The Irish Witch rb-11

by Dennis Wheatley

  On the Czar's arrival in the Rue St. Florentin Talley­rand, according to protocol, handed his mansion and its contents over to His Imperial Majesty who thanked him graciously and proceeded to settle in with his entourage. When the rooms had been satisfactorily allocated Talley­rand had the opportunity that he had so skilfully schemed for of a private conversation with Alexander.

  The Czar announced that he wished the French to choose their own form of government by a plebiscite; but Talleyrand pointed out that this would take many weeks, and that they already had in the Senate a body representing the people.

  Alexander expressed concern that the Senate might opt for a return to a Republic; whereas he, his fellow sovereigns and Lord Castlereagh all favoured France's becoming a limited monarchy.

  Talleyrand assured him that he could control the extre­mists, so the only question that remained was whose name should be put forward to the Senate as the future King of France.

  'The Emperor Francis,' said Alexander, 'would natural­ly like his grandson to assume that title, with his daughter, Marie Louise, as Regent.'

  'Sire', Talleyrand replied. 'With a member of the Bonaparte dynasty on the throne, Napoleon would re­main, for all practical purposes the ruling power and, wherever he might be, dictate the policy of France.'

  'You are right, and on those grounds the rest of us have already expressed our objections to Metternich. What think you though of Prince Eugene ?'

  'As Napoleon's step-son and a man who had always displayed great devotion to him, the same objection applies, Sire.'

  'Bernadotte, then. As Crown Prince of Sweden, he has shown himself to be a most capable administrator as well as a very able General.'

  Talleyrand smiled. 'If we wanted a soldier to rule us, Sire, we already have the greatest one in the world.'

  'The only alternative with which we are left seems to be the Bourbons,' the Czar remarked with obvious reluctance. 'But we do not like them, and neither do the French people. The Duc d'Angouleme has been well received in

  Bordeaux, but during the passage of our armies through eastern France we saw not a sign of anyone desiring a Restoration. And can one wonder at that? These stupid, arrogant Princes have learned nothing during their twenty years of exile. They and their emigre nobility would at once strive to secure their ancient privileges, batten on the people and again earn their hatred by the suppression of liberty.'

  'Permit me to submit, Sire,' Talleyrand replied suavely, 'that while your description of the Princes well fits the frivolous Comte d'Artois, it cannot fairly be applied to his elder brother, who would become King Louis XVIII. In the old days at Versailles, when he was known as the Comte de Provence, although our tastes were somewhat divergent, I had ample evidence of his character. He is far from a fool. He was knowledgeable about scientific matters and a talented geographer. He is a man of peace and tact. He would, I am convinced, grant a liberal con­stitution fully protecting the people's liberties and make an excellent ruler.

  'Moreover, I beg leave to differ from Your Imperial Majesty in your assessment of the French people. The French Army is more devoted to its own glory than to Napoleon. The whole nation longs for peace and can find it only under the old dynasty.

  'Finally, Sire, surely anyone so well-versed in statescraft as yourself must agree that we should be guided by a principle, and in this case it is legitimacy. The legitimate King of France is Louis XVIII'

  The Czar nodded thoughtfully. 'There is much in what you say, Prince. We will think over the matter, and dis­cuss it with our allies.'

  That evening there gathered round a long table the Czar and Nesselrode, the King of Prussia and his First

  Minister Hardenberg, the Princes Schwarzenberg and Lichenstein, representing the Emperor of Austria, and Talleyrand and Dalberg to speak for the Bourbons. At small side tables sat secretaries to take notes, the Marquis de Joucourt and Roger acting for Talleyrand.

  Alexander opened the proceedings by declaring that they had a choice of three possible courses: they could make peace with Napoleon, make Marie Louise Regent for her son, or restore the Bourbons. The first, he said, they had already agreed to be unacceptable, the second might lead to Napoleon continuing to influence events but the third was a possibility to which he was prepared to agree, provided that it was the will of France. He then called on the Prince de Benevent to put the case for the Bourbons.

  Talleyrand did so with all his persuasive powers, and his arguments were accepted without dispute.

  Next day a proclamation, signed by Alexander on be­half of the Allied Powers, was issued, inviting the Senate to appoint a Provisional Government. Talleyrand, as Vice Grand Elector, summoned the Senate. Only sixty-four out of the one hundred and forty attended this momentous gathering, and the Prince had no difficulty in securing their agreement to his proposals. A Provisional Govern­ment of five was formed, with him as its leader. On April 2nd the Senate and the Corps Legislative passed motions that Napoleon was deposed. On the 3rd the Provisional Government published an 'Address to the French Armies', urging them to separate from 'a man who is not even French'.

  But Napoleon was still far from finished. At Fontainebleau during the past week he had succeeded in amassing from many quarters an army of sixty thousand men. On the 4th, when the news arrived that he had been deposed, he had a furious scene with his Marshals. Led by Ney they argued heatedly with him, insisting that to continue the war was futile, and eventually persuaded him to sign a form of abdication with which Caulaincourt was sent off to the Czar. But while it contained his agreement to relinquish the throne and leave France, it stipulated that the Empress should remain as Regent for his son.

  The decision already reached by the Allies made this unacceptable. Caulaincourt had to return and tell Napo­leon so. This aroused in him a renewed burst of energy and fierce determination to fight to the bitter end. Orders were issued in all directions to prepare anew for a march on Paris.

  Talleyrand received news of this in the middle of the night. The Provisional Government of five now held its sessions on the ground floor of the mansion; die first floor was occupied by the Czar and his entourage; so Roger had had to move up to an attic. Going up to it, the Prince woke Roger, told him what was about to happen and said:

  'Mon ami, I ask one more service of you. Go to Napo­leon. If you tell him what you have recently seen in Paris with your own eyes, he will believe you. Tell him that Schwarzenberg has one hundred and forty thousand troops surrounding the city. That Marmont's men are now fraternising with those of his enemies and will take up arms against him. That the National Guard here now wear the White Cockade. That if he carries out his insane plan to march on Paris it will mean civil war. In your dis­suading him from entering on further hostilities lies our one hope now of saving many thousand lives.'

  Reluctantly Roger consented. It was getting on for three months since he had seen Napoleon, so he no longer had to pretend to acute lameness, and had gradually given up aids to walking, using now only occasionally a stick for the sake of appearances. In the early hours of the morn­ing he set off in a light barouche for Fontainebleau, and arrived there soon after seven o'clock.

  Napoleon was still asleep in bed, so Roger breakfasted in the headquarters Mess, simply telling old acquaintances who were there that, having recovered his health, he had come to offer his services: a plausible lie of which he felt ashamed, but it was readily accepted by his sadly de­pressed companions.

  It was half-past nine before he was at last shown in to the presence. Napoleon's pale face was drawn with worry, and his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep. He greeted Roger cordially and was eager to hear the latest news from Paris, but said that he was about to re­ceive his Marshals, so that must wait until later.

  A few minutes afterwards those of his paladins who remained with him were ushered in: Berthier, Ney, Oudinot, Lefebvre and Macdonald. With them were Caulaincourt, who had striven so desperately to secure an acceptable peace for-him, and his ex-Foreign Minist
er, Marat, Duc de Bassano.

  Once more animated by enthusiasm he spoke to them of the coming campaign. He would lead the way in per­son at the head of his devoted Imperial Guard, which still numbered nine thousand men. He had a new plan. They would strike south, by-pass Schwarzenberg's Austrians round Paris, march to the Loire, then join up with the armies of Suchct and Soult. His own sixty thousand to­gether with their troops would again give him two hundred thousand men.

  His audience heard him out in gloomy silence. Then they began to upbraid him for demanding further sacri­fices in a cause now completely lost. Macdonald, who had just arrived with his weary corps, said, 'Our horses can go no further, we have not enough ammunition left for a single skirmish, and no means of obtaining more.'

  Others declared that to continue the fight would result in civil war, and that now he had been deposed as Emperor he had no right to demand their allegiance.

  At that he burst out furiously, 'You want repose! You are seeking peace for your own ease, but the army is still loyal and will obey me.'

  'No,' retorted Ney bluntly. 'It will obey its com­manders.'

  At that Napoleon gave way in despair. The Marshals trooped out of the room and Roger went with them. He had seen enough to know that anything he had meant to say was now redundant. The attitude of the Marshals made it clear that they would no longer lead their men into battle; so Napoleon was finished. With these welcome tidings he returned to Paris.

  On that same day, April 6th, Talleyrand submitted to the Chamber a Constitutional Charter, which was duly adopted. It summoned to the throne Louis Stanislas Xavier, brother of the late King, on his swearing to adhere to the constitutional rights and liberties of the people, con­tained in the document.

  After further negotiations with the Allies concerning conditions, Napoleon signed an abdication in accordance with their wishes. He was to keep the title of Emperor, but—at the insistence of the Czar, in preference to various other places suggested—exiled to the island of Elba with his own guard of four hundred—later increased to one thousand—troops. The Empress was to be given three Italian duchies, and her son would bear the title of Duke of Parma, that being the largest of the three. An annual income of two million francs was to be divided equally between Napoleon and Marie Louise and two and a half million francs allotted to the other Bonapartes between them.

  Louis XVIII, then fifty-nine years of age, was immensely fat and severely afflicted with gout. Just at this time he was suffering so greatly from a bout that it was impossible for him to leave England. In consequence it was arranged that his brother, the Comte d'Artois, should enter Paris as his representative and Lieutenant General of the Kingdom on April 12th. The ratification of the Treaty of Fontainebleau, as Napoleon's abdication was termed, was fixed for the 11th.

  Roger, relaxed and happy now that peace had at last been restored after all these years, was greatly looking forward to getting home and henceforth leading a life of carefree ease. But he decided to stay on for a week or so in Paris, to witness the entry of the Comte d'Artois and join in the celebrations of the Restoration.

  He was not destined to do so. On the 9th Lord Castlereagh arrived to sign the Treaty on behalf of Britain, on the 11th. That night he attended a reception given by the Czar at Talleyrand's. On seeing Roger he came up to him and said, 'Before I left London the Duchess of Kew came to see me. She had reason to believe that I should find you here, and asked me, if I did, to give you this letter.'

  Having thanked the Foreign Minister, Roger tore the envelope open. It contained only a brief note :

  'Roger my Heart,

  'I am distraught with worry. I have reason to believe both Susan and Charles have fallen into evil hands and are in great peril. I beg you, by your love for me to hasten to my assistance without a moments delay.

  'Ever your Georgina’

  Half an hour later, in one of Talleyrand's coaches, drawn by six horses, Roger was on his way to Calais.

  23

  Lost, Stolen or Strayed

  The speed with which the coach covered the one hundred and fifty miles to Calais served no useful purpose, because when Roger reached the port a storm was raging. News of Napoleon's surrender had reached the city two days earlier and now that the war was over Roger had no need to seek out a smuggler; so had the weather been even moderate any skipper would have been willing to run him across the Straits for a few gold pieces. But a fierce wind, coupled with a Spring tide, rendered any attempt to cross the Channel suicidal.

  Angry and intensely worried, he drove to the best inn, ate a belated breakfast; then, not having slept during his journey, went straight to bed. When he woke late in the afternoon his mind immediately resumed the futile specu­lations with which it had been plagued all through the night.

  What could be the trouble that had caused Georgina to send for him so urgently? Into whose hands had Susan and Charles fallen? At first, the coupling of their names had puzzled him, because he had believed Charles to be with Wellington's army somewhere in south-western France. But only through Charles could Georgina have learned that from the Pyrenees he had returned to Paris at Talleyrand's request, and so might be found through him by Lord Castlereagh. Charles could have sent her that information in a letter, but it seemed more probable that, for some reason, he had gone to England. But why should the two young people be in peril ? And from whom, or what?

  In vain Roger racked his brains. The answer to this mystery could be found only across the Channel, and one glance through the window showed that while he slept there had been no improvement in the weather.

  It was not until the afternoon of the following day, the 11th, that die sea subsided to an oily swell. Regardless of price, Roger had already arranged for a yacht, said to be the fastest in the harbour, to take him over, and the wind being favourable it arrived off Dover in the early hours of the morning. But the customs men at Dover having for so long had no dealings with French vessels, Roger's land­ing was delayed until, by threats of reporting this obstruc­tion to the Admiralty, a senior official had been got out of bed and taken responsibility for his being allowed to come ashore. By the time he had roused an innkeeper, hired a coach and been driven to London it was well past mid­day.

  Feeling certain that, having sent for him, Georgina would not be in the country but hopefully awaiting his arrival in London, he had himself driven straight to Kew House. He proved right in that, and was shown up to her. Dishevelled and unshaven as he was she gave a cry of joy when he entered her boudoir, ran forward, threw her arms about him and burst into tears.

  'There, there, my sweet,' he soothed her, clasping her to him. 'I would have been here two days since, but for the accursed weather. Tell me now, what has occurred to cause you such distress?'

  "Tis Susan and Charles,' she sobbed. 'They are both become Satanists.'

  'Oh, come!' he expostulated. 'That is more than I can credit.'

  "Tis so,' she insisted. 'There is no other explanation for their conduct.'

  Putting an arm round her waist he led her to a sofa, pulled her down beside him and said, 'I beg you, my love, calm yourself and tell me all from the begin­ning.'

  Dabbing at her eyes with a scrap of lace handkerchief, Georgina drew a deep breath, then said more quietly, "Tis all the fault of that little vixen, Jemima, Maureen Luggala's daughter. I could kill her. Soon after Charles went to the war she and Susan became bosom friends. When we were in London they went everywhere together. Scarce a day passed without their seeing each other. The girl had good manners, an amusing if somewhat bitter wit, and her name had never been linked with any scandal, so I made no objection to their friendship. Then in February Lady Luggala decided to return to her home in Dublin for a while, and invited Susan to go over on a visit. To pleasure Susan I had had Jemima to stay both at Stillwaters and Newmarket, so 'twas only a return of hospitality, and Susan had never been to Ireland. I agreed to her going with them.

  'The visit was to have been for a fortnight, but early i
n March Susan wrote to me that she was enjoying herself so greatly in Dublin that she wished to stay on a while longer. I replied that she could, but must be back by the middle of the mouth, to choose stuffs and have her clothes made for the coming season. She replied, again postpon­ing her return. I wrote insisting that she should be back by the 24th. Then, to my amazement, she defied me and calmly stated that 'twas her intention to pass the summer in Ireland.

  'On the day that I received her missive, Charles arrived unexpectedly from France. The Duke had sent him home with despatches describing d'Angouleme's enthusiastic reception in Bordeaux. Naturally he was upset by Susan's behaviour and wrote to her himself. A reply came four days later, but not from Susan. It was from Lady Luggala, and when we read it we were both amazed and horrified.

  'She blamed herself bitterly for not having taken more serious notice of the way in which the two girls had been spending much of their time. They had become interested in mesmerism and were regularly attending meetings of a society to do with the occult. Susan had said nothing to her of my letters telling her she must come home, and she had been happy to have her stay on. Then, when she learned what the girls had been doing she had forbade them to go to further meetings. To her utter consterna­tion they then revealed to her that they had both been initiated and had become witches themselves.'

  'God's death!' Roger exclaimed. ‘I no longer wonder at finding you in such a state.'

  'But even that is not the worst,' Georgina began to sob again. 'There was a violent quarrel, the girls refused to listen to reason. They packed their things and, although Maureen Luggala did her best to prevent them, they left the house.'

  'What, to go to this witch?'

  'One can only suppose so. But that is not all. When we read Maureen's letter, Charles was distraught. He left immediately for Ireland, to go in search of Susan and bring her back.'

  'That must have been three weeks ago. Surely by now he would have traced the girls. What news has he sent you of his endeavours to do so ?'