STUDIES IN THE NAPOLEONIC WARS 054
A Proposal for a Royal Rescue
8. Tales of Secret Service (15)
A Proposal for a Royal Rescue
Kolli, whoever he was, slipped across from Holland to Flushing while the British expedition to Walcheren still lay on the Scheldt, in November 1809. According to his own narrative he had the audacity to board a small Dutch smuggling lugger, and—though accompanied by only one friend—to bluff the smuggler into risking his craft, by running out to sea into Sir Richard Strachan’s blockading squadron. In December he reached London, and broached his scheme to Lord Wellesley, who had succeeded Canning at the Foreign Office a few weeks before.
The idea was that it might be possible to rescue King Ferdinand from his enforced leisure at Valençay, where (under the nominal care of Talleyrand) he was kept in a somewhat loose captivity, surrounded by a small court of his friends and retainers, and without a military guard. Napoleon’s reasons for taking so little precaution with his captive were twofold. The first was that Valençay was so deep in the heart of France that an attempt to escape from it was considered impracticable. The second, and not the less cogent, was that he had taken his estimate of the captive King at Bayonne, and judged him so sluggish, destitute of initiative, and cowed in spirit, that he would refuse to take any personal risk if the chance of a rescue was offered him.
The event seemed to justify this view; but (as we shall see) the question arises whether Ferdinand was or was not aware that, when the offer came, it was not from a real friend, but from an impostor, who had got possession of the credentials of the true emissary and was being utilized by Fouché. This psychological problem has served as the main thesis of a very clever novel—The King’s Revoke—by Mrs. Woods, in which the decision is given against Ferdinand, and he is made from mere cowardice to betray the would-be saviour, under the impression that the latter was a genuine but rash votary of legitimism. Incidentally this novel gives a very amusing picture of the personage “Count d’Haggerty “who represents Kolli, and makes him sufficiently absurd, though not precisely on the lines displayed in the little book in which the Baron tells his story.
Whether the escape of Ferdinand would, or would not, have been profitable to the cause of Spain and of England may be considered a doubtful point. The English Government was profoundly disgusted with the way in which the Supreme Junta at Seville was mismanaging the war. And the appearance of the King would certainly take power out of the hands of that quarrelsome, suspicious, and perverse body. On the other hand, Ferdinand was almost an unknown quantity at the time, and what little was known of him tended to show that he was obstinate, secretive, and false. But he must, unless he were infra- or superhuman, be the bitter enemy of Napoleon, after what had happened to him at Bayonne.
And it was quite true that a rancorous hatred of his captor was his main inspiring thought all through the years of his imprisonment, though he tried to veil it by writing occasional letters of fulsome compliment to the Emperor, when he had some small boon to crave. There was no chance that he could come to an agreement with Napoleon; for the latter had made all compromises impossible, by setting up his brother Joseph as King of Spain. Therefore it was judged in London that it would be profitable, rather than the reverse, if Ferdinand were released and took up the reins of power. His name still roused frantic loyalty in every patriotic Spanish breast, and he might count on being obeyed as the Junta never could be.
On the whole the Foreign Office was prepared to give Baron Kolli a chance—his self-confidence was infectious, his plan apparently feasible, and his demands moderate. He only asked to be landed on the Breton coast, to be given a sum of £10,000 to work his scheme, and to be put in touch with the remnants of the old Royalist party who still lurked in France, professing submission to Napoleon but ready to give secret aid against him.
The Baron changed the order on the Treasury for £10,000 into a corresponding value of unset diamonds, holding that it would be impossible to display English gold or bank-notes in France, while precious stones could be sold or pledged easily at Paris to jewellers or financiers, of whom the names of several were given him. All the cash that he took was a few score Napoleons for his initial expenses.
But his papers were more important in a well-policed country like France during the regime of Fouché. Not only passports but all sorts of confirmatory documents would be necessary for the adventure. Kolli had made for him all sorts of way-bills, orders, and correspondence on official paper; for his daring alias was to be that of a colonel of gendarmerie on a secret mission to report on anti-smuggling precautions. He had a complete and correct uniform made for him, a forged commission from Paris, and a schedule of places to be visited, and of notes upon the changes recommendable in each of them.
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