JК
Sharpes Battle :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 131 из 244Instead, almost in mockery of the enemy's marksmanship, he would stop wherever the terrain offered a view and stare at the town which had possessed a peculiar flat-topped appearance ever since the cathedral and castle on Almeida's hill top had exploded in a massive eruption of stored powder. That explosion had forced the British and Portuguese defenders to surrender the fortress town to the French, who in turn were now ringed by British troops under the command of Sir William Erskine. Erskine's men were under orders to contain the garrison, not capture it, and indeed none of Erskine's guns was large enough to make any impression on the massive star-shaped fortifications. "How many of the scoundrels are in there, Hogan?" Wellington asked, ignoring the fact that Hogan would not have ridden hard across country so early in the day without bringing some important news.
"We think fifteen hundred men, my Lord."
"Ammunition?"
"Plenty."
"And how much food do they have?"
"My sources say two weeks on half rations which probably means they can last a month. The French do seem able to subsist on nothing, my Lord. Might I suggest we move before a gunner lays an accurate sight? And might I claim your Lordship's further attention?"
Wellington did not move. "I am claiming the gunners' whole attention," the General said with heavy humour, "as a means of encouraging them to improve their aim. That way, Hogan, they might relieve me of Erskine." General Erskine was usually drunk, perpetually half blind and reputed to be mad. "Or so the Horse Guards confessed to me," Wellington said, expecting Hogan to follow his erratic train of thought. "I wrote to them, Hogan, and complained at being provided with Erskine and do you know what they wrote back?" Wellington had told Hogan this story at least half a dozen times in the last three months, but the Irishman knew how much the General enjoyed the telling of it and so he indulged his master.
"I fear their reply has momentarily slipped my mind, my Lord."
"They wrote, Hogan, and I quote, that "no doubt he is sometimes a little mad, but in his lucid intervals he is an uncommonly clever fellow, but he did look a little wild as he embarked!" Wellington gave his great horse-neigh of a laugh. "So will Massйna try to relieve the garrison?"
Hogan understood from the General's tone that Wellington knew the answer as well as he did himself, and so he sensibly said nothing. The answer, anyway, was obvious, for both Hogan and Wellington understood that Marshal Massйna would not have left fifteen hundred men in Almeida just so they could be starved into surrender and thus forced to spend the rest of the war in some inhospitable prison camp on Dartmoor. Almeida had been garrisoned for a purpose and Hogan, like his master, suspected the purpose was close to its fulfilment.
"We think fifteen hundred men, my Lord."
"Ammunition?"
"Plenty."
"And how much food do they have?"
"My sources say two weeks on half rations which probably means they can last a month. The French do seem able to subsist on nothing, my Lord. Might I suggest we move before a gunner lays an accurate sight? And might I claim your Lordship's further attention?"
Wellington did not move. "I am claiming the gunners' whole attention," the General said with heavy humour, "as a means of encouraging them to improve their aim. That way, Hogan, they might relieve me of Erskine." General Erskine was usually drunk, perpetually half blind and reputed to be mad. "Or so the Horse Guards confessed to me," Wellington said, expecting Hogan to follow his erratic train of thought. "I wrote to them, Hogan, and complained at being provided with Erskine and do you know what they wrote back?" Wellington had told Hogan this story at least half a dozen times in the last three months, but the Irishman knew how much the General enjoyed the telling of it and so he indulged his master.
"I fear their reply has momentarily slipped my mind, my Lord."
"They wrote, Hogan, and I quote, that "no doubt he is sometimes a little mad, but in his lucid intervals he is an uncommonly clever fellow, but he did look a little wild as he embarked!" Wellington gave his great horse-neigh of a laugh. "So will Massйna try to relieve the garrison?"
Hogan understood from the General's tone that Wellington knew the answer as well as he did himself, and so he sensibly said nothing. The answer, anyway, was obvious, for both Hogan and Wellington understood that Marshal Massйna would not have left fifteen hundred men in Almeida just so they could be starved into surrender and thus forced to spend the rest of the war in some inhospitable prison camp on Dartmoor. Almeida had been garrisoned for a purpose and Hogan, like his master, suspected the purpose was close to its fulfilment.