'You forget Madame Mere."
'True, the old lady is a tower of rectitude, and at least conserved the great fortune she has been given, against a day when her wonder child should overreach himself.'
'That day has come, and he had much of it off her to pay for the two hundred thousand new uniforms he ordered when he got back to Paris last November.'
After a moment Roger said, 'I take it that, now Murat has ratted, we can count Italy lost to France, as well as all Germany, Holland and Switzerland.'
'Not altogether. When the Emperor took over the command of the Elbe from Prince Eugene, he sent him back to his old post as Viceroy of Italy. The young Beauharnais at least is loyal, and an able General. Murat's Neapolitans are not distinguished for their love of battle, so Eugene has little to fear from them; and the Alps give him a strong line of defence to hold back the Austrians when they attempt to break through into the plain of Lombardy.
'But now we must think of yourself. The Emperor is in Paris, so you must report to him. He is holding a reception at the Tuileries three days hence, before leaving for the front. That will be time enough for you to make your service to him. In the meantime I suggest you give out that your wound re-opened again recently, and go about on crutches.'
Roger gave a wry smile. 'You Highness's advice is, as ever, sound. I'll do that, and pray to God it saves me from being forced into some unwelcome post. I cannot go to the Tuileries though in this stained and threadbare uniform. So, with your permission, I'll to my tailor without delay.'
At his tailors Roger demanded and received priority; so, on the 23rd, he was able to accompany Talleyrand to the Tuileries dressed with all his old elegance; but, owing to the ministrations of the Prince's valet, his appearance was very different from what it had been when he arrived in Paris.
The man was an artist in make-up, and had skilfully transformed Roger's face. A liquid had made his cheeks pale, without appearing to be painted or powdered, there were deep shadows under his eyes and little lines radiating from the corners and from the sides of his mouth. The naturally grey wings of hair above his ears now merged into grey hair all over his head. In addition, not only did he walk with crutches, which he had used during the past two days whenever he went out, but his injured leg had been strapped up behind him on a peg leg with a sling.
As the Emperor was about to defend France from invasion he had again become a hero, and everyone who was anyone in Paris had come to cheer him on to victory; so the palace was a seething mass of senators, soldiers, officials and their ladies. Slowly Talleyrand and Roger made their way up the grand staircase and into the Throne Room. Napoleon was standing with the Empress on one side of him, and on the other, their fair-haired three-year-old son, the King of Rome, dressed in the uniform of the National Guard.
When Roger at last came opposite them and awkwardly made his bow, the Emperor exclaimed:
'Why, Breuc, what a pleasant surprise to see you. I thought you lost to us at Leipzig.'
'I thank you, Sire,' Roger replied in a feeble voice. 'I got away with my life, but that is about all. My only regret is that neither physically nor mentally am I any longer capable of serving you.'
Napoleon tweaked his ear, the old familiar gesture of good will. 'I am the loser, Breuc; but I take the will for the deed. And you should not be here in Paris, but in the sunshine at your little chateau near St. Maxime, where you used to winter on account of your weak chest.'
With a murmur of thanks Roger bowed awkwardly again, and passed on, immensely relieved that his pretended inability to be of any use had been accepted.
When the last of those present had made their bows, the ushers rapped loudly on the parquet for silence. The Emperor then addressed the assembly in a loud, clear voice. He announced that he had appointed the Empress as Regent and his brother, King Joseph, Lieutenant General of France. Taking his small son by the hand he went on:
'Gentlemen, I am about to set out for the Army. I entrust to you what I hold dearest in the world—my wife and son. Let there be no political divisions.' He then lifted the boy on to his shoulder and carried him about among the great dignitaries of the Empire and the officers of the National Guard, to whom he had particularly addressed himself.
It was a most touching scene. He had not commanded, but appealed to their feelings as human beings. The great chamber rang for minutes on end with applause and fervid protestations of loyalty.
On leaving Paris the Emperor travelled swiftly eastward to Chalons. Blucher was to the south of him and, he learned, heading further south with the object of joining Schwarzenberg's Austrians. Napoleon, who throughout this campaign displayed a remarkable recovery in vitality, military genius and swiftness of decision, immediately marched south to prevent the two armies from combining against him. On January 29th, at Brienne—where, as a penniless youth of only the lowest stratum of nobility and speaking French with an atrocious Italian accent, he had been a cadet at the Military Academy—he fell upon the Prussians, driving them from the castle and the town. Blucher retreated toward Bar-sur-Aube and there had the support of Schwarzenberg. On February 1st the Allies attacked with greatly superior numbers. Although the French fought gallantly in a snow storm, endeavouring for eight hours to hold the village of La Rothiere, they were outflanked and defeated with a loss of three thousand men and seventy-three cannon—a loss they could ill afford, in view of the hugely superior numbers of the Allies.
The immense wealth Talleyrand had acquired during his long association with the Emperor enabled him to maintain a small army of couriers. They not only brought him early news of these battles, but also kept him in communication with Prince Metternich, the Czar and Royalist agents of King Louis XVIII, who was living at Hartwell in England.
On February 3rd the Emperor entered Troyes and his distress at his defeat was much increased by his reception. Far from cheering him with their old ardour, the inhabitants, already half-starved themselves, sullenly refused to supply his troops with anything. The soldiers, too, were desperately hungry and so cast down that six thousand of them deserted.
The weather also inflicted the most terrible hardship on the combatants. It was the worst winter for many years, and so cold that oxen were being roasted on the ice that had formed over the rivers. Blizzards frequently hid opposing bodies of troops from one another, deep drifts of snow hampered their movements, wood for the camp fires was so difficult to obtain that they often went out long before dawn and the men were compelled to sleep in huddles to keep the life in their bodies.
The situation in Paris was also grim. The funds had dropped five points, and the rich, now fearing that the capital would be sacked by the ferocious Russians, were fleeing with their jewels to their chateaux in the country.
Up to the end of the year Lord Aberdeen had been Britain's ambassador to Austria, but early in January Lord Castlereagh, the Foreign Minister, had decided to take over negotiations himself, and travelled in great discomfort to join Metternich in Basle. They liked each other and found much common ground on how Europe should be reconstituted after Napoleon had been finally defeated.
Before leaving England Castlereagh, who dominated the Cabinet, had secured its approval of his own views. The most important of these were : no interference with Britain's 'Maritime Rights'; complete independence for Spain, Portugal and Holland, the latter to be given as a barrier Belgian lands which positively must exclude the French from the great port of Antwerp; that France should become a Limited Monarchy; no undue hardships to be inflicted on the French people, so that they might the sooner become reconciled to their late enemies; and that the Grand Alliance should be kept in being after the war to preserve the peace of Europe.