The Wanton Princess

by Dennis Wheatley

  The next day Roger reported back to Napoleon, who abruptly enquired the reason for Talleyrand’s having requested the loan of him. Not feeling that he could refuse, Roger gave an account of his mission, but he did so with reluctance as he felt sure that Napoleon would instruct Savary to go into the affair, and feared that the heavy-handed Minister of Police might ruin the investigation of the infinitely more skilful Fouché.

  When he had done Napoleon laughed, tweaked Roger’s ear and said, ‘What a man you are, Breuc. You are worth half a dozen of my other beaux sabreurs.’ Then, with a sudden change of mood, he added, ‘Moreau is a fine soldier but a fool politically; and as he hates me it is quite likely that he will be idiot enough to allow himself to be drawn into this conspiracy. As for this Prince who is to play the part of Viceroy until the Comte de Provence can be brought from Mittau, if we catch him I’ll make such an example of him as no other Bourbon will ever forget.’

  During the month that followed Roger saw both Talleyrand and Fouché several times and they kept him informed of the progress of the conspiracy which, as he had expected, was going forward. Cadoudal, it was learned, had again been landed at Biville on January 14th and was believed to be in Paris but could not be traced. On the 24th, by having the Abbé David shadowed, Pichegru was found to have arrived in the capital, and on the evening of the 27th he was seen to meet Moreau, accompanied by General Lajolais, apparently by accident, in the Boulevard de la Madeleine; but after only a few minutes’ conversation they went their respective ways. There followed four lengthy secret conferences for which they met in private houses; so it was now clear that the victor of Hohenlinden had been drawn into the conspiracy. Then, on the 15th February Savary jeopardised all prospect of allowing the affair to ripen until all the conspirators could be caught in the net by arresting Monsieur Querelle.

  In an attempt to save himself Querelle gave away the addresses at which Cadoudal and Pichegru were in hiding. But, taking alarm at Querelle’s arrest, both had swiftly vacated their lodgings. However, on the 29th Pichegru, given away by a treacherous friend, was seized while in bed in his house. Ten days later a series of domiciliary visits to suspects led to the finding of Cadoudal and, after a desperate resistance, he was carried off to prison. There followed the arrest of the Duc de Polignac, the Marquis de Riviére, who had come over with Pichegru, Lajolais and a number of the lesser conspirators.

  Moreau had continued to reside openly at his house outside Paris so could be picked up at any time; but there remained the problem of the unidentified Bourbon Prince. Napoleon was anxious that he, above all, should be caught and, believing him to be the Comte d’Artois, had despatched Savary to Biville to lie in wait for him when he landed. Captain Wright’s vessel was lying off the coast and appropriate messages purporting to come from the conspirators were sent off to her. But either the Prince was not on board or had already had intelligence that things had gone wrong in Paris.

  Meanwhile numerous agents had been keeping a close watch on the other Princes. During Savary’s absence, some of those acting for his opposite number Réal, Fouché’s old lieutenant, had sent in a report that the young Duc d’Enghien was engaged in highly suspicious activities. He had chosen Baden as his place of exile and lived at Ettenheim, not far from the Rhine, and was said in recent months to have made frequent secret trips across it to Strassburg, which was in French territory.

  The failure of d’Artois to appear led at once to the supposition that he was not, after all, the selected nominal head of the conspiracy, and that d’Enghien’s visits to Strassburg were to make preparations for a dash to Paris. As a further indication that he was their man it was reported that he had staying with him at Ettenheim a Colonel Smith, who had just come from London, and General Dumouriez. This last was a particularly damning piece of information, for Dumouriez, before becoming disgusted with the excesses of the Revolution and going over to the English, had been a brilliant and popular General; so he was just the man to rally the troops in north-eastern France to the Monarchist cause.

  Napoleon, assuming that from that quarter he might now expect really serious trouble, flew into one of his great rages, summoned a Privy Council and declared his intention of cutting the ground from beneath the conspirators’ feet by striking first: he would send a raiding force into Baden to seize the Duke.

  Both his fellow Consuls opposed the plan, pointing out that this violation of neutral territory would arouse a shocking outcry among the nations and, possibly, embroil France with both Germany and Russia. But Talleyrand said he was confident that he could appease the Margrave and Fouché, who was also present, expressed the opinion that they ought to take this opportunity of crushing the hopes of the monarchists once and for all. In consequence, as usual, the First Consul got his way.

  After the conference Napoleon sent for General Ordener, told him what was required and ordered him to proceed at once with a small force to the Rhine opposite Ettenheim. Roger happened to be on duty in the anteroom to the Cabinet and was standing just outside the door as Ordener emerged from it. Catching sight of him, Napoleon beckoned him and called to Ordener to come back. Then he said to Roger:

  ‘Breuc, you were among the first to secure for us information about the Royalist conspiracy. As a reward you shall witness the end of it. You may go with Ordener on the mission I have just given him. He will tell you about it.’

  Much intrigued and having thanked his master, Roger left the Palace with the General, was told what was afoot, and arranged to set out from Paris with him that afternoon. Shortly before midday on March 14th they reached Strassburg and held a conference with Réal’s agents, who knew the exact location of d’Enghien’s house and would accompany them on their kidnapping expedition. After having dined they slept for some hours then, at ten o’clock in the evening, started on their twenty-mile ride along the left bank of the Rhine.

  On arriving at the village of Rhinau they rested their horses and ate a snack they had brought with them. At about two in the morning, they were put across the river in relays by the village ferry. They had only a further seven miles to go and found Ettenheim dark and deserted. The agents led them to the small château in which d’Enghien resided. Ordener had his troopers surround it, then ordered two of his N.C.O.s to break in the door.

  The noise they made roused the household and when Ordener and Roger went inside they were met by the young Duke, partially dressed, coming downstairs with a drawn sword in his hand. The General told him that he had orders from the First Consul to arrest him for having as an exile made illegal entries into French territory.

  D’Enghien now broke into violent protests and claimed immunity from arrest by virtue of his being on foreign soil. Ordener refused to listen, upon which the Duke put himself on guard and declared his intention of defending himself. But by this time there were half a dozen troopers standing in the hall and the shocked friends with whom d’Enghien was living persuaded him that resistance was useless.

  While, under supervision, he dressed and packed a small valise, Réal’s agents searched the house and confiscated all the papers they could find. The Duke was then led out and mounted on a spare horse; but he insisted on taking his dog with him, so the animal was handed up to be carried by him on his saddle bow. Shortly before dawn the cavalcade recrossed the Rhine and by eight o’clock on the 15th they were back in Strassburg.

  Réal had arrived and that afternoon, in the presence of Ordener and Roger, set about questioning their prisoner. Accused of conspiracy to assassinate the First Consul he showed amazement and indignantly denied even knowing that such a plot was afoot. At the suggestion that General Dumouriez and Colonel Smith had come over to join him he laughed and replied:

  ‘What nonsense. The Colonel who was staying with me was not named Smith but Schmidt, and lives in Frankfurt. As to Dumouriez, I can only suppose that some stupid agent has reported that I often spend an hour or two with the old Marquis de Thumery, who liyes in Ettenheim, as when pronounced with a heavy Germa
n accent that name sounds rather like Dumouriez.’

  Réal had also received information from a servant at the de Polignacs’ that a mysterious stranger had paid several visits to their house and that both his master and the Marquis de Rivière had risen to receive him and paid him the sort of respect that they would have shown to a Prince of the Blood; but d’Enghien stoutly denied having ever been in Paris since the Revolution, when he was still in his teens.

  Questioned about his visits to Strassburg, he did not deny having made them but disclosed their reason only with reluctance when impressed with the seriousness of his situation. It then emerged that he was in love with the Princesse Charlotte de Rohan who lived in that city. His visits had been to see her and, occasionally, to take her to the theatre.

  Roger was greatly impressed by the young Duke’s open countenance and frank manner; so he formed the opinion that Réal’s agents had stumbled on a mare’s nest and that d’Enghien was in danger of becoming their innocent victim. After the interrogation he said so to Réal, but the Police Chief and Ordener replied that it was not their business to act as judges in the matter. They had orders to convey the Duke to Paris and consign him to the fortress of Vincennes; so must carry them out.

  Much troubled, when the calvacade set off next morning for the capital, Roger decided to remain behind and carry out a further investigation. First he waited upon the Princess de Rohan whom, having heard of her lover’s arrest, he found in great distress. Crossing herself, she assured him on oath that, to the best of her belief, the Duke was not the least interested in politics, that his visits to Strassburg had been only to see her and she felt certain that within recent months he had never been to Paris.

  That night Roger again crossed the Rhine. His German was sufficiently good to pass muster in that area that had so often changed Sovereigns and a great part of the population was of mixed Franco-German descent. During the following day he made cautious enquiries which confirmed d’Enghien’s statement that the friend who had stayed with him was a Colonel Schmidt and that a Marquis de Thumery had a small property near the little town.

  Convinced now that the young Prince was innocent, he returned to Strassburg, secured a fresh mount and rode all out for Paris, arriving on the morning of March 20th. At the Tuileries he learned that Napoleon was at Malmaison so, after a meal and freshening himself up, he went on there.

  To his request for an audience the reply was returned that the First Consul was heavily engaged, but was leaving for St. Cloud that evening and would receive him there the following day. An instinct telling him that the matter was urgent, he asked for Josephine and she had him brought to her in a small closet where she often spent an hour or more arranging the flowers in which she so greatly delighted.

  Swiftly, Roger informed her of the matter that was worrying him so much. Putting down the loose flowers she held, she turned to him and he saw that her big brown eyes were gravely troubled as she said:

  ‘I believe you right. Even Réal now admits that his agents may have been mistaken. But the First Consul is adamant. He insists that d’Enghien must be tried; and by a court martial in secret. Yesterday he ordered Murat, as Governor of Paris, to convene a Court. I am told Murat was furious and declared that to bring the Duke to trial on such slender evidence would be a stain upon his uniform. Napoleon replied that he would do as he was ordered or forfeit his post. In the park here I pleaded with him myself to give up this wicked idea of making d’Enghien a scapegoat for the malice of the other Bourbon Princes; but he would not listen to me. He brushed my appeal aside, replying only, “Go away. You are a child; you do not understand public duties.”’

  After another futile attempt to get a hearing from the First Consul, Roger rode to St. Cloud with the object of getting Talleyrand to intervene; but the Foreign Minister was not there. He was spending the night at his mansion in the Rue du Bac. There, in the evening, Roger saw him and told him of his absolute conviction that d’Enghien was innocent.

  Rising from his chair, the elegant, impeccably-dressed aristocrat laid a hand gently on Roger’s shoulder and said in his deep voice, ‘Cher ami, I pray you concern yourself no further in this matter. It is no business of yours.’

  ‘But it is!’ Roger protested hotly. ‘It was I who found out for you when in London that a Bourbon Prince was to enter France and act as Regent until Louis XVIII could be brought to Paris. How can I now stand by and see an innocent young man condemned to spend years of his life in prison? For I’ve no doubt that, if he is court-martialled, Napoleon will have given orders that he is to be found guilty.’

  Talleyrand sighed, ‘Of course. And guilt in this case, as he will be charged with treason, would result in a sentence of death.’

  ‘Death!’ cried Roger. ‘No! You cannot mean it. ’Twould be the most atrocious crime.’

  ‘True,’ the Minister nodded. ‘Yet I pray you remember that during the past ten years several million people have had their lives brought to a premature end for no good reason at all. That this young man should lose his is unfortunate; but the interests of the State must override all other considerations. Forfeiting his life may preserve civil peace and save many other people from losing theirs in abortive attempts to overthrow our present government.’

  To execute a handful of trouble-makers, even if one or two of them had become involved by accident, rather than allow them to continue at liberty until a movement developed leading to riots in which scores of innocent people lost their lives, were wounded or had their property destroyed, was a policy to which Roger had always subscribed; but he would not accept it in this instance. For a further ten minutes he pleaded with Talleyrand to intervene; then, finding him firmly resolved to take no action, took his leave.

  His next resolve was to ride to Vincennes and learn what was actually happening there. He arrived a little before eleven o’clock to find Savary in charge and that the Duke had just been put through a preliminary examination. To his horror he learned that the trial was to take place at one o’clock that morning and that d’Enghien’s grave had already been dug in the dry moat of the castle.

  Old General Hulin, a veteran revolutionary who had been one of the leaders in the mob’s attack on the Bastille in ’89, had been nominated as President of the Court; so there could be little doubt that against a Bourbon Prince a verdict of ‘Guilty’ would be brought in.

  Savary was an old acquaintance of Roger’s. It was he and Rapp, Desaix’s other A.D.C., who had found him naked and wounded on the field of Marengo while searching for the body of their dead General; so, in a sense, Roger owed his life to him. But that was the only bond between them; for Roger had found him a hard, unfeeling man. That, he supposed, was the reason why Napoleon had made him Chief of Police. Nevertheless Roger now did his utmost to persuade Savary, in the event of the verdict being ‘guilty,’ to postpone d’Enghien’s execution till the following day. But Savary refused to depart from normal procedure, which was that after a sentence had been passed it should be carried out within a few hours.

  Tired as Roger was, in desperation he remounted his horse and rode back to St. Cloud. The fact that he was an A.D.C enabled him to enter the Palace unchallenged. Although it was well after midnight he thought it probable that Napoleon would still be at work, so went straight to the Orangery, that the First Consul had made his office. There he found Rustem, the faithful Mameluke that Napoleon had brought back from Egypt. He was sitting on the stairs that led to an upper room with his scimitar across his knees and obviously on guard.

  Assuming that the First Consul was up there Roger demanded to see him. Rustem shook his turbaned head. ‘That is not possible, Monsieur le Colonel. He is amusing himself upstairs with a lady, and has given imperative orders that he is not to be disturbed.’

  At that moment Constant, Napoleon’s confidential valet, entered the room to collect Napoleon’s hat, cloak and sword. Turning to him Roger asked quickly, ‘Who has the First Consul upstairs with him?’

  Constant, w
ho knew Roger well, replied with a grin, ‘A new one: Madame Duchâtcl. She is Madame Bonaparte’s reader, and a real beauty. She is only twenty but as clever as they make them, and very discreet. No doubt she does not want to upset her old husband who is no use to her. But she has been skilfully angling for our master ever since she has been here.’

  ‘I have got to see him,’ Roger said tersely. ‘It is a matter of life and death: a matter that may seriously affect his own future.’

  For a moment Constant hesitated, then he shrugged, ‘In that case … but God help you if he does not regard the matter as so serious as you seem to think.’ Then he waved Rustem aside.

  Roger ran up the stairs, knocked twice hard on the door, waited a moment then, although no reply came, threw it open and marched in.

  Napoleon, wearing only a shirt, stood near the hearth on which there was a blazing fire that gave the only light in the room. Obviously he had only just jumped out of bed. Lying there was a beautiful girl with golden hair, cornflower blue eyes, a perfectly shaped aquiline nose. Her mouth, half open in surprise, showed too that she had lovely teeth. After one glance at Roger she hurriedly turned over so that her back was to him. Meanwhile, Napoleon, scowling like thunder, snarled:

  ‘What is the meaning of this? How dare you force your way in here? Who gave you permission to disturb me? This abuse of your position is unforgivable! Here and now I deprive you of your appointment as an A.D.C.; and of your rank of Colonel. Get out! Get out! D’you hear me?’

  Roger did not attempt to check the flow of vituperation that followed, but stood his ground. When it had ceased he said in a tired, hoarse voice, ‘Consul, I come upon the matter of d’Enghien. Unless you intervene before dawn they mean to shoot him. He is innocent. I know it. I swear it.’ Then, in a spate of words he gave his reasons for his belief.