his troops don’t get him out of it. Mine always do.’ He paused and continued under his breath, ‘Even if their officers don’t.’
General Hope nodded contentedly, grateful to have saved his reputation. Then he turned away to issue orders to his staff. Somerset stared towards the last of the French troops pulling back through the village ahead. ‘Is it your intention to pursue Soult?’
Arthur was silent for a moment. ‘No. It will do us no good. There is little to be achieved in this weather. Soult will retreat to Bayonne and settle into winter quarters. Our men are weary and need time to rest and re-equip. The issue will be decided next year. Both here and in the north.’ He smiled thinly. ‘The days of Bonaparte are numbered, Somerset. Make no mistake about it.’
Chapter 47
Arthur slid two five franc pieces across the desk towards Somerset and then leaned back in his chair.
‘Tell me which is the forgery.’
Somerset pursed his lips as he stared at the two silver coins, then he picked them up, one in each hand, and examined them closely, sensing their even weight as he did so. Both carried a minting date of five years earlier. The only distinction was that one was slightly less worn-looking than its companion. Somerset lowered the other coin and raised the shinier one up. ‘This one.’
Arthur slapped his hand down on the table and laughed. ‘Wrong!’
He was delighted with Somerset’s error. Earlier, he had been presented with the two coins by Wilkins, a sergeant in the Rifles, but formerly a resident of Newgate prison, who was in charge of the small team of conterfeiters. Wilkins had asked him to choose between the two coins and Arthur, like his aide, had failed to pick the forgery, and now took pleasure in passing on Wilkins’s explanation of the deception to Somerset.
‘You see, the coin has been stained with coffee. It gives the illusion of wear and will last long enough for the coin to pass through several hands before arousing any suspicion.’
Somerset picked up the coin and examined it again. ‘Very clever. Sergeant Wilkins and his men have done a fine job. We’re damn lucky to have such men with us.’
‘Lucky?’ Arthur raised his eyebrows. ‘In this instance, yes, but I have never been convinced of the wisdom of the army recruiting its men from the scum who infest our prisons.’
Somerset smiled. ‘Newgate’s loss is our gain, sir.’
‘True, but I shudder to think what use such fine skills might be put to in peacetime. In any case, Wilkins reports that he and his men have minted enough French coins for us to buy supplies for the next month at least. By which time, I hope that the promised gold arrives from England.’
Somerset puffed his cheeks and looked doubtful. His scepticism was probably justified, Arthur reflected. Almost every promise made to him by the government over recent years had been subject to alteration, delay or denial. The lack of gold posed the most serious threat to his campaign at present. The mule drivers who carried most of the army’s supplies had not been paid for over three months, and the soldiers for even longer.
Marshal Soult had his own problems, Arthur discovered from the locals. Unable to feed his army of sixty thousand and the population of Bayonne, Soult had been forced to leave a garrison and move the bulk of his army further inland. As the two armies settled into their winter quarters the civilians crossed freely between them, carrying wine, bread, meat and cheese from Bayonne and returning with sugar and coffee that arrived on the first English merchant vessels to enter the port of St-Jean-de-Luz. Even so, it was a seller’s market and the high prices charged by the peasants were made more aggravating by their refusal to accept the silver dollars the army had been using in Spain. Hence the small counterfeiting enterprise Arthur had set up in a closely guarded warehouse in the port where Wilkins and his men melted down the Spanish currency, added in a small measure of base metals, and then cast, finished and aged the French coins. As soon as they were mixed with the other French coins in the army’s war chest they would be ready to go into circulation. Arthur had managed to supplement his supply of French currency by trading coins for British treasury bills with some of the banks in Bayonne. He had been mildly surprised by the bankers’ willingness to enter into such deals with an enemy power, but then the venality of bankers surpassed their sense of patriotism by a considerable measure.
He put the coins in his drawer and turned to the next item on the list of administrative tasks that he and Somerset were working through. ‘Uniforms. Well? How is the replacement programme going?’
‘Slowly. Only a few consignments have arrived in the port. The winter seas are delaying the convoys from Southampton. So far we’ve been able to issue new kit to two of Hope’s divisions. He is sending one regiment at a time into the port to collect their new uniforms. What they leave behind is being laundered and issued to Hill’s men to use for patching.’
‘Good.’ Arthur nodded. Hill’s men, being positioned furthest from the port, were the last to get any kind of supplies, since the roads across the country were largely impassable. The mules used to carry supplies were short of forage and soon wasted away due to the exertion of struggling through the mud to reach the right wing of the allied army.
‘See to it that some of Hill’s reserve formations are recalled to the port to get some new kit. Best not let the men get some fool idea that one formation is being favoured over another.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Somerset bent his head to make a quick note.
‘Now then, on to the requisition of shipping for the Adour crossing. How is Major Simpson faring?’
The engineering officer had been tasked with securing sufficient vessels to construct a pontoon across the mouth of the Adour river. Once the bridge was in position General Hope’s men could encircle Bayonne when better weather returned and the campaign could be continued, while the main column of the allied army drove Soult east.
‘Simpson sent requisitions to the ports as far as Santander, and to some of the nearest French ports. There’s no shortage of interest amongst ship owners. The only difficulty is that they want paying in gold or silver.’
‘No surprise there,’ Arthur replied ruefully. ‘Tell Simpson we can offer them a third now, a third on arrival and a third on completion of the bridge.’
Somerset looked up and sucked in a breath. ‘Can we afford that, sir?’
‘We can afford the initial payment. That will be enough to get them here. Then they’ll have to wait their turn for money, like the rest. Once the ships are under our guns there’s little they can do about the situation in any case. Not very ethical, I know, but needs must.’ Arthur shook his head wearily. ‘Is that all this morning?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then we’ll finish this. You may go. Tell Wilkins to have his men complete their work as soon as possible. The army needs to be provisioned. It may be on the march before long, depending on events.’
‘Events, sir?’
Arthur nodded at some French newspapers that had reached headquarters that morning. ‘Even Bonaparte’s bulletins admit that he is falling back towards the French border. If we are approaching the endgame, then it is vital that we do our duty here in the south of France, and prevent Bonaparte from drawing any reinforcements from Soult.’ Arthur fixed his aide with a determined expression. ‘The end is near, Somerset. Bonaparte cannot stave off the combined armies of his enemies. The war will be over before the end of the year.’
‘And then, sir?’
‘Then? Then we go home.’Arthur waved a hand.‘Now then, off with you.’
When the door had closed behind Somerset, Arthur rose from his seat and walked over to the window. It looked out over the port’s rainswept quays, now packed with shipping, much of it British, free to come and go thanks to the Royal Navy’s domination of the French coast.
What would become of Bonaparte when the war was over? Arthur knew that his army, almost to a man, would be happy to see the French Emperor dethroned and ‘decapitalised’ as they put it. For his part Arthur knew that there was little desire for a return of the Bourbons amongst the French people, and so he was prepared to countenance Bonaparte’s remaining on the throne, as long as his army and his ambitions could be safely contained. Arthur smiled to himself. Whatever he might accept, he doubted that England’s eastern allies would be quite so merciful.
The wet weather continued throughout the rest of December and into the New Year. Most of the allied soldiers had been billeted in the port and the small villages south of Bayonne and the Adour river. Some battalions were not so fortunate and had to make do with barns and whatever shelters they could find. The rest slept in their
