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Authors: Simon Scarrow

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A sharp knock on the door broke into Napoleon’s thoughts as he stood gazing into the heart of the fire, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked up as the door opened and Bertheir entered the room.
‘Prince Metternich is here, sire.’
‘Good. Show him in.’
Berthier bowed his head and left the room, leaving the door open. He returned a moment later and ushered the Austrian diplomat into Napoleon’s presence. Metternich was accompanied by two members of his staff and they remained a respectful distance behind their master as he approached Napoleon and took the hand that the Emperor extended towards him.
‘It is good to see you again.’ Napoleon smiled warmly. ‘I trust the accommodation for you and your staff is satisfactory?’
‘Most comfortable, I thank you, sire. Though it would have been agreeable to have taken some refreshment and a rest before continuing our business.’
‘I am sorry for that, but the peace of Europe comes before the comforts of the peacemakers, as I am sure you would agree.’
Metternich smiled thinly. ‘Indeed, sire.’
‘Good. You may wish to know that the Empress has written to me. She sends her warmest affection to her father, and trusts that he still regards France as a good friend and ally.’
‘I will pass on her words to Emperor Francis,’ Metternich replied flatly. ‘He will be pleased to hear from his daughter.’
‘I’m sure.’ Napoleon smiled. ‘And do reassure his imperial majesty that his son-in-law echoes the sentiments of his wife.’
‘Of course.’
‘Come then, and sit.’ Napoleon waved his guests towards the oval table that had been set in the middle of the room. The Austrians waited for the Emperor to be seated first and then took their places, before Napoleon signalled to Berthier to sit beside him. When all had settled, Napoleon folded his hands together and addressed Metternich.
‘So, my dear Prince, what terms have Alexander and Frederick William decided to offer me?’
Napoleon saw that Metternich was unsettled at the directness of the question, no doubt discomforted by the absence of the extended pleasantries that had been a convention of diplomatic negotiations in the days when Talleyrand had served as Napoleon’s Foreign Minister. Metternich turned to one of his aides. ‘The document case, please.’
The aide reached down for a small leather satchel, unfastened the buckle and opened it on the table before sliding it across to Metternich. The Foreign Minister picked up the top sheet of paper and looked up at Napoleon.
‘Since you are determined to address matters directly, I’ll just present you with the summary of their terms.’
Napoleon nodded.
Metternich held the document up close to his eyes and began.‘One: agreement to dismantling of the Duchy of Warsaw and the division of its existing territories between the central powers of Europe. Two: agreement to the disestablishment of the Confederation of the Rhine. Three: Prussia is to have its frontiers of 1805 restored. Four: the Continental Blockade is to be lifted and France is to respect the shipping of neutral nations. Five: all French troops are to be withdrawn behind the Rhine.’ He lowered the document and looked up.‘There are other terms, but they are peripheral and can be negotiated once the main points are agreed to.’
Napoleon sat still and silent for a moment as he stared at Prince Metternich. Then he laughed contemptuously. ‘Is that all they ask of me? There is no demand that I give up my territories in Italy, or that I abandon my brother in Spain?’
‘The Tsar and the King are prepared to let you retain your possessions in Italy,’ Metternich replied, and then allowed himself a slight smile.‘As for Spain, I suspect that the Peninsula will not be within your gift for much longer, sire.’
‘Really? And what makes you so certain of that, I wonder?’
‘The latest accounts of the war indicate that your armies there are exhausted and demoralised, and the population is almost wholly against the reign of your brother. And now General Wellington is marching across Spain with impunity.’
‘What is Wellington to me?’ Napoleon snapped. ‘Just another over-cautious English general who will be thrown back into the sea the moment I deign to lead my armies against him in person. For the present, I am content to hold on to what can be defended in that country, but in due course the Spanish will be tamed and Wellington and his rabble of British, Spanish and Portuguese soldiers will be crushed. All Europe can be certain of that, at least.’
Metternich shrugged. ‘I can only admire your formidable confidence, sire. However, Spain is not an issue for the present. We are here to discuss the armistice. I need to know if you accept the terms offered by Russia and Prussia, and if you have any counter-proposals to make.’
Napoleon stared down at his hands.‘You must realise that there is no question of my accepting the terms as they stand. France would be humiliated before the eyes of the world.
I
would be humiliated. How long do you think it would take the people of France to rise up and depose me, as they did Louis? What if there was another revolution? All would be swept away and the powers of Europe would be dealing with another popular tyranny bent on tearing down the institutions of the old regimes. I am all that stands between the thrones of Europe and anarchy. Alexander and Frederick William would do well to remember that before they seek to depose me.’
‘They have not said that that is what they want to achieve,’ Metternich responded carefully.
‘Of course not. They just want peace,’ Napoleon sneered.
Metternich did not rise to the bait and sat silently. Napoleon looked up and stared coldly at the Austrian. He noted the long nose and narrow face, and the same haughty air of superiority and condescension that Metternich shared with Talleyrand, and which so easily enraged him. None of these people, none of the rulers and aristocrats who held sway over the masses through an accident of birth, none of them would rest easy while a man who had fashioned his own destiny ruled France. He stirred slowly in his seat and leaned closer to Metternich.
‘What does Austria hope to gain from this?’
‘Sire?’
‘Let us assume for a moment that I am not some naive simpleton who is happy to believe that Austria is playing the honest broker. So, what does Austria hope to gain?’
Metternich smiled. ‘This is becoming the kind of conversation that is best conducted in confidence, sire.’
Napoleon nodded.‘Very well. Berthier, you others, leave us. At once.’
Berthier instantly rose to his feet, gathered his notes and headed for the door. After an enquiring glance at Metternich, and a brief nod from him, the aides followed suit, closing the door behind them.
‘That’s better, sire. Now then, you want to know Austria’s position? I will tell you. But first you must know that this is what I believe, and while I cannot speak directly for Emperor Francis and his inner council I know that they have some sympathy with my views. Beyond that, they are, how shall I put it?’ He smiled thinly.‘They are susceptible to a well-reasoned argument.’
‘As you are susceptible to financial inducement,’ Napoleon cut in. ‘Or shall we speak plainly, Prince Metternich? You will take a bribe.’
‘You mean to bribe me?’ Metternich touched his breast and affected a hurt look. ‘Sire, I would have you know that I am not Talleyrand. He raised corruptibility to an art form. I am not nearly so well versed in the craft.’ He continued hurriedly as he saw Napoleon’s brows begin to knit together. ‘You ask what Austria wants from the present situation. It is simple. We want stability. Both within Europe, and between Europe and Russia. We need a real balance of power in Europe. France must give up some of her influence to Austria and Prussia. If we can draw Prussia into common cause with us, then Frederick William will have no need of an alliance with Russia. Every year the Tsar pushes his frontiers closer to Europe.’
‘Closer to Austrian lands, you mean.’
Metternich nodded.‘True. That is why it would be better for Austria to be in alliance with France than with Russia. Yet that would only be acceptable to my Emperor if France reliquished its grip over much of the territory it presently controls.’
‘I will not do that.’
Metternich sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before he continued.‘Sire, let me be brutally frank with you. You cannot win a war against the combined strengths of Russia, Prussia, Sweden and Britain. While this armistice has been in place your enemies have added new strength to their armies. You are outnumbered, and the odds against you will grow as each day passes. Our spies report that your men are weary, that Saxony cannot sustain your army for much longer and that your stocks of ammunition will be exhausted after another month’s campaigning. Save your army, save your throne and make peace now. If you don’t then I have to warn you that there is a good chance that Austria may well throw her lot in with those powers allied against you.’
‘Why?’ Napoleon narrowed his eyes. ‘Why would Francis do such a thing? You said it yourself, he has more to fear from the Tsar than from me. Austria should be fighting alongside France.’
‘That is true, sire. But see it from our point of view. There are many in Vienna who are still smarting over the harsh terms of the peace you imposed after Wagram. They, and others, also point to the disaster that you involved us with in Russia. Now the nations of Europe are gathering their strength against France. If you are defeated and we are defeated alongside you then Austria can be sure that Russia will force peace terms on us even more unpleasant than those you imposed. So . . .’ Metternich smiled. ‘An alliance with France is not without its risks. If we remain neutral and you are beaten, which seems the most likely outcome, then we will be powerless to intervene when the peace terms are imposed. That will be to the Tsar’s advantage. Therefore, as some of my compatriots argue, it would be better for Austria to be on the winning side in this war, even if that means being an unwilling ally of Russia. That is the real danger you face, sire. Your position is made more vulnerable still by any reverses you suffer elsewhere in your empire. If you would avoid disaster, then I urge you to make peace.’
‘I see.’ Napoleon folded the tips of his fingers together and fixed Metternich with a piercing stare. ‘You make a good case. But you did neglect to mention one thing. The fact that England has offered to pay Austria half a million pounds in gold if you declare war on me, and another two million to support your war effort thereafter.’ He smiled. ‘You see, I have my spies too.’
‘And they are well informed indeed, sire,’ Metternich admitted. ‘Yes, that is true. But I believe Emperor Francis would still prefer to have peace than to take a bribe and have war. However, if you refuse these terms then Austria will be compelled to act.’
‘Am I to take that as an ultimatum?’
‘Yes, sire.’
Napoleon’s eyebrows flickered. ‘I see. You have a copy of the detailed demands?’
‘Of course, sire.’
‘Then leave them here. I must have time to consider them.’
‘Yes, sire. The Tsar has authorised me to offer you an extension to the armistice, by two more weeks.’
‘That is generous. Please express my gratitude to him.’ Napoleon stood up abruptly. ‘Very well, I will discuss the terms with my advisors and we will draw up our own terms to put before Alexander and Frederick William. Since the hour is late, I suggest we conclude this discussion.’
‘Yes, sire.’ Metternich hurriedly pulled out a copy of the peace terms and left it on the table as he swept the rest of the documents and notes back into his leather case and refastened it. Napoleon escorted him to the door of the salon and they exchanged a formal bow before Metternich left, summoning his aides to join him as he made his way along the corridor towards the stairs leading down to the main hall of the palace.
Napoleon stared after him for a moment and then snorted with derision. He returned to the table and carried one of the chairs over to the fire and sat down, leaning forward and resting his chin on his knuckles. After a moment he reached inside his waistcoat for the small locket he always carried with him. Clicking it open he gazed at the miniatures of the Empress and his infant son, gently caressing them both with his thumb. He had hoped that his marriage into the Austrian royal family might provide the necessary link that would prevent the two nations from engaging in yet another war against each other. Now it seemed that blood-letting was thicker than blood, he mused. He snapped the locket shut and slipped it back in his pocket. A short while later, Berthier entered the room.
‘Prince Metternich has left the palace, sire.’
‘Good.’ Napoleon nodded towards the small door concealed in the wall of the salon that linked the room to a service corridor. ‘Did you hear everything?’
‘Yes, sire.’
‘What do you think?’
Berthier carefully considered his response. ‘Sire, the proposed terms are unacceptable. Our enemies must know that. I suggest we do what we can to prolong the negotiations and see what concessions we might win from them. Who knows, we could even have a peace agreement.’
‘Peace? Do you really think the Tsar wants peace? He will not be content until France, the last obstacle to his ambitions in Europe, is brought down. There can be no peace between us.’
BOOK: The Fields of Death
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