Fire and Sword

Chapter 53

Arthur

Dublin, January 1809

Even when the news reached Ireland that the senior officer of the British army, the Duke of York, had signed the report on the Cintra treaty, Arthur did not feel remotely like celebrating. He had come out of the affair somewhat better than either Burrard or Dalrymple. Those senior officers in the know at Horse Guards would ensure that the two generals were steered away from further field commands. Arthur had proved his ability to command at Vimeiro, and his services would be required again one day. He just hoped that the day would not be too long in coming. However high his stock with senior officers, he knew that his chief difficulty was that politicians have enduring memories, and it was likely that his enemies would protest if he was given a new command too soon.

Such a delay was a depressing prospect. Partly because he felt the injured pride of the wrongly accused, but mostly because he was honest enough to admit to himself that he was one of the most capable generals in the army. By rights his talents should be utilised in frustrating the enemy. Instead, it was he who was frustrated, and he regarded those who controlled Britain’s political affairs with steadily growing cynicism.

Kitty and the two boys bore the brunt of his ill humour, which tended to manifest itself in a brooding silence and coldness to those closest to him. At first Kitty tried treating him with a forced cheerfulness and insistence on the most trivial of conversations in the hope that it might lift his spirits. But the harder she tried the more terse he seemed to become, and in the end she fell to matching his silences with her own.The long winter evenings of the first months of the year crept by under a cloud of mutual frustration and neglect.

Arthur’s mood was not helped by the steady flow of bad news from London. The evacuation of the British army from Corunna and the death of General Moore had struck at the very core of the nation’s morale. Then came word of a scandal involving the Duke of York. A former mistress of the Duke, Mary Anne Clarke, had revealed that she had been trading her sexual favours for army commissions and promotions, which she had sold on at a tidy profit.

‘Rubbish!’ Arthur growled as he tossed the newspaper down on the dining table. Night had fallen and he had been reading about the scandal after the dessert had been cleared away.

Kitty looked up from her coffee, licked her lips and asked, ‘What is rubbish, my dear?’

‘The allegations made by the Clarke woman, of course. Damn lies, all of it!’

Kitty had read the newspaper before Arthur had returned from his office at the castle. She took another sip of coffee before responding in a measured tone, ‘It seems to me that her claims have some truth to them, and others corroborate what she says.’

Arthur frowned.‘I accept that she was selling offices on, but I cannot believe that the Duke of York can have been aware of it.’

‘Why not?’

‘Why not?’ Arthur asked in an astonished tone. ‘He is the highest-ranking army officer in the country.A royal.Why would he take the risk of exposing himself to such a scandal? It makes no sense.’

Kitty shrugged. ‘He would not be the first man in high office to fall from grace because of a woman.The Duke should have known better.’

‘But that is my point. She must have been selling the offices behind his back. Otherwise he would have known about it and dropped her at once.’

‘Yes, that would make sense.’

‘He is an honourable man,’ Arthur insisted. ‘I cannot believe he would be involved in such corruption.’

‘Yet you accept that the Clarke woman was his mistress.’ Kitty looked down into her coffee.‘It seems to me that if the Duke is capable of taking a mistress, who is to say that his immorality does not extend further?’

‘Taking a mistress is one thing, Kitty. Taking liberties with one’s office is quite another.’

‘Both are immoral,’ she replied. ‘It is not what good people do.’

Arthur shook his head. ‘Half the men in Parliament have mistresses. It is hardly uncommon. Yet they balance their physical needs with integrity in public office.’

‘Really? And what about you, Arthur?’

He glared at her, lips pressed tightly together. In the bleak months since his return from Portugal he had visited a discreet club called the Game of Hearts on several occasions, and been entertained by Harriette Wilson. She had been good in bed, but he rather feared that his would be another name she bandied about in due course. He hoped that Kitty would not find out, and be hurt, yet at the same time he could not help wanting something more diverting than the stilted sex available at home. He was silent for a moment, and then said, ‘My conscience is clear, and I’ll thank you not to ask me that again.’

Kitty set her cup down with a sharp rap and folded her hands together. ‘I ask it because of the way you are presently treating me, Arthur. I am your wife, yet you hardly ever speak to me. Never take any interest in me or my opinions. Lately, you have barely even acknowledged your children. Under such circumstances can you wonder if I should fear that you are seeking affection elsewhere?’

He pushed back his chair and rose to his feet.‘I will not discuss such accusations, Kitty, do you hear? And you are quite wrong about the Duke of York, as you shall see.’

Without another look at her, he left the room and retired to his private study. Pouring himself a large glass of port, he dropped into his chair and stared at the small pile of official papers and letters he had brought home with him from the castle. Almost all the latter were fresh requests for patronage, some specifically requesting positions that entailed few actual duties so that the incumbent could be assured of an income without the inconvenience of having to work for it. Arthur scowled at the papers for a moment and then took a hefty swig. The country was at war, and while every resource should be dedicated to providing the means to secure victory over France it seemed that many of his countrymen still placed selfishness above service to the nation. The situation was even worse in Parliament, where political factions spent their energies scoring points over each other, regardless of the wider peril that threatened to engulf Britain.

And now this business with the Duke of York. Arthur shook his head.Whatever the Duke might have done, he had a first rate talent for administration and making sure that his country fielded the best trained and equipped army in Europe. If the scandal that embroiled him was not quashed, Britain might very well end up deprived of his services. Simply because Mary Anne Clarke had decided to take her revenge on him for ending their affair. No doubt she was also being rewarded for her accusations by some Whig politician. At present the Whigs were spoiling for peace with France. Peace at almost any price.

It was madness, Arthur reflected. Bonaparte did not strike him as the kind of man who placed a premium on peace.The French Emperor was a soldier through and through and the conquest of nations and the subjugation of people had become his obsession. But then, Arthur wondered, did he himself not share something of that taste for war? He never felt so complete as when he commanded men on campaign. Gone were the duplicities of politics, the pretensions of London society and the endless ennui of domestic compromises that had come to define his life with Kitty.

As soon as the last thought entered his head the bitter taste of shame and betrayal soured his soul and he despised himself. He finished his port and set the glass down sharply on the table. His country needed him in the war against Bonaparte. He must embrace his true calling and return to the army.The longer he stayed in his present post, and partook of the slow poison of politics, the less chance he would have of serving his country in uniform. Now that the Cintra inquiry had cleared him, he must seek a new appointment in the army as swiftly as possible.

The next morning, Arthur strode purposefully to his office. Cancelling his morning appointments, he settled down in front of a sheet of paper and began to draft a letter to Castlereagh.

My lord, it appears to me that the war with France is swiftly approaching the point where the term crisis might be employed. The present scandal afflicting his grace, the Duke of York, and the recent ejection of our army from Spain, have caused public support for the continuation of the conflict to wither. Unless his majesty’s government is resolved to continue direct confrontation of enemy land forces we cannot expect the nation to endure a state of war for much longer.Therefore, we must take it upon ourselves to overcome the French army in the field and prove, again and again, that the French can be beaten. Every victory we gain will sound through the rest of Europe like a rallying cry.

The French are intent on completing their conquest of the Peninsula by subduing Portugal, so that is where we may fight them. I have always been of the opinion that Portugal could be defended whatever might be the result of the contest in Spain. Once we have beaten off the French attacks we could then go on the offensive and drive them completely out of Portugal. At that point it may even be possible to extend the campaign into Spain.

Arthur paused, and thought over the requirements of his plan. If he suggested too few men, Castlereagh might deem the whole enterprise to be doomed from the start. If he requested too many Castlereagh would have a hard time convincing the rest of the Cabinet to undertake such a campaign when resources were already stretched. Arthur dipped his pen in the inkwell and continued.

In order for this project to succeed, the British army in Portugal must number at least twenty thousand, with four thousand of those being cavalry.The Portuguese army will also need to be equipped and trained from the British purse. Furthermore, we will depend upon the continued resistance of the Spanish in order to deny the French the chance to concentrate their forces against us.

Lowering his pen, Arthur read over his words and then puffed out a sigh. The next section was going to be the most challenging item for Castlereagh to accept, but there was no avoiding the recommendation. Arthur again set his pen to the paper.

Concerning the question of who should be placed in command of such an expedition, I shall make no resort to false modesty. It is my unshakable conviction that I have both the ambition and the necessary ability to best ensure our success in Portugal. I have already demonstrated the superiority of our men over the enemy at Roliça and Vimeiro. I have the confidence of our men and had garnered enough experience of campaigning in inhospitable terrain to give our forces the best chance of victory.

It was a bold claim, boldly expressed, but Arthur did not think that a word of it was unjustified. Besides, when he considered the other possible candidates for such a command, none matched his achievements. Of those who might have rivalled him for the command, Moore was dead and Baird had been severely wounded at Corunna.

Satisfied that Castlereagh knew him well enough to know that in such matters he would give honest recommendations, Arthur set his introductory note to one side and began working on a far more detailed memorandum concerning every aspect of the suggested campaign. He worked on through the day, and then, as dusk settled across Dublin, he called for a secretary and instructed him to write up the entire document in a fair hand, ready for despatch to London aboard the first available mail vessel.

While he waited for a response from the War Secretary, Arthur sadly continued to follow the news of the growing scandal that was engulfing the Duke of York. As more details dripped out it became clear that the Duke had been aware of the improprieties of his lover. Even Arthur had to admit that there must be a minimum standard of morality observed by those who claimed high public office. In the end, the Duke felt forced to resign, and was replaced by Sir David Dundas as commander-in-chief of the army. Even before that had occurred, a fresh scandal, much closer to Arthur, had gripped the attention of London society.

Lady Charlotte Wellesley, the wife of Arthur’s younger brother Henry, had eloped. She had left her husband for her lover, Henry Paget. As soon as he heard the news, Arthur travelled to London. Naturally he wanted to support his brother, but that was not the only thing on his mind as he arrived in the capital.

‘You make a very persuasive case.’ Castlereagh nodded towards Arthur’s lengthy letter, lying on his desk. ‘Frankly it is exactly the kind of farsighted strategic vision that the Cabinet needed to consider.’

‘You shared it with the Cabinet?’ Arthur responded anxiously. Even though the Tories were in power there were still enough enemies of the Wellesleys within the Cabinet to undermine his suggestions and ensure that they were not given a wider circulation.‘Was that wise, if you don’t mind my asking?’

Castlereagh smiled at him.‘You don’t imagine I occupy this office by virtue of my naivety, do you? I withheld your name, as well as your claim to the job, until after the memorandum had been discussed. I passed it off as the work of a subordinate connected with my office. It took a while before I managed to convince them of the sagacity of your proposals, which was not easy, I can assure you. There are still some ministers who are wedded to the notion of only intervening in far-flung colonies, picking off French territories one at a time. I told them that if we pursued such a strategy it would be years, decades even, before it began to harm France.’

‘Quite right.’ Arthur nodded. ‘We must pursue a more direct, more visible, line of attack on the enemy.’

‘They accepted that argument, finally. So, once the plan for Portugal was approved, it only remained to appoint a commander for the army.’ Castlereagh paused and flashed a mischievous smile at Arthur. ‘That was when I mentioned who the author of the memorandum really was. Well, having approved the plan they could hardly not approve your being given the chance to implement it. Besides, I took the precaution of inviting Dundas to the meeting and he was happy to support my recommendation that you be offered the command. Faced with that, there was little scope for protest. And so there we are.’

Arthur stared at the Secretary for War, not quite believing his ears. ‘I am to command the army?’

‘Strictly speaking, I can’t yet.The letter of appointment has yet to be written and sent to you, and then I must await your considered response to the offer. Only then will I be in a position to announce that you will command the army.’ Castlereagh sat back in his chair and opened his hands. ‘Of course, you could save me the trouble of waiting and let me know your answer here and now. Sir Arthur, will you accept the command of the Army of Portugal?’

Arthur grinned. ‘Yes, sir. It would be an honour.’

‘Alas, it is an honour that must be kept secret for the present. You may go about making the necessary preparations, of course. Recruit your aides, settle your affairs in Ireland and so on, but do not breathe a word of your destination. With luck we can have your army ready to march from Lisbon before the French are even aware of the danger.’

‘I understand, sir.’

‘Good.’ Castlereagh’s expression suddenly became deadly serious. ‘Understand this too, Sir Arthur. You will be in command of our country’s sole field army.You must ensure that it does not meet with disaster.After the fate that befell poor John Moore, our countrymen live in dread of another such defeat.You will take no unnecessary risks, and you will confine yourself to the limits of Portuguese territory. On no account are you to cross into Spain without the express permission of his majesty’s government. Is that clear?’

Arthur nodded. ‘Quite clear, sir.’

Castlereagh stood up and held out his hand.‘Then may I be the first to offer my congratulations, General Wellesley. I trust you will cause the enemy as much distress as possible.’

‘You can count on it, sir.’

Even as he left the Horse Guards and marched across the parade ground, his mind was racing with the possibilities of his new command. He had told Castlereagh that Portugal could be defended. He had no doubt of that. But that was just the start. Once Portugal was safe, then the obvious progression would be no less than the liberation of Spain, in the course of which the cream of the French army would endure the same humiliation as had been visited on General Junot at Vimeiro.

Arthur smiled at the thought. Within months, the shadow of Cintra would be lifted and he would finally have enough men, and enough authority, to take the war to the French on his terms.