Roger groaned. ‘What a shocking tale of mismanagement and perfidy.’
‘It is not yet done.’ Mr. Pitt pushed aside his plate with an angry gesture. ‘The attack in the isthmus was made on July the 16th. That morning the transports bringing fifteen hundred veteran émigrés from Germany, under the young Comte de Sombreuil, arrived in Quiberon Bay. From fear that de Sombreuil might deprive him of sole credit for a victory d’Hervilly insisted on attacking before there had been time to disembark these reinforcements. His volunteers were routed, and the pursuit of them by Hoche’s cavalry was checked only by the heavy fire brought to bear by Sir John Warren’s gunboats.
‘On being informed of the Royalist dispositions de Sombreuil pressed to be allowed to take over the fortress, which was the key to the whole position, and substitute for its garrison some of his seasoned troops; but d’Hervilly would not hear of it. His refusal led to his own defeat and that of everyone else concerned.
‘Some of the men of the original garrison who had pretended to have monarchist sympathies went secretly to General Hoche, and suggested to him a plan by which the fortress could be retaken. On the night of July the 20th, under cover of a storm, that by ill-fortune had forced Sir John Warren’s ships to withdraw from the rocky coast to the safety of the open sea, these traitors led Hoche’s men along the beach past sentries, who were also in the plot, to the fortress. There, aided by other traitors within, they were hauled up over the battlements, and in the dawn took by surprise those of the garrison who had remained loyal.
‘Simultaneously Hoche, no longer having to fear a bombardment from the British fleet, launched a resolute attack upon the Royalist positions. The fortress fell, and its guns were turned upon d’Hervilly’s men. He, and his regiments of volunteers, the Chouans, and with them hundreds of women and children, were driven back into the sea. De Sombreuil and his veterans threw themselves into a smaller fort, but instead of having the sense to hang on there until our ships could rescue them, they surrendered. As a result of this débâcle the Republicans took over six thousand prisoners, near seven hundred of them being émigrés, to whom they later gave a mockery of a court-martial and then shot.’
Roger nodded. This ghastly business puts then a final end to any hope of embodying the Vendéeans in a future army of liberation.’
The Prime Minister selected a peach and began to peel it. ‘Not quite; but as nearly as in my opinion makes little difference. It had been agreed that the British troops under my Lord Moira should follow de Puisaye to Quiberon, and that with them should go the Comte d’Artois. At the news that His Royal Highness meant to assume command of the expedition in person, Charette suddenly emerged from his fit of sulks and declared that the presence of a Prince of Blood was all that was needed to ensure a victorious campaign by his partisans. Accordingly, we had d’Artois and his feckless, venal household conveyed to the Isle of Yeu, which lies some distance off the coast of Brittany. But there he sits, and I am convinced has not the courage to join Charette in the new revolt that temperamental but gallant man is now leading.’
‘I trust, Sir,’ said Roger with an uneasy glance, ‘that you have no thought of despatching me to His Highness, with the idea that I might induce him to put himself at the head of the Royalist forces, then act as adviser to him?’
‘Good gracious, no!’ Mr. Pitt gave a pale smile. ‘I set a better value on your talents than to ask you to waste them in an employment like to prove so unprofitable. Yet it was, in part, this Quiberon disaster which caused me to send for you.’
‘How so, Sir?’
‘For once I acted on an impulse. It was on July the 22nd, which may be accounted the blackest day that Britain has known for many a year. That morning the Spanish Ambassador had informed my Lord Grenville that his country found herself so hard pressed that she was compelled to withdraw from the Alliance. Then in the evening there arrived the news that the Quiberon expedition, the spearhead of the invasion on, which we had pinned such hopes, had been completely annihilated. That night I wrote the order for your recall.’
Roger’s forehead creased in a puzzled frown, and he murmured: ‘I still do not see…’
‘It is quite simple, Mr. Brook. The appreciation which you gave me when we last met of future political trends in France has, God be thanked, proved wrong. But your pessimistic views about the war showed an uncanny foresight and have proved terribly correct. I make no promise to follow your advice; but I desire you to tell me what, were you in my place, you would do now?’
‘Really, Sir!’ Roger’s face showed his astonishment. ‘You rate my abilities far higher than they merit. Besides, how can I even venture an opinion, when I have been out of touch with events in Europe for so long?’
‘You know the broad picture, and that is sufficient for our purpose. During the past eight months the Grand Alliance has fallen in pieces about our ears. In February Tuscany caved in and the Netherlands’ army collapsed. In April we lost Prussia, till then our most potent ally, together with Westphalia and Saxony. In May the Dutch went over to our enemies. In July the Spaniards too betrayed us, and since then Hesse-Cassel, Switzerland and Denmark have all sued for peace. It is true that Catherine of Russia has now made a pact with the Emperor and promised to send him some support; but she is old, ill and has little to gain, so I doubt if she will despatch more than a token force; and in the meantime our Austrian allies are near played out. Everywhere the armies of the French Republic are victorious, and with the destruction of the Quiberon expedition there disappeared our last hope of striking a blow at its heart.’
Roger considered for a moment, then he said slowly: ‘There seems nought for it, then, but to initiate measures which, while safeguarding the interests of such allies as are left to us, might bring us an honourable peace.’
Mr. Pitt raised an eyebrow. ‘Knowing your hatred of the Revolutionaries, Mr. Brook, I had never thought to hear you advocate such a policy.’
With a shrug, Roger replied: ‘As long as I live, Sir, I shall feel a loathing for the men who must still make up the bulk of the Convention. But it would be wrong to allow one’s sentiments to influence one’s judgment on such an issue. If there is no longer any hope of our emerging victorious from the war, its continuance can result only in a profitless draining away of our country’s resources. Therefore, the sooner we can negotiate a reasonably satisfactory peace, the better—and it would be better still if some formula could be found to bring about at the same time a general pacification of Europe.’
‘Well said, Mr. Brook; well said!’ The Prime Minister smiled. ‘Although I challenged you, I am entirely at one with you in this. As you must know, I have always regarded war as senseless, barbarous, and the worst scourge that can afflict the people of any nation. Although under great pressure, I succeeded in restraining our country from entering the present conflict until the French declared war upon us; and, just as our cause is, I would give much to put an end to it, providing that can be done with honour. The problem is, how can we set the stage for an accommodation which I believe would now be as welcome to the war-weary French nation as to our own?’
‘You tell me, Sir, that I proved wrong in my prediction that the terrorists in Paris would continue to cut one another’s throats, and that the survivors would preserve in their policies of greed, ruthless repression and determination to spread their nefarious doctrines by force of arms. I still find it hard to believe that they have acted otherwise. May I ask your grounds for believing that these leopards have changed their spots?’
‘They are numerous, and I think sound. During the months following Robespierre’s fall many laws restricting the liberty of the subject were repealed, and the public journals were again given a substantial degree of freedom. Last November that hotbed of iniquity, the Jacobin Club, was closed. In December the seventy-three deputies whom the Terrorists had expelled from the Chamber were welcomed back to it, thus greatly strengthening the hands of the Moderates. In March their return was followed by that of
such of the Girondins as survived the Terror, either in prison or as hunted outlaws. This spring, too, the sansculottes, furious at the turn things were taking, twice endeavoured to overthrow the Government, but on each occasion both the National Guard and regular troops sided with it; so these revolts were swiftly crushed. By summer a degree of religious toleration had been granted, and in almost every village the Mass was again being celebrated. Lastly, since June, the French journals have carried many reports of minor Terrorists being lynched by the people they once persecuted. Is that enough for you?’
Roger smiled. ‘All of it is most excellent news; but I pray you tell me this. Do the names of Biliand-Varennes, Collot d’Herbois, Fouché, Tallien, Fréron, David, Amer, Rewbell, Merlin of Douai, Bourdon of the Oise, Cambon and the Abbé Sieyès, still appear as those of active deputies in the reports furnished you of proceedings in the Chamber; and does the real power still lie in the hands of the Committee of Public Safety?’
The first two you mention are among a group of Jacobins sentenced to transportation after the revolt last May; but, as far as my memory serves me, most of the others are still leading figures; and although the powers of the Committee have been much curtailed, it remains the executive body through which the nation is governed.’
‘Then, Sir, I must confess that I am a man who “convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.” Yet it seems that pressure of public opinion has forced these monsters to disguise their true feelings for the time being; so advantage might be “taken of that while it lasts. What is to prevent you from putting out peace feelers to them through diplomatic channels in some neutral country?’
‘Should we do so and they met with a rebuff, we would have only encouraged our enemies by disclosing signs of weakness; and my agents in Paris inform me that there is little hope of such overtures being received favourably.’
‘That, Sir, as you may recall, was my own opinion; but you maintain that during the past year matters have changed. It can hardly be doubted that after all the French people have suffered during the last six years they must crave beyond all things a cessation of strife. Indeed, it is computed that not less than a million of them have died in massacres, purges, revolts and the Vendéean wars; universal conscription has brought ruin to their industries and agriculture; they have lived on the verge of starvation since ‘93 and the war continues to put an appalling strain upon their man-power. Therefore, admitting your contention that since the fall of Robespierre sheer weight of public opinion has forced his successors to give the people a much greater degree of freedom, surely that same weight of opinion might result in compelling them to give favourable consideration to overtures for peace?’
Mr. Pitt shook his head. ‘It is not as simple as that. Peace would inevitably lead to a further relaxation of the stranglehold that they still exercise on the nation. Such has been the change of sentiment in France recently that fresh elections would result in the return of a Chamber overwhelmingly in favour of the restoration of the Monarchy.’
‘The reaction of which you speak was sooner or later inevitable; but I am a little surprised to learn that you think such a volte-face already assured of the support of the ‘masses.’
‘I am certain of it. They have come to look back on the ancien régime as an era of peace and prosperity. Of course, they would not agree to the re-establishment of an aristocracy; but nine-tenths of them would favour a Limited Monarchy based on the Constitution granted by Louis XVI in ’91. The Girondins, and other excluded deputies who have returned to the Convention, still exercise caution in their pronouncements, but I have reliable information that the majority of them are only waiting their chance to bring about a Restoration.’
‘The old gang would never agree to that.’
‘Exactly. And as long as the war continues they have a reasonable excuse for keeping the Rump Parliament, that they still dominate, in being. With peace they would be forced to go to the country. They would lose their seats and a Restoration would follow. Near all of them voted for the late King’s death; so, apart from all else, on the count of regicide they would be liable to lose their heads.’
‘Then, as I have always maintained, there can be little hope of peace until the hard core of the old Convention is, in some way, deprived of its power.’
‘That is the situation; but could it be done I believe our chances of bringing the conflict to an end are excellent.’
Roger remained thoughtful for a moment, then he said: ‘It seems then, what we need is another General Monk, who will turn his army about, march it on Paris, and declare for the King.’
A slow smile lit the Prime Minister’s lined face. ‘I am glad to find, Mr. Brook, that your sojourn in the Indies has not deprived you of your resource. It makes me all the more happy to be able to tell you that we have already anticipated you in this admirable solution to our difficulties. We have bought General Pichegru.’
‘The devil you have!’
‘Yes, I am given to understand that he is not only a fine soldier but a patriot and honest man, who feels great distress at the sad state into which his country has fallen. As the reward for marching his army on Paris, he has been promised the baton of a Marshal of France, the Government of Alsace, a million francs in cash, an income of 200,000 louis, an hôtel in Paris and the Chateau of Chambord.’
‘Honest he may be!’ Roger laughed. ‘But for a half of that I’d march an army to Cathay.’
Mr. Pitt waved the remark aside. ‘In an issue of such importance what matter the size of the reward—providing he does what is required of him? The trouble at the moment is that he makes no move to earn it.’
‘He might do so, yet to actually secure all these fine things he would still have nought to rely on save the word of the Bourbon Princes. It may be that he hesitates to trust them.’
‘That has not occurred to me, although it may in part explain why he is holding back. The reason, according to the agent handling these negotiations, is that he feels misgivings about the reception he will meet with when he reaches Paris. Apparently he is loath to set out on the venture until fully convinced that by overthrowing the present French government he will be carrying out the wishes of a majority of the French people.’
‘His information on the state of things in France should be as good as your own. Are not the sort of things you have been telling me enough for him?’
‘One would have thought they should be. But, remember, until quite recently, he has been a staunch Republican. For such the “will of the people” is no more than a catch phrase. I think what he really requires before committing himself is a definite assurance that a majority of the more moderate deputies, intellectuals and others out of the common rut, like himself, have also experienced a change of heart, and now favour a Restoration. In short, he will act only if we can provide him with reliable evidence that the type of people he respects will not regard him as a traitor.’
Roger’s expression did not change by the flicker of an eyelid but as though a thick curtain had suddenly been reft aside he saw how the Prime Minister had ensnared him. With a skill which, now Roger realised it, he could not help but admire, Mr. Pitt had led the conversation by gradual stages up to its present point. He assumed, and probably rightly, that Roger was the only man in the world who could get for him evidence that such men as Barras, Carnot and Dubois-Crancé were willing to commit themselves. To have asked Roger straight out to return to Paris would have been to risk a flat refusal. Instead his advice had been asked, with the foregone conclusion that he would advocate the only sensible course. Then he had been shown how the course he advocated could not be pursued unless certain undertakings were secured in order to set General Pichegru’s mind at rest. Into his racing speculations there broke the quiet voice of the tall, grey-faced man on the opposite side of the little table.
‘A penny for your thoughts, Mr. Brook?’
‘They were, Sir, that, unless I am much mistaken, you have played me a scurvy trick by present
ing matters in such a way that I could be taken for a coward did I ignore their implication.’
‘Nay; do not say that. No man who knows you would ever impugn your courage. But in view of your attitude when last we met I felt justified in acquainting you very fully with the great issues at stake before once more asking you to undertake a mission to Paris.’
‘Ah, there’s the rub!’ Roger made a grimace. ‘Were it to any other capital I would willingly accept your instructions. But these new developments in the political scene of Paris have made it no less dangerous for me. On the contrary, it is now probably even more so. Fourteen months ago I had already enough to dread from Fouché, knowing me to be English and your agent, and probably having had me listed for immediate arrest should I show my face there again. That risk I still run. Now, added to it, since many Royalists have been liberated from the prisons, I might at any time run into some gentleman who would recognise me as the Chevalier de Breuc, once honoured with the friendship of Queen Marie Antoinette; and believing that I had betrayed her cause, seek to bring about my ruin.’
Mr. Pitt nodded. ‘It may be true that during the past year conditions in Paris have not changed to your advantage. But you have changed. When you refused to serve me further you were sick in mind and body. Today I rejoice to find that is no longer so. Surely, now that you are fully restored, you will not refuse my plea once more to encounter danger, when by doing so you may be able to render a great service to your country?’
For a moment Roger did not reply, then he said: ‘I wonder whether what you ask is really necessary. It may not be. I mean, of course, for me to go to Paris. The kernel of this problem seems to be General Pichegru’s attitude. Ought we not, as a first step, to obtain more definite information on the cause of his hesitation? Distrust of the Bourbon Princes may well be at the bottom of it. In any case, I feel we should get from him the exact conditions on which he is prepared to act, before proceeding further. To do otherwise would be to put the cart before the horse.’
The Dark Secret of Josephine Page 32
