Young bloods

The debacle in Ajaccio might well cost him his career in the army. It might even cost him his life, and Napoleon wondered if he should have run off and hidden in the Corsican maquis as his mother had advised. He could easily have survived for years living up in the mountains far beyond the reach of the law. But his every instinct revolted against the idea. Here in Paris, far from the scene of the crime, his word could be just as effective as that of those who sought his prosecution.

When he had arrived in Marseilles, Napoleon had received notification that it might be some months before his case was dealt with, thanks to the outbreak of war. That gave him a little time to try to exert some influence over the outcome. And the best place to start would be to petition the foremost deputy from Corsica, Antoine Saliceti. According to the posters on the street corners, Saliceti was to speak in favour of a proposal to disband the King's household guards the next day.

Accordingly, the morning after his arrival, Napoleon woke early and polished his boots. He combed out his hair and tied it back neatly before putting on his uniform.

A short walk down the street brought Napoleon to the wide thoroughfare of the Rue Saint-Honore where he joined the crowd that was heading towards the Tuileries to watch the debates of the National Assembly. Some of them had come to petition the deputies, others simply wished to be part of the mob outside the palace where the King and his family were virtually being held prisoners. Still more were taking fruit, wine and newspapers to sell to the crowd. Among the last group were traders selling revolutionary cockades, patriotic red bo

As he turned the corner and strode down the Terrasse des Feuillants, Napoleon was confronted by a large crowd at the entrance to the National Assembly. Scores of men from the National Guard formed a cordon and cleared a path for deputies and their officials as they made their way in for the morning session. A small side entrance provided access to the public galleries, and Napoleon shoved through the crowd towards the sergeant in charge of admission.

'Excuse me!' Napoleon pushed past a heavily made-up woman who was screeching at the top of her voice that she had been promised a seat by one of her clients amongst the deputies.

The sergeant shook his head. 'Sorry, lady, I don't care who you're screwing. All the free seats have gone. Now unless you have a pass there's nothing I can do.'

'Pass? I don't need a pass, you moron.' She prodded him in the chest with the tip of her parasol. 'Let me through!'

The sergeant batted the parasol aside and lunged at her with both hands.The woman fell back into the crowd with a shriek of panic and rage while everyone around her burst into laughter. Napoleon took advantage of the moment and thrust himself in front of the sergeant.

'Excuse me, I need to get by.'

'Not so fast, citizen!'The sergeant held up a hand and stared at Napoleon. 'Your pass?'

For a moment Napoleon frowned, and was sorely tempted to give the sergeant a stern dressing-down for his insubordinate ma

'You don't get in then, citizen.'

'I need to see Citizen Saliceti, Sergeant. I'm here to support him.'

'Saliceti, eh?'The sergeant lowered his voice.'Are you from the Jacobin Club?' Napoleon nodded.

'Then where's your cockade? Where's your red bo

'Trust me, I'm Jacobin to the core.'

The sergeant narrowed his eyes fractionally and stared hard at Napoleon. Then he relented and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. 'All right, citizen.You can go in.'

Napoleon nodded his thanks and squeezed past. Once he was inside he made his way up to the banks of seating that overlooked the debating floor. Most of the benches were already filled, and supporters of the various factions clustered together, ready to cheer on their deputies when the time came. Napoleon eventually found a seat close to the balcony and he leaned forward to observe the deputies taking up their places below. Halfway along the length of the building the president and his officials were clustered around the Speaker's rostrum, preparing themselves for the day's business.

It was easy to identify most of the various factions as they sat on the ranks of seats lining the wide concourse ru

Once a few items of housekeeping had been dealt with the president a

'Royalists!' someone spat close by Napoleon. 'The scum should be wiped out!'

'Patience,' said another. 'Their time's coming.'

As soon as Saliceti had finished speaking Napoleon made his way to the deputies' entrance to the debating chamber. Scores of men and women were waiting for the chance to present petitions to their representatives and Napoleon forced his way to the front. More cries of protest and bursts of angry shouting came from the debating chamber, increasing in frequency until it sounded as if a riot was breaking out inside. Almost lost in the cacophony were the president's calls for order, silence and for members to return to their seats. Eventually, he had to suspend the session.The doors swung open and the deputies came streaming out. Napoleon nudged the man standing next to him.

'Does this happen often?'

'All the time,' the man grumbled. 'It's a wonder any decisions are made at all.'

Napoleon snorted with derision and then kept his eyes fixed on the doorway, watching intently until at last Saliceti came out, thronged by members from his party who were loudly congratulating him on his performance. All except one: a sour-faced man in powdered wig. Napoleon recognised the face at once and placed him in an instant: the man from the secret meeting above the bookshop, two years earlier. Citizen Schiller, he had named himself. Napoleon turned again to the man standing next to him.