The Fields of Death r-4, page 61
part #4 of Revolution Series
True to his military training, Arthur ensured that his officers were aware of the need to be ready to march at short notice. He also spent several days riding across the countryside, noting its potential uses for his army. On the last day before leaving Belgium to ride to Paris, Arthur and Somerset trotted out along the road from Brussels that passed through the forest of Soignes before heading towards the border. They reined in on a low ridge overlooking the ground to the south. Behind them the woods opened out a short distance beyond the bottom of the reverse slope.
‘See there, Somerset.’ Arthur indicated the ground behind them. ‘Enough cover for a large army.’
Somerset glanced round and nodded.
‘And there, on the forward slope: a number of walled farmhouses that could easily be fortified to break up any attacks made on the ridge.’ Arthur scrutinised the landscape for a moment longer and clicked his fingers. ‘Mark this ground.’
‘Yes, your grace.’ Somerset fumbled with his saddlebag and pulled out his map case. Unfastening it, he took out the map and found the location, then folded the map and rested it on the leather case. He picked up a pencil and held it poised. ‘There it is. Mont-St-Jean, your grace.’
‘Mont-St-Jean,’ Arthur repeated quietly.‘And that village a mile or so back, what was it called?’
‘Waterloo, your grace.’
‘Very well, make a note. Good ground to fight on,’ he said approvingly. ‘Damned good ground. Should the need ever arise.’
He urged his horse forward, and Somerset hurriedly packed his materials away before spurring his horse after his commander as he clopped down the road. On either side fields of wheat grew chest high, and a light breeze caused the heads of the crops to sway in a gently shimmering ripple. For a moment Arthur felt his spirits lift as he put his concerns aside and gazed out across the peaceful countryside.
Chapter 53
Paris, November 1814
A fine drizzle filled the air as the men of the King’s bodyguard paraded in the great courtyard of the Tuileries. Arthur was standing beside the Duke of Angoulкme reviewing the soldiers as they marched past the platform. Many of them sported the whiskers that had been the fashion of the former Imperial Guard, and there was something in their eyes that chilled Arthur even more than the cold weather of late autumn.
‘How many of these men are veterans of the Old Guard?’ he asked quietly.
The French aristocrat smiled. ‘We inducted more than half of them.’
‘You compelled them?’
‘It was not necessary. They were pleased enough to have the chance to continue wearing a uniform. It was that, or return to the streets and go hungry.’
‘And you trust them?’
‘Why not? They would be nothing without the new regime. Their Emperor is gone, the war is over. They have had to adjust, along with the rest of the people.’
Arthur watched the next company march past before he replied. ‘I hope you are right.’
‘Of course I am. The Corsican Tyrant is no longer a danger to Europe. I understand that he is busying himself on Elba with improving the lot of his new subjects. But then I am sure you are better informed of his activities than I am.’
‘Our resident sends regular reports of Bonaparte’s activities,’ Arthur admitted. As part of the treaty which had provided for the French Emperor’s exile the British government had appointed a resident on Elba, Colonel Campbell, to keep a close watch on Bonaparte and keep track of those who visited him on the island, mostly former admirers and those curious to see the great man in his gilded cage. As a matter of course his former commanders were barred from speaking to him, but there was no preventing third parties from carrying messages.
‘What does your resident say in his reports?’
‘That Bonaparte reads the newspapers avidly, and is engrossed in writing his memoirs, and that he abides by the terms of the treaty. He presents no threat to the peace of Europe, as you say.’
‘Perhaps,’ the French aristocrat mused. ‘All the same, it was a shame that he was not put to death. Then we might have finally quashed Bonapartist sentiment in France.’
‘If he had been put to death, I fear the streets of Paris would have run with blood as his supporters and yours tore each other’s throats out.’
The Duke of Angoulкme glanced coldly at Arthur.‘Sometimes blood is the price of peace and security.’
‘And sometimes it does not have to be,’ Arthur replied firmly. ‘More than enough blood has already been shed.’
The Frenchman turned back to watch the soldiers with a dismissive grunt. After a moment Arthur reached up and adjusted his stock to keep as much of the drizzle from his neck as possible.
While the review continued his mind turned to the wider situation in Paris. He had taken up his position as ambassador nearly three months earlier, and at first he had been gratified by his reception into Paris society. The British government had purchased the mansion of Pauline Bonaparte to serve as an embassy and the accommodation was as comfortable as anything Arthur could have wished for; it had pleased Kitty too when she joined him in October. Since his arrival Arthur had been welcomed into the Parisian salons, and Madame de Staлl had proved a useful ally in assisting him to promote his government’s case for the abolition of the French slave trade. He had even met many of the marshals and generals who had once served Bonaparte and was pleased by the cordial, and often friendly, mood which had accompanied their discussions of their experiences during the recently ended war.
But as the weeks passed and Arthur came to better know the general mood of the French capital, he began to grow concerned. The Bourbons might well be back in power, but the public enthusiasm for the return of peace and the restoration of the monarchy had swiftly given way to discontent. On several occasions Arthur had witnessed small gatherings of men in cafйs toasting their former Emperor. Then, only the day before the review of the royal bodyguard, stones had been thrown through the windows of the embassy.
Nor was the news from Vienna any more encouraging. Castlereagh’s coded despatches revealed that a formal alliance between Russia, Prussia and Austria was still a very real danger. Both he and Talleyrand were striving to draw Austria away from the others in order to maintain an equilibrium in Europe. Otherwise, a new war might be unavoidable.
The Duke of Angoulкme leaned towards him. ‘Time for the finale, my dear Wellington. Look there.’
He pointed across the courtyard to where the bodyguard was forming a line, two deep, facing the review stand. The Frenchman glanced at Arthur and smiled.‘Now for a small piece of theatre. Shall we see how the audience reacts?’ He gestured subtly to the officers and artistocrats and their wives watching the review on the platform behind. Across the parade ground the colonel in charge had drawn his sword and now bellowed the order to make ready to fire. Up came the muskets.
There was an anxious murmur from behind Arthur and he glanced round and saw that the Duke of Angoulкme’s party were stirring uneasily, forgetting the discomfort caused by standing in the cold and damp. The Duke laughed lightly as he spoke softly to Arthur. ‘Nothing to worry about. They’re firing blank rounds. I thought it would be entertaining to give our guests some idea what it might be like to be on the receiving end of a volley.’
‘Really?’ Arthur replied flatly. ‘I can assure you that there is a world of difference between mere smoke and noise, and the actuality.’
The Duke shrugged, and fixed his attention on the line of soldiers as they aimed their muskets across the parade ground towards the reviewing platform. The colonel barked an order and an instant later fire and smoke burst out, obscuring the line of soldiers, an instant before the deafening crash echoed off the walls of the palace. Arthur sensed rather than heard the faint whip through the air, almost lost in the din of the volley. A sharp crack came from behind and he turned quickly. Two panes of glass in the windows of the palace had shattered, just above the heads of the audience, and in line with Arthur and the Duke. Some of the guests turned to look and gasped in alarm, instinctively edging towards the steps at either side of the platform. Others gazed up, aghast, and then turned anxiously back towards the soldiers. The colonel was continuing to give orders, oblivious of those on the platform, and the bodyguards shouldered their muskets and began to march away, through an arch, as they returned to barracks.
Arthur turned back to the Duke of Angoulкme who stood rigidly, hands clenched into fists at his sides. ‘Treason,’ he muttered.‘Treason. I’ll have the culprits found and shot with their own weapons.’
His jaw was trembling as he finished speaking, whether from fear or rage Arthur could not tell. Arthur shook his head. ‘I don’t think there’s much hope of finding the men responsible. Even if anyone knew which men took the shots, the chances are that they will close ranks and keep their mouths shut.’
‘Then they’re all in on it,’ the Duke continued. ‘Traitors all. I’ll flog the truth out of them.’
‘You do that, and they will turn on you,’ Arthur warned him. ‘By all means find the culprits, but do it quietly, and do it later. For now you must act as if nothing had happened.’ He indicated the guests. ‘Or you will alarm them.’
‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ The Duke nodded as he fought to steady his nerves. He cleared his throat and forced a smile as he waved towards the doors leading into the palace. ‘My friends, now that the review is complete, refreshments await within!’
With Arthur at his side, he led the way down the steps and across the gravel towards the doors, which were hurriedly opened by footmen. Behind them the rest of the audience followed, muttering in muted tones as some of them took a last glance across the courtyard in case the soldiers returned.
‘Not a word to my wife about this, do you understand?’ Arthur said to Somerset as he related the attempt on his life later that afternoon back at the embassy.
‘Of course, your grace. But are you certain you were the target?’
‘There were two shots fired; there could have been more.’ Arthur recalled the scene briefly as he stood, several paces back from the window of his office, and looked down into the boulevard where a steady stream of Parisians trudged past in the rain. He continued grimly, ‘The shots were aimed at me, and the Duke. I have no doubt of it. They intended assassination. And it’s not the first time that England’s enemies have contemplated the act.’
Somerset nodded. There had been other reports of such plots from local agents, in the pay of the embassy. These had been passed on to London, and the Prime Minister, Lord Liverpool, had informed Arthur that they were reconsidering his appointment as ambassador.
Arthur puffed out his cheeks. ‘Now then, we must think on the implications of this afternoon’s attempt on my life. Pass the word to our agents, that they are to keep their eyes and ears open for any hint of another plot. I want to know everything. Also, the embassy’s officials will need to be aware of the threat. They will need to be diligent about their safety whenever they leave the embassy. I will take an escort with me from now on. Pick four good men. They are to ride behind my carriage when I go out. They are to dress plainly and keep their weapons out of sight. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, your grace. And what of your wife’s excursions?’
‘My wife?’ Arthur stroked his chin. ‘I’ll speak to her first. At dinner.’
‘I don’t understand, my dear.’ Kitty shook her head. ‘If there is nothing to fear, then why should I curtail my social rounds?’
‘It is just a precaution,’ Arthur replied gently. ‘You’ve seen how it is in the streets. The Bonapartists are more open about their grievances than ever. Now is not a particularly good time to be English in Paris. But it will pass. The new regime will not tolerate them for much longer.’
Kitty cheerfully sawed into another piece of beef as she replied, ‘My dear Arthur, I have not seen anything to discomfort me when I am abroad. But if it is your wish that I exercise caution, then I will.’
‘Thank you, Kitty.’
She popped her fork lightly into her mouth and chewed the meat before she spoke again. ‘And what of the children? Are they to join us at Christmas, as we planned?’
Arthur had already considered this, and nodded. ‘Let them come. I am sure there is no danger. Besides, if they did not come our French hosts might be offended.’
‘Oh?’
‘Kitty, we must show them that we are not fearful. We must continue as normal.’
‘You said there was no danger.’
‘Nor is there. No real danger.’
Kitty paused and narrowed her eyes as she stared across the table at her husband.‘You are not telling me the whole truth, are you? What has happened, Arthur?’
‘Nothing that need concern you, my dear,’ he replied, with what he hoped was a comforting smile. ‘Perhaps I am being over-cautious.’
‘And perhaps you are endangering our sons.’
Arthur stared at her for a moment. ‘I would never do that. Believe me. They will be safe enough in Paris, I give you my word.’
‘Safe enough?’
‘By God, Kitty, I tell you they will be safe!’ Arthur snapped. ‘Arthur and Charles will join us here. It is decided.’
Kitty lowered her knife and fork and sat back in her chair, her expression nervous. ‘There is no need to raise your voice, my dear. I bend to your will in all things. You know that, and I know that you think less of me for it. I am not such a fool as you sometimes think.’
‘Kitty, I never—’
‘Hush. I know you would never say it to my face. But I ask you, what kind of father places his children in a position of lesser safety for the sake of his country’s reputation?’
Arthur stared at her in silence for a moment before he responded flatly, ‘We do what we must for our country. All of us. It is as simple as that. It is the duty that comes with our rank, even for the youngest of us.’
Arthur and Charles arrived late in December, escorted by a maidservant and three footmen, one of whom turned out to be a government agent carrying a despatch for Arthur. After greeting his children he withdrew to his office to break open the seal and read the contents. Lord Liverpool had given much thought to the deteriorating situation in Paris and was anxious that Arthur be preserved from the dangers of assassins since his country may have need of his services as a general once again. Therefore Castlereagh was to be recalled from Vienna and Arthur would represent Britain’s interests in his place. Somerset would remain in Paris to run the embassy and Arthur was advised that Kitty and the children should also remain, to reassure King Louis that Arthur intended to return to Paris once the Congress had concluded its business.
Although the diplomatic situation was still grave there was some good news. A peace had been agreed between Britain and the United States. That, Arthur was reassured, would mean that the government’s attention could focus on Europe. It would also mean that more soldiers would be available for deployment in the army under Arthur’s command in the Netherlands.
Christmas passed peacefully and Arthur and Kitty did their best to entertain the two boys by showing them the sights of the French capital. Even as he tried his best to play the role of a dutiful father, Arthur’s mind was distracted by the burdens of wider affairs. He had urged the French King to order Talleyrand to co-operate with Castlereagh in Vienna, and early in the new year a secret treaty was signed, binding Britain, France and Austria in a pact against the other two powers if war broke out.
Arthur left Paris in the last week of January, travelling by carriage to Vienna where he arrived on the evening of 3 February. Despite the late hour he sought out Castlereagh at the fine mansion that had been allotted to the English representatives at the Congress. Castlereagh looked grey and exhausted when Arthur was shown into his study by a servant. The other man rose, smiled wearily and came across the room to take Arthur’s hand.
‘Good to see you again, Arthur. How was the journey?’
‘Long and wet.’
‘Loquacious as ever,’ Castlereagh chuckled. ‘Still, reticence will serve you well here in Vienna. Despite civilised appearances - there seems to be a ball, banquet or ballet happening almost every hour of the day - the place is a nest of vipers.’
‘So I gathered from your letters.’
‘Talleyrand and Metternich are the most devious scoundrels I have ever encountered, forever doing the rounds of private salons and offices proposing secret deals and selling confidences. Why, they have turned such practices into a virtual industry. I suppose I should be grateful at least that they happen to be “our” scoundrels. At least for the present.’
‘I take it that you have had to offer them disbursements to support our position?’ Arthur asked as he sat down. Castlereagh resumed his seat and nodded.
‘I probably did not need to have offered such inducements, but the situation is such that I was not prepared to take the risk. Now that we have the treaty signed and sealed, I hope that you will not have to pay them another penny.’ Castlereagh smiled faintly. ‘I know you have a pronounced distaste for bribes and back room chicanery.’
‘That is right,’ Arthur replied firmly. ‘I believe that men of honour can achieve more lasting good through being patient and observant than through politicking.’
‘Then you will be something of an oddity at the Congress.’ Castlereagh paused and looked at Arthur shrewdly. ‘Though I dare say such an approach might win much favour after the deviousness of recent months. Besides, your reputation goes before you. The Tsar considers you to be the greatest hero of the age, to the chagrin of his own generals, of course.’
‘Tsar Alexander is inclined to be generous in his praise,’ Arthur recalled from his meetings with the Tsar in London the previous summer.
‘Don’t be fooled, Arthur. Alexander is as absolute a ruler as Bonaparte ever was, and just as keen to expand his domains. He has managed to dupe the King of Prussia into supporting his claims and paid him off with the promise of a few sops from Poland as well as a free hand as far as the other German states are concerned. If that is permitted then there can be no question of a just equilibrium in Europe, and war will be inevitable. That is what you must prevent at any cost.’ Castlereagh paused briefly. ‘At least with the treaty, you will have a stick to beat them with if Alexander and Frederick William continue to push for more advantages in the final settlement.’
