Fouché, who for once had been caught napping, asserted his conviction that it had been a royalist plot. But Bonaparte had shouted him down. Scores of ex-Robespierrists had been arrested and, on January 4th, against considerable opposition, Bonaparte had forced a decree through the Senate that one hundred and thirty of them should be deported. Later, Fouchè’s investigations proved him right. Two royalists named St. Regent and Carbon had set off the explosion, and were duly executed for their crime. Nevertheless, the innocent Jacobins sent into exile were not reprieved.
Roger was very amused. Knowing Bonaparte so well, he felt certain that the cunning Corsican had seized upon this opportunity to rid himself of the men he had come to consider his worst enemies—the old die-hards of the Revolution who opposed him most violently in his determination to deprive the people of their liberties. For his victims Roger had no sympathy whatever, for they were men such as Rossignol, who had been guilty of some of the most atrocious crimes committed during the Terror.
The bomb plot had led to Bonaparte’s most devoted partisans putting about the suggestion that he should be made King of France. They argued that should he be assassinated the Jacobins and Moderates would at once be at one another’s throats and their struggle for power lead to another period of bloody strife, whereas if the First Consulship had been converted into a hereditary monarchy his successor would be in a position to continue the régime of law and order that he had established.
In support of this contention a pamphlet entitled, ‘Parallel between Caesar, Cromwell and Bonaparte,’ had appeared and many people believed that it had been inspired by the First Consul himself. But he hotly repudiated the suggestion and, reading between the lines, Roger thought it probable that he had put it up as a ballon d’essai; then, when public reaction proved unfavourable, decided that his position was not yet strong enough to attempt such aggrandisement.
The Treaty of Lunéville, forced on Austria in February, had enormously strengthened his position. By it he secured recognition of France’s overlordship of all the territory up to the left bank of the Rhine, Belgium, Luxembourg, Holland, Piedmont, the Cisalpine Republic and Liguria; and a month later Naples had been forced to make peace and accept a French garrison.
Meanwhile Tuscany had been turned into the Kingdom of Etruria and given to the young Duke of Parma. In March the newly-made King and his Queen, the Infanta Maria Louisa, had paid a state visit to Paris. Everyone who had met him declared him to be the next thing to an idiot and completely under Bonaparte’s thumb.
One piece of news that affected Roger more than all the rest was that, after eighteen years as Prime Minister, Pitt had resigned. In March a new government had been formed by Henry Addington, formerly the Speaker of the House. Roger had met him several times and knew him to be an affable man with long experience of political life, but did not regard him as a strong character. Worn out by his long struggle as Pitt might be, Roger hoped that his retirement would not be permanent, but only for a period of rest, as he felt that no one could replace him as a leader.
It was not until he breakfasted with Talleyrand that he learned what had led to the fall of Pitt’s government. There were present two other guests: Roederer, a politician and economist who had played a leading part in the Liberal Revolution of ’89, gone into hiding during the Terror and since become one of Bonaparte’s principal advisers, and Cambacérès, the Second Consul. The latter was a famous gourmet and also so great a glutton that out of the head of his own dining table he had had a semi-circle cut to accommodate his huge paunch; so it was, no doubt, on his account that the dishes served at this breakfast would have been more appropriate to a banquet.
The talk was at first of Spain and an expedition that was now being planned to go to America. In the time of Louis XIV the French had established settlements in Louisiana but by the Treaty of Paris in 1763 had yielded them to Spain; and twenty years later Spain had recovered from England the province of Florida. Since then the Spaniards had ruled the whole vast territory from Mexico north to California, and across the Mississippi and the Missouri to the Atlantic ocean.
After the break-up of the First Coalition in ’95 and the defeat of Spain, France had endeavoured to get back her old territories, but Godoy, King Carlos’s Prime Minister and the lover of his Queen, had stoutly resisted. Then, in the previous October, Bonaparte had again raised the matter and brought pressure to bear on the King. This had resulted in a secret deal by which Carlos agreed to cede Louisiana in return for Bonaparte making the King’s son-in-law King of Etruria.
Meanwhile it had emerged that it was Lucien who had been the author of the Caesar, Cromwell, Bonaparte pamphlet. He had, from being a rabid King-hater, so altered his views that he now wished to see his brother made King, in the hope that he would be appointed his successor. When the mole-like Fouché had produced evidence that Lucien Bonaparte was the author, Napoleon had been so furious at this premature attempt to promote a monarchy that he had packed him off to Spain to prevent him from making further trouble in France, and with orders to overcome Godoy’s continued resistance.
As Ambassador at the Court of Madrid in March, Lucien had forced the Minister to resign. There had followed the Treaty of St. Idlefonso by which Spain not only gave up Louisiana to France but also undertook to make war on Portugal unless she closed her ports to British shipping.
Roger had already learned that the expedition to India had never matured, and as he had never been to America he felt reasonably confident that Bonaparte would not attempt to send him to Louisiana. As soon as he could find an opening he turned the conversation to England.
Talleyrand smiled across at him, ‘About affairs there I am now particularly well informed; as, apart from my normal secret sources, I now have an official representative in London. Perhaps you have met him—one Monsieur Otto?’
Shaking his head, Roger replied, ‘No, and since we are still at war with England I am much surprised.…’
‘We may not be for much longer,’ Talleyrand cut him short cheerfully. ‘Otto, of course, has not the status of an Ambassador; but since the Peace of Lunéville and Mr. Pitt’s resignation the English have become much more tractable. They agreed to my sending Otto over to arrange an exchange of prisoners.’
‘Since Your Excellency is so well informed and I’ve not heard the reason for Mr. Pitt’s retirement I’d much like to know it.’
‘ ’Twas due to a disagreement between him and King George on a question of religion. Fearful of another rebellion in Ireland, he has for some years hoped to engender a greater loyalty in the Irish people by incorporating their government with that of Britain and giving them some share in it. Politically he succeeded, by putting through an Act of Union at the opening of this year, but that did not get to the heart of the matter because Catholics were still debarred from becoming Members of Parliament. Although ’tis said that he made no public promise, there can be little doubt that he bought the consent of the Irish leaders to this Union by giving them to believe that he would later put through a Bill emancipating all Catholics from the disabilities they have suffered for so long. His Cabinet was behind him in this wise and humane measure, but the King would have none of it. He maintained that his consent to such a Bill would violate his oath to uphold the Protestant constitution.’
Roederer laughed, ‘And so we are rid of our most inveterate enemy through the act of the King he served so well. With him, too, are gone Messieurs Dundas, Grenville, Windham, Spencer, Cornwallis and Castlereagh. The whole pack. That mad monarch deserves that we should put up a statue to him.’
‘It is an ill wind …’ agreed Talleyrand. ‘Milord Hawkesbury, who has succeeded Milord Grenville as Foreign Minister, seems much more amenable to reason. I have real hopes now that before many months are past we may agree upon a pacification.’
Cambacérès, who had been eating solidly and who, when at a meal, never spoke on any subject except the food, looked up suddenly and said, ‘To do justice to your chef, Monsieur l
e Ministre, I’ll take another helping of that lobster pâté. ’Tis excellent, and I must beg of you the recipe.’
Roger would have liked to hear more of events in England, but the chef was sent for and there ensued a discussion on whether the flesh of lobsters or crayfish lent itself better to such dishes. Imbecile as he thought the King’s bigoted behaviour and sorry as he was that his old master should have been dismissed for having endeavoured honourably to carry out his understanding with the Catholics, he was extremely pleased to hear that at last there was a prospect of the long and costly war coming to an end.
When Cambacérès had resumed his munching, the talk turned to certain fiscal measures that Roederer was advocating to the First Consul, a subject on which Roger knew nothing; and shortly afterwards the party broke up.
The following day being Saturday, it was to be expected that on his return from the coast the First Consul would go direct to Malmaison for the week-end; so in the afternoon, hoping to re-establish at once his position as one of Bonaparte’s intimate circle, Roger rode out there. To his delight the great man was in an excellent temper, pulled his ear, invited him to stay to dinner and, while the meal was being prepared, took him out to walk up and down the splendid avenue.
As usual Bonaparte was full of his own plans, his immediate preoccupation being with the official restoration of religion in France. Pope Pius VI had been most brutally handled by the Republican Commissioners when the French had occupied Rome, but he had died fifteen months before and Bonaparte was in hopes of coming to an agreement with his successor, Pius VII. He had written to him suggesting that he should send a representative to Paris to discuss the reformation of the French National Church, established in the early days of the Revolution, into a body to which the Pope would be willing to give his blessing. Pius had readily responded to the overture and had already despatched Cardinal Consalvi to act as his negotiator.
Dismissing the subject as swiftly as he had entered on it, Bonaparte then confirmed Talleyrand’s hopes of an early peace with England. Stalking along with his hands clasped behind his back and his big head thrust forward, he said:
‘My position is much stronger than it was eighteen months ago, and theirs is now hopeless. Austria has had her lesson, my hold upon the Netherlands is secure and I am again master of all Italy. Spain is in my pocket and Portugal soon will be. The Danish fleet has taken a beating but the Swedes could yet cause England a lot of trouble in the Northern seas. The murder of the Czar was something of a blow for, mad as he was, I could have made good use of him; and I fear this young man Alexander is likely to be influenced by people about him who wish me no good. But at least, before he died, Paul aided me in pushing the spineless Frederick William into kicking the English out of Hanover, and Prussia is a valuable ally. Taken as a whole the situation is overwhelmingly in my favour.
‘Now that stiff-necked fellow, Pitt, is gone we should be able to talk business. These new men lack both the guts and the ability to continue the struggle for long. And if they refuse to see reason, woe betide them. Now that I’ve naught to fear from the Austrians behind me I’ll invade their damned island and, if need be, raze London to the ground. For such a project I have always counted on your value, Breuc, and with my good Duroc absent in Russia I could again find work for another A.D.C. who has a head on his shoulders. See Berthier on Monday and tell him that you are to be my contact with him in all matters concerning our plans for the invasion of England.’
So, two days later, Roger found himself once again in a position to know all that was going on.
He now took an early opportunity of paying his respects to the Bonaparte family. Madame Letizia had left Joseph’s house and had gone to live with her brother Fesch at his equally magnificent mansion in the Rue du Mont Blanc. She spoke sharply to Roger about his master, with whom she had had high words on account of Lucien. She then declared Fouché to be a liar and a scoundrel, devoted to the interests of Josephine. She was convinced that between them they had cooked up the story that Lucien was the author of the Caesar-Cromwell-Bonaparte pamphlet, which had led to Lucien’s being sent to Spain. Seething with cold indignation she had gone to the Tuileries, overawed her son and, in his presence, upbraided the hated Josephine, then told her to warn her creature Fouché that the arms of the Mother of the Bonapartes were long enough to make anyone who slandered one of her sons regret it.
Roger had tactfully expressed his sympathy, while secretly of the opinion that Bonaparte had done wisely in ridding himself of his ambitious, truculent and dangerous brother.
He found that Eliza Bacciocchi, the pseudo-bluestocking, shared her mother’s anger about Bonaparte’s treatment of Lucien. It had ruined for her the happy arrangement by which she had ruled his house since his wife’s death the preceding year, and queened it among the literary men who sought her patronage.
Caroline Murat had established herself in the old Hôtel de Brionne and was giving magnificent dinners there that won the praise of even Cambacérès.
Brother Joseph had played a most praiseworthy part in the negotiations that had led to the Peace of Lunéville and was now assisting the priest of the family, Uncle Fesch, in the pourparlers with Rome.
Pauline had moved to a house of her own and with wild extravagance furnished it magnificently. She received Roger reclining on a day-bed with gold griffon heads and claw feet, looking like a Greek goddess who had just descended from Olympus. Her husband, Leclerc, was still absent with the Army and rumour had it that she was indulging in an affaire with Lafon, an actor at the Comédie française. Roger envied him his luck and, in spite of his devotion to Josephine, was so entranced with Pauline’s lovely profile that he let her ramble on for half an hour, abusing her brother’s wife.
In July Cardinal Consalvi arrived in Paris with a retinue of priests and negotiations for a Concordat began in earnest. Bonaparte, Roger learned, was having an affaire with a young, simple and very beautiful actress named Mademoiselle George; and now that he occupied the Palace of St. Cloud, his valet Constant was collecting the lady from the theatre and escorting her out there nearly every night. But, in spite of his own peccadillo, the First Consul had decreed that the laxity of morals current during the Directory must henceforth cease.
To this Talleyrand’s conduct, as his most prominent Minister, provided a most lamentable example. For the past two years or more he had had living in his house a Madame Grand. She was very beautiful but an almost incredibly stupid woman and had had so many lovers before him that her immorality was notorious. Not content with keeping her there as his mistress, he treated her as his wife. She acted as hostess at all his receptions and, to the intense resentment of the ladies in the foreign embassies, he expected them to make their curtsies to her.
As Talleyrand had formerly been a Bishop, Bonaparte was anxious that he should return to the Church and offered to procure him a Cardinal’s hat. In the days of the monarchy he had been within an ace of obtaining one but, to his intense annoyance, the high-principled Marie Antoinette had taken steps, on account of his scandalous life, to prevent him from receiving it. Now he told Bonaparte that nothing would induce him again to become a Churchman.
The First Consul then insisted that, in that case, he must marry Madame Grand. But the Pope flatly refused to give him a dispensation to do so. Pius was willing to release him from the vows he had taken as a priest, but said that in no possible circumstances would he countenance an ex-priest taking a wife. In vain Talleyrand hunted up every historical precedent he could think of, including that of Cesare Borgia. The Pope proved adamant. On that Bonaparte had to be content with a half-way house and peremptorily ordered his Foreign Minister to get married to his mistress in a Mayor’s Parlour.
Roger’s duties were not particularly arduous, but soon after Cardinal Consalvi’s arrival in Paris Bonaparte sent him to check the veracity of certain information he had been given about two of the Channel ports. He was away for a week and the day following his return he ran into Talleyrand o
n the grand staircase of the Tuileries. When they had exchanged greetings the statesman said:
‘Are you aware that you have an identical twin?’
Having for the past two or three weeks expected such a question from him, Roger smiled and replied, ‘So Duroc has written to Your Excellency saying he could swear he ran into me in St. Petersburg?’
Talleyrand’s face remained inscrutable, and he was silent for a long moment, then he asked, ‘How in the world did you become aware of that?’
A realisation of what he had done flashed upon Roger. His heart missed a beat. His glib reply had been an appalling blunder, and by it he had given himself away.
11
Catastrophe
Roger’s heart now began to hammer in his chest. He had managed to keep the smile on his lips but for several heart beats he remained completely nonplussed. His brain had become a whirligig of confused thoughts.
How could he have been such a fool? Was there any possible way out? What had Duroc said? Roger’s disappearance from St. Petersburg immediately after their meeting must have increased his suspicions. Still, he could have secured no proof. There was nothing to connect the man seen by Duroc in St. Petersburg with himself. But that was not the point. He had to explain having known about that meeting before being told about it. Could he claim second sight? No. Talleyrand would never believe him. And Talleyrand’s question could not be left unanswered. It must be though, for there was no answer he could give. What would Talleyrand do when he told him he had no idea why he had said what he had said? Could he have seen the despatch? No, he had no access to Talleyrand’s papers, so that was next to impossible. Anyway, he had been absent from Paris for a week.
The last of these thoughts streaking like lightning through his agitated brain at least gave him an opportunity to gain a few moments’ time, and he asked, ‘How long is it since Your Excellency received Duroc’s despatch?’
The Wanton Princess Page 16