Where politics shows its nose...
Chapter 49: London Truce
London, Thursday the thirteenth August. Ninth day. Late.
London, Friday the fourteenth August. Tenth day. Early morning.
He came.
And with him three of his generals.
He had introduced them and his eyes had lingered on the famous Duroc. He was there perfectly still and looking at him and his generals as if they were snakes he wanted to stomp viciously.
He was quite impressive. Not handsome but impressive. His short red brown hair was curly and unruly.
But what was the most impressive were his eyes. Eyes that really seemed to pierce the people he was looking at.
At d'Arcy's left was Murat. A giant of a man and quite handsome if one liked a smiling moon face.
At his right, another general Kellerman who was probably there because he spoke perfect German and so able to understand what he would say to his private Hanoverian counselors.
So much for that little advantage.
"Thank you for coming."
D'Arcy let a smile light his handsome face.
"At this peculiar moment, seeing you is the best thing that could happen."
"Don't dream, I won't surrender..."
Duroc was immediately on his feet.
"Parfait, on sait ce qu'on voulait savoir et mes gars sont prêts. Laissez-moi raser feu la Capitale de feu l'Empire Britannique...1"
D'Arcy just shook the head and Duroc took his place with a very loud grunt.
"You shouldn't use too many negations, Your Highness. My dear Duroc is a little nervous and quite unhappy that I have held him back these last hours. As he says his men could storm London in a matter of minutes and he's persuaded that we should make an example while you are in Town..."
"V'got a guillotine in luggage," grumbled Duroc in his very bad English while harassing his hat.
D'Arcy didn't loose his smile.
"Old habits never die..."
His eyes were sparkling when he went on.
"Since you won't speak of surrender, why are we here?"
"We could negotiate a Peace Treaty..."
D'Arcy shook his head.
"Sorry, not my field of competence. If you want to discuss a Peace Treaty that's a State to State matter and you need one of the Consuls. As the Proconsul for foreign shores, I can only decide for what's under my authority. And as for now that's Great Britain. And to be even more precise occupied Great Britain..."
The Prince Regent sighed.
"A Truce?"
"Probably," answered d'Arcy. "It depends on what you propose."
He raised a hand before his opponent could speak.
"But let's be very clear, I don't yet occupy the whole of Great Britain but I will, for the sake of these negotiations, consider that my armies are already in possession of the whole island, Wales and Scotland included. You have nothing to prevent my forces taking it. Your only hope would be a general levy and you know as well as I what would happen if you sent green soldiers with too few weapons and too little training against my veterans. It would be a butcher's work and the butcher's toll would be immeasurable."
His smile disappeared.
"You could choose that path to push your population into unrest and revenge. But let's, once more, be very clear, I will do what's in my power to avoid such a fate."
He pointed toward Duroc.
"If I feel that that's what you want I'll give him free reign to get you..."
"Yeah..." rumbled Duroc showing that if he had an awful accent he had quite a good understanding of the language.
The Prince Regent made a face. He knew what was Duroc's role in these negotiation but that didn't mean that he would not be as bloodthirsty as he was showing it...
"...And even if you should muster a levy, I'll do everything to convince them that they are sacrificial lambs, pushed under the grinding stone for political reasons. And I will give them all the opportunities to desert before I kill them. I will lose time but I won't give you the satisfaction to destroy all my efforts to preserve civilian life and private property..."
The Prince of Wales could only shake his head in denial.
"I'm no fool, monsieur d'Arcy. I know where I stand and what are my possibilities. I also know that calling the mustering of a levy would manipulate the population into your hands. If I call them to arms in such a situation with my popularity they will refuse to answer since I no longer have the army to force them..."
"You could in London..."
"It would be the decision to trigger the Revolution you would like..."
d'Arcy shook his head.
"You misjudge me, Your Highness. I'm not interested in a Revolution. I'm interested in a smooth evolution with a quiet and, if possible bloodless, change of government..."
"What about the deported gentry and priests?"
d'Arcy frowned.
"What about them?"
"Will you go on with your deportation practices?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Because it could be part of the Truce to let them remain at home..."
"Why would I make that extraordinary concession? I don't deport these people because I like to separate families but because I deem it necessary. I do believe that they would be the leaders of dozens of resistance cells I would never be able to crush." He shook his head. "I would be forced to maintain five armies in Great Britain just to have peace on the roads. And even those would only be secure in daylight. The night would still belong to the rebels..."
He sighed.
"I have spent twelve years in the Chinese Empire. I know what to do to secure the peace in a conquered land. Deprive the people of their leaders and let new ones emerge. And if I have my saying those leaders will be people who have understood that the new regime brings more than the old..." He looked at his opponent.
"You know when was the only moment the Son of Heavens did not deport –or more often kill-- the elite of a conquered land?"
The Prince Regent could only shake his head. The History of Britain had never interested him. What happened in the rest of the world left him even more indifferent.
"When he had given said land to a new Lord and ordered him to pacify it. Just to see if that new Lord had the guts to do what was necessary to build his nest in other peoples homes..."
d'Arcy shook once more his head.
"I refuse to do it that way. It's much easier for everybody –even the deportees-- to just exile the people who could be dangerous. There will be rebels and freedom fighters but fewer than if I let the Gentry go back where they could do what they wanted. And there's a truth which will stand as long as mankind is ruled by egoism: what happens to the other doesn't matter as long as it does not touch me... And since there are fewer members of the Gentry than other people, deporting them will stir much less trouble than crushing down a general rebellion. Not to discount the general and common pleasure to see the once rich and mighty having been pushed from their pedestals."
The Prince Regent sighed.
"We could compromise on the members of the Clergy... The archbishop of Canterbury is presently in Town and he would be very glad to have a word with you. I didn't include him in our little meeting." He stopped and looked at d'Arcy. "Yet! But he's not very far. We could, with your authorization, invite him to be part of the negotiation..."
d'Arcy shut his eyes a few seconds.
"If you want to include him, I won't vote against. But I'm not sure he will be able to change my mind. My opinion of most members of the Clergy is not the best. I've seen members of perhaps two dozens clergies and the only one who gave me confidence in God's existence was the Buddhist Clergy. And then, even there I saw such who would profit..."
He waved with his hand.
"If you want him to take part, don't hesitate longer, call him. I had already decided to meet him. Why not save me a journey to Canterbury."
Two minutes later, the archbishop of Canterbury was greeted by everyone, even Duroc who was able to muster the old man as if if was the candidate for his next hanging.
"Your Grace," said d'Arcy while looking at his new opponent. "What can I do for you..."
"You could give me back my shepherds..."
d'Arcy made a face.
"People are not cattle, Your Grace. They think and they have their own opinions. They don't need shepherds, they need honest and trustworthy leaders. I can't accept that never-ending necessity to consider them as children or animals..."
He leaned forward.
"And each human being has the right to believe or not to believe. I hate intolerance and there's no better ground for harvesting intolerant fanatics than some clergies. I spent a few months in Egypt you wouldn't imagine how much hate there is between the Chii clergy and the Sunnii Muslim and they believe in exactly the same sentences that God is considered to have given to the sole religious leader they both acknowledge..."
He shook his head.
"In my eyes, religions have lost all credibility."
"But you spoke of tolerance, monsieur d'Arcy. Most of the people in Great Britain follow the word of the Church of England. Even the woman you court is from our faith. Would she be wrong?"
That brought a smile on d'Arcy's face.
A smile that climbed to his eyes and ended in a whole hearted laugh.
"That's brilliant, Your Grace. Indeed Jane Bennet believes and follows the teachings of the Church of England and I won't try to convince her to change. I will even accept that she raise our children in that faith... As children they need advice and directions, but I will allow them the ultimate choice. If, after having been raised and taught in the Anglican faith they should decide to change, even to atheism, I won't hinder them..."
The archbishop smiled back.
"Most people are simple people, they need advice and direction as if they were children. Most don't have the instruction you'll give your children in order to let them choose."
d'Arcy shook his head.
"That won't be true very much longer, Your Grace. We will engage teachers and we will create schools in every important village. We will lessen the burden of taxes on the common people in order to give them the possibility to let their children go at least five years to school. And the school will be our instrument of bringing them into the mold of the Republic. They will have other advisers than the village priest or the local lord's manager..."
"You spoke of choice, monsieur d'Arcy. If there's only your state teacher left, what choice will they have? Wouldn't it be better to give them the means to choose in the perfect knowledge of what they could gain on either path?"
"I would be undoubtedly better, Your Grace, but if I free your pastors you'll have months if not years in advance to persuade the people that our teachers will only bring nefarious effects to their lives and they won't send their children..."
"We could be allies, monsieur d'Arcy..."
"Allies? Let me remind you of who's the head of the Church of England... Do you really believe a State and a Nation can accept that a foreign ruler has on its soil thousands and thousands of agents who could very well stir up the general misgiving of the population..."
"I had not forgotten, monsieur d'Arcy. But there's a precedent there. Our church is implanted in our late colonies and there we found a way to be accepted by the new rulers..."
d'Arcy frowned.
"Are you just doing what I suspect you of doing?"
The archbishop shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know what you suspect, monsieur d'Arcy but you must understand my position. I'll have, if you conclude you invasion as I believe it will end, thousand of members of my Clergy who will be either deported or on the run. All our possessions will probably have been confiscated and sold to members of the French ruling class. What your invasion really means for the Church of England is nothing less than her disappearance. And I won't accept that without looking for an exit. And if that exit is a change of the power structure of the Church, I'll choose that!"
d'Arcy looked at the Prince Regent.
"You knew of that issue?"
The Prince regent nodded.
"We spoke about it this morning!" He sighed. "We all know why the King of England has been chosen to be the head of the Church. That problem is now without any importance. Even more since our Hanoverian dynasty comes from another protestant faith and has always looked at that 'Head of Church" business with a little unease. We could accept to cease to be the head of the Church if that could mean the end of the deportation for the Church's Clergy."
d'Arcy looked at both his opposites.
"And I suppose you have already a power structure to propose?"
The archbishop smiled.
"Indeed, we have even more than one. And we would accept either of them if one would find your approbation..."
d'Arcy nodded.
"Alright, let's see what you propose..."
Five hours later the Church of England had another Head in the person of the current Archbishop of Canterbury and the Proconsul d'Arcy, as Head of the Government of Great Britain, the right to nominate the Archbishop, to propose candidates for the Church's positions and to impeach any priest of the Church be it in a Parrish or a Bishopric.
After all parties had signed d'Arcy gave the document to his Adjutant.
"All Clergymen I deem acceptable will be released within the next few days and brought back to their Parishes."
"You deem acceptable?" asked the Archbishop.
"I was very well prepared in order to succeed on more levels than just the military one. I know all the Priests who would be a problem for me and my men. They are not very numerous but they would be sufficient to stir the people in certain counties. These won't go back! You'll have the list of Parishes who will be free for new candidates... Since I have the possibility to impeach nominated Priests, I'll make you my Proxy for these nominations. I hope my confidence has been well placed..."
The Archbishop nodded.
"I'll be vigilant on the 'tolerance' level of my new priests..."
"That would be a very good beginning, Your Grace."
"Well," said d'Arcy after the Archbishop's departure. "You just lost your status as Head of the Church of England, we could perhaps go on? You surrender and give me the Crown of England and I even let you go home with what's left of your Army to your Hanoverian Duchy... It should be enough to convince Napoleon that you are a nut too tough to crack..."
"The Crown is not mine to give..."
"And the Church was?"
The Prince Regent smiled.
"No, but then the real head of the Church was there and was obviously interested in the bargain. That should suffice to convince my father who never liked being, as he said, 'General of Priests'. On the contrary, he really enjoyed his status as King of England and Great Britain..."
d'Arcy smiled back.
"And you still hope to get it for you one day in the future..."
The Prince nodded.
"Indeed, monsieur d'Arcy. I do..." He sniffed loudly. "I'm not a good student of History but for evident reasons I was very interested in what was happening in France these last twelve years. And from what I saw I do not believe your Napoleon will be the ruler of France for more than a few years."
He looked at d'Arcy with smiling eyes.
"He has too many and too powerful friends who have their own agendas... I, for my part, will be there for many years to come."
"That could change in matter of days..."
The Prince shook his head.
"No, monsieur d'Arcy, it won't. You're an ambitious man but from your strategic movements and because of what you said to me, I'm sure you don't want to do another regicide. My survival is a part of your plan. And knowing that, I'm rather confident that we will strike a bargain today..."
"Plans can be changed..."
The Prince nodded to this affirmation.
"I don't doubt it, but I don't believe you are ready to change them... You've invested too much in them until now and, last but not least, you have new -personal- reasons not to change them. And I'm egoistically going to abuse you of all those reasons to get the best deal possible..."
"I won't be easy..."
"Where would be the fun of it, if you were? But I have seen you negotiate with the Archbishop, monsieur d'Arcy, it gave me interesting details on the way you think. I'll do my best to get more than the Archbishop."
d'Arcy's smile was back.
"Let's begin, than..."
Late in the Night d'Arcy and his officers were mounting their horses...
"That went well" said Duroc. "You got what you wanted..."
"We both got what we wanted," answered d'Arcy. He smiled at his general.
"You were perfect today..."
Duroc smiled impishly.
"You know I love to play that role. It comes so naturally with my bulk. Most people believe a man of my features can only be a bully and a brute..."
"And you play it like a master comedian... I'm not sure it helped in the negotiations but his generals were quite subdued."
"They were never a problem. They no longer have the fighting spirit in them. They just wanted to run and hide. And that's what they got..."
"Indeed, Duroc, that's what they got!"
At this moment d'Arcy's private secretary came running out of the Palace.
He had a bundle of letters in his hand and he showed them to his boss who took them, looked at them and smiled.
"He signed them himself..." said his secretary. "Said 'à tout Seigneur, tout Honneur'..."
d'Arcy's smile increased.
"Himself? It's even better than I hoped." He took the bundle and put it in his jacket pocket.
"Now, since we have everything we needed, let's go North. There's a wedding that awaits me..."
His secretary made big eyes.
"Now? It's long past Midnight..."
"And? I'm not interested in sleep, Benevento. I believe I could ride without a stop just to look into her eyes..."
"But I'm interested in your survival," countered the Secretary. "Your bed is ready and I'll wake you at first light. We have horses waiting every fifty miles. To be in time, you don't need riding now but to arrive, we need you in good health..."
He made a face and his eyes sparkled.
"And I'm sure she would prefer to get you on your feet and walking than broken on a litter..."
d'Arcy nodded. It was perhaps time to remember that he was no longer a teenager even if he felt like one.
"Perhaps you are right..." sighed he. "First light, then..."
"First light, sir..."
1 / That's it, we have our answer and my boys are ready! Let's go and raze the late Capital of the late British Empire...
Next chapter: Pemberley Doubts