Napoleon's Police

by Michele McGrath

  “I can hardly leave my sister alone here in this crowd,” I told him. “The Emperor will understand; he has sisters himself. Don’t worry, I will take the responsibility.”

  Between us we guided Sophie through the press of people until we came to the relative quiet of the inn corridor.

  “Tidy yourself,” I hissed to her, “but hurry. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

  “How do you expect me to do that in thirty seconds with no mirror? I look a fright in this old pelisse and no jewellery. He’ll think I’m a peasant. I’ll never forgive you for this,” she hissed back. Between us we pushed in her hairpins and shook the dust out of her skirts. She looked almost presentable again, or at least I thought so. No doubt a woman thinks differently about such things.

  “Clean the smut off your nose.” I gave her my kerchief and she did so. “You’ll do,” I said when she had finished.

  “Thank you, kind brother,” she replied with an urchin’s grin.

  “Behave yourself in there.”

  We were shown into the back of a small room, which was also crowded with people. The messenger tapped on shoulders and made a passage through them for us, until we stood directly behind the great man himself.

  “Duval is here, Sire,” the messenger said.

  Napoleon turned and gestured to an officer, who was standing near, to take his place at the window. Then he looked at me. I bowed and Sophie dropped into a curtsey.

  “What are you doing here, Duval?” He took Sophie’s hand and raised her up. “And who is this pretty lady?”

  “I live here now, Sire. I’ve left Paris and the Police.” I smiled at Sophie who was looking awed and obviously savouring the moment to tell to her grandchildren. “May I have the honour to present to you my sister, Marie-Sophie-Matilde, Madame Giroux.”

  “Madame, you say? A pity. Why did you never tell me about her before?”

  “Sire, you never asked.”

  Napoleon laughed, a youthful happy sound I had not heard for years, ever since the great disaster in Russia. “Touché. You must come and visit us in the Tuileries, my dear, when we have settled there again.”

  “It would be my great pleasure, Sire.”

  “Now, Duval.” He was abrupt as usual, dismissing women from his mind as soon as he returned to business. “I have need of your services.”

  “Yes, Sire?”

  “You have come to me most opportunely. I want you to deliver a message to a man we both know well.”

  “But, Sire. Surely any man here would be delighted to be your messenger. You don’t need me. I am an outsider now.”

  “Some might say the same of me, but we will prove them wrong together, will we not?” He laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. “I will explain later. Come to me again at first light and be ready for a journey of some duration.”

  What could I reply to that? You don’t refuse an emperor when he asks you to do something. I had no intention of refusing anyway. I was aware of the envious glances around me and felt a little pride in being singled out from the others. Eugénie, though, was going to murder me.

  “What on earth can he want you for?” Sophie asked when we had pushed through the crowd and were on our way out of the town.

  “No idea. I’ve done errands for him before, so he supposes I will do so again.”

  “And will you?” she asked. Sophie has sense and things are not quite the same as they were.

  “I’ll have to. If I don’t and he comes to power again, he can banish me from France or worse.”

  “He wouldn’t!”

  “He would. He’s done it to more important people than I’ll ever be. Remember the Duc d’Enghien?” Sophie shuddered. Louis Antoine de Bourbon, Duc d’Enghien, a close relative of the King, had been kidnapped in Baden. He was brought across the border to Vincennes and shot on trumped up charges at Napoleon’s orders.

  “Come home with me,” I begged Sophie. “I need you to help me convince Eugénie I have to follow orders. Then I’ll take you home.”

  Sophie nodded. “I think you’ll need my help.”

  Eugénie certainly wasn’t pleased. “Why didn’t you stop him?” she asked Sophie, reproachfully.

  “The Emperor doesn’t take any notice of women when he has something on his mind,” I hurried to defend her. After all, this mess wasn’t all Sophie’s fault. The only thing she had wanted to do was to see the great man at a distance. Neither of us expected to be summoned into his presence or the consequences that followed.

  I got out the carriage and drove Sophie home, still in a state of excitement and a growing apprehension for my safety. Emile had been waiting up and greeted us with relief.

  “Where have you been?” he asked. “You’ve been out for hours. I was worried about you.”

  “Sophie will tell you all about it. I need to go home and prepare. The Emperor wants me to go on a journey for him.”

  “I’d heard he was back. What’s happening? Where are you going and why?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve to return to him at first light and I’ll find out then. I’ll come and see you before I go, because I must leave Eugénie and the children in your care while I’m away.”

  “Of course. Don’t worry about that. Go and get what sleep you can.”

  I did not expect Eugénie to be asleep when I returned and she wasn’t. My wife is a wonderful woman and the life we had lived in Paris had made her an old campaigner. She realised that, whatever she said, I would go. So, while I was taking Sophie home, she packed for me. My saddlebags rested in the hallway, with my swordstick and pistols lying beside them. Even though she had prepared, Eugénie made one last attempt to turn me from my course.

  “Why didn’t you refuse him?” she asked, putting a glass of brandy into my hand and blowing up the fire. I sighed, wanting to go to sleep but knowing I couldn’t leave her without a proper explanation.

  “When have I ever been able to refuse that man?”

  “Not even now, when he’s no longer the Emperor? When he’s been deposed and exiled?”

  “You know him. He pops up again like a cork in a vat of water. Think, Eugénie. If, by some miracle, he does regain his power, what would happen to us? He has a long memory and he holds grudges. Nowhere in France would be safe for us any more, not even here.”

  “I suppose you’re right. He’ll win; he always does,” she agreed, reluctantly. “But what did he mean by ‘of some duration’?”

  “Days, weeks, months. It could mean anything, knowing him.”

  “Do you want us to come with you?”

  “You can’t. I don’t know where he’s sending me and I’ll almost certainly have to ride hard. Besides, with luck I can do his errand quickly and come back to you. No point in disrupting everything before we know.”

  “I’ve helped you before,” Eugénie said plaintively and I put my arm around her, holding her close.

  “I know, love, but this isn’t another puzzle for us to solve together. It’s a journey, an even more uncomfortable one than the last. We couldn’t inflict such a thing on Aimée, so soon and I’ll be quicker without you. I’d rather you and the children stay here, where you’re safe for now. I’ll send for you, if I have to stay in Paris for any length of time. I’ll ask him to release me when the right moment comes. I don’t want to live in the city again. Do you?”

  “No.” She was silent for a few moments and then asked, “Do you think he’ll regain his throne?”

  “There could be a battle before he even gets to Paris and he could be killed or exiled again straight away. Who knows? He’s a genius but he’s ageing and the Russian fiasco changed him. He’s never been as sure of himself since then.”

  “Your father won’t like you going away again.”

  “He won’t know I’m gone, if nobody tells him. Georges can manage the business with help from Emile. Tell my father I’ve gone to Vizille to talk to a new customer, that’s plausible enough. He’s sinking fast and getting more and more muddled every
day. Between you all, you should be able to keep the truth from him.”

  “What if he dies before you get back?”

  I shrugged. “He dies.”

  “Suppose he asks for you?”

  “Say I was there, but have gone again. He won’t remember and he’s always put the needs of the business before his family. Tell him I’m doing the same.”

  We were silent, looking into the flames and my eyes started closing. I fell asleep, with Eugénie’s arms around me.

  I woke in the darkness, to someone shaking me.

  “Get up,” Eugénie said as she lit a candle. “It is almost time for you to leave.” She had built up the fire and the light was enough to see that her face looked tired and strained. “I have brought water for you to wash.” She pointed to the table where she had set a steaming pan and a bowl. I made a hasty toilette while she fetched me breakfast, only some bread and cheese and watered wine. Indeed I did not really want to eat anything at all, I felt too uneasy and my insides were churning. Eugénie bustled away again and I thought she was on some errand but, when she returned, she chivvied the children before her into the room. They were still in their nightclothes and were rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

  “Eugénie! Whatever did you wake them up for?” I cried, catching the baby, Françoise, before she fell over.

  “They need to say goodbye to you,” she said tonelessly, but I caught the underlying fear in her voice.

  “Where are you going, Papa?” Jean asked.

  “I’m going on the Emperor’s business.”

  “But isn’t the Emperor on that island?” Aimée protested, looking puzzled.

  “I will explain it all to you later,” Eugénie said. “Kiss Papa goodbye now. He has to leave.”

  I kissed the children and Eugénie helped me into my old riding coat. She had saddled my horse for me already and tied on the saddlebags. I put my guns into their holsters.

  “Take care,” she said, her lips were trembling.

  “You also.” I tipped up her chin so I could look into her eyes. “I am coming home, my darling. This is not our last goodbye, you must believe that. Do you?”

  She hesitated and then nodded, more because I wanted her to than because she believed it herself. I did not know then how very nearly she was right. Another kiss, a wave to the children huddled round the door, and I cantered down the avenue towards Grenoble.

  Chapter 4

  First light saw me in the Emperor’s presence once again. I was half asleep from the uneasy rest I had managed to snatch. Napoleon was already dressed and shaved, ready to begin his own journey. He certainly looked better than I did. He grinned when he looked at me, taking in my tired eyes and the stubble on my cheeks. I had no time to shave in all the rush. He made no comment, however. I bowed to him and he picked up a letter from the table behind him and handed it to me. The wafer was sealed with the familiar green wax and bearing his crest of the bumblebee.

  “Take this to the Duc d’Otrante,” he ordered and I realised why he had been so glad to see me in the crowd and why he wanted me to carry this letter. Fouché was his Minister of Police, a former Jacobin and regicide, now a duke of Napoleon’s making. Fouché retreated from Paris when the Bourbons arrived and waited to see what would happen. He was still waiting from all accounts. We worked together for years and I knew things about him that he kept carefully hidden from others.

  “Do you know where he is, Sire?”

  “At Point Carré, or so my sources tell me. Seek him there first. If he isn’t there, his people will have news of him.”

  “I will go there, Sire, but his house is sure to be watched and I may fail to get the letter through.”

  “If you have to, open the letter and memorise its contents. Then destroy it, so it is not found on you. You may appear merely as one gentleman visiting another. If I hear nothing from either of you in ten days, I will send other messengers. When you see Fouché, say that I need him to return and take over the Ministry of Police again. I will reward him well. If he proves recalcitrant, remind him of the things he has done that the Bourbons do not yet know about. You have an agile tongue. Use it. He is necessary to me.”

  I bowed. “Yes, Sire, with luck I will bring him. Certainly I will do my best.”

  Napoleon wished me well and I left him.

  Although it was always advisable to carry out the Emperor’s orders as quickly as possible, I could not leave Grenoble immediately. I needed to speak to Emile and Georges.

  Emile was awake, as I expected him to be. I was surprised Sophie was not still with him, but he had sent her up to bed so we would be able to talk in peace.

  “How is she?” I asked with a grin, knowing my sister when she is excited.

  “Well enough. She kept describing what happened over and over again. Now tell me what you want me to do.”

  “Don’t bother about Georges now,” he said when I finished my tale. “I’ll make sure he understands what to do and the others as well. How long do you think you’ll be away?”

  “I can’t tell you. Might be a couple of weeks or a couple of months. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “It may not be soon enough for you to see your father again, you know that?”

  I nodded. “Don’t tell him where I am going.”

  “I won’t.”

  He got up, took a paper from his writing desk and brought it over to me.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “A warrant enabling me to act on your behalf, in the interests of the business and your wife and children, while you’re absent. I drew it up while I waited for you. It makes everything legal, in case anyone questions me or, God forbid, you never come back.”

  “I’ll certainly be back.”

  He gripped my shoulder. “I know that and I’ve every faith in you but these are dangerous times. I have to think of all possibilities. Lawyers do. You’ll be in the thick of whatever happens, unless you can escape. Better to be prepared for the worst. I’ll be delighted to rip up this warrant when you are safely back with us again.”

  Emile went to the door and called two of his servants, who acted as witnesses to my signature.

  “I’ll look after Eugénie and the children, never fear. Go and do what you have to do and come back quickly, otherwise...”

  “Otherwise?”

  “I’ll never hear the last of it from Sophie.”

  Several days later, I found Fouché at Point Carré, without experiencing any more trouble than a lame horse and wet roads. The journey went much better than it had done in the autumn. On horseback, I was able to make a faster speed than the lumbering diligence. I came to the park gates in the afternoon, and asked the guard if his master was at home. Apparently he was. I waited and walked my horse while one of the men went to enquire. I gave them my name and the fact I was on official business, whose I did not say. I saw no sign of anyone else other than Fouché’s men. At least they were wearing his livery. If his house had been watched by the Bourbons’ spies, they had been withdrawn, possibly as news of the Emperor’s progress spread. The answer to my request came back quickly enough and I was admitted to the house. One of the grooms took my horse away to the stables and a servant led me into a comfortable room lined with books.

  As usual, Fouché treated me with courtesy, asking me to be seated and giving me a glass of fine wine. Then he broke the seal on his letter. He frowned as he read and I took the opportunity to study him. He had aged since the last time I saw him. His dark hair was laced more strongly with silver and his face had become thinner. Wearing black, as he always did, he gave me the impression of a crow, about to peck at something on the ground. Then he looked up and his hooded eyes, boring into mine, reinforced the fancy. Fouché has never been physically intimidating. He is a slight man, with the appearance of the teacher of mathematics he was, before the Revolution made him both a murderer and a regicide. It is the power of his eyes and the sharpness of his mind that intimidates. I felt the impact even in his qu
iet library.

  “Where is he now?” he asked me when he finished reading.

  “I met him in Grenoble on the tenth. He was leaving before me and heading for his uncle at Lyon.”

  “Ah yes. Our old friend Fesch, still Cardinal and Archbishop, in spite of his nephew’s downfall.” I nodded. “Then the Emperor will be in Paris soon, unless the King’s forces destroy him.”

  “Do you think they will?”

  Fouché smiled his cold smile. “It’s unlikely that the Emperor would have embarked on this campaign without good reason or the support of at least part of the army. Given sufficient soldiers, the Emperor is a genius, as we both know.”

  “What will you do, Monsigneur?” I asked. I had composed several speeches on the journey, ready to persuade him to follow his orders. None of them were needed. His response surprised me.

  “Why, travel to Paris, of course, in time to meet him at the Tuileries.” I must have looked shocked at his quick decision, so he continued, “Ask yourself this, mon ami, who is the more likely to win in this encounter, Louis XVIII or Napoleon?”

  No one could accuse the fat Bourbon king of being a soldier and he did not pretend to be. Yet it was a desperate gamble for all that. Everything would depend on what the other countries of Europe decided to do. Most of them had been over-run by the Emperor at one time or another. I could not believe that they would allow Napoleon take the crown of France again without a battle. Then Fouché said something which shocked me even more.

  “You will accompany me to Paris.”

  “Monseigneur?” I tried to keep the horror out of my voice, but one look at his face told me I had not succeeded. “I hoped to return home once I delivered the Emperor’s message to you.” I managed to blurt out.

  He looked at me bleakly. “Put your hopes aside. I need you and others like you until we have seen the result of this little adventure. Then you can go home and so can I.” The last words were almost a sigh and made me wonder about him. I had never known Fouché except when he was deep in intrigue. I could not imagine him being content in a quiet country life, but perhaps he was.