Beat the Drums Slowly by Adrian Goldsworthy Page A

most worthy one. London gave its approval, and after considerable thought instructed Sir John to find some way of achieving it. It was generally expected that the means would become apparent to him in due course as opportunities arose.
    Everything about it was untidy, unplanned and poorly organised, and from the beginning Moore had viewed the situation with the deep distaste of a man who took his profession seriously. None of his predecessors in command of the forces in Portugal had made any effort to prepare for the move to Spain. No supplies of stores had been gathered along the proposed route, nor even the most basic information sought about the main roads. The Portuguese army seemed equally unsure over whether or not the main road past Almeida was capable of use by artillery and heavy transport at this season, but were mainly inclined to feel that it was not.
    So when the advance began the British were divided along two widely separated routes. Most of the infantry went by the direct, northern road, while the cavalry, almost all of the artillery and a few battalions as escort followed a wide loop into Spain, by which they almost came in sight of Madrid before swinging north to join the others at Salamanca. At that peaceful university town, Sir John had concentrated most of his army, although a significant body led by Sir David Baird did not arrive until later. Small detachments and even entire battalions were still on their way to the main force. Fortunately the French had been in no position to exploit this vulnerable dispersal.
    ‘What is the Spanish situation overall?’ Sir John asked his friend, already guessing the answer.
    ‘As you would expect. The juntas do too much or too little, and none of it is well co-ordinated.’ The French had taken over the Spanish state and its administration, such as it was. Throughout the country, patriots had formed regional juntas, and done their best to organise an administration capable of running the country and, most important of all, directing the war effort. ‘I think that on the whole there are now more reasonable men in positions of authority than there were. It has been a while since anyone has talked of invading Portugal! Well, at least as a serious ambition. They still bicker with one another incessantly.’
    ‘And the generals?’
    ‘Are much the same. La Romana is one of the best, and some of the others seem good. Like the juntas they do not always agree. Of course, they lack our own country’s dedication to restricting the senior ranks to men of genuine capacity.’ Moore smiled at the arch comment. ‘Money is by far the biggest problem.’
    ‘That I understand.’ Moore had been demanding more funds from almost the moment he assumed command. Everything needed to be in appropriate coin for Portugal and Spain, for the locals were unwilling to trust printed notes in the nervous climate of war. London had proved unable to supply him with Spanish silver dollars in anything like the necessary quantities.
    ‘They have no money,’ Graham continued. ‘The soldiers are not paid, and the commanders have little money to supply provisions, so all too often they go without food. It is not to be wondered at if they leave. It is enough to make a man consider whether the Royal Navy has been doing Britain quite so good a service as we used to think by preying on Spanish merchant ships. Or indeed that our governments have been so wise in stealing – forgive me, liberating – their colonies.’
    ‘That money would be in Bonaparte’s hands now.’
    ‘Probably, but it must be confessed that we contributed a good deal to making Spain such a poor country before the war began, when they were still our enemies.’
    Moore had little concern for the past, and knew he must focus on making no errors in the coming days. It had been planned for the British Army to move to Burgos, and support the Spanish armies which formed in a rough line to meet the French onslaught. The British were