The Fields of Death - Scarrow Simon - Страница 46
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Somerset turned to examine the clear ground beyond.‘Then we will be forced to fall back, sir.’
‘Of course we will.’
Somerset looked at his commander with a surprised expression.‘Was that always your plan, sir? Then why face the enemy here?’
‘I felt it would do our men good to see the French run. Certainly, it will have stiffened the backs of our Portuguese troops, eh?’ Arthur smiled.‘Not to mention shaken the confidence of Massйna and his army.’
Somerset pursed his lips and nodded as he turned to watch the Light Division pursuing the broken enemy columns down the slope. Craufurd let his men continue for some distance before he had the recall sounded. Such was the ferocious discipline of their commander that his men responded to the trumpet’s shrill notes at once, and began to climb back towards the crest where they re-formed their companies in high spirits, slapping each other on the arm, and jeering after the enemy, until their sergeants shouted at them to still their tongues and stand to attention.
For the rest of the day Arthur watched the French lines at the bottom of the ridge, but there was no further attempt to attack. Instead he observed a column begin snaking away to his left and knew that his position on the ridge would have to be abandoned. He turned to Somerset.
‘Pass the word to the army. We fall back across the Mondego and march towards the lines of Torres Vedras.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Arthur detected a note of disappointment in Somerset’s response and offered him a smile.‘We have done our work here.’ He gestured towards the French bodies littering the slope.‘Massйna’s nose has been bloodied, and there’s something else.’
‘Sir?’
Arthur’s smiled faded a little. ‘Now the newspapers in London will have proof that the army has the measure of the French. There is no question that, man for man, we have the advantage.’
‘And yet we must retreat, sir.’
‘Retreat? Yes, that is how some will see it. But I am content to give ground to Massйna for now. He will be brought to a halt before our defences, and there he will starve, until he is forced to retreat.’ Arthur was silent for a moment before he nodded with satisfaction. ‘I have not the slightest doubt that it is now only a question of time before the tide turns in our favour.’
Chapter 17
Lisbon, January 1811
‘Amateur dramatics?’ Arthur frowned. ‘What the devil is Massйna playing at?’
He sat back in his chair by the fireplace and folded his hands together, tapping his index fingers against his lips as he considered the news Somerset had brought him from one of the outposts on the first line of defences. ‘Tell me again, what exactly did Massйna’s officer have to say?’
Somerset was standing just inside the door to the office, and he quickly recalled the note he had received. ‘Massйna conveyed an invitation to our officers to attend a performance of Candide being staged at Marshal Massйna’s headquarters in five days’ time. Any of our gentlemen who accept are assured of free passage through the French lines.’
‘By God.’ Arthur shook his head. ‘One could be forgiven for thinking that England and France had been at war for the best part of eighteen years.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Somerset nodded, used by now to his superior’s sense of irony. ‘Would you like me to send orders to decline the invitation?’
Arthur thought for a moment. There had already been some criticism of his actions following the battle at Busaco. The Times had wondered why the British army had not followed up its victory over Massйna and hounded the French back into Spain. Despite that, Arthur was confident that he had the advantage over the enemy. After one bloody assault on the lines of Torres Vedras the French had been forced to camp on the bare ground before the British defences while Massйna pondered his next move. The French had managed to survive on dwindling rations for the last three months, but soon they would be forced to retreat or starve.
It might not be the most glorious manner of inflicting a reverse on the enemy, Arthur mused, but it was certainly the least costly. He would have to hope that the more enlightened politicians back in England appreciated his strategy and gave him the time and support that he needed to erode and then crush the French forces in the Peninsula.
He lowered his hands and smiled at Somerset. ‘We must indulge Massйna. The longer he remains in Portugal, the more his army will wither. Pass the word to all commands in the first line of the defences that their officers may accept the invitation. I will, however, be expecting full reports from any man who crosses into French lines for social purposes. They are under strict orders not to get drunk and to keep their wits about them. Tell them to keep their eyes and ears open for any information that might be useful to us.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘If there are any further attempts to fraternise then I will need to approve them. Make sure that is understood.’
‘Indeed, sir. And what if our officers should wish to reciprocate?’
Arthur frowned slightly. ‘It would not be wise to allow Massйna’s men to investigate our defences too closely. Tell our gentlemen that they may arrange hunts, dinners and other entertainments, as long as they take place beyond the limits of our front line.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Somerset paused an instant before he continued. ‘Will that be all, sir?’
Arthur nodded, and then tapped his hand on his thigh. ‘Oh, one thing. Have the latest despatches arrived from London yet?’
‘They reached headquarters at noon, sir. I haven’t had a chance to open them. Do you wish me to see to it now?’
‘No, bring them in as they are, then start drafting my orders concerning that invitation from Massйna.’
Somerset bowed his head and left the office. Arthur stared blankly into the hearth for a moment and then laughed drily. ‘A play indeed! Strange fellows, these French.’
He built the fire up while he waited for Somerset to return. Outside, the winter sky was grey over Lisbon, and through the long windows Arthur could see the harbour below, packed with cargo ships plying their trade between the Portuguese capital and their colonies and customers scattered across the world. There was also a convoy of ships from England unloading military supplies for the army. The supplies were welcome enough,Arthur mused, but he needed reinforcements far more urgently. More men, as well as more money. The army’s pay was already three months in arrears, and the debt owed to Portuguese farmers and grain merchants continued to grow. The Portuguese civilians regarded their redcoat guests with guarded enthusiasm. The same ships that brought supplies to the army could just as easily be used to evacuate the soldiers if the French broke through the lines, or the British government lost heart and ordered their army home.
The latter was a very real possibility, Arthur knew. The Prince of Wales and his Whig friends were all for abandoning Portugal, arguing that it was a waste of thinly stretched resources and did little to unseat Bonaparte. The thought made Arthur feel weary and frustrated. While his army held its ground in Portugal, and offered inspiration to the Portuguese and the Spanish, the enemy was obliged to commit over two hundred thousand soldiers in the Peninsula - soldiers who would not be available for Bonaparte to use elsewhere. The constant erosion of his forces by partisans, disease, hunger and battle required a steady flow of replacements, slowly bleeding the enemy to death. It was a long-term strategy, and Arthur prayed that the British government was wise enough to understand its efficacy.
The door to the office opened again and Somerset entered, clutching a thick leather folder under his arm. Arthur nodded to the low table in front of him and Somerset crossed the room to lay the folder down. Flipping it open, he cleared his throat and briefly summarised the contents.
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