Fire and Sword

by Simon Scarrow

  Napoleon bowed graciously before her. ‘You must be the radiant Marie-Louise.Your beauty does not do justice to the reports I have had of you, madam.’

  Marie-Louise stared at him with narrowed eyes as she wondered if she was being mocked, but Napoleon kept his expression neutral, even as Charles looked at him in surprise. Napoleon bent low, took her hand and kissed it. On cue, there was a ripple of applause from his officers and Marie-Louise beamed delightedly.

  ‘It seems we are amongst friends, Charles, my dear.’

  ‘Friends? Oh, good.’ He smiled and beamed happily.‘I have so missed having friends.’

  ‘If you would come with me.’ Napoleon gestured up the steps.‘I have arranged a modest reception for you.’

  Inside the château’s ballroom a table laden with delicacies and decanters of the finest wines stood at one end. A large crowd of dignitaries and officers in their finest uniforms parted to permit the Emperor and his guests to enter the centre of the room. The small retinue of the former King and Queen of Spain followed and assumed a haughty air in front of the curious gaze of their hosts. Napoleon clapped his hands together to attract attention.When every eye was on him, he quietly cleared his throat and addressed the crowd.

  ‘All France welcomes Charles and Marie-Louise of the house of Bourbon. It is our fervent wish that we may be able to help Spain overcome the division and dissent that has plagued her in recent months. But for now, we will celebrate your arrival and help you to forget the rigours of the journey that brought you to Bayonne.’

  From a gallery, hidden by a great tapestry, a small orchestra struck up the Spanish national anthem and Napoleon began to introduce his senior officers and officials to Charles and his wife.

  Later, when night had fallen outside and all the guests had long since departed from the ballroom, Napoleon met Charles and Fouché in a small private sitting room with doors and windows that overlooked the geometrically perfect flowerbeds of the château’s garden. His sister Caroline, together with the wives of some of the generals, had led Marie-Louise off to a picturesque orangery in the grounds to be entertained by an opera singer from Paris, while Napoleon dealt with Charles alone.

  ‘I must say, it is most good of you to step in to sort this ghastly business out,’ Charles began affably. ‘You’re not quite the tyrant that some of your enemies make you out to be.’

  ‘Really? That is good to know.’ Napoleon smiled warmly. ‘It is a shame that there are those who mistake my motives. But who can blame them, with all the lies that are spread by British agents?’

  Charles frowned. ‘I have to confess that my own son was easily misled by such devils. Truly, the British will stop at nothing to undermine every royal house in Europe.’

  ‘Sadly, you are right,’ Napoleon said solemnly. ‘And the Spanish Bourbons are no exception.Why, when I spoke to your son, he was little more than a mouthpiece for Britain, and damned your alliance with France as the work of a fool and a madman.’

  Charles’s eyes narrowed. ‘He said that? Of me?’

  Napoleon nodded with a pained expression. ‘I wish it was not true, but . . .’ He gestured helplessly, and watched as his words worked their way on the weak-minded Spanish ruler.

  Charles’s lips trembled with rage as his jaws worked furiously. ‘That damned boy! Always was ambitious, and treacherous as a snake. To turn on his own father. And his King!’ Charles fixed his watery eyes on Napoleon. ‘He must not be allowed to be King. I will not permit it.’

  ‘Ah, you see, there’s the problem,’ Napoleon responded with feigned embarrassment.

  Charles frowned. ‘Problem? What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I don’t mean to sound defeatist. As far as France is concerned you are the King of Spain.Those others who forced you to abdicate are clearly traitors.The problem is that they have managed to persuade most of your people to believe their lies. I fear it may already be too late to undo such villainy.’

  ‘Too late?’ Charles looked pained. ‘But I must have my crown back. For the good of my people.’

  ‘Naturally. But the reality of the moment is that it would not be good for your people if you were to return to the throne. Later, perhaps, when Spain has had the opportunity to forget these troubled times.’

  Charles leaned forward anxiously. ‘But who will rule Spain? We cannot let Ferdinand remain on the throne.’

  ‘Indeed not,’ Napoleon agreed firmly. ‘He must be deposed at once. After that, I suggest that Marshal Murat is permitted to oversee the government for a limited period before we prepare the way for your majesty to return.That would seem like the best way to proceed.’

  ‘Yes . . . yes, I suppose so,’ Charles muttered as he gently rubbed his forehead, and nudged his wig slightly off centre so that his head looked unbalanced. ‘You are right.’

  ‘I am glad that you think so, your majesty. In which case I have taken the liberty of having two despatches drawn up for you to consider.’ Napoleon nodded at Fouché and the latter lifted a folder from his lap and passed it to the Emperor. Flipping it open, Napoleon took out two sheets of neatly written prose and glanced through the first.

  ‘This is a statement condemning the actions of Ferdinand, and stating quite clearly that he and his followers threatened you with violence in order to force you to abdicate. It says that you condemn him utterly for this course of action and wish to expose before the whole of Europe that Ferdinand is a usurper. Here you are, your majesty.You can read it for yourself.’

  Napoleon handed the statement to Charles and sat back as the old man held it at arm’s length. Squinting, Charles read through the document carefully.At length he set it down.‘It is a fair account of what took place. But what is the purpose of this document?’

  ‘Merely to let the other royal courts of Europe know the truth of what happened so that they are not fooled into recognising your son’s claim to the throne. It will have a limited circulation, your majesty. No point in risking the shame of your family in public.’

  ‘Quite so!’ Charles nodded emphatically. ‘And I must thank you for being so sensitive.’

  ‘Not at all. It is the very least I could do.’ Napoleon smiled warmly and then tapped the bottom of the document. ‘All it needs is your signature, your majesty. Fouché, a pen, if you please.’

  ‘Yes, sire.’ Fouché lifted a small case from beneath his chair and opened it out to reveal a writing pad with an inkwell and several pens in holders. He quickly laid the set down on a small table at Charles’s side and dipped a pen in the inkwell before offering it to the Spaniard. Charles hesitated, and for an instant Napoleon was not sure that he would sign. Then, with a bold flourish, Charles leaned over the letter and printed his signature. As soon as it was done, Fouché whisked the letter away.

  ‘There,’ Napoleon said encouragingly. ‘It’s done. Now, if we can move on to the second document. It is little more than a minor formality.’

  He set it down on the table next to the writing set and sat patiently as Charles examined it painstakingly, at length looking up with a hurt and confused expression. ‘This confirms that I have abdicated.’

  ‘Yes, your majesty. As we agreed, in the interests of Spain it would be best to delay your return to the throne for a while, at least until the situation is resolved.’

  ‘Really?’ Charles frowned.

  Fouché dipped the pen into the ink again and held it out to Charles. ‘Sire?’

  ‘I’m not sure that I should abdicate. I don’t think it is the right thing to do.’

  ‘It is the only thing you can do for the moment,’ Napoleon said soothingly. ‘And it’s only a temporary arrangement. Please sign. Just here.’ He tapped the blank space awaiting a signature. ‘At least you will have given the crown up without duress. It will help to smooth Murat’s way to re-establishing order.’

  Once again Charles took the pen. He signed quickly and eased himself away from the table.

  ‘It is done.’

  ‘Thank you, sire.’ Napol
eon nodded. ‘You won’t live to regret this, I assure you.’ He handed the signed documents to Fouché, who placed them back in his case and began to fasten the straps. ‘Now, I think it is time that we re-joined the womenfolk and stopped speaking of politics.’ He rose from his chair and took Charles’s arm, helping him up and guiding him towards the door. ‘I will join you shortly.’

  ‘Good, good,’ Charles mumbled. ‘About time we sat down and talked, over a glass of brandy.’

  ‘Yes, of course, sire.’ Napoleon eased the old man out of the room and closed the door behind him. At once he turned to Fouché. ‘Keep that document safe.’

  ‘Yes, sire. I will.’

  ‘Now then,’ Napoleon smiled. ‘We need to get to work on Ferdinand.’

  The clock on the mantelpiece chimed a quarter past two. All was quiet within the house and the only noise from outside was the occasional crunch of gravel as a sentry passed by. Napoleon sat alone in the room with Ferdinand.There was a small table between them with an inkwell and a pen. The Spanish Prince had been summoned at midnight and Napoleon had waited impatiently for him to arrive, and then handed him the document Charles had signed attacking his actions. When Ferdinand had finished reading he lowered the statement with a quick raise of his eyebrows.

  ‘The old man does not hold any of his anger back.’

  ‘No,’ Napoleon responded coldly.‘Nor would I if I had received such treatment from you. This document is going to be copied to every capital in Europe. Soon all will know how you came to steal his crown.’

  ‘It would have been mine in the long run,’ Ferdinand countered. ‘Besides, if I had waited much longer the people would have risen up and taken the crown from him, and then we would have had a full-blown revolution on our hands.And we know where that leads. I would spare my people such terror, and tyranny.’

  Napoleon ignored the gibe. ‘It is true that you might have acted for the good of the people. It is equally true that you might have acted out of naked ambition and a hunger for power.That is for people to decide for themselves. Either way, you cannot command the respect of other nations while your assumption of the crown is shrouded in confusion and suspicion over its legality.’

  Ferdinand shrugged helplessly. ‘So what am I to do?’

  ‘You must return the crown to your father and apologise, in writing, for what you have done.’

  ‘No.That is not possible.’

  Napoleon smiled. ‘You have little choice, your highness. If you are permitted to seize power in the manner that you have, you will have set a precedent. What if every royal prince thought to emulate you? No ruler would be able to sleep. Nations would be paralysed by fear, Spain most of all. I tell you, Ferdinand, you would forever be jumping at shadows, until the day when the conspirators came for you. And on that day there will be no Marshal Murat and his soldiers to save you from the wrath of the mob.’

  Ferdinand pondered for a moment and then opened his hands. ‘So what am I to do?’

  ‘You must return the crown to the King and then wait your proper time to inherit the throne. It will come soon enough. Charles is old and weak. When he is no more, then you will have your crown, legally and without recrimination from any royal court in Europe.’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘There is one other thing,’ Napoleon said evenly.‘You must apologise for your treatment of the King.’

  ‘Apologise?’ Ferdinand’s eyes widened. ‘Never.’

  ‘You must. Your recent actions will not be forgotten. Would you want people to still regard you with suspicion and misgiving when the time comes for you to assume the crown? There must be some act of contrition first.You must issue a public apology and return the crown.’

  ‘What if I refuse to do either?’

  Napoleon stared at him a moment before continuing in a low, menacing voice. ‘You cannot refuse. I will not permit it. I could easily place you under arrest and keep you here until you renounce the throne. I might even try you for treason, on your father’s behalf, and have you shot.’

  Ferdinand’s jaw dropped in astonishment for a moment before he recovered and shook his head. ‘You cannot threaten me.’

  ‘No? Why not? You threatened your father into signing a document. Why should I not do the same to you?’

  ‘But you would not cause harm to me.You would not dare.’

  ‘What makes you so certain?’ Napoleon asked curiously. ‘I have sent far better men than you to their deaths and slept well for it.’

  There was a long pause. At last, Napoleon produced a statement Fouché had copied earlier in a fair hand. ‘Sign this.’

  ‘What is it?’ Ferdinand asked suspiciously.

  ‘Your announcement that you are returning the crown to your father with immediate effect, and your apology for having wrongfully usurped the throne.’

  Ferdinand laughed. ‘You are not serious! I cannot sign that. I will not.’

  ‘You must.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Sign it!’ Napoleon snapped.‘Sign it now, or suffer the consequences.’

  He flipped the lid of the inkwell open, dipped the pen in and thrust it towards Ferdinand. ‘Sign it! Or I swear you will suffer.’

  Ferdinand sat quite still for a moment, his face fixed in an agonised expression as he stared at the pen, and then at Napoleon as if beseeching him to change his mind. But Napoleon held firm and said nothing, and returned his look with cold, hard eyes. At length Ferdinand hesitantly reached out and took the pen. Leaning forward, over the statement, he began to sign in a slow, trembling hand.As soon as he had raised the pen from the paper, Napoleon took the document away and laid it on the floor next to his chair to allow the ink to dry.

  ‘It is done. Now you may go.’

  Ferdinand bit his lip. ‘You guarantee that there will be no revenge taken by my father?’

  ‘I can guarantee it.’

  ‘I have your word on that?’

  ‘You have my word.Your father will not cause you, or any of your supporters, any harm.’

  Ferdinand nodded, and rose from his seat.‘Very well, then. I bid your majesty good night.’

  He turned away and paced wearily across the room, and closed the door quietly behind him. Napoleon’s lips slowly curled into a smile, then he reached down and picked up the signed statement. Turning towards a partion doorway, he called out, ‘Fouché!’

  The door opened at once and Fouché entered the room.

  ‘You heard?’

  ‘Every word, sire.’

  ‘He crumbled more quickly than I had anticipated. A disappointing young man, in almost every respect. Still, we have all we need now.Take this confession and have it published along with Charles’s attack on his son, and his abdication, in every newspaper in Paris and Madrid.’

  ‘Yes, sire.’ Fouché took the proffered document. ‘Will that be all?’

  ‘Yes. It is done. So falls the Spanish house of Bourbon,’ Napoleon said with quiet satisfaction.

  Chapter 41

  Even before the reports had been published in Europe’s newspapers Napoleon had settled the affairs of Charles and Ferdinand. The latter was sent into exile at Talleyrand’s estate at Valençay, to spend his remaining days under close watch. He would live comfortably enough, but in isolation from the rest of society and his countrymen. Charles, meanwhile, had hardened his position and negotiated a much better deal than his son received. A number of estates in France and an annual pension of some seven and a half million francs was the price he demanded for surrendering any claim to his former kingdom.

  Napoleon announced to Europe that Murat would remain in charge of the government in Spain until a new ruler was chosen. Again Napoleon approached Louis, who once more refused to abandon his palace in Holland, and so the Emperor turned to his older brother, Joseph.

  One day, soon after the conference at Bayonne had ended, Napoleon and his staff, together with his brothers, went out to shoot in the surrounding countryside. Berthier had learned from his experience
with the rabbits and made sure that this time there would be no question of the event’s turning into a farce. It was early in May and the first growths of spring were bursting from every tree, while new flowers sprinkled bright colours across the rolling, verdant countryside. Birds sang lustily in the trees, little knowing that the band of laughing men passing beneath them in open carriages would shortly be turning their guns on any feathered prey that came into their field of vision.

  The hunting party arrived at the site chosen for the shoot: a small hillock overlooking an expanse of flat, marshy ground.A light buffet had been prepared, and Napoleon chewed on a savoury game pie as he spoke to his brother, who was sitting beside him on a grassy bank.