Dalrymple’s expression hardened. ‘I thank you for the lecture, Wellesley, but I think you misjudge our enemy. Junot’s attack yesterday was clumsy and ill-considered. He underestimated the British army and paid the price. I will not repay him in kind.Who is to say that he is not preparing a trap for us even now? He has been in Portugal long enough to learn the lie of the land.We have been here a matter of days and I say it would be rash to throw caution to the wind and rush after the enemy. So we will wait until Moore arrives, and then consider the situation. That is my decision, gentlemen. If that is quite all right with you, Wellesley?’
Arthur felt anger pierce his heart. Dalrymple was evidently the kind of commander who was inclined to jump at the least shadow. He was wrong to sit here at Vimeiro and wait for more men, Arthur was certain of it. Even though the chance to crush Junot utterly had been lost the day before, the advantage still lay with the British, if they acted now. But Dalrymple was his superior and he had made his decision. The matter was settled, whatever Arthur may think. So he kept his mouth shut and nodded.
‘Good!’ Dalrymple smiled and clapped his hands together. ‘Now then, gentlemen, I suggest we repair to lunch. My staff have prepared a modest feast down on the shore, by way of a celebration of yesterday’s battle.’ He turned to Arthur.‘Now that at least will be to your taste, eh?’ Then he laughed at his unintended pun, and Arthur forced himself to smile as the other officers joined in.
Before he could respond there was a sudden pounding of hooves outside the tent. A moment later a young infantry captain entered the tent and snapped to attention in front of Arthur, his chest heaving from his wild ride.
‘Sir, beg to report that—’
Arthur raised his hand.‘I am no longer the commander of the army. You should address yourself to General Dalrymple.’
The captain glanced towards Dalrympe uncertainly and the latter frowned. ‘What is it?’
‘Sir, beg to report that the enemy has sent an officer to our lines with a flag of truce. He says that General Junot wishes to discuss an armistice.’
‘An armistice?’ Dalrymple looked surprised for an instant before a smile spread across his countenance. ‘Already? By God, the campaign is as good as over. Have this French officer brought here at once.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The captain saluted and turned smartly on his heel to leave the tent. Once he had gone Dalrymple looked round at his senior officers. ‘An armistice, then. It would seem that Junot is a beaten man after all. One battle and the enemy is humbled.’
That was stretching the truth a bit far, Arthur reflected. Junot had been given a reprieve, and would naturally seek to turn any truce to his advantage. Even though he had lost on the field of battle, he might yet secure a victory of sorts over the negotiating table.
Dalrymple dismissed all his officers save Arthur and Burrard, and passed the word for an honour guard to be assembled outside the tent. Shortly afterwards came the sound of horses approaching, and the British commander led the way outside to greet the French officer formally as he dismounted.
At a sharp word of command the company of grenadiers lining the approach to the tent snapped to attention and presented arms. The French officer pulled his sleeves down and straightened his jacket before striding towards Dalrymple. As he approached Arthur saw that the man was about the same age as himself and, judging from the proliferation of gold braid on his blue uniform coat, a general officer. His hair, streaked with grey, was tied back in a short tail, and though his features were heavy there was an intelligent spark in his eyes. He smiled slightly as he stopped in front of Sir Hew and bowed.
‘General Kellermann at your service, sir.’
His English was good, Arthur noted, though there was a faint accent to it that he could not immediately place.
‘Sir Hew Dalrymple at yours.’ The British commander returned the bow with a nod and gestured to the two men at his side. ‘May I present Sir Harry Burrard, my second in command, and Sir Arthur Wellesley.’
Kellermann’s eyes fixed on Arthur for a moment before he turned his gaze back to Dalrymple. ‘May I offer my congratulations on your fine victory yesterday, sir? I have never seen such magnificent troops as yours in battle. Steady as a rock and yet handled with a lightness of touch that does full credit to you, sir. I only wish our men had been equal to the occasion.’
‘Ah, yes . . .’ Dalrymple replied awkwardly. ‘The truth is that I have only just arrived, General.You were defeated by General Wellesley.’
Kellermann glanced at Arthur with an appearance of surprise. ‘I am confused. Surely in your absence General Burrard would have been the ranking officer.’
‘General Burrard did not reach the field until after the battle was as good as won,’ Dalrymple explained.
‘Ah, I see.’ Kellermann nodded, then turned very deliberately to Arthur and bowed. ‘Then it is to you that I offer my congratulations.’
Arthur bowed in return, sensing the irritation of both his superiors.
Dalrymple cleared his throat. ‘Yes, well, you’d better come inside the tent, General Kellermann.’
He led the way inside and the three British officers took their seats behind the table while Kellermann settled opposite them.
‘Now then,’ Dalrymple began, ‘you wish to discuss terms for an armistice.’
‘Yes, sir. My superior, General Junot, has authorised me to negotiate for the complete withdrawal of French forces from Portugal.’
Dalrymple’s eyebrows rose. ‘The surrender of Portugal?’
‘In effect, sir, yes.’ Kellermann nodded, then drew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket.‘The detailed terms are set out here. I have taken the liberty of translating them into English.’
‘Your command of our tongue is commendable,’ said Arthur. ‘But I cannot quite place the accent.’
Kellermann smiled.‘I had the honour of representing my country at our embassy to your former colonies in America.’
‘Ah!’ Burrard nodded. ‘That explains the coarseness of the accent.’
‘For which I apologise.’ Kellermann smiled again as he passed the sheet of paper across the table. ‘Now, if you wish to consider the terms proposed by General Junot.’
Dalrymple looked at the document before passing it on to Burrard, and then Arthur read through it. Junot proposed to surrender every fortress and town in Portugal and evacuate the country. In return he asked that his gallant and generous British opponents should permit the repatriation of his army to France, together with all its equipment and property. When he had finished Arthur lowered the document and looked up at Kellermann with a feeling of concern. If Dalrymple accepted the offer, then the French army would be spared to fight another day. To be sure, lives would be spared, but the opportunity to truly humiliate the French would be lost. Junot had shrewdly calculated that he could at least save his army if he offered to quit Portugal without a fight.