Roger had kept a record of the days, and it was the morning of April 19th when he and Mary left the Indian settlement in which they had stayed nine days. One of the big war canoes had been made ready with a good supply of provisions and tentage in it. Leaping Squirrel took twelve braves with him to propel the canoe, and four naked ‘foreheads’ as servants. With a specially-shaped paddle he steered the canoe from the stern, while Mary and Roger sat in front of him on piles of blankets.
They had some eighty miles to go, the latter part of the way lying through places where the river was so wide that it really formed a series of lakes; but, as they were heading downstream both along the tributary and later when they turned east into the St. Lawrence, they travelled at a good speed.
That night they landed and made camp on the south side of the river, for at that date the State of Vermont extended only to the latitude of Rouse’s Point, at the head of Lake Champlain, and all the territory north of it was still part of Canada. Having no fear of hostile Indians there, a camp fire was made and a good meal enjoyed; but afterwards they were put to the inconvenience of shifting camp a quarter of a mile further along the shore, as a swarm of huge, black ants had been attracted by the smell of cooking.
The following morning they made an early start and soon after midday emerged from a lake, crossed narrower water to the north shore, and landed on the island of Montreal.
Before leaving the settlement Mary had given two little, silver-topped bottles, one of which contained smelling salts and the other a residue of opium to dull pain, to the old squaws who had tended her. Now, wishing to leave the twelve braves some small souvenirs, she cut into strips a gaily-coloured, silk scarf that she had bought in New York, and tied a strip round the arm of each man. Their gratitude was profound and, kneeling in turn, they kissed the hem of her fur coat. Meanwhile, Roger had presented Leaping Squirrel with his sword, and nothing could have more delighted their cherished Indian friend.
After taking an affectionate leave of him, they hired a carriage on the waterfront and were driven to the Governor’s residence. Their clothes were so worn and stained that when Roger asked to see the Governor, the footman who had admitted them looked at him askance. Ignoring the man, Roger sat down at a table in the hall which had writing materials on it, and wrote a brief note, handed it to him and said abruptly:
‘Don’t stand there staring. Take that to His Excellency and be quick about it.’
Impressed by Roger’s air of authority, the servant’s manner instantly changed. Bowing, he took the paper and said, ‘His Excellency is from home, Sir, down at the headquarters in Ottawa. But I’ll take this to his deputy, Brigadier General Sir Wallace Warren.’
Roger had written in the note, ‘My wife, Lady Mary Brook, and I have recently succeeded in crossing the border from the United States. While there I obtained information that may be of value, and request the honour of an interview.’
His mention of Mary had been deliberate, as he felt certain that, on realising they were people of quality, the Governor would not fob them off on some subordinate. After a few minutes the footman returned, led them down a passage and ushered them into a handsome, book-lined room.
The General proved to be a short, stout little man with a rubicund face and slightly protruding blue eyes. Standing up, he came round his desk and greeted them cordially. In the course of the next few minutes Roger gave an abbreviated account of how they came to be in America and their adventures since leaving French Mills, then he said:
‘Perhaps, Sir, you would be good enough to give me the name of the best hostel in the city, where we can lodge in reasonable comfort and replenish our sadly depleted wardrobes before proceeding on our journey. I will, of course, wait upon you again at any time that may be convenient, to give you, or one of your officers, such particulars as I can regarding the forces of our enemy.’
‘No, no!’ the General protested quickly. ‘You must be our guests while in Montreal, and it is now too late in the day for you to purchase your requirements. Tomorrow will be time enough. My wife will be happy to lend Lady Mary a change of clothes for this evening, and we will dine informally.’
Roger gladly accepted the offer. A little later, Lady Warren joined them. She was elderly, white-haired and limped in, using a stick, as she was a martyr to arthritis. But her forbidding expression became a kindly one when she was told what Mary had been through and, with motherly concern, she took her upstairs. Sir Wallace then turned Roger over to his valet. An hour later, when they met again, bathed and in borrowed plumage, they felt like different people.
At dinner, besides themselves and the Warrens, there were only the A.D.C. and his wife: a pretty, snub-nosed, vivacious young woman. Over the meal the four residents were fascinated by the account Roger and Mary gave of their stay in an Indian settlement. Afterwards, when the ladies had retired, the General suggested that they should take their port into the library.
There, while the A.D.C. took notes, Roger gave particulars of the military situation on the other side of the river. Having spent so many years with armies, he was a highly-trained observer, so was able to provide an expert appreciation of the strength, morale and communications of the United States forces on that front.
During the three days that followed, Roger and Mary re-equipped themselves with clothes, portmanteaux and other necessities, mainly at the Hudson’s Bay Company’s store. They were surprised to find how large a proportion of the inhabitants of the city were of French descent and still spoke Canadian French; but they had been under British rule for fifty years and, their hereditary enemies having been the Americans, there could be no doubt where their loyalties lay. They had also largely contributed to making Montreal a more pleasant place in which to live than most American cities, for they had retained the culinary art of their ancestors. Roger and Mary discovered this on their second day, when the A.D.C. and his wife took them to dine at a restaurant in the old French quarter. It was the most sophisticated meal they had enjoyed for many a day.
On April 23rd they took leave of the hospitable Warrens, and went aboard a brig in which the General had secured passages for them down the freely navigable stretch of the St. Lawrence to Quebec.
The wind being favourable, the brig covered the one hundred and sixty-odd miles in good time, and they landed in Quebec on the 25th. Sir Wallace had provided Roger with an introduction to the Governor, Vice-Admiral Sir Cyprian Crow, so they were welcomed by him at Admiralty House that evening, on his return from inspecting the Royal Marine Depot. In the meantime they had been entertained by a Mrs. Rusholm, the Admiral’s widowed sister who, as he was a bachelor, had come out to run his house for him. She had at once invited them to stay and the Admiral became even more genial when it transpired that he had been a junior Captain under Roger’s father, the late Admiral Sir Christopher Brook.
That night there was a dinner party at which most of the other guests were officers, and Roger found that he shared mutual acquaintances with several of them. As Mrs. Rusholm employed a French chef, the meal was excellent, and the glasses were kept well filled throughout, so it proved a merry evening. After the loyal toast, the Admiral proposed, ‘To Hell and Davy Jones with the Americans’, which was drunk with enthusiasm by all.
Next morning Roger consulted his host about a passage back to England, Gouverneur Morris’s loan enabling him to add that he could afford to pay for the best accommodation available. Upon which the jovial sailor exclaimed:
‘Pay be damned! If my old chief’s son is not entitled to a free passage home, who in thunder is? I’ve a frigate with despatches sailing in the course of a week. You met Captain Saunders at dinner last night. He’s the “owner”. You and your lady will sail with him. Meantime, we’ll do our best to make your stay in this town of friendly frog-eaters as enjoyable as possible.’
So the matter was swiftly settled. During the next six days Roger and Mary were taken to see the Heights of Abraham, scaled in the night by General Wolfe’s troops to take by surprise in the morning and defeat those of the Marquis de Montcalm; to the great Château named after Cardinal de Richelieu who, long ago, had made eastern Canada New France; to see an inspection of recently-landed British reinforcements for the Army; for drives in the surrounding country and to dine and dance.
On May 2nd, they were welcomed by Captain Saunders aboard the thirty-two gun frigate Albatross and, a few hours later, to the thunder of a Vice-Admiral’s salute, waved good-bye to Sir Cyprian and his sister as the ship set sail for England.
During the voyage Roger suffered from his habitual sea-sickness, but neither so frequently nor so badly as he had done on his way to America, as that had been in midwinter, whereas now summer, with mostly blue skies and calmer seas, was the order of the day.
On the evening of Friday, June 11th, they docked at Portsmouth. The Lieutenant-Colonel carrying the despatches landed at once, to take them with all possible speed to the Prince Regent, and the Commander-in-Chief at the Horse Guards. Roger and Mary went ashore the next morning and drove to London in a hired coach.
As was his custom whenever he returned from abroad, Roger went straight to Amesbury House in Arlington Street, where his greatest friend, Lord Edward Fitz-Deverel had an upper floor as his personal suite, and always put him up. As it was the height of the London season, Roger felt certain that ‘Droopy Ned’—as Lord Edward was known to his friends, owing to shortsightedness which caused him to have a permanent stoop—would be in residence; but a footman told him that he was staying the night with friends at Twickenham, to attend a masked ball at the Duke of Northumberland’s mansion, Sion House. Neither was his lordship’s father there, for the Earl, now being over seventy and in poor health, rarely came to London.
However, the major-domo, who had known Roger since he was a boy, was sent for, greeted him warmly and assured him that Lord Edward would take it most ill if he and his lady slept elsewhere that night. So rooms were swiftly prepared for them, and a welcome supper sent up.
In the morning they rose late and, on going downstairs, learned that Droopy was not expected back until the late afternoon. Roger then took the first step in a policy that he had already decided to adopt. Fond as he was of Mary, he had no intention of being tied to her apronstrings, or ever giving anything but a vague indication of his doings when away from her. So, having settled her comfortably in the small library with the latest periodicals and news sheets, he said:
‘My love, I am now going out, and I’ll not be back for luncheon, as I have various matters to attend to. Some time, too, I must wait upon Lord Castlereagh to give him the latest news from America; but, while I am absent, I am sure that you will be well looked after.’
As he had expected, Mary, knowing that all his life he had been involved in foreign affairs at the highest level, made no great demur. Having kissed her good-bye, he took his hat and went out into the June sunshine.
But he did not proceed in the direction of Whitehall. Instead, on reaching Piccadilly, he turned left and walked down the hill to Kew House, one of the fine mansions that looked out over St. James’s Park, for it was there that his beloved Georgina normally lived during the London season, as she preferred it in the summer to Charles’s house in Berkeley Square.
To his great disappointment he learned that Georgina was not in residence, and was further distressed on being told that, a week before, the horses of her carriage had bolted, resulting in an unpleasant accident. She had suffered no serious injury, but her face had been badly bruised and she had broken her collar bone; so she had gone down to the country until she was sufficiently restored to appear again in society. However, on enquiring the whereabouts of Miss Brook, he was told that his daughter was there; so he had himself shown up to her boudoir.
It was over eighteen months since he had seen Susan, so he found that she was now a nearly full-grown woman, and a very pretty one. She embraced him with delight, then introduced him to, as she said, her dearest friend, Miss Jemima Luggala, who had been sitting gossiping with her.
As Jemima curtsied, Roger took in her tall figure and dark good looks with an appreciative eye, and thought what a pleasant contrast in colouring the two young beauties made. She at once offered to leave father and daughter together, but when it transpired she had been asked to luncheon, Roger said that of course she must stay, and invited himself to join them.
Having listened to particulars of Georgina’s accident, Roger said that he would take an early opportunity of going down to Stillwaters to see her. To his great annoyance, Susan told him that she was not there, but with her old Duke at Newmarket. His annoyance was due to the fact that at Stillwaters he and Georgina would have been alone together, whereas at Newmarket the Duke’s elderly sister was in permanent residence, and the only time he had stayed there she had made things so unpleasant for Georgina and him that they had decided it would be better if he did not visit there again.
The time sped swiftly by as Roger told Susan about the new wife he had brought back with him, and how they had been carried off to America. And Susan told him about Charles having bought a commission and gone to Spain; although how he was faring she could not say, as it was a long time since she had had a letter from him.
They were joined at lunch by Great-Aunt Marsham, who had played the part of a mother to Susan during Georgina’s absences from home, and was now acting as chaperone, so that Susan might continue to enjoy her nightly engagements during the London season. Over the meal he entertained them with accounts of the strange life led by Red Indians.
When he arrived back at Arlington House it was well on in the afternoon, and he found that Droopy Ned had returned earlier than expected. With him was his cousin, Judith Stanley, whose husband was with Wellington in Spain. She was staying in the house, and had accompanied Droopy down to Twickenham for the ball on the previous night.
Mary had been about to cross the hall as they came in at the front door, and had explained her presence to them a trifle nervously; but in a moment they had put her at her ease by their delight on hearing that Roger was safely home again, and that he had at last married an English girl as pretty and charming as herself.
She had already given them an outline of happenings to Roger and herself since they had left Sweden; but there was so much to tell that they talked on about the war with the United States and escaping across the St. Lawrence, with a break only while they changed for a late dinner. When the ladies had left the men at table, Droopy smiled across at Roger and said:
‘Congratulations, m’dear. I find your little Mary charming, if a little shy. She may not have the devastatin’ looks of your late lamented, but she’s far more to my taste.’
‘ “Late lamented” does not apply to Lisala as far as I’m concerned,’ Roger smiled back, ‘despite the fact that I was responsible for her death and that of that brute, von Haugwitz—although without intent. The female form divine never harboured a more evil mind.’
Droopy nodded, ‘You’re right in that; and ‘twas only by God’s mercy that, when tried and condemned for their deaths, you got off with a ten-year prison sentence, then escaped.’
‘I’m highly conscious of it, Ned. And nine years of that sentence, all but a few months, still stands against me did I get caught in Prussia. But that I’ll never be. It’s close on four years now since I formed the wish to go adventuring no more. I must have been out of my mind when I let patriotism get the better of my common sense, and allowed m’Lord Wellesley to talk me into accepting that mission to Prince Bernadotte. It involved me again in so many dangers.’
Droopy was one of the very limited number of people who knew about Roger’s secret activities. Having told him how he had had to go from Sweden to Russia, then became involved in the retreat from Moscow, Roger added, ‘But now, I vow, I’ll ne’er set foot on the Continent again.’
‘You honestly believe that your restless nature will allow you to settle down?’
‘I do. Admittedly, I found it difficult when I had the chance before and could spend happy hours with Georgina only infrequently. But now I have Mary, matters will be very different.’
‘Did you know that poor Georgina was the victim of an accident from which she is now convalescing?’
‘Yes. This day I took luncheon with Susan and learned of it from her. To my fury she told me that instead of going to Stillwaters, Georgina is at Newmarket.’
Droopy shrugged. ‘She has ever kept the pact she made with old Kew when she married him—that, however she chose to amuse herself in private, she would maintain the outward appearance of being his good Duchess. To do that she must needs spend a fair part of the year at Newmarket; so doubtless, being temporarily incapacitated, she felt this a good opportunity to put in some weeks there.’
‘Then I must resign myself to waiting a while before I have the joy of beholding her again. Now, Ned, what of the war? You ever have your ear to the ground, and I know no better source of reliable information.’
‘The best news is that the new Coalition, which I gathered from m’Lord Wellesley you initiated by bringing Sweden and Russia together, has matured into a formidable combination. Both countries have since openly broken with Bonaparte and become our allies. In March Prussia also threw off the hated yoke, and made a fourth, sworn to put an end to French aggrandisement. The latest is that, on June 4th at Pläswitz, an armistice was agreed which is to last until July 20th.’
‘Now that we again have allies on the Continent, I regard an armistice as deplorable. Napoleon’s army having been so vastly weakened by his disaster in Russia, he should have been harassed without respite until totally defeated.’
‘Maybe that could have been done had this new Coalition been formed earlier; but, throughout the winter, all was sixes and sevens. In Poland and Prussia the utmost confusion reigned. There were still many thousands of French troops in those countries—enough at least for Prince Eugène, who was given command there, to form a formidable army and to continue maintaining garrisons in all the principal fortresses. On his right flank, Schwarzenberg defected and marched his Austrians home, and on his left flank von Yorck defied his King and took his Prussian Corps over to the Russians; but the Muscovites had been so weakened by their long pursuit of the French that it was mid-January before they had recruited their strength sufficiently even to cross the Vistula.
‘Meanwhile, as you can well imagine, back in Paris Bonaparte had been far from idle. The reinforcements he sent to Eugène and St. Cyr enabled them to check the Russian offensive on the line of the Oder. It was nearly the end of February before King Frederick William plucked up the courage to sneak away from his French masters in Berlin and, having reached Breslau, disclose the fact that he had entered into an alliance with Russia and ourselves.’
‘Every musket that can be turned against Napoleon is a help,’ Roger remarked. ‘But, unfortunately, Prussia is very far from being what she was in Frederick the Great’s day. When Davout defeated them at Auerstadt, with the odds of three to one against him, and Napoleon chased them from the field at Jena, that took the heart out of their army. Then, by the treaty of Tilsit, the Czar and Napoleon between them brought the country near to ruin. They reduced her territory to four provinces and her population to a mere four and a half million.’
‘’Tis true she’s been sadly crippled, but I’m told they are arming every man between the ages of sixteen and sixty, and that even women are volunteering.’
‘I can well believe it. Two autumns ago their hatred against the French had already reached such a pitch that they were ripe for revolt. It was an anti-French riot by students that enabled me to escape from prison. It’s on the cards that, now they’ve been given their heads, they’ll fight as fanatically as the Spaniards.’
‘I’m told, too, that in addition to von Yorck they have some good Generals.’
‘Yes. Scharnhorst and Gneisenau are both most able men. There is also old Blücher. He is said to be a rough diamond with little education, but makes up for that by his fiery patriotism and fighting spirit. He is a veteran whom his men would follow anywhere.’
‘Scharnhorst is no more. He was killed in Silesia.’
‘That is bad.’
‘He lost his life in one of the first clashes with the Prussians that occurred after Bonaparte arrived to take command of the French forces in person.’
‘When was that?’
‘Toward the end of April. He had mustered two armies, one commanded by Ney on the lower Main, and another by Eugène on the middle Elbe. They concentrated under him between Halle and Jena, then advanced on Leipzig. At that point he was greatly superior to the Russians and Prussians, having two hundred thousand men against their eighty thousand; and, at a place called Gross-Görschen, near Lutzen, he inflicted a severe defeat on them.’
Roger sighed. ‘It seems that other Generals stand little chance against his genius. Somehow he always succeeds in forming these concentrations against inferior forces at exactly the right place and time. What then?’
‘Bonaparte passed on swiftly to Dresden, while Ney pushed back the Prussians under von Bülow. The allies withdrew behind the Spree to Bautzen and there, on high ground, made a stand. But you are so right, Roger. The Devil himself must inspire that Corsican brigand. The allies mustered only one hundred and ten thousand men. He attacked their centre himself with one hundred and twenty thousand, brought Ney up on the right with another eighty-five thousand, and still had Davout with thirty thousand more on the Elbe. Fortunately, he lost so many thousands of horses in Russia that he is still very weak in cavalry; whereas the allies are strong. It was that alone that saved them from complete defeat.’
‘The picture is much worse than I had supposed,’ Roger said glumly, ‘and I see now why the allies agreed to an armistice.’
‘It could prove of advantage to either side. The levies Bonaparte is calling up from France, Italy and Illyria will be reaching him in greater numbers, and the veterans he is recalling from Spain. On the other hand, further divisions are on their way from Russia; and, about a fortnight since, Prince Bernadotte landed in Stralsund with a Swedish Army of twenty-four thousand men, which has not yet been in action. But bringing about the armistice was mainly due to Prince Metternich.’
‘Is Austria still allied to France?’
‘Nay, she has become neutral, and the Prince is playing a most skilful game. He is greatly averse to Bonaparte continuing to dominate Europe, and equally so to Russia becoming more powerful. In the hope of preventing either, he is now acting as mediator, and hopes to bring about a permanent peace. Meanwhile, he is rebuilding the Austrian Army into so powerful a force that, if flung in on either side, it could prove the deciding factor.’
Roger nodded. ‘With the one exception of my old friend, Talleyrand, I count him the cleverest diplomat of our age. Have you any idea what his proposals are for converting this armistice into a permanent peace?’
‘Yes. I had them from m’Lord Castlereagh himself. The price Metternich is demanding of Bonaparte for Austria not joining the allies is that both the Grand Duchy of Warsaw and the Confederation of the Rhine, created by him as vassal states, should be abolished, the re-establishment of the Free Hanse Towns, the return to Prussia of the territories of which she has been robbed since 1805, and the return to Austria of her Illyrian provinces. Knowing the Corsican so well, Roger, think you he will agree?’
Roger helped himself to another glass of port before replying:
‘I would were I in his shoes, Ned, for those conditions are not unreasonable. He would be left with a France considerably larger than when the Bourbons ruled it, Holland, Switzerland, the Belgian lands and the greater part of Italy. After twenty-odd years of war, France has been bled white, and I’d wager any money that her people would gladly give up every conquest the Emperor has ever made, if only he would give them peace. Spain has long been a running sore and, as I learned from Susan this noon when she told me young Charles is now there, the Duke is besting in turn every Marshal sent against him.
‘Yet I greatly doubt if the Emperor will accept Metternich’s terms. The devil of it is that these past few years he has become the victim of folie de grandeur. He’ll no longer listen to the wise counsel of his old friends, and counts himself omnipotent. He will persuade himself that, as he has an Austrian Princess for wife, his father-in-law can be counted on to hold Metternich back and that then, with only the Russians, Prussians and Swedes against him, he’ll be able to perform another miracle.’
‘I pray God he doesn’t,’ Droopy said soberly. ‘England needs peace near as badly as France. His damnable Continental System has brought thousands of our merchants to ruin. Yet, whatever happens, we must see it through to the end. If only Austria would come in before the winter, we might hope for final victory.’
Roger raised his glass. ‘Let’s drink to that. But I’ve now played my part and, victory or defeat, I’ll not be there to see it.’