Fire and Sword

It was not just the thought of the dead that occupied his mind. He was worried about the terms of the armistice. Although it would mean that the Portuguese campaign was over for the present, with no further loss of life, the prospect of allowing Junot’s army to escape galled him. Worse still, he could imagine how people back in London might react to the news that a French army had been carried home in the holds of British warships.That was the kind of detail the newspapers and public opinion were bound to focus on, rather than the fact that the expeditionary force had achieved what it had set out to do, and expelled French forces from Portugal.

‘Sir!’

He turned and saw a staff officer beckoning to him. ‘Sir, the general wishes you to attend him.’

With a sigh Arthur rose to his feet and strode back across the top of the hill to General Dalrymple’s tent. Inside he saw that his superior and Kellerma

‘Sit down,Wellesley.We have a draft for the armistice. Since you had the honour of wi

‘Thank you, sir.’

Dalrymple proceeded in a dry monotone and when he had finished he laid down the draft. ‘Well?’

There was little deviation from the details they had discussed earlier, but there was one matter Arthur wanted clarification of. ‘I do have a question for General Kellerma

Kellerma

‘And what is the precise nature of this property?’

‘It is hard for me to say.’ Kellerma

‘I see.’ Arthur’s eyes narrowed.‘Can I take it that none of these items were acquired during the course of the French army’s campaign in Portugal?’

Kellerma

‘Not if you can give me your word that your property is not loot.’

‘Enough, Wellesley!’ Dalrymple slapped his hand on the table. ‘I will not have you undermine the armistice by making such accusations. Now then, those are the terms. General Kellerma

‘I would be pleased to, sir.’

Kellerma

‘General, I think that it would be appropriate for an officer of equal rank to sign on behalf of the British.’

‘Really? Why is that?’

‘Out of respect for your rank, sir. It would not be seemly for your name to appear on equal terms with my own.’

‘Oh, I see. No, of course not.’

‘In that case, sir, may I ask General Wellesley if he would do me the honour?’

Dalrymple looked up at Arthur. ‘Well, what d’you say?’

Arthur was sorely tempted to refuse. He had had no hand in drafting the terms of the armistice, and some of the clauses were far too generous to the enemy. But if he refused it would only cause further ill will between him and his superior. He nodded, and took the pen offered to him by General Kellerma

‘I must return to General Junot and tell him the good news.’

Dalrymple and Arthur rose to their feet and exchanged handshakes with the French officer before Kellerma

A week later General Junot surrendered the Portuguese capital to the British. Dalrymple, reinforced by Sir John Moore and another fifteen thousand troops, moved south to occupy the city. There was a brief celebration in the streets as the inhabitants cheered the departure of the French garrison, but joy soon turned to disbelief and anger when it became apparent that the ‘property’ that the enemy were taking with them, with British consent, included gold and silver plate from Lisbon’s churches and other loot taken from the royal palaces and homes of the wealthy. It was a bad business, and Arthur, who had signed the armistice, began to dread the ma

The difficult situation was resolved for him late one afternoon in the middle of September when a message arrived from London. Somerset brought the despatch to Arthur’s office in the Lisbon house he was renting, where he had been reading through the latest correspondence from home. His brother William was full of news of the public outcry over the armistice, and his letter included a newspaper clipping that referred to Dalrymple, Burrard and Arthur himself as cowardly curs. William urged his brother to seek leave and return to London to clear his name.

Arthur looked up as Somerset rapped loudly on the door frame.

‘Come in!’

Somerset crossed the room, emerged on to the balcony and held out a sealed letter. ‘From Castlereagh, sir.’