by Steven Neil
God bless you
Your loving daughter
Eliza
***
In March, Lord Normanby invites Harriet to a ball at the embassy. Louis Napoleon is otherwise detained, as seems so often the case these days, and Normanby finds her an alternative dancing partner.
‘May I introduce Captain Trelawney?’ he says.
‘Good evening, Captain. How lovely to meet you.’
‘And for me to meet you. I have been most anxious to make your acquaintance.’
Clarence Trelawney is tall, angular, with curly black hair over a close-shaven, high-cheeked, blue-eyed face. He wears a beautifully tailored Austrian hussar’s uniform. Harriet guesses she might give him a few years in age. She thinks he has a rather weak mouth, but there is no doubting the general view that he is a dashing sort of fellow. He is attentive throughout the evening and as carriages arrive, he asks if he might call on her. He expects he will be in Paris more often in the future, he says.
***
Louis Napoleon receives a visitor in his new apartments in the rue de Duras, in touching distance of the Élysée Palace. Mocquard assures Princess Mathilde that her cousin is not available for visitors, but she ignores him and bursts into the inner room. Louis is in front of a long mirror attending to his hair with one hand and adjusting his sash with the other.
‘Every inch the Emperor,’ she says.
‘If it is the will of the people,’ he says.
‘The people. Of course, the people. If they clamour for you, you will not deny them. It is your duty.’
‘It is my destiny.’
Louis Napoleon appears master of all he surveys, but he is not immune to advice and his cousin, Princess Mathilde, is never short of an opinion.
‘You are not serious about this woman?’ she says. ‘You cannot be Emperor and marry a common prostitute.’
‘I will not have you speak about Miss Howard in that way. In any event, I have made no decision on the matter. I can see there would be complications, but I owe her a great deal. I have all but made promises.’
‘Then you must break them.’
‘It is not so simple.’
‘The future of France is at stake here. The second empire is within your grasp. History will judge you harshly if you falter when the prize is so close.’
‘I thank you for your interest.’
***
As Nathaniel Strode hinted, Lord Cowley takes over from Lord Normanby as the British ambassador in France by mid-year. Normanby is taking a break before heading south to take up a similar post in Italy. Cowley is returning to the post he held previously when the monarchy still ruled.
‘I must brief you on Harriet Howard,’ says Normanby.
‘Ah yes. The English Empress,’ says Cowley.
‘By God, not you as well.’
‘I’m sorry. It is all the talk in London.’
‘That is as may be. It won’t happen, I can assure you. Despite what you might think, that would not suit us at all. Fortunately, Louis Napoleon has other plans.’
***
Before he departs Paris, Lord Normanby decides he should show his hand with Harriet – up to a point, of course.
‘We have worked well together, wouldn’t you say?’
‘You have been kind beyond measure.’
‘I thought I might take this opportunity to mark your card, as it were. Politics are in a most awkward state at the moment in England. We have had a good run of stability. Change is the order of the day now, though.’
‘What are the consequences for me?’
‘It is hard to predict. Cowley is a sensible enough chap and he knows the ropes here in Paris. I have hopes he will leave things as they are. It would not do to make waves. Louis Napoleon is proving an honest ally and we have reasonable expectations this will continue, provided he doesn’t overreach himself.’
‘And my role?’
‘I think you should let things take their course. You are under no specific obligation any longer. Francis looks after you very well, I believe. Mr Strode manages the finances most adroitly and Louis is paying his debts.’
‘Are you saying I am free to do as I wish now?’
‘That would be too simple, I’m afraid. We would have to admit that you have not been free, which, of course, we could not do. It is better if you let things emerge. Events are running your way. All I would say is that, if you were to be married, I think that would finally sever the link with your role here. The uncertainty in England is in your favour.’
‘May I press you for some more advice?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘I believe I must make some decisions, from what you say. There are suitors, as I’m sure you know.’
‘I do.’
‘Would I be right in thinking that a marriage to Louis would not be looked on favourably?’
‘You would be correct. That would be a step too far. My own feeling is that he will be guided by ambition and you will be guided by emotion. I don’t think it would be good for either of you.’
‘How would you advise me on Francis?’
‘Francis? Well, I think that would also be a mistake. He is rather besotted with you, but his prospects are limited. He has been too long out of the mainstream of the military. He will need to buy any further promotion and his finances are in a parlous state. I say this as a friend. I like Francis, but he is not for you. There is also the small matter of him already having a wife, although the poor soul doesn’t even know him now.’
‘And Captain Trelawney?’
‘I don’t know enough about his situation to pronounce upon it. He comes from a very good family, I understand.’
‘But you would not be against it?’
‘No.’
‘And a marriage would be advisable?’
‘Yes.’
She plays along with this. She knows something is going on, but she cannot quite put her finger on it. She is being pushed towards Trelawney and away from Louis. She is used to being manipulated, but usually the pretext is clear. Here, it is not. She tries to get something out of Mocquard, but he will not be drawn. She prays that her trysts with Jem are undiscovered, but she cannot be sure. Her occasional, and more public, appointments with Clarence Trelawney, will, she hopes, put any interested watchers off the scent. Something tells her that she has not heard the last of Nicholas Sly and she knows she must stay on her guard. Strode has promised he will find out what he can and she awaits the news with a sense of foreboding.
***
As the year draws to a close, France sees the long-expected official crowning of Louis Napoleon as Emperor Napoleon III. Lord Palmerston sends him a telegram, congratulating him. Not everyone shares the enthusiasm.
The Spectator, Friday 3rd December 1852
FRANCE AND EMPIRE
On the 2nd December, Louis Napoleon “accepted” the Empire of France, as on the day of which Thursday was the anniversary at which he laid violent hands on the capital and assumed unlawful power. From this time, therefore, the conspirator and usurper is wrapped in the imperial purple; and deference will be claimed to the “majesty” of France, self-intruded among the Sovereigns of Europe. History will never forget, indeed, that on the 2nd December 1851 Louis Napoleon subverted that constitution which he had sworn to maintain; that against the capital of his own country, which had readmitted him from exile, he secretly arrayed a traitor army, and that the hand which snatched arbitrary power was reddened with the blood of French citizens, of the unoffending and the gentle as well as the strong and the resisting. But France is destined to undergo a second subjugation by Corsica and in “accepting” the Empire, Louis Napoleon, with matchless countenance, declares that it is conferred on him by the “logic of the people”.
The Times announces that the Allied Powers have so far yielded to Louis Napoleon, that they will recognise him as Emperor de facto if he will accept the treaty obligations of 1815 and, in his speech on assuming the diadem, he formally declares that he accepts the liabilities of past governments, condescending not to date his reign from 1815 but from 1852. The Allied Powers, however, refuse to recognise him as “Napoleon the Third”. He has nonetheless assumed the title. In this inflexibility, he does not depart from his usual line of action. In his short but full career, inflexible tenacity of purpose is his chief characteristic. He may have seemed to yield, but only in semblance, to the necessity of the hour. He consented to be a private citizen, asseverated that he wanted no more; he consented to be president for four years, swore to it; he consented again to be president for ten years; in one year he consents to be Emperor; realising that which before the beginning he sketched in his “Idees Napoleoniennes” and which has never been absent from his mind, never abandoned, never yielded through all those oaths and protestations. He only bides his time. Meanwhile, the other powers wait and watch – they cannot trust.
Twenty
For Services Rendered
Paris, France
1853
As the new year begins, President Louis Napoleon Bonaparte is safely confirmed as Emperor Napoleon III of the second French Empire. The so-called referendum of December 1852 gives him virtually unlimited executive power and elects him for a minimum period of a further ten years. The year is also an auspicious one for Harriet Howard. She begins her thirtieth year, having experienced more in those years than many would achieve in a long lifetime. Relations with Louis Napoleon have reached a sort of equilibrium. They still enjoy each other’s company on an occasional basis, but talk of marriage promises has ebbed and Harriet already knows that it will not happen. She is relieved, in part, but also piqued at the thought of someone else taking her place on Louis’s arm. Martin seems settled at boarding school alongside Louis’s sons, Eugene and Louis Alexandre. Harriet has the three children at home at the rue du Cirque with her every other weekend. They all call her Mama. Awkward questions from Martin have abated, for the time being. Jem Mason and Tom Olliver are installed in comfortable apartments on the rue de Lutece for their French forays and Harriet is a frequent visitor there, although she still takes care about when she visits and she never follows the same route twice.
***
When news comes, via Jean Mocquard, that Louis wishes Harriet to undertake a mission on his behalf back in England, she happily accepts. It seems that there is some blackmail afoot, aimed at the Emperor, and she is asked to use her contacts in London to ascertain the source and arrange for reparations, such that the threat will go away. It is suggested that Nathaniel Strode might be a useful ally in England and that Mocquard can help her and act as a travelling companion. Plans are made and Harriet looks forward to seeing London again and, perhaps, finding time to visit her parents in Norfolk.
There is frost overnight and a sparkling clear sky as the carriage and four rattles to a halt in front of the apartments on rue du Cirque. Harriet peers down from her window to see the blurred shapes of Mocquard and the coachman stamping their feet and flapping their arms. She clears a hole in the condensation on the window glass and sees the breath of the horses, billowing up like small clouds. A brazier glows dull beside them. She is soon installed in the carriage, wreathed in blankets and furs. Mocquard taps his cane on the seat panel behind him and they are away.
They make good progress in the first part of the journey. The roads are quiet and the mist along the Seine gives way to bright sunlight. By the time the towers of the cathedral at Rouen come into view, the weather turns and grey skies roll in. The cathedral is visible from many miles away to the east, but it is only when Harriet steps down from the carriage and looks up at the west front from the Place de la Cathedrale that the full majesty of the towers strikes her. She stands and stares, unable to take in the sheer, glorious intricacy of the gables, windows, statues, turrets, screens and soaring spires. Mocquard gives her all the time he dares, but there is a ship to board and they still have a distance to travel. He steps in and whispers at her side. She hurries into the cathedral, lights a candle and soon rejoins him.
‘Will we have time on our way back?’ she says.
‘Of course.’
The second part of the journey proves uneventful and Le Havre is reached in good time. At the port, the weather sets in. A light drizzle gives way to heavy rain and by mid-afternoon, the sky is alive with lightning. Mocquard makes enquiries and, as the rain blows in sideways, it becomes clear that their ship is most unlikely to sail. Ever resourceful, he books rooms at the Lion d’Or.
‘It is as well to be prepared,’ he says.
‘Was this forecast?’ she says.
‘I am not sure.’
‘No.’
As dusk falls, they accept the inevitable.
‘The captain tells me we should be able to sail tomorrow,’ he says.
‘Then we should rest. Until tomorrow.’
‘Goodnight.’
Harriet spends a restless night. She dreams. Recently, she is in the habit of dreaming about falling. She stands at the top of a tall tower; a man comes towards her; she is pushed over the edge of a crumbling parapet. Her mouth opens in a scream, but no sound emerges. In the morning, she wakes early. There is no one around in the hotel, so she walks down to a café, frequented by fishermen, near the quay. A post-chaise clatters past and the coachman throws out a bundle of newspapers. Glancing down, she catches sight of a headline on the front page.
La Presse, Friday 21st January 1853
LOUIS NAPOLEON ENGAGED TO COUNTESS OF TEBA
We are pleased to announce the engagement of Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor Napoleon III of France, to Maria Eugenie Ignacia Agustina de Palafox y Kirkpatrick, Countess de Teba of Spain, the daughter of Don Cipriano de Palafox y Portocarrero and Maria Manuela Kirkpatrick de Closbourn y de Grevigne. Don Cipriano is Count of Teba and Montijo, Marquis of Algava and Duke of Pearanda, and fought with distinction alongside Emperor Napoleon I in the Peninsular Wars. It is expected that the marriage will take place in Paris within the month.
***
When she returns to the hotel, she enters the breakfast room. Mocquard looks up. She tosses the paper onto the table in front of him, sending his coffee cup spilling towards him.
‘That was an unnecessary adventure, was it not?’ she says.
‘I must admit it. I am sorry.’
‘I know you must do your master’s bidding. Let us say no more about it, Jean. There is nothing holding us here now. Shall we go back to Paris?’
‘Certainly.’
They take the return to Paris in silence. Harriet is lost in her thoughts and Mocquard knows that nothing he can say will help. The truth, however, is that Harriet is finally free of a relationship she never sought and never relished. She is annoyed because she has been deceived. The more she thinks about it, the more she realises she should be relieved. They drive through Rouen without stopping. When she reaches the rue du Cirque, it is soon clear that her apartments have been, albeit discreetly, ransacked. Every drawer has been opened, every wardrobe inspected. Everything has been restored after a fashion, although some important letters will never be seen again. It is a clumsy artifice. She knows exactly what has happened.
***
Of course, the great British public loves a royal wedding, even if it is between a Frenchman and a Spaniard. The Illustrated London News produces an “Imperial Marriage Supplement” to their latest edition, complete with a full-length image of the Empress in a wedding gown. Some unkind commentators say it looks more like a wedding cake than a wedding dress, tiered as it is, and there can be no mistaking the resemblance to a meringue. On the inside pages, the reader is treated to the sight of head-and-shoulders images of the esteemed couple.
Louis Napoleon wears the laurel crown of Caesar, without a trace of irony, and Countess Eugenie, it must be said, looks like a lady who would brook no nonsense in an argument. Everyone hopes they will have a long and harmonious relationship.
***
On his return from honeymoon, the Emperor Napoleon calls on Harriet in her apartments.
‘I wish you great happiness,’ she says.
‘I would like to explain…’
‘That may be so, but I am going to deny you that opportunity. I will not listen. If there was explanation to be made, you have had ample time.’
‘I don’t want us to be on bad terms with each other…’
‘Then we shall not. I beg you not to speak of the matter again.’
‘As you wish. I am, of course, greatly in your debt and I wish to make some amends.’
‘As you wish, sir. I ask for nothing.’
‘That is understood. You have always been most gracious. I will come to the point. You will be the Comtesse de Beauregard with immediate effect. There is a château and land at La Celle-Saint-Cloud, which goes with the title. It will need some work to bring it up to the standard you deserve. Funds will be made available. Mocquard will see to everything.’
‘So I am to be bought off.’
‘I hope you will not see it that way.’
‘I flatter myself that I am always able to see things clearly, for what they are and for what they are not.’
‘I cannot answer to that. There is one more thing. Martin will become the Comte de Béchevêt in due course. I will help him in his life if he ever needs it.’
‘I understand.’
‘If there is ever anything I can do for you, I hope you will let me know.’
‘You will not hear from me on that subject.’
‘I hope we shall still be friends.’
‘Friends? How will this work out exactly? You have a new wife with a reputation for jealousy. Your cousin, Princess Mathilde, briefs against me at every opportunity and makes her dislike for me plain. There is a campaign in the newspapers to erase me from history.’