‘I am much encouraged,’ Roger said, ‘by Your Excellency having confided in me that you are in favour of deposing his present Majesty, and I appreciate your difficulty. May I hope, though, that you will continue to urge upon the Grand Duke the necessity of agreeing to this project for the salvation of his country?’
‘You may, Mr. Brook; for our situation becomes more disturbing every day. But what of yourself? Whereabouts in the city have you a lodging?’
‘In the English Factory, with the Reverend James Peabody, who has most kindly given me hospitality these past few days. But I am loath to burden him with my presence much longer and am seeking other accommodation.’
Count Pahlen thought for a few moments, then he said, ‘As our only link with the Government of England I would like you to remain on in St. Petersburg, pending possible eventualities; but it is important that no suspicion be aroused regarding the reason for your presence here. In view of the present breach between Russia and England your pretence of being only a casual traveller is liable to become suspect before long; and it is most undesirable that the Czar’s secret police should become interested in your movements. I think the safest plan would be for you to remove to my country house outside the city, as there you would be free from police surveillance. But I cannot place full reliance on my own staff, and it might arouse undesirable comment if it were known that I had an English guest there.’
Roger, now more than ever satisfied with the turn the interview had taken, smiled his thanks then suggested, ‘As the Germans have always been looked on kindly by His Imperial Majesty, did I pose as one while your guest and my presence there come to his ears, he would think nothing of it. Particularly if you could provide me with some suitable employment.’
‘That is an admirable idea,’ the Minister replied. ‘As a reason for your presence you could catalogue the German books in my library.’
So matters were arranged. Next day Roger thanked the Reverend James warmly for his hospitality and left the city to take up his residence in Count Pahlen’s country mansion, under the name of Herr Professor Heinrich Below.
It was by then February 16th, and before the end of the month Roger had several other conversations with the Minister, who kept him informed of what was going on. The Czar had despatched an emissary to Paris to end formally the state of war that existed between Russia and France. A glowing response had recently been received from the First Consul and with it a copy of a declaration he had issued. It gave unstinted praise to the Czar for his chivalrous decision to defend the shipping of all nations from the piracy of the English, then stated France’s determination to render him all possible aid and not make peace with Britain until she agreed to recognise the ‘Freedom of the Seas’.
Overjoyed by this, Paul had sent an enthusiastic reply of great length. In it he urged the First Consul to exert pressure through Spain on Portugal to force her to join the League, and to use his influence with the United States to the same end. He then proposed a vast, mad plan for conquering India. The French, under Masséna, were to cross the Danube, enter Russia then, by way of the Don and Volga, arrive at Astrakhan on the Black Sea. There they would be joined by a Russian army and by way of Herat and Candahar invade India.
Roger could well imagine how Bonaparte and Talleyrand would laugh over this crazy scheme; but it was certain they would flatter the Czar by pretending to accept it while making capital out of his hatred of England.
At several of Roger’s talks with Count Pahlen, the Vice Chancellor, Count Nitika Panin, was present and, later, a number of other high officials, all of whom concurred that the Czar must, somehow, be deposed. But all were agreed that they dared not act until the consent of the Grand Duke Alexander had been obtained, and he continued obdurate.
Towards the end of February Roger learned that on the 9th, as a result of Moreau’s further successes following Hohenlinden and his advance on Vienna, the Austrians had, at Lunéville, again signed a separate peace; so Britain was now left on her own to fight France, Sweden and Denmark.
But early in March the prospect of dethroning the Czar became more hopeful. Prussia had remained dilatory about joining the League, and had done no more than close the mouths of the rivers Ems and Weser to British shipping. Infuriated by Frederick William’s lack of co-operation, Paul threatened to send an army of eighty thousand men against Berlin unless the Prussians at once invaded Hanover. For Russia to alienate her potential allies the Prussians, as well as the English, must prove disastrous; so Alexander reluctantly agreed that something must be done, but not for the moment.
Meanwhile Paul was becoming conscious that his tyranny was making him many enemies, and had begun to fear assassination. He had already turned the Mikhailovsky Palace, in which he lived, into a fortress and now he strengthened its defences still further. Suspecting everyone round him of treachery he became ever more gloomy and intractable. Even his devoted wife and his sons came under suspicion, and he told Pahlen that he felt convinced that they were plotting against him. Then, one day, he confided to his Minister that he meant to imprison all three of them and appoint the young Prince Eugene of Würtemberg as his successor. When Pahlen informed Alexander of his danger the Grand Duke finally consented to his father being deposed, but made the Count swear on oath that, when the Czar was arrested, in no circumstances should he be harmed.
Now, it seemed to Roger all that remained to be done was to evolve a carefully-thought-out plan for getting into the Palace without opposition and forcing Paul to sign a Deed of Abdication. But neither Pahlen nor Panin shared that view. Both were most averse to taking any active role themselves and agreed that, although innumerable Russians had come to hate Paul, they could think of no-one with sufficient standing who would have the temerity to face him and tell him he had been deposed. Roger thereupon volunteered to do the job himself, provided he was given adequate armed backing. But to that they objected that he was not fitted to take the lead in such an undertaking because he was known only to a few of the nobles who wished to force the Czar to abdicate; so the majority would refuse to put their trust in him and risk their necks by accompanying him into the Palace.
At length they decided to use General Bennigsen, a bold and ruthless Hanoverian in the Russian service. But he was commanding the garrison in a distant city, so Roger had to restrain his impatience as best he could while making a pretence for a further week of cataloguing Count Pahlen’s library.
Bennigsen arrived in mid-March and, when informed what was afoot, declared himself willing to play the leading part, provided that others, equally resolute, were ready to give him their support. Pahlen assured him that he would have no difficulty in producing a body of such men shortly before the attempt. But now that it came to deciding on which night it should be made, there occurred yet another delay. Only Alexander’s own Semenourki regiment could be relied on not to oppose the conspirators entering the Palace; so they must wait until its next turn for duty came round.
By this time, so many senior officers had been summoned to meetings by Count Pahlen and asked their views that it seemed to Roger that half St. Petersburg must know about the plot. Every day now he expected to hear that Paul had learned about it and had had his Minister arrested; and if that happened the whole movement would be nipped in the bud because the Count, as Governor of the City, controlled the police and should he be deprived of that post everyone else concerned would also be arrested.
With ever-increasing anxiety Roger strove to keep his thoughts on listing the titles of books and manuscripts until the morning of March 23rd. Still fearing that the Czar must know of the conspiracy and that they would all be seized at the last moment, he rode into the city to be present that night at a supper party Count Pahlen was giving for some sixty officers.
Among them were the three Zuboff brothers, the eldest of whom, Plato, had been Catherine’s favourite at the time of her death. Roger had never previously met him, but had heard many accounts of his vanity, stupidity and insolent behavio
ur. Paul, on his accession, had deprived the brothers of the greater part of their wealth and they had since been living uncomfortably in the country. Pahlen had chosen them to act as Bennigsen’s immediate supporters and had sent for them in secret. Later it emerged that they, and many of the other officers present, were not yet aware of the reason for this gathering.
Soon after midnight, by which time large quantities of wine had been consumed, Pahlen addressed the company. He told them that that morning the Czar had carried out his threat against the dilatory Frederick William, and sent him an insulting message by the Russian Ambassador in Berlin declaring war on Prussia. When the exclamations of dismay had died down the Count added that this last insane act could mean the ruin of Russia so must be stopped, and he then immediately called upon them to join him that very night in forcing the Czar to abdicate.
Only four officers refused their aid; the rest enthusiastically hailed this chance to protect themselves from falling under the mad Czar’s displeasure. In an excited mob they streamed out of the mansion and headed for the Palace. On the way there Pahlen succeeded in forming them into two groups: one that was to enter the Palace under Bennigsen, the other to remain outside with himself and overawe any officers of the guard who might attempt to make trouble. But there was no trouble. The senior officers of the Semenourki regiment were in the plot and had arranged that their sentries should allow the conspirators to pass.
Roger and the Zuboff brothers had joined Bennigsen’s party. It was now close on two o’clock in the morning and all but a few of the inmates of the Palace were sleeping. Quickly the conspirators made their way across the great hall, up the broad staircase and along dimly-lit corridors to the Czar’s apartments.
Outside them two heyducks were on guard and attempted to halt them. One was instantly struck down, the other managed to escape and, as he ran off shouting for help, several of the conspirators dashed away in pursuit of him.
Hearing his cries the Czar’s valet, who had been dozing in the ante-room, appeared, his eyes round with terror. Knowing that he had the key to his master’s bedroom, Bennigsen seized him by the throat, shook him as a terrier shakes a rat, and took the key from him. Two minutes later they were in the bedroom.
Roused from his sleep, Paul was sitting up in his huge canopied bed, but only vaguely discernible by the glimmer of a single night light. Bennigsen, waving his sword with one hand, with the other pulled from his pocket the Act of Abdication and shouted:
‘You have ceased to reign! The Grand Duke Alexander is now Emperor. I summon you in his name to sign this document. Refuse and I’ll not answer for your life!’
Protesting wildly, Paul slipped from his bed and made a dash for the door leading to the Empress’s apartments. Then he pulled up short, suddenly remembering that he could not escape that way because, fearing that his wife might have him murdered, he had, only a few days before, ordered it to be blocked up. By his unworthy suspicions he had trapped himself.
At that moment there came the sound of tramping feet put in the corridor. Fearing that the heyduck who had got away had succeeded in reaching and rousing Paul’s bodyguard and that they were now coming to his help, the conspirators panicked, faced about and ran back into the ante-room. There ensued a wild scramble as they pushed one another aside in their anxiety to get through the further door and away down the passage.
After a few moments Bennigsen regained his wits and bellowed, ‘Stop, you fools! Defend the door! Give me five minutes and I’ll force him to sign, then threaten him with death unless he orders his people to let us freely leave the Palace.’
Except for Plato Zuboff, his brother Nicholas and Roger the others ignored Bennigsen’s plea and ran on. It seemed now that, if the coup was to be accomplished, every moment was precious. With no word said, all four of them turned about and dashed back into Paul’s bedroom.
During their brief absence he had scrambled back into bed and had endeavoured to conceal himself under the heavy rugs at its foot. Three parts drunk with wine and excitement, Bennigsen and the Zuboffs launched themselves at the bed and began to tear away the covers. One of them knocked over the night light and a moment later the room was plunged into total darkness.
Roger drew a sharp breath as it flashed into his mind that this contretemps spelled disaster. In the pitch darkness it would be impossible to make the Czar sign the abdication. At any moment now Paul’s bodyguard might arrive on the scene. Even if Bennigsen carried out his threat to kill the Czar, there would be no escape for those who had brought about his death. All four of them would be overwhelmed and slaughtered.
Swiftly he assessed his own chances. Shouts and the noise of a desperate struggle came from the direction of the bed, but no sound came from the ante-room or the corridor beyond it. If he acted at once and abandoned his companions, there was still a chance that he might evade the guards, find some place in which to hide until the fracas between them and the conspirators had been settled one way or the other then, under cover of darkness, slip out of the Palace.
Heading for the door he fumbled his way out of the bedroom. The ante-chamber was almost as dark, being lit only by a faint glow that came from lights some way down the corridor. He halted abruptly, his mind still racing with thoughts of his perilous situation and all that hung on this attempt to force Paul to abdicate.
To achieve that end he had made the long, exhausting journey to St. Petersburg and for many weeks had tirelessly intrigued to bring it about. Barely five minutes earlier he had seemed to be within an ace of reaching his goal. Had he done so, it would have altered the whole balance of power in Europe to the inestimable advantage of Britain. If there was still even a slender chance that he could yet succeed in that, could he square it with his conscience to save himself rather than risk his life?
For another moment he was racked by awful indecision, then his sense of duty overcame his fears. The chance lay in quickly finding a light that he could bring to the bedroom, so that Paul could be coerced to sign the act of abdication before the arrival of his guards. Some way down the corridor there were lamps or candles burning. Resolved now, whatever the cost, to see matters through, he started forward and dashed out of the ante-room to fetch a light.
The corridor was deserted and still no sound came from further along it. Racing down it, he sped round the corner, then pulled up short as he came opposite a wall bracket holding six candles. Turning, he grasped one of them to take it from its socket. At that moment he heard distant footfalls. A glance over his shoulder showed him that a group of men was approaching from the far end of the passage, two of them holding flambeaux. Taking them for Paul’s guards, he let go of the candle, instinctively drew his sword, and prepared to beat a hasty retreat.
As he did so, one of the advancing group hailed him by name. Next minute he recognised the man who had given the shout and, with a surge of relief, realised that it was not Paul’s guards approaching but a number of officers who were taking part in the conspiracy. As they advanced they called to him excitedly that the escaping heyduck had been killed, that the alarm had been a false one and that Paul’s bodyguard had been arrested by the Colonel of the Semenourki regiment; so the Palace was now in their hands. Joining the group, Roger hurried back with them to the Czar’s bedroom.
By the flickering light of the flaming torches a grim sight met their eyes. Paul lay limp across the foot of the bed. His forehead was bleeding from a blow by which he had been struck down. His head lolled back, exposing his neck and the red bruises on it showed that he had been strangled.
Bennigsen hotly disclaimed any part in the murder, and was furiously cursing the Zuboffs. Plato appeared scared by the deed, but Nicholas, a huge brute of a man, only gave a drunken laugh and cried:
‘The swine deserved to die. I’ll go now to Alexander, hail him as Czar and ask a fair reward for this good night’s work—that he restore our estates to us.’ Then he staggered from the room.
Hours later Roger learned from Count Pahlen what h
ad followed this terrible scene. Nicholas Zuboff had gone straight to the Grand Duke and told him bluntly that his father was dead. Alexander had been completely shattered, burst into tears and refused all consolation. Pahlen had then learned that the Empress, on being informed that her husband was dead, had claimed the right to succeed and was rallying her friends about her. He had hastened to Alexander, found him still in tears but forced him to pull himself together and, to prevent his mother usurping his throne, allow himself to be proclaimed Emperor. In the murky dawn of March 24th the Brigade of Guards had been paraded and Alexander hailed by them as Czar of all the Russias.
Roger had no means of sending this stupendous news back to London, but he knew that within a month or so it would be known there. Meanwhile he was content to bide his time as Count Pahlen’s guest until the new Czar recovered from the shock of his father’s murder.
Alexander ordered that his Court should go into the deepest mourning, but that could not prevent matters already set in train from taking their course. Although Paul’s declaration of war against Prussia had been promptly withdrawn, before Frederick William received news of it he had reacted to the threat and, on March 29th, opened hostilities against England by invading Hanover. The British too had not been idle and decided to attack the fleets of the Northern Powers piece-meal, before they had time to concentrate. Eighteen ships of the line had been despatched to Copenhagen under Admiral Sir Hyde Parker, with Vice-Admiral Nelson as second in command.
On March 30th the British forced the Sound and on April 2nd daringly destroyed the Danish fleet while under the guns of its capital.
It was not until many weeks later that Roger received a full account of this famous battle. Having forced the Sound Nelson, believing Paul I to be still alive and regarding him as the mainspring of the Northern alliance against Britain, had been in favour of sailing up the Baltic and attacking the Russian fleet. But Sir Hyde Parker had insisted that the Danish fleet should first be dealt with, although he had given Nelson only twelve ships out of his eighteen to engage them and with gross stupidity kept the remaining six under himself out of the battle.
The Wanton Princess Page 14