Beat the Drums Slowly by Adrian Goldsworthy Read Free Book Online Page A

muskets of the line infantry. Officially the Royal Americans, most of the recruits these days were Germans, and the battalion had enlisted a large number of men who claimed to be German or Swiss from those prisoners taken in August who were reluctant to return to the French army. The same men were equally reluctant to accept British discipline, and on advancing into Spain had plundered and used violence against the inhabitants to such an extent that Sir John Moore had ordered them back to Portugal.
    ‘So we are considered an improvement over a pack of thieves, which I suppose is still a compliment of sorts.’ Brotherton was only in his late twenties, but had an older demeanour, reinforced by the baldness that had by this time claimed all of the top of his head as its own. He had a good attention to detail, as well as sufficient knowledge of bribery, bullying and contagious enthusiasm to be very good at turning the battalion commander’s wishes into actions. He and MacAndrews worked well together.
    ‘Let us sincerely hope that we can maintain such a good opinion,’ said MacAndrews.
    ‘I’ll keep an eye on the lads. Doubt there is much to steal here anyway.’
    ‘There is always something.’ MacAndrews nodded in satisfaction. ‘You are right, though. I believe we are well placed. There was talk of putting us with Bentinck. That would probably be well enough, but on balance we may well be better off here. How do you find the administration of the division?’
    ‘Good. In fact, on the whole, remarkably good, except for the …’
    ‘Commissaries.’ MacAndrews echoed the expected complaint with a wry smile. The civilian commissariat department had recruited many new officials to oversee the supply of the expedition. Almost none of them had any experience.
    ‘Not very much we can do about that.’ The 106th had joined the army just two days ago. Although summoned to replace the 5/60th, they had been tasked with escorting an ammunition convoy, and so spent weeks toiling over atrocious roads with the slow-moving ox-carts. Fortunately a few companies from the Buffs had been sent to take the empty wagons back to Portugal, so that MacAndrews’ battalion was left at comfortably over six hundred men. ‘I believe that the army is to have a day or two to rest, before we advance again. It is clear that the general expects a major action before very long.’
    ‘Happier now that we are led by a Scotsman?’ suggested the adjutant.
    ‘Aye, well enough.’ MacAndrews deliberately broadened his soft accent again. ‘Sir John has a fine reputation, although I have never had the honour of serving under him.’
    ‘He behaved most handsomely to me earlier, when he rode past with his staff. Stopped and bade me good day, and then asked about the condition of the regiment. Seemed pleased with our turnout after a fatiguing march through foul weather to get here.’
    MacAndrews had rarely seen the habitually cynical Brotherton so openly enthusiastic. He guessed that his adjutant had been burning to tell the story, so listened with patience. It was flattering to hear such a high opinion of the 106th, and remarkable how quickly the general had won the utter devotion of one of his officers.
    ‘A long day,’ the major said at the end of the story. ‘And no doubt longer ones are to come, so I believe we have a duty to rest. We shall parade the battalion at eight thirty tomorrow morning. After the inspection, I think an hour of battalion drill and then the same by company. They can have the afternoon to rest and look more fully to their equipment. Good night, Jack.’
    ‘Good night, sir.’
    The room opened on to the corridor, but on the far side was another room which had been allocated as quarters to the major’s family. It worried MacAndrews to have his wife and daughter with the army. They had always followed him to garrisons around the world, but he had hoped to prevent their coming to Portugal and then following him to Spain. His