To-day and to-morrow we dine fourteen. Your father was at the House
till past five yesterday morning. However, he stole an hour for Mrs
Bankes's.
Mrs Bankes, the wife of the M.P. for Corfe Castle, [9] presumably gave this successful party for her two daughters, one of whom Lord Broughton, writing a few years later, describes as "lively and entertaining, very lovely and very clever, but a little odd." This latter characteristic appears to have been shared by her father, for various stories of his absent-mindedness have survived, and one mentioned by the same correspondent was often subsequently quoted with peculiar zest by his large circle of acquaintance. When Chantrey was thinking of a design for Satan, Mr Bankes, in the presence of a grave and learned assembly, volunteered the following unexpected recommendation: "My dear Chantrey, you had better choose some part of Satan's history and so make your task more easy—take, for instance, his conflict with sin and death!" The shout of laughter with which this unsolicited advice was received completely mystified Mr Bankes, who, for some time could not be persuaded that he had made any inappropriate suggestion. Nevertheless both he and his wife enjoyed exceptional popularity, and their parties were appreciated far more than the next entertainment referred to by Mrs Stanhope:—
June 20th.
Lady Dartmouth gives a breakfast at Blackheath this morning, the heat and dust will be dreadful. To-night we expect to be amused at the Argyle Rooms, as those who choose may go in masks. Lady Harrington goes nowhere, and the Marquis almost lives here.
Meanwhile the news from the continent was again calculated to arrest the attention of the most frivolous amongst the gay world of London. Events were assuming a more threatening aspect. The long-protracted Peninsular war had begun; but Sir Arthur Wellesley, dispatched to the relief of Portugal, three weeks after landing defeated Junot in a decisive victory at Roliga, on August 17th, 1808. Had he then pushed on, as it was said he wished to do, the whole French army must have surrendered; but his superior officers, Sir Harry Burrard and Sir Hugh Dalrymple, who landed on the two succeeding days, forbade all pursuit, and, it was asserted, obliged Wellesley to sign with them the pitiful Convention of Cintra, which allowed the French army to evacuate Portugal unharmed, and to be carried on British ships back to France. Junot admitted frankly that his men would have capitulated had they been pursued but two miles by the English, and so great was the indignation roused in England by the news of this fiasco, that the three generals demanded and obtained a court- martial. All were acquitted; but Wellesley, who had denounced the Convention vehemently before the Court, was instantly employed again, an honour which was denied to his superior officers. Hence the refrain, which became a favourite at the time.
Sir Arthur and Sir Harry, Sir Harry and Sir Hew,
Doodle, doodle, doodle, cock a doodle doo!
Sir Arthur was a gallant knight, but for the other two
Doodle, doodle, doodle, cock a doodle doo!
Some years afterwards, with regard to this famous occurrence, John
Stanhope wrote in his journal—
I regret that I did not at the time dwell at a greater length upon the Convention of Cintra…. That Convention and even the battle of Vimiera, at one time the theme of every tongue, are effaced from the memory of even us their contemporaries by the more brilliant achievements of the British army—by successes which have blotted out all recollections of former errors. I can scarcely recall to my mind the arguments that were used for and against that Convention by those who were present at the battle; but the feeling against it in England was so strong, that, strange as it may appear in these days, at a Race Ball at Carlisle where I accompanied my father, then Member for that City, when the Steward, Sir James Graham, gave the health of Sir Arthur Wellesley, an officer rose and declared that he would not drink the health of a General who had disgraced England.
That Sir Arthur Wellesley was fortunate in throwing the blame from his own shoulders on to his superiors in command, there can be little doubt, as notwithstanding the assertion of his friends, it is not possible to consider the signature of such a man in the situation that he then held, as a mere matter of official duty.
If a General is superseded in his command in the hour of victory he does not become a mere aide-de-camp or secretary to the officer by whom he has been superseded. In conducting a negociation, he stands rather in the position of an ambassador, who, though he may not have full power himself, is still held to be mainly responsible for the treaty that he signs. If Sir Arthur only signed the Convention officially, he ought, for the sake of his own character, at once to have remonstrated openly against all the terms of which he disapproved and which tarnished the splendour of his victory.