The ceremony over, Barras escorted Napoleon out of the audience chamber and down the long hall, flanked by footmen and soldiers who stamped to attention as they passed by. Outside the palace a huge crowd had filled the street and they roared with excitement as they caught sight of Napoleon.
Waving to the crowd as he stood beside Napoleon, Barras leaned closer and muttered into his ear.
‘I rather fear that the mob would make you their king. It is as well that you are a soldier and not a politician.’
‘Perhaps,’ Napoleon replied quietly. ‘Just as it is as well, for the sake of our armies, that you are a politician and not a soldier.’
Barras turned to look at him. ‘Then we understand one another, Bonaparte. As long as I permit you to operate in your sphere, you will do me the courtesy of not interfering in mine. Agreed?’
‘Very well, Director.’
‘Good.’ Barras smiled and gestured towards the cheering crowd.‘Then enjoy your moment of adulation, Bonaparte. While it lasts.’
That evening, Napoleon sat in his study with Lucien as they shared a bottle of wine. Napoleon had been pondering the day’s events and his aside with Barras and had come to a decision.
‘Lucien, I can’t bear to remain here in Paris for much longer. I cannot play at politics. Not yet. Not until the patience of the people has been tested beyond endurance by Barras and his cronies. Only then will they be ready for something different. In the meantime I have a reputation to build, and the best place to do that is on the battlefield.’
Lucien frowned. ‘I thought you said that the invasion of England was impossible.’
‘It is. That’s why I have to persuade the Directors to back an invasion of Egypt, and make me the commander of the expeditionary force.’
‘Egypt?’ Lucien shook his head. ‘Are you mad? If you go to Egypt you’ll disappear from public sight. How can you build any kind of popular support from Egypt?’
‘Lucien, believe me, the way things are going in Paris, I’d better stay away from here. I do not want to be tainted by any association with Barras and his regime. When the people start getting disillusioned they will look for someone outside Paris, someone young enough to represent a new order. I’ll fit their needs as well as any other. So Egypt it is.’
Lucien considered for a moment, and then he nodded.‘Maybe you’re right, brother. It would be for the best. And I can imagine that Barras and the other Directors will be only too pleased to see the back of you.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Napoleon smiled. ‘You can count on it.’
At the start of the new year Napoleon wrote to Josephine to ask her to return to Paris. While he waited for her, he embarked on a campaign to win the Directors over to his scheme for the invasion of Egypt. A quick tour of the army camps and ports of the Channel coast armed him with the ammunition to fill his reports on the unfeasibility of any invasion of Britain.At the same time he was busy planning for the expedition to Egypt, bombarding the Directors with analyses of the strategic advantages of a campaign to cut across England’s trade with the east, with a view to eventually wresting India from the grasp of the East India Company.
Meanwhile, Talleyrand began his own manoeuvres, pointing out to Barras the diplomatic possibilities of moving an army into Egypt. The vast Ottoman empire was crumbling and the Sultan was near to losing any authority over the governors of his provinces. If the Sultan could be won over to the side of France then the entire Levant could be denied to English ships.
The Directory asked Napoleon to advise them on the scale of the forces needed. He replied early in March. Twenty-five thousand infantry, fifteen hundred gunners and three thousand cavalry, most of whom could be mounted once the army arrived in Egypt. A strong naval escort would be required to protect the convoy across the Mediterranean, and with good fortune they might be able to seize Malta on the way.
A few days after he submitted his report, Napoleon was called to the Luxembourg Palace to meet the Directors. He was there nearly all day and only returned home as dusk closed over the capital, bringing with it thick clouds and a heavy downpour of icy rain. Josephine was waiting for him and helped to take off his sodden cape when he entered the house. He strode through to the sitting room where a fire glowed in the grate, casting an orange hue over the room and causing Napoleon’s blurry shadow to waver behind him, huge and brooding.
‘They have appointed me to command the army.’
Josephine stood beside him, slipping her arm through his. ‘It’s what you hoped for.’
‘Yes. I thought so.’ Napoleon turned towards her, and cupped her cheek in his hand as he kissed her on the lips. ‘Until now.’
‘How long will you be away?’
Napoleon was silent for a moment before he replied. ‘At least a year. I’ve offered Eugène an appointment on my staff.’
‘I know. He told me.’
‘I think it will be the making of him. His father would have been proud to see his son in uniform. You should be proud of him too.’
‘Oh, I am. But it’s hard not to think of him as my little boy.’ A fond smile flickered across her lips. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘Of course. But this campaign will be different. If we fail . . . if we are defeated, then there will be no pity for the survivors. Our enemies will not wage war in the manner we are used to. I will take as few women with us as possible. Certainly, I want to spare you the rigours of the campaign. It will be a comfort to know you are safe in Paris.’
‘As you wish,’ she replied flatly.
‘I’ll write as often as I can. I hope this time you will be as diligent in your replies.’
‘I will. I swear it.’ Josephine put her arms round his shoulders and drew him into her embrace. ‘When do you leave?’
‘In May. I wish there was more time.’ He kissed her again. ‘I wish that it was safe for you to come with me.’
She leaned towards his ear and kissed his neck, then whispered, ‘I suppose I’d only be a distraction. If I were to cause your concentration to wander on the eve of battle, I don’t know if I could bear to have that weighing on my conscience.’
‘Then we’d better get the distractions out of the way now.’ Napoleon kissed the smooth curve of her neck and pressed a hand on her breast. ‘Let’s go to bed.’
Chapter 29
Egypt, July 1798
The three-decker, L’Orient, loomed above the other ships of the fleet that lay at anchor off the coast of Egypt. Napoleon checked his pocket watch by the light of the brilliant moon, and swore. It was already three o’clock in the morning and barely five thousand of his men had been landed on the shore close to the village of Marabout. Alexandria lay less than ten miles to the east and Napoleon wanted to open his attack on the port at first light. Even though the order to begin landing had been given the previous afternoon, the men were thoroughly seasick and the rough waves and pounding surf had made loading the smaller craft a hazardous affair. Several men had been drowned and those that had made it to the shore were disorientated, drenched and already desperately thirsty.Their officers were scouring the shore for their men and trying to form them up ready to march on Alexandria. General Reynier had reported that only three hundred men from his division were assembled and waiting for orders.Worse news had followed. None of the horses or guns had been landed yet, and General Desaix and his soldiers had been landed on the wrong beach.
Napoleon saw an officer striding towards him and recognised Berthier in the pale light of the moon.
‘Sir, what units we have are formed up and ready to advance. What are your orders?’
‘We’ll attack,’ Napoleon replied at once. ‘After I’ve addressed them. Get a platform set up, and light some torches. I want our men to see me, not just some vague shadow. Arrange it at once.’