With incredible swiftness Napoleon had marched against them and formed one of his superb concentrations in the neighbourhood of Jena. Believing the main body of the enemy to be immediately ahead of him, he despatched the corps of Davout and Bernadotte far out on his flank in an encircling movement, so that when he drove in the Prussian centre, the two Marshals would be able to fall upon and annihilate the retreating enemy.
But, for once, the Emperor had made a serious miscalculation. His attack at Jena was completely successful, but it was only one wing of the Prussian army that he had defeated. The greater part of it remained intact and fell back on Auerstadt, where it encountered Davout. Against overwhelming odds Davout’s three divisions fought desperately all day. Bernadotte’s corps was only four miles distant and he could not have failed to hear the guns blazing away at both Jena and Auerstadt; yet he came to the assistance neither of the Emperor nor, in spite of appeal after appeal, of Davout.
He had shrugged this off afterwards by saying that he had obeyed the Emperor’s orders by remaining in the position to which his corps had been assigned. But everyone was convinced that he had deliberately remained out of the battle because Davout was the Emperor’s man, body and soul. For that reason he loathed Bernadotte and Bernadotte loathed him.
The Prussian Army was almost annihilated. Its remnants were pursued and butchered by Murat’s cavalry. The other corps advanced by forced marches. Fortress after fortress fell, until the victorious French reached the Baltic. After only twenty-three days of battle Murat reported to the Emperor, ‘The war is over, because there are no more Prussians left to fight.’ Davout had earned undying glory and was made Duke of Auerstadt.
Bernadotte was a most fluent talker and held the table for a good part of the time while they made inroads into the oysters, lobster pasties, sturgeon in aspic, quails stuffed with foie gras, truffled capon and other delicacies provided by Talleyrand’s chef, and washed them down with Montrachet and Château Latour. As there were few secrets from the men who were asked to the statesman’s breakfast parties, the conversation at them was always fascinating; but on this occasion Roger’s mind was so occupied with his own anxieties that he took little heed of it.
At last, to his great relief the other guests took their leave. Leaning on Roger’s arm, Talleyrand led him into a small, richly furnished library, as he said, ‘Cher ami, it is an age since we met. Tell me, how has the world been treating you?’
‘Well enough,’ Roger replied, ‘until recently. But now I am landed in a pretty mess. And I am come to crave your Exalted Highness’ advice.’
The Prince lowered himself into an easy chair and waved Roger to another. ‘You are, as ever, welcome to it.’
Roger then gave him a full account of his dealings with von Haugwitz, and their outcome. Talleyrand heard him out in silence, took a pinch of snuff, and said thoughtfully, ‘This is certainly a bad business. Had you killed this unsavoury Baron in a duel, you’d have no cause to worry. But murder is another matter. Your wife having been found dead with him and your having made off with his, provides such strong circumstantial evidence that one can hardly doubt that you’d be convicted on it.’
‘I know it. But what hope do you think I have of the Emperor’s giving me his protection?’
‘In spite of your secret activities, you have served him well in many ways, and he’ll not hand over so old a friend to the Prussians. But, seeing the Baron was own brother to the Chief Minister of Prussia, he will almost certainly feel it incumbent on him to make some gesture of appeasement.’
‘That is what I fear. And the prospect of kicking my heels in a fortress for a year or two is damnably unattractive. Even more, I am concerned for the safety of the Baroness; for she is of English birth and my life-long friend.’
‘On her account you have no need to worry. I will see to it that no harm befalls her.’
‘I was about to ask Your Highness’ protection for her, and I am more grateful than I can say.’
Talleyrand shrugged. ‘’Tis nothing. I’ll send her to my chateau of Valencey. To implicate me in his folly in going into Spain, the Emperor has foisted on me there that idiot ex-King Carlos and his licentious old Queen. They are by no means the type of fellow guests I could have chosen for your lady; but at least she will be safe at Valencey from anyone knowing her to be English. Your own situation is our real concern, and needs some thought. Give me a while to think.’
Closing his heavily-lidded eyes, the man with the most subtle brain in Europe remained motionless for a good five minutes, then he opened his eyes and said, ‘Somehow we must endeavour to make it appear that you killed the Baron because you believed that doing so was in the service of the Emperor. Does the name von Stein mean anything to you?’
Roger nodded. ‘He was a Minister in 1806, and one of the men who pushed Frederick William into going to war with France. After Jena he was the leading spirit in bringing about the regeneration of Prussia by the abolition of serfdom and many other liberal measures that made the common people feel that they now have a stake their country. His object, of course, was to arouse the patriotic feelings of the nation, so they would rise en masse, free themselves from the burden of taxation imposed by Napoleon and drive the French out of the territories stolen from Prussia after her defeat. Am I not right?’
‘You are. But his zeal proved his undoing. The Emperor saw through his manœuvres, demanded that Frederick William should dismiss him, deprive him of his estates, outlaw him and, if caught, have him shot as an enemy of France. The spineless King complied. But Stein escaped to Bohemia and, from there is still inciting the Prussians to rise against us. I think we might make use of him.’
Stretching out a beruffled hand, Talleyrand tinkled a gold bell on his desk. When a secretary appeared, he proceeded to dictate a letter in French. It purported to be from the Freiherr von Stein to Ulrich von Haugwitz, and its contents implied that it formed part of a regular correspondence between them. The letter conveyed that von Haugwitz had for some time been opposed to the pro-French policy of his brother the Minister and that he was secretly in touch with other German nobles in his district who, among them, believed that they would be able to raise a force of two thousand men when the time was ripe to attempt to throw out the French.
When Talleyrand had done, he said to the secretary, ‘Give that to Monsieur Oster. Tell him I wish him to translate it into German and write it out in their script.’
As soon as the secretary had left the room, Roger asked, ‘How go things here? Are there any signs of this long armistice with Austria coming to an end?’
Talleyrand took another pinch of snuff, flicked the fallen grains from his lace cravat and nodded. ‘Yes. The Emperor Francis has become weary of being kept out of his capital for so long, so he has at last given way to our major demands. As you know, I am in secret communication with Prince Metternich, and I received the news from him only yesterday. The Peace Treaty will be signed at Schönbrunn in the course of a week or so.’
‘Then Britain will be the only nation left in arms against the Empire,’ Roger remarked.
‘Not quite. You forget Spain,’ the Prince smiled. ‘And I have considerable hopes that it is those ragged, nebulous hostilities in the Peninsula that will eventually break our little man’s back.’
‘You really think that likely?’
‘I do. It is just on two years since Junot was sent into the Peninsula, and there has been fighting there, with a constant drain on French forces, ever since. If Napoleon had not panicked after he had put his brother Joseph on the throne of Spain, and returned to Paris because he believed that Fouché and I had joined forces with the object of bringing about his downfall, he might long since have brought the Spaniards to heel. But, as he then became occupied with his war against Austria, he had to leave the Peninsula to his Marshals. Some of them are very able men, but they are not used to this type of warfare in which everywhere the common people have taken up arms against us and fight with furious fanati
cism. Moreover, during the past year the British have established themselves firmly there, and now a very large army indeed would have to be sent to the Peninsula to drive them out.’
‘Agreed. But now the war with Austria is over, that will have freed at least two hundred thousand men, and the Emperor could again go to Spain to direct operations.’
Talleyrand shook his head. ‘I judge you wrong in that. The peace will, of course, free large numbers of troops, but so many must be retained to garrison the fortresses all over Europe and hold the Emperor’s conquests down, that I greatly doubt if a sufficient reinforcement to make any material difference could be sent to Spain. As for our little man going there himself in the near future, I’d wager my Principality against it. His mind is no longer occupied by war. It is entirely absorbed in this prospect of a new marriage.’
‘Then the divorce has been definitely decided upon? I gathered at Erfurt that he was seriously contemplating ridding himself of Josephine; and I am greatly distressed for her.’
‘You count her, I know, a dear friend.’ Talleyrand spread his long, beautifully-kept hands. ‘But what would you? As long as he believed himself incapable of fathering a child, her position as Empress was secure. Since there can be no reasonable doubt that Elenore Denudle’s son was begotten by him, the situation is entirely changed. His dearest wish has long been to found a dynasty, and he is now so powerful that he contemplates adding still further to his grandeur by an alliance with one of the great Imperial houses.’
‘We may, then, have as Empress a Hapsburg or Romanoff Princess?’
‘It will be one or the other. Which, is still in the balance. He sounded the Czar at Erfurt; but Alexander fobbed him off by saying that his sister’s marriage was a matter for her mother. Recently he has reopened the question and is hoping that the Dowager Empress will give her consent. The alternative is Marie Louise of Austria, and both Metternich and I are pulling every string we can that would favour the match.’
Roger smiled. ‘I know well Your Highness’ antipathy to the Russians; and a closer alliance with them could mean yet another series of ruinous wars. The project formed at Tilsit would be revived. The two Emperors would almost certainly march against Turkey and divide the Sultan’s dominions between them. Then Napoleon would set about his long-cherished plan for a descent on India.’
‘That is exactly the danger as I foresee it, and whether or not he succeeded in driving the British out, the strain of such a vast campaign would prove the final ruin of France. Therefore, no opportunity must be lost to press both for the Austrian marriage and sow dissension between Napoleon and the Czar.’
For another half-hour the two old friends talked on, then the secretary brought in the forged letter. Handing it to Roger, Talleyrand said, ‘How you bring this to his notice I must leave to your ingenuity. I can only pray that it will serve to excuse the part you have played in this most unfortunate affair.’
Having expressed his deep gratitude, Roger took his leave and returned to La Belle Etoile. There he found Georgina in Mère Blanchard’s kitchen, showing her how to make the famous British dish, Cornish Pasties. Such condescension by a great lady, and to find that she was an accomplished cook, filled the good, buxom Norman woman with surprise, and a respectful devotion that she would not have given to a Queen.
They all made an excellent midday meal off the dish, followed by a fine variety of cheeses. Then Roger took Georgina up to their room and broke to her the dangers of their situation. Although he made as light of matters as he reasonably could, over the years her mind had become so closely attuned to his that she sensed how gravely apprehensive he was about the outcome of his meeting with the Emperor.
She said that, should the worst happen, she meant to remain in Paris, on the chance that she could find some way to help him; as his freedom was more precious to her than her own. But he told her that he had secured Talleyrand’s protection for her and eventually made her promise that she would place herself entirely in his friend’s hands.
As he prepared to leave her, she suddenly thought of the crystal ball that she had brought with her jewels, and insisted that he should remain while she looked into it, in an endeavour to see what the future held for him. Getting it out, she set it up on a small table. They sat down in chairs on either side of it, and held each other’s hands while she gazed into the smooth, shining sphere.
For a time they sat perfectly still and remained absolutely silent, while Georgina concentrated. At length, in her sight the ball misted over. The mist dissolved into slowly whirling wisps, then figures appeared in it.
Her big, dark eyes widened and she gave a sudden gasp of dismay. ‘Oh, Roger, I see you in a cell and you are not in uniform, but … but in prisoner’s clothes. A man is speaking to you. He is a parson … but not a Frenchman. My psychic sense tells me that this place is not France. You are in Germany and … oh, God! Can it be that you are in a condemned cell and … and being prepared to go to your death?’
Pushing the crystal from her, she burst into a flood of tears. Roger did his utmost to comfort her, but his efforts were of no avail. When she had become a little calmer, she begged him not to go to the Tuileries, but to leave her in Talleyrand’s care and seek safety in immediate flight. Knowing that Georgina’s predictions were rarely wrong, he was greatly tempted to agree; but he hesitated because he knew that if he failed to report he would have burnt his boats. While he was still trying desperately to make up his mind which course to adopt, there came a knock at the door.
Roger opened it to find Maître Blanchard standing in the passage. The landlord bowed, ‘I regret to disturb you, Monsieur le Colonel, but there is an officer below. He has a carriage waiting, and he says he has been sent to fetch you because the Emperor requires your presence.’
With a nod Roger closed the door and, giving a pale smile, turned back to Georgina, Taking her in his arms, he said softly, ‘There is no escaping fate, dear love, and it looks as though I have tempted it once too often. But I beg you not to despair. Maybe I’ll cheat it once again. And now, before I go to meet whatever is in store for me, I pray you grant me a boon. It is something that beyond all else will inspire me to fight death. Do I succeed in surviving this peril and get safely back to England, will you marry me?’
The tears streaming down her lovely cheeks, she nodded. ‘Roger, my own. How could I possibly refuse you? I have been the veriest fool to reject you for so long.’
Ten minutes later he had joined the officer who had been sent for him, and was on his way to the Tuileries.
4
Roger Faces the Emperor
La Belle Etoile lay in the Rue de I’Arbre Sec, which was in the oldest part of Paris, to the east of the Louvre. The streets there were narrow, with the wood-framed upper storeys of the houses projecting beyond the gutters. There were no pavements, and the cobbled ways were a seething mass of people, dashing beneath horses’ heads or squeezing themselves against the walls to make way for drays and coaches, which could proceed only at a foot pace and were frequently brought to a halt.
It took the carriage in which Roger sat with his escort nearly a quarter of an hour to reach the Place du Louvre; but, having crossed it, they were able to drive at a better pace down the broader thoroughfare that ran alongside the Palace and, not long since, renamed the Rue de Rivoli in honour of Napoleon’s victory.
Beyond the Louvre lay the big garden where, on the terrible 10th August 1791, the first scene of the Terror had been enacted by the massacre of Louis XVI’s Swiss Guard. Turning left into it, the carriage pulled up in front of the Palais de Tuileries. Two minutes later, Roger was mounting the splendid grand staircase, up which he had often so gaily gone to participate in magnificent fêtes and Imperial ceremonies.
The fact that he had not been asked to surrender his sword and so was not actually under arrest, caused him some relief; but he was far from taking that as a sign that he had nothing to fear. At the door of the big antechamber on the first floor, his escort,
with whom he had exchanged no more than a courteous greeting, handed him over to the Chamberlain-in-Waiting, and left him.
In the lofty white and gold salon, a number of people, mostly officers, were sitting about or talking in small groups. Roger knew a number of them, but had too much on his mind to wish to enter on idle conversation; so, after nodding to a few acquaintances, he sat down on a fauteuil at the far end of the room.
He had not been there long when Duroc, Marshal of the Emperor’s Palaces and Camps, came into the room to speak to the big, black-bearded General Montbrun who, with Lasalle, St. Croix and Colbert was, after Murat, one of Napoleon’s four finest cavalry leaders.
The Marshal was one of Roger’s oldest friends. Getting up, he crossed the room toward him. When Duroc had finished talking to the General, he turned, raised his eyebrows and exclaimed with pleasure:
‘How good to see you, mon cher ami. I had no idea that you were in Paris.’
‘You surprise me,’ Roger replied. ‘I got back only yesterday. But the Emperor has sent for me, and I felt certain you would be able to inform me of the reason.’
‘No. He has made no mention of you to me.’
‘What sort of mood is he in today?’
‘There has been nothing so far to put him out of temper. But he is, of course, as busy as usual; so it will probably be an hour or two before he sees you.’
‘I suppose he and Berthier are hard at it making plans to put an end to the trouble in Spain?
‘Oh, no. He is not worrying himself on that score. He still regards it as no more than risings here and there by ill-armed rabbles, stiffened by an English army of no great size. It now looks as though a peace with Austria will soon be signed. Then he’ll be able to withdraw his legions and send an army of a hundred thousand men to clean up the Peninsula. But you must forgive me now, as I have much to do. Unless he sends you off on some mission, we must agree a night to dine together.’
The Ravishing of Lady Mary Ware Page 4
