Evil in a Mask (66 page)

During the battle of Aspern-Essling, while carrying a message from the Emperor to Masséna, a bullet had knocked Roger's hat from his head and ploughed through his scalp. It was not a serious wound, but resulted in his being sent, after a few days on Lobau, with one of the batches of casualties, into Vienna for treatment by a civilian doctor.

There, he found that Duroc was already allocating accommodation in the Schönbrunn Palace, in anticipation of the arrival of the Court. Since the Palace would also be used as
Great Headquarters, it was certain that it would be crowded and very noisy. As additional accommodation, Duroc had commandeered a number of small private houses just outside the Park. Roger suffered from severe headaches as a result of his wound, so he was anxious to secure quarters where he would be as quiet as possible, and he asked Duroc if he might occupy one of the houses. His old friend readily granted his request.

It was a pleasant little, double-fronted villa, with a wing consisting of stables and coach house at ground level and servants' quarters above. To the right of the front door, a drawing room ran the whole depth of the house, with a similar room as best bedroom on the first floor. To the left, there was a small dining room and kitchen, with two more bedrooms over. Opposite the top of the stairs, between the big bedroom and the other, smaller room at the back, was a slip room which could be entered from either. It could have been used as a dressing room, but Roger saw that it had been fitted up as a clothes closet.

At the back of the house there was a verandah, and along the first floor a broad, covered balcony looking out on a half an acre of pleasant garden. Roger decided that he would leave the big bedroom to Lisala, and himself occupy the smaller one further along the balcony. There, with his soldier servant and groom to serve him, he rested for some days, getting up only for meals and strolls round the garden, until his scalp had healed and his headaches ceased.

By that time, Napoleon was living in the Palace and Roger reported back for duty. A week later the Court arrived and, as one of the Empress' ladies, Lisala. She was, Roger had to admit to himself, as beautiful as ever; but she stirred no trace of desire in him. Treating her with the same politeness he had shown her in Paris, he took her to the little house. She was enchanted with it, and declared that she wished she could laze away the summer days in the garden instead of having to attend on Josephine. However, hardly had she settled in than, to his intense annoyance, she produced another sheaf of bills
that considerably exceeded the one thousand francs a month he had agreed to allow her.

There followed a violent quarrel. She maintained that, in her position, it was essential always to appear in the latest mode. He argued that other ladies-in-waiting did not always do so and were far less extravagant. She had found out from someone what his pay and allowances amounted to, and declared that he could well afford to indulge her tastes. He admitted that he could, but only within reason, and he would soon be beggared if she continued to run up bills at this pace. She remarked with a smile that spies who had given themselves away should not grumble at having to pay for their continued immunity. Seething with anger, he agreed to settle her bills, then stamped out of the house.

For the hundredth time he contemplated the terrible fix into which he had got himself, and felt that to go on like this indefinitely was impossible. Yet only two alternatives offered themselves. One was to kill her, the other was to throw in his hand, quietly slip away from Vienna, then make his way to England.

During his time, Roger had caused many men to die violent deaths, but to murder a woman in cold blood was a very different matter and, although he had come to hate Lisala, he knew he could not kill her. He was almost equally reluctant to free himself from her by absconding, because he felt that Europe was now hovering on the brink of the greatest crisis that had arisen for many years. It needed only one major defeat of Napoleon by the Archduke Charles to bring about the Emperor's fall. In adversity, every hand would be against him. In Paris, Talleyrand and Fouché, backed by many of the Marshals, would seize power. Both of them knew the truth about Roger, so he would then have nothing to fear. He could divorce Lisala and send her packing.

While continuing with her, he had only one consolation. So far no rumour had reached him that she had taken a lover. Her nature being as it was, he had little doubt that, after he left Paris, she had had one or more, and that she would shortly select one here in Vienna. But at least she was exercising discretion
in her amours. Perhaps because she had taken seriously his threat that, should she fail to do so, he would kill her. In any case, she had not as yet brought public ridicule upon him.

During the last half of June Schönbrunn became nightly the scene of balls, operas, plays and brilliant receptions. The Emperor appeared at them all, attended by his subject Kings and Princes, and giving the impression that he considered the war with Austria as good as over. But, during the days and far into the nights, he was in his Cabinet, working with frantic energy to build up the army that still occupied the island of Lobau.

By early July, Napoleon had succeeded in massing over one hundred and seventy thousand troops on the island, and now had a superiority in numbers; for the Archuke had not been so able or so fortunate in bringing up reserves.

After the Archduke Ferdinand's first success in taking Warsaw, the tide had turned against him. Early in May, Prince Poniatowski took the offensive and prevented him from crossing the Vistula. Meanwhile, the Czar, feeling that he must at least make a show of honouring his promise to Napoleon should Austria attack France, despatched a corps towards Lemberg. Now threatened from both sides, Ferdinand had to evacuate Warsaw and, by mid-June, had withdrawn to Opatoff. There followed a number of minor engagements, in which the fortunes of both sides varied; but the Austrian army of thirty thousand continued to be tied up in distant Poland, so could not be brought to the assistance of the Archduke Charles.

Fortune had also deserted the Archduke John. After defeating de Beauharnais and freeing the Tyrol, a large detachment he had sent into Dalmatia had been thoroughly defeated by the able Marshal Marmont. By then, de Beauharnais had called up considerable reinforcements and, after a series of conflicts, driven John out of Carinthia; from where he withdrew into Hungary. De Beauharnais had followed him up and, on June 14th, forced him, after a pitched battle outside the fortress of Rueb, to retire again. While retreating in the direction of Pressburg, the Archduke received an urgent summons from his brother Charles, to join him outside Vienna
before the sevén-week armistice with the French expired. John's original force of fifty-three thousand men had by then been reduced to twenty thousand effectives, and he was a considerable distance from the capital; but he altered his line of march, hoping to arrive in time to participate in the great battle that was about to take place in the neighbourhood of Lobau.

In consequence, the Archduke Charles could dispose of only one hundred and thirty-five thousand men, as opposed to Napoleon's one hundred and seventy thousand. On the other hand, the French had to cross the arm of the Danube separating the island from the mainland, then advance through Aspern-Essling and four miles of open country before they could attack the Austrians' major concentration, which occupied a ridge of hills where there stood the village of Wagram.

For some time past, with great labour, the Austrians had been throwing up very strong defences opposite the north shore of Lobau, as it was there, the river being at its narrowest, the French were expected to make their attempt to cross. But Napoleon had prepared a most effective deception plan.

On the night of July 4th, the French opened a terrific cannonade directed at the Austrian trenches north of Lobau. Meanwhile, sufficient boats to form six bridges that had been kept under camouflage, were swiftly hooked together and swung into position from the east end of the island, across the much broader channel to the mainland.

When the battle opened, a violent storm was raging. Forked lightning streaked down, and the crashes of thunder could not be” distinguished from the roar of the bombardment. In torrents of rain the divisions of Oudinot and Masséna streamed over the bridges. The Austrian earthworks were outflanked and rapidly evacuated, their defenders swiftly retiring to the ridge of hills. Dawn saw the whole French army deployed for battle on the mainland.

At midday, the French marched steadily forward and, in the afternoon, launched an attack in close columns on the heights held by the Austrians. But, by seven o'clock, they had been beaten back from Wagram with heavy losses. The battle was then broken off, to be renewed on the morning of the 6th.

The Archduke took the offensive, launching his right with such force that he drove Masséna back on to Aspern. The Austrian centre then advanced, and several hours of most bloody conflict ensued, as the White-Coats gradually gained ground from the French. Realising the danger in which his army now stood of being driven into the river, the Emperor massed one hundred cannon, afterwards known as the ‘Grand Battery', and, under its devastating fire, the Austrians' advance was checked. He then launched a solid column consisting of thirty thousand infantry and six thousand horse, under General Macdonald, against the enemy's centre. It gave, but did not break, and the Archduke might yet have emerged victorious, because his left wing was almost intact.

It was the brilliant Davoust who really saved the day. His corps had been allotted the task of preventing the Archduke John's army from arriving on the scene. On learning that battle had been joined, Davoust left only a light screen of troops to mislead the Archduke into believing that his way to Vienna was still barred, then hastened with the bulk of his corps to Napoleon's assistance. He arrived late in the afternoon, but in time to drive the Austrians from the village of Neusiedel, and so threw their left into confusion. At length the whole of the Archduke Charles' army was forced back from the heights of Wagram, although it retired in good order, and covered by a murderous artillery fire.

The Emperor naturally claimed Wagram as a great victory, but it was far from that. The Austrians had fought with splendid heroism against much superior odds and, although they had lost twenty-four thousand men, they had accounted for eighteen thousand French. Moreover, they had fallen back as a still orderly and unbroken army. For two days, the French followed them up, but only feebly. Napoleon's army, now largely composed of teen-aged recruits, had sadly deteriorated. They had neither the stamina nor the
élan
of the hard-bitten troops who had fought at Marengo and Austerlitz. The Austrians had proved better soldiers and had covered themselves with glory. At Zneym, on the 12th, another armistice was agreed.

Roger had been lucky in the battle as, after the first great clash had occurred on the 5th and the French had been driven back, Napoleon had sent him post-haste to Vienna, to raise every small detachment he could from the scant garrison left there and bring them to the battlefield. He had worked all through the night, despatching cooks, clerks and storekeepers, who were of little value, out to Lobau, and himself had not returned until the terrible carnage on the 6th was nearly over.

To give greater credence to his proclamation of victory, Napoleon distributed a number of honours and awards. For the part Macdonald had played in leading the decisive charge, the Emperor gave him on the field his baton as a Marshal. A few days later, when the list was published, Roger learned that, for special services, he had been elevated to the Napoleonic peerage, and was now
Colonel Baron de Breuc
.

That evening, as he did now and again for appearances' sake, he dined at his little house with Lisala. They had reached a state where they now hardly bothered to talk to each other. But he told her that he had been made a Baron.

Looking up from her plate, she fixed her huge eyes on his and asked, ‘Will that mean an increase in your income?'

‘Yes,' he told her. ‘The Emperor always grants a life pension to those he ennobles, in order that they may support the dignity to his credit.' With a cynical smile, he added, ‘However, it will not amount to a fortune, so you need not suppose that you will be able to increase greatly the blackmail you are already levying upon me.'

She shrugged. ‘About such paltry sums I have now become indifferent. As well as clothes I desire jewels which I know that you are in no position to pay for. But I have recently been offered a means by which I can make a mint of money. I intend to run a brothel.'

Roger dropped his fork. ‘Lisala! You cannot mean that!'

‘Indeed I do. 'Tis, I am told, a most profitable occupation.'

‘But … but … all else apart, you are one of the Empress' ladies.'

Lisala made a derisive gesture. ‘Oh, Josephine! I am much wearied of dancing attendance on her. And, in any case, she is finished.'

‘What mean you?'

‘Surely you must have heard that the Emperor intends to put her from him?'

Roger had heard. Everyone had known for a long time past that Napoleon's dearest wish was to found a dynasty. Although Josephine had had two children by her earlier marriage, she had failed to give him one. He had, therefore, come to believe himself to be incapable of becoming a father. This belief had been invalidated when one of his many temporary mistresses, Elénora Denuelle, had borne him a son, about the identity of whose father there could be no possible shadow of doubt. It was this that, dearly as he had come to love Josephine, had first put into his mind the idea of divorcing her.

But if he was to take a new wife, nothing less could now satisfy him as a consort than a lady having the royal blood of one of the great hereditary ruling families. It was, therefore, not until the conference at Erfurt that he had disclosed his secret intention to anyone. There, as Roger and a few of Talleyrand's other intimates knew, Napoleon had contemplated asking the Czar for the hand of his sister. Talleyrand, being strenuously opposed to a Russian alliance, had warned the Czar that the proposal was likely to be put forward; so, when Napoleon had broached the matter, Alexander had been ready to evade
committing himself, by replying that the selection of a husband for his sister was entirely in the hands of her mother.