Hervey 11 - On His Majesty's Service (30 page)

‘No. I shall not dissipate our strength. My intention is to bring the main force to battle in the field, then reduce Silistria and Shumla before what remains of the field army and their garrison is able to withdraw into the Balkan passes. Then I shall march hard on Adrianople. Siseboli shall be my base of supply once we have forced the Balkan. Despite what has gone before, I do not consider the task a difficult one. The Turkish soldier, although he has fought bravely and endured much, is become …
bedrükt
.’

Bedrükt
– despondent, downhearted. There was without doubt something amiss in the fighting spirit of the Sultan’s army. Would the Janissaries have let Siseboli stand as a rebuke to them? Not the Janissaries of old. And yet here they stood, reviewing the coming campaign, not
within
the walls of Silistria but without. Hervey nodded, but cautiously. ‘There was nothing of élan in their action at Siseboli, or before.’

Diebitsch nodded. ‘It is, they say, in the Turk nature – a tendency to
fatalismus
. And it is my intention to persuade them of their inevitable fate, and quickly.’

‘General – you will forgive me if I appear impudent – but are there more solid grounds for believing the Turks will not fight as once they did? Especially once we – you – cross the Danube.’

Diebitsch nodded thoughtfully (and smiled to himself, for he ought to have expected as much from a man he wished to make major-general). ‘My spies report that there have not been the reinforcements from the west on which the Sultan was counting. The Servians and Arnauts have sent but few, and the Bosnians, the best of their auxiliaries, none at all.’

Hervey nodded too. ‘That would indeed bear on their fighting spirit.’

‘And I believe they have lately made a grave mistake, which I am now about to take advantage of.’ Diebitsch pointed to Shumla on the map. ‘Here the main Turk force has been assembling since the snows were past, and Reschid Pasha, the new Vizier, arrived at the end of March to take personal command. You are aware of his aptitude?’

‘Yes,’ said Hervey: the reputation of General Reschid was well known to London from his campaign against the Greeks in Morea.

‘But I perceive in this a measure of alarm,’ continued Diebitsch. ‘You may not know it, but Reschid is the son of an Orthodox priest, a Greek. He was made captive as a child, then rose by sheer capability – the Sultan’s first minister, a remarkable transformation. Yet I wonder if the Sultan or any other can have complete trust in his loyalty. That is something on which it is futile to speculate, but it
may
from time to time impel him to action in order to prove it. In any case, he has miscalculated. General Roth, a capable man despite the reverses of last season, of his own initiative has placed a force of two corps before Shumla – they wintered in Roumelia – and a line of defensible posts between there and Rustchuk, which is the westernmost Turk garrison of any importance. And I have now a line of Cossack patrols between Pravadi and Turtokai here on the Danube,’ (he pointed to the latter fortress, almost equidistant between Silistria and Rustchuk) ‘so that, in truth, the country of the Dobrudscha, though it is not yet ours, is denied to the Turks. The Dobrudscha is good farmland, valuable to the army. And to there,’ (pointing to Rasgrad, half-way between Rustchuk and Shumla) ‘my headquarters are being transferred as we speak.’

‘
Before
Silistria falls?’

‘Silistria is now surely invested. Its garrison is made prisoner. And – here is the point – the more so for Reschid’s miscalculation: he attempted to recover Pravadi two weeks ago, but his letter to the Pasha at Rustchuk, to send troops to his assistance, was intercepted by my Cossacks, and so Reschid was thrown back. But because he has a reputation to maintain – and perhaps that need to reassure the Sultan – he now marches thither again with the whole garrison of Shumla.’

Hervey could see the opportunity in this, but it would be to no avail if the Turks were simply to entrench themselves at Pravadi instead of Shumla. ‘Can Pravadi stand in the face of such numbers?’

‘It has been most carefully fortified since we captured it.’ Diebitsch took an engineer sketch from beneath the map. ‘An inundation here,’ he went on, pointing, ‘covered by a battery, protects the northern side of the town. There is a hornwork constructed on the commanding ground to the west, here, while the town itself is surrounded by a wall flanked with
tenailles
, so that although it rests in a deepish sort of valley, it is perfectly defensible.’

‘How strong is the garrison, General?’

Diebitsch paused only momentarily before disclosing the number. ‘Eight thousand. With some of my best engineers.’

‘So I take it you intend besieging Reschid as he himself besieges?’ Hervey smiled. ‘Like the Gauls laying siege to Caesar as he laid siege to Alesia?’

Diebitsch looked at him warily.

‘I did not mean to suggest that yours would be the fate of the Gauls, General,’ added Hervey quickly. ‘Only that the ground and the situation seem greatly to your favour.’

Diebitsch shook his head. ‘I have done with sieges. I shall force Reschid to withdraw once more to Shumla, and in that withdrawal I shall destroy him in the open. Upon that battle the key to the Balkan lock shall turn.’

Hervey could make no reply. The design was inspiring. All that was necessary to bring it off was that the Tsar’s officers had the requisite acuity. And of that he could not yet be certain.

When an hour later Hervey returned to their quarters, he found Fairbrother lying back in a chair, his face being vigorously lathered by a wiry Bessarabian barber.

‘I have ripe news … but it must wait a little longer.’

Fairbrother could not reply until the barber began stropping his razor. ‘For what?’

Hervey nodded and raised an eyebrow.

‘Have no fear on that account. I’ve had the devil of a job to explain I wanted my upper lip shaving.’

‘I take no chances.’

Fairbrother decided that his own news could be aired instead. ‘Well, I tell you the strangest thing. While you were away I borrowed a horse from the commissaries and took a ride upriver, and behold – I saw camels drinking in the Danube.’

Hervey looked puzzled. ‘Why strange? They’ll need
some
water, I dare say; and the river seems to have excess of it. They’re Turcomans, to make up the losses in pack horses.’

‘Yes, I learned that. But is it not extraordinary: the prophecy is come true, eh?’

Hervey took off his forage cap and sat down, already sensing that his friend had a meal to make. ‘I have not the pleasure of knowing what prophecy.’

Fairbrother wiped soap from his mouth. ‘Hervey, you astound me. “
Dans le Danube et du Rhin viendra boire le Grand Chameau
”?’

Hervey shook his head. ‘Thou speakest in riddles.’

‘But of course; I quote Nostradamus. You’ve heard of Nostradamus, have you not?’

‘Of course I’ve heard of Nostradamus. And the three witches on the heath.’

Fairbrother chose to ignore the comparison. ‘Did he not prophesy the Mussulman would drive all before him in his march westward?’

‘I’ve never read his work. In any case, General Diebitsch intends driving his camels in the other direction, to Constantinople.’

The barber now began with his razor, and conversation ceased until he had scraped off the last of the soap.

As he took to the brush and the strop for the second, close shave, Fairbrother could contain himself no longer. ‘I must tell you of a considerable piece of intelligence I acquired during my ride. I watched the engineers blow up
a fougasse
. Not, however, by quick-match but with electricity. Is such a means known to English engineers?’

‘I think not,’ replied Hervey, at once engaged by the notion. ‘But why were you so close to the siege works? Were the Turks making a sortie?’

‘No. I came upon the engineers at their practice ground. They fired the mine from six hundred yards off, with a Voltaic pile.’

‘I am no electrician.’

‘Nor I, though I’ve read enough to comprehend what they told me – which they were content enough to do until their superior arrived. He was greatly perturbed by my presence, so I feigned ignorance. I have, however, made extensive notes.’

‘Excellent. I fancy the Board of Ordnance will be pleased to read them. But I wonder why we haven’t used electricity, and yet the Russians have?’

‘I suppose it’s that their army has been active these late years. Others, dare I say it, have become decidedly cobwebby.’

The barber began lathering again, and conversation ceased until he was done with his razor and had left the room for the wash-house where he was boiling up towels.

Hervey took the opportunity to explain his own news, the general-in-chief’s intentions. Without being able to point out the various places on a map, however, he imagined he would have to reprise them once his friend had left the chair.

The barber returned with his hot towels, and soon Fairbrother’s head was swaddled like a mummy, but for his mouth.

‘What distance is it from Pravadi to Shumla – a dozen leagues or thereabouts?’

Hervey took out the map from his sabretache and consulted it. ‘It is.’

‘Do you not think it perilous to try to manoeuvre against such an accomplished general as Reschid, especially with such support as he has at close hand in Shumla, for he cannot have left the place empty? And if Hussein Pasha at Rustchuk is summoned to his aid, it is but fifty miles from there to Shumla – two days’ forced march at most.’

Hervey was now less impressed with the possibility that the barber was a Turkish spy and more with the ability of his friend to picture the country in his mind. Nevertheless he proceeded with caution. ‘The intelligence is that there are but …
quattuor cohortes
remaining there. But …
our friends, with whom we rode
, their patrols tie up very neatly the force at the other place. The venture is risky, of course, but the …
imperator
is rightly impatient for success.’

He sat back to observe the barber applying one last towel, wondering again at his friend’s contrary disposition. It was extraordinary that – and in so chance a fashion – Fairbrother could one minute display an indolence that was proverbial of the race to which he partially belonged, and yet in another demonstrate the most remarkable percipience. That in its way, perhaps, was part not just of his charm but of his worth: there was something in his friend’s haphazardness that made him look at things differently, not taking them quite at face value, for Fairbrother seemed at times capable of divination (whereas he himself proceeded entirely from – he believed – a proper soldierly impulse or from the application of dispassionate logic). The haphazardness no doubt derived from, among other things, his eclectic reading (which apparently, now, even took in scientific papers), which, though never of the depth that would make him a scholar, gave him nevertheless a passing acquaintance with almost everything of the moment. Of the two of them, Hervey was sure that Dr Johnson would have judged Fairbrother the more ‘clubbable’. Yet with Fairbrother’s intuition added to his own more measured approach, he would count himself almost unassailable. He was certainly resolved to have it so in Gibraltar – or even (he smiled to himself – preposterous notion!) St Petersburg.

‘When do we begin?’ asked the diviner, emerging from the towels.

‘
Crastinum
. They are providing us with horses.’

Fairbrother stood up, fished out silver from a pocket and dismissed the barber with a smile and a handshake.

‘I thought to try him by telling him to come back
crastinum
– but I suppose we shall be leaving at too early an hour?’

Hervey sighed. ‘I have spent too long in India to underestimate the possibilities of spies. But, yes, I believe we shall leave early.’

Fairbrother began brushing his hair back vigorously. ‘What else did you learn? Diebitsch – is he as his reputation?’

‘I would judge him a very considerable general. He has a very …
complete
view of strategy. I’ll tell you more when we dine, but this I must first tell you: I was made a member of the Order of Saint Anna, Second Class – With Swords.’

Fairbrother put down his hair brushes and turned to his friend, his face shining with the polishing of soap and an admiring smile. ‘And most deservedly so. Congratulations!’

‘And – here’s the ripest news of all – Diebitsch wants to make me a major-general and give me a brigade.’

Fairbrother’s expression turned to one of curiosity. ‘Does he, indeed? Not empty honours, then: he sees your true worth. What reply did you give him?’

‘That I esteemed his offer greatly, but that I required time to consider it.’

‘You did not reject it forthwith? I am heartened. How much time was agreed?’

‘It was not specified. He gave me to understand that he wished my services to be with him principally in St Petersburg. I don’t believe my leading a brigade to Constantinople is an essential element in his design.’