Early in April news arrived in London that Joseph Bonaparte had been made King of Naples.Then, in June, more worrying news reached Britain: Louis Bonaparte was on the throne of Holland. Meanwhile the French Emperor had been hard at work on the Rhine, consolidating the hundreds of tiny German states into a more manageable number, under the protection of France. Against this background the ambitions of Charles Fox found less and less support in Parliament.
Some weeks after Arthur had returned to London, he was joined by Kitty. At first she stayed with the Sparrows, until Arthur found a house to rent in Harley Street. Once all the furnishings, dinner services, bedding and plethora of other household necessaries had been purchased, Arthur and Kitty moved in.The first days were as awkward as the honeymoon had been and Arthur did his best to play the part of a loving and dutiful husband at home, and in public. For her part Kitty seemed keen to please him, and to be considered a worthy companion, and wife.
As they grew more used to the intimate touch and feel of each other, it became easier to make love. Even so, Arthur felt an aching despair at the loss of the years he might have had if only Kitty had been allowed to marry him before he had gone to India.Then he would have had the Kitty he had loved, and carried in his heart through the years they had been apart. As it was, he felt she was almost a different person, and one he would never have picked as a wife had he encountered her more recently. But he had kept his word and married Kitty, Arthur reflected fatalistically, and he had satisfied his personal sense of honour in doing so. Therefore, he must commit himself to the marriage as best as he could.
Then one day, early in September, as he returned home from a day of wearisome debate in Parliament, Kitty came hurrying downstairs and held her arms out to embrace him.
‘Good God, Kitty!’ Arthur laughed. ‘What was that for?’
She looked up at him and smiled nervously. ‘Are you happy with me?’
‘Of course I am!’ Arthur leaned his head down and kissed her lightly on the lips. ‘How could I fail to be?’
Kitty stared at him searchingly.‘I know you think I am weak-willed, Arthur, but I had to hear you say that. Just to know.’
‘Well, now you have heard it, so tell me, my love, what vexes your mind so obviously?’
Kitty swallowed, and licked her lips before she replied. ‘Arthur, dear, I am expecting.’
Arthur froze for a moment before the full import of the news hit him. He kissed Kitty again, with warm excitement this time.‘Expecting, by God! That’s wonderful news, my love. Quite wonderful.’
‘Do you mean it?’
‘Of course I do!’ Arthur stepped back and took her hands in his and stared into her wide eyes. ‘It is the best news I have had in a very long time.We must celebrate.’
‘The doctor said I am to rest and avoid excitement.’
‘Stuff and nonsense!’ Arthur replied cheerily. ‘This is something worthy of celebration. Oh, I forgot! When is the child due?’
‘Late January or early February next year.’
‘Wonderful,’Arthur muttered as his mind began to race.‘We must tell our families and friends.’
‘I’d really rather we didn’t, in case . . .’ Kitty’s gaze fell away from his face as she stared at the ground.‘In case we lose it for any reason. I could not bear facing people if I lost our child before it was born.’
‘Hush, my dear. That is not going to happen. I will ensure that you are well looked after, by the best doctors that can be found in London. I swear it.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied softly.
Arthur smiled at her, and then leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the forehead. ‘Dearest Kitty, it is I who should be thanking you.’
The prospect of becoming a father relieved Arthur of some of his gloom over the news from Europe that France had abolished the Holy Roman Empire and made itself ruler of a confederation of states in the Rhine area. The mood lasted until one morning, a week later, when there was a sharp rap on the front door. A footman showed his brother William into Arthur’s study. Looking up,Arthur was surprised to see his brother’s strained expression.
‘William? What is it?’
‘It’s Charles Fox,’William said baldly. ‘He died late last night.’
‘Fox is dead?’ Arthur stroked his chin. ‘Dead, do you say? Then there will be no treaty with France. Not now. No other Englishman would dare to treat with Bonaparte.’
‘Well yes, quite,’William responded quietly.‘And you know what that means?’
Arthur nodded soberly. ‘No peace. Just war to the bitter end. And only one of our nations will survive.’
Chapter 20
Napoleon
Paris, August 1806
The air was heavy and still and already the first distant rumbles of thunder could be heard amid the dark clouds edging across the city skyline. Napoleon dabbed at the perspiration along his hairline as he stared out of the open window. Even though he was naked he was hot and his skin was clammy. There was a sudden brief puff of breeze and the lace curtains ballooned around him before settling and sliding over his skin, making him shudder at the light sensation. Behind him, on the bed, Josephine stirred.
‘Sounds as if a storm’s coming.’
‘Yes,’ he replied softly, without turning round. Beyond the end of the Tuileries gardens the buildings were fading into the gloom and a dull band of shadow was creeping across the lawns towards Napoleon.There was another breath of wind, colder this time, and the first chilly pinpricks of rain on his face and chest. Still he did not move, and just watched as the leafy boughs on the trees lining the avenues began to shimmer and sway.Then there was a brilliant flash of sheet lightning that bathed the gardens in a ghostly white glare and almost at once the crack of thunder rolled across the city.The concussion rattled the windows of the imperial bedchamber. It reminded him of the sensation of the battlefield as the artillery of the Grand Army reverberated through the air and the earth itself.
‘Napoleon!’ Josephine sat up in alarm, staring across the room to where her husband stood gazing up at the sky as the lace curtains billowed round him like a shroud. His hands were clutching the window frame and he did not move, or respond to her. Throwing back the bedsheet, Josephine snatched up her silk gown and slipped into it as she hurried across the room and took his arm.
‘Napoleon? My love.’
The rain was sweeping in through the window now and he blinked as if recovering from a trance, and looked at his wife.‘What? What is it?’
‘Close the window. Close it and come back to bed. Before you catch a chill.’
Josephine gently drew him away from the window and closed it behind them, securing the latch firmly. Outside the rain pattered off the glass, streaking the view of the gardens as they were brilliantly illuminated by lightning again, before the thunder crashed out over Paris. Napoleon walked slowly back towards the bed and climbed in under the sheet, while Josephine lay down on the other side and then edged across so that she could cradle his head against her breast.
‘What’s worrying you so?’ she asked softly.
Napoleon was silent for a moment, his eyes wide open and staring at the gilded mouldings on the ceiling. His brow furrowed slightly. ‘There is going to be another war. It cannot be avoided.’
‘We are already at war. Unless the British have changed their minds.’ He smiled her light-hearted tone. ‘We are always at war with Britain. I’m talking about Prussia. I thought we’d humbled them for some years yet. Seems that I hadn’t counted on that vixen wife of Frederick William’s. He is a weak fool and Talleyrand can play him like a fiddle. But that Queen of his, Louise, is made of tougher material. She has been agitating against us from the moment the peace treaty was signed.’
Josephine smiled, and wound one of his dark curls around her little finger. ‘You should never underestimate women, my love.’
Napoleon’s gaze flickered away from the ceiling and he tilted his head round so that he could look into her eyes. ‘I know
. I made that mistake once before.’
Josephine felt an old anxiety well up in the pit of her stomach as she recalled the affairs she had conducted while Napoleon had been away campaigning in Italy and then Egypt in the early years of their marriage. She had nearly lost him when Napoleon discovered her infidelity.There was a quick flicker of anger as she recalled that he had been unfaithful himself.Then the thought was banished and she turned her mind back to Prussia as Napoleon continued.
‘I had thought the Prussians lacked the nerve for war.There we were, on the eve of Austerlitz, and the Russians and Austrians thought I was as good as beaten. It was only then that the Prussians decided to throw in their lot with my enemies and demand that I let them broker a peace. And after Austerlitz?’ He sniffed with contempt. ‘Frederick William sends me his congratulations on a magnificent victory.The man has the heart of a mouse. He could not sign a treaty with us fast enough.At one stroke of the pen I had humiliated Prussia and left Britain to continue the fight alone . . . And now my spies tell me that Prussia is planning to make war on France. Why? Why do they want war?’
Josephine tugged his hair gently. ‘Perhaps because you humiliated them too much.You might have heeded Talleyrand’s advice and treated them more leniently. I’m no diplomat, but I would have thought that another nation is more likely to remain an ally if it is treated well, rather than having its pride ground underfoot.’
Napoleon rolled over and propped himself up on an elbow so that he could look down at his wife. ‘I treated them as leniently as they deserved under the circumstances.’
Josephine raised her eyebrows. ‘You might think so, but from their point of view the treaty might not look lenient. I think that’s your trouble, my love.You cannot see the world through other people’s eyes. You live only for your ambitions, and are inclined to treat others as a means to that end. Talleyrand is always telling me that there can never be a lasting peace while nations are unwilling or unable to see things from each other’s perspective.’
‘Talleyrand.What does he know?’
‘More than enough to make a fine statesman. Otherwise you would not depend upon him so much.’
‘I do not depend on him at all. I do not depend on anyone,’ Napoleon added coldly, and then his mouth flickered into a smile. ‘Except you, my darling. And as you pointed out, you are no diplomat. You could not understand such affairs. Prussia, and the other powers of Europe, resent the dominance of France.They resent me.They will not be won round by reason.They must be controlled with an iron fist, and once they know the limits of my tolerance and abide by them, then we shall have peace.’
‘Perhaps this peace of yours will, in their eyes, look like subjugation.’
‘It is possible. But that is not important. As long as they do as I wish they can have their peace.’
Josephine smiled. ‘That is precisely the kind of imposition that they resent so much. Why, take that business with Hanover. That’s typical of the way you treat other nations and why we are surrounded by wary enemies rather than allies. First of all you offer Hanover to the Prussians to bribe them to stay out of the war with Russia and Austria. Then, when the British approach you about holding peace negotiations, you go behind Frederick William’s back and offer Hanover to them as a bargaining counter.’
‘It was a rational enough move,’ Napoleon protested.
‘Really? And did you not consider the possibility that the British would inform Frederick William of your duplicity? How indignant, how angry do you think such a ploy might make the Prussians? Or did you think they might see it as a rational enough move as well?’ Josephine shook her head. ‘Sometimes you shock me, Napoleon. You make your grand plans with so little regard for the opinion of others. And now, as a consequence, you face dragging France into another war.’
‘I do not drag France. She goes willingly wherever I lead her.’
‘I think you will find that many of the people are considerably less willing than they were.’
‘That is not true.’
‘Because you say so? On what evidence?’
‘I have the evidence of my own eyes, Josephine. Wherever I go crowds cheer me.’
‘Of course they do. They could hardly do otherwise with Fouché’s men scouring the streets looking for any signs of disloyalty as an excuse for arresting your political enemies.’
‘Perhaps there is some truth in that. But my soldiers love me as a father.’
‘An army is apt to idolise any general who is in the habit of leading them to victory. But the soldiers are only a small portion of any nation.’
Napoleon laughed. ‘They are the most important portion of a nation, my dear Josephine. Without the army I am nothing.’
‘Then you had better look after your soldiers more carefully. You cannot continue to call young men to arms indefinitely to replace those you lose in war. I read the newspapers too, and I know that there are thousands who go into hiding to avoid military service. Hardly proof of their devotion to the army of France and her Emperor, I’d say. The people do not want any more war, my love. They want genuine peace and a chance to prosper, that’s all.’ She paused and considered a new thought, before continuing, ‘Why must there be war? Why not give Talleyrand a chance to negotiate a peace with Prussia? Let them keep Hanover and let us have peace. If you showed willing, I am sure there could be peace with Prussia, and all the other European powers, even perhaps a lasting peace with Britain.’
‘A lasting peace with Britain?’ Napoleon shook his head at the fanciful suggestion.‘If that was possible, we would have had it years ago.’
‘Well at least there could be peace in Europe. The other nations might be prepared to live in harmony with us, as long as you don’t continue to treat Europe as if it was your personal property.’
‘What do you mean?’
Josephine was surprised. ‘Why, my love, you have been distributing kingdoms to your family and your marshals as if they were sweets.’
‘They have earned their rewards,’ Napoleon answered firmly. ‘Unlike those who merely inherit their titles.’
Josephine stared at him for a moment. ‘Is that what it is all about? A crusade on behalf of the worthy?’
‘Don’t be so foolish.’
‘I don’t think that I am being foolish,’ Josephine reflected. ‘It seems to me that you have resented aristocratic and royal blood as long as I have known you. And you seem to go out of your way to raise men up from the lowest stations in life to the highest posts of state. Napoleon,’ she reached for his hand and squeezed it affectionately,‘you are the man I love. You have achieved more in your life than any ten kings or emperors. Every man in Europe considers you its finest living general. Most of the people love you. All that remains is to establish your place in history. Now is the time to think carefully about the future.Will you be remembered as the man who loved war and glory above all else? Or as the man who led France to greatness and lasting peace? You can choose that, and history will remember you as one of the finest rulers that ever lived.’
There was a pleading tone in her voice, but Napoleon brushed her concerns aside. ‘A man is only a ruler if he is free to exert his will over others. I would have peace, Josephine, I really would. But only on my terms.’
She shook her head sadly. ‘Then there will be war. Always war, until you conquer all, or you are destroyed, and France falls with you.’
‘If that is what God wills.’
‘God? Since when did you acknowledge His authority?’
‘Since it became good politics to.’
‘And if God wants peace?’
‘Then He will bless my cause and abandon all those who oppose me.’
Another sheet of lightning illuminated the Paris skies and burst into the bedchamber, painting their exposed flesh deathly white for an instant.There was a pause of a few seconds before the thunder cracked the heavens and then rumbled away. Napoleon spoke again. ‘I think the storm is passing.’
Josephine shook
her head. ‘The worst is yet to come.’
That night, the air in the capital was hot and humid and those who met in the Emperor’s private office wore only shirts, save Talleyrand, who refused to make any concession to climate and still wore his coat and cravat. Napoleon sat at the head of the table, with Berthier and Fouché to his left, and Talleyrand to his right. The meeting was lit by the glow of candelabras suspended from the ceiling and the heat of the little flames only added to the stifling atmosphere. Napoleon finished reading the report that his foreign minister had prepared for him, and slapped it down on the table.
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