Evil in a Mask rb-9

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Evil in a Mask rb-9 Page 10

by Dennis Wheatley


  Roger shook his head. 'I would not count on it, Sire. Bona­parte's greatest assets are his organising ability and the speed with which he carries out his intentions. You may be certain that, within twelve hours of his having been checked at Eylau, his Chief of Staff was sending scores of couriers to every country now under French control—Poland, Hanover, the Confederation of the Rhine, Holland, Piedmont, Vcnetia, Dalmatia and Italy, as well as France—demanding the im­mediate despatch of reinforcements. It would not surprise me if he had not doubled his numbers by the time you engage him in another pitched battle.'

  'Perhaps,' remarked Czartoryski. 'But most of his troops will be newly-conscripted, and of poor quality. From the con­duct of certain regiments at Eylau and the prisoners we took there, it became evident to us that the Grande Armee is no longer the formidable force it was at Ulm and Austerlitz.'

  'True, Prince,' Roger agreed. 'The foreign elements natur­ally resent having to go to war for the aggrandisement of France, and the French no longer display the elan that they did, except when under the eye of the Emperor or there is easy loot to be had. Most of them long to be done with cam­paigning, and return to their homes. That applies even to many of the Marshals. They would be only too glad to cease having to risk their lives and, instead, spend their remaining years enjoying their wealth and honours.'

  The Czar took a pinch of snuff. 'They must be a most un­usual body of men, and one cannot know too much about the personalities of enemy Generals. Tell me what you know of them.'

  Roger smiled. 'The only thing they have in common, Sire, is their comparative youth, combined with long experience of war. Of those on the active list, if one excepts Berthier, the Emperor's Chief of Staff, and the dull Moncey, who is Chief of the Gendarmerie, their average age is a little over forty. They are a self-opinionated, quarrelsome lot and so bitterly jealous of one another that no lesser man than Napoleon could keep them in order. Massena is probably the most skilful of them; but when they were created Marshals in 1804 and a friend congratulated him, he exclaimed in disgust, "I see nothing to be pleased about—just one of fourteen." ' 'I thought he created eighteen,' interjected the Prince. 'There are, but four of them—Kellermann, Lefebvre, Perignon and Serurier—are only honorary Marshals, given the rank for their services in the Revolutionary wars. The Emperor's policy, as you may know, has been to overcome the antagonism of the most influential Jacobins who resented his making himself a monarch, by elevating them, too. Lannes, Augereau, Jourdan and Bernadotte were all red-hot Repub­licans, but have since come to heel. The last, although his worst enemy, he made Prince of Ponte Corvo, whereas most of the others he made only Dukes.'

  'Whom would you say was the bravest of them?' asked the Czar.

  'Ney, Lannes and Murat must share that honour, Sire. As a cavalry leader, Murat is incomparable. He leads every major charge himself, in uniforms he has designed, smothered in gold and jewels, and wearing a busby from which sprout white ostrich feathers a foot high.'

  'And the most able?'

  'Massena, Soult, Mortier and Davoust. When they were created, all the others sneered at Davoust's being included among them; but he has since more than justified it. At Auerstadt, without aid or direction from the Emperor, he won a great victory over an army more than twice the size of his corps, and since, so I have been told, he saved the French from defeat at Eylau. Perhaps I should include Berthier: not as a General, but in his own highly-specialised work. That big head of his is a living card index. He could tell you at any moment where every unit in the Army is, and how long it would take to move it from one place to another. As a Chief of Staff, he is incomparable.'

  'You have not mentioned Bessieres or Brune.'

  'Bessieres' promotion was also resented by the others, Sire, on account of his youth. But, as Commander of the Imperial Guard, with no disrespect to your own Household troops, he has made his corps probably the most formidable fighting force in Europe. As for Brune, he is a nonentity, and received his baton only because he defeated the English when they sent an expeditionary force to Holland, shortly before Napo­leon got back from Egypt. But any bonehead could have out-generalled a man as stupid as our Duke of York.'

  'What of those who were passed over?' enquired the Prince. 'From what I have heard, Marmont, Macdonald, Suchet, Victor and Junot seem to have proved just as able as several of the others.'

  Roger laughed. 'The rage they displayed for weeks had to be seen to be believed. Mortier was made virtual Viceroy in Dalmatia, and why he did not get his baton I cannot think. Macdonald, Suchet and Victor also deserved theirs for their fine performances in Italy. But Junot, no. Napoleon realised that he would be hopeless as a corps commander; but he never forgets his old friends, and Junot practically kept him years ago when he had very little money, so he consoled him by making him Military Governor of Paris.'

  They talked on for another hour about Napoleon's mili­tary campaigns and his ability as an administrator. At length, the Czar said, 'Upstart though he may be, I cannot but admire the man for the way in which he has restored France from a state of anarchy to good order, and in his new code of law he has embodied many benefits that I should like to grant to my own people. For obvious reasons, Mr. Brook, I must con­tinue to treat you as a prisoner; but as soon as I can, I will arrange an exchange for you, and I have good hopes that in the months to come you will find means to convey to me in­formation about Napoleon's intentions, that will prove of value.'

  'That will not be easy, Sire,' Roger said throughtfully. 'Can you suggest any means by which I might do so?'

  It was Adam Czanoryski who replied. 'You may have been misled by what you have seen of the Polish people. My nation is divided. One half believes the vague promises of Bona­parte that, given their aid to defeat Russia, he will restore Poland's independence. The other half, which includes most of our noble families and intelligentsia, puts no faith in the half-promises of this self-made Emperor, who is known many times to have broken his word. They prefer to place their trust in His Imperial Majesty, who has assured them that, under the protection of Russia, he will grant Poland independent government. It should not be difficult for you to make the acquaintance of a number of Polish officers at present serving with the French; sound them out about their political views and, when you find one or more who are in arms against Russia only with reluctance, persuade them to desert at the first opportunity and bring with them any useful information you may have for us.'

  Roger believed that he owed his life to the fact that, except on very few occasions when he had seen no alternative, he had never divulged to anyone that he was a secret agent; so he at once decided against adopting the Prince's suggestion. Never­theless, he replied:

  'That is certainly an idea worth exploring. But should favourable circumstances arise in which I can, without undue risk of being killed, allow myself to be captured again, that is what I will do; for I could then give you a far more complete picture of the situation of the French than I could con­vey through any messenger.'

  The interview being over, Alexander extended his hand for Roger to kiss, and he bowed himself out from the Imperial presence, to be again escorted by the waiting Chernicheff back to his quarters.

  A fortnight went by, during which time he had three more long talks with Prince Adam about the state of the French Army; but, except for these, he idled his time away reading French books, of which a great number were available in the Palace library.

  It was on the morning of the last day in March, that Chemicheff greeted him with a cheerful smile and said,' 'Your ex­change has been arranged. I have orders to escort you to a village on the Alle, a few miles above Allenstein, and there the exchange will take place.'

  This meant a journey of some one hundred and ten miles, but the thaw had set in so, instead of a sleigh, they were able to go in a well-upholstered travelling coach, accompanied by outriders who acted as servants, and with a stock of pro­visions that were cooked for them whenever they decided to halt and have a
meal. In most places the snow was melting fast and pouring away in thick, muddy streams to swell rivers and lakes; in others the remains of great drifts of it still formed solid ice mounds several feet in height, over which the coach had to be manhandled; so it was four days before they reached Allenstein, where they spent the night.

  Early on the morning of the fifth, Roger said good-bye to Chcrnicheff and, at some peril, was ferried across the rushing river Alle, under a flag of truce. Waiting on the far bank was a Russian Colonel, who greeted him warmly. Shaking hands, they congratulated each other on their restoration to freedom; then the Russian boarded the ferry to rejoin his countrymen.

  The French officer who received Roger told him that, after remaining in the neighbourhood of Eylau for a week, to establish his claim to victory, the Emperor had withdrawn beyond the river Passargc and the upper Alle, where the Army had since remained in winter quarters. Thorn, right back on the Vistula, had become the main base of the Army, but its headquarters were at Osterode, only some twenty miles away.

  Furnished with a mount and an escort of four Hussars, Roger set out for Osterode, to learn, when he reached the town, that the Emperor was actually some distance away at the Castle of Finckenstein. On arriving there, he found it very different from Znamensk, which had not been much more than an old fortified manor house. Finckenstein was a vast, grim, battlemented pile, large enough to house several hun­dred people, and the central courtyard was crowded with mounted officers, and orderlies constantly coming and going.

  On enquiring for the Due de Friuli, Roger was glad to learn that his old friend was there. In the days before the Em­pire, the Duc had been simply Colonel Duroc, Chief A.D.C. to Bonaparte. Then, when the Court had been formed, he had been made Grand Marshal of the Palace or, when on a campaign, Marechal de Camp; but Napoleon had several times sent him on missions as an Ambassador—a use to which he not infrequently put the more intelligent of his military staff.

  Michel Duroc received Roger with open arms, listened with sympathy to his account of his misfortunes during the past two months, then brought him up to date with the situation of the French Army.

  Eylau had proved an even greater disaster than Roger had supposed. Augereau's corps, losing direction in the blizzard and infiladed by the Russian guns, had been so torn to pieces that it had had to be disbanded and its survivors drafted to other units. Napoleon habitually understated the French casual­ties in the bulletins that he issued after every major battle. On this occasion he had stated them to be one thousand nine hundred killed and five thousand seven hundred wounded; but the fact was that the effectives had been reduced by nearly thirty thousand men, and the forty-five thousand remaining were in dire straits.

  Meat was almost unprocurable and they were barely ex­isting on a meagre ration of biscuits and root crops. Their uniforms were in rags, scores of them froze to death every night and, the front being fluid, they lived in constant fear of raids by the fierce Cossacks, since their own cavalry was in­capable of protecting them, because their horses had been so weakened by semi-starvation that they could no longer be spurred into a gallop.

  Amazed, Roger exclaimed, 'But it is totally unlike the Em­peror to allow his army to fall into such a parlous state. Has he done nothing in these past two months to rectify matters?'

  Duroc shrugged.'After Eylau, he sent a plenitpotentiary to Frederick William of Prussia, offering to restore a part of his territories and forgo his earlier demand that Prussia should become his ally against Russia. But the Czar succeeded in browbeating that miserable, irresolute monarch into refusing our overtures.

  'Berthier or, as I suppose we should now call him, Marechal le Prince de Neuchatel, has since been working like a demon, calling up reserves from Poland, Bavaria, Saxony, the Rhine and has even blackmailed the Spaniards into send­ing a corps to retain Hanover for us, so that its French garrison can be brought up here. A new levy of eighty thousand men, or rather boys, has been ordered in France. It is the third within the past year and made eighteen months before these youngsters were due to be called up. Mortier, I mean the Duke of Treviso —I shall never get used to these new names—was recalled from keeping watch on the Swedish Army that is occupying Stralsund. A week ago, it took the offensive; so he is now marching his corps back to check its advance. Meanwhile Austria is again becoming restless and, should she join our enemies, could cut our communications with France.'

  'What a picture,' said Roger, making a gloomy face. 'And what of England? I take it she has not been altogether idle during this propitious time to make a telling thrust at her implacable enemy?'

  Duroc laughed. 'On the contrary, for the first time in years she has ceased to show her aggressive spirit. Our intelligence informed us that it was proposed to send an expeditionary force to support the Swedes in Stralsund. But she could mus­ter no more than twelve thousand men, so thought it beneath her dignity to make such an insignificant contribution to the war against us on the Continent. It is said that the Czar is disgusted with her as an ally who will neither send him mili­tary aid, nor even a substantial subsidy to help pay his own troops. All England's present ineffectual Government have so far done this year is to send a fleet that forced the Dar­danelles in February and appeared off Constantinople. Its object was to coerce the Sultan Selim into giving way in his dispute with Russia, so that the Czar would be in a position to withdraw many of his divisions from the Danube for use as reinforcements against us up here; and to dismiss our Am­bassador, General Sebastiani. But Sebastiani has Selim so effectually under his thumb and the people of Constantinople were so enraged by the insolent demands of the English that, in a single day, they dragged a thousand cannon up to the Bosphorus, did the enemy fleet much damage and forced it to retire with ignominy.'

  With a frown, Roger changed the subject. 'All you tell me of the situation here seems quite extraordinary. Berthier's ability to bring up reinforcements by roads on which they will not converge and become congested is known to us all. But what of the Emperor? Has he not used that great brain of his to devise some policy that would cause dissension among our enemies, so that they no longer have a concerted strategy and we could defeat them piecemeal?'

  'Mon ami, it is .quite a time since you have been with us at headquarters. Believe it or not, Napoleon has ceased to be interested in waging war. With him here he has the Countess Maria Walewska. Admittedly, she is a charming young crea­ture: dignified, modest, unambitious. Having now been re­pudiated by her old husband, she has accepted our master wholeheartedly, and he has become a changed man. The years have dropped from him, and his is like a youth in his teens; positively besotted by her. For weeks past they have been enjoying a honeymoon. For days at a time he never emerges from their suite, and refuses all pleas to discuss business. For ten days or more I have had here missions from both the Grand Turk and the Great Sophy. Only once has he consentcd to receive these Turkish and Persian emissaries. Yet both could prove invaluable allies in harassing the Czar. Naturally, they have become resentful and contumacious; but there is nothing I can do about it.'

  Roger expressed his sympathy, while inwardly much pleased that it looked as though, at last, England's arch­enemy was losing his grip and might, in a few weeks' time, be so thoroughly defeated by the Russians and Prussians that his gimcrack Empire would fall to pieces and Europe be restored to its pre-revolutionary state.

  Having asked Duroc to request an audience with the Em­peror for him as soon as possible, they adjourned to the senior officers' Mess. There Roger was greeted with delight by many of his old comrades; but several of them were missing, and he learned to his distress that they had died at Eylau.

  For three days Roger waited without receiving any sum­mons from his master, and he became more and more im­patient at the delay, because he had long been cherishing a means of getting out of Poland as soon as his exchange had been effected.

  For a long time past, he had owned a small chateau near St. Maxime, in the South of France and, on the excuse
of a weak chest, aggravated by a bullet through his lung at Ma­rengo, he had usually obtained long leave to winter there; which gave him an opportunity to slip over to England and report very fully to Mr. Pitt all that was going on in France.

  But this year he had been caught out. After returning to France in the previous May, he had thoroughly enjoyed his summer in Paris, and it was not his custom to apply for win­ter leave until December; so he had naturally accompanied the Emperor when, in September, he had left Paris to open his campaign against Prussia. After the double victory of Jena-Auerstadt, he had welcomed—being a born lover of travel and never having been to either Berlin or Warsaw— the chance of spending a few weeks in both those cities; so, when December had come, as he was no longer in the service of the British Government and, anyway, had nothing to re­port that could be of help to his now moribund country, instead of asking for leave he had lingered oh at the Emperor's headquarters. Napoleon's taking the field again in January, much earlier than anyone had expected, had put Roger in an awkward position. To have applied then to spend the re­mainder of the winter months in the sunshine of the South of France would be regarded as an act of cowardice by many of his comrades, who were unaware of his skilfully-established disability. In consequence, he had participated in the cam­paign which had ended for him at Eylau.

  However, as the thaw had only just set in and several weeks of cold, foul weather were still to be expected, he had made up his mind that, immediately he saw Napoleon, he would ask for two months' leave, in order to escape the miserable conditions that must continue to afflict the Army for some time to come. Instead, he would travel from Poland as swiftly as he could to the shores of the Mediterranean, where no one even thought of war, except to celebrate the Emperor's vic­tories with splendid dinners and lashings of champagne. There, as a rich and distinguished officer, he would lead a life of leisure, spiced with gay parties, in the company of elegant men, and pretty women who were not over-scrupulous about their morals.

 

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