JК
Sharpes Gold :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 174 из 179'The gold, or Almeida?
Hogan pulled his horse's head up. 'The gold, Richard. You know that.
'You're sure?
Hogan nodded. 'Very sure. Thousands might have died without the gold.
'But we don't know that."
Hogan waved his arm at the landscape. 'We do.
It was a miracle, perhaps one of the greatest feats of military engineering, and it had taken up the gold. The gold had been needed, desperately needed, or the work would never have been finished and the ten thousand labourers, some of whom Sharpe could see, could have packed up their shovels and picks and simply waited for the French. Sharpe watched the giant scrapers, hauled by lines of men and oxen, shaping the hills.
'What do you call it?
'The Lines of Torres Vedras.
Three lines barred the Lisbon peninsula, three giant fortifications made with the hills themselves, fortifications that dwarfed the granite-works at Almeida. The first line, on which they rode, was twenty-six miles long, stretching from the Atlantic to the Tagus, and there were two others behind it. The hills had been steepened, crowned with gun batteries, and the lowland flooded. Behind the hillcrests sunken roads meant that the twenty-five thousand garrison troops could move unseen by the French, and the deep valleys, where they could not be filled, were blocked with thorn-trees, thousands of them, so that from the air it must have looked as if a giant's child had shaped the landscape the way a boy played with a few square inches of wet soil by a stream.
Sharpe stared eastwards, at the unending line, and he found it hard to believe. So much work, so many escarpments made by hand, crowned with hundreds of guns cased in stone forts, their embrasures looking to the north, to the plain where Massena would be checked.
Hogan rode alongside him. 'We can't stop him, Richard, not till he gets here. And here he stays.
'And we're back there. Sharpe pointed towards Lisbon, thirty miles to the south.
Hogan nodded. 'It's simple. He'll never break the lines, never; they're too strong. And he can't go round; the Navy's there. So here he stops, and the rains start, and in a couple of months he'll be starving and we come out again to reconquer Portugal.
'And on into Spain? Sharpe asked.
'On into Spain. Hogan sighed, waved again at the huge scar of the unbelievable fortress. 'And we ran out of money. We had to get money.
'And you got it.
Hogan bowed to him. 'Thank you.
Hogan pulled his horse's head up. 'The gold, Richard. You know that.
'You're sure?
Hogan nodded. 'Very sure. Thousands might have died without the gold.
'But we don't know that."
Hogan waved his arm at the landscape. 'We do.
It was a miracle, perhaps one of the greatest feats of military engineering, and it had taken up the gold. The gold had been needed, desperately needed, or the work would never have been finished and the ten thousand labourers, some of whom Sharpe could see, could have packed up their shovels and picks and simply waited for the French. Sharpe watched the giant scrapers, hauled by lines of men and oxen, shaping the hills.
'What do you call it?
'The Lines of Torres Vedras.
Three lines barred the Lisbon peninsula, three giant fortifications made with the hills themselves, fortifications that dwarfed the granite-works at Almeida. The first line, on which they rode, was twenty-six miles long, stretching from the Atlantic to the Tagus, and there were two others behind it. The hills had been steepened, crowned with gun batteries, and the lowland flooded. Behind the hillcrests sunken roads meant that the twenty-five thousand garrison troops could move unseen by the French, and the deep valleys, where they could not be filled, were blocked with thorn-trees, thousands of them, so that from the air it must have looked as if a giant's child had shaped the landscape the way a boy played with a few square inches of wet soil by a stream.
Sharpe stared eastwards, at the unending line, and he found it hard to believe. So much work, so many escarpments made by hand, crowned with hundreds of guns cased in stone forts, their embrasures looking to the north, to the plain where Massena would be checked.
Hogan rode alongside him. 'We can't stop him, Richard, not till he gets here. And here he stays.
'And we're back there. Sharpe pointed towards Lisbon, thirty miles to the south.
Hogan nodded. 'It's simple. He'll never break the lines, never; they're too strong. And he can't go round; the Navy's there. So here he stops, and the rains start, and in a couple of months he'll be starving and we come out again to reconquer Portugal.
'And on into Spain? Sharpe asked.
'On into Spain. Hogan sighed, waved again at the huge scar of the unbelievable fortress. 'And we ran out of money. We had to get money.
'And you got it.
Hogan bowed to him. 'Thank you.