‘Hervey,’ began Sir Edward, sitting down in a rickety old carver and pulling the spurs from his heel-boxes. ‘What thoughts do you have of events?’
Hervey had come to recognize the deliberate ellipsis in his troopleader’s manner of speaking. It did not appear studied, or affected, neither did it mark any vagueness of thought. Rather, it seemed the means of encouragement, like the good rough-rider letting out the rope inch by inch, so that the young horse did not take fright – or advantage – at the sudden discovery of the freedom to do what it liked. But Hervey would not think over-carefully of his response, this time trying to imagine which ‘event’ Sir Edward considered proper for a cornet to speak of. He answered frankly. ‘I am astonished by the audacity of the advance to Oporto after so short a time. Our movements are so much bolder than before.’
Sir Edward nodded, thoughtfully. In the saddle his fine features could look severe, so intense as to seem almost cruel, yet at other times he looked like a contented man surveying his acres from astride his favourite hunter. This morning, off-parade, at leisure almost, he wanted only spectacles to complete the resemblance to a bookish squire. ‘Do you consider there is a chance we will pay for such audacity in the way we did before?’
‘You mean as we had to retreat to Corunna, Sir Edward?’
Sir Edward inclined his head.
Hervey thought a little. ‘We have the sea as our left flank, we do not advance deep into the country, we advance against an enemy who cannot be rapidly reinforced, the Portuguese are more reliable allies than were the Spanish, and it is May not December.’
Sir Edward quickened. Hervey’s reply was not only succinct, it was almost complete. ‘Admirable. Anything else? Anything to our disadvantage?’
Hervey thought a little more. ‘They say the infantry is not as good as Sir John Moore’s, perhaps?’
‘They do. There are too many second battalions, for sure, and very green. Do you believe our general will be able to shape them as Moore did?’
Hervey was doubly intrigued. This was a rare exchange indeed, a captain asking a cornet his opinion of the commander-in-chief, and he wondered to what it tended. ‘Sir John Moore had many months in England to shape his, Sir Edward. I understand Sir Arthur Wellesley has not had that advantage.’
‘Do you consider that he possesses other advantages over Moore?’
Hervey’s brow furrowed. These were deep waters indeed for a cornet, and in truth he knew little of either man. But he knew that if Sir John Moore had not been killed in his hour of victory they would not be having this conversation now, for, by all accounts, Moore would have been hauled before parliament to answer for the retreat. ‘Truly, I cannot say, Sir Edward. Only that I recall as much praise for Sir John Moore when first we landed in Portugal as now there is for Sir Arthur Wellesley.’
Sir Edward nodded. ‘You are wise to be acquainted with that, Hervey. The fact is that Moore was incomparably the better soldier, but I believe Wellesley will prove much the greater commander-in-chief.’ He leaned back and began buffing a spur on his breeches. ‘This business here in the Peninsula: it is not so much the fighting a man must do – we may suppose there are generals enough who could do that tolerably well; recollect Hope at Corunna when Moore was shot – it is dealing with the politicos, and the allies. Wellesley will handle London right enough, and his brother will guard his back there, and he’s not fool enough to trust the allies – Spanish or Portuguese for that matter – so that he ends up hazarding things as Moore did. We’ll not see brilliance, as we did with Moore, but I believe we may trust to consummate skill in so far as strategy is concerned. That, and sure administration. It will just take so much longer with Wellesley, that is all.’
‘I do not believe I have been able to contemplate that, Sir Edward.’
‘Indeed not. Of course not. But you must contemplate the long point we’re beginning. It will be no bolting Reynard and running him fast to the kill. Believe me, Hervey, these French marshals will show us more foxery than you’d see in a dozen seasons in Leicestershire!’
Hervey thought he was beginning to grasp the import, but he was troubled. Did Sir Edward have concerns that one of his cornets – he – might not have the stomach (or the horse, so to speak) for the long point? ‘I did not think we would see England for a year, at least, Sir Edward.’
‘A year? Mm.’ It was not unreasonable of his cornet to speak of a year: His Majesty’s armies did not campaign abroad much longer, as a rule. But Sir Edward shook his head. ‘I will speak plainly. You have done well these past days, as I observed you did in Spain. It would not do if you weren’t to gain some . . . responsibility in this war. Both you and the service would be ill served. You are but eighteen: you may imagine that I do not have this interview with every cornet.’
Hervey, warmed as if he had just swallowed fine brandy, nodded. ‘Thank you, Sir Edward.’
‘No need to thank me, Hervey. I’m giving you nothing but counsel, and that is my duty. In any case, you may not like what follows. You must know that you can have no advancement in a cavalry regiment unless you are prepared for a very considerable outlay. In the infantry it would be different: there is much more free promotion.’
Hervey knew precisely what he meant. More officers were killed in the infantry.
‘And there is more opportunity for distinction there, and consequently for merit promotion.’
Again, Hervey perfectly understood. If one survived in the ranks of red, and stood in the right place, there was the chance that a senior officer might notice.
‘I consider that you should buy into the infantry, Hervey. You would have a company in no time. This war will last very much longer than a year – five years more, I’d wager. You might even have a major’s brevet at the end of it.’
Hervey felt his stomach tighten. Was his troop-leader saying that he was not cut out for the regiment? Was he trying to warn him off, kindly? But if he were, why now? Why not in England when the prospect of campaigning had been remote?
Sir Edward saw the dismay. ‘The fact is, Hervey, you will scarce have opportunity for distinction in the cavalry. Ours, in the end, is a business unobserved. Not the charge, but that is an infrequent sort of affair, believe me. You saw for yourself in Spain. And if you are bent on long service, as I perceive you are, then you shall have to seek your advantage wheresoever it may be.’