Even though Captain Pakenham accepted Arthur’s explanation, he was understandably angry about Richard’s role in the affair. Kitty’s brother was less forgiving and refused to have anything further to do with the Wesley family, forbidding Arthur to visit his home, and warning Kitty to steer clear of him.Worse still, the affair had soured Arthur’s relations with Lord Camden and it was clear that there would be no chance of preferment from that quarter for a long time.
Accordingly Arthur swallowed his pride and his bitterness and wrote to Richard to see what his brother could do by way of finding him a field command, since only a career in the army still lay open to him. The orders came swiftly. Lieutenant Colonel Wesley was to rejoin the 33rd regiment of foot in Plymouth where the regiment was preparing for service in the West Indies. Arthur packed his meagre belongings into travel chests, and made his farewells.
He managed to get a message to Kitty through Captain Fenshaw, who was more than happy to convey a note from his soon to be departing rival. They met, late in August, at a small coffee house close to the castle. For the first time in over a week the sky was clear and Dublin was bathed in warm sunshine that raised the spirits of the city’s inhabitants, so that there was a marked contrast between the expressions of the two figures sitting at a table in a corner and those of the other customers, who chatted together in cheerful tones.
‘I’ve no idea how long I will be away this time,’ said Arthur. ‘It may be for some years.’
‘Years?’ Kitty winced. ‘Why so long? The last campaign was over in a matter of months.’
‘I know. But this time it will be different. The government wants to take the war to the French colonies. So it’s going to be a question of subduing one island at a time. That might take much longer than anyone thinks, particularly with conditions as they are in the West Indies.’
‘Conditions?’ Kitty frowned.‘You mean the dangers to health, don’t you? Charles told me about all the diseases: yellow fever, dysentery . . .oh, I don’t want to remember the rest.’ She reached her hand across the table and interlaced her fingers with his. ‘Arthur, promise me you will take care of yourself.’
‘I’ll do my best, Kitty. But in any case I imagine that I won’t be able to see you again for a long time. By then, you will have forgotten me, and be married to someone else. Charles perhaps.’
‘Don’t say such things.’ She looked down and shook her head. ‘I want you.’
‘It would be the height of folly for us to marry as things stand, Kitty. Just know that my feelings for you will never change. Whatever happens. And if I do return one day, having made my fortune, and by some miracle you have not wed, then . . .’
She looked up and forced a smile. ‘I’ll still be here. If you still want me.’
Arthur felt a raw flood of emotion fill his heart, only to turn to a terrible aching agony at the cruel knowledge that in a short time they would be parted, perhaps for ever.
‘Kitty. On my life, I will still want you. I promise.’
Chapter 14
December, 1795
It was a fine, clear winter day and the harbour at Southampton was filled with shipping.The masts, spars and rigging looked like a vast, intricate spiderweb from where Arthur observed the scene from the main quay. In amongst the coasters and small trading vessels were the large Indiamen flying the East India Company’s flag. Further out lay the warships of the Royal Navy, from small sloops up to the stately ships of the line. The vessels were anchored to one side of the channel as several ships, taking advantage of a favourable breeze, glided into Southampton, passing those setting sail for other destinations. Their topsails were sheeted home and bulged as they filled under the pressure of the wind, canting the vessels gently to leeward.
The quay was filled with men unloading cargo from the merchant ships, and others loading supplies and equipment aboard the troopships berthed near the naval yard. Arthur watched as his officers and sergeants marshalled the red-coated men of his regiment, the 33rd Foot, and marched them up the ramps on to the decks of the vessels that would be their cramped quarters for the next few months. The harsh shouts of the sergeants competed with the breeze singing through the rigging and the shrill cacophony of seagulls. Once the last of the men were aboard, Arthur turned away and made his way back to his lodgings at the Crown and Anchor inn to settle his personal affairs before joining his men. If the wind direction remained constant, the regiment would sail on the noon tide of the following day. So he worked hard to complete the remaining tasks before he quit England.
He still owed the family’s land agent over a thousand pounds and had arranged for his mother, Lady Anne Wesley, to guarantee the debt until he should return from foreign service to repay it. He owed Richard considerably more once he had reckoned up all the loans advanced to him by his brother to purchase commissions and pay for the costs of his election to the seat at Trim. Lastly, he wrote a final letter to Kitty, in which he set down his intention to make a name and a fortune for himself, and should she still be unmarried on his return to honour his pledge to marry her. Arthur had given much thought to this letter. Time could change a man’s feelings, yet he felt sure enough of the permanent nature of his love for Kitty to commit himself to her in writing.
He signed the letter, folded it carefully, wrote Kitty’s name and address on the front and then sealed it. Then he sat back in his seat and poured himself a large glass of Madeira. It was dusk and the light was fading.The rooms he had rented at the Crown and Anchor were comfortable enough, but the windows were small and stained and looked down into the coach yard. Not that there had been a moment to contemplate a view had there been one.
As soon as Arthur had arrived in Southampton he had been overwhelmed by the host of tasks demanding his attention. He had to ensure that the regiment was fully equipped for the coming campaign, and that all the men with families had made arrangements for a proportion of their pay to be sent directly to their wives. Wills had to be written and countersigned before being sent back to the battalion’s depot. A small number of men were in jail for sundry offences and debts and Arthur had had to humbly request their release, or cajole the local magistrates into believing that it was their patriotic duty to return the miscreants to their colours so that they could atone for their sins by fighting for King and country. One of his officers had run up a large gambling debt which Arthur had borrowed money to pay off rather than lose the young man’s services. The debt would be recouped from his pay, eventually. The letter to Kitty had been the final task, and one that had been put off until there were no lingering distractions to interfere with the composition of what might well be his last message to her.
Now it was finished, and there was nothing more to do. As soon as the wind was favourable Arthur would board his ship and sail away from England. As he sipped, sparingly, from his glass Arthur realised how tired he was. Frantic weeks of activity had taken their toll and he felt drained of energy. His head was pounding and his body ached. He rose from his seat wearily and undressed. Leaving his clothes hanging over the back of his chair, he climbed into his bed and closed his eyes.
He woke early, cold and shivering. Outside the wind moaned across the roofs of the port and when Arthur made his way down to the quay it was clear that a gale was blowing directly up the channel. The weather remained foul for several more days and while the men sat aboard their ships, struggling to find their sea legs, Arthur spent his time walking and riding along the shores of the Solent, watching and waiting for the shift in the wind that would make it possible for the convoy to leave Southampton. In the evenings he returned to his room to read the books he had bought about the West Indies. He had also borrowed some French newspapers from the harbour master so that he might learn the latest news of the conflict in Europe. As he perused the articles he once again came across the name of Bonaparte. It seemed that France’s hero of Toulon had now added to his laurels by crushing a royalist uprising in Paris and had been promoted to full general. Arthur sighed wearily. It seemed that luck favoured some men far more than others. While this man Bonaparte seemed to have every good fortune strewn in his path, every possible obstacle was being placed between Arthur and any measure of success. Much as he abhorred the revolution in France and all that it stood for, he could not help feeling envious of Bonaparte’s situation. One day perhaps Arthur’s luck would change, and he would strive to match, and possibly outdo, the achievements of men such as General Bonaparte.