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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

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The malcontents had, therefore, decided to provoke a collision with the object of its resulting in French intervention. On December 27th they staged a great demonstration in the Via Medici and were dispersed by the cavalry of the Papal Guard. Next day a similar scene took place outside the French Embassy. General Duphot, a young officer who had served with great distinction under Bonaparte in the north, ran out into the courtyard of the Embassy waving a drawn sword. It was said that he ran out to make peace; but more probably it was to lead the insurgents, and he was shot dead by the
Papalini
. Joseph Bonaparte had seen no alternative but to demand his passports, after what was regarded as the
assassination of his military adviser, and the arrogance of the French had by then reached such a pitch that nothing short of the occupation of Rome would satisfy them for Duphot's untimely death.

On leaving Italy, Bonaparte had nominated his Chief-of-Staff, General Berthier, as Commander of the French Army occupying the Cisalpine Republic, and Berthier had been ordered to march his Army south for the chastisement of the Eternal City. His progress had been rapid and the news was circulating that he had entered Rome on February 13th without meeting opposition.

On the Friday morning, after reporting to his General, Roger arrived promptly at nine o'clock at the fine mansion in the Rue du Bac, now occupied by the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Talleyrand received him like a long-lost brother and ushered him into a small, private dining room, where a breakfast in keeping with wealthy households in that age was served. There was a wide choice of hot dishes, with cold game, Westphalian ham and hothouse fruit to follow. While they ate, a
sommelier
, wearing his silver chain of office, kept their glasses filled with a Château Latour that had lain for twenty years in bin.

As soon as they were seated Talleyrand asked for an account of Roger's narrow escape from execution. When it had been given him he murmured, ‘I find this exceedingly diverting, in view of the fact that the magistrates in Boulogne were entirely right in supposing you to be—well, you will understand what I mean.'

‘On the contrary,' Roger replied quickly, ‘they were grossly wrong in their assumption of both my nationality and my intent.'

‘You imply that you have taken out naturalisation papers. How wise of you. When did you do that?'

‘I have not done so. Such a step would result in endless fuss. Meanwhile, I would probably be deprived of the right to serve the country of my adoption.'

‘That, from what I have learned in the past few days, would be a grievous loss. General Bonaparte thinks very highly of you.'

‘I am most gratified to hear it. I have the greatest admiration for his talents and am devoted to him.'

‘Yes, he has an amazing capacity for inspiring devotion,' Talleyrand agreed. ‘Shortly after I took office he sent Monge—you remember Monge, the scientist and the last Minister of the Navy under our late King—back from Italy with Berthier, to report on his intentions with regard to the future of northern Italy. I was immensely impressed by the way in which they spoke of him. After talking with them I came to the conclusion that here at last was the man France needed to rid us of these incompetent rogues who now govern the country and to make her once again respected among the nations. I then wrote to him, offering him my friendship and my support in any measures he might propose for the betterment of our affairs.'

‘I know,' smiled Roger. ‘I read your letter, I was much amused by the flattery you used to tickle his vanity and win him as your ally. I even recall your most telling phrase: “In our negotiations the very name of Bonaparte is a help that should smooth over all our difficulties.”'

For the fraction of a second Talleyrand, arch-diplomatist though he was, disclosed that he was taken aback. ‘You … saw my letter? Pray, how did that come about?'

‘It so happens,' Roger replied lightly, ‘that I am not only accounted a passable swordsman—an attribute that I share with the majority of Bonaparte's other Staff officers—but I am also capable of drafting a lucid despatch, or making a reliable précis of a long report. Most of these bravos would rather face charging cavalry than undertake such work; so Bonaparte employed me while at Montebello as an assistant to Bourrienne.'

Talleyrand slowly drank a little of the superb claret, then he murmured, ‘Then you are privy to all our secrets?'

‘Certainly, my dear Minister, and I have deserved this confidence. Moreover, as we have long been allies with no secrets from one another, I will let you into a confidence that I would disclose to no one else. Bonaparte never had any intention of making a descent on England this year, and he is set on leading an Army to win glory in the East.'

It was Talleyrand's turn to smile. ‘I am already aware of
that, and gather it has long been his ambition. In fact, I have done my best to smooth his path to its accomplishment. As far back as July I addressed a memorandum to the Institute, pointing out France's need for colonies and urging that, since we had lost nearly all our possessions in the West Indies to the British, we should now turn our eyes east and make a bid for a great part of the decaying Ottoman Empire. I have since made two confidential reports to the Directors, one on January 28th and another as recently as February 15th in which I have pointed to Egypt as the vulnerable spot because, although they are technically subject to the Sultan, the Mameluke Beys who rule there flout his authority and so might be subdued by France with the Sultan's connivance.'

Roger shook his head. ‘To me it sounds a crazy project. Bonaparte might well find himself cut off there, and from lack of supplies have his whole Army founder in the desert sands, as happened with Cambyrer the Persian. As far as I personally am concerned, I'll have no part in it. Should he persuade the Directors to agree to his plan, I shall feign sickness or resort to some other ruse to evade having to accompany him.'

‘You said but now that you were devoted to him.'

‘Indeed, I am. But not to the point of risking dying of thirst without rendering him any useful service. A year ago I was in Egypt, also in India. That is a major reason for Bonaparte's regard for me. At Montebello, having no campaign to direct and being bewitched by these countries, he made me give him descriptions of them that lasted for hours. But, having been to Egypt and seen something of its deserts, I've no mind to die in one of them.'

‘Why then did you further excite his imagination concerning these countries, as you obviously must have done to hold his attention for so long, rather than leave him to pursue the obvious course—a descent on England?'

‘Because anything would be preferable to that,' Roger replied boldly. ‘The chances of getting an Army ashore with its artillery without interference by the British Navy are almost negligible. But, that apart, a direct attack upon their homeland would antagonise the English to such a degree that there could never be any reconciliation in our lifetime. And
you know as well as I do that nothing short of a peace between France and Britain can bring about a permanent settlement of the upheavals that have disrupted the Continent these past eight years.'

‘You are right in that,' Talleyrand agreed, ‘and it has ever been my ambition to bring the two nations to a friendly understanding. But you are wrong in regarding Egypt as a death-trap and supposing that its conquest would not greatly benefit France, as well as gild Bonaparte's laurels. Once there I am confident that he would manage to establish himself; and to seize Egypt for France is no new idea. Over a hundred years ago Libniz proposed it to Louis XIV. In Louis XV's time the Duc de Choiseul actually drew up a plan for the sending of an expedition and, only a few years before the Revolution, it was revived by Saint-Priest, who was then our Ambassador in Constantinople. Talking of which, I will let you into a little secret. I have promised Bonaparte to get myself appointed Ambassador to the Porte, with the object of persuading the Sultan to agree to France replacing the Mamelukes in Egypt.'

‘You really believe, then, that Bonaparte could succeed in maintaining himself there?'.

For a moment Talleyrand was silent, then he said thoughtfully, ‘Provided the English do not become apprised of our plan and send a Fleet into the Mediterranean, I do not see why he should not. And if he does the project should pay us immense dividends. Unlike France, whose main source of wealth lies in her agriculture, that of Britain is derived from commerce. If we held Malta and both ends of the Mediterranean we could ruin her great trade with the Levant. Moreover, consider Egypt's geographical position. She is readily accessible from Europe and is a bridgehead into both Asia and Africa. As a base for further operations, followed by a great increase in our trade with the East, she is, therefore, invaluable. Expeditions mounted there could sweep north through Syria and overrun the huge territories of the decadent Ottoman Empire, or be despatched against India with equal ease. One can hardly put a limit to what Bonaparte may achieve if the Directory let him have his way.'

‘Do you think they will?'

‘You may count it as certain. They are terrified of him, and would consent to anything to be rid of him.'

‘They really fear, then, that he may stage a
coup d'etat
and throw them out?'

‘I doubt if he yet feels strong enough to attempt it. He would be content, for the moment at least, if he were made a Director. However, there is a law stipulating that no Director shall be less than forty years of age, and he is not yet twenty-nine. He is pressing for the law to be altered, but it is most unlikely they would agree to that. To have him among them would mean that they would become no more than his lackeys.'

For a moment Talleyrand paused, then he continued, ‘However, if he survives his Egyptian venture I have little doubt the day will come when he will sweep them away. His ambition is unbounded. At our first meeting he said to me, “You are a nephew of the Archbishop of Cambrai, who is now with Louis XVIII at Mitau.” Note, he referred to the royal exile not by the only title Republican France accords him—the Comte de Lille—but as “King”. Then he went on, “I also have an uncle who is an Archdeacon in Corsica. He brought me up. In Corsica, you know, an Archdeacon is the same as a Bishop in France.” I was secretly a little amused by his anxiety to show that he also was a gentleman. But the way he spoke gave me furiously to think. It struck me that within a year or two he may well be talking of “we nobles” and that perhaps a time might even come when he will be referring to Louis XVI as “my poor uncle”.'

Roger laughed. ‘Oh, come! That is going a little far.'

‘Well, we shall see,' smiled the diplomat. ‘In the meantime there is another reason why the Directors must get him out of France. The war with Austria is over, and they are left with an enormous Army on their hands. They dare not disband even a half of the two hundred and fifty thousand men now under arms and allow them to return to France without pay or employment.'

‘I agree,' Roger nodded. ‘To do so would be to invite anarchy and another revolution more bloody than the first.'

‘Then, since they cannot be sent against England, they must be employed elsewhere. Even as things are, the Government
is at its wits' end where to find the money with which to continue to pay them.'

‘What, after receiving all the hundreds of millions that Bonaparte sent the Directory from Italy?'

‘Yes. France is bankrupt. That is why General Ménard has been sent into Switzerland. A Republican Party hardly exists there. Those petitions asking for our protection are a farce and carry only a few score names. But the Swiss are a wealthy people. Incidents must be provoked, so that we have an excuse to intervene and, having presented a bill for restoring order, loot the rich treasuries of the Cantons. Thus we shall get the millions to pay our troops.'

Roger sighed. ‘What a disgraceful and revolting business! But where have all the millions gone that were looted from Italy?'

‘No doubt you have been to one of Barras's receptions at the Luxembourg. They take place every night. Scores of other Government officials have poured the money away to only a slightly less degree. Then there are the Army contractors. They are like a swarm of locusts and the whole administration leaks gold like one vast sieve.'

With a little smile, Talleyrand went on, ‘In this I am happy to think that my own hands are clean. Immediately I was appointed Foreign Minister I determined to make my fortune out of the post, because to live well is the breath of life to me. And I'm doing none too badly. But at no cost to France. I take only foreign money, for greasing the wheels in our negotiations with foreign Powers. That is a perquisite which Foreign Ministers in every country have always enjoyed.'

For a moment they were silent, then Talleyrand said casually, ‘But about yourself, my dear fellow. How long is it since you decided to become a Frenchman?'

Roger knew that the critical moment had come, but he answered with equal casualness. ‘Quite recently. Last autumn, in fact. You will recall that when first we met I told you of how I had run away from home to France, rather than enter the Navy as my father wished. For that he has never forgiven me. In consequence, I have neither patronage nor fortune in England. In '94 I decided to try my luck in
the West Indies, as my cousin had recently been made Governor of Martinique. But we had quarrelled when young, and he still held it against me; so I returned to England. Then in '96 I sailed to India, having heard that fortunes could be made there swiftly. Unfortunately, I am not suited to trade and succeeded only in getting myself into debt.'

Talleyrand smiled. ‘In that we are birds of a feather. I attempted to repair my fortune while in America by dabbling in commerce, and I had no luck. But please continue.'

‘Finding myself at the end of my tether, I saw no point in remaining in a country rendered uncongenial by intense heat and poisonous reptiles. So I got together what money I could and returned to Europe by way of Egypt. In Venice I again met Madame Bonaparte, who was already a good friend of mine, and she took me to the General's headquarters at Montebello. I served with him at the siege of Toulon, and was also with him on 13th
Vendemiaire
. We had also, on numerous occasions, discussed matters of strategy and, evidently feeling that I could be useful to him, he offered me a post as one of his aides-de-camp. It was then that, seeing no possible future for myself in England, I decided to cut myself off for good from the country of my birth and follow the path of fortune that had been opened to me in France.'

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