Napoleon paused at the door and looked back at the man, feeling sickened by his grovelling display of gratitude. ‘Very well. That is a promise I will hold you to as long as you live.’
Bernadotte nodded gravely. ‘And it is one that I shall honour above all else, for ever.’
Chapter 24
Warsaw, January 1807
Napoleon pulled the thick fur robe more closely about his shoulders as he stared into the fireplace. A servant had built the fire up before retiring and leaving him alone in the study.That had been over an hour ago, and the split logs had long since burned through. The charred timber was gilded with bright orange specks that pulsed slowly amid the slender fingers of flame flickering up from the heart of the fire. Outside, the wind moaned round the castle as the blizzard that had begun at dawn continued into the dusk, blanketing the city in a thick mantle of white snow. Winter gripped the land and across Poland the men of the Grand Army huddled in their billets and only ventured abroad to search for food and firewood, or when required for patrol and sentry duties.
As the previous year had come to an end the Emperor had finally sent his army into winter quarters, before exhaustion and a sharp decline in morale caused it to fall apart. Despite the victories at Jena and Auerstadt and the subsequent pursuit of the remnants of the Prussian army until its almost complete destruction, the Prussians had not surrendered. Even as Marshal Davout had led his corps in triumph through the streets of Berlin the Prussian King, Frederick William, had fled east to join his Russian allies and continue the war against France. All that was left of his army was one rag-tag column scraped together from the survivors, barely a match for a single corps of the Grand Army. Yet, Napoleon knew, the Russians were massing formidable numbers of men to confront the French army once the worst of the winter had passed. Or so he had thought until the first reports of Russian movements had reached imperial headquarters. It seemed that the Russian soldiers were injured to the effects of winter and were already advancing towards the French outposts.
Napoleon idly stroked his chin as he considered the situation. Berthier had updated his notebooks the previous night, and examining them the following morning Napoleon had been shocked to learn how his army had been ravaged by the onset of winter. Almost half of the men were absent from their units as they ranged across the frozen countryside stealing food and looting whatever valuables they discovered in the villages and estates surrounding Warsaw. Discipline was breaking down and already there had been reports of men killing officers and sergeants who had attempted to hold them back from committing the worst excesses.
Napoleon had been shocked by the backwardness of Poland compared to the rest of Europe. There were few good roads, and those that existed became impassable the moment the autumn rains turned their surfaces into a glutinous mire that sucked down the wheels of wagons and cannon and made an effort of every step taken by men and horses. Such conditions meant it was impossible to bring supplies forward and Napoleon had been forced to call a halt to operations. It had been his intention to wait until spring came to continue his advance against the Russians, but it looked as if his hand would be forced if the Russians decided to attack while Poland was still in the grip of winter.
Life was not hard for all the men of the Grand Army. Those at imperial headquarters, and the men of the Imperial Guard quartered in Warsaw, were comfortable enough, and had plenty of diversions to entertain them through the winter. For many years the Poles had suffered at the hands of their Russian, Austrian and Prussian neighbours and they had greeted the French as liberators. Napoleon had been pleased to play such a role and had made every effort to befriend them and offer promises of independence once the Russians had been driven out of Polish territory. Thousands of Poles had already volunteered to serve with the French and Napoleon needed the reinforcements. But if his men continued to plunder the countryside the Grand Army would not be welcome for much longer. While the soldiers could march swiftly when they lived off the land it did mean that they tended to operate like a plague of locusts, leaving discontent and hunger in their wake. Napoleon frowned as he considered the matter. If he attempted to supply his men on the march, it could only be achieved by advancing more slowly, and operating with smaller armies with which it would be impossible to overwhelm the nations that opposed him.
In any case, however an army was supplied, it could not hope to march far and fight in the depths of such a winter. Napoleon leaned forward in his chair, closer to the fire, and stretched his hands out to warm them. For a moment he cursed his enforced stay in Warsaw. But only for a moment as his thoughts turned to the young countess, Marie Walewska, who had arrived in Warsaw a few days earlier. Her breathtaking beauty had instantly captured the attention of the French officers at headquarters, and Napoleon had felt his heart quicken when she was introduced to him at a ball given in his honour. They had talked briefly, then he had invited her to join him for a late supper after the ball, and before midnight had struck they were in each other’s arms beneath several blankets in the Emperor’s bed. She was as good a lover as he had ever known and he felt his lust return as he recalled the smoothness of her skin, the gentle curves of her limbs and the smooth fullness of her breasts. He resolved to send for her again that very night.
There was a knock on the door and with a hiss of frustration he thrust Marie from his mind and turned away from the fire.
‘Yes? What is it?’
The door clicked open as a young staff officer stepped into the room and bowed neatly. ‘Sire, a deputation from the senate in Paris has arrived.’
‘A deputation? What on earth are they doing here?’
‘They requested an audience with you, sire.’
‘Now?’ Napoleon frowned. ‘No. Let them rest for the night. They must have had an arduous journey. Let them rest.’
The officer hesitated a moment before he continued,‘Sire, they were insistent on seeing you tonight.They are led by your brother Lucien.’
At the mention of his brother Napoleon was tempted to change his mind. Lucien would not have made such a trip without good cause, but Napoleon was too weary to contemplate any business of state that evening. Besides, the prospect of another evening making love to Marie Walewska was more than enough reason to defer meeting Lucien and his senatorial companions until morning. Napoleon cleared his throat.
‘Welcome them to headquarters in my name. Feed them and find them the finest quarters available. Find out why they are here and report on that to me by tomorrow morning. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sire.’
‘Good.Then tell my cook to prepare a light supper, with champagne, and send an invitation to Countess Walewska to join me at ten o’clock. Before then I shall want a hot bath. Now go.’
‘Yes, sire.’ The officer bowed his head and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.The room was quiet again, and the only sounds were the muffled moan of the wind, the occasional hiss and crackle from the fire and the distant sounds of voices of the younger staff officers at a drunken party somewhere in the castle. Napoleon eased himself back into the chair with a faint smile as he contemplated the evening that lay ahead.