Текст книги "Fire and Sword"
Автор книги: Simon Scarrow
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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 44 страниц)
The mayor drew a deep breath and puffed out his cheeks. ‘The enmity was on the part of the rebels, sir. It is vital that the loyal men of Ireland are reminded of the sacrifices made to ensure that they do not have to live through bloody revolution. Why, if it were not for the victory at Vinegar Hill there would be a tricolour flying above Dublin Castle and not the Union flag! Think on that, sir, before you presume to upbraid me!’
Arthur shook his head.‘I do not mean to upbraid you. I do not mean to discount the sacrifices of the men at Vinegar Hill. I mean to ensure that the people of Ireland can enjoy the fruits of the subsequent peace. Accordingly we must not revive the divisions of the past. The conflict between our people should be forgotten if there is to be any chance of contentment in this troubled island. Do you not agree, sir?’ Arthur continued before the mayor could reply, ‘Therefore I do not give permission for your procession to take place.’
The mayor’s eyes bulged and there were some angry murmurs from those in his deputation. The mayor swallowed and hastily gathered his map in and rolled it up. ‘Then, sir, I shall take this matter to a higher authority, to someone who knows the true value of patriotism, and subscribes to the belief in no surrender to papist plotters.’
‘You are welcome to try,’ Arthur said with cool politeness. ‘Now, I bid you good day, gentlemen.’
As the mayor and the deputation strode out of his office, Arthur caught the eye of Stoper and beckoned him over. Once he was sure that he would not be heard by his departing visitors Arthur spoke.
‘Better send a quick note to his grace. Inform him of what has happened and my decision on this matter. Send it at once, before those men have a chance to drive a wedge between the Lord Lieutenant and his Chief Secretary.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Stoper pencilled a hurried line in his notebook. ‘Will that be all, sir?’
‘Quite enough, thank you.’
‘Very well, sir.’ Stoper bowed his head and made his way to the door. There he paused and looked back.
‘Well?’ Arthur raised an eyebrow. ‘What is it?’
‘If I may say so, sir, you did the right thing.’
‘Of course I did,’ Arthur replied coolly. ‘Any bloody fool can see that.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Stoper smiled and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Chapter 29
In an effort to better understand the public mood across Ireland, Arthur took his carriage and, together with Stoper, toured the counties with an escort of dragoons. What he found did not encourage him. In village after village he saw the same ramshackle cabins of the poor who barely eked out a living on the scraps of land they could afford to rent. The landowners were, for the most part, living in England – far from the troubles they had helped to provoke by keeping rents high and leaving their estates in the hands of agents who were intent on earning a comfortable commission by squeezing every last penny out of the hard-pressed tenants.
Each town and large village was garrisoned with redcoat soldiers who patrolled the streets and country lanes with the swagger of those who knew they had complete power over the local inhabitants, who dared not even meet their eye for fear of earning a hard beating. Conversely, it was a brave soldier who ventured out from his barracks alone.Though cowed, those with rebellion still in their hearts were still capable of isolated acts of violence, and Arthur received reports of soldiers and loyalists who had simply disappeared. Once in a while a body might turn up in a bog, or weighted down in a river, too badly decomposed to be identified.
After two weeks spent mostly in his carriage, closely confined with Stoper,Arthur finally gave the order to return to Dublin.As they rumbled along a rutted lane, Arthur stared out of the window at the passing fields, seeing the bent backs of Irish peasants as they laboured at their crops, or made improvements to their lands or rude cottages and shacks.
‘The danger to our interests here does not come from France,’ Arthur mused.
Stoper looked up sharply, having been trying his best to sleep as the carriage bumped along the crude track.
‘Sorry, sir. What did you say?’
‘I was just thinking. Following Trafalgar I doubt whether Bonaparte would consider another attempt at landing a force here in Ireland. He could never amass enough transports to carry the number of men necessary to guarantee the conquest of Ireland.’
‘No, sir. I suppose not.’
‘In which case the danger comes not from without but within.’ Arthur nodded towards the peasants in the field they were passing. A family of perhaps a dozen were busy seeding the tilled soil: a father, mother and children, some barely old enough to walk, let alone work. An infant was tucked in a sling round the mother’s chest. ‘As long as they endure such conditions, they will hold England responsible. Every time a child dies for want of a decent meal, they will blame England.’
Stoper nodded. ‘And it would be hard to blame them for doing so, sir. Not while they feel themselves to be oppressed.’
‘That may be true,’ Arthur replied quietly. ‘Yet, whatever the rights and wrongs of the situation, one thing is certain. Britain cannot dismiss the threat posed by the prospect of an independent Ireland.The French would be interfering here in a trice, landing guns, equipment and men and encircling Britain in an iron fist so that Bonaparte need only clench it to crush us.That cannot be allowed to happen.
‘The trick of it is to instil an innate sense of superiority in those appointed to control Ireland, right down to the last soldier in every garrison. At the same time the people must be made to accept the superiority of Britain. They must believe it so that they shrink from taking action against our rule.’
‘Our rule?’ Stoper repeated the phrase thoughtfully. ‘You already speak as if we were two different peoples and not one.’
‘Yes,’ Arthur replied sadly. ‘That is so. It strikes at my heart to say it, Stoper, but we need to be cruel and heartless long before we can afford to make any kind of move towards relieving the burdens of the people of Ireland. We can only make concessions from a position of strength, or else open the doors to a flood of cries for reform. That would be a flood we could not control. So, for now, there is nothing I can do, save encourage the security of the state by whatever means are necessary.’
Stoper stared at his superior for a while before he pursed his lips. ‘If you say so, sir.’
It was long after dark when the carriage returned to the lodge at Phoenix Park. The driver wearily unloaded Arthur’s baggage as the Chief Secretary stepped down from the carriage and dismissed the dragoon escort before turning to his senior clerk.
‘You have the notes, Stoper. I want a report on our findings before the end of the week so that I can present them to his grace.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now then, you may take my carriage to convey you home. I expect to see you in my office before eight in the morning. Clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’
As the carriage rattled off, Arthur climbed the steps to the house and rapped on the door. For a moment there was silence, then he heard the rapid patter of approaching feet and an instant later the door was opened. A footman peered cautiously round the jamb, holding a lantern up to inspect the late-night caller. He relaxed when he recognised Arthur.
‘Thank God it’s you, sir.’
‘Why, who else were you expecting? Now see to my baggage.’
‘Yes, sir.’
The footman’s face resumed its fretful expression and he glanced past Arthur into the drive until Arthur snapped at him. ‘Well? What are you waiting for?’
‘My apologies, sir, but we are expecting the physician at any moment.’
‘What?’ Arthur felt a stab of fear and anxiety. ‘What has happened, man? Tell me.’
‘It’s young Arthur, sir. He’s fallen ill.’
‘Ill?’ Arthur felt his stomach clench. ‘Out of my way.’
He ran up the steps and into the house. Taking the stairs two at a time, he raced to the first floor and along the corridor towards the bedrooms, the sound of his boots echoing off the walls. A door opened at the end of the corridor and Kitty emerged from the baby’s room. By the dim light of the candle burning in a bracket outside the door Arthur could see that she had been crying and even in the warm glow of the flame she looked ashen. Arthur’s footsteps faltered as he approached and a sick certainty that their son was dying struck him like a blow to the whole body.
‘By God, Kitty, what has happened?’
‘Our son is stricken,’ she replied softly, her lips trembling.
Arthur took her hands and squeezed them, before leading her back into the room. A nurse was leaning over the crib and dabbing at the child’s face with a damp cloth.The baby stirred and moaned pitifully for a moment before crying. Arthur looked down and saw that the boy’s face and arms were marked by red spots and he trembled feverishly.
‘What is it? What ails him?’
‘It’s measles, sir,’ the nurse replied.
‘He’s dying,’ Kitty whispered. ‘I know it.’
The nurse shook her head. ‘I’ve seen measles come and go, my lady. Most get over it soon enough. He’s a bonny lad. He’ll live, so he will.’
‘Measles,’ Arthur repeated. From what he knew of the sickness it was common enough and most who caught it recovered fully. He felt his anxiety begin to ease as he took Kitty’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘The boy has measles, Kitty. I am sure he will recover. As the nurse says.’
‘We must wait for the doctor,’ Kitty replied. ‘In case she is wrong.’
Arthur glanced at the nurse and they exchanged a brief look of understanding before he addressed his wife again. ‘I am sure the doctor will confirm what she says. Now you must take control of yourself, my dear. It does you no good to react so.And it certainly sets a bad example for the other members of the household.’
Kitty looked up at him with a confused expression. ‘But our son is gravely ill. How do you expect me to react?’
‘He is not gravely ill,’ Arthur replied tersely. ‘He will recover. There is no point in over-reacting.You cannot affect the outcome by indulging yourself in emotion. Come, let us go to the drawing room and I will give you something to drink. Something to fortify your mind.’
She shook her head, stunned by his apparent cold-heartedness. He took her gently by the arm and steered her towards the door, where he paused to look back towards the nurse. ‘Let me know when the doctor has been, and tell me what he says. We shall be in the drawing room.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Once he had settled Kitty on a sofa Arthur poured them both a glass of brandy and sat down opposite her on the other side of the fireplace, in the light of a single lantern placed on a small table. Kitty winced as she sipped the fierce spirit, while Arthur tipped his down his throat in one go, relishing the warm glow that spread through his body. He set the glass down with a sharp tap, then watched as Kitty sipped from her glass.
He smiled. ‘That’s better.You are more yourself, my dear. I think it would be best to refrain from such outbursts of emotion in future.The boy is in the hands of a good doctor. He will recover soon enough.Trust me.’
Kitty nodded.‘I know, my dear. I know.’ She was silent for a moment and took another sip of brandy before speaking again, looking at her husband furtively from beneath her brow. ‘I know that I am a disappointment to you, Arthur. I am not the woman you wished to marry.’
‘Nonsense, my dear. I will not hear it.’
‘Arthur, you are a good man. An honourable man.You have proved it in holding to your promise to marry me, when a lesser man would have recanted. By that token alone, I adore you. I know that I am not learned as you are. I have little experience of the world and have achieved naught of value in my life. Any propensity to beauty that I once had has faded. All that I have to offer you is my love and admiration.And yet, I am painfully aware that I disappoint you.That you consider me an unworthy partner.’
Her words fell on his heart like rocks, because he recognised the truth of them, and when he replied the falseness of his assurances left a foul taste in his mouth. ‘Kitty, my dear. I married you for love, and I honour you as my wife, as the mother of my son, and as the woman I will be proud to have by my side until the end of my days.’
She stared at him for a moment and then gave a resigned shrug. ‘If you say so, Arthur. If you say so.’
‘Is this all because of the boy’s measles?’
‘Not entirely.There have been other burdens to bear while you have been away, and I am not sure that I can run the household by myself. There seems so much to it.’
‘Other burdens?’
She bit her lip and looked at him uncertainly. ‘There is something else I need to tell you.’
Arthur felt yet more weight descend upon his shoulders and depress his spirits, even as he responded in an understanding manner. ‘What is that, my love?’
‘I believe . . . I think that I am expecting another child.’
‘That is good,’Arthur replied softly, then beamed.‘What am I saying? That is better than good.That is excellent news!’ He raised Kitty’s hands to his lips and kissed them. ‘Thank you, my dear.’
A smile flickered across Kitty’s face as she saw the genuine happiness in her husband’s eyes. ‘At least I can do something that pleases you.’
Chapter 30
My Dear Brother,
I write briefly to let it be known to you that his majesty’s government has determined to land a significant body of British soldiers on the continent before the year is out.The object of such an expedition is to offer encouragement to our allies who readily complain that Britain is only prepared to pay in gold what they pay in blood in opposing Bonaparte. As yet I have not been able to discover the destination of the expeditionary force, and will communicate any further information to you on this matter as soon as it is available to me. Arthur, I know that you believe that you best serve your country in a military rather than a civil capacity and I would commend this opportunity to you. However, there are sure to be plenty of officers of equal or superior rank, albeit inferior in ability, who will be competing furiously to be included in such an operation.Therefore, I would urge you to repair to London as soon as possible in order to make your representations in person to the War Office.
Richard.
Arthur folded the letter and set it down on the table beside his plate, with the others that he had opened and read since the meal had begun. He picked up his knife and began to cut into his steak.
There was a light cough from the other side of the table as Kitty gestured towards the letter. ‘No bad news there, I trust?’
‘No. None.’
‘It’s just that I recognised Richard’s hand and wondered what he had written that caused you to frown so.’
Arthur thought quickly before replying. There was no sense in upsetting Kitty over something that might never happen. ‘I was not frowning, my dear, just concentrating. Richard merely wishes to know if we are well, and if our son is thriving.’
‘I see.That is all?’
‘Yes,’ Arthur replied, and hurriedly impaled a piece of meat and popped it into his mouth. His mind raced as it dealt with the message that Richard had sent him.
It was true that he saw himself as a soldier first, a politician a poor second. The chance of joining an expedition to the continent to fight the Corsican tyrant was tempting in the extreme. Yet, as Richard had said, it was vital that he present his case for inclusion in person. He must leave Dublin as soon as possible.
‘I find it strange that Richard should write with such trivial concerns,’ Kitty continued. ‘It is unlike him.’
‘He must have time on his hands,’ Arthur replied. ‘There is no hope of returning to high office for a while yet.’
‘No. I suppose not.’ Kitty raised another small piece of meat to her mouth and chewed a moment before continuing. ‘Which makes it all the more odd that he did not take the time to write to you at more length.’
Arthur lowered his knife and fork and stared across the table at his wife. ‘Kitty, I do not know the man’s mind.Whether he chooses to write at length or not is a matter for Richard.’
‘I’m sorry, Arthur dear. I did not mean to upset you.’
‘You have not upset me,’ Arthur said coldly.
Arthur did not like to deceive his wife and he knew well enough that the idea of his going off to war would alarm her. Besides, it was one thing to be excited by the possibility of a military command on active service, and quite another to be fortunate enough to be granted such an appointment in practice. He smiled to himself as it occurred to him that it was perverse to think of the prospect of danger as an opportunity to be grasped.Yet without the war with France, he would never have had the chance to improve his lot in life, doomed for ever to be a younger son of a minor aristocratic family casting about for a well-heeled wife to save him from penury.
‘What are you thinking of, my dear?’
Arthur glanced up guiltily, and at once composed his expression into a mask of indifference. ‘Just something someone said to me today.’
‘Oh? And what was that?’
‘It does not matter. It is of no consequence,’ Arthur replied abruptly and instantly regretted his tone as he saw the hurt look flit across his wife’s face. She had been attempting to make small talk, to play the part of the dutifully attentive wife, only to be curtly rebuffed. He decided to attempt to divert her attention from the pain he had caused and clapped his hands together. ‘So tell me, how is our son today?’
Kitty started at the sudden noise and then smiled nervously. ‘Arthur is much better. I think he has almost recovered from the measles now.’
‘As I always knew he would. Good, good,’ Arthur continued quickly. ‘He is a robust little boy, sure enough. Make a fine soldier one day, eh?’
‘Soldier?’ Kitty nodded faintly. ‘Yes, that would be nice. A hero, like his father. That would make me so proud, my dear.’
Arthur cleared his throat.‘My dear, it seems that I may have to travel to London soon.’
‘London? Why?’
‘Official business. I am minded to brief the Prime Minister on the situation in Ireland. With all this trouble we have been having with rebellious spirits, he will be keen to be kept abreast of events.’
‘But I thought the situation was calming down? You told me so yourself.’
‘It is, my dear. Which means that my presence here is not quite so vital at the present. Now would be a good time to absent myself.’
‘How long will you be away?’
‘Hard to say. Some weeks.’ Arthur picked up his cutlery and began to cut at his steak again as he continued, ‘Months, possibly. I cannot say.’
Kitty looked at him with large sorrowful eyes.‘So long? I don’t think I could bear it.’
‘Of course you can, my dear,’ Arthur said smoothly.‘You will need to take charge of the household in my absence. It will be good practice for you.’
‘Practice for what?’
‘Ah.’ Arthur paused and cursed his tongue. ‘It is possible that I may be required to serve in the army again at some time. In which case, we may be separated for a while. Naturally, I could not fight well for my country if I was concerned that you were not coping with running the family’s affairs and seeing to the upkeep of the household. So it would be wise to treat this trip to London as a chance for you to get some experience of managing without me. I’m certain that you will make a fine job of it, Kitty, my dear.’
‘I will try to,’ she replied softly. ‘But do come back to me, to your son, as soon as you can.’
‘I will endeavour to do so with all my might,’ Arthur replied, forcing a smile.
It felt good to be back in London again, even though it had only been a matter of months since he had departed for Dublin. The streets, the coffee houses and the halls of Parliament itself were buzzing with news from Europe. With the coming of spring the French Emperor had renewed his campaign in the east and was marching towards the Russian armies in pursuit of a decisive battle. Few people in London seemed to doubt that he would achieve it. For his part Arthur was not so convinced. It all depended on how far Bonaparte was prepared to advance from his supply depots. If the Russians laid waste to the countryside behind them, then the French army must starve the further east it advanced. In time the Russians could pick their ground and turn on the tired, hungry and demoralised remains of the Grand Army. At least, that is the strategy that should be employed, Arthur reflected. Whether Tsar Alexander would see things the same way was another matter.
As soon as he had returned to the house in Harley Street,Arthur sent a message to Castlereagh at the War Office to request a meeting. He had already written to the minister at the start of June explaining his wish to be included in any army sent to fight the French, even if that meant giving up his current post and all the political prestige that went with it. Castlereagh’s response had been swift and he had promised to discuss the matter in person if Arthur came to London.
So it was that on a fine bright day in the middle of June Arthur was strolling briskly along Whitehall to the War Office.Turning through the gates at Horseguards he passed between the sentries at the main entrance and presented himself at the desk at the end of the hall.
‘Major-General Sir Arthur Wellesley. I have an appointment with the minister.’
The clerk glanced down the list of names and then nodded to one of the orderlies seated behind him. ‘Take the general upstairs. Minister’s office.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The orderly bowed his head. ‘If you’d follow me, sir?’
As they climbed the staircase and passed along corridors Arthur was aware of a good deal more activity than had been the case on his previous visit. Clerks and officers were busy at their desks in each room they walked by. Others hurried along the corridors with sheafs of paper clutched tightly to their sides.
‘It would appear that the War Office is engaged in planning something rather grand.’
‘Yes, indeed, sir.’The orderly glanced back and nodded, before lowering his voice. ‘Word is that there are plans to invade France itself, sir.’
‘Really?’ Arthur doubted it. There was no sense in such a direct approach to the enemy. Not when there was no earthly chance of success against the numbers the French could bring to bear against a British army setting foot on their soil. ‘Any news from the continent?’
The orderly nodded. ‘I heard from a clerk upstairs that the latest despatch says that Boney has forced the Russians to make peace. The beggar’s unbeatable.’
Arthur glanced at him sharply. ‘No general is unbeatable, it is just a question of time. Bonaparte will be beaten one day.’
‘Really, sir?’
‘You have my word on it.’
‘That’s a comfort,’ the orderly replied and Arthur felt a brief spark of anger at the man’s tone, before his mind fixed on the news. So Bonaparte had defeated the Russians.Arthur shook his head at the Tsar’s rashness. He was doing Bonaparte’s work for him.This was the price an army paid when it was led in person by a monarch, rather than a professional soldier. Arthur smiled wryly. France was indeed fortunate that her ruler and the very best of her generals were one and the same man. Fortunate for France, but a curse to her enemies.
‘Here we are, sir.’The orderly stood aside at a doorway and bowed as Arthur passed inside. He rang a bell further down the corridor and then left Arthur alone.The anteroom was the same small room where he had met Nelson nearly two years before. As he recalled the moment and vividly pictured the admiral sitting there that day, Arthur felt a sudden sense of what the man’s loss meant to those who had met him, however briefly, and to the nation as a whole. King George and all his subjects had slept more easily since Trafalgar.While that great battle had not won the war, it had made Britain’s defeat unlikely. As the thought came to him,Arthur wondered on whose shoulders it would fall to complete the great project that Nelson had given his life for.
‘Sir? If you would come in.’
Arthur looked up and saw a thin-faced young man in a neat dark coat standing in the doorway to Castlereagh’s office.
‘I’m twenty minutes early.’
‘The minister wishes to see you at once, sir.’
‘Very well, then.’ Arthur strode across the room and followed the man inside. Castlereagh rose and stretched out a hand as soon as he saw Arthur. The young man settled himself at the side of the table and picked up a pencil and notebook.
‘Good to see you again,Wellesley!’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Arthur replied as he took the man’s hand and gave it a firm shake.
‘Sit you down, man!’ Castlereagh smiled.‘How are things in Ireland?’
‘I am sure you have seen my reports, sir. I believe I have been thorough enough in those documents.’
‘I’m sure you have.They are models of clarity and conciseness. And like any such things, they lack the personal perception that the reader so often craves. So I ask you again.’
Arthur smiled back, pleased by the minister’s candour.Yet he knew that whatever admirable qualities Castlereagh possessed, he was still a politician and needed to be spoken to in a circumspect manner. For a moment he wondered if he should speak frankly in front of the third man, whom he assumed to be the minister’s personal secretary. But if Castlereagh asked such frank questions in front of the younger man, then Arthur should answer them in a similar fashion. He cleared his throat.
‘Sir, we hold Ireland, as a strong man holds a weaker one – by the throat. We can keep Ireland under control as long as we don’t grow weary of the strength it takes to subdue the natives. Unless we can make Englishmen of them there will never be peace there, except under the muzzles of British guns.’
Castlereagh was still for a moment as he stared directly at Arthur. Then he nodded. ‘I see. No peace, then.’
‘No peace, but order. And that can be maintained as long as we have the will to do it, however forcefully it needs to be carried through.’
‘Spoken like a soldier.’ Castlereagh smiled. ‘Alas.’
‘Alas?’
‘If you should cleave to a political career you will find such candour a considerable burden. Then again, you did not come here to pursue a political career. Carstairs, the letter if you please.’ Castlereagh held out his hand and his secretary quickly flipped open a file in front of him and flicked through a couple of pages before he found what he was looking for and proffered it to the minister. Castlereagh held it up for Arthur to see. ‘Your letter of the first of June.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Castlereagh examined it briefly. ‘You say that you cannot tolerate being in Ireland when an operation on the continent is being planned.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You still hold to that view?’
‘That is why I am here, sir,’ Arthur replied evenly.
‘Yes,’ Castlereagh lowered the letter and tapped his finger on the final paragraph. ‘You say you would be willing to give up your post as Chief Secretary in order to have a military command. May I ask why?’
‘For the reasons you have stated, sir. I am more a soldier than a politician. At a time of war I believe it is every man’s duty to serve his country in whichever capacity best utilises his proven abilities.’
‘A sound enough principle,’ Castlereagh conceded. ‘Yet the Duke of Richmond assures me that he could have picked no finer man for your current post than yourself. Do you doubt his word?’
‘It is kind of him to say that,’ Arthur replied cautiously. ‘And I could quite easily continue serving his grace from here in London, until such time as my appointment in the expeditionary force is confirmed or denied. If I am denied then I could return to my duties in Dublin.’
Castlereagh considered the suggestion for a moment and then frowned. ‘That is a highly irregular suggestion, Wellesley. I am not convinced that it would work.’
‘I disagree, sir. I believe that I could conduct the business of government from a distance. Besides, I believe the true path of service to my country lies in being a soldier.’
‘It is true that the late William Pitt regarded you highly in that capacity, and there are plenty of other men of influence who would agree that you are an officer of unusual ability and promise.’ Castlereagh paused to collect his thoughts, and then nodded. ‘Very well, I shall do my best to see that you are included amongst the general officers picked for the expeditionary force.’
Arthur felt a rush of relief sweep through his chest and tried to control the smile that was keen to play on his lips. ‘Thank you, sir.You won’t regret it, I swear.’
‘See that I don’t. Now then, is there anything else?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Arthur nodded. ‘I am given to understand that Bonaparte has forced the Russians to come to terms.’
The minister exchanged a quick glance with Carstairs before he responded. ‘Good God, that news has only just reached London this morning! Are there no secrets in this damned country? Where did you hear that?’
Arthur had no desire to have the orderly and his friend held responsible for slackness higher up the chain of command. So he shrugged. ‘A chance comment overheard as I made my way to this meeting, sir.’
Castlereagh stared closely at him.‘I see. Fair enough. It seems certain that it will be only a matter of days before we hear that the latest coalition against France has collapsed. I sometimes wonder if that bloody frog is invincible.’
‘Bonaparte can and will be defeated, sir,’Arthur replied firmly.‘Given the chance I shall prove it.’
Castlereagh smiled. ‘I believe you would. You see, Carstairs, the fighting spirit of our commanders burns as bright as ever.’
Carstairs nodded. ‘As you say, sir.’
‘Well then.’ Castlereagh rose to his feet suddenly, indicating that the meeting was over. ‘Wait to hear from me, Wellesley. I will do all that I can to give you the chance to bloody the nose of our enemy.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Arthur replied as he stood, and shook the minister’s hand.
‘In the meantime, you will need to settle your affairs in Ireland, and break the news to the Duke of Richmond, who, I dare say, will not be too pleased at losing the services of so able a subordinate.’
