Sir William did not reply at once, recognizing in this otherwise insignificant-looking envoy a man with a firm grasp of the principles of strategy. He chose his next words very carefully. ‘Mr Forbes, have you represented these views to London?’
‘I have.’
‘Did you propose any alternative?’
‘In very general terms, yes. In truth, Sir William, I cannot own to these designs being mine, only the sentiment of unease which underlies them. Colonel Norris has upon his staff a Major Hervey’ – he did not see the slight change in Sir William’s countenance, and if he had, he would not have been able to determine what it portended – ‘a very enterprising officer who has made a personal reconnaissance of the frontier at Elvas, and has consulted with the Portuguese authorities there. He is of the firm opinion that a forward deployment of British troops would be the most expedient from every point of view.’
Sir William took a deep breath, thumped at his stomach two or three times, and took out the pillbox again. ‘Except, Mr Forbes, from the point of view of withdrawal in the event of serious reverse!’
The chargé looked anxious at the mention of failure.
‘Oh, I do not mean a reverse to our own men, but to the regent’s forces.’
Still the chargé said nothing.
‘It is a contingency that must be considered, Forbes.’
‘Yes, of course, Sir William. And I confess I do not know what Major Hervey’s thoughts on that are, though I imagine he weighed them carefully.’
‘I don’t doubt it, Forbes. Indeed, I know he has,’ Sir William huffed. ‘We are well acquainted with Major Hervey’s estimate and plan. I believe I have three copies of it, by the courtesy of his friends at the Horse Guards, Mr Canning’s own office and the Duke of Wellington himself.’ He did not say that this latter had come to the duke by way of Lady Katherine Greville.
‘Ah yes,’ replied Forbes, somewhat abashed. But he was determined to press his case, not least since Sir William now appeared to him to be uncommonly open to debate. Indeed, he found it curious to meet with such equanimity in a lieutenant-general when a mere colonel had been so intransigent. ‘Sir William, since the end of last month there have been Miguelite incursions the length of the country. By all accounts even Oporto has been harried, and there are so-called juntas of regency in the name of “King” Miguel. These Miguelites are not so many, however, or else they would by now have been showing themselves this side of the Tagus. And their Spanish seconds have neither the stomach nor the means for a true fight. But let them advance without check to Torres Vedras, and nine parts of the country will be theirs. All they need then do, as I indicated before, is sit where Marshal Masséna once did.’ He held up a hand to stay Sir William’s point. ‘Yes, well do I know that Masséna had to raise the siege and quit the country before long. But then, he could not expect a rising in Lisbon. With a Miguelite army camped in front of the lines, and another marching on them from Lisbon, what, then, would be the purpose of the forts? They might protect His Majesty’s regiments, and such of the regent’s as might be induced to follow, but they would not be defending Lisbon. And from the state of the forts as I have seen them, I would not wager short odds on their protecting the occupants either. Nor is there any prospect of adequate repair, for there is not the money, even if there were the time.’
Sir William looked thoughtful. ‘I know what we heard at the regent’s just now, but what is your own intelligence?’
In truth, the chargé’s intelligence was little, but it was inevitably more recent than anything London might provide. ‘I received a communication from the ambassador in Madrid this very morning. He has been obliged to withdraw from the court in Madrid, which is not a gesture of a power disposed to be friendly. And he appeared not to know that a British force was being sent here, so we may suppose the Spanish court does not either. We may suppose, therefore, that the Spaniards will give the Miguelistas no less succour than hitherto.’
Sir William looked disappointed. ‘Then we shall proceed blind in respect of their true intentions, unless the minister – Senhor Saldanha? – is better served with intelligence than the court. But as to Torres Vedras—’
The carriage swung into the courtyard of the chargé’s residence, interrupting Sir William in the delivery of his judgement. It pulled up sharp, footmen opened the doors, and the two men stepped down.
As they did so, Colonel Norris appeared from inside the residence. Hatless, he bowed.
‘Good day, Sir William,’ he said briskly.
Sir William bowed by return. ‘Good day, Norris.’
The chargé thought the reply a shade curt, but he was unused to the company of military men, so not disposed to think much of it. ‘You are come very much apropos, Colonel Norris,’ he said as they went inside. ‘We were speaking of Torres Vedras.’
Colonel Norris quickened. ‘Indeed? I am just come from the ministry. We were discussing the same.’
Sir William turned, to see his staff alighting. ‘Colonel Ash, join us if you please.’
A green-jacketed colonel stepped forward. ‘General!’ He nodded to Colonel Norris, not so much a greeting of recognition as acknowledgement.
‘I think we will have this out here, now, before we go to the ministry.’
‘Very good, General.’ Colonel Ash looked at the chargé.
‘My library; this way, Sir William.’
The chargé led them to the room from which he conducted the business of the legation. It was not large, but it faced south and there was a fire burning.
‘Perhaps we may sit at this table?’ He called for coffee.
Sir William was not obliged by ceremony any longer. As soon as they were seated, he began. ‘Colonel Norris, I have what I believe are your preliminary recommendations.’ He held up a manuscript copy. ‘Do you have anything to add before we address them?’
‘No, Sir William, other than that I now have the detailed estimates for the restoration of the forts.’
Sir William held Colonel Norris’s gaze.
‘The first estimates were in my judgement too imprecise. We have been calculating them afresh these past three weeks, else I would have sent them to London.’
‘Very well, and what is the precise cost?’
‘In sterling, six hundred and fourteen thousand.’
Sir William blinked.
‘And two hundred and twenty thousand for their equipping and provisioning.’
Sir William looked at the chargé, who said nothing. ‘By my understanding that is three times their original cost, Norris.’
‘Yes, Sir William, but the lines are in poor repair.’
‘And the Portuguese are able to find such a sum?’
‘I do not know, Sir William. The ministry has yet to present the estimates to the Cortes.’
Sir William looked at the chargé again.
This was Mr Forbes’s area of expertise, and he at last felt confident in expressing his opinion. ‘I know the figure to be beyond the country’s immediate means, and that it does not include any element of compensation to those whose industry and livelihood would be interrupted. I am told that the regent would look to a subsidy from England.’
Sir William was puzzled. ‘Then the authorities are of the opinion that the lines should be put into proper repair?’
The chargé did not hesitate. ‘I did not say that, Sir William. The war minister’s opinion, Senhor Saldanha’s, is that if it were a condition of intervention on our part then he would agree to it and seek to raise the money – principally, as I said, by requesting a subsidy from London, but also in loans, although I have to say that I do not imagine credit will be easy to come by, in the circumstances.’