NAPOLEON
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
[
previous
| bottom
]
11 EXT. BRIENNE ACADEMY <1779> DAY
In the bleak midwinter, Napoleone (9) and Josephe (10) stand
outside the austere gates of the Brienne Military Academy a
former monastery, now a training school for young army
cadets, run by Franciscan monks. Napoleone is dressed as a
young military cadet in a smart blue uniform and bicorn hat
a miniature version of his adult image. Joseph and their
father Carlo are in civilian clothes. A coach is waiting.
Napoleone turns to his brother, his teeth tightly clenched.
"Coraggio." Joseph's grip is less resolute... "Caio
Nabulio"... and the tears cascade down his cheeks. The sight
is more than Napoleone can bear he turns sharply away in
order to retain a grip on his emotions. They embrace, kissing
on the lips. Napoleone tweaks his brother's ear with a brave
grin...
... then, with a final wave, the carriage speeds away, Joseph
waving from the window. Napoleone stands alone, then slowly
turns to confront the hostile young faces staring at him
through the iron bars of the school gates.
12 EXT. JAMESTOWN HARBOUR - ST HELENA <1815> - DUSK
Three months later. The British warship "Northumberland" is
anchored in the small harbour at Jamestown - no more than a
string of houses either side of a street, tucked inside a
deep chasm at the foot of the island volcano.
A small reception committee is gathered on the quayside,
headed by the island's Governor, several officials, and a
platoon of British redcoats holding back the crowd of curious
islanders. More soldiers are being disembarked from three
warships anchored in the harbour beyond.
A long-boat is rowed ashore, and the Islanders crane forward
for a better view. Among them is BETSY Balcombe, a tom-
boyish girl of 14, peering into the gathering dusk with a
look of trepidation, clinging to her mother's arm.
The longboat reaches the quay. Admiral COCKBURN is first
ashore, followed by his large Newfoundland dog and several
officers. Betsy peers ahead. Then the familiar bicorn hat
appears, followed by Napoleon himself as he climbs the steep
stone steps up to the quay. His image is the most famous in
the world, and his presence prompts an audible gasp from the
islanders. Even the British snap to attention and salute,
until corrected by their Sergeant. Napoleon pauses a moment,
surveying the sea of awestruck faces with an ironic half
smile, well aware of the spell he exerts.
The affable Admiral Cockburn introduces Napoleon to the
Island's British Governor, Colonel Mark Wilks.
GOVERNOR WILKS
Welcome to Saint Helena, General
Bonaparte.
Napoleon bristles at the reference to "General Bonaparte",
but manages to smile. Betsy strains for a better view... but
Napoleon is already on his way, followed by Bertrand his
unhappy suite of French companions.
13 EXT. HOTEL - JAMESTOWN - ST HELENA - <1815> - DUSK
Admiral Cockburn shows Napoleon into a rather plain bedroom
where his two servants - Louis MARCHAND (24) and ALI (22) -
assemble an iron camp-bed beside the hotel's four-poster.
Both are French, but Ali is dressed as an Egyptian Mameluke,
with turban and baggy trousers.
COCKBURN
Tomorrow we shall ride up to
Longwood House and inspect your
permanent residence. What time do
you generally arise when ashore,
sir?
NAPOLEON
Same as at sea, Admiral. Five
o'clock.
COCKBURN
Then... shall we say about eight?
Napoleon nods, then turns away. The camp bed is assembled,
and Ali winds up a large silver alarm-clock while Marchand
closes the shutters against the noisy, jostling crowd in the
street below, trying to peer in.
MARCHAND
Is there anything I can do to make
Your Majesty more comfortable?
NAPOLEON
No, thank you, Marchand.
Napoleon unfastens his portmanteau, takes out seven small
portraits in oval frames and arranges them on the
mantelpiece. They are all of the same small boy: his son.
He gazes at them a moment, then walks over to his camp bed,
lies back and stares up at the ceiling while Marchand takes
up his accustomed position - on a mattress across the door.
14 INT. BRIENNE DORMITORY <1779> NIGHT
A dark, eerie Chapter House at night a dormitory with ten
wooden cells, each with its own locked door. Moonlight spills
in through the arched windows, and an occasional whimper
disturbs the silence.
We find Bonaparte on an iron bed, gazing at a framed oval
painting of his parents, Carlo and Letizia. The spartan cell
has a wash-basin and jug, a small cupboard, and a chair. He
has a corner of his blanket wrapped around his knuckle and
stuffed in his mouth, trying not to cry. From the wisps of
breath that escape, we judge the night to be bitterly cold.
BOY (O/S)
Stop that noise I'm trying to
sleep.
Bonaparte bites his knuckle even harder then abruptly hides
his parents' faces by turning the portrait face down.
15 INT. BRIENNE DORMITORY <1779> DAWN
A monk rings a bell the young cadets scramble out of bed
two servants unlock the doors and the boys start washing.
Napoleone tries to pour his water, but finds it frozen over
with a layer of ice. He turns to the others...
NAPOLEONE
Who put glass in my jug?
BOY #1
Buonaparte's never seen ice before!
More sniggering. A red-haired boy - BOURRIENNE - jeers...
BOY #2
What do you expect? Corsicans are
nothing but ignorant little
savages!
Napoleone takes a flying leap at the ill-prepared Bourrienne,
hurling him to the ground.
MONK
Gentlemen Messieurs please!
A severe Monk FATHER CHARLES enters the mayhem and drags
Napoleone from his victim.
BONAPARTE
He insulted my family!
FATHER
That's no excuse, Buonaparte.
All your undoubted skills will be
wasted if you cannot learn to
control your emotions. Imagine if
you were on the field of battle
someone insults you and you lose
your temper you lash out
"Charge!"... and a thousand men
lose their lives, all because we
failed to teach you the art of self
control.
The Father produces a cane and motions Napoleone to bend
over. The boys lick their lips. He brings it down THWACK!
16 EXT. LONGWOOD PLATEAU ST HELENA <1815> DAY
A beautiful sunny morning, and Napoleon is out riding a
magnificent, jet-black Arab. He is a superb rider, and the
others in the party are hard-pressed to keep up. They include
Admiral Cockburn, Bertrand and Ali - an incongruous figure in
his exotic Egyptian headgear. Two British Soldiers of the
55th Dragoons accompany them, and the Admiral's large
Newfoundland dog (Tom Pipes) completes the party.
They are high up on a windswept plateau, surrounded by jagged
volcanic rocks utterly devoid of vegetation. Glimpsed between
these rocks is the vast ocean beyond.
The riding party reach a rundown bungalow farmhouse,
surrounded by a plantation of withered gum-trees. A platoon
of British soldiers and Chinese slaves toil away under white
supervision, enlarging the building. Napoleon reins in his
horse. The slaves come to attention and salute, mouths agape
at seeing the Emperor in person. A British Soldier acting as
foreman briskly tells them to "Carry on!" Admiral Cockburn
draws up alongside Napoleon.
COCKBURN
I fear it's going to be several
months before Longwood is
habitable. The fact is, the
Governor only had two days notice
of your arrival...
(cheerfully)
... news from Europe takes so long
to reach St Helena, he thought you
were still a prisoner on Elba, and
as for Waterloo.....
On second thoughts, Cockburn breaks off. Napoleon has taken
out his telescope and is already surveying the landscape...
NAPOLEON
I was never a prisoner on Elba,
Admiral. I was the Emperor of
Elba.
He's spotted something a tiny white house in the distance,
tucked amid an oasis of flowers and shrubs.
Before the Admiral can respond, Napoleon cracks his whip and
is off. A look of momentary panic seizes the British party
is he escaping already? Cockburn and the others gallop after
him, Tom Pipes bounding alongside.
17 EXT. BRIARS & DRIVE - ST HELENA - <1815> - DAY
Napoleon rides up a beautiful avenue of Banyan trees, flanked
with pomegranate and myrtle, orange trees and giant lacos. At
the end of the avenue is a circular driveway in front of a
house covered in white roses. More roses fill the flower-beds
either side.
Napoleon rides across to a tall rose bush, gathers a handful
and takes a deep, nostalgic breath...
Cockburn and the soldiers arrive breathless just as the door
opens and an attractive lady - MRS BALCOMBE - appears. She
recognises Napoleon immediately, and is seized with an inner
panic that her English reserve finds hard to control.
Cockburn, Bertrand and the others dismount, but Napoleon
remains in his saddle.
He rides slowly forward until he is standing within a few
feet of Mrs Balcombe, who is now joined by her daughter,
BETSY (14) - the tom-boy we saw on the quayside - and her
sister JANE (16). Betsy hurriedly grasps her mother's arm on
seeing Napoleon. Cockburn rides over and makes the
introductions.
COCKBURN
Mrs Balcombe, permit me to
introduce our new guest General
Bonaparte.
Cockburn's embarrassment at having to refer to Napoleon thus
is all too apparent, but he has little choice.
COCKBURN
Mrs Balcombe's husband is agent and
purveyor to the East India Company.
Napoleon looks down at Mrs Balcombe.
NAPOLEON
Your garden is very beautiful,
Madame... and I have known many
gardens. Your roses remind me of
Malmaison. Indeed you yourself put
me in mind of the Empress
Josephine.
Mrs Balcombe's restraint goes to pieces. Betsy gazes up at
him, her own initial terror beginning to mellow. "He was
deadly pale, yet noble and imposing, and I thought his
features, though cold and immovable and somewhat stern, were
exceedingly beautiful. When he began to speak, his
fascinating smile removed every vestige of fear with which I
had hitherto regarded him."
Napoleon dismounts, Ali promptly taking the reins, and gives
a slight bow to the ladies, who both curtsy. He looks about
him - sees a small pavilion on the far side of the garden.
NAPOLEON
I could be happy here.
MRS BALCOMBE
Our home is at your disposal, sire.
Napoleon turns to Admiral Cockburn.
NAPOLEON
If Mrs Balcombe would not be too
inconvenienced, I could live in
that pavilion...?
COCKBURN
But... what about the rest of your
suite, sir?
There can hardly be space enough
here for all of them...
NAPOLEON
Bertrand!
BERTRAND
Yes, your Majesty?
NAPOLEON
Ride back down to the town and tell
Marchand to bring up my baggage.
I'll be needing Las Cases for
dictation Montholon too -
Gourgaud if he insists - and Dr.
O'Meara. The rest will just have to
make the best of it where they are
until Longwood is ready.
BERTRAND
And... I, your Majesty?
NAPOLEON
Why of course, Grand Marshal. You
and your family are most welcome.
A relieved Bertrand scurries off, leaving Napoleon with
Cockburn.
NAPOLEON
Poor Bertrand. My finest engineer
- he once built me a bridge
across the Danube in under four
hours! Imagine that, Admiral...
four hours!
Napoleon takes a pinch of snuff - watched by Betsy.
18 EXT. BRIARS & GARDEN - ST HELENA - <1815> - DAY
Feverish activity as a platoon of British Soldiers erect a
large marquee in the garden adjoining the pavilion, under
Bertrand's direction. Marchand and Ali supervise the
unloading of the Emperor's trunks from an ox-cart, while Mrs
Balcombe organizes a team of Chinese slaves in the
rearrangement of furniture.
Napoleon sits alone in the distance, humming to himself out
of tune while reading the "Ballads of Ossian". A black slave
TOBY is further off, bedding geraniums. Napoleon is well
aware of Toby's furtive glances, but continues reading.
Presently he hears a rustle in the bushes behind him. Betsy
and her sister are creeping closer when Napoleon suddenly
turns round with a terrifying expression. Jane screams and
bolts, but Betsy is petrified - her legs refuse to work.
Napoleon digs into his pocket...
and takes out a tortoise-shell case, bearing a portrait of a
boy with blonde curls. It contains finely-sliced black
sticks.
NAPOLEON
Liquorice?
BETSY
T-t-thank you, sir.
NAPOLEON
Parlez-vous Franηais?
BETSY
Un petit peu, Monsieur.
NAPOLEON
What is the capital of France?
BETSY
Paris, sir.
Napoleon gets up, stretching his legs. Betsy backs away.
NAPOLEON
Italy?
BETSY
Rome.
NAPOLEON
Russia?
BETSY
St Petersburg nowadays... but
Moscow in former times.
NAPOLEON
Who burned Moscow?
Betsy looks apprehensive. Napoleon turns and fixes her with a
penetrating gaze that leaves her trembling.
NAPOLEON
Who burned Moscow??
BETSY
I... I... I don't know sir...
NAPOLEON
Oh yes you do... you English are
taught well enough that it was I
who burned Moscow!
Even Old Toby cowers. Napoleon laughs...
NAPOLEON
Well, well - isn't that so?!
BETSY
M-m-my father says the Russians
burned down Moscow... to get rid of
you.
Napoleon looks at her in momentary surprise, then smiles.
NAPOLEON
I like your father already.
(breathes in the air)
Ah, what a garden! I have always
loved gardens. When I was at military school, each of us was
given a small garden to look after. The other boys thought it
effeminate to love flowers, so they gave me their gardens and
I turned them into one...
19 EXT. BRIENNE GARDEN <1781> DUSK
Bonaparte lies in his garden sanctuary, made up of six
smaller allotments surrounded by a wicket fence covered in
ivy. He is lying beneath a cherry tree, a pile of books by
his side, reading Rousseau's "The Social Contract".
NAPOLEON (V/O)
... my own private little
empire... where I could read and
think and dream.
Faces peer over the wall Bourrienne gives a signal and
suddenly the fence comes crashing down. Bonaparte is on his
feet instantly, arming himself with a rake and flaying out at
the invading horde of boys. Another section of the fence
gives way, and Bonaparte runs to grab a rope hidden in the
grass, yanks it taut and a catapult unleashes a hail of
pebbles at the intruders. The cadets flee in panic to
Bonaparte's satisfaction, and the ire of the monks who have
witnessed the mayhem.
20 INT. DINING HALL - BRIENNE - <1781> - NIGHT
Bonaparte screams at two astonished MONKS and a room-full of
cadets, about to eat their evening meal.
BONAPARTE
I won't! I won't! I won't! I'll eat
sitting down like every one else!
This provokes a gale of laughter from the Bourrienne and the
other boys. Their scorn drives him livid - the monks try to
grapple him -
MONK
Bonaparte - control yourself sir
and take your punishment like a
man.
BONAPARTE
I will not kneel! In my family we
kneel only before God - isn't that
so, Mamma - isn't that so?!!
A third Monk intervenes and Bonaparte is finally restrained.
He glowers at the other cadets, his whole body trembling...
BONAPARTE
I'll make you aristocrats pay for
this!
21 EXT. GARDEN - BRIARS - ST HELENA - <1815> - DAY
It is early evening on St Helena, and a full moon bathes the
garden in a phantom light. Napoleon is sitting outside on the
verandah, playing cards with Betsy, Montholon, Albine, and
their hosts, Mr and Mrs Balcombe. Gourgaud sits nearby,
reading a book, while the elderly Comte de Las Cases and his
teenage son converse with Bertrand and Fanny. Marchand and
Ali are on hand to serve coffee and port.
The game is Vingt-et-Un, and the idle conversation is
punctuated with "twist", "buy one" etc. Albine is mildly
flirtatious with Napoleon, but never enough to raise her
husband's jealousy (indeed he may even be promoting it).
Montholon is dealing. Napoleon declines he's holding two
cards. The others go bust Napoleon reveals a natural 21 and
wins the jackpot of coins.
BETSY
That's the fifth time you've won!
NAPOLEON
I've always had luck at cards. It
runs in our family. My mother used
to win so often that Paoli said she
had it in her blood.
BETSY
Who's Paoli?
NAPOLEON
(buys a card)
My childhood hero. It was Paoli who
tried to free Corsica from the
French, but gave up and went to
live in England. Imagine, if my
father had followed him into exile,
I'd have been born an Englishman -
what do you say to that O'Meara?
O'MEARA
I'd say more's the pity for
Ireland, sir.
NAPOLEON
If I had invaded England, my first
act would have been to have granted
the Irish people their
independence. It is ridiculous to
hear the English spirit of
toleration praised by so many when
the English government prefers to
keep an army of 60,000 soldiers in
Ireland rather than allow the Irish
people to enjoy their most
legitimate rights.
O'MEARA
Sire, as a servant of the British
government, I cannot speak on such
matters... but were you not eager
to see your own homeland liberated?
NAPOLEON
When I was young there was nothing
I wanted more... but when I saw
that Paoli and his followers
preferred priests to democracy, I
chose to support the new French
Republic.
BETSY
Buy one or twist?
NAPOLEON
Buy one.
He takes out a large coin from his waistcoat a solid gold
40-franc piece known as a "napoleon". Betsy examines it,
comparing the Caesar-like portrait with the man.
BETSY
You look like Nero!
MRS BALCOMBE
Betsy!
Napoleon grins slyly at Betsy.
BETSY
Well I'd say it's a jolly good
thing you weren't born English...
otherwise you'd have cut off our
king's head instead of yours!
NAPOLEON
I sent no king to the guillotine!
As Napoleon continues, Betsy notices his hand creeping onto
his knee and under the table...
LAS CASES
His Majesty took no part in that
dreadful conflagration,
Mam'selle...
BALCOMBE
I fear Betsy's schooling on this
island leaves much to be desired.
Napoleon has won again. Betsy is getting suspicious, and
glances under the table...
NAPOLEON
The horrors of the French
revolution must be painted with the
same brush as the holy Inquisition.
No man could have prevented it, and
neither those who perished nor
those who survived can be blamed.
There was no individual strong
enough to change forces or to
forestall events that were born
from circumstances and the nature
of things.
BALCOMBE
Why not listen, Betsy... you might
learn a thing or two.
NAPOLEON
I am an excellent teacher. I taught
my brother Louis when we were both
penniless in Paris... history,
geography, mathematics...
BETSY
Did you teach him how to cheat too?
BALCOMBE
Betsy! How dare you be so rude!
The French look appalled, and Napoleon turns on Betsy with a
look that turns her to jelly.
BALCOMBE (O/S)
Go to the cellar at once!
Napoleon suddenly growls, making her jump, then laughs.
NAPOLEON
That's right, Balcombe show a
firm hand. Children are no
different than soldiers.
But since Miss Betsy was in fact
telling the truth, let her
punishment be my pleasure.
BETSY
Why you.....
But she checks herself as Napoleon hands back all his
winnings. He's about to give her the gold napoleon when he
tosses it the coin comes down heads and he puts it back
in his pocket with a grin, tweaking her ear.
NAPOLEON
My friends, I thank you for your
kind company and bid you good
night.
All rise, the French chorusing "Good night, Your Majesty"
as does Mrs Balcombe, despite a cautioning look from her
husband.
Napoleon leaves the verandah and moves into the garden. He
embraces the night air, filled with the scent of roses and
jasmine takes a deep breath savours it a moment then
breathes out with a long, slow sigh...
BONAPARTE (V/O)
Always alone in the midst of men, I
abandon myself to my melancholy in
all its sharpness...
22 INT. BONAPARTE'S GARRET - PARIS - <1795> - DAY
Bonaparte (now aged 24) is seated at a desk heaped with books
and maps, writing a letter. He is painfully thin, hair lank,
uniform threadbare, boots muddy and worn. The garret room is
spartan in the extreme: two wooden beds, a second table, a
tiny stove and a couple of chairs. The floor is stacked with
more books, many of them opened at certain pages and stacked
one on top of another. It's a chilly October evening, and the
broken window is stuffed with rags to keep out the cold.
BONAPARTE (V/O)
I warn you, dear Joseph, that if
things don't look up, I shan't step
aside the next time a carriage
nearly knocks me over. I have young
Louis staying with me at present as
Mamma cannot afford to support him
as well as Fifi and our sisters.
Bonaparte's brother LOUIS (15) is seated at the smaller
table, working at geometry which he clearly dislikes. He is
an affectionate, soft-natured boy, good-looking with heavy
eyelids. Bonaparte has drawn examples with chalk on a board.
There is a cheap globe which has been carefully repaired, and
a telescope by the window.
Several serviceable portraits hang on the wall: his mother,
father and the rest of the Bonaparte clan - as well as maps
of Europe and Paris.
As Bonaparte's soulful V/O to his brother Joseph continues,
he folds the letter, gets up, puts on his coat, takes a
saucepan of soup from the oil stove, pours a bowl for Louis
while glancing over the boy's shoulder. He spots a mistake -
Louis moans "I'll never be any good at geometry!"
BONAPARTE (V/O)
I can do no more to help as I have
not received a sou in six months.
Despite my success at Toulon, the
War Office refuses to make use of
my talents and has buried me in the
map department.
Bonaparte ruffles Louis' hair affectionately, then leaves him
to his labours.
23 EXT. STREET & THEATRE - PARIS - <1795> - DUSK
Pouring rain. Bonaparte shelters under the awning of a
theatre, where playbills inform us that the great Talma is
appearing as Julius Caesar. Other bills abound: "People of
France! Restore your Church and your King - only then will
you have bread!" A party of carousing National Guardsmen
lurch across the road to take shelter beside him...
BONAPARTE (V/O)
My existence is a burden because I
see that most of my fellow men have
an outlook on life that is as far
removed from mine as the moon from
the sun...
24 EXT. PARK & SEINE - PARIS - <1795> - DUSK
The rain has eased, and Bonaparte walks along the banks of
the River Seine. The terror has given way to decadence and
poverty: despite the weather, whores lurk at every turn. Jobs
are few, and many are starving.
BONAPARTE (V/O)
Dear Joseph, forgive me for bearing
my soul, but we have lived so many
years together in such close
companionship, that our two hearts
have become one...
As Bonaparte crosses the street, he hears laughter - a bevy
of society beauties are leaving a fashionable salon, wrapping
their near-naked bodies in furs before bundling into a
carriage in a heap of merriment. One of them (ROSE) catches
her shoe in the door - it falls off.
With a warm, infectious laugh she retrieves it from the mud.
The carriage takes off at a brisk gallop, and Bonaparte has
to leap back to avoid being splattered with mud.
25 EXT. RIVER & TUILERIES - <1795> - NIGHT
Bonaparte enters a side street from the park, kicking leaves
and still lost in his own thoughts...
BONAPARTE (V/O)
Goodbye, my dear brother. Life is a
flimsy dream that soon fades...
He gradually becomes aware of shock waves - citizens reacting
to news being rapidly spread by word of mouth - some in
panic, others with euphoria. Shop-keepers hurriedly barricade
their doorways and windows.
Now there are cries of "Long live the King!" "Long live the
Bourbons!" "Long live King Louis XVIII!" answered with "Death
to all kings!" "Long live the Revolution!" Suddenly the
tocsin SOUNDS --
[
top
| previous
| next
]
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.