Fire and Sword (67 page)
Authors: Simon Scarrow
‘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.’ Napoleon 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.
‘Joseph, you will recall the conversation we had about what might happen should the throne of Spain fall vacant.’
‘I recall it very well,’ Joseph replied flatly.
‘Well, what do you say to my offer now?’
‘It is very generous of you, but I am not sure that I am the right man to rule Spain. Besides, I am in the midst of reforming the government of Naples. It is a task I must complete if we are to win the people over.’
‘That work can be easily continued by another,’ Napoleon said dismissively. ‘And you would have the chance to improve a much more significant country. In time your reforms could make Spain a great power once again.You would be loved by the people and envied for their affection by many of the other rulers in Europe.What say you?’
Joseph was silent for a moment as he considered his reply. ‘I say that it is a generous offer. A tempting offer, but for the present the throne of Spain needs to be occupied by a better man than I. Someone like Murat, perhaps? He has been in Madrid long enough to make useful connections amongst the local people and officials. He has even intimated in letters to me that he would be pleased to take the crown if it was offered to him.’
‘He has said that to you, has he?’ Napoleon mused, instantly realising that Murat meant to use Joseph to support his claim to the throne, because he dared not broach the matter with the Emperor himself.With good reason, Napoleon decided. Murat was a fine soldier and an inspirational commander. He was also headstrong and easily corrupted, and could be breathtakingly tactless. Hardly the right choice of ruler for a country like Spain where the sensitivities of the people had to be handled with great care and a degree of compassion.That required the attributes that Joseph possessed and Murat did not.A lesser crown might be found for Murat one day, since he was a member of the Bonaparte family by marriage. Napoleon dismissed thoughts of his brother-in-law and continued.
‘There is no question of Murat’s being King of Spain. It is my judgement that you are the best man for the job. I am depending on you, Joseph. I need you to do this for me. I need a strong, wise man to take charge of France’s southern flank. Who else can I trust? You have always looked out for me, for as long as I can remember. I have always depended on you.Will you fail me now?’
Joseph picked up a small bread roll and bit a corner off it as he stared out across the flat ground. He was silent for a moment and Napoleon tried not to appear anxious as he waited for his brother to speak. At length Joseph nodded.
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