Fire and Sword (81 page)

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Authors: Simon Scarrow

BOOK: Fire and Sword
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‘Shit.’ Napoleon clenched his fists as he glared at the scattered men of the battalion, then at the Spanish battery. Some of the gun crews had climbed on top of the earthworks and were jeering at the Frenchmen.
 
‘Damn them!’ Napoleon growled. He turned angrily in his saddle and pointed at the captain of his escort.‘Take that battery for me! At the gallop! Now.’
 
The captain looked up the narrow track to the pass, where it crossed the open ground in front of the enemy line.
 
‘What are you waiting for?’ Napoleon snapped.
 
The captain saluted and turned to shout orders to his squadron.The eighty men of his command formed up in column, four abreast. Drawing his sabre, the captain spurred his horse forward and galloped up the track.With cries to urge their mounts on and the jingling of bits the rest of the men pounded after him. Napoleon watched as the squadron charged up the road, past the men of the battalion that had broken earlier. As they reached the pass and came within range of the nearest Spanish infantry the enemy loosed off a volley, knocking several men from their horses. The horsemen slowed, veered away towards the shelter of a small outcrop of rocks and reined in. Napoleon rose up in his stirrups.
 
‘What the devil? What are those cowards doing? Attack, you fools! Attack! How dare you cower in front of that gang of Spanish peasants?’ He turned to one of his orderlies. ‘You! Ride up there and tell them to continue the charge. Tell them that they shame themselves and they shame their Emperor. Go!’
 
The orderly saluted and spurred his horse forward. Bending low over the animal’s neck he raced across the ground in front of the Spanish infantry and reined in with the surviving men of the escort, who were busy forming up in the shelter of the rocks. Napoleon saw the orderly gesturing back towards the hillock as he passed on the order. The captain of the escort seemed to argue for a moment and then turned away, making for the head of his small band of comrades. His sabre flashed as he raised it up, held it there for a moment and then swept it towards the nearest Spanish battery. The squadron burst out of the cover of the rocks and charged towards the enemy guns. As soon as they emerged, the Spanish artillery opened up, firing case shot into the charging Poles.The blasts tore men and horses apart, and ripped up the ground around them.The distance to the guns was no more than a quarter of a mile, and every shot struck down two or three men at a time as they charged towards their objective. The men’s instinct for self-preservation caused their ranks to spread out so they presented a more open target as they galloped on, swords flashing, desperately shouting their war cries. It was all over in less than a minute. The last man reached the earthworks, spurred his horse up above the gunners, and was instantly shot from his saddle. The rest of his comrades, and their mounts, lay strewn across the ground in front of the battery.
 
Napoleon swallowed at the pitiful sight.They had died at his order. His temper had snapped and their lives had been thrown away. His headache was worse than ever and he reached up and rubbed his brow. Then he gestured to one of his remaining orderlies. ‘Ride back to headquarters. I want a regiment of Guard cavalry brought forward.They are to wait below the pass until they are ordered to charge.’
 
As he waited for reinforcements Napoleon watched as Ruffin’s men steadily fought their way forward again and began to take on the Spanish infantry in an unequal musket duel. Better training and discipline on the part of the French meant that enemy soldiers soon melted away. A dense column of chasseurs pounded up the road past Napoleon’s hillock, formed into lines just below the crest and stood waiting with drawn sabres. Up ahead the smoke from the musket duel wreathed the pass, swirling away here and there as the wind carried it off. Through such a gap Napoleon saw that the Spanish line was wavering and immediately sent forward the order to charge.
 
The strident notes of cavalry trumpets echoed down the slope and then the horsemen swept forward in a rumbling wave, sweeping round the end of Ruffin’s infantry and rolling up the enemy line before splitting in two and charging each of the enemy batteries. It was a brave sight. Too brave for the defenders, who threw down their weapons and their equipment and ran for their lives. Napoleon watched for a while longer until he could be sure that the pass was in French hands. Then, wincing at the pounding agony in his head, he turned his horse away from the battle and rode back down to the village of Sepúlveda. Berthier sent for his camp bed from the army wagon train and had it set up in a small cell built on one side of the church for the local priest. Napoleon gratefully collapsed on to his bed, fully dressed, and fell into a deep sleep.
 
Chapter 49
 
As soon as the last of the enemy was cleared from the pass the army advanced over the Guadarrama range and on to the plain beyond. The first French cavalry patrols rode warily into the suburbs of the Spanish capital the day after the Battle of Somosierra. They reported back to imperial headquarters that the Madrid junta had ordered the arming of thousands of the common people, and the construction of makeshift defences and artillery positions to cover the approaches to the capital’s gates. In the first days of December the French army made camp outside the city and constructed their own batteries of siege guns ready to pound the hastily erected defences surrounding the entrance to Madrid.
 
While preparations for the assault were made Napoleon sent an envoy forward to demand the surrender of the capital. On the first day the envoy was rudely rebuffed, but on the second, the junta requested the opportunity to discuss terms. Accordingly, as evening fell over the plain and the soldiers began to light their fires, a small party of representatives rode out from Madrid and were shown to the gated estate that had been chosen for the imperial headquarters. Napoleon waited for them with his brother Joseph, and Berthier was with them to take notes, as ever. Once the representatives had been searched they were escorted into the Emperor’s presence by a section of guardsmen, who remained in attendance, watchful for any sign of treachery from the Spaniards. Napoleon had decided to keep the encounter as brief and formal as possible and there were no chairs in the room. The fire had not been lit, but the room was brightly illuminated by scores of candles burning in the heavy iron holders suspended from the ceiling. The leader of the Spaniards, a tall, graceful man of advanced years, stepped forward to speak for the junta.
 
‘I am Don Francisco Pedrosa of Castille, grandee of Spain and member of the Madrid junta, your imperial majesty.’ He concluded with an elaborate bow. Don Francisco had studiously avoided looking at Joseph, as if he was not even in the room, and Napoleon felt his anger rise at this deliberate slight to his brother.
 
‘Are you authorised to accept terms, or merely to discuss them?’ he asked tersely.
 
‘I speak and act for the junta,’ Don Francisco answered. ‘If we make an agreement here, tonight, it will be binding.’
 
‘And these other men with you.Who are they?’
 
‘Members of the junta and representatives of the Madrid councils.’
 
‘Do they speak French?’
 
‘They do. The junta insisted that negotiations be held in front of witnesses.’
 
‘Really? But your witnesses are hardly impartial, Don Francisco.’
 
‘Any more than yours are, sire.’The Spaniard smiled wearily.‘I doubt there is an impartial man left in Europe these days.’
 
Napoleon returned the smile. ‘We live in difficult times, señor. Though that does not need to be the case. France and Spain are allies.’
 
‘Allies? I think not, sire.You come here as invaders.’
 
‘No.We come here to restore the rightful King of Spain to his throne and end the civil strife that is tearing his kingdom apart.’ Napoleon placed his hand on Joseph’s shoulder. ‘You have but to acknowledge his legitimacy and set down your arms and I swear to you that my soldiers will leave Spanish soil.’
 
‘All of them?’ asked Don Francisco.‘And can you guarantee that they will not return?’
 
‘They will not return of my volition. I have no desire to enter the territory of an ally, without that ally’s express permission.’
 
‘I see.’ Don Francisco nodded. ‘You will forgive me for asking, sire, but from whom would such permission be sought?’
 
‘Why, your King, naturally.’
 
‘Ah, there we have something of an impasse between us, since neither the Madrid junta, nor indeed any junta in Spain, recognises the authority of your brother.’
 
‘Nevertheless, Joseph is your legitimate King.’ Napoleon nudged his brother. ‘Is that not so?’
 
‘Yes.’ Joseph swallowed nervously.‘That is so.After all, Don Francisco, the Madrid junta freely offered me the crown.’
 
‘I beg to differ with your description of events,
monsieur
.’ Don Francisco spoke the last word with heavy emphasis.‘The offer was only made after your Marshal Murat threatened the former members of the junta with prison if they did not offer you the crown.’
 
‘That is also a matter of opinion,’ Joseph countered. ‘I rather suspect that they have since been coerced into making such a claim by you and the other rebels.’
 
Don Francisco drew a deep breath before he continued. ‘We could argue the point for as long as you like, but the present reality is that you are not the King of Spain.You are a usurper.Your writ runs no further than the screen of French soldiers you surround yourself with.The rest of Spain will never accept you as their King.’
 
‘They will!’ Napoleon intervened. ‘The moment we have eradicated the nests of rebels that challenge the authority of King Joseph. Those who take British gold to stir up unrest and provoke challenges to the rule of the rightful King.’
 
‘Then I fear that you may well have to eradicate almost every man, woman and child in Spain, sire,’ Don Francisco replied. ‘For they are all against the imposition of a man who appears to be little more than the puppet of his brother.’
 
Napoleon felt the blood drain from his face. ‘How dare you?’
 
‘I am only telling you the truth, sire.Your brother can never be king here.’
 
‘He is the King. You will honour him as such, or you will be considered rebels and traitors and treated accordingly.’
 
Joseph glanced at his brother in alarm and then spoke again.‘My dear Don Francisco, there is no need for such resentment. I swear to you now, as I swore on the first day of my reign, that I will be a just and fair ruler of Spain.There will be no reprisals against those who are currently in revolt against me. I have no desire to sow further seeds of disharmony. I truly wish to do no more than serve my people and see that they are offered the same opportunities for peace and enrichment as the rest of Europe.’
 
‘That is all very laudable. But it is too late for you now. If you are imposed on Spain by force, then you can only hope to rule by force. The people simply will not accept you as King.’
 
‘And whom would they choose?’ asked Napoleon. ‘Some fat Bourbon imbecile?’
 
Don Francisco shrugged. ‘That is not for me to say, sire. But if that was their choice I would feel duty bound to honour it.’
 
Napoleon stared at him, and then laughed coldly.‘Then you are truly a self-deluded fool.’
 
‘That is not helpful, brother,’ Joseph protested.
 
‘Be quiet!’
 
Don Francisco looked at them with raised brow and a faint mocking smile. ‘Clearly I would be a fool if I imagined that Joseph would be anything more than your mouthpiece, sire. The moment he attempted to be his own man, you would call him to heel.’
 
Napoleon shook his head. ‘I have had enough of this! Further discussion is pointless. Go back to the junta and tell them to surrender. If they don’t, I will start bombarding the city’s defences at dawn tomorrow. Once they are breached I will let my soldiers sack the city.’
 
Joseph turned to him with a horrified expression. ‘No, brother.You cannot threaten that.’
 
‘It is my will,’ Napoleon said firmly, his steely gaze fixed on Don Francisco. ‘Now go back to your junta and tell them what I have said. If I do not have your surrender by first light, I will order my guns to open fire.’
 
Don Francisco returned the Emperor’s gaze unflinchingly. ‘I will tell them exactly what you have said, sire.’
 
He bowed, and the other representatives followed suit before they were escorted from the room by the grenadiers. Once the door was closed Joseph turned towards his brother.
 
‘They will not surrender.’

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