The Ravishing of Lady Mary Ware (44 page)

BOOK: The Ravishing of Lady Mary Ware
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‘Should we denude Germany, I'll warrant that country will blow up behind our backs.'

‘To replace the garrisons there, His Majesty might decide to withdraw further troops from Spain.'

‘Could he afford to do so? Are things going better in the Peninsula?'

‘Alas, no. Suchet alone seems to have read the Spanish riddle, and Valencia remains peaceful under him. Soult has again fallen back on Seville, and has come no nearer to taking Cadiz. As you must have heard, after the fall of Badajoz, poor Marmont was heavily defeated outside Salamanca, and grievously wounded by a cannon ball. He brought his defeat upon himself by being too impetuous. Had he waited but another three days before giving battle, he would have had under his hand another fifteen thousand men that King Joseph was bringing up from Madrid. As things were, he came near to losing his whole army. It was only owing to the skill displayed by General Clausel, who took over after Marmont became a casualty, that a good part of the army was saved. But it received a terrible battering and, even with King Joseph's fifteen thousand, was in no condition to give battle again. Our latest information is that our people are still retiring, and milord Wellington advancing on Madrid.'

To Roger this was excellent news, but he naturally concealed his pleasure at hearing it, and simply said, ‘Then things go really badly for us at both ends of Europe, and I know not in which army I would rather have to face
the future. But you must excuse me now. Having but just returned I have a number of things to see to.'

His several conversations had each lasted only a few minutes. Mary was standing where he had left her, and he took her across to another big building in which his room was situated. All he wished to do for the moment was to show her where it was, and make certain she could find it again. When he had done so, they walked back the way they had come and into the main block. There he led her up to the second floor and along to the room in which the Mess waiters had their quarters. Halting outside, he told her to go in, ask for Sergeant Loriel and tell him who she was. She would then be given supper, and when she had finished it she was to go to their room.

The next thing he had to do was to deal with the soldier servant, a man named Greuze, who had looked after him since he had rejoined Napoleon at Vilna. Walking back to his quarters, he found Greuze there, unpacking his valise and the panniers from Mary's horse, which had been brought up from the stables by his groom. Greuze was a lad of only seventeen, and Roger had selected him from a number of applicants, because he came from a respectable family, so kept himself clean, and was by no means robust. For the latter reason Roger did not want to send him back to normal duty, which would mean a much harder life for him; so, having returned the lad's greeting, he said:

‘While I was away from Moscow, I acquired another servant, a Flemish youth named Hipé Abrail. He has worked as a valet in a good hostelry, so will look after my clothes better than you can.'

Seeing Greuze's face fall, he went on with a smile, ‘But that is a private arrangement, and I am still entitled to a soldier servant, so I intend to keep you on. My new lad is having supper now. He will be over here in half an hour or so. When he comes in, you are to show him where you
keep your cleaning things, and tell him about the routine we normally follow. Then you can go to your quarters. After you have cleared up here, I'll not need you until tomorrow morning.'

Having established Mary in her new position in a way that he hoped would protect her from unpleasantness, he went back to the Mess and had a drink with Rapp. Soon afterwards they went in to supper and, as Roger had expected, he found himself the centre of interest. All his companions wanted to know about his journey and what St. Petersburg was like. Sitting over their wine, they continued to ply him with questions but, as soon as he decently could, by pleading fatigue, he got away.

In his room he found Mary, not in bed as he had expected, but curled up under a blanket on the straw palliasse that he had ordered to be brought. When he asked her why she had not made herself more comfortable, she said:

‘I didn't dare undress and get into bed, in case that nice young servant of yours came back, or someone else came in.'

‘You could have locked the door.'

She shook her now boyish head. ‘No, darling. Servants don't lock themselves in their master's rooms. Anyone finding I had done that would have thought it very queer.'

‘You're right,' he agreed. ‘And I was stupid to suggest it. Bless you for starting off in your new role so conscientiously. How did you get on with Sergeant Loriel?'

‘Very well. And with the others, too. They made me tell them about St. Petersburg and said I was a fool ever to have left it. But they were very pleasant to me, and think me lucky to be your servant. It's nice to know that you are so popular with the Mess orderlies.'

‘Oh, that's only because I am civil to them, and many officers don't bother to be.'

‘Nevertheless, it's going to be a big help to me. I'll reap the reflected benefit of their liking for you. Young Jean Greuze is nice, too. He comes from Pontoise, near Paris, and his father owns a little news sheet and sweet shop. He absolutely worships you for having taken him from the hard life of an ordinary soldier.'

‘He's a good lad, but delicate and not up to the hard life of the rank and file. As an officer's servant, too, he gets more and better food than he would if with his regiment.'

‘The food I was given for supper surprised me. There was a good choice, it was well cooked and there was plenty of everything. I'd gathered from you that the troops in Moscow were half-starving.'

‘They were when they got here. Since then they have not done too badly, but supplies are getting short again and you must not take the fare that Sergeant Loriel gives his boys as a criterion. Mess servants are the lucky ones, they feed nearly as well as the officers. The men in the regiments have to make do on biscuits, cheese and stew with only a few bits of meat in it. But come, my love, we must get some sleep.'

The room was one of many hundred in the vast Palace which, before the coming of the French, had been occupied by Court officials and officers of the Imperial Guard; so it was well furnished in the heavy Russian style, and they were soon snuggled up in the big, four-poster bed. The thought of what Mary might have to face by being brought to Moscow as his servant had greatly worried Roger. But he dropped off to sleep with the comforting thought that things had gone much better than he had expected.

When the bugles sounded the reveille, they got up. He told Mary where she could fill the water cans at a washroom along the corridor, then they washed and dressed and crossed the square to have their breakfasts. Before
he left her he said that, as soon as she got back, she had better set to work polishing one of his pairs of field boots, so that when Greuze arrived he would find her busy.

On his return he found them both in his room, talking cheerfully and making the bed together. When they had finished he said, ‘I am going out to make some purchases, and I wish you both to come with me.'

There were no longer shops in the city where one could buy things, but there was a strange market in the big square outside the Governor's Palace, where a part of the Imperial Guard was billeted. The vendors in the market were troops of many nations and camp-followers. When they needed money or drink or clothes, they brought pieces of their loot there and bartered them for whatever they wanted.

Many of them had small carts that they used as stalls, and Roger persuaded a Pole to part with his, which was a good, solid one in sound condition, for a tempting sum of money. When the man had emptied it of his things, Greuze placed himself between the shafts and pulled it along for Roger to put other purchases in.

Going from one stall to another, he bought high boots, sheepskin breeches, long fur coats and fur mittens for Mary and Greuze. His own clothes were of good, stout cloth, and he had a fine fur that he had bought the previous January in Stockholm, so he needed only a muff for himself when he bought muffs for them. His next purchase was two large fur carriage rugs and, after that, a good supply of flints, tinder and six dozen candles. The choice of goods at the food stalls was limited; there was little meat or game, but he was not looking for perishable goods. There was plenty of tea, so he bought several pounds quite cheaply, but a supply of sugar and half a stone of oatmeal cost him a lot of money. By chance, on one stall he saw some boxes of candied fruit, so he bought
them all and from another stall a dozen bottles of brandy. His final purchase, as an afterthought, was a block of salt. Except for the furs and the tea, he had had to pay from five to twenty times the normal price for the things he had bought, so he had spent the greater part of his money; but he had big arrears of pay on which he could draw and he knew that if he had waited until the afternoon, by which time he thought it as good as certain that it would be announced that the army was leaving Moscow, he would have had to pay three times as much.

Back at the Kremlin, his two servants carried all the things upstairs, then he said to them, ‘You, Greuze, are to come with me and wheel the cart round to the stables. Then return here and give a hand to Hipé. I want the two of you to sew together the sides and one end of the two big fur carriage rugs, so that they will serve as a large sleeping bag.'

Ten minutes later he was talking to the Guards Sergeant-Major, who was in charge of the horses belonging to the Emperor's entourage. Producing all that remained of his gold, he pointed to the little cart and said, ‘I want you to get me a small horse or, better still, a mule to draw that.'

The Sergeant-Major made a face. ‘That won't be easy, sir. You know how terrible short we are of horses. The number we lost on the way here doesn't bear telling; and fodder being so short, a good third of the poor beasts that did get here have died from lack of it since.'

‘I know, Joux,' Roger replied. ‘But an animal I must have. Procure me a good one—a good one, mind—and there are thirty napoleons for you. If all else fails, commandeer a mule from the Italians.'

‘You shall have your beast, Colonel,' the Sergeant-Major grinned. ‘Leave it to me.'

In the A.D.C.s' Mess, Roger learned that the members of the conference the Emperor had called had wrangled
for three hours, but the meeting was now over and the decision he had anticipated had been taken. The army was to evacuate Moscow and winter in Smolensk.

Opinion on the wisdom of retreating was sharply divided. Several of the younger A.D.C.s were young nobles: ex-émigrés with famous names, whom the Emperor had taken on his staff for his own aggrandisement. They were all in favour of retreat. The Niemen, which formed the frontier, was some six hundred miles distant, and Smolensk was getting on for half-way to it; so, like Duroc, they argued that, being so much nearer Poland, it would be much easier both to keep open the lines of communication and keep the army supplied.

But the older A.D.C.s who had served through many campaigns, did not agree. In such conditions the army could not be expected to march more than fifteen miles a day. That meant that it would be the first week in November before it reached Smolensk. Just as the summer had proved exceptionally hot, so the autumn weather was unusually fine and sunny. But could it be expected to last? If the snow came early, it would slow down the speed of the march and, as the troops would have to sleep in the open, it would inflict terrible hardship upon them. A great part of Moscow was in ruins, but so was Smolensk, and it was a far smaller city, so was much less easy to defend. Even if the army was cut off and Moscow besieged, they could somehow hang out there. The hardened campaigners had tightened their belts before; up in the Alps, during the siege of Genoa, on the retreat from Acre to Egypt, and many other places. They could do so again, and stick it out until reinforcements reached them in the spring.

The midday meal over, everyone set about his preparations for departure. Roger had already made his, so had only to see the Paymaster and refill his money belt with gold. In the evening he went again to the stables.
Sergeant-Major Joux had got for him a sturdy mule. Having made a careful examination of the animal's hooves, Roger willingly paid over the sum he had promised.

Over supper he learned that the Emperor had decided to leave Mortier and his Young Guard in the city, to give the enemy the impression that he meant only to strengthen his line of communication with part of the main army, then return. The Young Guard was to follow a few days later.

On the morning of October 19th, after occupying Moscow for thirty-nine days, the Grand Army began its evacuation of the city.

But it was a very different army from that which had entered it after Borodino. Then the battalions had marched in, column after column, in impressive military formation. Now, it was one vast horde, in which troops were mingled with camp-followers. The men were determined to take their loot with them. Many of them were wearing women's furs, or had costly brocade curtains draped over them. There were hundreds upon hundreds of wagons, carts, carriages and hand barrows, in fact everything left in the city that had wheels. All of them were piled high with furniture, bronzes, pictures, china, carpets, clothes, cooking utensils, antiques, jewel-encrusted weapons and sacks of food. On the top of many of them were perched women, mostly Russian whores who, unlike the vivandières, were unused to foot-slogging. About a third of the carts and carriages were drawn by horses or large dogs. The rest were pulled and pushed by groups of men wearing the uniforms of many nations: French, Italian, Polish, Prussian, Czech, Hanoverian, Swiss, Hessian, Dutch, Westphalian, Croat, Wurtenbergs, Albanian with, here and there, groups of Russian prisoners.

Only the Old Guard marched out in good order, with bands playing and tricolours fluttering beneath the gilded Eagles.

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