Evil in a Mask (56 page)

Coming round from behind the desk, Napoleon stretched out his plump, beautifully-modelled hand, seized the lobe of Roger's left ear and tweaked it painfully. While making this curious gesture of approbation, he said, ‘Very well, then, you amorous scoundrel. You are reprieved. For that you must thank the Empress.'

Hardly daring to believe that he had heard aright, Roger went down on one knee and kissed the hand Josephine extended to him. Quickly she raised him and cried, ‘You owe me nothing. I felt sure that all the time the Emperor was only trying to frighten you. He has far too big a heart to behave harshly to an old friend.'

Roger admired her tact, but had the gravest doubts about her statement as applying to himself before she had come upon the scene. Meanwhile, she was going on, ‘You must Join us for supper and it will be quite like old times. Afterwards I will read you Aimée's letter, and you must tell us all about your recent adventures.'

Napoleon nodded, and said, ‘You were right about the state of Spain. It is causing me considerable concern. Tomorrow you can go into the matter with Berthier. He will find plenty of ways in which we can make good use of you.'

Bowing his acquiescence, Roger suppressed a sigh. Although he had had a miraculous escape, gone was all prospect of a speedy return to England. Once more he had been caught in that tangled web, on the unravelling of which depended the future of Europe.

Josephine proved right, in that supper was very reminiscent of the informal meals that Roger had enjoyed in the old days at Malmaison, with only a few intimate friends present. As a raconteur he was at his best and, rallying himself after the ordeal through which he had just passed, he held the interest of the small company with an account of the trials and tribulations he had suffered both voyaging to and in Brazil.

Then he told them about his marriage. Everyone congratulated him, and Josephine cried, ‘Now I can reward you myself for saving dear Aimeé. You must send for your wife, and I will make her one of my ladies.'

But Napoleon habitually ate fast, so the meal was soon over, and they adjourned to a small drawing room. After such suppers at Malmaison, they had often played charades or the First Consul had had all the candles but one put out and frightened the ladies by telling ghost stories. Those days were gone and, having listened with slight signs of impatience while Josephine read Amée's letter, he began to fire questions at Roger about Syria, Mesopotamia and Persia. Roger's replies were always swift and to the point; and, by the end of the evening, he was confident that he had again established himself in the Emperor's good graces.

Next morning he reported to Berthier. The dome-headed little Chief of Staff spread out a map on which were marked the places in Spain where there had been outbreaks of rebellion and the estimated numbers of the insurgents. The picture was even more formidable than Roger had been led to believe. Moreover, Berthier told him that a Convention had been formed by leading representatives of all the groups to co-ordinate measures against the French; but where it held its meetings was unfortunately unknown.

That evening, Roger wrote to Lisala, telling her that he would be remaining with the Emperor, of the honour the Empress proposed to do her, and that she should set out for Madrid as soon as possible. He also wrote to Junot asking, in view of the unsettled state of the country, to provide an escort for her.

During the ten days that followed, alarming reports of the state of the country continued to pour in. The news of the revolts that had broken out spontaneously in half a dozen places had acted like dynamite on the whole people. With incredible speed, the long-suffering Spaniards in every city, town and village had loosed their hatred of the French. With fanatical zeal they had taken up arms to destroy their oppressors. Blood-lusting mobs had seized Mayors and other authorities who were puppets of the French administration and hanged
them in the squares. Many considerable towns were now in the hands of the insurgents. They gave no quarter, and small bodies of French troops were continually ambushed and murdered.

Then the news arrived that, on July 4th, Canning had entered into an alliance with the Convention representing the people of Spain. Grimly Napoleon had to accept the fact that Spain, for so long his unwilling ally, had gone over to the enemy and was now, officially, at war with France.

With his usual dynamic energy, he issued innumerable orders, concentrating his troops in vital areas. The road from Bayonne via Burgos to Madrid was to be kept open at all costs. Bessières, with eighty thousand men, would hold the north; Dupont, with another army, would suppress the revolts in the south. But on July 20th the most staggering news came in. After early successes, General Dupont, his troops weighed down with plunder, had been forced to retire into Beylen. On the previous day he had surrendered and his twenty thousand men had laid down their arms.

Napoleon's fury knew no bounds. He was escorted to his apartment, screaming curses. When he had been somewhat calmed down, he sobbed, ‘Could I have expected that from Dupont, a man whom I loved and was rearing to become a Marshal? They say he had no other way to save the lives of his soldiers. Better, far better to have died with arms in their hands. Their death would have been glorious; we should have avenged them. You can always supply the place-of soldiers. Honour alone, when once lost, can never be regained.'

It was a terrible blow, for it shattered the Grand Army's belief in its invincibility, and the surrender of one of its corps to a rabble of peasants armed with ancient shotguns, scythes and pitchforks was the last ignominy.

On the 22nd, Lisala arrived. She had delayed to collect as much money as she could. With her she also brought her old nurse, Josefa Bilboa. She had a nerve-racking journey as, in spite of the escort of Chasseurs supplied by Junot, her convoy had been fired upon three times. One of the men had been killed and several wounded; but she had escaped unharmed.

Although Lisala was now six months pregnant, her condition was still not obvious at first glance and, when Roger presented her to Josephine, her striking beauty made a great impression on those present. The Empress received her with the greatest kindness and told her at once that only very light duties would be expected of her, as she must rest a lot and take care of her health.

As a married couple, the de Breucs were given a comfortable suite, and Lisala soon made friends with several of Josephine's ladies. But she was greatly disappointed by the Court. She had heard so much of the magnificent balls and fêtes given by the Emperor whenever his headquarters were in a city, and had expected life in Madrid to be a round of pleasure. Instead, the inmates of the Palace now lived much as they would have done had they been in a well-provisioned fortress.

Since the revolt, all social activities had ceased. The ladies were forbidden to leave the Palace and had to while away the time as best they could with needlework and music. The brilliantly uniformed Staff Officers could give no time to entertaining them. Roger and his companions spent many hours each day writing despatches, sifting intelligence and routeing convoys of food and ammunition to isolated garrisons. They could snatch only hasty meals, and often did not get to bed until the early hours of the morning. Sweating and dust-covered, an unending succession of couriers clattered in and out of the courtyard. The Emperor, stern and gloomy, was rarely to be seen.

In spite of the continued success of the insurgents, Napoleon still refused to recognise the magnitude of the struggle with which he was faced. He stubbornly maintained that, given good leadership, twenty-five thousand French troops could quell the rebellion. Then, early in August, he suddenly decided to return to Paris. Overnight everyone began hastily to pack, scores of coaches and wagons were mustered, and the mile-long cavalcade took the road to France.

It was a far from pleasant journey. The broiling sun on the roofs of the coaches made the interiors like ovens; and, in many places, owing to lack of habitable accommodation, their
stifled occupants had to sleep in them. Daily couriers overtook them, with news of further French reverses. The surrender at Baylen had injected into the Spaniards a positive conviction that only courage was needed to drive the French out of Spain.

In the north-east the hardy Catalans had risen and, by sheer audacity, forced the French to retire into the fortresses at Barcelona and Figueras. In Aragon, Saragossa had become the scene of appalling slaughter, with ferocious street fighting, in which the French garrison was driven from house to house.

Joseph, now King of Spain, had arrived in his new capital a few days after Napoleon's departure. He remained there only a week. Fearing that a great body of insurgents which was marching on Madrid would capture it, he had fled with the army of which he was the titular Commander, north to the far side of the river Ebro. Savary had given up the line of the Upper Douro, and was fighting a rearguard action in an attempt to join up with Bessières. Finally, to crown this tale of woe, when they reached Paris they learned that a British army under the command of Sir Arthur Wellesley, had landed in Portugal and was advancing on Lisbon.

As soon as the Court had settled into its quarters in the Palace of St. Cloud, Roger went to call on Talleyrand. The elegant Prince de Benevento had just finished entertaining some friends to an epicurean breakfast. When they had taken their leave, leaning on Roger's arm he led him into a small library, and the two old friends settled down to talk.

They had no secrets from each other. After Roger had given an abbreviated account of his doings in Turkey, Persia, Brazil and, finally, of his narrow escape from spending five years in a fortress, the great statesman laughed and said:

‘That so resourceful a man as yourself should have been outwitted and kidnapped by your charmer I find most amusing; but your escape from the Emperor's wrath shows that your lucky star is still in the ascendant. You are lucky, too, to be out of Spain. From the reports I receive, I gather all hell has been let loose there.'

‘It has, indeed, although our little man refuses to recognise it.'

‘He has become the victim of
folie de grandeur
, and will no longer listen to anyone. By his treatment of the Spanish royal family at Bayonne, he signed away Spain. That was the match that lit the bonfire. They are, admittedly, the most miserable people; incompetent and cowardly to the last degree. But that does not alter the fact that they are venerated by the Spanish masses.'

‘I am told that you had them for a while at your chateau of Valençay.'

‘Yes, although Napoleon has lost his judgment he retains his cunning. He sent them to me in order to implicate me in his treatment of them; although, from the beginning, I have made it plain to him how strongly I disapprove of his intentions regarding Spain.'

‘What of the rest of Europe?'

Talleyrand shrugged. ‘He has sown the wind and will reap the whirlwind. Austria is again arming against us. The Archduke Charles and Prince Metternich are counselling caution; but others, who have the Emperor Francis' ear, are impatient for revenge. Prussia is seething with hatred for the humiliations we have put upon her; King Frederick William is a broken reed; his Consort, Queen Louisa, a most gallant lady, but her influence is not strong enough to make her husband defy Napoleon. In Prussia, as in Spain, resistance will not come from the top, but from the people. Stein is busy modernising their Army; student bodies and the intellectuals are already openly urging the people to revolt. To all appearances our little man is now at the summit of his power; but it is only a matter of time before his ruthless ambition brings about his downfall.'

‘How stand our relations with Russia?' Roger asked.

‘That is difficult to answer. Outwardly there have been no signs of their deterioration since the pact made at Tilsit. But I have a feeling that, underneath, all is not well. Napoleon senses that, too, and is anxious to consolidate his relations with the Czar by another meeting. That was his reason for returning
from Spain. Endeavours are being made to arrange one; but Alexander is averse to coming to Paris, and Napoleon will not go to Moscow. No doubt some neutral city will be chosen for a Conference. There Napoleon will produce his great plan for the aggrandisement of both Empires. It is that they should join forces, attack Turkey and divide the vast territories of the Sultan between them. The Czar is to have the Danubian lands, Bulgaria and all Turkey in Europe; while France takes Egypt and Turkey's dominions in Asia as a springboard to India.'

Roger smiled. ‘I must congratulate Your Excellency upon your private intelligence service. It keeps you remarkably well informed about matters up to the latest moment.'

‘No, no!' Talleyrand took a pinch of snuff. ‘Napoleon sent for me last night, and himself told me his intentions.'

‘Indeed!' Roger raised an eyebrow. ‘But when on my travels, I heard it said that you were no longer Foreign Minister.'

‘True, dear friend; quite true. After Tilsit I decided to resign. I had become weary of giving advice that was not accepted, and drawing up treaties of which I strongly disapproved—treaties which, in my view, must ultimately lead to the ruin of France. Napoleon was much annoyed, but could scarce ignore the many services I have rendered. As you must be aware, there were a very limited number of High Dignitaries created when our little man crowned himself Emperor. Joseph was made Grand Elector, and Louis High Constable. On my retirement, I was made Vice-Grand Elector, with equal status to the others, and an additional half-million francs a year reveaue; so I did not do too badly. Our old enemy, Fouché, put about a rather delightful
mot
concerning my elevation. He said, “It is the only Vice that Talleyrand had not got”.'

Roger roared with laughter. Then he said, ‘Although you no longer hold the Foreign Office portfolio, apparently Napoleon continues to consult you.'