‘I am already proud of you, Arthur.’

He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips. ‘Thank you.’

Arthur drew his head back and stared at her for a moment.Though she still seemed thin and wan he caught an echo of the young Kitty he had known in Ireland many years before and his heart quickened at the thought.

Kitty frowned at his intense expression, then asked tremulously, ‘Arthur, what is it, dear?’

He smiled. ‘Tell the nursemaid to take the boy to his room. I think we should have an early night.’

There was a flash of anxiety in Kitty’s eyes and she bit her lip before replying. ‘Very well, my dearest. But please, be gentle with me. I am still not fully recovered from childbirth.’

‘Of course, my dear. I will be as gentle as I can.’

Chapter 28

Dublin, April 1807

The new Chief Secretary and his small family moved into his official residence in Phoenix Park and while Kitty arranged to take on staff, and set up accounts with suppliers of wines and fine foods in the city,Arthur set to work at once. The parliamentary elections were being held, with the usual excitement, and not a little violence. In Wexford the Tory candidate had challenged his Whig opponent to a duel and shot him dead. It was not appropriate that so disputatious a politician should be allowed to sit in the Commons, and he was duly persuaded by Arthur to step aside for another candidate less disposed to settling political differences with firearms.

On his first day in his new appointment Arthur was introduced to his staff by the senior clerk, an elderly Dubliner named Thomas Stoper. Once Arthur had been escorted down the line of officials, failing to take in more than a handful of names and faces, Stoper showed the new Chief Secretary to his office, a large, panelled room with windows overlooking the courtyard. Arthur’s attention was drawn to a pile of letters lying in a wooden tray on one side of the desk.

‘What’s all that?’

Stoper’s gaze flicked briefly to the letters. ‘They were delivered this morning, sir.’

‘Good God, all of them?’

‘Yes, sir. It is not unusual for the first morning of a new appointment. ’

‘Not unusual?’ Arthur frowned. ‘Then be so good as to tell me what reason could possibly prompt so many letters.’

‘That’s easy enough, sir. I’ll warrant that they are nearly all from people requesting appointments for themselves, or for friends and family.’

‘Well, they can damn well wait then,’ Arthur growled as he took his seat behind the desk and gestured to the chair opposite.‘Please sit down, Stoper.’

The senior clerk arched an eyebrow in brief surprise and then did as he was bid, settling stiffly as he met Arthur’s gaze, his grey eyes steely in his thin face with its pinched cheeks.

‘Now then, Stoper,’ Arthur began briskly. ‘My first duty is to see to the appointments that are in my purview. It is the will of the Lord Lieutenant that the best men are found for the job.That is to be given priority over patronage for its own sake.’

‘Indeed, Sir Arthur?’ Stoper smiled faintly. ‘That would make a most welcome change. If it could be put into effect.’

‘And why should it not be put into effect?’

Stoper eyed his superior closely for a moment before he replied. ‘Forgive me, sir, but it is not the first time that I have heard of such an intention, and, laudable as it is, such an ideal does not long outlive its utterance. Forgive me for being blunt, sir.’

‘You disapprove?’

‘It is not my place to approve or disapprove of such affairs, sir. I merely wish to point out to you that his grace’s intention of appointing on the basis of ability may not translate so easily into reality. I follow the affairs of the London Parliament closely, sir, and I know how finely things are balanced between the various political factions. Every favour counts, and the political capital conferred on a post such as Lord Lieutenant is not to be squandered recklessly. Any more than is the case with your position, sir. It follows that whatever his grace may intend, the reality is that patronage will be exercised according to political expediency rather than the requirements for the offices concerned.’

Arthur stared at the senior clerk in silence.The man had spoken out of turn and had offered opinions on affairs well outside the realms of his particular duties. Yet there was an earnestness about him and Arthur resolved to hear him out.

‘It seems to me that you do not approve of political patronage.’

‘I have no quarrel with it in principle, sir. I know only too well that it is the grease that makes the political axle turn. My concern is with practice, and it is my belief that the situation in Ireland must be handled with extreme circumspection at present.’

‘Really?’ Arthur could readily guess the man’s concerns, but wished to hear them all the same, if only to better gauge Stoper’s capability and breadth of mind. ‘Why do you say that?’

Stoper folded his hands together as he began to explain. ‘Sir, before I continue you should know that I am in my thirtieth year of service at Dublin Castle. I have seen viceroys come and go and most have been good men and well intentioned to those they govern. Some, alas, have not and have tended to think ill of most Irishmen, and all Catholics.You were born here, sir.You know as well as any man the harsh conditions the poorest of this island have to endure. So you might understand the forces that compelled them to rebel back in ninety-eight.’

‘I understand them well enough,’Arthur replied evenly.‘But I do not condone rebellion. Nor treachery. The rebels got what they deserved.’

‘I suppose so, sir. I understand that you were not here at the time. In which case you might not know the full details of the revolt, and its aftermath.’

‘I was told that the rebels were treated harshly enough.’

‘Harshly?’ Stoper replied bitterly. ‘A fine euphemism, if I may say so, sir. The truth of it is that the British army, the militia and the loyalist mobs committed all manner of atrocities. Thousands of prisoners were massacred, hundreds of wounded burned alive in their beds.Then there was the rape and murder of women as well as the cold-blooded cutting down of hundreds of women and children after the battle at Vinegar Hill.’

‘I’ve heard all this,’ Arthur cut in. ‘I have also heard of the atrocities carried out by the rebels.’

‘That’s right, sir. There were some reprisals.’ Stoper nodded and continued carefully.‘It would be surprising if there were not. However, the numbers of casualties suffered by each side speak for themselves. The suppression of the rebels was out of all proportion to the harm they did. And even those of us here in the castle who were loyal servants of the crown were moved by the suffering of the rebels.There are some who still question the treatment of the common people and wonder if it is fair to discriminate against the majority of those living in Ireland solely on the basis of their religion. It is no wonder that the rebellion took over a year to quell. Still less that there was another uprising here on the very streets of Dublin four years ago, after the Act of Union.The reasons for abolishing the Irish Parliament were clear for all to see. A crude attempt to remove any prospect of independence. The members of Parliament were promised Catholic relief measures in exchange for supporting the abolition. Now that his majesty has quashed any prospect of such measures the people feel that they were cheated, sir.’