The Generals r-2

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The Generals r-2 Page 55

by Simon Scarrow


  ‘We’ll see about that,’ Arthur snapped as he pulled on his coat and made for the door. He paused, and turned back. ‘Is there anything to do to treat the illness?’

  ‘The usual treatment is an ointment composed of lard and sulphur.’ Dr Scott pursed his lips. ‘I’ve heard that some of my colleagues have had more success by having their patients bathe in diluted nitric acid.’

  Arthur winced. ‘Sounds painful.’

  ‘It is, sir. But you might want to consider it.’

  ‘I might,’ Arthur muttered as he left the dispensary.

  Now, a few days later, he felt the hot prickle of the blisters chafing against his clothes and it took a great effort to resist the urge to scratch viciously at the irritation. He took a deep breath and entered the office assigned to Baird.There were a number of men present, some of whom Arthur recalled from the day he had assumed control of Seringapatam. One or two of them glanced at him with barely concealed smugness in their expressions. Baird was seated behind a large desk and looked up the moment Arthur closed the door behind him.

  ‘Wellesley. How are you?’

  ‘I’m well, sir.’ Arthur considered asking if Baird’s voyage had been pleasant, but thought better of the impulse, under the circumstances. ‘I take it you received my letter, sir.’

  ‘Yes,’ Baird replied. There was a silence and Arthur braced himself for a harsh dressing down. ‘As far as I am concerned you did the right thing, Wellesley. If you had left it any longer the winds would not have been favourable for the Red Sea.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Arthur felt the relief wash through his body at the general’s words. He approached the desk and handed his document folder over. ‘My report, sir. And the plans and documents pertaining to the campaign.’

  Baird took the folder and placed it on his desk. ‘I’ll read through that as soon as possible, and consult you again then. In the meantime, I have one question for you.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘I know that there have been some differences of opinion between us in the past, Wellesley, but I’m not foolish enough to bear a grudge. I’d be grateful if you would serve as my chief of staff. Well, will you do it?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Arthur replied. ‘Of course. I’d be honoured.’

  ‘Good!’ Baird smiled genuinely. ‘I’d hoped you’d agree. Now then, I’ll read through your report and then we’ll talk again.’

  The chance did not arise, as the illness took its hold on Arthur. The blisters spread across his skin until his whole body was encrusted in white protrusions the size of peas. If he scratched at them, the blisters burst and spread their foul contents, and left him in even more discomfort. Arthur attempted to distract himself by reading as much as possible, and writing a long letter each day to Kitty. As Dr Scott had said, sleep became impossible since every point of his body that was in contact with the bedding felt as if it was on fire. After a few days Arthur finally consented to try the nitric baths and substituted one kind of agony for another as the treatment left his skin feeling almost unbearably sore and tender.

  General Baird came to see him early in May. He stood a short distance from the bed and shook his head sadly as he gazed down at Arthur.

  ‘The fleet is sailing tomorrow. I wish you were coming with us.’

  ‘So do I, sir.’

  ‘I can understand that. After all the work you have put into preparing this army, you deserve to be there when it goes into action.You’ve done a fine job,Wellesley. I have no doubt that your brother’s confidence in your abilities is fully justified.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘There is a ship, the Susannah, which is waiting here to pick up the last consignment of powder. She leaves in ten days. If you have recovered by then, you can leave with her and catch us up. After that, the shift in the trade winds pattern will make it almost impossible to reach the Red Sea in time.’

  ‘I understand, sir.’

  ‘Once again, my thanks.’ Baird smiled. ‘I think you’ll understand if I refrain from shaking your hand.’

  Arthur laughed, then winced as the movement brought on a fresh wave of fiery irritation.

  ‘I hope to see you in Egypt, then.’

  Arthur nodded. ‘Goodbye, sir.’

  His recovery proceeded slowly, too slowly to re-join the expedition, and Arthur watched sadly from the window of the hospital as the Susannah slipped her moorings and headed out to sea.

  Three days later a cargo ship arrived with the news that the crew had witnessed the Susannah founder in a storm, taking every soul aboard with her.

  When Arthur heard this, he could not help wondering at the perversity of fate. To have given him a reputation-making command only to take it away, then make him too ill to join the expedition, and thereby miss a terrible death at sea. It was impossible to know if there was any divine design to his life. Rather, he seemed to be swung from fortune to misfortune with the regularity of a metronome. As his health slowly recovered Arthur’s grievance against Richard for his decision to replace him continued to fester after an exchange of letters failed to resolve their differences. Richard refused to acknowledge that he had been pressured into withdrawing Arthur’s command, and maintained that the reason for his decision was his need for Arthur’s services in India.

  Once he was well enough to travel, Arthur took a ship to Mangalore and then rode inland back to Seringapatam. He arrived early in May, as a thunderstorm lashed the city. Arthur’s illness had turned his hair grey at the temples, and his skin was still acutely sensitive as a result of the painful treatment he had undergone to cure the Malabar Itch. Vingetty did his best to make his master comfortable as the humidity of the monsoon season continued to aggravate his condition. He resumed his duties as military governor and summoned Barry Close to a meeting as soon as he returned to his office.

  ‘It’s good to see you back, sir.’ Close smiled warmly as he entered the office and shook Arthur’s hand.

  ‘I trust that Mysore has been running smoothly in my absence.’

  Close cocked his head to one side. ‘We have peace, trade and taxes, but there are still a few malcontents out there trying to stir up bad feeling against the Company.’

  ‘Thus it ever was,’ Arthur replied wearily. ‘But nothing to concern us unduly, I take it?’

  Close hesitated a moment before he replied. ‘I’m not so sure, sir. I’ve had some disturbing reports from my agents in the Mahratta federation.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘It seems that some of the warlords have hired themselves a number of French mercenaries to train scores of battalions of new recruits.’

  ‘Which warlords exactly?’

  ‘Scindia and Holkar.At the moment Holkar is remaining loyal to the Peshwa, but Scindia?’ Close shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea what the devil’s up to.’

  ‘But you have some suspicions,’ Arthur prompted.

  ‘Yes, sir.Yes I do.’ Close stroked his chin. ‘I believe he intends to rise up against the Peshwa, and impose a puppet ruler of his own. Scindia’s men have also been raiding into Hyderabad. It’s possible he plans to seize control of Hyderabad as well.’

  Arthur quickly thought through the implications. ‘If that happens, Scindia will pose a far greater threat to our interests than Tipoo ever did.’

  ‘That’s my fear, sir.’ Close nodded. ‘And we would have a war on our hands, the like of which has never been witnessed on Indian soil.’

  Chapter 62

  Napoleon

  Paris, July 1800

  ‘I gave them a great victory!’ Napoleon slammed his fist down on the desk. ‘What more do they want of me?’

  The First Consul and his closest advisers had just returned to the Luxembourg Palace after the celebrations of the anniversary of the fall of the Bastile. There had been the usual parades by the National Guard units, a few speeches to remember those who gave their lives for the revolution, and then the entry into the arena of over a hundred of the veterans of Marengo. Lucien had planned the moment
carefully. The men wore tattered uniforms, some were bandaged, and they carried the colours of the Austrian regiments that had surrendered in the rout that followed Desaix’s heroic counter-attack. When the soldiers appeared the band struck up a specially composed piece of uplifting music, and the tens of thousands of Parisians who had gathered to watch the spectacle were supposed to burst into wild patriotic cheers. Instead they remained stonily silent and the final fanfare sounded flat and false as the notes faded. Napoleon had barely been able to contain his fury as the carriages made their way back to the palace, and finally gave vent to his rage as they entered the First Consul’s private apartments. Lucien, Talleyrand and Fouché had sat still through the tirade and now waited a moment to be sure that the storm had run its course before daring to respond.

  Lucien kept his voice calm as he answered. ‘Victories are all very well, but the people want peace, brother.’

  ‘Peace?’ Napoleon pressed a hand over his heart. ‘Don’t they understand that I want peace too? There is no man in France who yearns for peace more than I do. But we can only have peace once our enemies are defeated. At the moment they will not accept anything less than the restoration of the Bourbons and the destruction of all that the revolution has achieved.’

  Talleyrand coughed lightly and Napoleon rounded on him with a cynical smile. ‘Are you ill, or is it that you have something to say?’

  ‘Citizen Consul, I am merely concerned about the notion of having peace only when our enemies are defeated.’

  ‘Really? I would have thought it was axiomatic.’

  ‘There is another way. We must negotiate a peace.’

  Napoleon sighed wearily. ‘That’s precisely what we are trying to do. Even with their armies defeated and an armistice agreed, the Austrians are delaying moves towards signing a peace treaty at every opportunity.’

  ‘They will see reason, in time,’ Talleyrand offered.

  ‘If they don’t see the gleam of English gold first, to lure them back into war.’

  ‘Precisely,’ Talleyrand countered. ‘The problem is England. While we are at war with England there will be no prospect of peace for France. We must deal with England.’

  ‘Oh, we’ll deal with them all right.’ Napoleon nodded. ‘The moment we land a French army on their shores. We’ll dictate peace terms from their houses of Parliament.’

  ‘You misunderstand me, Citizen Consul. I meant that we must deal with them in the sense of making peace with England.’

  ‘Oh.’ Napoleon looked disappointed. ‘But there can be no chance of peace while Pitt is Prime Minister.That man has made the destruction of our revolution his life’s mission. He denies us peace, and is prepared to ruin his country to bribe other nations to oppose us.’

  ‘True,’ Talleyrand conceded. ‘So we must wait until he is replaced, and, provided that we proceed shrewdly, that could happen rather sooner than you might suppose.’

  Napoleon narrowed his eyes. ‘Explain yourself.’

  ‘England’s strength relies on her trade. She needs customers for her goods, so we must attack her trade in order to hurt her enough to compel her to negotiate.’

  ‘How?’ Lucien asked. ‘You know the state of our navy. Most of our fleet is laid up, the best officers fled during the revolution, and man for man, ship for ship, they are no match for the Royal Navy.’ He glanced at Napoleon.‘That was made perfectly clear at Aboukir Bay.’

  ‘Thank you for reminding me,’ Napoleon replied coldly.

  ‘Then we don’t attack their sea trade,’ Talleyrand continued. ‘We cut them off from their customers instead. We make treaties and alliances with whatever nations we can, and at the same time we make sure that we use our diplomatic contacts to undermine England at every opportunity.’

  ‘Easier said than done,’ Fouché muttered.

  Talleyrand turned to him with a faintly amused expression. ‘You surprise me, citizen. I had thought you and your agents have had commendable success in your efforts to undermine and slander the opponents of the consulate. I merely wish to imitate your methods on the diplomatic stage.’

  As Fouché frowned Napoleon struggled to hide a smile and nodded to the foreign minister. ‘Go on.’

  ‘We must move quickly, while the example of Marengo is fresh in the minds of the rulers of Europe. Spain is weak, and will bow to pressure to return to France the territories she seized in North America. She is also concerned about English rivalry in the Americas and the Pacific ocean.We might yet persuade King Carlos to join us in the war against England. Prussia has no desire to echo the Austrian defeats and, in any case, they are rivals for control over the German principalities. The Tsar of Russia is furious about England’s claiming the right to search all ships at sea. My agents in St Petersburg say that Tsar Paul is even now trying to coax the Prussians into a joint war against England for that reason alone. Even America is losing patience with the Royal Navy’s interference with their shipping. Of course, while England is allied with Austria, that means the Tsar will be obliged to fight Austria as well. So, as you can see, the international situation is replete with advantages for us to seize.’ Talleyrand clasped his hands together. ‘If we can make peace with Austria, and put our efforts into diplomacy, then we can isolate England. In time she will be forced to accept peace on our terms.’

  ‘You make it sound easy,’ Napoleon remarked.

  ‘I did not say it would be easy, Citizen Consul. But it will work.’

  Napoleon nodded thoughtfully. Talleyrand’s advice made sense. And his scheme had the virtue of granting Napoleon time to reorganise and rebuild France’s exhausted armies for when they were needed again - as he had no doubt they would be. Until England was utterly crushed, any peace treaty would be little more than a breathing space before the struggle continued. But France desperately needed a period of peace. The mood of the public earlier that day was eloquent proof of that, and Napoleon’s mind turned from the wider sphere to the more immediate problems within France’s borders.

  ‘Very well, Talleyrand. Do all that you can to isolate England. That is the goal of our foreign policy from here on, and every other consideration is subordinate to that aim. Clear?’

  ‘Yes, Citizen Consul.’

  ‘Good. Then while our diplomats do their work abroad, we shall provide proof of our desire for peace here in France.We will make a new nation. We will consolidate the gains of the revolution so that our enemies see the futility of their desire to restore the Bourbons and all that they stand for. And we must convince our people that they have a stake in the future of France. All our people.’

  ‘What do you mean by all?’ asked Lucien.

  ‘I mean that we cannot succeed unless we resolve those issues that divide the French people.’

  Lucien stirred uncomfortably. ‘There are good reasons why the people are divided, brother. Class, religion and politics are the very stuff of society. And there are those who are for the revolution and those who are against. It is our duty to see that the latter are suppressed and eventually eradicated.’

  Napoleon sighed. ‘Can’t you see? That will never happen. As long as we drive people into the ranks of those who oppose us, France will never be at peace with itself. The process of revolution will never end. We will always see enemies about us, and be locked into one bloody purge after another.’

  ‘Then what are you saying?’ Lucien asked suspiciously.

  Napoleon stared at him for a moment before replying. ‘Perhaps it is time that the revolution came to an end. Perhaps it is time that we embraced those who opposed the revolution.’

  ‘We once called them enemies of the people.’

  ‘But they are the people,’ Napoleon countered earnestly.‘They always were, even when the Committee of Public Safety was drawing a line between those who supported the revolution and those who opposed it. That was the Committee’s mistake. There was hardly a peasant in the land who was not a revolutionary, until the Committee turned their sights on the church. The moment they b
egan to attack the priests, they drove a wedge between their own supporters. It is the same with the nobility. Many of them were radicals, yet because of their birth they were branded enemies of the people.’ Napoleon uttered the last phrase with contempt. ‘It was the same in Corsica, Lucien. You remember how our people embraced the revolution? You recall those times at the Jacobin club in Ajaccio?’

  ‘I remember.’

  Napoleon smiled. ‘Every one of us was a fervent radical . . . until the French government decided to suppress our Corsican identity. They lost Corsica because they did not embrace us as Corsicans. Such a little thing, and yet, people being people, there was a conflict where there never should have been one.That was the great mistake. That is what we must resolve.’

  Lucien shrugged.‘How? There has been too much blood shed for people to even imagine resolving their differences.’

  Napoleon knew that Lucien was right. But unless they tried to draw the French people back together their foreign enemies would not be able to resist exploiting the issues of religion and class that divided France. As long as there were émigrés who claimed to speak on behalf of the downtrodden church and nobility, then France would be at war with itself even as it was at war with other nations.That must end, Napoleon decided firmly, before France devoured itself and left England gloating over the ravaged carcass of its longtime enemy.

  ‘So, then, what do you propose, Napoleon? An amnesty for the priests and aristos?’

  Napoleon took a deep breath. ‘I propose that we abolish the laws proscribing the nobles and allow them to return to France. Furthermore, we return their property to them.’

  ‘Not the land already in the hands of the peasants, surely? If we did that there’d be another revolution. One we’d not survive.’

  ‘Very well,’ Napoleon conceded.‘We return as much property as we can. And one other thing. We must make a treaty with the Church of Rome.’

  ‘What kind of treaty?’

 

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