Roger was so nonplussed that for a moment he could not speak. Had he been sent to Elba a fortnight or even a week earlier, he could hardly have failed to become aware of Napoleon’s intentions, for he was not the man to undertake any enterprise, let alone such a desperate one, without making the most careful preparations. Many of them must have been obvious to anyone of Roger’s astuteness spending a few days in Portoferraio, and it flashed into his mind that it was to guard against the chance of his doing so that the Emperor had packed him off to spend most of that day on his trip to the iron mines at Rio.
The thought of Napoleon as once again master of France appalled him. It must inevitably lead to a reopening of the interminable war that had almost ruined Europe and killed or mutilated millions of her young manhood. Neither Britain nor Austria would ever consent to Napoleon again becoming Emperor of the French. But the Czar had become such a weathercock that no-one could predict what attitude he would take up. Out of hatred for Austria he might, as he had at Tilsit, enter on a rapprochement with Napoleon; and Prussia;, gorged with her newly-acquired territories, would probably remain neutral. If such a situation arose, the Emperor’s insatiable ambition might lead to further ghastly battles, with no foreseeable end to them.
Roger’s immediate instinct was to use every possible argument which might dissuade Napoleon from undertaking this rash adventure. While still General Bonaparte, he might have listened to the very real odds against its success, but since he had crowned himself in Notre-Dame, he had increasingly ignored the warnings and advice of his Marshals and others he had previously trusted. After his elevation to son-in-law of the Habsburg Emperor, his meglomania had become such that he would not even tolerate the expression of an opinion contrary to his own and, military genius though he was, it was a fact that in every campaign he had waged since marrying Marie Louise he had been defeated.
Realising the futility of any comment other than a favourable one, Roger exclaimed, after a moment of apparently breathless surprise:
‘Mon Dieu! But this is marvellous! What fantastic good fortune for me, Sire, that I should have arrived here in time to accompany you.’
‘My star brought you to me,’ Napoleon replied complacently. ‘My present A.D.C.s, picked from the officers of the Guard, are good fellows but have no experience of staff work. You, on the contrary, have spent years as a member of my personal entourage. Your knowledge of how I require things to be done will prove most valuable. You will, of course, be my A.D.C.-in-Chief, and I shall make you a General.’
Roger bowed. ‘Your Majesty is most generous. I am truly grateful. May I enquire when you took this momentous decision?’
‘I have been meditating on it for some time. It came to my ears that my enemies in Vienna were uneasy at leaving me here so close to the Continent. Both Metternich and Talleyrand have been urging that I should be removed either to the Azores or St. Helena. They would have found that easier said than done for, soon after I arrived here, I put Elba in a state of defence. I’ve mounted cannon with small garrisons on Pianosa and Palmajola, a smaller offshore island, and have a force of over a thousand devoted troops, who would fight desperately to prevent me from being carried off. But I could not have resisted a full-scale invasion by several divisions supported by a fleet.’
‘Your Majesty is really confident, though, that with the small force at your disposal you could reconquer France?’
‘Yes. Those idiot Bourbons have made a hopeless mess of things. As you remarked yourself a while ago, the Army has been treated most shamefully, and the small proprietors who purchased the lands of the émigrés dread being dispossessed. The reimposition of tithes, owing to the influence of that pious old bitch the Duchess d’Angoulême and her horde of greedy priests, has caused intense resentment. So you were wrong about France not being ripe for revolution. I know it, and my last doubts were removed by a letter I received a fortnight since, brought to me by Fleury de Chaboulon from Marat, the Duke de Bassano. You will remember him?’
‘Of course, Sire. He was your Foreign Minister before you gave the post to Caulaincourt.’
‘Yes, and he wrote urging me to return. He was always a cautious man, yet he states that the overthrow of the Bourbons is certain and imminent. But I must lose no time in reclaiming my throne, for a new threat to my regaining it has arisen. The Czar was persuaded, against his better judgement, to assent to the return of the Bourbons, and the English are disappointed in them because they have failed to govern democratically. Since Louis XVIII has proved so inept, it is now suggested that he should be replaced by the head of the younger branch of the Bourbons.’
‘What! The Duc d’Orleéans? But, Sire, his father was a regicide. He voted in the Assembly for the death of his cousin, Louis XVI.’
‘Exactly.’ Napoleon gave a cynical laugh. ‘And was later guillotined himself, in spite of having endeavoured to curry favour with the mob by calling himself Philippe Egalité. But that is the whole point. Since Louis XVIII is doomed, it would suit the Powers much better to have him replaced by a King who has inherited Liberal principles, than to have the people rise in another revolution.’
Roger had heard nothing of this plot by the Orléanists to secure the throne for their leader, but he agreed that if the move succeeded it would put an end to the hopes of the Bonapartists. Napoleon then went on:
‘But I have a much larger following in Paris. As you know, my symbol is the violet. I am told that scores of men there regularly wear buttonholes of that flower, and violet is now the most fashionable colour for women’s dresses. They also wear rings of violet enamel with the words “Il reparaîtra au printemps” inscribed on them, showing that they expect me to return in the spring. There is a catch phrase, too, which refers to me. One says, “Do you believe in Christ?”, and the other replies, “Yes and in the Resurrection” But, having just come from France, you must know all this.’
As Roger had not been in Paris since his stay with Talleyrand before going on to Vienna, he did not; but it did not greatly surprise him in view of all he had heard during the past six months. The Legion of Honour had been degraded by being bestowed on hundreds of civil servants, and an Archbishop made Chancellor of the Order; the Duc de Berry had torn off an officer’s epaulettes and described the wars of the Empire as ‘twenty-five years of brigandage’; the Duc d’Angoulême had strutted about Paris wearing an English uniform; the pensions for invalided veterans had been reduced; the many thousands of prisoners of war returned from England, Russia, Austria and Germany had been left to starve; the free schools for the daughters of dead heroes abolished and the military college of St. Cyr suppressed. It could not be wondered at that vast numbers of people who had prospered under, or been cared for by Napoleon, were now longing for his return.
‘My problem,’ the Emperor continued, ‘was to reach France before Colonel Campbell, the British Commissioner here, could report that I had left Elba and have me intercepted. He is a pleasant man, most courteous and helpful, but he has an English brig, the Partridge, at his disposal, and I doubt if my Inconstant could have proved a match for her. But my star is again in the ascendant. Campbell has been suffering from increasing deafness, and the very day after I received Marat’s letter, my nice bulldog said he was sailing in the Partridge for Leghorn, to see an ear doctor, and would be away for ten days. The ship was hardly below the horizon before I gave orders for Inconstant to be careened, repainted like an English ship and provisioned for three months.’
‘Three months?’ Roger repeated in a puzzled voice.
Napoleon laughed. ‘One of my deception plans. It was to make those who were working on her think that I mean to go to America. By the 22nd she was ready for sea, and two small merchant ships I hired, the Etoile and the Saint Esprit, have been loaded with extra cases of cartridges, saddlery for my Poles and a few of my carriages. All this has been done out of sight of the town. To deceive the inhabitants, instead of having my Grenadiers drilled, I’ve employed them in remaking the gardens, and every day I have continued to issue a dozen or more orders about future projects; so, although a lot of people must have guessed that there is something in the wind, they cannot possibly suspect that I mean to depart almost immediately.’
After a moment he went on, ‘We had a nasty scare the night before you arrived, though. The Partridge unexpectedly appeared and put into harbour. I feared that Campbell had returned two days earlier than he had meant to. But it proved a false alarm. Captain Adye came ashore and we learned that he was only on a routine cruise. He will not be picking up Campbell from Leghorn until tomorrow.’
‘Your Majesty is once more a favourite of Fortune,’ Roger smiled. ‘How I should laugh if I could see the faces of the great men at the Congress when the news of your having landed in France reaches Vienna.’
‘Oh, the Congress.’ Napoleon shrugged. ‘Did you not know? It ended a week ago, with nothing settled, and the Czar setting off in a huff for Russia.’
This was news to Roger, and his heart sank. Had the Congress still been in session when it was learned that Napoleon had left Elba, the ex-Allies might have temporarily sunk their differences to combine and crush him; but if the Czar had already left Vienna, the chances of reviving the Alliance were slight.
‘We will go in now,’ said the Emperor, turning toward the house. ‘It is my custom to play cards most evenings for an hour or so, and we must adhere to routine, otherwise the servants may suspect that my departure is imminent. Yesterday I placed an embargo on all shipping leaving the island until further notice, but someone might slip away in a fishing smack, and every hour we can preserve our secret counts. You will speak of this to no-one, Breuc, not even Bertrand or Drouot. The former was glad when I told him of my intention, the latter urged me to change my mind. He is a good man, but a fool.’
Round the card table there were already assembled Madame Mère, Pauline, Drouot and Lieutenant Taillade, who commanded the Inconstant and had been asked to dine that evening. They were playing vingt-et-un, and Napoleon and Roger joined them. But after only half a dozen hands the clock struck nine, the Emperor rose from the table and played a few bars on the piano. Apparently it was his usual practice at that hour, and a signal for everyone to go to bed. Madame Mère was ceremoniously seen off in a sedan chair to the nearby Vantini house; then, when about to go upstairs, Pauline gave her hand to Roger to kiss, smiled at him and said:
‘Until tomorrow, Count. After Mass we will drive up in my little carriage drawn by a pair of ponies to San Martino.’
‘No, you will not,’ interjected Napoleon abruptly. ‘Breuc is again entering my service. I wish to introduce him to the officers of the Guard as my A.D.C.-in-Chief.’
Pauline made a little moue of annoyance and said to Roger, ‘We must make it another day then—Monday perhaps.’
He was relieved rather than disappointed, as in his depressed state he had felt no pleasurable anticipation about this chance to renew the amorous encounters with Pauline that had once filled him with delight. No sooner had he left the house than his mind turned to the momentous project of which Napoleon had told him an hour earlier.
Had he arrived in Elba only a week sooner, he felt certain that within a few days the many preparations going forward would have revealed the Emperor’s intentions to him. He could then have hired a fishing smack in which to slip away by night to the mainland, warn the British Consul at Leghorn what was afoot, and have warships in the vicinity alerted to intercept Napoleon’s small flotilla. But it was too late. And an embargo had now been placed on all ships leaving the island. As he walked down the steep street of steps, it crossed his mind that he might be able to bribe a fisherman to defy the order and take him off that night. But he at once dismissed it. The risk that the man might refuse the bribe and report the attempt to suborn him was too great. The Emperor would have him arrested and leave him behind, imprisoned there. His only course now was once more to play the part of a devoted A.D.C., and so be certain of retaining his freedom.
On his truckle bed in the dingy little bedroom at the Bertrands’ apartment he lay long awake, speculating on the outcome of the Emperor’s decision to attempt to regain his throne. Everything, he decided, would depend on the attitude of the Army. The rank-and-file would welcome Napoleon’s return, but the majority of the officers would not risk their commissions, and possibly being shot as traitors, for going over to him. Would the men dare defy their officers? And even a single division loyal to King Louis could overwhelm with ease the small force Napoleon would have at his disposal. To invade France with only one thousand men seemed the height of madness. But their leader was a man apart. With his imagination, tirelessness, swiftness of decision, courage, determination and personal magnetism, there was just a chance that he might achieve the seemingly impossible.
The following morning, Sunday, February 26th, Roger accompanied the Bertrands to nine o’clock Mass, at which Napoleon, his mother, sister and all the notables were present. Afterwards a procession of the Imperial carriages took the leading personalities, including Roger, up the hill to the Mulini and everyone else of any importance in Portoferraio followed on foot. The whole company was then received by the Emperor in the big room he had made on the first floor of the palace.
Three proclamations that had been printed during the night were read by Signor Traditi, the Mayor. They announced Napoleon’s immediate departure and promised that he would ever have the well-being of his loyal Elbans at heart. Very few of those present had been made privy to his intentions, so the announcement met with some cheers to encourage him and other cries of lamentation—largely hypocritical—that they were to be deprived of his presence.
Wine was taken round, healths were drunk, then the civilians departed, leaving the officers of the Guard and other formations. Roger was presented by Bertrand to General Cambronne, the Commandant of Portoferraio, Colonel Mallet, who commanded the Guards, Colonel Jersmanowski, who commanded the Polish Lancers, Captain Paoli, who commanded the Elban gendarmerie, and a number of other senior officers; then the Emperor gave his orders to each of them.
The troops had not yet been let into the secret. They were at that moment partaking of their main Sunday meal. Afterwards they were to be told to prepare for immediate embarkation. In the event, it proved that a number of them, suspecting nothing, had already gone off with Elban wenches to picnic in the countryside, so had to be left behind.
The invasion flotilla had, meanwhile, assembled in Portoferraio harbour. The guns of the Inconstant had been increased from eighteen to twenty-six, the Etoile and Saint Esprit each had six. In addition, there were four large feluccas. At five o’clock the embarkation began. There were six hundred of the Old Guard, one hundred Poles with saddles but no horses, three hundred and fifty Elban militia and gendarmes and about one hundred others of various categories—roughly one thousand one hundred and fifty in all.
At seven o’clock Napoleon said an emotional farewell to Madame Mère and Pauline who, with the affection she had always shown her brother, on learning what was about to happen had swept all her jewels into a black leather box, and now gave them to him.
He then drove down to the harbour in her little low-wheeled pony carriage, at walking pace. Bertrand, Drouot, Peyrusse, Pons, Roger and the rest of the household marched behind. On the quay a small crowd of townsfolk had gathered. There were faint cheers as they went aboard the felucca Caroline, which took them out to Inconstant. She and the other six ships of the flotilla were all flying the flag Napoleon had designed for himself soon after arriving in Elba. It was an adaptation of the ancient standard of the Medici, with a stripe down the middle, and the initial N in wreaths, eagles and bees on it. As dusk fell, the expedition put to sea.
The night was fine, with bright moonlight, but windless; so the Emperor ordered the sweeps to be got out, and these were used until the ships were clear of the bay. Then, at about midnight a slight breeze sprang up, coming from the south, which enabled them to make better headway.
By eight o’clock the next morning they were southeast of the island of Capraia. H.M.S. Partridge, with Captain Campbell on board, was, they learned later, at that time lying becalmed off Leghorn, so they were in no danger from her. But the day was one of constant anxiety. Two French frigates, Fleur-de-Lys and Matpomène, were cruising off Capraia. They sighted both, and the frigates must have sighted them, but neither turned in their direction and challenged them.
Then, at four o’clock in the afternoon, they sighted a French brig sailing in a direction that would bring her right across Inconstant’s bows. Taillade recognised her as the Zephyr, and knew her to be commanded by a friend of his, Captain Andrieux. Hurriedly Napoleon ordered all his officers and the Guard to go below, then took cover himself beneath the poop, so that he could still tell Taillade what he wished done.
As the ships closed, they hailed each other. Andrieux said he was bound for Leghorn. At Napoleon’s prompting, Taillade replied that he was making for Genoa. Had Andrieux seen the troops aboard, he would at once have jumped to the conclusion that Napoleon was escaping from Elba and would have gone into action. As it was, he assumed that Inconstant was on one of her frequent short voyages to the mainland, to pick up stores, so he only shouted through his loud-hailer, ‘How is your great man?’ To which Napoleon told Taillade to shout back, ‘He is wonderfully well.’
Roger had been with the Emperor when, many years before, as General Bonaparte, he had abandoned his army in Egypt and run the gauntlet of the British fleet in order to get back to France. In these very waters they had sighted a British squadron, but it had failed to take notice of them. Now he had again been extremely lucky, as Captain Andrieux’s suspicions had obviously not been aroused by the fact that Inconstant had been repainted to resemble a ship of the Royal Navy and, owing to her greater speed, she had left the six smaller ships of the flotilla far behind below the horizon; for, had they been with her, Andrieux could not have failed to realise that Inconstant was not making one of her normal, innocent trips.
In order to give the smaller ships time to reach the rendezvous on the French coast within a few hours of Inconstant, the Emperor ordered a detour to be made in the direction of Genoa. While on that course they again suffered acute anxiety on sighting a French 74 ship-of-the-line, but once more fortune favoured Napoleon. Presumably, taking Inconstant for a British ship, the 74 ignored her.
On the morning of the 28th they sighted the Alps inland from Savona; whereupon the Emperor conferred the Legion of Honour on Taillade and on every man of the Guard who had seen four years’ service, and accompanied him to Elba. Poor Peyrusse had been very seasick during the voyage and, in a high good humour, Napoleon said to him, ‘A glass of Seine water will put you right, Monsieur le Trésorier,’ and added with superb confidence, ‘We shall be in Paris on March 20th, the King of Rome’s birthday.’
That evening Inconstant was rejoined by the other ships of the flotilla. Early next day they were off Antibes. Instead of the Elban flag, the Emperor ordered the tricolour to be hoisted, and came on deck with a tricolour cockade in his hat. Another proclamation which had been secretly printed in Elba was then read to the troops. There were cheers and shouts of ’Vive l’Empereu’, but afterwards some of the officers expressed doubts about the possibility of conquering France with only one thousand men.
Napoleon replied to them, ‘I can count on the whole Army. I have received addresses of welcome from many regiments. A revolution has already broken out in Paris, and a provisional government has been established.’ All of which, Roger felt sure, was a tissue of lies. But it stilled the murmurings of the doubters. At one o’clock on March 1st, the vessels were all at anchor in Gulf Juan, and the debarkation began.
The Emperor’s first act was to despatch Captain Lamouret with twenty-five Grenadiers to take over Antibes. They entered the town, but the Colonel commanding the garrison there proved loyal to King Louis. He promptly ordered the gates to be locked, so that the detachment could not escape from the town, confronted it with superior force and compelled Lamouret and his men to surrender.
When news of this initial setback reached Napoleon’s staff there was general consternation. The Generals took it for granted that the Emperor would at once order a much larger force to attack Antibes and rescue Lamouret’s contingent. But the town was walled, so considerable time and effort would have been required to force an entrance. In consequence, the Emperor overrode all protests, declaring that time meant everything. To achieve success not a moment must be lost in advancing on Paris, so Lamouret and his men were left to their fate.
Their abandonment gave Roger furiously to think. Up to six months ago he had, for the greater part of many years, led a dangerous but mainly enjoyable life. He was still leading a dangerous life, but the future, as a middle-aged man with little money and dependant for most of that on someone else’s goodwill, held little prospect of enjoyment. In his worst periods of depression he had felt that, rather than face such a dreary existence, he would be better dead. Pain he had always dreaded, but never death, because he and Georgina had often discussed the subject of survival, and both were convinced believers in reincarnation. Therefore, for him, to die meant starting a new life in due course, in a different body but with the same personality, so might well be preferable to living on, perhaps for many years, a prey to semi-poverty and frustration.
Nevertheless, he had the normal man’s instinct to preserve his life. There was also always the chance that some turn of fortune might better his situation and provide him with a sufficient income to enjoy his recently acquired earldom. In any case, he had no intention of throwing away his life uselessly. Yet now, it was borne in upon him that such a fate might well overtake him.
Willy-nilly he had become involved in what, regarded logically, was a forlorn hope. If other commanders reacted to Napoleon’s reappearance in France in the same way as the Commandant of the Antibes garrison had done, he would be killed or captured within a matter of days, and there would not be an earthly hope of his remounting the throne in Paris. One thing seemed certain. The Marshals who had been confirmed in their rank, honours and estates by King Louis would side with him; for, if they did not and the Emperor triumphed, he would have them court-martialled and shot as traitors.
That applied equally to Napoleon’s adherents. If he was defeated, they could expect no mercy from the Bourbons. There was also the possibility that he might send Roger off on some mission and, if he was captured, abandon him as he had Lamouret. In such a case it would be useless for Roger to protest that it was only through force of circumstances that he had joined Napoleon, that he was in fact an Englishman and in the service of the Duke of Wellington. In France he had for so long been known as le brave Breuc that no-one would believe him. Weeks before the Duke in distant Vienna could confirm his story and secure his release he would have been put up against a brick wall and shot by a firing squad.
So when, at five o’clock that afternoon, Roger accompanied the Emperor ashore, it was with most gloomy forebodings.