Fire and Sword (69 page)
Authors: Simon Scarrow
‘In Madrid at least. I am not so sure that this sentiment is shared by the regional juntas.’
‘Pah!’ Napoleon waved his hand dismissively. ‘Once they learn that the Madrid junta has made this offer, and that you have accepted it, they will quieten down and follow the lead from the capital.’
‘I hope you are right,’ Joseph responded doubtfully.‘I have heard that much of the country is in open rebellion.’
‘Precisely because they lack a king,’ Napoleon explained. ‘Murat has handled his role with all the sensitivity of a common street butcher. Of course the people are resentful. They see only a French army of occupation and a French marshal acting as a dictator. But once they have a king, once civil government is restored and business can resume as before, they will settle down. Then you can offer them reforms to bring their backward institutions into the modern world. They will thank you for it, Joseph, and in a few years’ time they will come to respect and love you. I am sure of it.’
Joseph nodded appreciatively. ‘That would be something to be remembered for. Something I could be proud of, in the fullness of time.’
‘Precisely.’ Napoleon leaned towards him with an intense expression. ‘Well, then.Your condition for accepting the crown has been met. Now you must keep your part of the bargain.’
‘Yes.’ Joseph nodded, then thought for a moment and looked directly at his brother.‘There is much to be done in Spain. May I count on your support? Your full support?’
‘Of course, brother!’ Napoleon smiled and patted him affectionately on the shoulder. ‘No matter how long it takes, no matter how many men it takes, I swear that I will maintain you on the throne of Spain. I swear it.’
Chapter 42
Arthur
Dublin, April 1808
‘Congratulations, my dear,’ said Kitty as she leaned forward and kissed Arthur. ‘It is no more than you deserve, and long overdue.’
He read through the letter from the War Office once more, just to make sure. The Secretary of State for War was pleased to inform Sir Arthur Wellesley that he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant-general in his majesty’s forces with immediate effect. Furthermore, he was requested to attend a small investiture ceremony in London, and afterwards make himself available to the Foreign Secretary in order to offer his opinions with respect to the course of the war with France.
Arthur lowered the letter on to the table and shrugged. ‘It is tempting to wonder if this might not have come a bit earlier had I not been held back by my service in India. Never mind.The promotion has come, and I am better able to serve my King and country as a result. That is the important thing.’
Kitty had returned to her seat and was fussing over the crib where their second child, Charles, was lying, tiny fists clenched as he waved them about furiously. The boy’s birth had been one of Arthur’s few consolations since his return from Denmark at the end of the previous year. Almost as soon as the convoy had put into port he had been summoned back to Dublin to resume his duties as Chief Secretary to the Duke of Richmond. He was back at his desk early in October, dealing with the same old problems that had beset Ireland for decades. The divisions between Catholics and Protestants were as pronounced as ever.There were more absentee landlords every year and the prospect of mass starvation due to the failure of the potato harvest constantly loomed.
Even as Arthur worked conscientiously to improve the lot of the Irish people, his mind was fixed on the political situation on the continent and his desire to serve his country in uniform again. Shortly after his return, news arrived of Bonaparte’s attempt to seize control of the Portuguese navy and every man and woman in Britain had breathed a sigh of relief when they heard of the escape of the Portuguese royal family and their warships, two days before French troops occupied Lisbon.
Kitty cleared her throat and Arthur glanced across the table to see her watching him closely.
‘What is it, my dear?’
‘I was wondering how long you might be spending in London this time.’
‘It is hard to say,’ Arthur replied cautiously. He was conscious that Kitty had still not completely forgiven him for the cavalier way he had joined the expeditionary force setting sail for Denmark. He had given her no warning that he was involved with the planning and preparation for the campaign. ‘But I promise that I shall write to you often and make every effort to return to Dublin as soon as I may.’
‘As long as you promise that, I shall be content, Arthur.’ She was quiet for a moment before she continued. ‘You know that I miss you, and worry for your safety when you are not here.’
‘I realise that, my dear,’ Arthur replied patiently.‘But I am a soldier as well as a civilian official.As a husband and father, it is not always possible to balance the claims of all those duties, and those persons to whom I am obliged to give my attention.’
‘I wish that you would give up soldiering,’ Kitty responded with quiet intensity as she offered her little finger to Charles, who grasped it and squeezed for all he was worth, making his mother smile faintly.‘You have done enough active service for your country already. Surely it is the turn of someone else?’
‘My dear, the long years of campaigning in India are precisely the reason why I am needed in uniform. I have valuable experience of leading men, and indeed entire armies, on campaign, and in battle. My country has profited from what I have learned.Would you deny Britain the benefit of that experience now, when we are almost within the grasp of the Corsican tyrant? Britain needs every soldier that can bear arms.’ He smiled at her. ‘If you must blame anyone for the demands made on me, then let it be Bonaparte.’
‘Wretched man,’ Kitty responded, with feeling. She was quiet a moment, thinking. ‘What drives him to desire power without limit?’
It was an interesting question and Arthur gave it some thought before he attempted to reply. ‘A difficult one to answer.There is a flaw of character in some men, whereby they are never replete with the satisfaction that comes with serving one’s country. Their sense of duty becomes corrupted by ambition to the extent that their only obligation is to themselves and hang the rest of it. I believe that Bonaparte is such a man. But he is also the child of a particular moment in history. Were it not for the revolution in France, I doubt that he would have attained any substantial rank in the French army.’
‘Truly?’ Kitty looked surprised. ‘Surely the man has remarkable talents, otherwise he would never have risen to become Emperor.’
‘Oh, he is remarkable enough,’ Arthur conceded. ‘But if there had been no revolution he would have faced the same restrictions on his advancement as I have in the British army. Indeed, given the obscurity of his social origins, I dare say he would never have been likely to rise above the rank of captain in the army that existed before the revolution. The revolution was the making of Bonaparte, just as it was of many of those who now hold powerful offices in France. It was the revolution that opened the doors of rapid promotion to so many men. It was the revolution that fashioned Bonaparte and fed him the opportunities for advancement that brought him to where he is today, and obliged the rest of us to fight him until the bitter end,’ Arthur added with a mirthless smile.‘I wonder, if our positions had been reversed and I had been born in Corsica, how far I might have risen? Equally, if Bonaparte had been born here in Ireland, to my parents, he would have been fortunate to have attained the posts that I have and be sitting here talking to you, my dear.’
Kitty shuddered. ‘The thought of being married to such a monster makes my blood run cold.’
‘And so it should.’ Arthur was silent a moment before he continued. ‘Though I am not wholly certain whether he is what he is by defect of character, or by transformation afforded him by the revolution. I doubt we shall ever know.What a pity.’
‘As long as he is brought low before too much longer, I don’t care,’ said Kitty. ‘And as long as he is brought low without you or any of my brothers coming to harm I shall be happy. He is an evil man.’
‘Evil?’ Arthur considered the suggestion. ‘I suppose he is . . .Yes, you are right. He is doing evil now. There is no question of it. He has changed the nature of war. There was a time when war had limited aims, when it was the last resort of kings and ministers when all else had failed.The army was the final servant of the nation. Now Bonaparte has made the Grand Army into the master of France and the country exists only to serve its soldiers, and their only purpose is to wage war. And war, to my mind, is the greatest of evils.’ Arthur stared out of the window as images from the past burst, unwanted, into his mind. ‘I have seen enough to know that. And to know the degree to which it corrupts the spirits of men.’
‘Then why are you so keen to return to war?’ asked Kitty plaintively.
‘Keen? I am not keen in the slightest. I mean to do all I can to end this conflict, but there can be no end to it as long as Bonaparte rules France. Once he is defeated, then I can give up war once and for all.’
Kitty stared at him a moment. ‘They are fine sentiments, Arthur, but there are times when I fear that you have become just as addicted to conflict as Bonaparte.’
Arthur pursed his lips briefly and nodded wearily. ‘There are times when I fear that you may be right.’
London was buzzing with the news that the Spanish royal family had been ousted from the throne. It was clear to all that Bonaparte would replace them with a puppet ruler as soon as possible, and extend his grip on Europe from the Straits of Gibraltar to the Baltic Sea. Before his departure from Dublin Arthur had been sent some documents from the Foreign Office outlining possible campaigns that might be undertaken against Spain’s possessions in the Americas. The schemes had all been hatched by a renegade, General Miranda, leader of the rebels in Venezuela who sought independence from Spain. During the journey to London Arthur had analysed the sketchy plans and could see that there was scope for some action in the Americas, but he was wary of backing wholesale revolution throughout the Spanish empire. Revolutions were tricky beasts whose nature and direction could never be anticipated.
As soon as he reached the house in Harley Street Arthur sent a message to George Canning announcing his arrival and preparedness to meet at the first opportunity. So it was that first thing the following day Arthur presented himself at the office of the Foreign Secretary. Canning was a slight man with brilliant eyes and a ready smile.
‘Ah, Wellesley! Come in and sit yourself down.’ Canning beamed from behind his desk. Arthur did as he was bid and settled comfortably into a soft leather chair opposite his host.
Canning leaned forward, hands folded together. ‘First chance I have had to add my congratulations on your performance in Denmark. First of all, a vote of thanks from Parliament for your - what was the phrase? Ah, yes! Your “genius and valour”. And then a formal note from the Danes expressing their gratitude for the honourable manner in which you negotiated their surrender of Copenhagen. Truly you are the coming man.’
‘I thank you.’ Arthur bowed his head modestly. ‘I did no more than my duty.’
‘Of course, of course,’ Canning replied with a quick nod. ‘Just as any officer would do.’
‘Yes.That is what I would hope.’
Canning smiled and eased himself back in his chair. ‘I have been authorised by the Cabinet to offer you a new command. An army is to be sent to liberate Portugal, and it was felt that you would be the most suitable officer to take charge of the campaign. Do you accept?’
‘Indeed, sir.’ Arthur’s eyebrows arched in surprise at the suddenness of the offer. He felt elated, and did his best to hide it.‘Do you intend to extend the operation beyond the frontiers of Portugal?’
‘The government considers that it would be most prudent to begin with Portugal. It is more easily supplied and defended, and should provide an admirable base for wider operations when the time is ripe. Only then you might consider Spain.’
Arthur’s heart quickened at the prospect. This was the war he had dreamed of. The chance to tackle French troops directly on terrain favourable to the British.With the Spanish nation rising up against the French occupiers Bonaparte faced waging a war in the most difficult of conditions. His men, accustomed to feeding off the land, would be the targets of armed bands of peasants.The climate was hot too and Arthur well knew the particular strains of campaigning under the merciless glare of the sun. Nor would it be a theatre of war that the French Emperor could ignore. Having made his brother King, Bonaparte would be compelled to divert endless resources to Spain to support Joseph and prevent the humiliating spectacle of a member of his family being ousted from the throne that the Emperor had placed him upon. The situation was ripe with advantages for Britain and her new Spanish and Portuguese allies.
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