All in Scarlet Uniform (Napoleonic War 4) by Adrian Goldsworthy

value your own.’ FitzWilliam launched into a series of questions, about Spanish officers and their backgrounds, the quality of their NCOs – ‘We all know they are the fellows who matter the most’ – of drills and tactics, their commissariat and its limitations, the generals and the government supporting them. Billy answered as best he could. It reminded him of Oxford, and he felt that he was being guided towards some conclusion.
    ‘So, from all that you have seen, do you believe that we can win the war with our allies in their current state?’
    ‘No,’ said Pringle, surprising himself with the speed of his answer and the firmness of his conviction. ‘With Austria gone and the rest of Europe humbled, Bonaparte can lead three hundred thousand bayonets into Spain. Only in the most favourable conditions can the Spanish withstand the French in the field. We can beat them, but cannot match such numbers.’
    ‘And so the answer?’
    Pringle fought against the urge to say that Britain should leave a doomed cause. He did not want to believe that, and felt that he did not even though it was hard to come up with reasoned arguments against the proposition. ‘Time,’ he said, testing the idea in his mind as he spoke. ‘The French will want to win quickly, but may find that harder than they think. If they have not shown skill, the Spanish are certainly determined. Many of the defeats have come from rushing too hastily against the enemy, pitting raw soldiers against hardened battalions. In time the Spaniards will make better soldiers.’
    ‘And then the numbers become more balanced.’ FitzWilliam smiled. ‘Have you heard about the reorganisation of the Portuguese army?’
    ‘A little,’ said Pringle, sensing that he understood the colonel’s line of reasoning, but was still unsure of its implications for him. ‘General Beresford has taken a staff of English officers and is retraining their regiments.’
    ‘Quite so. It is said that he is doing wonders. Once the Portuguese are ready, they will at least double the size of Wellington’s army. The Marquess Wellesley’ – that was Wellington’s older brother, currently serving as envoy to Spain’s Central Junta – ‘has suggested a similar endeavour with the Spanish. It is a much more delicate matter, and for the moment kept to a small scale.
    ‘Perhaps you have already heard that our own Major MacAndrews is to be sent to Spain to establish a small training camp. The purpose is to take sergeants and corporals from the Spanish army and train them in drill, outpost duties and fighting in open order – the Spanish have few skirmishers, and that places them at a grave disadvantage against the French voltigeurs.’
    Billy Pringle thought that he at last discerned the colonel’s purpose, and so the conclusion did not take him wholly by surprise.
    Colonel FitzWilliam looked at him steadily. ‘MacAndrews is to take with him a party from this regiment as part of his command. I feel that you would be highly suited to this duty. It needs experienced men, otherwise there is little reason for the Spanish to pay any attention. Even so this is largely a gesture, but if Spanish generals begin to see that better non-commissioned officers make for better regiments, then they may permit an expansion of the idea.’
    Pringle was unsure what to say. On the one hand, the frustrations of recent weeks made the prospect of returning to Spain attractive. He liked and respected MacAndrews, although he doubted whether the scheme was practical. The Spanish had their own ways of doing things, and seemed unlikely to relish instruction by foreigners.
    ‘I confess to a degree of reluctance to leave the regiment,’ he said after a pause, feeling that this did not yet commit him to a decision.
    FitzWilliam seemed delighted. ‘That sentiment does you the greatest credit. However, it need not be for long. I will want my best officers with us when we take the field next year, indeed I shall. The