‘ ’Tis a fascinating story,’ Roger declared. ‘And I shall look forward now with even greater interest to seeing some of the actors in it.’
For the rest of the evening they talked of other matters, and when Roger left it was arranged that Hugh Elliot should call for him at his inn on Tuesday evening, to take him to the Prime Minister’s soirée.
At the soirée everything went according to plan. Monsieur le Chevalier de Breuc was duly presented to Monsieur le Baron la Houze, a charming and polished diplomat. They talked of Paris at some length and Roger said that he had spent a year there after completing his education at Strasbourg. He was able to speak with truth of his friendship with the Abbé de Talleyrand-Périgord, the Vicomte de la Tour d’Auvergne, and the Comte de Choiseul-Gouffier, whom he knew to be still the French Ambassador at Constantinople, and he inferred that he had more than an acquaintance with the Baron de Breteuil, the Duc de Polignac, and other members of Queen Marie Antoinette’s intimate circle. La Houze was as favourably impressed by Roger’s delightful manners as by his admirable connections, and within ten minutes of their having met, offered to present him at the Saturday evening drawing-room.
Four evenings later Roger accompanied his new friend to the Christiansborg Palace. It seemed even vaster inside than out, and the few score of courtiers and ladies present appeared almost lost in the huge reception-hall; but several great wood-fires gave the place a cheerful atmosphere, and the etiquette of the small court was not so rigidly formal as to prevent the Danes from obviously taking pleasure in the function.
The French Minister duly presented Roger to the half-mad King, who was now thirty-eight years of age but looked considerably older. He was a puny, sly-eyed creature and much embarrassed Roger by digging him in the ribs and asking him several extremely indecent personal questions; but Count Bernstorff drew His Majesty’s attention away from the visitor and the King spent most of the remainder of the evening sitting on the floor playing with his dog.
His son, the young Crown Prince, proved a most pleasing contrast and held Roger for some twenty minutes in intelligent conversation. He was then presented to the sinister Queen Dowager, her awkward, horse-faced son, and several other notabilities. Hugh Elliot was there and introduced him to the Count and Countess Reventlow, who invited him to accompany the British Minister to their house next day; and a number of other people he met asked him to call upon them.
Having achieved his first objective of establishing himself as a young French nobleman, travelling for pleasure through the northern capitals, he returned to his inn highly satisfied. Then the following morning he once more rode through the sabbath quiet of the city streets to the wooded parks of Christiansholm, and spent some very pleasant hours at the Reventlow mansion, as one of a charming family circle of about a dozen people.
When the party broke up it was still light, as the long evenings of the northern summer were already beginning; and Elliot suggested that Roger should ride back with him as far as the Legation. After going at an easy canter through the park, on the grass of which the big trees were now casting fantastically, elongated shadows, the diplomat reined his horse in to a walk, and as Roger followed suit, said to him:
‘I took this opportunity for a word with you, because it is unlikely that my interest in a young Frenchman would normally lead me to entertain him privately more than once; and now that you are known to la Houze I shall not invite you again, for fear of arousing his suspicions that you are not, after all, quite what you seem. Tell me, now, is there any further way in which I can be of service to you, or do you feel that you have got what you can from Denmark?’
‘I could doubtless learn many things of interest from a prolonged stay, Sir, but little of moment by remaining for a fortnight,’ Roger replied. ‘So I feel that I ought to go on my way as soon as I can decently do so. Numerous persons of the court were kind enough last night to ask me to call upon them, and la Houze has bidden me to sup with him on Wednesday. I therefore plan to busy myself socially these next few days, and, in the meantime, see if I can find a ship which will carry me to Sweden towards the end of the week.’
‘That should not be difficult, as there is a large and constant traffic between Copenhagen and Stockholm.’
Roger acknowledged the information with a nod, and went on. ‘As to your other question; although I am now au fait with the domestic scene I still know next to nothing of Denmark’s foreign policy, and I’d be still more your debtor if you would give me a few pointers on that.’
‘Most willingly,’ Elliot smiled. ‘Denmark is still a maritime power of some consequence, but in other respects she is a poor country and seeks to keep herself free of entanglements. For many years her policy was governed by her anxieties over the Duchies of Schleswig-Holstein; since, as you may know, the Czarina’s late husband, Peter III, was a Holstein-Gotthorp and inherited the Duchies from his father. Peter’s claim to them was undoubtedly legal, and the idea of having a Russian army established on their border was, not unnaturally, viewed with the gravest apprehension by the Danes. However, in ’73 they succeeded in persuading Catherine to forego her claim to the Duchies in exchange for those of Oldenberg and Delmenhorst.’
‘That would appear to have been but a poor swop as far as the Russians are concerned,’ Roger commented.
‘ ’Twas indeed. And for that reason I have always suspected that there was something fishy about the deal—some secret clause in the treaty that has never been disclosed.’
‘ ’Tis certainly unlike all one hears of the Empress to give much for little.’
Elliot nodded. ‘Mayhap the real price was that Denmark should remain neutral in the event of Russia going to war with Sweden. Some years ago Denmark feared that Gustavus III harboured designs against her Norwegian territories, so it seems that her interest lies in a pact with Sweden which would secure them from his aggression. Yet now that more recently he has endeavoured to win Denmark to him his efforts have proved unsuccessful. Last year, soon after the outbreak of the Russian war against the Turks, King Gusta vus came here on a visit to his nephew, the Prince Regent, and did his utmost to persuade the Danes to enter into an alliance with him against Russia; but although the Prince and Count Bernstorff showed him much politeness, they firmly rejected all his overtures.’
‘That admittedly gives grounds for supposing that they are already bound to neutrality, as you suggest. If so, there can be little prospect of gaining their support for the Triple Alliance.’
‘None, I fear. Our only hope of counteracting Catherine’s designs in the north lies in Gustavus. He is an able and forceful monarch, with a strong ambition to revive Sweden’s ancient glories. ’Tis secretly reported that he is already receiving subsidies from the Turk and plans a campaign against Russia this summer. Twas that which made me feel that you would do well to make an early remove to the Swedish capital.’
‘I hope to obtain a letter of introduction from Baron la Houze to the French Minister in Stockholm,’ Roger remarked. ‘But it might be helpful, Sir, if you would also be good enough to furnish me with one for the British representative.’
The diplomat laughed a shade bitterly. ‘Had we one I would willingly do so; but for reasons best known to our Foreign Secretary the post has been vacant for some time; and I have no intelligence that it is likely to be filled in the near future, although it is now the key point of the north. In the meantime I am charged with a watching brief, but there is little I can do at such a distance.’
For a moment Roger was silent, then he asked: ‘What think you of Sweden’s chances against Russia should Gustavus decide to attack her?’
‘ ’Tis hard to say,’ Elliot shrugged. ‘While Russia remains fully extended against the Turks Gustavus will have her at a grave disadvantage. On the other hand he will, I think, be fighting with a half-blunted sword.’
‘How mean you, Sir?’
‘He is popular with his people but much disliked by his nobility; since he has deprived them of the pow
er they had held in earlier reigns. Therefore his officers will not follow him to war with any great enthusiasm. Moreover, he has not a single good General, whereas Russia is well-found in that way; and both her officers and men will show the most desperate valour against any foe that their Empress may order them to attack. Having fought in the Russian army myself I can vouch for its metal.’
Roger looked his surprise. ‘Sir James told me that as a youth you had military ambitions, Sir; but how came it that you saw service with the Russians?’
‘Simply because the British would not have me,’ came the smiling reply. ‘When I was ten a friend of my father’s exercised his right as Colonel of a newly-raised regiment to present me with a Lieutenant’s commission in it. Naturally my parents would not allow me to take it up until I had completed my education, but from that day I looked upon myself as a soldier. I spent two years at a military school in Paris before going to Oxford and afterwards resumed my military studies at Metz and Strasbourg. Only then did I learn that the War Secretary, Lord Barrington, had refused to ratify my commission with the seniority technically due to me.’
‘What a wretched stroke of fortune.’
‘Yes. I was most bitterly disappointed; because by that time I was nineteen, and I had no fancy to go in as junior to a dozen lads several years younger than myself. Instead I got the authorities to grant me the honorary rank of Captain with permission to serve in a foreign army. Austria seemed to offer the best prospects, as there were over five hundred British officers serving with the Austrian army at that time. But fortune proved against me in Vienna, and later in both Warsaw and Constantinople. I was in Bucharest, and almost in despair, when I learned that Russia was about to open a new campaign against the Turks, and that Marshal Romantzoff was forming his headquarters at Jassy. I had scarce heard the news when I received a letter from my father, ordering me home; but I ignored it and offered myself to the Marshal. Under him I was present at Giurgevo, where we were surprised and outnumbered by the Turks. Quite a tale was made of the manner in which I jumped over the heads and scimitars of a line of fierce-looking Janissaries right into the Danube, and swam across to the other bank; though the fact is that my only thought was to escape with my life, and that for more than half the distance I was clinging to the tail of a Cossack’s horse.’
‘I vow you’re being over-modest, Sir.’
‘Nay, ’tis the fact,’ Elliot laughed. ‘But ’twas a stroke of luck for me that the Russians should have taken it for a feat of valour. The Marshal gave me a most handsome mention in despatches and that, reaching my irate father’s ears, pacified him for my having run half-round Europe when I was supposed to be gone only for a sojourn in Vienna.’
‘How liked you the Russians?’
‘As soldiers and boon companions they left nothing to be desired; yet if I were ordered to Petersburg as Ambassador I confess that I’d set out with considerable misgivings. I recall, even now, a passage from a letter Sir James Harris wrote me during his Embassy; he said: ‘The monarch is an arrant woman—a vain, spoilt woman—with more masculine than manly virtues, and more female vices than weaknesses. The men in high life, monkeys grafted on bears, and those in lower, bears not inoculated. Religion, virtue and morality nowhere to be found; honour cannot be expressed in this language”.’
They had reached the gate of the British Legation, and as Elliot brought his mount to a halt he added: ‘But soon now, you will be able to form your own judgment of Semiramis and her people. When you reach Stockholm I suggest that you should endeavour to cultivate the acquaintance of the Russian Ambassador there, Count Andrew Razumofsky. Twill give you a foretaste of their style and character.’
Roger smiled. ‘I’ve already had that in certain dealings with Count Vorontzoff, their Ambassador in London.’
‘Even so, ’twould repay you to become persona grata with Razumofsky, if you can. That will not be easy. Like most of Catherine’s representatives he is as proud as a peacock, and considers no one less than a prince fitted to consort with him on equal terms. Yet he is high in the Empress’s confidence, and if you can flatter him into giving you the entree to his circle, ’tis just possible that he might speak before you as a Frenchman with a freedom he would never use in the presence of English ears.’
‘I will bear your advice in mind, Sir,’ Roger promised. Then he thanked the British Minister for all his help and kindness, and rode off through the gathering dusk back to the city.
He was, however, to see Hugh Elliot once more before leaving Copenhagen. Having found a four-masted barque that was sailing from the Oster Port for Stockholm on the afternoon tide of Saturday, the 12th of May, he gave a farewell breakfast that morning at a French restaurant he had discovered in the Reverentz Gaarten on Kongens Nytorv. The place was run by a Parisian named Mareschal, and he provided a most excellent meal at which Elliot, la Houze, Count Reventlow, and several other gentlemen who had entertained Roger during the past week, met to wish him a good journey.
At two o’clock in the afternoon Monsieur le Chevalier de Breuc went on board carrying a heavy cargo of good French Claret and a letter in his pocket from Monsieur le Baron la Houze to Monsieur le Marquis de Pons, the French Minister in Stockholm; and he did not feel that his fortnight in Copenhagen had been by any means wasted. The weather was moderately good and three mornings later the barque carried him through the lovely waterways that grace the entrance to the beautiful Swedish capital.
On going ashore he had his baggage carried to the Vasa inn; and after taking his midday meal there, sent a note to Monsieur de Pons asking when it would be convenient to present a letter from Monsieur la Houze. He then went out for a walk round the town.
When he got back he found to his surprise and pleasure that the French Ambassador had already sent a reply, which ran:
The annual entertainment which I give to celebrate the ascension of our gracious sovereigns to the throne should have been held on Thursday the tenth last; but has been postponed until tonight in the hope that H.M. King Gustavus will have returned to his capital and be able to honour us with his presence.
I pray you therefore, my dear fellow-countryman, to dispense with formality, and give me the pleasure of welcoming you to Sweden this evening.
I have the honour, etc., etc.
Enclosed was a large crested card showing the entertainment to be a Bal Masqué, for which guests were bidden to assemble at eight o’clock. So Roger promptly made arrangements at the inn for a coach to take him to the French Embassy, and hurried out again to get himself a domino.
In Stockholm, as in Copenhagen, he found that the shopkeepers as well as the upper classes all spoke either French or German, and at a big mercer’s in Paul’s Gatan he secured a pale blue domino and mask. Back at the inn he had a barber dress his hair in the prevailing French fashion; with side curls, toupet and turned up behind, and, for such an occasion, heavily powdered. The domino, like the loose, light costume of a pierrot, entirely concealed his long scarlet coat, gold-laced waistcoat and frilled shirt, but his quizzing-glass hung outside it on a black moiré ribbon. To complete his toilette he scented himself and put a beauty patch on the lower part of his left cheek. Then, at a little after seven-thirty, he went down to the waiting coach.
He had already ascertained that the French Embassy was a country mansion situated a little way outside the city on one of the many promontories that fringed the fjord, so he was not surprised when his coach left the cobbled ways and entered a belt of sweet-scented pine woods. About half-a-mile further on it turned a sharp corner, then suddenly swerved to one side of the track.
Recovering his balance Roger saw at once the reason for his coachman’s sudden swerve. Just ahead of them was another coach, a huge gilded vehicle with six horses, postillions and outriders; one of its wheels had come off and it was lying at an angle half in and half out of the ditch. Beside it, among the richly-liveried servants stood a big broad-shouldered man and a girl with flowers and feathers in her high-dressed hair.
Both of them were masked and wearing dominoes.
Roger at once called on his own coachman to halt and got out. In spite of the presence of the girl the owner of the broken-down vehicle was cursing his servants in French with language which would have made a fishwife blush. As Roger came up the angry man hit his coachman with his clenched fist and sent the poor wretch sprawling into the ditch.
After a loud cough to draw his attention, Roger said: ‘I see, Sir, that you are the victim of an unfortunate accident, and from your domino it appears that you were on your way to the French Embassy. Pray allow me to offer you and your lady seats in my coach.’
With a visible effort to swallow his rage, the man replied: I thank you, Sir. We are mightily obliged.’
Turning to the girl Roger made her a gallant leg, and said: ’Your servant, Mademoiselle. Permit me to introduce myself …’
But with a quick gesture of her fan she stopped him and laughed behind her mask. ‘Nay, Monsieur. I beg you to do no such thing. ’Tis quite romantic to be rescued from our predicament by a strange cavalier; and the whole object of our dominoes is to preserve the secret of our identity until midnight. Let us all retain our incognito until then.’
‘Willingly, Mademoiselle,’ smiled Roger, and he bowed his new acquaintances into his coach; then, getting in himself, swiftly took more careful stock of them.
The man was not particularly tall but immensely broad across the shoulders. His forehead was low and sloping, his hair, under the powder, black; as were also his eyes. Below the mask his lips showed full and red, and his heavy chin was thrust forward aggressively. The girl was a little above medium height, and her hair was only lightly powdered, as it was so fair as to be almost silver. Her eyes, which held a merry sparkle, were green; and although the domino concealed the details of her figure, Roger judged her to be slim. He naturally assumed them to be Swedes, and having remarked that he had arrived in Stockholm only that morning, began to praise the beauty of their capital.
The Shadow of Tyburn Tree Page 20