Berthier had come to know his commander well enough to realise the question was rhetorical, and he kept his silence as Napoleon continued.
‘We dare not advance without Moreau in support. Yet we cannot remain here and permit the enemy to gather their forces and attack our supply lines . . .’ Napoleon was still for a moment, and then nodded, his decision made. ‘There is only one thing we can do.’
‘Sir?’
‘Offer the Austrians an armistice.’ He turned away from the window. ‘We must buy ourselves some time. But we must not look as if we need the ceasefire. We must be seen to be negotiating from a position of strength. I’ll offer the Austrians a five days’ armistice. Meanwhile we’ll advance and take Leoben. That should put the spur to their thinking. They’ll have to agree to terms then, just to stop us pressing even further into their homeland. Very well, Berthier, send a message to Archduke Charles.’
True to form, the enemy refused to reply at first, but with the fall of Leoben early in April the Austrians accepted the offer, and added that they would not be averse to negotiating a broader treaty. Napoleon delayed his response, still hoping for word that Moreau was closing in from the north. Finally, a messenger arrived from the Directory in Paris. Moreau had not even begun his advance. Worse still, there was news of uprisings in Tyrol and Venice where the people had seized a French ship and slaughtered its crew. Napoleon’s full fury was directed at Moreau, and the Directory who had failed to make Moreau fulfil his part of the plan. It almost felt as if they had conspired against Napoleon, fearful of the public acclaim he would have won for capturing the enemy capital. As it was, he had no choice; he needed peace.
So he assented to the Austrian offer and sent them his terms. Austria was to cede Belgium to France, permit France to occupy the left bank of the Rhine and recognise the Cisalpine republic of Milan, Bologna and Modena. In return France would hand back Venice, Istria and Dalmatia.
For some days there was no reply from the court of the Austrian Emperor, and then on 18 April they sent formal notification that they would sign the preliminary treaty.
Napoleon received the news with far better grace than his chief of staff had anticipated and once they were alone Berthier cleared his throat nervously.
‘What if Paris refuses to endorse the treaty, sir?’
‘They won’t,’ Napoleon replied assuredly.‘France has much to gain from this treaty, and the Directory needs to give the people peace.’
‘Some will say that you have exceeded your authority.’
‘And I will say that the Directory abrogated theirs the moment they failed to see their plan through. I doubt that the people of France, or the army, would stand by and let me be disciplined for bringing a profitable peace.’
‘I suppose not,’ Berthier conceded, surprised at the political turn his commander’s thoughts had taken. This was more than soldierly ambition. But there was an obvious flaw in Napoleon’s peace. Berthier reflected for a moment. Perhaps Napoleon wasn’t as cunning as he had thought.
‘One thing bothers me, sir.’
‘Oh?’
‘This treaty leaves Austria with territory in Italy. It’s hard to believe that there will be no more friction between France and Austria over those lands.’
‘I know.’ Napoleon smiled cynically. ‘My treaty practically guarantees that there will be another war.’ He clenched his fist. ‘And next time, I will seize Vienna.’
Chapter 23
Arthur
Calcutta, February 1797
From the quarterdeck of the Queen Charlotte, anchored half a mile from the shore, the stench of human ordure was overpowering. The sides of the Indiaman were crowded with soldiers curious to have their first sight of the colony. Their excited chatter filled the air and competed with the cries of the beggars swimming in the water around the newly arrived ship. Amongst them, rowing with little regard for the people in the water, were scores of boats offering their services to anyone on board who needed to be transferred to the shore.
On the quarterdeck of the ship stood the paying passengers, equally curious about the new land that lay on either bank of the Hoogley. The river itself was broad and brown and scattered with flotsam, the odd bloated carcass of an animal, and the occasional human. Despite having read as much as he could about India during the six-month voyage round the southern cape, Arthur was shocked by the evident squalor on his first encounter with Calcutta. And he had not even set foot ashore, he reflected grimly. His first instinct was that he should have insisted on a different posting for his regiment. Most of the men of the 33rd Foot had been fed a diet of the most fanciful stories and legends about India. While it was true that a man from even the most humble origins could make a fortune - and a few did - in the employ of the East India Company or in the service of one of the numerous princes who ruled huge swathes of the subcontinent as absolutely as any Caesar, the chances of a man’s surviving the climate and the other risks to health were one in two. Odds that Arthur did not find wholly encouraging, and he was resolved to do his utmost to see that he, and the men of his regiment, looked after their health as diligently as possible.
Six months at sea with little opportunity for exercise had already taken its toll on the fitness of the men of the 33rd, and the poor diet and copious drinking had made many of them stout and red-faced. As soon as he had them on dry land that would have to be remedied, Arthur decided. He turned to beckon to his adjutant, Captain Fitzroy, who was talking animatedly with one of the few female passengers who had been so much the centre of attention in the small closed world of the better class of passenger during the voyage. Fitzroy noticed his superior’s summons on the second attempt. He graciously made his excuses to the lady and hurried across the deck to Arthur. ‘Yes, sir?’
‘I’d be obliged if you secured the services of one of those boatmen. I wish to pay my compliments to the Governor General as soon as possible.’ He indicated the grey granite-like mass of Fort William standing on the eastern shore of the Hoogley. ‘In the meantime, I want our men ashore as quickly as possible.They are to be quartered in the fort.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And do make sure that you negotiate a good price with the boatman,’ Arthur continued. ‘His Majesty’s funds are not infinite.’
Captain Fitzroy grinned. ‘Yes, sir.’
Arthur lowered his voice.‘I’d be obliged if you did not arrange any commission for yourself in the process.We’re here to improve the lot of these people, and to serve our country, not just ourselves.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Fitzroy’s disappointment was evident in his tone and Arthur rather regretted that there was not a hint of shame there. ‘Very well, Fitzroy. Carry on.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The adjutant saluted and strode off to carry out his orders.
Arthur could not help feeling a surge of irritation over the man’s attitude. He was also worried about the magnitude of the task facing him, given his ambitions for India. Already he had written to Richard and gently suggested that he might put himself forward for the appointment of Governor General of India, and that Henry might be persuaded to join them. India might well be the making of the three brothers, if they could meet the challenges facing them. As far as the East India Company was concerned, their purpose was to make money out of the subcontinent. But now that war was being waged between the powers of Europe, it was vital for Britain’s trade that the Company’s possessions were given military protection. It was already clear that one day the Indian colonies would be run by the Crown, rather than private entrepreneurs, just as it was clear to Arthur that it was in the interests of the peoples of the subcontinent that England put an end to their endless wars and brigandage and bring peace and effective governance to India. That was his great ambition, and one he hoped to share with Richard and Henry if they decided to join him. But he was well aware that there were many obstacles between him and the achievement of his aim.