Wellington: A Personal History. Christopher Hibbert

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СКАЧАТЬ Cintra and when such a tribunal was first suggested he rejected the proposal out of hand. He was eventually obliged to tolerate one, however; and in November a Board of General Officers was convened in the Great Hall of Chelsea Hospital under the presidency of an intimate friend of the Duke of York, the tall, austere, Scottish General Sir David Dundas, Governor of the Hospital, who had been a captain in the Dragoons long before Sir Arthur Wellesley was born. Sir Hew Dalrymple was recalled from the Peninsula to answer the Board’s questions; Sir Arthur Wellesley returned from Ireland where he had briefly gone to see his family and to consult Croker, still his deputy in the Chief Secretary’s office. Sir Harry Burrard was already in England.

      All three had been the subject of endless calumny, ridicule and jokes, in broadsheets, pamphlets and verse, both Byron and Wordsworth eventually adding their voices to the general condemnation.

      They were shown in caricature dangling grotesquely from gallows with white feathers in their hats; they were depicted as inmates of Bedlam drinking toasts over the prostrate body of a dishonoured Britannia. James Gillray caricatured kneeling British officers kissing Junot’s bottom. Charles Williams parodied ‘The House that Jack Built’ in seven designs, one of which was inscribed ‘This is Sir Arthur (whose valour and skill, began so well but ended so ill)’.³ In another caricature George Cruikshank showed Sir Arthur kneeling before Junot and asking him abjectly, ‘May it please your Highness to accept these terms as a Convention & should any of them seem to you Ungrateful, dictate according to your Noble Will’4

      Charles Williams presented Dalrymple as the butt of a fellow officer singing,

       T was You Sir Hew — ’T was Hew who let the French escape That makes you look so blue Sir Hew.5

      Newspapers took to printing comments on the Convention surrounded by thick black funereal borders. William Cobbett lambasted all responsible for agreeing to it in the pages of his Weekly Political Register. Indignant people told each other that Walter Scott’s friend, the author George Ellis, had summed it up nicely when he said that in future he would spell ‘Humiliation’ with a ‘Hew’.⁶

      The Board examined the three Generals who were the object of all this ridicule with the most ponderous and elaborate diligence. Sir Hew Dalrymple answered questions which seemed to reflect adversely upon his good sense or honour with a touchy hauteur, occasionally revealing his animus against a junior colleague who, while a signatory to the agreement, wished to dissociate himself from it. Sir Arthur Wellesley, while taking care to exonerate Sir Harry Burrard from all blame, did not trouble to disguise his disdain for Dalrymple whom he considered wholly responsible for the pernicious document. ‘I gave him my opinion when he asked for it, and when I thought it desirable to give it to him,’ he deposed. ‘But I was not the negotiator, and could not be, and was not so considered, the commander of the forces being present in the room, deciding upon all points … If the commander had given me instructions to negotiate this instrument and I had then negotiated it, I might have been responsible for its contents … but as it is my signature is a mere form.’⁷

      Day after day the members of the Board listened to such speeches, examined witnesses, pored over bundles of papers, read transcripts, deliberated among themselves; and in December, anxious not to ruffle any feathers or hurt anyone’s feelings, they issued a report which, commenting upon a number of matters other than that which they had been called upon to examine, concluded that ‘no further military proceeding was necessary on the subject’.⁸ When the Duke of York pointed out that their verdict scarcely answered the question which they had been asked to determine, they met again; and, after lengthy deliberation, came to the conclusion, by four votes to three, that they approved of the Convention.⁹

      Wellesley was free to return to Dublin. His duties there were more irksome than ever now; and he longed to serve in the Army again. ‘I shall go to England for the meeting of Parliament,’ he wrote, ‘and mean to join the Army as soon afterwards as I shall be allowed to go.’¹⁰

      He was back in London by the beginning of 1809 and took up his seat in the Commons again, gratified to receive the thanks of the House for his defeat of Junot at Vimeiro; and, with an eye no doubt on his future career, he spoke in defence of the Duke of York whose witty, pretty and wildly extravagant mistress, Mrs Mary Anne Clarke, had been accepting money for recommending officers to the notice of her lover, although Wellesley expressed the view in private that the Duke had been most indiscreet and had laid himself open to the charge that he had ‘manifested so much weakness and had led such a life’ that there were grounds for doubting that he was a ‘proper person to be trusted with the execution of the duties of a responsible office’.¹¹ In the event the Duke of York felt obliged to resign as Commander-in-Chief and was succeeded by the dour old General Dundas who, because of his friendship with the Duke, as well as his age, would be ready to hand the Horse Guards back to him when the scandal had subsided.

      In the month of Dundas’s appointment, Wellesley learned that he was to be given a new command. There had been some doubt as to whether the King would approve of so young a lieutenant-general being given such responsibility. But Castlereagh, to whom Wellesley sent long and useful memoranda on the likely future course of fighting in the Peninsula, was a strong advocate; and, as his Majesty was informed, the Cabinet ‘humbly conceived’ that Sir Arthur was the General most likely to succeed in the campaign that lay ahead, and therefore proposed that ‘His Majesty’s service (without prejudice to the claims of the distinguished officers in His Majesty’s Army who are his seniors) may have the benefit of Sir Arthur Wellesley’s being employed where he has had the good fortune of being successful.’¹²

      There were, after all, few alternatives. Sir John Moore, who had been left in command in the Peninsula, having advanced from Lisbon towards Valladolid, had been forced to retreat to Corunna when the French advanced upon him with 70,000 men after the fall of Madrid; and at Corunna he had been mortally wounded in a battle against Marshal Soult. Moore’s successor, Lieutenant-General Sir John Cradock, was believed to be insufficiently capable. Dalrymple and Burrard were not even considered. So Wellesley was appointed to the command and made his preparations for departure.

      One of his last missions, so Harriette Wilson said, was to say goodbye to her.

       He called to take a hasty leave of me [she wrote], a few hours before his departure.

       ‘I am off to Spain directly,’ he said.

       I know not how it was but I grew melancholy. [He] had relieved me from many duns which else had given me vast uneasiness. I saw him there, perhaps for the last time in my life … I burst into tears …

       ‘If you change your home,’ [he] said kissing my cheek, ‘let me find your address at Thomas’s Hotel as soon as I come to England; and, if you want anything in the meantime, write to Spain; and do not cry; and take care of yourself; and do not cut me when I come back.

       ‘Do you hear?’ he said, first wiping away some of my tears with my handkerchief; and then, kissing my eyes, he said, ‘God bless you!’ and hurried away.¹³

      It was at least true that he had given her money. When her memoirs were published in 1825 he was asked by his friend Harriet Arbuthnot if what had been written about him could possibly be accurate. He had known Harriette Wilson, he admitted, ‘a great number of years ago, so long that he did not think he should remember her again, that he had never seen her since he married tho’ he had frequently given her money when she wrote to beg for it’.¹⁴

      In April 1809, having waited for a wind, Sir Arthur Wellesley set sail for the Peninsula once more in the Surveillante in heavy seas that by nightfall had been lashed into fury by a gale. Heedless of the captain’s fear that he would have to run the ship ashore on the Isle of Wight, he was undressing when Colin Campbell, his aide-de-camp, СКАЧАТЬ