by Steven Neil
‘I could not have put it better myself.’
‘Monsieur Mocquard has taught me well.’
Her time with Mathilde reminds Harriet of her friendship with Lady Blessington. Like Margaret, Mathilde is witty and charming, although that would not be immediately apparent from her outward demeanour. But Harriet does not know Mathilde well enough to confide in her. She wants someone to whom she can tell everything. She wants to tell the truth: about Sly, scheming in his office in London; about Trelawney, hiding from his creditors in exile in Italy; and about Jem Mason, prevaricating as only he can. She decides that, for the moment at least, she must keep up appearances.
‘And you, Harriet. How is Beauregard?’
‘Beauregard is a fine property. There is much to do there.’
‘And your handsome husband, Trelawney?’
‘He has gone to Italy on business. I expect he will be back soon.’
‘And your son, Martin. What will he do? He must be almost grown up now.’
‘He continues with his education,’ she says, aware that the conversation, at least on her side, is sagging under the weight of half truths. ‘He enjoys his work with horses. He has a talent with them. But I think it really too soon to say. Young people can change so much at that age. He is quite a strong-willed character. They say he takes after me.’
It is a stilted conversation and Mathilde is sensitive enough to read the signs and change tack. She relates the story going around, that Lord Hertford has paid the Comtesse de Castiglione one million francs to spend the night with him. Harriet wonders what Louis will think of this when he hears it.
‘They say he got his money’s worth,’ says Mathilde. ‘She was in bed for a week, recovering.’
Harriet laughs politely. She finds that she cannot find too much amusement in such tales, given her own experience. The conversation drifts and eventually stutters to a halt. Harriet says her goodbyes and returns to La Celle.
When she reaches there, another message arrives, from Louis Napoleon. His latest tone is pleading. She deduces that his other mistresses are not pleasing him and that Eugenie continues to refuse him access to her bedchamber. He may be the conquering hero in public, but in private he is not. Harriet sends her usual reply.
***
Lord Cowley and Francis Mountjoy-Martin meet at the British Embassy on the rue Faubourg Saint-Honore for an update on events. Harriet is first on the agenda.
‘Well, I didn’t see that coming. Did you?’ says Cowley.
‘I am afraid Trelawney has form. It is not the first time, it seems. Harriet has been hoodwinked. Of course, hindsight is a wonderful thing.’
‘Unfortunate. Hope you weren’t involved with that business at the bank. Very bad show all round.’
‘Thankfully, no. I gather Lord Palmerston says he will bring in new laws to make sure this can’t happen again. Banks will not be allowed to fail.’
‘He is rather prone to the grand statement.’
‘Is there any help we can give Harriet? I understand her circumstances are much reduced.’
‘I am sorry, but Miss Howard will need to make her own way now. She is no longer our responsibility.’
The conversation moves to Louis Napoleon. Cowley has news of a change of heart in London.
‘The Emperor is on borrowed time now, I think. Palmerston believes he will go the way of King Louis Philippe and become unstable. The talk of assassination plots has rattled him; there is no doubt of that. He wants to appease the Italians, but the price may be war with Austria. We could not support that. News reaches us, from the usual sources, that Empress Eugenie is making her presence felt and becoming involved in politics. An unexpected development.’
‘Will a point come when we can no longer support him at all?’
‘It may. At the moment, he is the least worst candidate rather than the best candidate. What happens next is in the balance.’
Finally, they discuss the new Treaty of Paris, signalling the end of Britain’s war with the Persians.
‘Let’s hope we will finally realise that meddling in the affairs of countries where we are not welcome is a recipe for disaster,’ says Cowley.
‘Indeed.’
‘Too many lives have been lost.’
‘And for little gain. At least we will always have India.’
***
Strode sends word that he has secured a credit arrangement, which tides Harriet over until the end of the year, but he warns that this will be finite and that something more substantial and long term must be put in place. Economies will be required, he says, but that alone will not be enough. Jean Mocquard arranges a place for Martin at a boarding school, near his family home, where he can keep an eye on him. Leave the details to me, he tells Harriet. We can discuss it later. She is grateful for some respite at least, but she cannot but recognise that she has brought this situation on herself. Trelawney, far from being a solution, has made things a lot worse. How could she have been so foolish?
***
Tom Olliver brings horses over for the races at Longchamp, the new racecourse in the Bois de Boulogne, and calls on Harriet at La Celle, where he stables the horses to break their journey. There is plenty of room. Most of the horses acquired by Trelawney are reclaimed by their former owners, due to non-payment. The rest go to a dispersal sale, where they make a fraction of their value. Tom is making a great success of his training career and the contrast with Harriet’s own situation is stark. They talk about hunting and racing gossip and mutual friends, although Jem Mason is not mentioned.
‘Things have gone badly, Tom,’ she says.
‘So I hear. I am sorry for it. Can I do anything?’
‘I don’t think so. Strode will be my saviour if anyone can.’
‘If it is a question of money, I will see…’
‘No, Tom. I must see this through myself, whatever the cost.’
When Tom leaves, he goes over his conversation with Harriet. It is clear that while she puts a brave face on things, the outlook is bleak. Surely something can be done. There must be someone, somewhere who can help. He arrives back in England determined to come up with a plan, but rather unclear about what it might be.
Twenty-Five
Retribution
London, England
La Celle-Saint-Cloud, France
1858
Morning Chronicle, Thursday 18th February 1858
THE ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE NAPOLEON
THE THIRD
Indictment against the prisoners Orsini, Rudio, Gomez, Pieri and Bernard.
The trial of the prisoners charged with the attempt to assassinate the Emperor of the French stands fixed to commence today before the Assize Court of the Seine. We place before our readers a translation excerpt of the important document:
Act d’Accusation
The Procureur-General declares that the following facts appear from the documents in the instruction: A new attempt has been made on the life of the Emperor. His Majesty was not injured, but many victims were struck down around him; no consideration restrains the fury of demagogic passion.
The pistol and the poniard no longer suffice for them; these instruments of murder have been succeeded by machines designed and prepared with infernal skill. A band of foreign assassins, coming in the last instance from England, whose generous hospitality is used in furtherance of the most execrable designs, undertook the task of throwing at the Emperor these new instruments of destruction. To attack his sacred person, the assassins did not shrink from devoting to death an august princess, known to us by the good she does, nor from scattering death at random amid a crowd of spectators. But Providence watched over the country. Providence has preserved the precious life of the Emperor, as also that of the noble companion associated with his dangers and has permitted that the direct authors o
f the attempt should be immediately arrested and brought to justice, to answer for a crime directed not less against the greatness and prosperity of France than the life of the sovereign, whom France has chosen.
On Thursday January 14th, their Majesties were to be present at the Opera. The cortege arrived at about half past eight. The first carriage, occupied by officers of the Emperor’s household had passed the peristyle of the theatre; it was followed by an escort of Lancers of the Imperial Guard; which preceded the carriage in which were their Majesties and General Roguet. At this moment, three successive explosions, like the report of cannon, were heard at intervals of a few seconds. The first in front of the imperial carriage and in the second rank of the escort of Lancers; the second nearer to the carriage and a little to the left; and the third under the carriage itself. Amid the general confusion, the first thought of all those present, who had not been too cruelly struck, was to proclaim by their unanimous acclamations that the Emperor and Empress had been preserved. Heaven had, indeed, most visibly extended its protection to them, for the danger from which they had escaped was frightfully proved by the scene around them. On a pavement inundated with blood, there lay a large number of wounded people, of whom several were so mortally. It has been judicially ascertained that 156 persons were struck and the number of wounds according to medical reports amounted to 511. In this long list of victims were comprised 21 women, 11 children, 13 Lancers, 11 Gardes de Paris and 31 police agents.
***
Lord Palmerston summons Lord Cowley to London at short notice. They meet at Number 10 Downing Street in the small dining room. Palmerston has already resigned as prime minister, but Lord Derby graciously allows him to continue with his meetings.
‘This is a fine mess,’ says Palmerston. ‘Louis Napoleon nearly manages to get himself killed and we get the blame for harbouring the assassins. Trust the damned French to come up with that one. What is going on?’
‘I am afraid relations with the Emperor are at a low ebb. The Empress is no friend to Britain, according to Mocquard. I hesitate to say this, but one might think we backed the wrong horse after all. Without Miss Howard’s sage presence, we struggle for influence.’
‘How very helpful of you to point that out.’
***
Spring finds the Château de Beauregard and the whole estate at La Celle-Saint-Cloud in a dilapidated condition. Weeds and brambles flourish unrestricted in the paddocks, rabbits multiply in the overgrown ditches and hedgerows, and moss grows between the cobbles in the yards. Ivy is rampant and walls crumble, roofs rot and fences fall under its insidious progress. It is astonishing how quickly nature reclaims wildness from order. A passer-by would probably pronounce the château derelict. Inside the main house, rooms are closed off, mildew forms and dust gathers. Martin arrives back at La Celle, having been expelled from boarding school. He grows wild with his surroundings. He is just fifteen. Harriet tries teaching him herself, but it makes things worse: his behaviour is unruly and they argue. He is more and more unhappy with her evasion. Why won’t she say who his father is? Why is it so difficult?
‘Were you so much of a whore you couldn’t tell?’ he says.
For the first time in his life, Martin feels the force of a blow to the head from Harriet, who launches at him with all her strength. He is dumbstruck. For the second time in her life, Harriet feels her anger completely out of control. She rushes to her bedchamber in tears. She shakes so much she grips the bedpost to steady herself.
***
By the time Francis Mountjoy-Martin comes to the Château de Beauregard for a rare visit, Harriet is not in the best mood.
‘More ribbon, Francis. How nice,’ she says.
‘You are a horror to me, Harriet. I do not deserve it.’
‘You are a colonel now. The world is yours to command. Will you go abroad and make your fortune?’
‘If you will come with me.’
‘I am a married woman. I have responsibilities.’
‘Do not play games with me, Harriet. Your marriage is a sham and a disaster. You are in grave financial difficulty. You forget that I know your situation as well as anyone. And I have eyes to see what is happening here. I have come with a very good offer. You should not dismiss me lightly.’
‘I am listening.’
‘I am to sail for India. There have been some difficulties with the locals and we are technically at war with the Chinese over the supply of opium. The government will take over the East India Company and I will play a significant role in the transfer of our armed forces. There will be commercial opportunities at the same time. It is a chance for me to start again. It could be a chance for you.’
‘Only you could describe the Indian rebellion as “difficulties with the locals”.’
‘It is in the nature of our newspapers to exaggerate things. It will all blow over.’
‘You will forgive me if I don’t take your word for it?’
‘Please think about it. You will never be free, here or in England. Sly does not threaten you physically, but he has a grudge. He means to take you down financially. Even Strode cannot save you.’
‘You are right about one thing. I will never be free while Sly lives, wherever I am in the world. And neither will those who are dearest to me. Running away to India is not the answer for me, Francis.’
‘Very well. I will not ask again. I will say goodbye.’
***
Nathaniel Strode visits La Celle again. Harriet’s money problems escalate and Strode’s tables, columns and diagrams only magnify the scale of the disaster.
‘I need your help and advice,’ she says. ‘Is Francis right?’
‘Francis is, unfortunately, right that your finances remain unresolved, with no solution in sight. I cannot trace the problems directly to Sly, but I think it is a reasonable assumption that he is behind it. He is a bitter man, from what I can deduce. He is not acting for Her Majesty’s Government now. That I do know. But he does have a grudge against you. Francis is quite correct about that.’
‘Is there news of Trelawney? Can anything be salvaged there?’
‘I am afraid not. There is no news and his family is proving unhelpful.’
‘I am feeling as if everything is against me.’
‘You must not lose heart. The tide will turn in time.’
‘Then I must place my faith in you.’
***
She thinks things cannot get any worse, but they do. Martin reaches his sixteenth birthday in August and disappears. All the rooms and outbuildings are searched, but there is no trace. She convinces herself that he has been abducted. What other explanation could there be? Weeks go by without news. She imagines him lying in a ditch somewhere. Eventually, he is found at Dieppe, trying to stow away on a ship to Dover. It is Mocquard who goes to him and brings him back.
‘What did you hope to achieve?’ asks Mocquard.
‘I just wanted to get as far away from my mother as I could.’
***
An unexpected piece of information brings Nathaniel Strode back to Harriet sooner than planned.
‘I have news about Nicholas Sly. He is dead. There is no mistake. Someone has exacted retribution.’
‘Why do you say that? What were the circumstances?’ she says.
‘He was found with his throat cut in an alleyway in Cheapside.’
‘Perhaps he strayed into the wrong place at the wrong time.’
‘That is possible, of course, but he was not robbed. The police found money in his pockets and rings on his fingers.’
‘I have wished for this, but it is strange. I don’t know how I should feel.’
‘Emotion is complicated, I have no doubt, although I try to avoid it myself. But there are practical implications. We can begin the process of unravelling the financial restrictions. If we are right
that Sly was behind them, the doors should begin to swing open again.’
‘Is there any clue to the killer’s identity?’
‘No. There was no weapon and no sign of a struggle. In short, no clues. A professional job. Apparently, one policeman described the cut as having “military precision”. A single cut with a sharp blade, rather than a jagged knife.’
‘No clues. Really?’
‘I am sure the police will do their work diligently.’
‘Of course.’
‘There will not be any official record of the death, as I understand it. Mr Sly will be recorded as “missing”.’
‘But you are sure there can be no doubt?’
‘None.’
‘Thank you.’
‘If you will excuse me, I will start work on your behalf.’
***
The year ends in confusion. The doors don’t swing open as Strode hopes. At the château, almost all the rooms are closed up. Frost etches the windows in the few habitable spaces and a blanket of snow covers the estate. There are two servants left. Furniture and stable partitions are chopped up for firewood. Strode sends money when he can, but no news, and Mocquard arrives with parcels of provisions. One morning, Harriet finds a food basket at the gatehouse, left by someone from the village. She and Martin don’t speak to each other for weeks at a time. At least she begins to sleep better. The dreams stop. In the week before Christmas, a letter arrives.
The Bell Inn
Horndon-on-the-Hill
Dearest Harriet
By the time you read this, I will be on a ship bound for the East Indies. I very much regret that you are not with me. I wanted you to know that I always loved you. I was foolish on occasions and was not always honest, but your welfare was ever my concern. I think it likely our paths will not cross again. I trust you will find happiness, as you deserve. I hope, in a small way, that I have been able to pave the way for you to be free. I am only sorry now that I did not act sooner.
Your faithful servant