easy.’
‘Easy, no, Mr Pearce,’ the redcoat replied eagerly, ‘but possible. A bold stroke.’
The army man was excited, obvious even if he was trying to cover it up, which had Pearce wondering at his enthusiasm for his bold stroke. But he had to surmise there was a chance of advancement in the military for something outstanding. Even if they did buy their commissions, a hike in rank could be achieved by success.
‘I fear, Mr Dilnot, that you must tell me, for I would not dare to give an opinion.’
That came quickly. ‘We would need two cannon on lighter carts, with trunnions, beams and pulleys to make a hoist, a path cleared just wide enough to make possible their passage and teams of sailors to get them onto the carts and to pull them, once used, back into our lines. The trunnions we can leave.’
‘They will not sit still and let our cannon destroy their encampment.’
‘No.’
‘I may have little military knowledge, but I do know, Mr Dilnot, that losing guns is a cardinal sin. That is a transgression I have no notion to commit and whatever was achieved would surely be only temporary.’
‘I do believe, Mr Pearce, Lord Hood anticipates that we will be reinforced.’
‘Indeed?’
Dilnot was genuinely surprised at that display of ignorance. ‘Have you not heard, sir? There are Austrian and Neapolitan troops on the way, and a request has been sent for the Gibraltar garrison, who are sitting idle when the Dons are our allies. And there may well be a draft from England. What we gain by delaying their assault could be immeasurable. Let me explain.’
‘Please do so.’
Pearce had to return to the citadel to advise Captain Elphinstone, so he had Dilnot make plain his ideas, execute a drawing of the ground, write down the possible outcomes and work out the times needed to execute his bold stroke, one he insisted was better than sitting waiting to be attacked. Back at the fort, Pearce was waiting, as the Post Captain rode up on a stout, short pony, that had his legs near touching the ground.
‘It might be inelegant, Pearce,’ he shouted, ‘butby God it is better than walking round the defences.’ Elphinstone dismounted, rubbing his backside, which was clearly a source of pain and discomfort. ‘So, what is the position, as you see it at the Faron redoubt?’
‘I consulted with an army officer, sir,’ Elphinstone nodded in approval, ‘and he has suggested the following course of action.’
Pearce outlined what was really Dilnot’s plan, but he not attending, it left him with no alternative to mention as often as possible that he had been in receipt of military advice.
‘Yes, yes, laddie,’ Elphinstone barked, when he said it for a tenth time. ‘Get to the point.’
He did so, aware of, and ashamed that it was beginning to sound as though he had formulated these ideas himself. ‘The first task, sir, is to go out after dark and clear a route. The primary part of the evacuation, getting the guns out over the defences, will not be a problem, but we will need a stout body of men on the last part to haul the guns back in. If we succeed, it will give the French pause and may even disrupt their plans to the point where they abandon any idea of an assault.’
Elphinstone slapped him on the back. ‘There! I knew you were a warrior, Pearce, most Scots are. It is in the blood, and it’s a damned good job we have stopped being so disputatious with each other.’
‘Do you know of a Lieutenant Dilnot, sir?’ said Pearce, wishing to shift the praise.
The response was surprising. ‘That poltroon. Don’t mention his name to me ever, Pearce. The man is a damned coward, proved in battle. He failed at Oullioles and got killed a good man called Douglas, a fellow Scot as you will discern by the name. Should you come across him do what any decent officer would do. Snub him!’
Pearce was too dumfounded to respond, as Elphinstone went back to his small pony and stiffly remounted. ‘I need to go
‘Easy, no, Mr Pearce,’ the redcoat replied eagerly, ‘but possible. A bold stroke.’
The army man was excited, obvious even if he was trying to cover it up, which had Pearce wondering at his enthusiasm for his bold stroke. But he had to surmise there was a chance of advancement in the military for something outstanding. Even if they did buy their commissions, a hike in rank could be achieved by success.
‘I fear, Mr Dilnot, that you must tell me, for I would not dare to give an opinion.’
That came quickly. ‘We would need two cannon on lighter carts, with trunnions, beams and pulleys to make a hoist, a path cleared just wide enough to make possible their passage and teams of sailors to get them onto the carts and to pull them, once used, back into our lines. The trunnions we can leave.’
‘They will not sit still and let our cannon destroy their encampment.’
‘No.’
‘I may have little military knowledge, but I do know, Mr Dilnot, that losing guns is a cardinal sin. That is a transgression I have no notion to commit and whatever was achieved would surely be only temporary.’
‘I do believe, Mr Pearce, Lord Hood anticipates that we will be reinforced.’
‘Indeed?’
Dilnot was genuinely surprised at that display of ignorance. ‘Have you not heard, sir? There are Austrian and Neapolitan troops on the way, and a request has been sent for the Gibraltar garrison, who are sitting idle when the Dons are our allies. And there may well be a draft from England. What we gain by delaying their assault could be immeasurable. Let me explain.’
‘Please do so.’
Pearce had to return to the citadel to advise Captain Elphinstone, so he had Dilnot make plain his ideas, execute a drawing of the ground, write down the possible outcomes and work out the times needed to execute his bold stroke, one he insisted was better than sitting waiting to be attacked. Back at the fort, Pearce was waiting, as the Post Captain rode up on a stout, short pony, that had his legs near touching the ground.
‘It might be inelegant, Pearce,’ he shouted, ‘butby God it is better than walking round the defences.’ Elphinstone dismounted, rubbing his backside, which was clearly a source of pain and discomfort. ‘So, what is the position, as you see it at the Faron redoubt?’
‘I consulted with an army officer, sir,’ Elphinstone nodded in approval, ‘and he has suggested the following course of action.’
Pearce outlined what was really Dilnot’s plan, but he not attending, it left him with no alternative to mention as often as possible that he had been in receipt of military advice.
‘Yes, yes, laddie,’ Elphinstone barked, when he said it for a tenth time. ‘Get to the point.’
He did so, aware of, and ashamed that it was beginning to sound as though he had formulated these ideas himself. ‘The first task, sir, is to go out after dark and clear a route. The primary part of the evacuation, getting the guns out over the defences, will not be a problem, but we will need a stout body of men on the last part to haul the guns back in. If we succeed, it will give the French pause and may even disrupt their plans to the point where they abandon any idea of an assault.’
Elphinstone slapped him on the back. ‘There! I knew you were a warrior, Pearce, most Scots are. It is in the blood, and it’s a damned good job we have stopped being so disputatious with each other.’
‘Do you know of a Lieutenant Dilnot, sir?’ said Pearce, wishing to shift the praise.
The response was surprising. ‘That poltroon. Don’t mention his name to me ever, Pearce. The man is a damned coward, proved in battle. He failed at Oullioles and got killed a good man called Douglas, a fellow Scot as you will discern by the name. Should you come across him do what any decent officer would do. Snub him!’
Pearce was too dumfounded to respond, as Elphinstone went back to his small pony and stiffly remounted. ‘I need to go
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