Текст книги "The Generals"

Автор книги: Simon Scarrow

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Chapter 26

As the ships raised their anchors and were carried slowly downriver with the Hoogley’s current the sailors went aloft and lowered the sails to catch the light breeze blowing across the river. There was just enough wind to provide steerage way and the Indiamen glided gracefully past the battlements of Fort William and the seething slums and warehouses of Calcutta. Fortunately the breeze was from the other shore and so those on board were spared the stench that had greeted them when they had arrived in Calcutta at the start of the year.

Arthur was standing at the stern of his transport, arms folded as he stared at the fort, still furious with Sir John for taking away his command. After all the hard work he had done to make sure that the expedition stood every chance of success, another man had stepped in to reap all the credit. It stuck in his throat like a stone, yet he knew he must not reveal his frustration and anger, and must do his utmost to help General St Leger win his victory.

Footsteps approached from behind and a moment later Captain Fitzroy was beside him, leaning on the stern rail.

‘Action at last, sir. I can hardly wait to reach Manila.’

‘We should be there soon enough, Fitzroy,’ Arthur replied quietly. ‘Provided the weather holds. It’s late in the season. We don’t want to be caught out when the monsoons start.’

For a while they watched the city give way to irrigated field systems, dotted with occasional water buffaloes and small clusters of huts. Then Fitzroy stirred. ‘Do you think we’ll be able to take Manila?’

‘Of course,’ Arthur replied automatically. ‘You heard what the general said. The last report from our agent in Manila was that the garrison consisted of two battalions of veterans and the cannon in the forts are old and decrepit.They’ll be no match for us.’

‘If the agent is right.’

‘He’d better be. We paid him enough.’ Arthur smiled. ‘Rest easy. We’ll be back at Fort William before the year is out, and we’ll have given the men a victory to celebrate.’

‘Aye, and we’ll be the heroes of the Manila campaign when word gets back to London.’ Fitzroy smiled at the thought of the social capital he would be able to make out of his part in the expedition.

‘Calling it a campaign is stretching the truth a bit,’ Arthur countered.

‘You know that, and I know that, but none of the debutantes in Dublin and London will be any the wiser.’

Arthur shook his head pityingly.‘You are a scoundrel, Captain Fitzroy.’

‘Did you ever see a lady’s man who wasn’t, sir?’

For a moment Arthur pictured Kitty gazing adoringly up at a beau such as Fitzroy as he related to her how he had scaled the walls of Manila’s defences, flag in one hand and sword in the other, laying into the Spaniards with heroic abandon until he had taken the city virtually single-handed. How could a woman resist such a hero? The thought made him angry and he was suddenly tired of Fitzroy and his self-centredness.

‘Captain, the first company is scheduled to exercise this morning. Please see to it.’

Fitzroy was surprised by the sudden cooling in tone, then stood stiffly to attention and saluted. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Carry on then.’

Once Fitzroy had left him alone, Arthur turned back to watch the landscape passing slowly by as the flotilla edged down the Hoogley, until at noon the river merged with the great expanse of the Ganges river which carried the transports out into the Bay of Bengal and the ocean beyond.

Arthur had made it clear to his officers that they were responsible for the well-being of their men. During the voyage hammocks were scrubbed down every ten days, fitness training was taken daily and a number of dumb-bells had been allocated to each vessel to ensure that the men were able to do strengthening exercises. Twice a week, the men were given live firing practice at empty barrels deposited in the sea from one of the ship’s boats, while the sailors looked on from vantage points in the rigging and jeered poor shots, and grudgingly cheered each time the target was hit.

The flotilla from Calcutta was the first to arrive at Penang and anchored a safe distance offshore to wait for the transports from Madras. Arthur took the opportunity to hone the skills of his men with plenty of drilling on the sand. General St Leger remained on his vessel for most of the time, only making for the shore once in a while, to take a stroll in the dense forest that grew on the slopes of the hills a short distance inland. He usually took a pistol with him to obliterate any parrot or small mammal that strayed across his path.

Eleven days after the flotilla had arrived off Penang a lookout sighted sails approaching from the south-west. As word of the sighting spread from ship to ship the men on the decks scanned the horizon, shading their eyes against the glare coming off the surface of the sea.There was a tense atmosphere as the ships crept into view.The crews and soldiers aboard the transports had good reason to be nervous. Although the French navy had ceased to be much of a threat in the East Indies there were still plenty of privateers in these waters, a handful of which preferred to operate in small squadrons that would be more than a match for the Company vessels.Then the lookout aloft positively identified them as Indiamen and the tension was relieved, some of the men even cheering as the Madras squadron approached the flotilla and reduced sail. Even before the leading ship had dropped anchor a boat was launched and rowed hurriedly across to the transport carrying the general and his staff.

‘Now, what do you suppose that is all about?’ Fitzroy asked languidly.

Arthur shrugged. ‘We’ll know soon enough, I imagine. Someone’s in a pressing hurry to tell St Leger some news.’

‘I wonder what kind of news, sir?’ Fitzroy asked with a tinge of alarm. ‘Nothing that will stop us taking Manila, I trust. I sincerely hope the bloody Spanish haven’t gone and changed sides again.’

‘I wouldn’t be too concerned,’ Arthur responded easily.‘There are more than enough enemies of England in this part of the world. You’ll still get your chance to fight, and win that glory you’ve set your heart on. Trust me.’

He turned away from the side rail and called down the gangway for his steward to fetch his coat, hat and sword. As he checked his appearance in the small mirror held out by his steward a string of flags broke from the halyard of St Leger’s vessel.

The first mate of the Indiaman translated the signal. ‘Officer commanding to captains and senior army officers, repair aboard immediately.’

The heat in the cabin was stifling, even though the stern windows stood open and the vents on the skylight had been raised to admit whatever breeze was wafting over the anchored vessel. General St Leger, wearing a loose shirt, raised the dispatch he had received.

‘Bad news, I’m afraid, gentlemen. A French army, commanded by General Bonaparte, has knocked Austria out of the war. They’ve agreed preliminary terms and by now it is likely that the treaty is signed and sealed. The War Office in London has sent warnings to all our forces to expect increased French activity, now that they are free to concentrate their efforts outside Europe. A squadron of warships left Toulon back in April, and our spies claim that it was bound for Mauritius. If that is the case then they will be ready to operate against our naval and commercial shipping as early as September, a mere few weeks from now.’

‘Then we must proceed to Manila at once, sir,’ said Arthur. ‘Before they can arrive in these waters.’

‘Wait.’ The general brandished the letter again. ‘There’s more. The French navy is not the only threat, nor perhaps the most dangerous. The Goveror General has had fresh intelligence from his sources in Mysore. It seems that a small party of French officers arrived in Seringapatam at the end of June. They offered an alliance to Tipoo and possibly some form of assistance, be it money or weapons. Soon after they arrived Tipoo issued orders for the massing of his forces at Seringapatam. In view of this new threat Sir John has instructed us to reconsider the assault on Manila. IfTipoo decides to attack then our forces will be needed to subdue him. So I must decide whether to return to India, or proceed with the attempt to take Manila.’

The general dropped the dispatch on to the table and sat down. His officers sat in silence for a moment as they considered the situation outlined to them. One of the commanders of the Company battalions, Colonel Stephens, leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. ‘What are your intentions, sir?’

‘My intentions?’ St Leger looked faintly bemused. ‘Why, to listen to the advice of my senior officers, of course.’

‘Sir, Manila is but a few days’ sail from here. At the moment I am confident we could take the place easily enough. But the longer we sit here, the better their chances of frustrating us.’

‘I’m aware of that, Stephens.’

‘Then we must strike quickly, sir. Take Manila, garrison it, then return here to await further orders.’

‘And what if Tipoo attacks while we are engaged at Manila?’

‘You know how those native armies are, sir. It will be some months yet before Tipoo is ready to take the field against us.’

‘That is true,’ the general conceded, and Stephens, sensing that his commander was wavering, pressed home his opinion.

‘Then continue with the operation against Manila, while we still have the advantage over the Spanish. Sir, we must not let Sir John’s timidity overrule sound judgement. Manila is ripe for the plucking, and with it most of Spain’s possessions in the East Indies. We’d be fools to let the chance of a great victory slip through our fingers for want of resolve – on the part of Sir John,’ he added quickly. ‘Strike now, sir, and snatch Spain’s prize colony for England.’ He slapped his hand down on the table. ‘That’s my advice, sir.’

Arthur had been listening to the exchange with a growing sense of despair at the fragility of his commander’s authority, and now he cleared his throat and shook his head. The general spotted the gesture at once.

‘What is your opinion, Colonel Wesley?’

Arthur quickly ordered his thoughts before he replied.

‘Sir, it is true that the best chance of taking Manila is now. If there is a strong force of French warships in the area they could make good use of Manila as a base of operations, in which case it would be foolhardy for us to attempt any attack on the place. Their ships would blow these Indiamen out of the water long before we could land our troops.We may only have a short time left in which it is practical to continue the operation. If you are to attack you must do it swiftly.’

‘There!’ Stephens nodded approvingly. ‘You see, sir? Now is the time for boldness.’

‘I haven’t finished,’ Arthur cut in firmly. ‘While there may be truth in what has been said, we have to consider other possibilities. What if we do take Manila, at great cost; or, worse, what if we are rebuffed and forced to retreat? Then we will have lost many men who may be needed if there is a war with Tipoo. Worse still, once word of our failure leaks out to the other principalities and states in India we will lose face, and that might be enough to spur the warlords who are still undecided about joining Tipoo to declare war on us. If you proceed to Manila, and fail, then you will be damned by those men back in England who will judge your actions.’

General St Leger stirred uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Damned if I do and damned to be forgotten by posterity if I don’t.’

‘Sir,’ Colonel Stephens leaned forward. ‘You have Manila in your grasp. All that remains is to pluck it.’

The general sat back and rubbed his forehead wearily. ‘I will let you know my decision as soon as I’ve considered the options. You may return to your ships.’

The men on the vessels anchored around the general’s Indiaman did not have long to wait. Scarcely half an hour after Arthur had returned from the flagship, signal flags rose up the halyards. Arthur and Fitroy turned to the first mate for an explanation.

‘All ships, prepare to make sail. Course, west by north,’ the mate intoned.

‘What does it mean?’ Fitzroy asked as the first orders were bellowed across the deck of the transport and the sailors went to their stations.

The mate scratched his chin.‘It means that we’re heading back to Calcutta.’

‘Calcutta . . .’ Fitzroy repeated quietly in a tone of disgust. ‘What a bloody waste of time.’

Arthur pressed his lips together. Once again, another chance to win his spurs had been snatched away from him.The war was likely to be over long before he could prove himself, and the only prospect that the future would hold out for him would be an undistinguished oblivion. He cursed the latest twist of fate with all his heart, and bitterly began to wonder how much more he could have achieved if only he had been one of the blessed few young soldiers who were the darlings of fate, like that damned fortunate Frenchman, Bonaparte.

Chapter 27

Napoleon

Paris, December 1797

The treaty that France had signed with Austria at Campo Formio brought peace to Europe, for the moment. Only the old enemy, England, remained, watching warily from the other side of the Channel. When Napoleon and Junot returned to his modest home on Rue Chantereine Napoleon was surprised to see how quickly the people of Paris had responded to peace. The shop windows were full of luxury items and well-dressed dandies and their ladies walked the streets cheek by jowl with the dowdy masses, almost as if there had never been a revolution. Expensive carriages rattled over the cobbled boulevards, weaving through the pedestrians and sedan chairs.

‘You’d never guess this was the same city described by Augereau,’ Junot muttered. ‘I thought the place was supposed to be simmering on the edge of a violent uprising.’

‘Seems peaceful,’ Napoleon agreed, his bright eyes flickering from side to side as they rode down a street close to his home. ‘We’ll find out soon enough.’

Once the armistice had been signed some months earlier, Napoleon had sent General Augereau back to Paris to represent his interests during the negotiations with Austria. Augereau wrote regularly, and somewhat alarmingly, of the precarious state of the government, warning Napoleon that he had enough enemies in the capital to make it too dangerous for him to return until the treaty was signed and Napoleon could claim the fruits of victory from the grateful citizens.That was why Napoleon had told Josephine to remain in Milan until he sent for her. As he entered the house that they had shared for only three days after they had been married, Napoleon felt her absence more keenly than ever. She was far from home, and the marriage bed, but at least her friends would keep her company in his absence.

Once he had bathed and rested Napoleon joined Junot in the small study and sat at his desk to dictate to his friend. There were letters to be written, and meetings to be arranged before he retired to bed. The first note was to Paul Barras and the other members of the Directory to notify them of his arrival in Paris. It was more than a courtesy, since the unannounced arrival of a successful and popular general in the capital would greatly alarm the politicians and cause them to suspect his motives even more than they already did. With that obligation out of the way Napoleon drew up a list of people he needed to see as soon as possible: the new foreign minister, Talleyrand; his brothers Joseph and Lucien; and some of the most prominent generals and politicians presently in the city. France would not endure the current constitution for much longer, and when the inevitable happened, and the Directory was replaced, then a new generation of men would decide the fate of France. When that time came, Napoleon reflected, he must be prepared to play his part, and seize any opportunity.

It was late in the evening before he had finished his tasks and told Junot to make sure that the messages were delivered immediately. As he left the study and made his way to the bedroom Napoleon was aware of a flickering glow through the windows at the front of the house, accompanied by the muted sounds of a gathered crowd. At once he feared that a mob had discovered his return and was bent on attacking his home. In the years of the revolution no man had been safe from the fickle attentions of the Parisians. He turned back to his study in alarm.

‘Junot! Come quickly.’

His friend hurried from the study, clutching the sealed letters under his arm. ‘What is it, sir?’

‘There, look.’ Napoleon pointed to the window and beckoned to Junot to follow him as he padded cautiously towards the front of the house. Keeping to the shadows they peered round the curtains, down into the street outside. Over a hundred people were gathered there, some carrying torches, and all talking in an excited babble.

‘What do they want?’ Junot said quietly.

‘Whatever it is, let’s keep out of sight. Find the groom and send him out there to see what’s going on. Better tell him to use the rear entrance. He can go along the alley to reach the end of the street. Got that?’

Junot nodded.

‘Send him straight to me the instant he returns.’

‘Yes, sir.’

As Junot retreated down the corridor Napoleon stayed at the window for a moment, taking care to keep hidden in the shadows. Then, realising that his presence there served no purpose, he returned to his study and waited. A short while later footsteps mounted the stairs and Junot entered the room, ushering in the groom.

‘Well?’ Napoleon said tersely.

The groom gave a nervous smile and gestured towards the front of the house. ‘They’ve come to see you, sir.’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’ The groom could not hide his surprise. ‘Because you’re a hero, sir. Everyone’s talking about the treaty, and the war you won against Austria. The crowd started gathering as soon as they heard you had arrived in Paris.’

‘What do they want?’

‘To see you, sir. That’s all. They want to be the first to see the man who won all those battles. The man who led the attack on that bridge at Arcola.’

Napoleon could not help smiling faintly. The reports of the charge he had led into the hail of Austrian grapeshot had clearly reached far beyond the army newspapers, as he had hoped. Seeing the smile, Junot nodded towards the window.

‘Does the great general want to reveal himself to his adoring public?’

Napoleon frowned. ‘Don’t be a fool, Junot. Any one of them could be carrying a firearm. I’d make a fine target of myself the moment I stood at the window.’

‘Then what do we do, sir?’

‘Nothing. Let them stand there if they want to, but I’m not parading myself in front of them. Not yet, at least.’ He turned to the groom and nodded to the door.The man bowed and left the two officers to continue their conversation alone.

‘You deserve their acclaim, sir.’ Junot waved a hand towards the window.‘No other general has won as much glory for France in recent years. Besides, the more popular you are with the people the more popular you will become with the politicians. They can hardly afford to offend you if you enjoy the support of the populace.’

‘The support of the populace . . .’ Napoleon snorted. ‘What is that worth? I tell you, Junot, that mob would be baying for my blood if we had suffered a setback in Italy.’

‘But you gave them victories instead. They are grateful. Perhaps it would be wise to recognise their gratitude, sir. And make full use of it.’

‘It would hardly be wise.They might want to see me now, and their thanks will be genuine enough for a while at least. Then they will forget me and shift their acclaim to another general, or some actor or soprano.That is the way of fame.’ Napoleon paused and stroked his chin for a moment before he continued.‘So I will not give them what they want. I will not satisfy their desire to pay their respects. I will ration my public appearances. Maybe that will make this fame of mine last as long as possible. Long enough for me to use it to win my next command.’

Junot looked at him questioningly and Napoleon laughed and patted his friend on the shoulder. ‘You’ll see.’

‘See what, sir?’

‘All in good time, Junot. Now we should get some sleep.We’ll need it in the days to come.’

Napoleon glanced round the sitting room, richly decorated and flamboyant, like its owner, Charles Talleyrand, the recently appointed foreign minister. Napoleon had been here only once before, to attend a recital with Josephine over a year ago. Even then he had been struck by the proliferation of gold leaf and lacquer that glowed with a molten luminescence in the sunlight streaming in through the tall windows. Some of the furniture was chipped and the upholstery faded, a reminder that many of the aristocrats who had emerged from the revolution no longer possessed the same fortunes that their forebears had enjoyed. Maybe so, Napoleon thought to himself, but at least they had kept their heads.

He wondered if the men gathered around him were destined for a similar fate. Any meeting of men with military and political influence in Paris was rightly regarded with suspicion by the government. If this meeting came to the attention of the Directory, then Napoleon and the others would be closely watched for any signs of treason. If such evidence came to light then all of them would face banishment, prison or the guillotine after the briefest of trials.

There were only a few guests and they sat on ornately scrolled chairs in one corner of the room, facing Napoleon: his brothers Joseph and Lucien; Junot; General Poucelle, the military commander of Paris; and Marcel Foudrier, a leading radical in the Chamber of Deputies. They were waiting impatiently for their host so that the meeting could begin.

Poucelle glanced towards the double doors on the far side of the sitting room. ‘What’s keeping him?’

Napoleon smiled. ‘Calm yourself, General. Talleyrand can be trusted.’

‘Really?’ Poucelle raised his eyebrows.‘What makes you think that? The man is a politician, after all.’

Poucelle had spoken without thinking, and glanced hurriedly at Lucien and Foudrier. ‘I meant no offence, gentlemen. It’s just that I trust some politicians less than others.’

‘No offence taken.’ Lucien shrugged. ‘I feel the same way about most soldiers.’

Poucelle glared back at him, lips compressed into a thin line. Napoleon could not help laughing, and wagged a finger at his brother.

‘Take care, Lucien. General Poucelle is more than a match for you, despite his years.’

The backhanded compliment made Poucelle add a frown to his expression as he grumbled,‘I did not come here to be insulted by a pair of young striplings. Be so good as to respect my rank and my experience, if not my person.’

Napoleon shot a warning look at his brother and Lucien nodded gently as he responded. ‘I apologise, General. It’s just that I don’t think that soldiers have an exclusive claim on morality and honour. They have as much predilection to corruption and personal ambition as the rest of us.’

‘Including your brother?’ Poucelle shot back.

Lucien looked quickly at Napoleon and nodded. ‘Including Napoleon. Otherwise we wouldn’t be meeting here.’

They were interrupted by the sound of the doors being wrenched open and turned to see Talleyrand entering the room. He shut the doors firmly and turned to limp across the room towards his guests. A birth defect had crippled his foot and he walked carefully and hid his pain behind a fixed smile.

‘Gentlemen, I apologise for keeping you waiting. I had a visitor who simply refused to leave my house until I had to be quite firm with her.’

‘I can imagine,’ Lucien muttered and Napoleon realised the implication in an instant, and looked more closely at Talleyrand. He was in his early forties, curly hair streaked with grey, yet he was the kind of fine-looking man Napoleon could imagine drawing admiring glances from the women of the salons Talleyrand frequented. He pulled up a chair and joined the others with polite nods of greeting.

‘Are we all present? Good. Then perhaps we should waste no time in pleasantries, since we are drawn here by common interest and not friendship.’ He turned to Napoleon.‘Now then, General, you have already spoken to me and some of the others, but perhaps you should explain the purpose of arranging this meeting to the rest.’

Napoleon nodded. He appreciated his host’s directness. Talleyrand was clearly not one of those procrastinating politicians who were paralysing France. At first Napoleon had not been sure about including Talleyrand in his inner circle of friends and confidants, but Lucien had vouched for the foreign minister. Since arriving in Paris, soon after the armistice with Austria had been agreed, Lucien had quickly made some useful political connections. He had traded on his brother’s reputation and used his astute judgement to foster friendships in the salons of the capital. Napoleon had been away from Paris for nearly a year and a half and the shifting alliances meant that his understanding of the political scene was tenuous. For the present he must rely on Lucien’s word.

‘Very well,’ he began. ‘Let’s be blunt, gentlemen. France needs strong government. By that I mean a body of statesmen who can co-ordinate the policies necessary to guarantee that France is ruled efficiently, in peace and war. Even though we have defeated Austria, I have little doubt that our countries will be at war again in a matter of years.When that happens we cannot afford to have our military operations left to the whims of bungling amateurs. I would have beaten the enemy far more swiftly and conclusively if the Army of Italy had been properly supplied and reinforced. It occurred to me, more than once, that my efforts in Italy were being deliberately sabotaged by my political masters here in Paris.’

Deputy Foudrier cleared his throat. ‘That’s quite an accusation, General. Do you have any proof ?’

Napoleon shrugged. ‘No. But I know how men’s minds work. There are many senior officers who have been withdrawn from active service and would like nothing better than for me to fail. There are many politicians who resent having to show gratitude to those of us who saved them from the royalist uprising two years ago. Then there are those, like General Pichegru, who despise anyone who embraces Jacobin sentiments.’ Napoleon paused and patted his chest.‘I freely admit that I am proud of my Jacobin politics. The party is the true conscience of the revolution, and the best guarantee of its survival. Most of you are Jacobins. We shared the dangers when we stuck to our beliefs after the fall of Robespierre. That is why I can place my trust in you, my comrades.’

‘All of us, except our host,’ Foudrier cut in. ‘He had the good fortune to be safely abroad while we risked our necks.’

‘I was on diplomatic service,’Talleyrand replied evenly.‘I could not help that. But my sympathies were, and are, the same as yours. The difference is that I did not proclaim them from the rooftops and get myself arrested. That is why I am foreign minister today, and not a mere deputy, my dear Foudrier.’

Foudrier glared at him for a moment before continuing bitterly,‘When I am old, and people ask me what I did during the great crisis of the revolution, I will say I held fast to my beliefs and defended them in public, even when others were being dragged off to the guillotine. What will you be able to say, I wonder?’

‘Me?’ Talleyrand smiled faintly. ‘I shall say that I survived.’

‘Gentlemen!’ Napoleon interrupted. ‘This is not helpful. Foudrier, the past is the past. Leave it be.What matters now is the future, and what we can do to make sure that the revolution retains its hold on France.’ He paused to make sure that he had their attention.

‘Peace,’ Joseph said quietly.‘Peace is the best way to ensure the success of the revolution. It’s what the people want.We give them peace and they’ll give us their gratitude and their loyalty. The principles of the revolution will live on.’

‘Precisely, brother.’ Napoleon nodded.‘Which is why England will never give us peace. How can they, while the revolution serves as an example of what common people can achieve against the tyrants who oppress them? Every day that the French republic lives on makes the rulers of England weaker. So they cannot rest until the republic is defeated. England or France must win the war, and the other must be utterly defeated. There is no third way. That is the vision that we must hold to, and must do our best to persuade other patriots to embrace. That is the purpose of this meeting.’

‘And if we can’t persuade them?’ asked Lucien.

‘Then we must be ready to take control of France . . . if ever the time comes.’

Poucelle stirred uncomfortably. ‘Some would say that is treason.’

‘No,’ Napoleon replied sharply. ‘Treason is a betrayal of your country and your people. We are protecting France.’

Talleyrand smiled at the use of the present tense. ‘Not yet, we’re not. Let us hope that we never have to assume dictatorial powers.’ He turned towards Napoleon. ‘That is what you are suggesting?’

‘I’m suggesting that true patriots do what they must in the circumstances.’

‘Good God!’ Talleyrand laughed. ‘For a soldier, you have an unnervingly sound grasp of the political tongue.’

Napoleon glowered. ‘I meant what I said.’

‘Oh, I’m sure you did. That’s what worries me.’ Talleyrand raised his hand to forestall any outburst from Napoleon or Lucien. ‘But, as you pointed out, extreme situations demand extreme responses. The trick is making sure that power is surrendered when the crisis has passed.’

‘It will be,’ Napoleon replied. ‘I give you my word.’

‘Your word? Then that will have to do. What are your plans for us, General?’

Napoleon collected his thoughts. ‘First, we must do all in our power to convince others of the need to defeat England.That can be achieved by one of two means. First, by the invasion of Britain. I drafted an outline on the journey from Milan. Of course it will require a large army, a huge number of transport vessels, supply depots, and not least of all the defeat, or diversion, of the Royal Navy.’