The Dark Secret of Josephine rb-5

by Dennis Wheatley

  The following day he succeeded in securing an interview with Barras. Once they were closeted together, he wasted no time in beating about the bush, but said straight out:

  "Tell me, is Le Directoire really giving serious consideration to this plan for allowing Buonaparte to invade England?"

  "Well, more or less," Barras admitted cautiously. "It started by our instructing him to investigate the possibilities, simply to keep that active mind of his out of mischief. But he has produced such cogent arguments in support of its practical application that we are much tempted to let him have his way. Hoche is m favour of it, but he differs from the little Corsican in wishing to make a simultaneous landing in Ireland."

  "Of that I am aware. I spent above three hours yesterday discussing the project with Buonaparte."

  "And what is your opinion of it?"

  "That it cannot possibly succeed. He knows nothing whatever about England or the British people. I, on the other hand, as you may know, was sent there as a child and spent most of my youth there; so I am in a much better position to judge what a hornet's nest the place would become did we stick a finger into it."

  "Apart from your misadventures after 9th Thermidor I did not know that you had lived there for any length of time; although I was aware that you acted as Paris correspondent for several English papers during the early years of the Revolution. So you do not approve the plan?"

  "I am convinced that it would be suicidal."

  Barras made a face. "It would open with mass suicide anyway; for Buonaparte declares it essential that we should sacrifice the whole of tihe Fleet That is the major reason why Carnot hesitates to give die plan his support."

  "You may take it from me that in addition to losing the Fleet you will lose an Army. Buonaparte must have hypnotized you all, or you would not give another thought to this madness."

  "His personal magnetism is, I admit, quite extraordinary; but it is not that alone which has led us to being near giving him his head. You may perhaps have remarked that he has grown in stature since 13th Vendemiaire."

  "He certainly has. I see the situation now. You are afraid of him?"

  "I am not, personally. After all, he is my protégé. I made him what he is: so he will never do me any harm. But Le Dlrectoire as a whole feel that he is a man who can no longer lightly be crossed."

  "In other words they fear that if he is not promoted he will promote himself?"

  "Exactly."

  "They are right in that. He said as much to me yesterday. He is as avid for glory as a pirate for loot Unless he is given the command of an Army in the field I rate him capable of overturning the Government"

  "I agree. That is why we are contemplating letting him go off to England."

  "Surely to lose the Fleet and fifty thousand men is an expensive way to placate him?"

  "We might not lose them, but gain a great triumph over our enemies."

  "You might be crowned Paul I of France in Rheims Cathedral, but that is equally unlikely. Why not give him another Army? Give him the Army of Italy. It is that after which he really hankers.

  "No." Barras shook his head. "To do so would be too dangerous. You cannot have forgotten the lessons that the Romans taught us. In a dozen instances their victorious Generals turned their legions about and marched on Rome. If we gave Buonaparte the Army of Italy or the Rhine that is the risk we should run. At any time he might decide to oust us and make himself First Magistrate. But the Army of England would be a different matter. If he succeeded in conquering the island we would make him Proconsul of it. That would keep him busy for a long time to come, and we should have nought to worry about"

  "You will if you adopt his plan. When he has lost his Army and the Fleet, it is you and your colleagues who will be called to account for it. You'll be lucky if you get as far as the guillotine. Tis more likely that the people will tear you all limb from limb."

  "It is a Government's business to take such risks. All decisions which may lead to major victories or defeats are gambles."

  "One does not gamble sous against louis d’or. Ask some of the emigres who have lived for several years in England if I am not right. Those stubborn islanders will fight to the last ditch. If you could land a quarter of a million men in a week the thing might be done; but that is utterly impossible. Again, Buonaparte's pet theory is that given anything near equal numbers the side which uses its artillery more skilfully will always win a battle. Within three days of landing he'll have run out of shot."

  "No. He plans to seize the arsenal and cannon foundry at Portsmouth."

  Roger gave a contemptuous laugh. "That cannot be done over­night. He must land on beaches out of range of the forts. To reach the Hampshire coast his men must be conveyed over near a hundred miles of sea. Nine-tenths of them will stagger ashore helpless as children from sea-sickness. They'll be hard put to it to defend themselves even from the local militia for the first twenty-four hours; so the garrison at Portsmouth will have ample time to set its house in order. Should the port appear likely to fall, you may be sure that they will blow up the arsenal and the foundry before Buonaparte can capture them. And what then? Within a week every man in Southern England will have armed himself and be on the march. Like a countless pack of wolves they will fall upon our troops, and from sheer weight of numbers drive them back into the sea."

  "It is a grim picture that you paint; but I think you over pessimistic. In any case, this enfant terrible must be given active employment of some kind; and what alternative have we?"

  "Give him the Army of Italy, which he so much desires."

  "I have already told you that Le Directoire are averse to doing so, and their reason."

  During the lengthy consideration that Roger had given to the whole subject the previous evening, he had foreseen that the Directors might be afraid of entrusting Buonaparte with an Army which could be turned against them: so he had thought out a scheme which would, perhaps, overcome their objections. Having, he felt, got Barras into the right frame of mind to consider his idea seriously, he said:

  "I think there is a way in which you could make reasonably sure of Buonaparte's fidelity."

  "I should be much interested to hear it."

  "You will be aware that for the past year he has been subject to a most powerful urge to get married?"

  "Yes. He has now set his heart upon Josephine de Beauharnais, and is wooing her with the impetuosity that he displays in everything."

  "Exactly; and she is a chere amie of yours. Everyone knows that she is greatly indebted to you, and it is even said that the house in which she lives is your property. How far would you trust her?"

  "To almost any length. She is a sweet-natured and honest creature. Out of gratitude for all I have done for her, I feel confident that she will ever use such influence as she may have in my interests."

  "From what I know of her myself, and all I have heard, I supposed as much. I suggest that you should bind her still more strongly to you by persuading her to make what can hardly fail to turn out a brilliant marriage. Give her as a dowry the command of the Army of Italy for Buonaparte, Then he will be bound to her and you will have someone in the closest possible relation to him who will put a curb on his ambitions should they threaten the authority of the Directory."

  Barras considered for a moment. "It is a most ingenious scheme; but before it could be put into operation there are several objections which would have to be overcome. Firstly, she does not love him."

  "That is what makes the plan all the sounder. If she did she could not be trusted; as things are she can. Somehow we will persuade her to accept him."

  "Perhaps that could be done. But the Army of Italy is not mine to give. Carnot was greatly impressed by Buonaparte's plan for the destruction of the Austrians, so might agree; but Rewbell is the stumbling-block. He would certainly refuse, as he has several times expressed the opinion that Buonaparte is getting too big for his boots and that we shall be well rid of him if we send him to England."

/>   "If you can win Carnot over, Letourneur will follow his lead, and that will give you a majority."

  For a further quarter of an hour they discussed the plan in detail. At length Barras said: "Then I will see La Belle Creole tonight, and if you will call upon me at the same hour tomorrow I will let you know the result of our talk."

  That evening Roger attended Madame de Chateau-Renault's salon, as it was there he had first met Josephine, and he felt that, now she had become such an important pawn in his game, he would do well to develop her acquaintance. His hope of finding her there was realized, and having engaged her for some time in conversation he remarked that he had heard that she had two very beautiful children. She replied with becoming modesty, yet her pride in them was evident. He then said how fond he was of young people, and asked permission to call upon her so that he might see them. Her consent was readily given and she invited him to take tea with her the following day.

  Next morning, eager to learn how his plan was working, he waited as arranged on Barras. The Director told him that matters had not gone too badly, then he said:

  "To be the wife of the Commander of the Army of Italy is a position which any woman might envy; and Madame de Beauharnais is much tempted by the idea. But she is still troubled with grave doubts, and she did not disguise from me that she was greatly worried about some other matter. What it is she would not confide in me, but I've a shrewd suspicion that Citizen Fouché" is at the bottom of it. Not once, but several times, she dragged his name into our conversation and begged me to get him made a junior Minister, or give him some other consider­able post that would rescue him from the poverty and disgrace into which he has fallen. But he is a rogue and mischief-maker of the first order, and I had to tell her frankly that I'd lift not a finger to help him.'?

  "It is unfortunate that some private worry should be distracting her mind at this particular time,' Roger remarked. "However, it is good news that where previously she made a mock of the little Corsican you have now persuaded her to consider him seriously. What is the next move to be?"

  "I shall see her again, of course, and continue to press her. It might help now, though, if she could be encouraged to it from some other angle. Do you know her well enough to call on her and, apropos of nothing in particular, sing Buonaparte's praises?"

  "With that very object in mind I got her to invite me to take tea with her this evening."

  "Excellent!" Barras smiled. "Keep in touch with me, and I will inform you of any fresh developments."

  At six o'clock Roger had himself driven to the house that Barras had lent La Belle Creole. It was a small two-storey villa at the end of a long passage and its entrance was flanked by two stone lions. On arriving there he recognized it as the petite Maison that the wife of Talma, the famous actor, had formerly been given by one of her rich lovers; so it had a somewhat dubious reputation, which matched Josephine's own. Roger had already learned that, although quite a number of ci-devant nobles frequented her twice-monthly 'drawing-room', very few of their wives did so, and he wondered again why a woman of her age and circumstances should hesitate to make a marriage which would both restore her respectability and secure her future.

  He was shown into a drawing-room at the back of the house with two french windows opening on to a little garden. There a few moments later Josephine, accompanied by her pet poodle Fortune, joined him.

  She received him with the unaffected grace that was one of her principal assets, and in the intimacy of her own apartment he soon began to realize more strongly than he had previously done the peculiar quality of her attraction. It lay in a melting expression, languorous grace of movement, and a mysterious suggestion that her body, if embraced, would be found to be quite exceptionally soft and yielding. After a few minutes she called in her children and presented them to him. The girl, Hortense, promised to be a beauty, as she had a good skin, a profusion of fair hair and a pair of large dark-blue eyes. The boy, Eugene, who was getting on for fifteen, was a fine manly lad, and it was obvious that both of them adored their mother.

  While Roger had served on Barras's staff during the previous October, he had seen quite a lot of Buonaparte at the War Office; so, in due course, it was easy for him to bring the General's name into the conversation, and speak of his fine qualities. Josephine did no more than murmur polite agreement, and began to fiddle a little self­-consciously with the tea things; but young Eugene took up the tale with unrestrained enthusiasm. The Corsican was now his hero; the episode of the sword was told in glowing phrases, and it transpired that, when old enough, he had been promised a commission.

  "If you are to become one of General Buonaparte's officers you will also need pistols," Roger remarked. "Have you any?"

  "Alas, no, Monsieur," came the quick reply. 'After my father's death, my poor mother was compelled to part with nearly all his things in order to feed us."

  "Then Madame," Roger bowed to Josephine, "permit me, I pray, the pleasure of presenting your charming son with a brace of weapons to go with his sword."

  At first Josephine demurred, but she was quite used to accepting gifts from men; so she needed only a little pressing to agree on behalf of her boy.

  The matter had only just been settled when the Deputy Freron was announced. Roger had got to know him well at the siege of Toulon and had met him on many occasions since. He was now a man of thirty, and after the coup d'etat of 9th Thermidor, in which he had played a vigorous part, he had become more strongly reactionary than any other of the ex-Terrorists. As Fouché had told Roger some months before, Freron, with extraordinary astuteness, had used his paper, L’Orateur du Peuple, to make himself the leader of the jeunesse doree; but his past was far from having been forgotten by Roger.

  It was Freron who, while Representant en Mission at Marseilles, had ordered a volley to be fired into a mass of Royalist prisoners; and. when they had fallen in a screaming, bloody heap, called out: 'All of you who are not dead, stand up, and you shall be spared.' Then, when the survivors took him at his word and staggered to their feet, he had ordered a second volley to be fired.

  To find such a man in the house of a woman whose husband had been guillotined was no more than a symptom of the times, and Roger had no reason to believe Josephine to be particularly high principled; but he was slightly nauseated by what followed. Freron had not come there to pay his respects to Madame de Beauharnais; almost at once he began openly to ogle pretty little Hortense. Then he produced some tickets for a public ball at the Hotel de Richelieu and asked if he might take the mother and daughter to it; upon which the young girl jumped for joy. Roger made suitable excuses and took his leave.

  Having allowed a day to elapse, so that he should not appear to have an ulterior motive in his visits, on March the 2nd, somewhat later in the evening, Roger called on Josephine again. With him he brought a case containing two fine silver-mounted pistols, which he had bought the day before. Eugene was delighted with them, as they were far more beautiful and expensive than anything he had expected. At the sight of them Josephine became somewhat thoughtful; then after a while she sent her children out of the room. When they had made their adieux she said to Roger:

  "Monsieur, please tell me why, since we have no claim on you other than the honour of a slight acquaintance, you have made my son this magnificent gift?"

  He smiled. "Madame, I will at least take the credit for a genuine wish to give so promising a young man pleasure; but, since you ask me, I will confess to having also had the hope that should General Buonaparte come to hear of it, he too will be pleased by this small attention to a family in which he is so deeply interested."

  "You have, then, heard of the attentions with which he has honoured me?"

  "More, Madame. When I was last with him he positively raved to me about you. In fact, unless you take pity on him I really fear that from unrequited love of you he will be driven out of his mind; and that would be a great loss to France, for I am convinced that a splendid future lies before him."


  "So others also tell me; and I have formed the greatest respect for his character. But, at times, he makes me almost afraid of him."

  "You have no need to be. Look at the affection with which your children speak of him. Young people have an instinct for judging the true disposition of their elders. And for them you could not find a better stepfather in the whole length and breadth of France."

  "There is much in what you say, Monsieur."

  "Indeed there is. Once married to him you would have no more anxieties. As his wife all Paris will bow before you. When little Hortense becomes of an age to marry, a score of rich and titled suitors will be contending for her hand. You will be able to make a match for her such as her beauty deserves. As for Eugene, since it is his wish to be a soldier, to rob him of the chance to attach himself to one who promises to become the first soldier of the day would be little less than cruel."

  Josephine nodded. "I have thought much upon the same lines, and these arguments weigh greatly with me. Should I accept him it will be because the interests of my children are so near to my heart. But there are other considerations. For one, it would be childish of me to attempt to hide the fact that I am past my first youth. So volatile a man might soon turn to other distractions, and..."

  Josephine got no further; for at that moment Madame Tallien was announced. Her entrance deprived Roger of the chance of reassuring his hostess about the power of her charms and, to his intense annoy­ance, of saying numerous other things about her mooted match with Buonaparte that, having broken the ice, he had hoped to say to her that evening.