‘Yes, sire.’ Berthier saluted and swung himself on to his horse to gallop back towards headquarters.
As they watched, the Austrian column began to deploy into line facing the hurriedly forming Grand Army.Then, regiment by regiment, the enemy lowered their weapons to the ground and stood to attention before the astonished eyes of the French soldiers. A large party of officers detached themselves from the Austrian lines and rode slowly towards the French pickets. They were quickly passed through and directed towards the headquarters of the Grand Army.
‘Come on!’ Napoleon ordered. Leading Marshal Lannes, he hurried back to his horse and climbed into the saddle and spurred his mount into a gallop. By the time they reached headquarters Berthier had issued orders for the formation of a guard of honour and the grenadiers of the Old Guard were hurriedly assembling either side of the gravel drive that led up to the country house. In their dress uniforms and towering bearskins the tough veterans looked as formidable as any men in Europe and Napoleon regarded them with pride as he joined the officers gathering in front of the entrance to receive the Austrians.
Just as the last men hurried into position there was a distant clatter of hooves and then Napoleon saw the first of the enemy’s officers swing into the drive. They trotted forward between the still lines of the grenadiers. Then an order was barked out and the French soldiers presented arms in one fluid movement that momentarily startled the Austrians. They continued forward, reining in a short distance from Napoleon and his staff. Their leader, wearing a glittering uniform bedecked with ribbons and medals, dismounted and approached. He was a thin man with a gaunt expression, made worse still by exhaustion. He paused as he scanned the French officers, until his gaze rested on Napoleon.With a weary sigh he drew his sword with a metallic rasp and held the hilt out horizontally as he advanced the final few steps with bowed head.
‘Emperor Napoleon, I have come to surrender my army to you.’
‘And you are?’ Napoleon asked casually, with an amused glint in his eyes.
The Austrian glanced up. ‘Sire, I am the unhappy General Mack.’
Napoleon accepted the sword, and handed it to Berthier. ‘I accept your surrender. Please permit me to entertain you and your officers here, while arrangements are made to take your army prisoner. How many men do you have, General?’
General Mack swallowed bitterly before he replied. ‘Over twenty-seven thousand souls.’
There was an excited muttering amongst Napoleon’s officers before he turned and shot them a withering glare and they fell silent at once.
‘Marshal Lannes, see to our guests.’
Lannes grinned. ‘It will be a pleasure, sire.’
Mack gave the order for his companions to dismount and as their horses were led away by French grooms the Austrian officers filed miserably through the entrance of the country house. Napoleon watched them for a moment, then turned to Berthier with a satisfied expression.
‘The first half of the campaign is over. Now comes the time to turn our might against the remnants of the Austrians, and their Russian friends.’
Chapter 10
In the weeks that followed his return to Britain Arthur gradually renewed his former friendships and other contacts in the capital.Yet at the back of his mind there was always the thought of Kitty, still living in Dublin, as far as he knew. Much as he longed to see her again, he put off writing to her over and over, telling himself that he was too busy for such matters at present. Amid the whirl and glitter of the capital’s social circles Arthur was flattered by the attention of women of quality, although he also spent many evenings in the clubs and drinking dens where he enjoyed the company of courtesans.Yet none of them excited his ardour as much as the mere thought of Kitty. Accordingly, he tried to occupy his mind with other matters.
It was vital that he fully understood the social and political terrain across which the Wellesleys would fight to secure their place at the centre of Britain’s affairs. His older brother, William, was a member of the House of Commons and proved a useful guide to the complex relations between the various factions. In the eleven years since they had last seen each other William had aged poorly. He was growing stout, and his hair was streaked with grey. More disheartening still was the degree to which William had become so acclimatised to politics that he had come to see it as the means to all ends, and he vigorously encouraged his younger brother to align himself with the rising faction of Lord Buckingham.
One morning, the two brothers were sitting in the parlour of their mother’s house as the first wet, windy days of winter closed in over London. Icy rain pattered against the windows and ran down the glass in dull streaks that blurred the details of the street outside. A servant had made up a fire, but even though the coals glowed brightly in the grate Arthur shivered and pulled his plain coat more tightly about his shoulders.
‘There was a time I looked forward to returning to Britain,’ he said quietly. ‘I thought that anything was better than enduring another summer in India. But now? By God, I’d give rank, title and fortune to be back in Mysore. Now that was passing comfortable.’
William smiled faintly. ‘Ah, yes. I’d heard that you and Richard were living like kings amongst the natives.What was the name of that palace you were using?’ He frowned as he tried to recall. ‘Dowley something?’
‘The Dowlut Baugh,’ Arthur replied.‘And it was a summer residence of Tipoo Sultan, not his palace.You really shouldn’t believe everything you hear in London, brother.’
‘I suppose not, but there were stories of the, ah, excesses of opulence that Richard bestowed on himself while he was Governor General. Rumour has it that you did not do so badly out of the situation either.’
‘Stories, William. That’s all. Just stories.’
William pursed his lips. ‘I hope so, for all our sakes. As long as Richard can explain himself to the satisfaction of Parliament when he returns.’
‘He will. And I shall back him to the hilt, as will you and the rest of the family.’
