‘It seems you are in luck. The next dance is yours, should you wish it.’
‘Thank you.’
They spent the rest of the afternoon together, either dancing - which sorely tested Arthur’s agility - or in light-hearted conversation. It turned out that the Pakenhams lived only thirty miles from Dangan and there were many common acquaintances in the area. By the time the dancing had finished and the guests began to head back to their carriages Arthur’s earlier preoccupations were long forgotten and the gentle teasing nature of this young woman was peculiarly attractive - addictive even. At length, she was called away by a friend in whose carriage she had arranged to travel back to Dublin.
‘Good Lord!’ Arthur glanced round anxiously. But there was no sign of Lady Aldborough, or her carriage amongst the few that remained. ‘I was supposed to travel back in Lady Aldborough’s carriage. She must think me terribly rude.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about her,’ Kitty’s friend replied. ‘Beau Cradock was kind enough to accompany her back to the castle in her carriage. They left some time ago.’
‘Damn!’ Arthur growled. If word of this got back to the vicereine she would not be happy with him.Then something else occurred to him. ‘How the hell am I supposed to get back?’
Kitty looked down in embarrassment. ‘Of course, I’d like to offer you a place in our carriage. But I’m afraid there’s no room.’
‘No matter,’ Arthur smiled. ‘I’m sure I will find a seat. It is has been a fine afternoon, Miss Pakenham.’
‘It has,’ she smiled. ‘It’s a shame that I have to return home tomorrow. Otherwise, I’d have enjoyed the pleasure of your company a little longer.’
Arthur felt a sharp pang of despair at her words, and the melancholic mood began to well up inside him again. He made himself smile. ‘I’m sure we will meet again, Miss Pakenham.’
‘I’ll look forward to it.’
Chapter 49
The Régiment de la Fère had been transferred to Auxonne, in the Burgundy region. When Napoleon arrived he was disappointed to find that Auxonne was a small provincial market town with few of the sights and distractions that had beguiled him in Paris. The barracks were a dilapidated sprawl of buildings on the edge of town, even though the regiment boasted its own artillery school where French officers, and a handful of foreigners, learned their trade and experimented with all manner of refinements to the charge, shot and the guns. Napoleon had been informed that the commandant of the school was General Baron du Tiel, something of a legend amongst the more professional of the artillery officers of the French Army. It was a fine opportunity to study under such a man and Napoleon looked forward to meeting the general as soon as possible.
It was late afternoon when he presented himself at the guardhouse. Once his documents had been checked he was directed to headquarters. Napoleon found the adjutant’s office and knocked on the door.
‘Come!’
Napoleon entered. Behind the desk Captain Des Mazis glanced up and his eyes widened as he recognised the arrival.
Napoleon saluted and then handed his documents over to the adjutant. ‘Lieutenant Buona Parte returning from leave, sir.’
‘Buona Parte! Good God, how long has it been?’ Captain Des Mazis frowned as he tried to recall. ‘A year? No, nearly a year and half, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I’m surprised to see you back.We’d almost given up hope that you’d return. Any illness that causes a man to be away from his regiment for so long tends to be the kind you never recover from.’ He smiled and stood up, offering his hand.
Napoleon took it. ‘It’s good to be back, sir.’
‘Good?’ Captain Des Mazis shook his head ruefully. ‘There’s not much good about this town, as I’m sure you’ve seen already. Quite a change from Valence.’ He smiled faintly.‘Still, there’s a few places to drink and enough whores to go round. It’ll do. At least you’ll have a room in the officers’ mess. Down the corridor and turn left at the end, into the hall. You can’t miss it. It’s the only cheerful spot for miles around.’
Napoleon saluted, left the adjutant’s office and followed his directions to the mess. The sounds of laughter and high-spirited conversation carried up the hall. Napoleon left the porter with instructions to find the mess sergeant and arrange some quarters for him and then paid him off. Smoothing down his hair and twitching the creases out of his jacket, Napoleon entered the mess.
The accommodation provided for the regiment’s officers was just as run down as the rest of the barracks. The floor was bare stone, and a few rickety chairs and tables were positioned along the damp walls. In the centre of the room a loose circle of young officers stood about two of their comrades who each had a bottle of wine perched on his head. Both men had drawn swords and were carefully keeping pace with each other as they tried to topple the other’s bottle.The other officers cheered them on, and paid no attention to Napoleon as he approached the ring. Squeezing between the shoulders of two of the onlookers, Napoleon could at last see that one of the fencers was his friend Alexander Des Mazis. Alexander stood stiffly, legs braced, eyes fixed on the tip of his opponent’s blade; the very picture of concentration and focus. Then he slid a foot forward, eased his weight behind it and quickly stretched out his arm. As the other man moved to parry, Alexander disengaged, raised the point and flicked the blade across the top of his opponent’s head.The bottle tumbled over and struck the ground in an explosion of green glass and blood-red wine.
‘Touché!’ Alexander shouted in triumph, tilting his head and catching the other bottle in his spare hand.‘That’s a half-louis you owe me.’
The other officer nodded ruefully, reached into his fob, pulled out a gold coin and tossed it to Alexander as the crowd began to break up. Alexander glanced round at his companions with a beaming smile until his eyes fixed on the small figure staring back at him with a grin.
‘Napoleon!’ Alexander sheathed his blade and strode over to grasp his friend by the shoulder.‘I thought I’d seen the last of you. Disappeared into that bolt hole of Corsica never to be heard from again. Now, here you are! What on earth kept you away for so long?’
‘Illness . . . Family business.’
‘And some woman, I’ll wager.’ Alexander nudged him.
‘Are you so keen to lose that half-louis already?’ Napoleon laughed. ‘Besides, I have little time for women.’
‘Of course.’ Alexander made a serious face. ‘When the choice is between curling up with a woman or a book, the book wins every time.’
‘Depends on the book.’
‘Then you haven’t met the right woman yet. I’ll have to set that right as soon as I can.’ Alexander raised the bottle. ‘Come on, let’s have a drink.’
They sat down at one of the tables and Alexander called out to one of the mess stewards to bring some glasses. He bit into the end of the cork protruding from the bottle and pulled it out with a grunt, spitting the cork on to the floor.
‘A local wine. Not the best, but it’ll help us to forget its origins.’The steward hurried over with two glasses and Alexander filled them to the brim. He raised his glass. ‘Good to see you again.’
‘And you.’
They downed the wine in one and Napoleon tried not to flinch at its acid burn in his throat and stomach. ‘Rough stuff.’
‘And it’s as good as we can get in Auxonne.’ Alexander shook his head. ‘Not the best of times, I think. Everything’s in short supply and prices are rising all the time. I haven’t tasted a really good wine in months. And thanks to the poor harvest there’s barely enough flour in town to bake a decent loaf of bread. It’s enough to make a grown man weep.’
‘Yes . . .’ Napoleon recalled the pinched faces of the townspeople he had passed in Auxonne.While Alexander might have to forgo his luxuries, they were struggling to keep themselves and their families from starvation. ‘It’s the same in nearly every town I passed through on the way here from Paris.There’s been rioting too. I tell
you, Alexander, I’m worried. It feels like the whole country is about to . . .’
‘About to what?’
‘I don’t know exactly. But it won’t be pretty.’
Alexander shrugged. ‘That’s what the parliament’s for. The King will give them all a chance to let off some steam. Once the clergy, the nobles and the commoners have had a chance to air their grievances it’ll all blow over.You’ll see.’
Napoleon raised his eyebrows. ‘You really think so?’
‘Of course.’Alexander filled their glasses again.‘Look here.The King needs taxes. He can’t get the money from the nobles. They just won’t stand for it. And since the clergy is stuffed with the sons of the nobility they’re hardly likely to go against the nobles. So that leaves the third estate outnumbered two to one. They’ll have to put up with an increase in taxes, whether they like it or not.’
‘I can tell you now, they won’t like it. And they won’t stand for it any longer.’
Alexander snorted. ‘Their stomachs might be empty, but the rest of their bodies are full of hot air.You were there at Lyons.You saw how quickly they gave in at the first sign of a bayonet.We’ve dealt with two more riots since then, with exactly the same result. A sharp reminder is what the rabble needs. That, or a decent harvest, or a few handouts of free bread, and they’ll quieten down soon enough.You’ll see.’
Napoleon stared down into his glass and swilled the red wine round just below the rim. He shrugged. ‘Let’s hope you are right.’
‘Anyway, enough of politics. What on earth have you been up to since you left us in Valence?’
As Napoleon related his news, his mind was still filled with grave doubts about the future. If all the nobility were as oblivious as Alexander to the anger swelling up in the hungry streets of the cities and in the surrounding countryside, then they would never even see the approaching storm that might one day sweep them away. Napoleon had gauged the popular mood in Paris. He had read the pamphlets and heard the guarded speeches that raged against the injustices afflicting France. It was as clear as day to him. The ordinary people - the peasants, the town labourers, the merchants, lawyers and the rest of the bourgeois - every one of them had simply had more than they could bear, and their voices would demand to be heard on the day that the Estates General were convened. Glancing round the other officers in the mess, Napoleon found it hard to believe that they could be so blind to the condition of their compatriots.
Chapter 50
Within a few weeks Napoleon had fallen back into the routine of army life.The long months in Paris with little to do had frustrated him terribly, and it was a positive pleasure to immerse himself in the practical science of artillery matters. Shortly after his return to duty Napoleon was assigned to the artillery school, a small building set off to one side of the barracks where General du Tiel and his small staff made studies of the latest technologies and theorised about the best manner in which to develop the tactical use of artillery.
It was Napoleon’s responsibility to make all the arrangements for the field experiments. This meant preparing the guns on the range and ensuring that the size of the charges and the shot used were as consistent as possible. He had the pick of the regiment’s gun crews and personally selected the best weapons from the artillery park. As the months passed Napoleon developed a thorough understanding of the potential of the cannon at his disposal and knew exactly what damage they were capable of wreaking.
By autumn his growing expertise in artillery matters had impressed the general enough for him to permit the young lieutenant to write up the official reports of the artillery school’s experiments. As the evenings drew in, Napoleon worked late into the night by candlelight, wholly absorbed by the subject matter. When he was not working on the reports Napoleon returned to his quarters with books and technical manuals borrowed from the artillery school’s library. Sitting at his small desk he read through them, making notes as he went, steadily adding breadth to his knowledge. At the same time he was reading many of the political pamphlets that had found their way into the bookshops and libraries of Auxonne.There was a palpable sense of excitement in the local people as the date for the opening of parliament was set for the fifth of May the next year, and Napoleon even overheard some of the soldiers in the barracks discussing what might be achieved for the people of France, if only the King and the privileged orders paid heed to the complaints of the deputies representing the commoners. With so much at stake, how could the King ignore the suffering of the vast majority of his people? The soldiers, like the townspeople, were full of hope and Napoleon, like them, sensed that destiny was on the side of the downtrodden. Only a fool would not accede to the reasonable demands for a fairer constitution that flowed to Paris from every corner of the land. Somewhere amongst all the reforms that might be enacted Napoleon hoped that there would be justice for his family; some compensation for the contract that the government had failed to honour. This was what he told his mother in the letter he wrote to explain why he had not returned to Corsica.
If the people of Auxonne and many of the soldiers in the barracks were preoccupied with the coming parliament, the same could not be said of most of the officers. They continued with their drinking and whoring and joining the hunts and attending the balls organised by the region’s nobility. Since Napoleon kept himself apart from most of the officers he received fewer and fewer invitations to attend such events. Even though this self-enforced solitude depressed him from time to time, there was little that Napoleon could do about it. He was already sending as much of his pay as he could afford home to his family in Corsica to help his mother feed them. What little was left meant that he could barely afford to eat, let alone join Alexander and the others for a night of drinking in the meagre taverns of Auxonne.
His prolonged absences from the officers’ mess meant that he instantly attracted attention on the rare occasions when he did make a visit. Napoleon noted the sidelong glances, barely concealed laughter and low-key comments that he assumed were directed at him. He did his best to ignore them. Sometimes he encountered Alexander in the mess and was able to enjoy his friend’s company until Alexander was joined by some of his cronies. Then the conversation inevitably turned towards Napoleon as the other officers indulged themselves in a favourite pastime, namely making fun of Napoleon and his Corsican origins. Napoleon curbed his temper and endured the teasing as far as he could.
As the new year of 1789 came, and winter gave way to spring, the charged political atmosphere that had gripped France began to divide the members of the officers’ mess according to their class and their principles.
When the new parliament opened in May, the men of the regiment scoured every report that reached Auxonne from Paris. It took several days for all twelve hundred deputies to present their credentials, and then it turned out that the King’s ministers had not yet decided whether the three estates should meet separately, or together. So the days stretched into weeks as the clergy of the first estate and the nobility of the second estate refused to share a debating chamber with the deputies representing the common people of France. The lack of a spirit of compromise fed the tensions both in the officers’ mess at Auxonne and in the streets of the town.
Napoleon, who was by now well versed in the arguments that had been put forward for constitutional reform, was a natural supporter of the cause of the third estate.There were a few others like him, but most of the officers stood by their noble origins and loudly proclaimed their support for the traditional privileges of the nobility, and denounced the aspirations of the common people.
One evening, towards the end of June, as rain lashed down on Auxonne, Napoleon hurried across the parade ground between the artillery school and the officers’ mess. Stepping out of the rain he removed his dripping greatcoat and hat and passed them to the waiting steward. A group of junior officers, including the Des Mazis brothers, was playing a noisy game of cards on tables to one side of the fireplace and Napoleon made his way past them and turned t
o warm his back at the hearth. He caught Alexander’s eye and nodded a greeting.
‘What, not reading a history book tonight, Napoleon?’
‘You know, you could learn a thing or two from books,’ he replied wearily.
Alexander shrugged. ‘What is it to me what happened a thousand years ago? Anyway, have you heard the news?’
Napoleon shook his head.
‘There’s been an outbreak of rioting in Seurre,’ said Alexander. ‘Something to do with bread prices. The colonel’s sending a detachment down there to calm things down.’
‘Seurre?’ Napoleon frowned. ‘Where’s that?’
‘Small town, two days’ march from here. My brother’s leading the detachment. He’ll soon put that rabble to flight.’
‘I’m sure he will.’
Alexander stared at him a moment. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Just that those rioters will be weak with starvation and armed with sticks and knives.What chance have they got against trained soldiers armed with muskets? They’ll run at the first volley.’
‘Of course they will, the cowardly scum.’
‘Cowardly scum?’ Napoleon shook his head. ‘No. They’re just ordinary people. Hunger has driven them to act.’
‘Napoleon,’ Captain Des Mazis interrupted, ‘be careful. You sound like you’re on their side.’
‘No. I’m not.We cannot afford to let these rioters defy the law. Even so, I understand their grievances. I sympathise with them.’
Captain Des Mazis frowned. ‘You sympathise with them?’
‘Of course, sir.’ Napoleon looked down at the floor thoughtfully. ‘They are subjected to all manner of taxes: the tithe, the hearth tax and capitation tax.When all those are paid, they are left with a pittance, and it means that they spend their lives struggling to survive. I can understand their despair. And I can understand their anger when they look at the nobility and the clergy and see them enjoying lives of luxury, unburdened by any tax. What astonishes me is that they have put up with it for so long. I can only begin to imagine the suffering that has driven those people in Seurre to take action.’
Young Bloods Page 32
