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It was, Sir William considered, a deuced tricky state of affairs into which he was come. It did his temper, and his dyspepsy, no good whatever. He only hoped that people here in Lisbon saw things clearly.

‘Damn it, gentlemen! Can you not keep the water from inside the barge?’ he barked suddenly, as more Tagus spray fell in his lap.

The midshipman touched his hat to his choleric passenger. They were, thank God, done with pulling, anyway. ‘Boat your oars!’

He brought the barge smoothly alongside the landing, stood up and held out a hand. Lieutenant-General Sir William Clinton, the advance party in person of England’s first expedition to the Continent in a dozen years, was about to make his own firstfooting on Portuguese soil.

Ill tempered though he may be, the symbolism of the outstretched hand was not lost on Sir William. There was one thing of which he was certain – that a British army in the Peninsula must never be out of contact with the Royal Navy. That would be his first and settled principle. Then, if there came that ‘scene of desolation which no man can contemplate without horror’, he would at least be able to evacuate his force with honour. He wanted nothing of the retreat to Corunna.

A guard of honour from the Guarda Real da Polícia presented arms, the late-morning sun picking out the gold lace and the red facings of the blue uniforms. An official from the court bid Sir William formal welcome, presented Mr Forbes, chargé d’affaires at the British legation, and then conducted him briskly to the carriages and escort of light dragoons. It was all very practised, observed Sir William, comme il faut yet matter-of-fact, and entirely without sign of the exigency which caused him to be here.

The cortège set off without further ceremony, the court official, the chargé and Sir William in the first carriage, the military staff in the two following. The drive to the Palácio Cor de Rosa would be but a mile, although a frustrating mile, for Sir William had hoped for a confidential word with the chargé. The diplomatic usages did not permit of it, however, so he had to content himself with the official’s polite enquiries about the passage from England and his previous acquaintance with the country, and with looking out of the windows and making appreciative remarks, pretending to as much ease as he could.

When the Palácio Cor de Rosa came into view, he expressed delight with its faded pink façade, though in truth he thought it a pleasing rather than a magnificent aspect, judging it to be a house the size of Kensington Palace, a place to take tea rather than to receive ambassadors. The official explained that, for the present, the regent considered it better to be at a certain remove from the city.

There was more splendid ceremony, however, for another guard of honour awaited his inspection in the forecourt. Halberdiers of the Archeiro do Guarda Real, not long returned from self-imposed exile in Brazil, resplendent in scarlet coats, blue velvet and gold and silver lace, stood to distinctly grand attention. Sir William removed his hat and bowed, for these were gentlemen-at-arms. Then the lord chamberlain conducted him to an ante-room, its mirrors and gilding as fine as any he had seen, and here at last, with the officials of the court withdrawn, he was able to speak with the chargé d’affaires.

‘Where is Colonel Norris?’ he asked as the door was closed, taking a pillbox from his pocket and swallowing a dose of calomel. ‘I had imagined he would be here. Indeed, I expected he would be at the landing.’

The chargé d’affaires spoke quietly, though they were alone except for a footman. ‘It was his intention to be here, Sir William, but to be frank I wished first to have words with you privately. I confess Colonel Norris and I do not see eye to eye in respect of how the army is to be used. And since I have no expertise in these matters I felt I must talk directly with you.’

‘Indeed, sir?’ Sir William wondered at the presumption, and his dyspepsy made it plain.

Mr Forbes was not dismayed. ‘There is scarce time to rehearse the disagreements before the audience with the regent, Sir William. We shall have opportunity when we drive to the legation. For the audience itself, I have taken it upon myself to suggest that it would be better to conduct matters in our respective languages rather than in French.’

Sir William nodded. ‘I am obliged, Mr Forbes.’

‘And though the regent will undoubtedly press you as to intentions, I think it better to defer to the pending discussions with the minister for war.’

‘I am happy to follow your lead in this respect.’

‘And if I may add, perhaps you might reassure Her Highness as to the size of your force?’

‘Indeed I shall. The number is in excess of five thousand, of mixed arms, including two battalions of Guards. They will arrive in a few days. And there will remain a presence of one ship-of-the-line and two frigates for as long as may be.’

Mr Forbes nodded appreciatively.

When they left the palace, an hour later, the chargé d’affaires was more at ease. ‘I thought the princess regent pressed you hard on your discretion in the employment of your force, Sir William. I compliment you on your evasion. These are early days, and it is as well that the insurgents do not know what to expect. I am afraid I would not give a farthing for the privacy of anything divulged in that place at present.’

‘Well, Mr Forbes,’ replied Sir William, taking another calomel pill, ‘I should myself prefer a more certain understanding of the limitation. You will have seen the princess regent’s look of satisfaction when I informed her that my orders were to co-operate with her forces in order to drive out the enemy. I imagine she believes there is an enemy to be driven from the capital.’

‘It may come to that, Sir William, yes. But the minister for war, Senhor Saldanha, will be much more pressing in his questions, I assure you.’

‘He may press me all he likes, Forbes, but he is unlikely to learn more than the regent.’ He made to pocket the pillbox again, thought better of it, and took another calomel. ‘But tell me now, what are these misgivings of yours concerning Colonel Norris? I am acquainted with his work from his previous appointment, and I know him as a most diligent and scientific officer.’

The chargé raised his hands. ‘Sir William, I have no grounds for complaint in that regard, I assure you. Put very simply – and I repeat that I am all too unread in these matters – Colonel Norris’s opinion is that the lines of Torres Vedras should be the limit of intervention. He wishes to restore the lines to what they were during the time of the Duke of Wellington’s occupation.’

Sir William’s brow furrowed. ‘There is prudence in that, is there not? It was the duke’s opinion that, since the whole of Portugal is border with Spain, the country is indefensible, yet if Lisbon is held then the country is unconquered. Lisbon was saved by those lines, I rather think.’

The chargé knew it was presumption, indeed, to bandy strategy with a lieutenant-general, and he wondered at Sir William’s forbearance. Yet he was determined to understand why his own opinion was so ill found. Not just his opinion, but that of one of Colonel Norris’s own staff, who, he understood, was possessed of wide experience and enjoyed the confidence of the Duke of Wellington himself. ‘You see, Sir William, if the Miguelites are allowed to run free up to the lines of Torres Vedras, they may gather such . . . momentum that it might provoke an uprising in Lisbon. In which case, fighting front and rear, a force might be overwhelmed, defeated . . . destroyed even. Especially since, in those circumstances, and given the orders under which the force is sent here, resistance might in fact be beyond your remit.’