‘You do not know war as I do,’ Napoleon countered. ‘I have been a soldier for most of my life. I have been at war for the best part of twelve years. I have campaigned across the nations of Europe to the deserts of Arabia. I have fought in scores of battles and have stood my ground amidst storms of musket and cannon fire. I have been wounded and I have seen friends killed. I have seen the dead and the dying,Talleyrand. Vast fields of them. I have also seen men at their best. I have seen them master their fears and terrors and attack against overwhelming odds. I have seen them march, barefoot and hungry, for days at a time, and fight a battle at the end of it, and win. I have seen all this.’ He smiled. ‘You see, Talleyrand, I understand war well enough. But you? What do you know of it? An aristocrat by birth. A creature of the salons of Paris and the palaces of princes and kings. What do you know of danger? At the height of the revolution you were not even here in Paris. So before you presume to lecture me on the evils of war, please do me the courtesy of restricting your comments to the field of your own expertise.You deal with the diplomacy. You achieve what you can for France with your silver tongue and your intrigues. But remember this.You are a servant of France. A servant of the Emperor.You are a means to the end, and I, I alone, decide the nature of that end. Understand?’
‘Yes, sire,’ Talleyrand replied softly, through clenched teeth. ‘I understand perfectly.’
Napoleon stared intently at his foreign minister for a moment and then suddenly smiled and waved his hands dismissively. ‘Come now! That is that. Let us not talk of philosophies any longer, but of practicalities. At the present I no more desire war than you do. But one must guard against eventualities.’
‘Of course, sire.’
‘Then we must induce our friends, the Austrians, to believe that there is no advantage to be gained from waging war against us.We have driven them from Italy’s domains. Now is the time to let them know that France is the new and permanent master of the kingdoms of Italy.’
‘Sire?’
‘I want you to make arrangements for another coronation.’ Napoleon tilted his head back. ‘No later than the end of spring, I shall be crowned King of Italy. And we shall extend all the benefits of our civil code and governance to the natives of that land. In short, we shall make Frenchmen of them as soon as possible, so that they will never again have to endure being ruled by Austria.’
‘King of Italy?’ Talleyrand mused. ‘That is your will, sire?’
‘It is. See to it that preparations are begun at once.’
‘Yes, sire.’
‘You may go now,Talleyrand. I have finished my business in Paris for a few days. If you need me, I shall be at Malmaison with the Empress and my family.’
‘Yes, sire.’ Talleyrand paused. ‘And the other matter, sire?’
‘Other matter?’
‘The question of opening negotiations with Britain?’
‘There will be no negotiations. Britain wants war, and war she shall have.’
Talleyrand nodded sadly and left the room, limping on his deformed leg. Once the door had closed behind the foreign minister, Napoleon’s expression hardened. Much as he valued his diplomatic skills, he did not trust Talleyrand. The smooth charm and faintly mocking tone of his voice left Napoleon feeling bitter and angry, a sentiment the Emperor was obliged to conceal as much as possible in order to retain the foreign minister’s services. All the same, he decided that he would have the man watched more closely by Fouché’s spies. While Napoleon had little doubt that Talleyrand was a patriot, that sense of patriotism was tied to a very particular notion of France’s best interests, one that did not conform to Napoleon’s plans for the empire.
One thing was certain, however. Britain must be destroyed. Thanks to the improvident twenty miles of sea that separated France from the cliffs of Dover, there was only one way to crush the enemy: the British navy must be swept from the Channel so that Napoleon could lead the Grand Army in an invasion of Britain and dictate peace terms in London itself.
Chapter 3
‘Well, why shouldn’t I have ten new pairs of shoes?’ Josephine frowned as she poured herself a fresh cup of coffee and then hesitated over a plate of pastries until her fingers alighted on a slender length of biscuit drizzled with honey. Holding it delicately between forefinger and thumb she raised it to her lips and took a bite, chewing for a moment before she continued. ‘After all, I am the Empress, and it would not reflect well on you if I were seen in public in some threadbare sackcloth and a battered pair of clogs. Besides, you can afford it.’
They were alone in the private sitting room overlooking the gardens at the rear of the château. Outside, dusk was settling over the countryside and it was chilly enough to warrant the fire that glowed in the grate, occasionally emitting a sudden crack or hiss from the latest log to be tossed on to the embers. Napoleon was flicking through a tray of correspondence that was resting on his lap. He tapped another letter.
‘And here’s another. From a supplier of curtains in Lyons . . . Five bales of silk.’ Napoleon’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Five bales of silk! Good God, do you know what he has charged you for that?’
Josephine shrugged.
Napoleon sighed as he nodded down at the letters piled on the tray. ‘Most of these are from suppliers to the imperial household. Aside from the silk, they mention shoes, hats, dresses, horses, furniture, wine, cakes . . . In every case they respectfully state that the account has yet to be settled.’
‘They had better be respectful, the little ingrates.’ Josephine sniffed. ‘After I have gone to the effort of appointing them to supply the imperial household with their wares.You’d think they would be sensible of the honour I do them.’
They still have to be paid,’ Napoleon admonished her. ‘They are not charities.And you must not continue like this. I could equip an infantry brigade on what you spend on petty indulgences each month. It has got to stop, before this profligacy damages our reputation.’
‘How can it? That little weevil Fouché controls all the news that gets into the papers. He’s hardly going to permit the publication of any gossip that undermines his master.’
‘Gossip is spread by tongues just as easily as it is through the newspapers, ’ Napoleon countered wearily. ‘And I will not have people grumbling about you not paying your debts.’
‘Well, it’s your own fault,’ Josephine said petulantly. ‘If you would give me enough to make ends meet you would not have to deal with those petty misers and their petulant complaints.’
‘A good wife knows how to live within her budget.’
‘What’s that?’ Josephine sneered. ‘Another pithy bit of Corsican wisdom from your mother?’
‘I warned you before.You will respect my mother. Especially while she is under my roof.’