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they could gather sufficient forces to oppose us. Sire, it is too much of a risk.’
    ‘The enemy are not strong enough to hamper the river crossing, I assure you. War is the realm of risk, chance and opportunity. In this case it is my judgement that the opportunity outweighs the risk.’ Napoleon’s tone hardened.‘Gentlemen, the orders are given and the army begins to cross the Danube tonight.’
    THE IBERIAN PENINSULA

     

Chapter 3
     
    Arthur
     
    Abrantes, Portugal, June 1809
     
     
    General Sir Arthur Wellesley lowered the letter with a frustrated sigh and leaned back in his chair. Even though he sat in the shade outside the small tavern the noon heat was stifling. Not so bad as India, he recalled, but beyond reasonable comfort all the same. He had taken off his coat and sat bareheaded at a plain trestle table as he dealt with the morning’s reports and correspondence. The army had halted at the Portuguese town of Abrantes several days earlier as it waited for supplies and money. The latter was Arthur’s most pressing concern. Not only had his men not been paid for over two months, but there were also numerous bills that required settling with Portuguese grain merchants and horse dealers, as well as the need for twenty thousand pairs of boots to replace those worn out by his men. It was Arthur’s policy that the British army must pay its way in the Peninsula if it was to enjoy the continued support of the Portuguese and Spanish people. His army was outnumbered at least five to one as things stood and the British could not afford the enmity of the people across whose land they campaigned.
    Arthur knew that the French took a less enlightened view regarding their supplies, and lived off the land with no regard for the consequent attitude of the local people. As a result the French had incurred the wrath of the Spanish and Portuguese peasants who now waged a pitiless war of resistance, ambushing French patrols, harassing their columns and butchering any stragglers left behind.
    Arthur looked down the steep slope towards the river Tagus. The water flowed with a serene grace through hills planted with groves of olive and fruit trees and the men of the British army were enjoying a hard-earned rest as they waited for their commander to decide on his next steps. Hundreds of soldiers were lining the bank, taking the chance to wash their clothes, while the more adventurous had stripped and were splashing in the shallows.
    Arthur permitted himself a small smile as he regarded them. The men had performed well at Oporto a month earlier, where they had surprised Marshal Soult and sent him fleeing towards Spain, abandoning all his artillery and wagons in the process. Besides proving that they could march hard, the redcoats had shown that they could stand up to the fanatical attacks of the French at the earlier battle of Vimeiro. Arthur was confident that his army, even outnumbered as it was, had the beating of all the marshals and men of Napoleon’s forces in the Peninsula, provided that the French were prevented from concentrating their armies. That was the trick of it, Arthur reflected. He must defeat them in detail until the Peninsula was liberated. Conversely, he dare not let his army suffer a single setback.
    He commanded the largest British army in the field and there were many at home in England who loudly questioned the sagacity of supporting such a large force in the Peninsula, far from the vital battlefields of central Europe, where Arthur’s men could be better used. He disagreed. It was best to deploy valuable British soldiers where they stood a good chance of tipping the scales. Even so, Arthur’s political masters had proved reluctant to allow him to take risks. Or they had been until the victory at Oporto. Then, true to form, the politicians had veered from caution to opportunism in an instant.
    Before Oporto Arthur had been forbidden from entering Spain without the express permission of the British