Three days later there was a magnificent ceremony at Les Invalides. The Comte de Segur, a returned émigré who had once been a Chamberlain at the Court of Versailles, was put in charge of the arrangements and produced a splendid spectacle. It was over four years since Bonaparte had announced his intention of creating a Legion of Honour, but so great had been the opposition to it by the old Republicans that he had shelved the idea. Now, as Napoleon I, Emperor of the French, no one could dispute his right to do so.
Members of the Imperial family, the newly-made Marshals, the members of the Council of State and the Senate, scores of Generals, Brigadiers and Colonels, all in brilliant uniforms or rich robes, were assembled there, together with Josephine and the ladies of her Court dressed in bright silks, satins, velvets and brocades and decked with dazzling jewels. The assembly also included scientists, men of letters, doctors and lawyers; the best brains in France, for distinguished civilians were also eligible for the Order.
Everyone among the soldiers who had received a Sword of Honour, which included Roger, was automatically to become a member of the Legion. But, under Napoleon himself, as Grand Master, it was to consist of four grades, Grand Officer, Commander, Officer and Legionary. To Roger’s surprise and delight, when his turn came to be decorated he was given the cross of a Commander; a great honour, as only three other Colonels in the whole army were given that rank and even some of the Generals were not. As le brave Breuc none of his companions grudged it to him but, when Napoleon pinned the cross on his chest he said:
‘For your devotion to duty at Toulon, Venice, in Egypt and at Marengo.’ Then he bent forward to whisper, and Roger thought he was going to say something about the conspiracy; but, with sly humour, he added ‘and as a Lieutenant at Bruges.’
The following day a great cavalcade of coaches and horsemen set off with the Emperor, accompanied by Josephine, for the coast. But there a horrible disaster was to take place. On arriving at Boulogne Napoleon ordered Admiral Bruix to send his flotilla to sea next morning to perform an exercise that could be witnessed from the shore. When morning came the vessels were still in harbour. Bruix was sent for and said that the exercises could not take place as a storm was expected to blow up.
Napoleon was furious and curtly told the Admiral to have the flotilla put to sea at once. Bruix retired, but an hour later the vessels were still in port; so he was sent for again. In vain he protested that the weather was worsening and that to carry out the exercise would endanger the lives of his men. On receiving a further imperative order to proceed, he flatly refused to obey.
The Emperor roared with rage, threw his hat on the floor and raised his riding whip. His staff stood by petrified by this awful scene, for the Admiral took a quick step back and laid his hand on his sword. Napoleon did not strike him but, with a torrent of foul language, dismissed him from his post and exiled him to Holland. Then, with blazing eyes, in a voice of thunder he turned to Bruix’s second in command, Rear Admiral Magon, and charged him instantly to carry out the order.
The flotilla put to sea. The sky grew dark and an hour later a violent storm was sending great waves crashing on the shore. The low-built, heavily laden invasion craft proved incapable of weathering it. One after the other they were swamped and overturned. The Emperor and his staff, watching from the beach, were horrified.
Appalled by the result of having enforced his order, Napoleon set an example by running to a small boat with the intention of attempting to rescue some of the men who were being tossed towards the shore by the huge breakers. Fearing he would be drowned, some of his officers dashed after him and endeavoured to hold him back. But yelling, ‘Let me go! Let me go! They must be saved!’ he broke away from them and jumped into the boat. A minute later a wave broke over it, filling it with foaming water. As it sank under him he was dragged back, soaked and blaspheming, to the shore. Nothing could be done. They could only stand there, drenched with spray, while the seamen and soldiers drowned before their eyes. Next morning over two hundred bodies were washed up.
Undeterred by this terrible event, Napoleon held the great review that had been planned. In the huge natural amphitheatre, not far from Caesar’s Tower, the eighty thousand men who formed Soult’s army were drawn up. Seated in an ancient iron chair that was said to have been the throne of King Dagobert, Napoleon received the acclamations of his troops, then administered to them en masse the same oath of allegiance as had been taken by the brilliant company at Les Invalides. There followed another distribution of crosses of the Legion. Finally, with a dramatic gesture, he pointed across the sea to the white cliffs of Dover and cried to those about him, ‘We need only to be masters of the Channel for six hours to be masters of the world.’
Roger cheered as loudly as the others; while thinking to himself how extraordinary it was that a man who could grasp the essentials of not only military problems, but also social, legal and administrative ones, with such swiftness, should continue to be so blind to those that concerned the sea.
Now that he was taking a special interest in all matters to do with the French Navy, he had recently gone to some pains to get a sight of a confidential report from the Admiralty. So as not to give umbrage to the Emperor one fact had been sugared over with ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’. Yet when denuded of those it was a statement that, owing to the vast number of invasion craft that had been built, it would take six days to get them out of their ports. And after the tragedy that had befallen the local flotilla Roger was of the opinion that, even if the British fleet was decoyed away from the Channel for a week, Napoleon would still not succeed in landing any considerable body of troops on the English beaches.
As it transpired Latouche-Tréville, who was due to sail from Toulon on the 13th of that month, in the attempt to fox Nelson and Cornwallis, never reached the Channel. On August 20th he died suddenly and this led to the operation being postponed.
Meanwhile the Imperial cortège moved up the coast for a further series of inspections, in due course arriving at Aix-la-Chapelle where Charlemagne’s remains were entombed. A solemn Mass was held in the Cathedral and afterwards Josephine was offered the arm-bone of the mighty King. Proudly she declared that she would not deprive the city of this precious relic as she had the support of an arm as great as that of Charlemagne. But Napoleon made off with the insignia and sword of the Frankish Emperor so that he could use them at his own coming Coronation.
The sight of the white cliffs of Dover and the progress of the cortège up the Channel coast had caused Roger to think more frequently than ever of Georgina, until he became obsessed with the idea that he must find out for certain if she was alive or dead. By now it was certain that she would either have returned to England or her fate would be known; but the only way to find out was to go there.
Having made his plan he pretended loss of appetite and for ten days half-starved himself until he had lost a stone in weight, become pale and looked obviously ill. Josephine drew Napoleon’s attention to his state, which gave him the opportunity he was seeking. With apparent reluctance he admitted that something was radically wrong with him and said that he feared he must ask for sick leave.
The Emperor granted it at once but, before dismissing him, said kindly, ‘Get well quickly, mon brave Breuc. Unless your state does not permit it I insist that you rejoin me before the beginning of December. I wish all my old friends to be present at my Coronation. I have sent for the Pope to crown me and it will be a magnificent affair.’
In consequence, while Napoleon and his entourage made their way up the Rhine on a long tour of the defences there, Roger rode back to Paris then down to Bordeaux. After two days of discreet enquiries he found a Captain who was about to run a cargo of claret over to the Devon coast, and on September 10th he landed in a secluded cove near Sidmouth. Two days later he was in London.
As usual, he went straight to Amesbury House and, the moment he came face to face with Droopy Ned, enquired about Georgina. His old friend sadly shook his head and said:
‘Alas, dear Ro
ger, I fear we will see her no more. As you know, she sailed last autumn to the Indies, in part for the pleasure of getting away from our atrocious climate during the winter months, but also with a view to supervising personally the disposal of John Beefy’s plantations there. That, I am told, she carried out to good advantage, for she was far nimbler witted that most women, and ’twas in order to guard against being rooked by some unscrupulous land agent that she journeyed there herself. About mid-March she sailed for home in a well-found merchantman out of Bristol named “Enterprise.” ’Tis known that the ship took the usual north-eastern course through the “Windward Passage” between Cuba and San Domingo, but after that she disappeared. No hurricane was reported at about that period but in those waters there are many uncharted rocks and shoals, so the ship may have struck one in the night and gone down. On the other hand she may have been attacked.…’
‘She was,’ Roger cut him short, ‘by a Sea Rover, a Frenchman or some other privateer. I know not which, but I am certain of it. On the evening of March 20th, which fits well with what you say, I saw the ship burning and about to sink.’ He then gave an account of the vision he had had.
Droopy did not question his having had this psychic experience, but said, ‘Then we must account her dead. This happened nearly six months ago. Had she become the captive of some buccaneer he would have demanded a ransom for her, and by this time we’d know of it.’
Roger bowed his head, ‘Somehow I cannot believe her dead. Yet the facts as known appear to prove it to be so. In time, perhaps, I’ll get used to the thought. But she was the love of my life, and ’tis a blow from which I’ll ne’er recover.’
That night, to take Roger’s mind off his sorrow, Droopy brought him up-to-date with the political situation. Soon after he had last left England dissatisfaction with Adding-ton’s government had become almost universal. In February the King had been afflicted with another spell of madness and was extremely ill. Fox had seized the opportunity to initiate another intrigue with the object of getting his patron, the Prince of Wales, made Regent. The Tories had succeeded in thwarting it temporarily but when, in May, the King had recovered he could no longer ignore the popular outcry that Addington must go. So he had sent for Pitt.
During his long administration Pitt had fought the French with dogged determination; but he was a man of peace, detested war and had no gift for directing it. His real genius lay in the field of finance, and in his early years as Prime Minister he had performed a miracle by bringing Britain to a marvellous prosperity after the terrible depression into which the loss of her American colonies had dragged her. On becoming Prime Minister Addington had scrapped Pitt’s taxation policy and introduced one that was proving disastrous to commerce. And it was in the hope of saving Britain from bankruptcy, more than on any other count, that Pitt had agreed to accept office again.
During the three years Addington had been Prime Minister the House had become divided into several parties, each bitterly opposed to the others. He had had the support of the die-hard Tories who were determined to keep the Whigs out, but many of the ablest ex-Ministers who had served under Pitt were determined to bring him back and criticised Addington at every opportunity. Fox, as the leader of the die-hard Whigs, had gained strength owing to this dissension; yet the Portland Whigs refused him their full support. Grenville, who hated and despised Addington had, meanwhile, quarrelled with Pitt and was leading a splinter group of Tories.
In consequence, that Spring Pitt had been faced with the awful problem of reconciling these factions and inducing their leaders to combine in an administration that would be truly national, so that it should have the confidence of the country.
To achieve this, he had attempted to bring Fox into his Cabinet, which had cost him a renewal of Grenville’s allegiance, then the King had refused to accept Fox as a Minister. The Portland Whigs supported Pitt but, to keep a balance, he had to include in his Cabinet Hawkesbury and several other incompetents from Addington’s old followers, with the result that, on average, his new colleagues were much inferior to those who had worked with him in his former administration.
Soon after he had again become Prime Minister there had occurred another split in the Tory party. Pitt had always favoured the Abolition of the Slave Trade and, owing to the untiring efforts of his friend Wilberforce, the national conscience had at last been aroused to the inhumanity of the traffic; so Pitt had felt the time ripe to bring in an Act of Abolition. Its opponents, who had always argued that Britain could not afford to give up this lucrative commerce, particularly in time of war, immediately raised a tremendous outcry. Addington bitterly attacked the Bill, but Fox gave Pitt his support, so it was carried, although only at the price of alienating many of Pitt’s old supporters.
When Roger called on the Prime Minister he was received by him after a long wait. He looked tired and harassed and spoke with some bitterness of the difficulties he was having in getting his measures through the House. Then, when Roger had given him such particulars as he could about the dispositions of the French Navy, he said:
‘I am even more convinced than when I spoke to you of the matter at Walmer that our one hope is to maintain our superiority over the French at sea. With that in mind, soon after I returned to office I put in hand an increased shipbuilding programme. The French émigré General Dumouriez sent me a long memoir upon the subject and he argued wisely that nothing is so perilous as remaining perpetually on the defensive; that our Navy should be made strong enough to go over to the attack, and that if we could make it so we would stand a much better chance of drawing other nations into a new alliance against Bonaparte.’
‘What, sir,’ Roger asked, ‘are our present prospects of doing so?’
‘Encouraging, to say the least. The foul murder of the Duc d’Enghien has helped us there. Before that the Czar was inclined to admire Bonaparte for the new internal peace and prosperity he has brought to France; but since then he has declared him to be a monster in human form who will stick at nothing for his own aggrandisement, and so must be checked. Can we but persuade him to come in with us, we may then count upon Gustavus of Sweden also to take up arms against the French. Given those two we would have good hopes of also drawing Austria into a new Coalition; and I am now in friendly correspondence with all three monarchs to that end. I am, though, much concerned about the attitude of Spain. Not only has she blackmailed cur old ally Portugal into closing her ports against us but she is paying Bonaparte a huge subsidy which is of great assistance to him. That, she can continue to do only so long as her treasure ships from America are freely allowed to enter Cadiz. Since she continues to ignore our protests that she is infringing her neutrality by providing Bonaparte with the sinews of war, I have recently given orders that her ports are to be blockaded.’
Roger raised his eyebrows, ‘Is that wise, sir? Surely it would be sounder policy to let Napoleon continue to receive these supplies of Spanish gold, rather than risk Spain entering the war actively against us.’
‘She will not fight,’ Mr. Pitt asserted with conviction. ‘It is not without reason that her Prime Minister, Godoy, has been christened “Prince of Peace,” and he is as slippery as an eel. Should we take any of their ships we’ll not rob them of their bullion; only hold it for them, and thus give him an excuse to resist any pressure Bonaparte may exert upon him to act against us.’
While Roger had a poor opinion of Mr. Pitt’s capabilities as a strategist, he had a great admiration for his financial genius, and it was obvious that holding up the Spanish treasure ships would make it difficult for the French Treasury to find the vast sums needed to pay Napoleon’s army; so he said no more. For a further half hour they talked of other matters, then he took his leave.
Next morning he bought a variety of toys and in the afternoon drove down to Stillwaters to see the children. On arriving he found Colonel Thursby there and at once enquired about Georgina, but the Colonel could tell him little more than he had learned from Droopy Ned and, with tears
in his eyes, the old gentleman said that as no news of her or the ‘Enterprise’ had been received by midsummer he had since reconciled himself to the thought that she must be dead.
Previously the Colonel had made only frequent visits to Stillwaters, spending the rest of the year either at his old home near Lymington or at his house in Bedford Square, but Roger was greatly pleased to learn that, in order to help Aunt Marsham bring up the children, he had now decided to make Stillwaters his permanent home.
That night after dinner, when Aunt Marsham had left them to their port, they talked again of Georgina. She had taken to the Indies with her a Mr. and Mrs. Skiffington, who were old friends, and the handsome young Lord Rockhurst who, knowing her so well, Roger assumed to have been her lover at that time. No news had been received of them, nor of any of the crew of ‘Enterprise’, so it seemed that the ship must have gone down with all hands.
Legally, Georgina’s death could not be presumed for some years, but the family solicitors had shown her father her Will. She had left Stillwaters to little Charles, a legacy of £50,000 and most of her jewels to Susan, the contents of her library to her father should he be living at the date of her death, £5,000 each to her faithful Jenny and Aunt Marsham and numerous smaller legacies to other friends and servants. To Roger she had left her paintings, her horses, any of her personal possessions he chose to select and her hair.
By her last bequest Roger was deeply touched and, as the Will was a recent one made shortly before she sailed, it was clear that by then she must have regretted her betrayal of him and again thought of him with great tenderness. As the Colonel made no mention of that dark day when she had nearly caused Roger to be re-arrested, he refrained from speaking of it.
He remained at Stillwaters for a week, spending most of each day playing with the children. While doing so, or talking with the Colonel, his mind was occupied; but every room, the hothouses, the stables and every corner of the gardens held memories of Georgina and these saddened him so much that, although the Colonel pressed him to stay longer, he excused himself as having business to attend to and was glad to get away.
The Wanton Princess Page 39
