The Rape of Venice (58 page)

‘You know his immense energy. He gave them no time to talk or grumble. The Army was short of everything but, all the same, within a fortnight of his taking over, we were up in the Ligurian Alps firing our first shots at the village of Montenotte.'

With uncheckable enthusiasm, Junot talked on for over an hour, describing victory after victory fought in the summer heats across the rivers Adda, Po, Mincio and Adige, then during the desperate winter campaign up through the snow-clad Alps into Austria.

Then he spoke of the new army that Buonaparte had forged. ‘You'll find it very different from that with which we served at Toulon. It hadn't altered much when the little man took it over. The troops were still just ill-disciplined cut-throats who thought themselves as good as their officers. They got no pay and had few clothes; many of them had rags wrapped round their feet because there were no boots. Only a flaming belief that they were fighting to save the revolution kept them going. But the General has altered all that. Money and paintings aren't the only things we've had out of Italy. Every tailor, cobbler and saddler in the country has been made to sweat blood. You'll have seen some of our smart new uniforms in Venice, though.

Another thing: from the beginning he abandoned the practice of calling them “Citizens” and instead always addresses them as “Soldiers”. Among the officers, too, the word “Monsieur” has come back, and woe betide the rough-neck who dares any longer to question an order. All that old business of soldiers' committees, that had to have the situation explained to them and be argued round before they would agree to attack, has long since gone by the board.

‘Buonaparte has changed too. Even his closest friends no longer dare “thee” and “thou” him. He keeps himself very much aloof, and rightly so. He is no longer interested in Corsica, either. You'll remember how passionately he used to discourse on the island's right to independence. Now, for him, it has become just one of the Departments of France, and he looks upon himself as a Frenchman. He has even changed the
spelling of his name so that it now sounds more French, and signs everything “Bonepart”.'

Roger listened, fascinated, to all this, but he was desperately tired; so, when Junot went off again to dance, he left the Palace, had himself taken back to the French Embassy and there flopped into bed.

Next morning, his face still lined and his eyes deeply shadowed from his recent ordeal, but in excellent heart, he went to his old lodging near the church of the Spirito Sancto. The landlord, naturally, did not at first recognise him, but he told him that he had been living there in disguise, spoke of Captain Battista and the previous day's trial, of which the man had heard, and soon convinced him of his identity. Up in the room he had occupied he retrieved, from under the floorboards, his Bills of Exchange on London, the equivalent of fifty guineas in gold, a small silk bag containing the jewels that the Rai-ul-daula had given him, and the letter from Mr. Pitt.

The first, if his luck turned again, and was found upon him, he would be able to account for, but the last he certainly could not. The letter had served him well, and he was loath to part with it, but to keep it was a risk that he felt he could not afford to take; so, using his tinder box, he burnt it to ashes.

From among the jewels, he selected a star sapphire as big as a hazel nut which, set in a surround of small diamonds, had been used as a hair ornament but could be made into a very unusual brooch, and slipped it into his waistcoat pocket. The other items he disposed of about his person; then he paid the landlord what was due to him and crossed the Grand Canal to wait upon Madame Boneparte in the Doge's Palace.

She received him as an old friend, in négligé, lying on a gilt day-bed while her hair was being dressed and coiled with ribbons high on her head, á
la Grecque.
With the abandonment fashionable under the Directory, she was wearing only the most flimsy garments, through which he could see a good part of her well-rounded limbs. Her retroussé nose deprived her of real beauty, but her brown eyes were large and luminous, and there was a voluptuousness about her that drew many men to her like a lodestone.

After he had kissed her hand, he went down on one knee and offered her the jewel. Never having seen one like it before, she examined it with delight, but then refused to take it, saying that she was still his debtor rather than he hers.

But, knowing her love of pretty things, he insisted that she
should, telling the glib lie that he had brought it all the way from India for her.

At that she exclaimed with astonishment and begged him to tell her about that distant land. For half an hour he entertained her with accounts of Rajahs' palaces, snake-charmers, hunting tigers from the back of an elephant, and other true travellers' tales, then she said:

The General-in-Chief will be enthralled to have an eyewitness account of such matters, Monsieur. He has always been intrigued by the East and, as you may know, once contemplated leaving the French service for that of the Grand Turk. No doubt, now that you are returned, he will offer you suitable employment. He always prefers to have familiar faces about him, and in recent months he has displayed a special preference for those whose breeding distinguishes them by their good manners. You fulfil both of those requirements so I am sure he will give you a warm welcome. Meanwhile, I should be most happy if you would accept a post as one of my equerries.'

Roger's hesitation was hardly perceptible. Willy-nilly, he had been pitched back into the tortuous maze of international intrigue, and the offer of the appointment led right to the heart of it. Smiling, he expressed his thanks and the pleasure he would derive from becoming one of her personal entourage.

Having kissed her plump hand again, he left her and returned to the Embassy. Villetard was out, but an hour later he came in and Roger asked him for a quarter of an hour's private conversation. He readily assented and they went into his office.

Since his rescue the previous morning, Roger had had no opportunity to take any steps against Malderini, but he had found time to consider how best to deal with him. His own position as the friend of Madame Boneparte was now unassailable, and his identity as a Frenchman having been proved beyond dispute automatically convicted Malderini of deliberate perjury with intent to secure the death of a French citizen. He might, in the past twenty-four hours, Roger realised, have fled the city; but, if he had, he could not have got far, and with all Northern Italy now virtually a French province, it should not be difficult to have him hunted down.

Roger's first thought had been to get Villetard to have him arrested, and clapped in the Leads, and have strict orders given that he should receive no money; as, for a man of his age and
poor physique on short rations, that would almost inevitably mean a lingering death in the darkness. But it might be many months, or even several years, before he finally gave up the ghost; and, whereas he could have seen to it that Roger was kept there indefinitely, the reverse did not apply, as Roger would be leaving Venice and, if the city was to be restored to independence, soon after peace was signed the French would leave it too.

On consideration, he decided that the best way of making certain of his object was to get Villetard to have Malderini brought to the Embassy and confined in one of its cellars on the pretext that he was withholding valuable information. He could then go down at night to ‘question him', and he would be found dead in the morning. Even if it was suspected that Roger had put an end to him, no action would be taken. Plenty of people had met their deaths in similar ways in Venice these past few months. His body would be thrown into the canal the following night, and that would be the end of the matter.

In consequence, as soon as they were seated in Villetard's room, he confirmed what he had hinted in his letter—that his reason for getting into the Malderini Palace had been not a romantic one, but in connection with secret work for the Republic about which he was not at liberty to speak—and asked that Malderini should be arrested, brought to the Embassy as soon as possible, and locked up in a cellar.

As Villetard listened to this request, he began to look uncomfortable and, when Roger had done, he said, ‘Citizen, you know how eager I am to be of service to you, but I greatly fear this is a matter in which I cannot do as you wish. Quite apart from your desire to question. Malderini in connection with this work you speak of, you must naturally be feeling an intense resentment against him for having so nearly brought about your death, and it would be no more than a mild revenge to keep him here or, better still, in the Leads, for some months on bread and water. But, unfortunately, I could not agree to either, because he is one of my most valuable agents.'

Having learned from Mr. Watson that Malderini had established himself as the head of a conspiracy which aimed, at the first opportunity, to oust French influence from Venice, Villetard's disclosure showed that the Venetian was playing a double game. That did not surprise Roger, but he could not reveal the source of information, so could do no more than throw suspicion on his enemy; and he said with a frown:

‘You surprise me greatly. After all, he is an ex-Senator, so he must be strongly antagonistic to the new Republican régime. In fact, I heard a rumour a few days ago which led me to believe that he is actually involved in a conspiracy to overthrow it. If we had him here we might find means to get the truth out of him; and it may well transpire that he is double-crossing you.'

Villetard put a finger to his long nose and smiled. ‘Such a proceeding is quite unnecessary, Citizen. Trust me to know what goes on in Venice. Between us two, the rumour you heard has substance. Since his return from India he has made himself the head of a resistance movement and he keeps me informed about it. He is hard at work encouraging all the disaffected elements here to unite. When the time is ripe, they will prepare a rising. He will let me know shortly before it is to take place, and we shall pounce. Thus, in one swoop, we shall net all our most dangerous enemies. You see now how, for the time being, it is absolutely essential that he should be left at liberty.'

This complete check to Roger's plans filled him with intense annoyance, but clearly there was no way in which he could
overcome it; so, after a moment, he asked, ‘And after this fine
coup
has taken place? What then?'

‘Oh, he will claim his reward.' Villetard shrugged. ‘If Venice retains her independence, he hopes to persuade General Boneparte to agree to some modification of its Government. It would have to remain a People's Republic, of course, with an elected Chamber of Deputies, but the office of Doge might be revived as a substitute for Mayor, and it is that which he hopes for. But once a traitor, always a traitor. We'd be fools to leave such a man here as First Magistrate. Far better throw him to the lions—or, in this case, to you. Once he has served his purpose, I'd have no difficulty in finding an excuse to put him in the Leads for as long as you like, or, if you prefer, have him knifed for you one dark night.'

Roger would have much preferred to see the business concluded within the next few days, but that would have meant his seeking out and killing Malderini himself and, strong as his position now was, he was greatly averse to risking being charged with murder, particularly as the deliberate wrecking of Villetard's plans might jeopardise the extent of French protection he could otherwise have relied on. After only a moment's thought he decided that he must leave Malderini a few more weeks of life, and rely on Villetard's promise to ensure having his revenge after the
coup
had taken place.

That afternoon, he was one of the gilded throng that attended Madame Boneparte on a water procession up the Grand Canal, but unfortunately the splendid spectacle was spoiled by one of the terrific thunderstorms to which Venice is subject. In the evening there were further festivities at the Doge's Palace, and a fine display of fireworks. Then on the following morning, August 26th, having acted as her husband's Ambassador and conveyed to the people of Venice his most friendly feelings and deep concern for their future welfare, she set out on her return journey to his headquarters.

As one of her suite, Roger accompanied her and, now that he was again a free man with no immediate problems to worry him, he thoroughly enjoyed taking part in this semi-royal progress. The procession of barges left Venice to the roar of cannon and were received by the forts at Mestre with another volley of salutes, but their passengers did not land there. Instead, they continued on by the Brenta canal past graceful Palladian villas and between smiling vineyards and cherry-orchards up to Padua, where they spent the night.

Next day the journey was resumed with the ladies in coaches, the gentlemen riding beside them, and with a full regiment of Chasseurs clattering along before and behind as escort. They travelled by Vicenza, Verona and Brescia, at each being lodged in the sumptuous apartments of some great palace and being lavishly entertained by the authorities of the city. The fifth day was their longest stage, but relays of horses were always ready for them every few miles, and as twilight fell they arrived at the imposing Chateau Montebello, three miles outside Milan, which Boneparte had made his permanent residence since the cessation of the fighting.

Soon after the arrival of Josephine's cortège, Junot spoke to Duroc, the Master of the Household, about accommodation for Roger, but the Chateau was so crowded that only an attic could be found for him. Having freshened himself up as well as he could there, he went down to the great chambers of the building, and mingled With the many people who were lounging and gossiping in them, until the General made his appearance with Josephine on his arm on their way to supper.

From what Junot had said, and various remarks made on the journey, Roger had been prepared to find a big change between Buonaparte, as he had known him in Paris, and Boneparte the conqueror; but, even so, it far exceeded his expectations.