‘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 the 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.’
‘They had to go. For the public good.’ Napoleon reached for some grapes and popped one into his mouth. ‘They’ll be allowed back, once they’ve seen reason and can keep their opinions to themselves. Who knows how far they would take their conspiracies if we permitted them to remain in Paris?’
‘Oh, come on. How many of them do you suppose are actually dangerous?’
‘I don’t know. But the men who tried to kill me and you, and injured Hortense, came from somewhere.’
It was a harsh reminder, and Napoleon felt guilty about his words almost as soon as he had uttered them. Josephine turned away from him indignantly, but he saw through the gesture as she quickly wiped a tear away on her sleeve.
‘I’m sorry, my love. I did not mean to upset you.’ He reached out and gently placed his hand across her shoulder. ‘Really I didn’t.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she replied, her voice catching. ‘You are probably right. You usually are.’ She turned back towards him, and forced herself to smile. Then her expression froze as her gaze swept over his shoulder. ‘Here comes your nasty little policeman.’
Napoleon swivelled round and rose to his feet as he saw Fouché striding across the gardens towards the picnic guests. As soon as he saw Napoleon he broke into a smile and quickened his pace.