The Generals

‘That is your opinion.’

‘It is the opinion of every rational man in Europe!’

Before Whitworth could respond to the sudden flaring up of Napoleon’s temper Talleyrand interrupted. ‘The First Consul is right, my lord.There is no worth in your government’s position, and everyone knows it.Yet I can understand your attachment to Malta. It holds a certain strategic importance to the Royal Navy, and as the new Grand Master happens to be Tsar Alexander, you are understandably nervous about providing Russia with access to the Mediterranean, especially given her interest in the disintegration of the Turkish empire.’ Talleyrand paused, and then smiled. ‘Is that a fair approximation of your government’s concerns?’

Whitworth gave a slight nod of assent. ‘I will agree that it is, for the sake of argument.’

‘Then, for the sake of argument, will you not also accept that the possible benefits of continued occupation would be as nothing compared to the vast cost in lives and wealth - should your failure to honour the treaty provoke a renewal of hostilities?’

‘Are you threatening England, sir?’ Whitworth’s tone was angry. ‘Do you desire war?’

‘No, my lord. Do you?’

‘Of course not.’

Napoleon stabbed a finger at him. ‘Then give up Malta.’

Whitworth shook his head. ‘England will not agree to that. Not yet at least.’

‘If not now, when?’

There was a brief pause before Whitworth replied, ‘Not for seven years.’

‘Seven years?’ Napoleon’s eyes widened in surprise and anger. ‘Seven years! You are joking, my lord. Surely?’

‘I assure you I am not, sir.’

‘This is an outrage!’ Napoleon clenched his hands into fists and leaned forward in his chair so suddenly that Talleyrand feared he might strike the ambassador. He rose to his feet and stepped between them.

‘Gentlemen, for pity’s sake, lower your voices.’ He gestured towards the lawn where some of the guests had turned to look towards the arbour following Napoleon’s outburst. Talleyrand continued, ‘We must subordinate our tempers to reason.The fate of Europe depends upon it.’

Napoleon glared at him for a moment, then, lips pressed together in a thin line, he forced himself to sit back and loosen his fists. Talleyrand waited a little longer, until calm seemed to prevail, then turned back to the ambassador.

‘My lord, it seems to me that Malta is not the real issue of substance here. Perhaps your country feels that France poses some kind of threat to the interests of England. If you might try to explain your grievances in more detail then we might yet progress to a better understanding.’

Whitworth considered the idea and nodded. ‘Very well, sir. But be aware that, even though I know the mind of my political masters, I do not speak for them. What passes between us here is no more than an informal exchange of views. Agreed?’

Talleyrand turned to Napoleon with a questioning look.‘That is agreeable, citizen?’

Napoleon nodded, still frowning at the ambassador. ‘Go on.’

Whitworth cleared his throat and began. ‘Despite the treaty, England is concerned that France is not resolved to make peace. We need to trade with Europe, yet we find that the First Consul seems determined to place every obstacle he can in the way of English commerce with the Continent. Then there is our concern over the territorial ambitions of France. In recent months you have a

‘I understand that well enough.’ Talleyrand nodded. ‘But I assure you, France relishes the current peace, and is merely settling outstanding affairs in order that she can enjoy the benefits of the growing harmony between the interests of our nations.’

‘What harmony?’ Whitworth shook his head. ‘Whatever harmony remains is withering, not growing.’

‘Then it is urgent that we do all we can, as swiftly as possible, to repair the situation. So tell us, what would His Majesty’s government ask of France in order to ease the tension between us?’

Napoleon watched Whitworth carefully as the Englishman collected his thoughts and responded. ‘Open the ports of Europe to our ships and our merchants. Settle your revolt in San Domingo and bring your army home. And return those lands you have a

‘He asks for the moon!’ Napoleon protested to Talleyrand, then rounded on the ambassador. ‘And if we gave in to those demands, would you return the favour? Would you abandon Malta? Would you stop sheltering the émigrés who spill their bile into the foul pamphlets that appear on our streets? Oh, don’t think I don’t know who is funding their lies.The same source of money that buys arms for the Vendée rebels, and no doubt provided the means for those bastards who tried to assassinate me. You shelter them in the Cha

‘A free nation?’ Whitworth smiled mockingly. ‘A free nation, under Bonaparte. What exactly is the difference between an absolute monarch and a First Consul for life?’

‘The difference is that I was elected by the people.’ Napoleon raised his chin. ‘I embody their will.’

‘Really? And who is to say that His Majesty does not embody the will of our people?’

‘Then why don’t you ask them?’ Napoleon smiled coldly. ‘Why don’t you ask your people? Unless you are afraid of what they might say.’

Whitworth stared at him in silence for a moment before replying. ‘The common people are not in possession of the knowledge or the will to act in their own interest. Until they are, their social superiors will determine their best interests, and those of England as a whole.’

Napoleon shook his head. These aristos were all alike, from one side of Europe to the other. Arrogant, greedy and desperate to hang on to the power handed to them by their ancestors.They would fight to the last breath rather than permit a man like Napoleon, with all his natural advantages of intellect and ambition, to remake their archaic nations into more efficient and fair societies.

Talleyrand looked from one to the other with a growing sense of despair. There was no shred of reconciliation between them, and his heart felt heavy at the inevitable fate awaiting the peoples of France and England. There was nothing more he could do to try to bridge the gap this day. He would have to wait until the immediate tension had bled out, and then try again.

He stood up. ‘Gentlemen, we have spoken enough.The other guests will fear there is something amiss unless we return to the party. For their sakes, I beg you, we must behave with cordial affection, while peace still has a chance.’

He gestured towards the distant gathering of guests, clustered around Josephine on the lawn. Napoleon bowed his head curtly towards the ambassador and left the arbour, striding back across the neatly cut grass. Whitworth stared after him, and muttered, ‘I rather fear that man may prove to be as much your problem as he is ours.’