The Sultan's Daughter (14 page)

There, at Montebello, during the peace parleys with Austria, he had in a few months transformed his position from that of a fighting soldier, who shared all hardships with his strongly Republican officers and men, to that of an almost royal personage. He had formed a Court at which his wife, mother and sisters set the tone for the many other ladies who had been invited from France to join his senior officers. Even his oldest friends no longer dared to ‘thee and thou' him. Like royalty, he dined every night in state, with his family and only a few others whom, from time to time, he chose to honour. The drawing rooms and ante-chambers of the Palace were always crowded, not only with his Generals but with a score of German and Italian nobles sent by their Princes to fawn upon him and win his goodwill.

He talked almost incessantly and now, as then, everyone
hung upon his words while his agile mind flashed from subject to subject, hardly waiting for answers to the questions he shot at those nearest him. Réveillon had taken the place on his right and Bourrienne was on his other side. Lannes and Roger were on the opposite side of the table, a few places down. The meal was nearly over when, during a brief pause in the conversation, Lannes said to his master:

‘But for my arrival on the scene this afternoon you would have been short of an aide-de-camp. At four o'clock Breuc was on the point of being shot as a spy.'

Bonaparte gave Roger an amused glance. ‘That would have been carrying your pretence of being an Englishman a little too far. Tell us how you got yourself into such a predicament.'

One of Roger's most valuable gifts was his ability as a
raconteur
. He plunged into his story with gusto, deliberately raised several laughs against himself, gave a graphic description of the terror he had felt and belittled his achievement of having got away from seven armed men.

He could afford to adopt such an attitude because Bonaparte believed him to be fearless. At the siege of Toulon, soon after they first met, Roger had got himself into a position where he had had no alternative but to lead an assault on an enemy battery over open ground in full daylight, and the out-at-elbows little Commander of the Artillery was under the impression that he had deliberately volunteered to undertake this suicidal act. More recently, too, on an island near Mestre, he had defended himself against a dozen Venetians under the eyes of the General-in-Chief, and in so doing had saved him from their most unwelcome attentions. He had received a sword of honour as a reward and a mention in Army Orders that had established his reputation for valour.

As Bonaparte loved stories he listened attentively, interrupting only to tell Roger what he ought to have done on several occasions when he might have taken some different line in his defence. By the time the tale was completed everyone had finished eating, the wine was circulating freely and several officers had lit cheroots. Bonaparte's comment on Roger's account of himself was:

‘Like myself, Breuc, you were born under a lucky star. Desmarets I know only by name. He is one of those Old Guard Generals who owes his rise to the Revolution. Most of them should never have been promoted above Sergeant-Major. His attitude shows laziness as well as irresponsibility. On that account I shall take steps to have him removed from his Command. Now tell me the impression you formed of the defences of England.'

In replying, Roger had to be extremely careful. It was in the interests of his country to report that the south coast now bristled with formidable obstacles designed to prevent an enemy landing. However, he knew that the French must have numerous spies in England who would be sending back more or less accurate assessments; so he dared not depart very far from the truth. With a thoughtful look, he said:

‘The English have certainly not made the best of the time they have been given since you last contemplated a descent on their shores, but they are now definitely in a position to give us a hotter reception. In '96, apart from such great castles as Dover, Walmer and so on they had virtually no fixed coast defences, whereas they have since built a chain of forts along the Kent and Sussex beaches. There is one every few miles and they call them Martello Towers.'

‘That I had heard. What are they like? Are they armed with cannon? Do you consider them formidable?'

‘They are round, with inward-sloping walls and thirty or forty feet in height. Some have cannon on their roofs, the others are expected to receive their armament shortly.' In the latter statement Roger lied, as he knew the deliveries from the arsenal to be hopelessly behindhand. He continued, ‘To storm them will not be easy, as they will be defended by resolute men.'

Bonaparte smiled. ‘To have built them with inward-sloping walls was folly. That makes it less easy for a garrison to thrust the top of a scaling ladder back and cast it down with the men upon it.' Looking across at Bourrienne, he added, ‘But we shall need many scaling ladders. Make a note to treble the quantity normally allotted to each Division.' To Roger he said:

‘You consider the morale of the British to be good?'

‘About that I have no doubts. In every past campaign they have displayed their doggedness in defence. And you may be certain that in defending their own soil they will fight like tigers. You may recall,
mon Général
, that when you asked my view on this two years ago I told you that not only will the troops show great bravery but people of all ages for miles round will come to their aid with shotguns and pitchforks, and I have seen no reason to change my opinion.'

‘Unorthodox resistance of that kind will be only temporary,' Bonaparte shrugged. ‘After I have had a few hundred of them shot as
francs tireurs
the others will be glad enough to run back and tend their pigs. But what of Regular forces? Have these been materially increased?'

‘Not greatly,' Roger admitted, ‘but to some extent. However, they will now have the support of a considerable Militia. Virtually every able-bodied gentleman and yeoman within twenty miles of the coast has been embodied in these volunteer units, given a uniform and equipped with weapons.'

‘Pah!' exclaimed the General. ‘My veterans will make mincemeat of such amateurs. And you say that the Regular forces have not been much increased? Well, God is always on the side of the big battalions. Once ashore we shall drive all before us.'

Lannes suddenly put in, ‘But we have first to get ashore. And in its present state our Navy is no match for that of the English.'

‘What of that?' Bonaparte replied promptly. ‘Looked at on a map, the Channel appears to be no more than a gulf between the two countries; but in fact it consists of hundreds of square miles of water. The English Fleet cannot be everywhere at once and it should take us only about seven or eight hours to get across. If we make our crossing on a foggy night the chances of running into their Fleet will be negligible.'

‘We might run into one of its frigates,' argued Lannes. ‘If so, the frigate would bring the Fleet speedily down on us, to our destruction.'

Bonaparte gave him an impatient glance. ‘Should that
happen our own escorting ships-of-war would swiftly overwhelm the frigate. Even did she escape, the odds are that it would be many hours before, in fog, she could locate the Fleet and bring it down upon us. By then we should be safely ashore and with our artillery landed.'

‘Would not fog prove as great a handicap to us as to the enemy?' Roger asked. ‘Surely our flotillas would be liable to become dispersed. Many units would then find themselves lost and fail to reach their objectives.'

‘I should take precautions against that. Each ship or barge would carry a fog-horn and keep in touch with her companions by sounding recognition signals at short intervals.'

Bonaparte's only experiences of sea travel were his brief crossings between Corsica and France, whereas Roger had voyaged many thousand miles. Moreover, he had learned much during his boyhood of the storms and currents of the Channel, so he did not think it at all likely that this idea could be made to work in practice. But he refrained from voicing his opinion.

After a moment Bonaparte asked, ‘Do you know who has been nominated to oppose me when I land in England with an Army?'

Roger smiled. ‘Alas, no! I was neither in the confidence of Downing Street nor the Horse Guards. I think it almost certain, though, that the Duke of York would assume command in person.'

‘What! That barber's block whom Pichegru chased out of Holland in '95?'

‘Since he is the King's son and Commander-in-Chief of the Army, it is hardly likely that he would allow himself to be passed over.'

‘Then I will eat him for breakfast.'

After the laughter had died down Roger remarked, ‘He could, of course, have a Second-in-Command well qualified to advise him. Faced with such a desperate situation, they would probably recall Sir Ralph Abercrombie from Ireland.'

‘He did well in the West Indies,' Bonaparte admitted. ‘But he is an old man now. He must be well over sixty and, I am told, near blind; so he will give me little trouble.'

The conqueror of Italy would have spoken less disparagingly
of Sir Ralph could he have foreseen that three years later the Army he had left to garrison Egypt was to be totally destroyed by this veteran.

‘It is possible,' Roger suggested, ‘that Lord Cornwallis might be given the post, or even the Command. He has a great reputation———'

‘Reputation!' Bonaparte snorted. ‘That fellow! Why, he lost the war in America for the British! He allowed himself to be boxed up in York Town by a mob of colonial farmers and was compelled to surrender. He is, too, nearly as old as Sir Abercrombie.'

‘I think you underrate him. In America it was not his strategy that was at fault but the Navy's failure to break the blockade and bring him reinforcements and supplies. Later, in India, he did extremely well in the wars against the native Princes.'

‘Oh, India! What chance could any horde of natives, armed with spears and javelins, stand against well-trained European troops equipped with modern artillery?' Bonaparte's eyes suddenly lit up. ‘One day I will go to India and throw the English out. That done, within half a year I could make myself master of the whole sub-continent, from the Himalayas to Ceylon.'

Roger smiled. ‘I have no doubt of that,
mon Général
. I agree too that, as was proved in Italy, Commanders of over sixty could have little hope when confronted with your new, swift and audacious methods of waging war. But, from what I have heard, the English now have a number of younger officers who show considerable promise. I became quite intimate with one such when I was in India. His name was Arthur Wellesley. Although only a Colonel, they thought so highly of him that he was given the Command last spring of an expedition to Manila and charged with ousting the Dutch from their East Indian possessions.'

‘I had intelligence of that. But you raise a matter that will prove of immense advantage to us in our invasion. The commitments of the British in India and the West Indies compel them to keep all their best regiments and officers abroad, and in the latter theatre thousands of them are carried off each year by yellow fever. That leaves the island but poorly defended
and by an Army of the old type similar to that of France before the Revolution. Young men of noble families buy their commissions in it, but are soldiers only in so far as the fine uniforms they wear. Often, for years at a stretch, I am told, they are allowed to be absent from their regiments; so they know nothing of the art of war.'

‘Besides,' put in Bourrienne, ‘this officer of whom Breuc speaks is only a Colonel; so even if recalled he could not hope for the Command of more than a Brigade.'

‘True, true. But Breuc is right in his contention that they have certain officers on the way up who show promise. There was one who greatly distinguished himself at the taking of Calvi, when the English invaded Corsica. He was a Colonel John Moore, and he showed not only great dash and courage but also intelligence. Later, when the island was subdued, he was made Adjutant-General to the forces there. He then took considerable pains to become acquainted with the leading Corsican families and showed them much kindness, thereby lessening the hostility to the English garrison stationed in the island.'

Roger nodded. ‘I recall hearing of that, because on learning that Colonel Moore had been fraternising with the patriots the Viceroy, Sir Gilbert Elliot, became furious, and ordered him to leave the island within forty-eight hours. The Viceroy's action was much criticised; so it had no harmful effect on Moore's career. Shortly afterwards he was promoted to Brigadier and sent out to the West Indies, where he became Sir Ralph Abercrombie's right-hand man and again distinguished himself in numerous hot actions.'

‘Where is he now?' asked Bonaparte.

‘I have no idea. I heard no mention of him during my recent stay in England.'

‘No matter.' The General-in-Chief abruptly stood up. ‘Write a full report of all you saw and heard while there and give it to Bourrienne. You will, of course, accompany me when I leave in the morning.' Turning to Réveillon, he added, ‘I shall now get some sleep.' Then, without excusing himself further, he nodded absently in reply to a chorus of ‘Good nights' and walked quickly from the room.

Réveillon led the others back into the salon and a number
of them crowded round Roger, pressing him for further particulars of the desperate time he had been through. But it was now getting on for seventeen hours since Tardieu had roused him to face one of the most gruelling days he had ever spent. Reaction had set in and only Bonaparte's electric presence at the supper had enabled Roger to keep going through the meal; so he begged to be released and went up to bed.

Next morning he was roused at four o'clock and by five they were on their way. It was typical of Bonaparte's furious urge to get anything he undertook completed swiftly that he would not allow his progress to be slowed down by the bad state of the roads. He travelled in a big carriage that had reinforced springs and was drawn by six strong horses. Two pairs of extra horses accompanied it, so that the team could be increased to ten when going up steep hills, and it was escorted by a Squadron of Hussars who were always on hand to hoist it out of ruts should it get stuck. As the weather continued fine, their progress was not impeded by deep mud or landslides.