The Ravishing of Lady Mary Ware (36 page)

Although at war with France, Alexander had already conceived an admiration for Napoleon, owing to the way in which he had brought order out of the chaos of the Revolution. So when in July 1807 the two Emperors met at Tilsit, on an elaborate raft in the middle of the river Niemen, he had completely succumbed to the Corsican's forcefulness and charm. In a matter of days they had agreed to carve up a good part of the world between them.

By then, after reigning for ten years, the Czar toyed with his idealistic ideas about reforms only occasionally. Instead, he had become something of a mystic and much
addicted to reading the Bible. Also, like his grandmother, he had ambitions to expand his Empire. The gentle Czartoryski was no longer his principal adviser, but Arakcheieff, his Minister of War: a rough and brutal, although devoted man.

Russia was already at war with Turkey along the lower Danube, and the two Emperors happily made a plan to divide the Sultan's vast Empire between them. Alexander was to have Turkey in Europe, which then included Serbia, Bulgaria and Greece; while Napoleon was to have Egypt, Palestine and Turkey in Asia, which would open the road for him to Persia and India. Meanwhile, he made no objection to Alexander's depriving the Swedes of Finland.

But things had not turned out in accordance with their grandiose plans. Alexander had conquered Finland, but by committing his best troops there, he was unable to make any appreciable headway against the Turks, which was the one thing that Napoleon wanted of him. Then they could not see eye to eye about Constantinople. The Czar claimed it, when the city had been taken, as part of Turkey in Europe. Napoleon would not agree to that, because it would have enabled Russia, should she become hostile, to cut his main line of communication with India. There was also, to Napoleon's intense annoyance, the Czar's passive refusal to carry out his promise of adopting the Continental System. Napoleon intended only to make use of him, and had become an egomaniac whose lust for conquest would never be satiated. Both now were arming for a mighty conflict, in which one of them must destroy the other. Thus matters stood when, shortly after one o'clock, Roger was ushered into the Imperial presence.

Alexander Paulovitch was then thirty-five years old, a fine, upstanding, handsome man with a roundish face and fair, curly hair. Extending his hand for Roger to kiss, he greeted him pleasantly:

‘Welcome again to our capital, Mr. Brook. Whence have you come?'

There being no necessity to beat about the bush, Roger replied, ‘From Sweden, may it please Your Imperial Majesty. I have spent some two months there, as the guest of the Prince Royal.'

‘That must have been an interesting experience,' the monarch commented. ‘We hear great things of our new neighbour. He proved himself an excellent administrator when acting as Napoleon's Viceroy in northern Germany, and his talents in that direction should greatly benefit his subjects. However, we are not so sanguine about his activities in his old capacity as a General. We are told that he is both reorganising and increasing the Swedish Army.'

Alexander's statement favoured Roger's design, but he had long since learned not to rush his fences; so he raised his eyebrows and said, ‘May I ask Your Imperial Majesty why you should be averse to his doing that?'

The Czar shrugged. ‘To a man of your intelligence, Mr. Brook, surely the reason for our concern is obvious? It is no secret that the Emperor is preparing to repudiate our alliance and wage war on us. The Swedes still bitterly resent our having taken Finland from them. Given favourable conditions they might attempt to win it back. Engaged in a death-struggle with the French, it would be most embarrassing for us to be attacked by a hostile army on our flank.'

Now that Alexander had openly acknowledged the dangers of his situation, Roger smiled, produced the
lettre de marque
from Bernadotte, and said, ‘Then I hope that I am the bearer of welcome tidings to Your Imperial Majesty. The Prince Royal has never had any love for the Emperor. Moreover, he has now become at heart, as well as by naturalisation, a patriotic Swede. He, too, is still allied to France, albeit unwillingly. Under certain circumstances
he would be prepared to face the Emperor's wrath by breaking that alliance and, given certain conditions, enter into a pact with Your Imperial Majesty.'

Alexander nodded thoughtfully. ‘This proposal is of obvious interest to us, Mr. Brook. But what are the Prince Royal's conditions? I fear he would require the return of Finland, and we should regard that as too high a price to pay.'

‘The Swedish Diet would naturally clamour for that, but the Prince Royal has already displayed so much wisdom in governing Sweden that I feel certain they would not seek to thwart any arrangements he entered into. Regarding Finland, he is prepared to let matters remain as they are. But he has ambitions in another direction. If he breaks his alliance with France, his alliance with Denmark will also lapse; and he has no love for the Danes. Would Your Imperial Majesty agree not to oppose his annexing Norway?'

‘This makes your proposals even more interesting, Mr. Brook. We will ask the views of our Ministers upon them. Meanwhile, you will become our guest. We will give orders for accommodation in the Palace to be allotted to you.'

Roger bowed. ‘I thank you, Sire. There is, however, another matter upon which I crave your gracious consideration.' Producing his other
lettre de marque
, he went on, ‘I arrived in Sweden from England, having been sent to the Prince Royal by my Government. The object of my mission was to endeavour to bring about a new Coalition consisting of Russia, England and Sweden. As I have had the honour to inform Your Imperial Majesty, subject to your agreeing Sweden's terms, she is willing to break with the French. She would then enjoy the protection of a British fleet which would be sent to the Baltic. That could also be of use to you, Sire, for it would ensure
supplies, and probably consignments of arms, reaching your ports.'

The Czar had glanced at the
lettre de marque
and now remarked, This is signed by the Marquess Wellesley. He is no longer Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, and has been superseded by Lord Castlereagh. We had this news only two days since. We are informed that seven years as a virtually autocratic monarch in India had rendered the Marquess so intolerably dictatorial that his colleagues in the Cabinet welcomed his resignation.'

This information was a blow to Roger, as it tended to undermine the authority vested in him by the
lettre de marque
; but he said quickly, ‘'Tis true, Sire, that the Marquess is a man of most haughty mien, but I have no doubt whatever that in this matter the Cabinet will endorse his policy, because it is in the interests of England to do so. Although for long periods Britain has sustained the war against France alone, she is as determined as ever to bring about the Emperor's downfall. Yet she needs peace as badly as does the rest of Europe, and the sooner it can be brought about the better for all concerned. It follows that, rather than allow further Continental nations to be defeated piecemeal, she is most anxious to give them her support; and so more swiftly bring about final victory.'

‘Your premises are sound, Mr. Brook, so we will also give our consideration to entering on an alliance with England.'

The audience being over, Roger bowed himself away. An hour later his belongings had been fetched from the Laughing Tartar and he was installed in a pleasant room in the Palace. The Hermitage was a magnificent building, and he delighted in visiting again the vast, heated conservatory erected by Catherine the Great, in which semi-tropical flowers flourished even in mid-winter.

He had also always enjoyed his visits to St. Petersburg, as it was no ancient city with narrow, smelly streets. It
had been built as a new capital only a little over a hundred years earlier, by Peter the Great. Instead of wood, all the principal buildings were of stone, and it was criss-crossed with splendid, wide boulevards, having on either side raised walkways of wood, so that the citizens should not have to trudge through slush in springtime, or be splashed with mud from passing vehicles.

During the next few days Roger called upon many of the friends he had made on previous visits: the Vorontzoffs, the Pahlens, the Panins, the Dolgourskis, the Galitzins and others, including a special friend he had made—a Captain Muriavieff of the Samenourki Guards. They all welcomed his return to St. Petersburg and he was soon enjoying a round of dances and receptions. Muriavieff was a member of the gayest younger set, and Roger accompanied him with his brother officers and numerous attractive young women, on skating and sleighing parties—the last of the season as the thaw was now setting in—and was his guest at several gala dinners in the Guards' Club.

The life he was leading was a most pleasant change after the two months he had spent in the puritanical society that inhabited the draughty Royal Castle at Stockholm. But, by the end of March, he was considerably worried about having made no progress with his mission. A week after his arrival in St. Petersburg, the Czar had left his capital, to carry out a series of reviews of his troops, which were concentrating in the neighbourhood of Moscow, and had not since returned. He did so on the 1st April, but only for one night and, to Roger's chagrin, refused him the audience he requested.

The Czar did not get back until the 12th April. Again Roger persistently applied for an audience, but in vain; and he had, for another eight days, to distract his mind as well as he could with amusements. This further delay increased his concern, although he had now even better
reason to hope that when he did see the Czar his reply would be favourable; for, soon after Roger had left Stockholm, Napoleon had overrun Swedish Pomerania, and Bernadotte had already broken with him.

It was not until the evening of April 20th that Alexander sent for Roger. Having politely hoped that he had been enjoying his stay in St. Petersburg, he said with a smile:

‘Well, Mr. Brook, the affair on which you came here has been satisfactorily settled, at least as far as Sweden is concerned.'

Roger bowed. ‘I am delighted to hear that, Sire. But I confess myself somewhat surprised that you did not send me back to the Prince Royal with your answer.'

‘We preferred to settle the matter ourselves. At our request the Prince Royal crossed the Baltic to Abo. A fortnight since, we had a most amicable discussion there. The recent failure of the Swedish Army to hold Pomerania has convinced him that, although his troops displayed bravery, they are not yet qualified to face Napoleon's veterans; and a campaign against Norway will prove excellent training for them. In return for our agreement to make no objection to his annexing that country, he has signed a pact of friendship with us. Later, when his army has become more reliable, he will enter into a full alliance with us, and personally bring his troops to aid us in defeating Napoleon.'

‘Then permit me to congratulate Your Imperial Majesty. The acquisition of the Prince Royal as a commander in the field should prove most valuable. When he was Marshal Bernadotte, he was accounted one of Napoleon's most able generals, and one cannot suppose that he has lost his flair for winning victories. And now, Sire, if I may enquire, what are your intentions toward England?'

‘There, too, we have acted. We decided to send one of
our most able diplomats secretly to London. He has our authority to enter into negotiations for an alliance.'

Roger looked distinctly aggrieved. ‘Again, Sire, I am delighted. But you must forgive me if I take it a little hard that you did not allow me to carry this good news to London.'

Alexander shook his curly head and smiled. ‘For that you must forgive us, Mr. Brook. Our reason for not doing so is that we have another use for you.'

Roger was seized with awful apprehension. What now? His conscience had driven him into going to Sweden as the Marquess Wellesley's secret envoy. Bernadotte had made it next to impossible for him to leave his task half done, by refusing to go on to Russia. He should have been back in England long since. Spring was already here. In a little over a fortnight it would be May; the great mansions of London open again and teeming with gaily-dressed, laughing people. Georgina would be among them, and it was the one time in the year when, for ten weeks, he could definitely count on being constantly with her. And here was the Czar, who had obviously deliberately detained him in St. Petersburg, now affably stating that he had a use for him.

Continuing to smile, Alexander said, ‘No doubt you will recall our meeting in Tilsit, Mr. Brook, in the spring of 1807. Anticipating a possible further advance by Napoleon, we were then removing our prisoners into the interior of Russia. You were among them, and still lame from a wound you had received. It was your good fortune that we elected to review the prisoners as they were marched out of the town. You seized the opportunity to throw yourself at bur feet, and begged to be spared from the long march which, in your condition, would almost
certainly have brought about your death. Do you remember that occasion?'

‘Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,' Roger admitted huskily.

‘You will also then remember that we and our then Minister, Prince Adam Czartoryski, had several talks with you. Some years earlier, in St. Petersburg, you had been presented to me as an Englishman; so it was clear to us that “
Colonel Breuc”
, as you called yourself at Tilsit, had penetrated Napoleon's entourage as a spy. Realising the great value you could be to us in that capacity, we agreed that instead of detaining you indefinitely as a prisoner we would arrange for your exchange with an officer of equivalent rank. In return you agreed to find out Napoleon's intentions for us, then allow yourself to be recaptured or, in some other way, inform us of them. Are we correct?'

Roger's mouth was dry. He swallowed hard. ‘Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.'