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It took an effort to walk calmly to the edge of the platform and descend to the floor. The grenadiers used their muskets to push the crowd back and create a small cordon round the two brothers, and then they forced their way back towards the door. Napoleon stared straight ahead and did not look at the angry faces shouting at him from only a few feet away. He felt something strike his cheek and realised that someone had spat on him. Abruptly he stopped, but Lucien took his arm and forced him on, towards the door. ‘Keep going!’

They were pursued out of the chamber and the deputies only gave up when Napoleon, Lucien and their escort hurriedly retreated down the stairs. Shaken, the two brothers emerged into the courtyard where hundreds of other soldiers and officers had gathered in response to the deafening howls of protest from the chamber. They stared at their commander in shock and Lucien gripped his arm.

‘Speak to them! Say something quickly!’

‘Say what?’

‘Napoleon, for God’s sake, all will be decided in the next few minutes.We’ve lost the debate. Now we must use force.The men are waiting for a lead.You’d better give it right now, or everything is lost.’

He gave his older brother a gentle push and Napoleon stepped forward, on to the edge of the flight of steps that looked out over the courtyard. Napoleon drew a deep breath and thrust out his arms towards his men.

‘Soldiers! We are betrayed. The deputies have defied the will of the Directors, the senators and the people of France! They would seek to sell their loyalty to our enemies. They even attempted to assassinate the president of the chamber and me just a moment ago. I wanted to speak to the deputies and they answered me with daggers!’ Napoleon beat his fist against his chest. ‘I have served the revolution since the first. I have shed my blood on the battlefield for the revolution and you all know how many victories I have won for the honour of France.Yet they call me traitor! They are the traitors! The crisis is at hand, my comrades. If we hesitate now then all France is lost! We must clear out that nest of traitors.’ He stabbed a finger towards the debating chamber and many of the soldiers cheered.

Lucien noticed that a good many still did not look convinced. He stepped forward and drew Napoleon’s sword and held it aloft. ‘Soldiers! Soldiers, hear me! I am Lucien Bonaparte, brother of the general. I love him as dearly as my life itself, yet I swear to you that I would run him through with this blade if ever he threatened the liberty that we have gained through the revolution!’ His voice trembled with emotion and the men in the courtyard were visibly moved by his words. Lucien pressed on. ‘The revolution is in grave danger, soldiers. The royalists are on the verge of victory. Only we can stop them.The cry once more is, To Arms! Long live General Bonaparte! Long live the revolution! Long live France!’

The soldiers took up the cheers and the deafening roar filled the courtyard.While it continued, Napoleon found the officer in command of the grenadiers and hurriedly gave his orders. The men formed up quickly and with a drummer beating the advance they tramped into the building and up the stairs towards the debating chamber. The deputies, who were busy debating a motion to declare Napoleon an outlaw, turned nervously towards the sound. As the doors were flung open by the soldiers panic gripped them and they ran from the hall, knocking chairs and each other over as they scrambled towards the other exits and even the windows, dropping down into the gardens below before streaming away from St-Cloud.

Only a handful remained. Those who were the most loyal supporters of Lucien and his brother. As night fell the president returned to the chamber. He stared at the rows of overturned chairs and abandoned notebooks and papers. Then he calmly resumed his seat on the platform. A company of grenadiers guarded the entrances with orders not to admit anyone. Lucien had prepared a document which he now read out to the handful of deputies gathered before him.

‘The motion before the chamber of deputies is that this house approves the decisions of the Directors and senators of the republic to dissolve the government, pending the drafting of a new constitution by a provisional body.’ He looked up. ‘All those in favour?’ His words echoed round the hall with a hollow sound as his supporters raised their hands.There was a brief pause before Lucien smiled. ‘The motion is carried unanimously.’ He banged his gavel. ‘I declare this session closed, and the house dissolved. My thanks to you, gentlemen. My thanks, and the gratitude of the nation.’

Lucien was the last to leave the chamber and he paused to take a final look round before he smiled and went to find his brother, who was waiting in one of the drawing rooms with the other senior officers, as well as Sieyès and Ducos.

‘It’s done,’ he announced simply.‘All authority has now passed into the hands of the provisional consulate.’ He bowed his head to Sieyès and Ducos. ‘May I be the first to offer you my congratulations?’

Then he turned to Napoleon. ‘First Consul, what are your orders?’

Chapter 52

‘Moreau?’ Napoleon eased himself lower into his bath so that the water lapped over the edge of his chin. He shook his head. ‘And what does General Moreau have to say to me today?’

Bourrienne broke the seal and unfolded the dispatch. He held it carefully so that the perspiration that glistened on his brow did not drip on to the paper and make the ink run. The steam that filled the bathroom of Napoleon’s apartment at the Luxembourg Palace was bad enough already for the documents that Bourrienne was obliged to bring in to read to the First Consul, while Napoleon spent up to two hours at a time immersed in the hottest water that he could stand. Peculiar working conditions, Bourrienne thought to himself, but then Napoleon was a peculiar individual. Since the December plebiscite had confirmed popular support for the new constitution, Napoleon had drawn to himself the workload of almost every major office of state.The First Consul worked seventeen or eighteen hours a day, not counting his baths, and there seemed to be no detail, however small, that ever escaped his phenomenal memory. With a mind like that in charge of France’s affairs the other two consuls had soon proved to be superfluous. Sieyès and Ducos, after some faltering efforts to stand alongside Napoleon, had accepted the inevitable and given up their posts at the heart of the new government. But not everyone supported Napoleon’s rise to power. Many politicians and army officers were uncertain about the bloodless coup of November, and none more so than Moreau.

In the weeks that followed Napoleon had been careful to reward his followers and make peace with his rivals. Murat had been appointed commander of the Consular Guard - a hand-picked corps of tough veterans whose duty it was to protect Napoleon. Murat had also been permitted to take Caroline Bonaparte as his bride, and while Napoleon was glad to have such a formidable soldier for a brother-in-law he could not help thinking that Murat had his work cut out with the most shrewish of Napoleon’s sisters. Fouché was now head of police and Talleyrand was in charge of foreign affairs. Masséna was in command of the Army of Italy, Berthier would shortly be in command of the Army of Reserve and Moreau had the most prestigious command of them all - the well-equipped and hard-fighting Army of the Rhine. Which was where Napoleon’s chief difficulty lay.

Bourrienne quickly scanned the note and then began to read it through.‘He’s taking issue again with your plan for the coming campaign.’>

Napoleon was silent for a moment, his brow gradually tightening into a dark scowl as he stared at the chandelier overhead. At length he muttered, ‘Damn the man, what does he think he is playing at? We must beat Austria and we must beat her swiftly.To do that we must destroy her armies and take Vienna before autumn sets in. Any fool can see that. But not Moreau. No, he wants to creep forward like a tortoise, and duck back into his shell the moment he senses danger. Bastard . . .’