Fire and Sword

by Simon Scarrow

  As his gaze moved to the raft Napoleon was pleased with the work carried out by the Grand Army’s engineers. It was less than two days since Prince Lobanoff had ridden into the French camp to offer an armistice on behalf of his master, Tsar Alexander. Since then, the raft, twenty paces on each side, had been constructed on the banks of the river. A generous apartment had been built on the middle and comfortably furnished with a table and chairs, and extensively decorated with tapestries bearing the eagles of France and Russia.There were two doors so that the Emperor and the Tsar could enter the apartment from their side of the river. Once completed, the raft had been carefully floated out into the middle of the Niemen and anchored securely in place from a stout post at each corner.

  As the French barge angled across the current towards it, Napoleon could see the fine craftsmanship that had gone into the hurried construction and made a mental note to have Berthier reward the engineers who had made such a fine thing so quickly. If the meeting with the Tsar went well, then perhaps there would be peace and the men who had been campaigning for the last ten months could at last rest after all their exertions.

  Despite the battles of Jena and Auerstadt and the occupation of Berlin, the Prussians had not surrendered, and it was only after the bloodbath at Eylau and their subsequent defeat at Friedland that the enemy’s will to continue the fight had finally broken. The men of the Grand Army sensed it at once and had been in high spirits ever since at the prospect of peace, on French terms. All the bitterness and demoralisation that had plagued Napoleon’s soldiers through the long, freezing winter months had gone and even the slaughter at Eylau had faded from the thoughts of most. Though his men once again cheered him heartily as he passed through their ranks, Napoleon knew that their morale, what he called their ‘sacred fire’, was a fickle thing, and if Russia refused to come to terms and the war continued, then they would soon slip into the familiar morose despair of men who had been marching and fighting for too long.

  The truth was that Napoleon needed peace as much as his enemies did. He had been away from Paris for too long, and from Fouché’s reports it was clear that his opponents in the French capital were growing ever more bold and outspoken. It was vital that he returned at the earliest opportunity to re-exert his control over the politicians and people of Paris. In addition, he had not seen Josephine for several months, and her most recent letters were filled with a bitter petulance about his prolonged absence. Napoleon had no doubt that word of his affair with Countess Walewska had reached the Empress’s ears and that she had been hurt by his infidelity.

  The barge approached the mooring post on the edge of the raft and as the oarsmen, men from the engineers attached to the Imperial Guard, raised their oars, the boat glided gently in at an angle. The man in the prow grunted as he grasped the wooden side of the raft and strained his powerful arms as he braced himself and brought the craft to a standstill. With a quick flick of a rope he fastened the bows to the mooring post and then leaped nimbly on to the raft, where he took the rope thrown to him from the stern and pulled the barge alongside. Napoleon rose unsteadily from his seat and one of the men carefully supported his arm as he stepped on to the deck of the raft. He straightened up and smoothed down his coat and breeches. He was wearing the uniform of a Colonel of the Imperial Guard, and had deliberately left his decorations and sash back at his quarters.The impression he wished to make on the Tsar was that of a commander of men, not some pampered peacock at a royal court.

  ‘Stay here,’ he ordered quietly, and then crossed to the door facing the French bank of the Niemen. He pushed the handle down and entered the apartment, closing the door behind him.There he paused a moment, admiring the fine construction and decoration that his men had crafted. Napoleon nodded. The Tsar could not help but be impressed by the raft, not to mention the feat of putting it together so quickly, and positioning it so precisely in the middle of the river.Which was good, Napoleon mused. If the preliminary talks went well, he had resolved to put the Grand Army on display to impress the Tsar with its efficiency and élan. Napoleon crossed to the other door, opened it and emerged on to the far side of the raft.

  The Tsar’s barge had put out from the other bank and the men at the oars were rowing lustily to speed their passenger to the encounter with Napoleon. They were making a meal of it as they splashed furiously through the smooth ripples of the river. Napoleon focused his attention on the figure sitting at the rear of the barge. Alexander was wearing a green jacket adorned with heavy gold epaulettes, and diamond-encrusted stars were pinned to his breast. A broad red sash hung from his shoulder and a white plume rose high from his cocked hat. He sat stiff and erect as the boat neared the raft and seemed to look straight past Napoleon as the latter waited, alone.

  The Russian barge bumped into the side of the raft, causing those aboard to lurch forward, and the Tsar hurriedly snatched a hand to his hat to keep it on his head. Once the boat was alongside, the Tsar stood and held out his arms and two of his men lifted him bodily from the boat on to the raft, where he paused and looked his adversary over without expression. Alexander was a tall, slender man with a rounded face and soft feminine features, and as he removed his hat and bowed he revealed a high forehead and receding hair.

  Napoleon strode the few paces between them and grasped the Tsar’s hand, smiling warmly. ‘Your majesty, it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I had begun to fear that the tragic war that existed between our nations would deprive me of the pleasure of your company for ever. But here we are!’ Napoleon gestured to the finely appointed raft.

  The Tsar glanced round and nodded approvingly. Speaking in accentless French, he said, ‘A fine piece of work, your majesty.’

  Napoleon noticed the slight hesitancy before the Tsar addressed him by title, and fought back his anger over the man’s reluctance to accord him the honour he was due. For an instant he was reminded of the ridicule he had endured at school in Brienne, when he had been mocked by the sons of aristocrats for his provincial background. However, he took a sharp breath and calmed himself before he replied, the welcoming smile still fixed on his face.

  ‘It is the work of my engineers. They are capable of turning their hand to almost any task.’

  ‘So I can see.’

  ‘Please come this way.’ Napoleon gestured towards the door, then led the Tsar inside the apartment and indicated the seats on either side of the table.

  Alexander laid his hat on the table and then eased himself cautiously on to the chair, as if expecting some kind of French treachery. Napoleon could not help smiling at his suspicion. It would only help to keep the Tsar preoccupied while he conversed, and again hand the initiative to Napoleon. Flicking back his coat-tails, Napoleon sat down, and the two rulers looked at each other unflinchingly for a moment in silence. Napoleon waited for the other man to begin, and in due course the Tsar cleared his throat.

  ‘I have come here to discuss peace.’

  ‘It is what we both desire,’ Napoleon responded. ‘I can assure you that whatever my enemies say, I am a man of peace.War profits no man and is the regrettable outcome of poor communications. Why, here we sit, as easily as two old friends. Peace is a natural state of affairs between such powers as ours, would you not agree?’

  ‘Yes, that is so.’ Alexander nodded. ‘Though there are other nations in Europe who would seem to hold on to warfare as a drowning man might a lifeline.’

  ‘Ah, you speak of Britain.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘As pernicious a race of shopkeepers as ever existed,’ Napoleon continued. ‘They fight to make the rest of the world customers for their goods and they will not rest until their industries dominate all of us, no matter how many men must be killed in order for them to succeed.’

  ‘That is so.’The Tsar nodded.‘I have only to consider the efforts that they have taken to curtail Russian interests in the Mediterranean and in India. I can assure you that I hate the British as much as you do yourself.’

  Napoleon
leaned a little closer as he replied, ‘If that is the case, then peace is already made between France and Russia.’

  The Tsar could not hide the look of relief that flitted across his face. ‘Peace.Thank God!’Then his expression hardened and he continued in a more even tone, ‘On what conditions?’

  ‘No more than you can afford and no more than you would wish. I propose an alliance between France and Russia. After all, we are not by nature enemies. Our borders do not encroach on each other and we have more to gain as allies than as enemies. Why, the natural enemy of us both can only be one nation.’

  ‘Britain?’

  ‘Of course. Britain is determined to frustrate the rightful ambitions of both our peoples. Either one of us would be sorely tested to defeat Britain on our own, but if we were united then neither Britain, nor any other nation of the world, could stand in our way, my dear Alexander. We have but to will it to make it happen.’

  ‘Yes,’ the Tsar responded softly, stroking his jaw. Then he glanced towards Napoleon. ‘We are forgetting one thing.’

  ‘That is?’

  ‘Prussia. What is to be her part in these peace negotiations? Will Prussia be admitted to the alliance you propose?’

  ‘No,’ Napoleon replied firmly. ‘Our two nations would not have been at war were it not for the calculated mischief of the Prussian court. It was they, and particularly Queen Louise, who brought about the conflict in the first place. Prussia must pay the price for the French and Russian lives lost in this unnecessary war.’

  Alexander frowned. ‘But Prussia is my ally.’

  ‘An underserving ally if ever there was one. Where is the Prussian King at this moment?’

  Alexander gestured over his shoulder. ‘The King and his Queen are located in a mill a short distance north of here. Together with what remains of his army. I had hoped that he might be able to join us here.’

  ‘He is a spent force.’ Napoleon waved his hand dismissively. ‘All that remains is to decide on the magnitude of his punishment for making war against France. Rest assured, my dear Alexander, that Russia will gain as much from Prussia’s misfortune as France. Now then, I think we have a common understanding. I am sure that our diplomats can be left to discuss the details. So let us leave Prussia aside for a moment and talk of other things.There is much we can learn from each other.’

  As soon as he returned to imperial headquarters Napoleon summoned Berthier and began to dictate a rapid series of orders.

  ‘First,’ he began as he strode up and down the map room outside his office, ‘send for Talleyrand. I want him here as soon as possible to negotiate a peace agreement with the Tsar. The basis of the peace will be an alliance with Russia, and a declaration of war between Russia and Britain. Second, the town of Tilsit is to be made a neutral area. All hostilities between French and Russian forces, together with their Prussian allies, are expressly forbidden within the town limits of Tilsit. I wish to make the town freely available to the Tsar and his court, together with their senior officers. All French soldiers must accord the Russians full honours and respect. Any man who fails to obey this order will be severely disciplined. Got that?’

  Berthier glanced up from his notebook. ‘Yes, sire.’

  ‘Then, once you have issued the orders, I want you back here. Summon the other marshals and have them join us.’ Napoleon’s eyes sparkled.‘We are going to offer the Tsar such displays of military power that he will never consider going to war against France again!’

  The following day was hot, and as midday drew close the last of the preparations to receive the Tsar was hurriedly completed. Napoleon, his marshals and the staff officers stood waiting on the bank of the Niemen. A special landing stage had been constructed and decorated with the eagle emblems of Russia. From the end of the landing stage the route into Tilsit was bordered by two lines of guardsmen.They had been hard at work since before dawn cleaning and polishing their kit and now stood to attention in full dress uniform. Every button gleamed, and pipe clay had been applied to the cross straps until they attained a dazzling whiteness. Each line stood three men deep and stretched down the side of the road, thence along the sides of the streets leading up to the fine townhouse acting as imperial headquarters, and from there to the mansion Napoleon had chosen for Alexander’s accommodation. The mansion was the most gracious house in Tilsit and Napoleon would have claimed it for himself in normal circumstances. But now everything depended on impressing the Tsar with the good intentions of France and her Emperor. On either side of the guardsmen, batteries of the Imperial Guard artillery stretched out along the banks, their crews standing silently by.

  Napoleon paced up and down at the end of the jetty, hands clasped behind his back, as he waited for Alexander and his entourage to arrive.

  Ney puffed his cheeks out and crossed his arms.‘Hope those bastards don’t keep us waiting much longer. It’s too hot out here. I could do with a drink.’

  Napoleon rounded on him and stabbed out a finger.‘That’s enough of that! I need the Tsar for an ally and I will not risk any man here offending him, or his entourage, or even that milksop the King of Prussia. No one is to cause our guests the slightest offence. Is that clear, Marshal Ney?’

  ‘Yes, sire.’ Ney stiffened his spine. ‘Clear as day.’

  ‘Good. Don’t forget what I have said.’ Napoleon swept his arm round at the rest of his officers. ‘That goes for everyone.’

  Berthier nodded towards the far bank. ‘Sire, they’re coming.’

  Turning round, Napoleon could see that several barges had emerged round a bend in the river and were making for the landing stage. The leading barge was gilded about the prow, and the standard of imperial Russia rippled languidly from the bows as the craft struck out across the Niemen towards the French bank.

  ‘Telescope.’ Napoleon held out his hand and a staff officer hurried forward and handed his master a spyglass. Napoleon snapped it out and raised it to his eye, tracking across the gleaming surface of the river until he found the barges. He saw Alexander in the stern of the leading boat, sitting beside another man in uniform, equally glittering and encrusted with decorations.That had to be the King of Prussia, Napoleon realised with a faint smile. No wonder he looked so dour. He would be more depressed still once he discovered the terms Napoleon was going to demand from the peace agreement with his country. If he was abandoned by Russia the Prussian King would have little choice but to accept the demands that Napoleon intended to set before him. As the boat approached the west bank of the Niemen Napoleon lowered the telescope and handed it back to the officer.

  ‘Right, everyone in position. Stand to attention and make this look as formal a welcoming ceremony as possible.’

  The band of the Imperial Guard struck up with the Russian national anthem as the Tsar’s barge drew up alongside the jetty.The oarsmen had learned their lesson from the previous day and were far more cautious in their approach, and Napoleon could almost sense their relief as the boat gently eased itself into position and was held in place by one man at the bows and another in the stern.The two rulers rose up from their cushioned bench and were helped ashore. The King of Prussia landed first and there was no movement from the French ranks until the Tsar stood upon the jetty.

  Then Napoleon nodded to Berthier, who waved a hand towards the nearest gun crew.

  ‘The artillery will commence the salute!’ a sergeant roared out. The cannon had been loaded with blank charges and as the first linstock was applied there was a brief fizz and then the gun belched flame and smoke as it boomed across the river. At regular intervals the other guns followed, one by one, a hundred of them, giving a formal salute to the Tsar of Russia.

  Napoleon stepped forward to greet Alexander. Clasping his arms, he planted a kiss on each cheek.

  ‘I bid you welcome, your majesty.’

  Alexander smiled. ‘I offer you my thanks, imperial majesty. And may I introduce Frederick William, King of Prussia?’

  The Prussian ruler smiled awkwardly as h
e stepped forward. Napoleon took his hand and shook it briskly. ‘And I welcome you too, Frederick William. I trust that you will enter into peace negotiations with France as readily as your ally.’

  ‘Yes.Yes, I will,’ Frederick William stammered.‘Prussia wants peace as much as anyone.’

  ‘I am gladdened to hear it,’ Napoleon replied without a smile.‘Now, if you would both do me the honour of accompanying me I will show you to your accommodation in Tilsit.’

  The three rulers led the procession up the designated route.The tall figures of the men from the Imperial Guard stood like statues as they stared straight ahead, their gaze hardly flickering as Napoleon and the others passed by. A respectful distance behind them came the marshals and staff officers of the Grand Army, interspersed with Russian and Prussian officers as they disembarked from the boats queuing up to unload their passengers on to the jetty. All the while the guns of the Grand Battery continued their salute, the crash of their shots echoing across the river.