Fire and Sword

by Simon Scarrow

  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.

  Chapter 54

  Napoleon

  Paris, 23 January 1809

  The imperial carriage entered the city late in the morning, having been on the road for several days with only the briefest of stops to change the horses and drivers. Napoleon had taken advantage of such moments to step down from the carriage and stretch his limbs. As he walked up and down beside the coach he thought over the reports he had received on the journey from Valladolid. Soult had chased the British all the way to Corunna after an epic pursuit through the harsh terrain of the Cantabrian mountains.The British rearguard had fought like lions, contesting every step of the way along the ragged mountain tracks, and across wild rivers swollen by winter rain. At the end the British had abandoned almost all their wagons and many of their guns, and only just over half their original force was evacuated from Corunna. The news cheered Napoleon greatly. Such a repulse would strike a blow at Britain’s desire to continue the war. It would have been even better if the entire army had been caught and crushed, Napoleon mused, but it was a French victory all the same, sweetened by the death of General Moore, struck by a cannonball on almost the last day of the evacuation.

  There had also been further confirmation of the conspiracy of Talleyrand and Fouché. Prince Eugène, the Emperor’s stepson, who was acting as his viceroy in Italy, had intercepted another letter to Prince Murat. The imperial crown was offered to Murat in far more explicit terms, together with an assurance that the people of France would be sure to back Murat’s claim, even if Napoleon was not killed in Spain. Napoleon had felt the rage rising in him like a fire as he read Eugène’s message. It was not that he felt surprised by their treachery. It was more to do with their ingratitude. Fouché and Talleyrand owed their high office, their titles and their wealth to Napoleon. It was he who had recognised their talents and raised them up to their current stations. Now they repaid him with treachery.

  Looking out of his carriage window Napoleon studied the faces of the people he passed in the street. Most had stopped to watch the small procession of gaudily uniformed escorts and the gilded carriage pass by, and some had cheered when they saw the imperial crest on the door. But most had remained silent, their faces expressionless as they stared at their Emperor. It was a cold morning but even allowing for that Napoleon felt an icy tingle trace its way down his spine as he contemplated the mood of his people.

  Once he reached the Tuileries he summoned his brother Lucien and strode anxiously up and down the length of his office until he arrived.

  ‘Your majesty.’ Lucien bowed his head. ‘It is good to see you again.’

  ‘The door is closed,’ said Napoleon. ‘You can dispense with the formalities, brother.’

  Lucien cocked an eyebrow. ‘Well, that is an interesting development. You must be more concerned about the situation than I thought.’

  ‘How concerned should I be?’

  ‘There is no immediate threat of open revolt. To be sure, Talleyrand carries the support of much of the nation. The people want peace, Napoleon, and we still don’t have it. Can you wonder that they might want a change? Particularly in view of events in Spain.’

  ‘The conquest of Spain is all but complete,’ Napoleon replied irritably. ‘We have beaten their armies.We have driven the British from the Peninsula. All that remains is for Joseph to mop up a handful of rebels in Seville and all is done.’

  Lucien nodded faintly. ‘So you say. However, there are reports reaching Paris that the common people of Spain are anything but conquered. They harry our men from every point of concealment and the writ of the new King carries no further than the nearest French garrison.’

  ‘Those who say such things are liars. Worse than liars, traitors.’

  ‘If that’s the case, then perhaps there are rather more traitors in France than you might like.’ Lucien smiled slightly. ‘Sorry, Napoleon, but you have to know these things.’

  ‘Yes,’ Napoleon conceded and made a thin smile of contrition. ‘Yes, I do. Apologies, brother. Please continue.’

  ‘Very well. As I said, there is a strong voice for peace in France. Talleyrand is playing on that for all he is worth. But he knows that the army is behind you.While you have the loyalty of your soldiers there is nothing he can do. However, with the growing threat of war with Austria, people are beginning to wonder what will happen to them if France is defeated. You will surely be removed from the throne, and those like Talleyrand and Fouché who have much to lose if the Bourbons return are fearful of losing their titles and their riches. So it seems to me that they are calculating that if they can find a leade
r who poses less of a threat to the rest of Europe, then France will be permitted to enjoy the fruits of peace.’

  ‘And they think that Murat would make a good Emperor?’ Napoleon asked incredulously.

  ‘Not necessarily, but I am sure Talleyrand is convinced that Murat will be his puppet, and he would be a popular choice with the army. If Murat can be persuaded to make the concessions necessary for France to be at peace with Europe,Talleyrand and Fouché and their friends will continue to live very comfortably.’

  ‘What if the other European powers will not make peace with Murat?’

  ‘Then Talleyrand will align himself with the Bourbons and hope to be rewarded when Murat is defeated.’