Текст книги "Memory of Flames"

Автор книги: Armand Cabasson

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against him, there had to be a trial. A baroness who wanted to divorce! It caused hilarity amongst the revolutionaries and there was a hue and cry amongst the aristocracy. To his horror the Baron became the laughing stock of his peers! Catherine de Saltonges had succeeded in reversing the roles. She pressed on with the trial despite pressure from her friends and family. The revolutionaries make an example of the case, the newspapers wrote about it endlessly ... I was able to track down a witness at the trial, an old soldier who had been allocated guard duty at the district tribunal. He told me that the trial became a spectacle. When the baroness was expected, reinforcements of soldiers were called in. The crowds grew ever thicker and had to be pushed back to let her through. On the one hand there were some daring priests and hordes of anxious husbands come to boo and hiss. On the other there were revolutionaries and hundreds of women of all ages! Catherine de Saltonges arrived, outwardly serene. She advanced through a barrage of insults, spitting, cheering and applauding. Then she answered the questions put to her. She repeated to the tribunal everything her so-called friends had hastened to tell her after she had discovered her husband’s true nature. Each of her husband’s infidelities became a weapon for his spouse to use against him! She repaid blow for blow. Several times the sessions degenerated and the tribunal had to be evacuated. But each time, she returned, composed, as if she had forgotten the threats and brawls of the previous session.’

Margont was perplexed. Lefine’s description did not fit at all with his memory of her. He had the feeling that the more he learned about the woman the less he knew her. ‘I don’t know if I would have had her daring, in the same situation.’

‘Well, I know that I wouldn’t. I would have left with the silver. The district tribunal found in her favour. Her husband emigrated to London, officially because of revolutionary fury, which was set to increase, but also to escape public derision.’

‘Well done, Fernand, good work!’

Lefine looked pleased. When he was complimented, he thrust his chest out like the fabled crow, though he would never have

opened his beak and let the cheese fall out...

Margont grew thoughtful.

‘What you’ve told me explains some of her behaviour.

When I met her, I had the impression that I disgusted her. I had never encountered such a reaction before. Having been deceived for such a long time made the betrayal she suffered much worse. She must have developed a hatred of lies. I think she’s on the lookout for lies everywhere and in everyone she meets. And she’s discerning – she picked up that I was not being honest with them. I’m going to have to be very careful when she’s there!’

‘If she poses the most danger to you, why don’t you seduce her?’ ‘What a despicable idea!’

‘If she’s in love she will be blind to—’

‘I don’t like the way you treat people like pawns.’

‘And how do they treat us?’

‘You can’t see her burning off the face of a corpse ... but I’m not so sure ... In any case, she’s certainly a strong character. She introduced herself under her maiden name and none of the members dared call her “Madame de Joucy”, even though they probably all disapprove of the divorce.’

‘She’s the only other member whose address we know. She doesn’t seem to be aware that the police are investigating her. She lives in Faubourg Saint-Germain – I’m having her house watched.’ ‘Are you using trustworthy men, as I asked?’

‘Yes, I can vouch for them. They haven’t discovered anything very interesting about her daily life.’

Margont rose. ‘Let’s go and stretch our legs.’

They went towards the hill of Montmartre and started to climb it slowly. It was so easy at the moment ... but should the Allies arrive at the gates of Paris, they would inevitably attack Montmartre. And so with every step, Margont imagined he was already stepping over the enemy corpses that would litter the slopes.

‘What did you find out about Honoré de Nolant? I know nothing about him, other than that he was the one the group had allocated to slit my throat, if necessary. So obviously he is capable of killing. Perhaps he has already done so ... He’s the one I know the least,

but at the same time he’s the most dangerous.’

‘You’re right to fear him, because he has done some unpleasant things. The police reports contain some interesting facts about him. His family belongs to the nobility of Champagne. As an adolescent he was part of Louis XVI’s entourage. He used to read to the King and perform other similarly useless services. Nolant really was a good friend. But he was quick to spot the change in the prevailing wind, and after 1790 he began to pass information secretly to the members of the National Assembly who were drawing up the new constitution. He passed on the details of the lives of the King, Marie-Antoinette, the dauphin ... According to what I read, he was the first to reveal the disappearance of the King and his family on the night of 20 June 1791 ...’

The flight of the King, that ended at Varennes, when a postmaster, Jean-Baptiste Drouet, recognised Louis XVI.’

‘Honoré de Nolant was cunning. By the time he had raised the alert, the royal family was already on the road. He claimed that he reacted as soon as he had noticed that the King was no longer there. But I think he was hedging his bets. Had Louis XVI been able to escape abroad, Nolant, who was certainly aware of the plan and had perhaps even helped with arrangements, would have been rewarded. But once the King was arrested, the revolutionaries stopped treating Honoré de Nolant as merely a spy and welcomed him as a real revolutionary. He changed his name to “Denolant” and had a dazzling career. In 1793 he spied on behalf of the Committee of Public Safety, the bloodthirsty alliance – Robespierre, Couthon, Saint-Just – that wanted to guillotine every Frenchman!’ ‘Another spy? Varencourt, me, now Nolant...’

‘If you stick your hand in the hornets’ nest, you shouldn’t be surprised if you keep coming across hornets.’

‘The Swords of the King must be unaware of all that. They would never have accepted such a man into their ranks! They must know only part of his history.’

‘Afterwards he worked for the Revolutionary Tribunal. So he might well have had reason one day to write out the name Louis de Leaume, adding after it, “Condemned to death by guillotine.”

When Bonaparte was proclaimed emperor, Honoré de Nolant became an imperialist and denounced the partisans of the Republic. He had gathered many contacts during his time as part of Louis XVI’s entourage, and then amongst the higher revolutionary echelons. Which was why Fouche, when he was head of the civilian police, decided to take him into his ministry where apparently he was very useful. He helped put together dossiers on the royalists, on revolutionaries and on republicans who were opposed to the Emperor. But in January 1810 people started to suspect that he was embezzling money. Honoré de Nolant immediately disappeared -from one day to the next! The police realised he had been making fools of them. He had claimed to have numerous informants who would only deal with him. But most of them did not actually exist and Nolant simply kept the sums he was supposed to pay over to them for himself. In exchange for the money, he invented republican plots, assassination plans ... it was all hot air. Expensive with it. The civilian police hate him.'

‘He can’t have walked away empty-handed, and I’m not only referring to money. He must have joined the Swords of the King complete with dossiers of information. That’s why he was accepted onto the committee! He’s the reason they are so well informed. Thanks to him they continually avoid detection by the police! He must have given them the names of the investigators in charge of tracking royalist organisations, and the names of their informers ... Perhaps he still has friends in the Ministry of Civilian Police, who continue to keep him informed. Now I understand why Joseph and Talleyrand chose me. It’s because I have nothing at all to do with any of the imperial police forces.’

‘That’s all I have on Honoré de Nolant.’

‘The group must be suspicious of him. They make him pay for his treachery by giving him the dirty jobs. He’s obliged to prove his loyalty by spilling blood. He’s a professional traitor: a royalist, a revolutionary, a republican, an imperialist and then a royalist again ... It must have been he who realised that the best way to disrupt the defence of Paris would be to murder those in charge. He understood the situation from the inside. He must have been the

one to suggest Colonel Berle! So at the very least, he was an accomplice to the crime!’

‘Calm down ... you’re in a state!’

‘At least the others are following an ideology. Even Charles de Varencourt is loyal to his passion for gambling. But Honoré de Nolant...’

‘If he’s arrested, the police will hang him. Unless the army has him shot before that.’

‘I can’t see any connection between him and fire.’

They reached the summit of Montmartre and Paris stretched out before them. Louis XIV had stamped his mark on the city with his grandiose architectural schemes: the golden dome of the Invalides shimmered like a second sun – sparking off dreams that were immediately quenched by fear – Place Vendome ... Napoleon had done the same, to tell the world that he was as great as the Sun King: with the column in Place Vendome, the Arc de Triomphe still under construction, the Eglise de la Madeleine imitating a Greco-Roman temple, the opening up of Rue de Rivoli, the bridges of

Austerlitz, lena and des Arts ... Paris was starting to look like a vast chessboard on which the rich accumulated palaces and other playthings like so many sumptuous pawns.

‘And finally, there’s Jean-Baptiste de Chatel. He was born in 1766,

to a noble family from Orleans. He entered the Cistercian Abbey of

Pagemont in the Loiret at an early age. He wasn’t like you: he really

wanted to become a monk. But he soon got himself expelled by

the Abbey, discreetly, on the pretext of ill health, because the

Church wanted to avoid a scandal. Why do you think he did that?’

‘I spent four years in an abbey and you’re asking me why? I could

talk all day on that subject! Because he wanted to see the world,

because he had fallen in love, because he wanted to have children,

because he was attracted to women, or men, or he’d lost his faith »

‘No, it wasn’t any of those things. It was because he wanted to reform everything: the running order of Mass, the ordination of priests, the functioning of the Vatican ...’

‘A reformer?’

‘Yes, but a conservative reformer. He found the other monks didn’t pray devoutly enough to God and that Pope Pius VI and Louis XVI were too moderate.’

Margont shook his head, incredulous.

‘Pius VI, too moderate? You mean that Jean-Baptiste de Chatel was more royalist than the King and more Catholic than the Pope? How is that possible?’

‘Well, here’s an example. He wanted to ban all religions other than Catholicism.’

‘Wonderful! He wanted to ignite religious wars! What else?’

‘He was adamant that atheism should also be banned, and that education could only be provided by priests; he campaigned for renewed crusades to liberate Jerusalem.’

‘Oh, so that’s why the other members refer to him as “the crusader”. He’s a bigot!’

‘In 1791 he was keen to escape revolutionary France and considered the French clergy were too soft, so he went to Spain. He made an impressive start there: he was admitted to the Abbey of

Aljanfe, near Madrid, where he became the heir apparent to the abbot. In fact, many of the Spanish clergy shared his views that the French religious community was too moderate. His intransigent sermons were very appealing.’

‘But I wager he rapidly overtook even the most fanatical Spanish.’ ‘Fie did indeed. In Spain, you don’t take liberties with Catholicism, and in 1797 he was imprisoned by the Inquisition, accused of heresy because some of his interpretations of the Bible diverged from dogma. For example, he stirred up controversy about Christ’s poverty. According to the Bible, Christ had no personal or shared possessions. And it follows from this that the Catholic Church should also take a vow of poverty.’

‘That’s a long-standing debate that worries the Catholic Church a great deal. In the Middle Ages, Franciscans were frequently burnt at the stake merely for raising the question.’

‘His trial lasted three years.’

‘That’s incredible!’

‘It’s because he defended himself so vigorously. He used his

theological knowledge to confound the Inquisitors, he contested every point and argued ceaselessly. He kept going back to what he called the original Bible – that’s to say the most ancient texts in old Hebrew, in Aramaic and Ancient Greek – and referring to what he considered translation errors.’

Margont was astounded. He himself was quite capable of insolence – it was a typically revolutionary characteristic – and so he was always impressed when he heard about someone even more daring than he.

He said, as much to himself as to Lefine, ‘So in fact, he was saying to the Inquisitors – the most fanatical of fanatics – that they had the wrong Bible and he had the correct one, so he was the only man on earth to have access to the word of God.’

‘I would have loved to see that! And because inquisitorial trials are scrupulously recorded, the Inquisitors were obliged to answer him. Besides, Chatel drew attention to the irregularities in his trial. He knew all about inquisitorial proceedings because he believed that the Inquisition should be re-established in all countries.

During his time at the Abbey of Pagemont, he had worked on updating the proceedings – although no one had asked him to. Apparently he was already assuming that he would be the new inquisitor general of France.’

‘But where did he find the time? Monks are busy all day long: praying, listening to sermons in the chapterhouse, working, praying again, reading the Holy Scriptures, listening to the word of God ... They rarely have even short periods of free time.’

‘It doesn’t say in police reports how he found time.’

‘He must have done it at night...’

‘At the end of the trial the Spanish Inquisition condemned him to death. But the sentence was commuted to life imprisonment after an appeal was made to the newly elected pope, Pius VII. Chatel rotted in a Madrid gaol, dying a slow death while reading the Bible the Inquisitors were happy to let him have. It was Napoleon who eventually saved his life in 1808 when he suppressed the Inquisition after he besieged Spain.’

‘Chatel wasn’t very grateful. He thinks the Emperor is the

Antichrist. I thought he was joking when he said that, but now I’m sure that everything he said he meant literally.’

The police lost track of him after he was freed, and I haven’t been able to do much better. He only reappeared in 1813, in Paris, as a member of the Swords of the King. I can’t see any link between him and fire either.’

‘He doesn’t get on with Louis de Leaume. He can’t accept anyone’s authority, so he’s uncontrollable. I think even waging a campaign of murders would be too mild for him. What are his real aims, I wonder.’ Margont was lost in thought for a moment. They all have lives that reflect the period we’re living through: turbulent, full of confusion, contradictions and periods of wandering ... And we all believed that after the Revolution, everything would get better ... What do you know about the other members who aren’t on the committee?’

‘Not very much. They are a mixed bunch: monarchists, rabid believers whom Jean-Baptiste de Chatel convinced to join the Swords of the King with his sermons, refugees from other

dismantled royalist groups ... The biggest group are opportunists who’ve become royalists because they can see the tide is turning.’ ‘What did Charles de Varencourt really tell Joseph’s agents?’ There’s a whole police report on the subject. Very little on the committee members, because he claims they all keep their life stories to themselves. He only supplied new information on Vicomte de Leaume, whom he said had spent at least two years in England, living with friends in the Strand, the heart of the French royalist community. Paradoxically, what Varencourt really gave away was himself. The police had managed to identify all the members of the group – except him! Varencourt had believed that they already knew about him before he betrayed himself, but it wasn’t true.’ That was clever of him!’

‘He confirmed what the police already suspected – that the Swords of the King were planning to foment a popular uprising in favour of Louis XVIII.’

‘It’s a fashionable idea. Especially amongst monarchists. A bloodless revolution that would sweep away the republican-inspired

empire and restore the King. A sort of inverted Revolution, which would overturn all that the revolutionaries had put in place. Although that seems to me pie in the sky, just a way of refusing to face reality.’

‘And the group’s emblem. There again the police had their suspicions. The white cockade is deemed too popular by aristocrats, so the secret royalist societies like to develop their own devices of recognition. But Charles de Varencourt gave a detailed description of their emblem. And finally he revealed their proposed campaign of assassinations. But you’ll be furious when I tell you that although Varencourt supplied a list of eleven victims, Natai didn’t give it to me. He told me that his superiors were adamant that you shouldn’t discuss it with Varencourt.’

Margont managed not to lose his temper. ‘What?’

‘Look, it’s not surprising if you think about it. Joseph must judge that it's not necessary for your investigation and he wants to limit the risk of the list of names circulating ... especially if his is on it! Right, that completes my report/

Thanks, Fernand! Your help is invaluable! Try to continue finding out more about our suspects. The first one of us who has something new should get in contact with the other.’

Lefine left. Margont stayed for a while, lying on the grass at the foot of one of the windmills, enjoying the gentle breeze and looking out across Paris.

When he went into his room Margont noticed that it had been searched. He was always careful before he went out to put some of his possessions in designated places. Some of these had been moved. His books were no longer piled up in the same order as he had left them; his mattress was touching the wall, although he had left a small gap. The intruder had been very careful and nothing had been stolen, so without these little indicators Margont would not have noticed anything. And the more he thought about it, the less sure he became ... Had his books and mattress really been moved? He could not ask his landlord, who, even had he noticed anything, would have denied seeing anyone enter. He ran his hand over the pile of books, trying to prove to himself that their arrangement felt different since his meeting with Lefine. He often believed he was being followed when he was outside. By one of the Swords of the King? By a policeman who took him for a royalist? Or maybe someone with personal motives? He could not tell if he was imagining it all.

He hurried over to his chest. He had hammered a little nail inside it, right at the bottom, on the left, and had attached a thread to it. Before leaving, he always took the thread out of the chest and attached it to a notch on the lid. Once he was back he would untie it. This time the thread had been broken. So someone really had ^rummaged through his room. He felt strangely comforted by the knowledge – he was not losing his mind. Not yet anyway ... His grip on reality seemed to be hanging by that thread.

CHAPTER 14

IT was 21 March and Napoleon was surveying the Bohemian army under the command of Generalissimo Schwarzenberg, from the heights of the plateau south of Arcis-sur-Aube. The Emperor blinked, incredulous. He had defeated the Allies over and over again, and this was the result! Those massed ranks blanketing the horizon. A hundred thousand men at the very least. Divisions, methodically formed into giant rectangles, made up a spider’s web awaiting the attack of the French army. But the latter comprised only thirty thousand soldiers, since some of the troops had been scattered during manoeuvres and battles ... Napoleon had thought the Austro-Russian force was retreating! They had to be retreating. He continued to scour the hordes for signs of disorder, or for movements backwards ...

Finally he reached the inescapable conclusion. It was the French who would have to retreat. But in which direction?

The most obvious solution was to withdraw to Paris, to protect the capital. But what would the Allied armies do then? They would unite into one, having learnt the dangers of operating separately. Schwarzenberg’s Bohemian army would join forces with Marshal Blucher’s Silesian army, and they, reinforced by other diverse troops, would both be joined by the nearest units of Bernadotte’s Army of the North. The French would be ignominiously forced back to Paris ... Several members of the imperial general staff advised retiring to Paris, but only because they could not envisage any other course of action.

Napoleon then took one of the most important decisions of his career. He had been plotting the manoeuvre for several days and had discussed it with his marshals, who, in the main, opposed it. They considered it too complicated and, above all, too risky. But it offered the only possibility of victory, and so that day Napoleon decided to press ahead with it. The French army would not turn back towards Paris; it would go round the Allied army to threaten its rear. The enemy needed vast amounts of supplies to feed and equip such a quantity of troops. And the Emperor was counting on his own prestige. The enemy feared him when he was in front of them, so what general would dare turn his back on him? His tactic would sow panic in the Allied ranks. He wanted to force his enemies to pursue him. He would also be leading them away from Paris, towards the east, where he would rally fresh troops who were stationed in strongholds. But the danger of the tactic was obvious: no one would be defending the road to Paris. It was a gamble, a throw of the dice.