that our forces will leave Polish lands in order to create a non-aligned territory between French territory and that of the Tsar. If I comply with his wishes then the Tsar says that he might . . . might . . . consider reviewing the high tariffs imposed on French imports. If I do not comply then he regrets to inform me that he may be obliged to enforce his demands.’ He lowered the letter and looked towards Kurakin. ‘I take it this letter is meant to be an ultimatum?’
‘I was merely instructed to deliver it to you, sire.’
‘Nevertheless, you are aware of its contents, and no doubt you have been informed of your master’s intentions in a separate message.’
Kurakin did not reply, but stood and returned Napoleon’s gaze with a blank expression.
‘Your silence betrays you, Kurakin. The Tsar well knows that his demands are unacceptable. Indeed, they are an affront to the aspirations of every Pole, as well as an insult to me. Does he think that the Emperor of France will meekly obey his whims? He knows that I cannot possibly agree to this nonsense and retain one shred of my honour and integrity. I will not abandon my Polish allies, and I will not withdraw my troops from Prussia. Does he think that I would trust Frederick William to continue to pay his indemnity to France without French troops there to remind him of his obligations? Well? Speak up, Kurakin.’
The Russian cleared his throat. ‘Sire, I am merely an ambassador. I only speak for the Tsar when expressly instructed to do so. In this instance I was merely ordered to deliver the letter.’
‘Nevertheless, you fully appreciate the import of its contents?’
‘I believe the letter speaks for itself.’
‘Weasel words, Kurakin. Be sure that this letter will be printed and circulated to every court in Europe so that they may see for themselves how the Tsar covets Europe.’ Napoleon paused. ‘Does your master wish to know my response?’
Kurakin looked surprised for a moment before he recovered his wits and replied, ‘Surely your imperial majesty needs time to consider the letter and formulate his response?’
‘No. I already know my response,’ Napoleon sai
d menacingly. ‘You can tell the Tsar that he will regret his insults, when I next see him in Russia. Now leave us.’
Kurakin bowed and left the room. Once the door was closed behind him Napoleon turned to his planning staff and cleared his throat.
‘We know precisely where we stand now, gentlemen. The Tsar has decided on war. Now we have to determine the best way to deliver one to him.’The officers chuckled.‘Back to work, gentlemen. There is much to do. Berthier!’
‘Yes, sire?’
‘You have the list of formation commanders? Then send word to them. I want to see them all, here, before they join their commands for the campaign. Given the scale of the task we are undertaking it would be well to ensure that they understand the part they must play.’
That evening Napoleon returned to his private quarters with his mind full of the myriad details of planning so vast a military enterprise. Together with Berthier, he had calculated the requirements of an army of over half a million men: the number he deemed necessary to ensure a decisive result. In addition to the men, there would be over eighty thousand cavalry mounts, nearly fifteen hundred cannon and eight thousand wagons to carry spare ammunition, powder, and sacks of biscuit and rice, all drawn by another two hundred thousand mules and oxen. Some fresh meat would be provided by the herds of cattle that were to be driven along in the wake of the army. Once they were eaten the army would start working its way through the oxen as the supplies in the wagons were exhausted. The need to scrape together every available soldier for the campaign meant that there would have to be another wave of conscripts taken on to defend France’s borders and garrison the reserve areas of the invading army.
Napoleon had dismissed his valet and was slipping into his sleeping gown when there was a gentle knock at the door that linked his quarters with those of the Empress.
‘Come in,’ he called.
The handle turned and the door swung in to reveal Marie-Louise in her nightgown. Her long light brown hair hung down across her shoulders and she smiled at him.
The Fields of Death Page 27