The Sultan's Daughter

by Dennis Wheatley

  On the morning of the 25th, Talleyrand and Roger drove out to the former’s charming little house in the garden suburb of Passy. Old Antoine Velot and his wife Marie, who for many years had lived there as butler and cook, were overjoyed to see Roger again. He had supported them all through Talleyrand’s exile and they had looked after him while he had lived in hiding there during some of the darkest weeks of the Terror. The house brought back to him many memories of those desperate days, but also fond ones of his dead wife, Amanda, who had lived there with him for a while, and of the shock he had received on going out there unexpectedly one night to find his beautiful mistress, Athenais de Roeham-beau, occupying his wife’s bed.

  Bonaparte and Fouché arrived within a few minutes of one another and, to Talleyrand’s great relief, got on well together. In spite of the frank manner of the one and the shiftiness of the other, they were both practical men who knew what they wanted and their ideas of what should be done had much in common. By the time they were halfway through breakfast both had stated their views with a degree of frankness that made it unnecessary for Talleyrand and Roger to leave them alone together afterwards; so Roger heard the whole of their conversation.

  Fouché agreed with Talleyrand that the revolution must be brought about from within, so with apparent legality. It was, therefore, essential that Sieyès should be entirely won over. Fouché then promised to work on Sieyès with the object of making the latter’s relations with Bonaparte more cordial, while Bonaparte agreed at all events to pretend to accept Sieyés’s proposals for a new Constitution and to flatter his vanity at their future meetings.

  Before they parted, the Minister of Police displayed his usual caution. Snuffling, he said it would be ill-advised for him to give anyone, apart from Sieyès, the impression that he thought highly of Bonaparte in any other way than as a soldier; so it would be wise for them not to meet, except by chance and socially and, since Roger was one of the General’s aides-de-camp, it might arouse unwelcome comment if he were to act frequently as a go-between. Therefore for that purpose he proposed to employ, alternately with Roger, Commissioner Réal, the Chief-of-Police of the Paris District, for whose trustworthiness he could vouch. He would also give Réal a special assignment to have the Jacobin members of the Five Hundred kept under observation, with the object of obtaining advance information of any plot against Bonaparte in which they might engage.

  When Bonaparte and Fouché had left in their respective coaches, Talleyrand and Roger settled down to enjoy another glass of Grande Echézaux. The statesman savoured a mouthful of the fine wine, then smiled across the table and said:

  ‘My dear friend, we may congratulate ourselves. At last something definite has been achieved. Bonaparte has promised to butter up that idiotically vain creature, Sieyès. Fouché foresees security for himself in a triumph for Bonaparte so, although unheard and unseen, will prove our most powerful ally. At last these diverse elements are about to coalesce for a single purpose. This morning, the Corsican has committed himself. The Jacobins are powerful and ruthless. They will do their utmost to destroy him and, if the ex-sansculottes in the garrison of Paris side with them, it may prove the end of people like us. But the battle is now joined. There can be no turning back.’

  25

  The Fateful Days of Brumaire

  During the few days that followed this highly satisfactory meeting there were endless comings and goings. Only a handful of people were let into the secret that Bonaparte was now committed to play the principal role in a coup d’état, but everyone knew that an upheaval was imminent, and the little house in the Rue de la Victoire was crowded from morning to night with officers who wanted to express their loyalty to him, and others who went there hoping to find out which way the wind was blowing. Those who were in the plot—Berthier, Bruix and Murat among the senior officers then in Paris, and Talleyrand, Röederer and the Minister of Justice Cambacérès among the politicians—worked desperately hard to win him the support, ‘should he be called upon’, of doubtful elements.

  In this respect Josephine also performed prodigies. In spite of the fact that, after her release from prison at the ending of the Terror, she had become little better than a highly paid demi-mondaine, she had attained a high place in the new Society. Undoubtedly the fact that she was an aristocrat by birth and the widow of a Vicomte had been part of her attraction for Bonaparte, and he felt that by marrying her he had improved his social status. Since then she had enjoyed the added lustre of his name and, for the past three years, had been hailed everywhere as ‘Our Lady of Victories’. Moreover she was an excellent hostess, possessed great tact and charm and had the ability to make people feel that she wanted to talk only to them. In consequence, her influence over both men and women, although not obvious like that of Madame de Staël’s, was considerable, and she proved invaluable in placating people whom her husband’s abrupt manner offended.

  In her drawing room and the salons of Madame de Staël and Madame Recamier, which Roger again frequented, the talk was largely of the war and, from various conversations, he learned the reason that lay behind the marked improvement that had taken place in the past six weeks in the situation of the French Armies.

  After the Austro-Russian victory at Novi in August the two Emperors had quarrelled. Francis of Austria had maintained that, although Suvóroff commanded a Russian Army, he came under the Austrian High Command. This had given umbrage to Paul of Russia, and fuel had been added to the fire by the Allies’ capture of Turin. King Charles Emmanuel, having been driven from his capital in December, ’98, had taken refuge in his island of Sardinia. Paul instructed Suvóroff to invite him to return, and Britain fully supported Paul’s action, but Francis refused to permit it. He maintained that Charles Emmanuel, who had earlier signed a treaty with the French, had thereby become an enemy; although the fact of the matter was that Francis wanted most of northern Italy for Austria and meant to claim Piedmont as part of his indemnity.

  It was this legitimate claim by the House of Savoy to the Piedmontese territories that was later to bedevil the relations of all Europe. The immediate upshot of the quarrel had been the withdrawal of Suvóroff’s Army from Austrian control and an order from Paul that it should march through the Alps to Switzerland, there to join that of Korsakoff.

  This could have proved an excellent move for the Coalition, because the two Russian Armies, together with that of the Archduke Charles, could, by sheer weight of numbers, have overwhelmed Masséna and invaded France. But, with shortsighted selfishness, Francis had withdrawn the Austrian Army from Switzerland and ordered the Archduke to lay siege with it to cities on the Rhine occupied by the French.

  His reason for doing so was a jealous fear of Prussia. By sending an Anglo-Russian expeditionary force to Holland, the Allies had hoped to draw Prussia into the Coalition against France, the natural enemy of all Monarchies. But, with cynical disregard for the great stakes at issue, Prussia had held aloof, preferring to keep her forces intact for possible operations on the Rhine which would attract into her orbit many of the petty German Princes at the expense of Austria, and thus lead to her becoming a Power of the first rank.

  The result had been that the withdrawal of the Archduke from Switzerland had cancelled out the arrival of the Russians. Masséna, faced with no greater numbers than before, had been able to achieve his great victory over the latter. Meanwhile in Holland, two days after Bonaparte’s arrival in Paris, the Anglo-Russian force, incompetently led by the Duke of York and unsupported by the Prussians, had been compelled to sign a capitulation at Alkmar on terms that compelled its return home with its tail between its legs.

  At last, on October 29th, Bonaparte, by unstinted flattery of Sieyès, gained his goodwill and entered into a firm partnership with him. Their plan was that they should get rid of Barras, Gohier and Moulins, launch the ex-Abbé’s famous Constitution which, on the Roman model, would have Consuls for its senior officials, and nominate a President.

  But, at times of crisis,
Barras had so often suddenly re-emerged from his life of debauchery as the strong man that Sieyès was frightened of him; so the wily Talleyrand suggested that Barras be made privy to the plot and led to believe that he would retain his position more or less unchanged. This was agreed and Sieyès succeeded in winning Barras over to their plans.

  However, other considerations continued to cause the launching of the coup to hang fire. All the conspirators were aware that any tampering with the principles of the Revolution, as laid down in the existing Constitution, would arouse the fiercest opposition of the Jacobins, and among them were four senior Generals: Lefebvre who commanded the Paris garrison, the veterans Moreau and Jourdan and the fiery Bernadotte. Should any of these call on the troops to defend the ‘liberties won in the Revolution’, the conspirators might find themselves under arrest before they had time to rally their forces.

  It was thought that Lefebvre might be won over at the last minute. Moreau, so brave in battle but so hesitant in politics, was unlikely to take the lead against Bonaparte. But Jourdan well might, and the worst danger of all was Bernadotte. He had been replaced in the previous month as Minister of War by Dubois-Crancé, a sound Republican but a Moderate, who had played a leading part in bringing about Robespierre’s fall. As he was an anti-Jacobin it was thought that he would at least remain neutral. But Bernadotte was still a danger with whom to be reckoned.

  He had a strain of Moorish blood, which accounted for his dark complexion, crop of coal-black curls and hot-blooded temper. He was firmly Republican in principles and he and Bonaparte disliked one another intensely; so there were very good reasons to fear that he might attempt to wreck the coup. Twice, during these anxious days of late October and early November, he put in an appearance at the Rue de la Victoire. Twice he and Bonaparte would probably have come to blows had not Josephine poured oil on the troubled waters; but there seemed little chance of winning him over.

  Early in November Talleyrand began to prepare propaganda to be issued to the public once the coup was under way. In this Röederer, one of the elder statesmen of the Revolution, proved invaluable, as he was a most skilful and lucid writer. Together, in the Rue Taitbout, they prepared posters and leaflets which Röederer’s son, by joining a firm of printers as an apprentice, managed to get printed at night. The banker Collot put up two million francs for expenses and Ouvrard, the richest financier in Paris, promised to buy Barras’s resignation, should he refuse it when confronted with the demand that he should go.

  Meanwhile, Bonaparte shunned publicity as far as possible. When he did go out he always wore civilian clothes, and pretended that now he no longer had an active Command his only interest was in the scientific debates at the Institute. But by this time so many people were involved that it was impossible to keep secret any longer the fact that a conspiracy was afoot.

  Fouché then employed a clever stratagem to quieten the Directors at whom the coup was aimed. He gave a party to which he invited both the leading conspirators and those who were expected to oppose the coup. On entering the room Gohier innocently fell into the trap by asking jovially, ‘Well, my friend, what is the latest news?’

  Blinking his fish-like eyes, then looking away, Fouché replied, ‘There is none, except about the conspiracy.’

  Bonaparte and his friends were electrified, fearing that Fouché had had the house surrounded by his police and was about to betray and arrest them. But Gohier only laughed and said, ‘Splendid, we Directors may sleep easy in our beds as long as we have you as Minister of Police.’

  On November 6th, the two Chambers gave a banquet in honour of Bonaparte and Moreau. It was held in the Church of St. Sulpice and a great crowd assembled outside to see the notables arrive. When Bonaparte’s coach drew up they shouted ‘Peace! Peace! Give us Peace!’, as the people now always did whenever; he appeared. But he was in a surly mood and would not even wave his hand to them.

  The banquet was anything but a success. Bonaparte had brought his own food and wine from fear of being poisoned. The Republican Jourdan failed to appear, and throughout the meal there, was general constraint and embarrassment. Barras, who was seated next to Bonaparte, said that what France needed was a President and suggested a General Hedouville for the post, no doubt because Hedouville was a nonentity who could have been easily manipulated. Bonaparte replied only with a stony stare and Barras fell into an uneasy silence. When Bonaparte’s health was drunk he replied in only a few words and drank to the ‘Union of all Frenchmen’. Then, pleading fatigue, he quickly slipped away.

  Next morning twenty of the chief conspirators met at the house of Lemercier, the President of the Anciens, and discussed the measures to be taken. It was decided that, in order to prevent either the mob or the Jacobin Generals from interfering with the proceedings, a State of Emergency should be declared, which would enable the place of assembly of both Chambers to be transferred to St. Cloud, and that Bonaparte should be given command of the Paris garrison for their protection.

  That evening Fouché sent an urgent message by Réal that the coup must be delayed no longer or it would be nipped in the bud.

  On the 8th, the final arrangements were made. Roger went to see Talleyrand and found him none too happy about their prospects. That genius, who had brought the affair to its present point with such labour and skill, told him:

  ‘Coups d’état should be unexpected and swift. This one can be neither. Half Paris now knows what we would be at, and is boiling up to defeat us. If we could be finished by tomorrow night, all might be well; but we cannot. It requires a day to move the Legislature out of Paris, so the blow cannot be struck until the day after tomorrow. In twenty-four hours anything can happen. The delay may prove our ruin. All we can do now is hope for the best.’

  The morning of the 9th—18th Brumaire by the Revolutionary Calendar—dawned bright and mild. At 7 a.m., the Anciens met at the Tuileries. Their President announced that the Republic was in danger from a conspiracy hatched by the Jacobins, and proposed that the two Chambers should transfer to St. Cloud to avoid intimidation by the mob. Notice of this early session had been purposely withheld from sixty doubtful members, so it was voted unanimously that the next meetings of the Two Chambers should be held in the Palace of St. Cloud the following day at noon. A decree was then passed that Bonaparte should assume command of all the troops in the Paris area for the purpose of protecting the Legislature in the continuance of its functions. Bonaparte was then sent for.

  At a very early hour that morning, he had summoned all the senior officers in Paris to the Rue de la Victoire. Soon after dawn it was packed with excited warriors. Among the first to arrive was Lefebvre. Shaking the Commander of the garrison by the hand, Bonaparte cried, ‘Here is the sword I carried at the battle of the Pyramids. I give it you as a mark of my esteem and confidence.’ By that shrewd gesture, his old comrade-in-arms was immediately won over.

  Berthier, Lannes, Murat, Macdonald, Bessières, Marmont and Moreau all came trooping in, to offer their services. Jourdan, almost alone, ignored the summons and Bernadotte appeared but remained recalcitrant. He was brought by Brother Joseph, came in civilian clothes and still stubbornly refused to have any part in the business.

  By the time Bonaparte received the summons from the Anciens, he was able to go to them accompanied by scores of the ablest soldiers he had led to victory. In the garden of the Tuileries hundreds of troops were drawn up. Impassively, they watched his arrival. At the bar of the Assembly, he seemed temporarily to have lost his nerve and, on being charged with its protection, made a short, rambling speech about the sacred principles of the Revolution. The Deputy Garat rose to point out that, on his appointment, he had not sworn fidelity to the Constitution; but the President promptly declared all further proceedings out of order.

  Once outside the building, the sight of the massed troops seemed to restore Bonaparte’s confidence. Addressing them in ringing tones he cried, ‘Soldiers! What have you done with the France which I left so brilliant? I left you p
eace, I find war. I left you victories, I find defeats. I left you the millions of Italy, I find laws of spoliation and misery.’ His oration was met with a tremendous burst of cheering.

  But the decrees of the Anciens had to be confirmed by at least three out of the five Directors, and notice of them sent to all. Sieyès and Roger Ducos had already agreed to sign and then resign, and Josephine had invited Gohier to breakfast in the hope that she might persuade him also to do so. But Gohier was suspicious and saw no attraction in a rendezvous so early in the morning, so he sent his wife instead. Josephine put the situation to her; but she could not be persuaded to attempt to bring her husband over into the Bonapartist camp, and as soon as Gohier learned what was afoot he declared his intention of continuing as a Difector.

  Barras was still unaware that the conspirators intended to turn him out, and Gohier and Moulins, believing him to be with them, assumed that, as the three of them constituted the majority, they could not be deposed; so they took no action. But Talleyrand was taking charge of that end of the affair personally.

  Roger had been detailed to act as his assistant, so he had that morning gone direct to his house. Soon afterwards, they were joined by Admiral Bruix, Ouvrard and Röederer. Supervised by Talleyrand, Röederer drew up a document of resignation, full of high-sounding phrases, for Barras to sign. Ouvrard then produced a draft on his bank and, handing it to Talleyrand, said, ‘Any objections he may have to resigning should be overriden by this.’ Roger, who was standing near, did not see the actual sum for which the draft was made out, but he caught sight of the word ‘millions’. Then, to fill in time until they learned what had taken place at the Anciens, the five of them went into the dining room and ate a hearty breakfast.

  At eleven o’clock a message arrived from Bonaparte that all had gone according to plan, so Talleyrand, Bruix and Roger set off in a coach for the Luxembourg.