Chapter 220 Resistance Is Futile?
It was six o'clock in the evening, and the sun over the horizon began its descent, casting long shadows that stretched across the war-torn landscape.
General Lafões walked around the City of Elvas to check the aftermath. It was worse than he had expected. The city was leveled, all the buildings were turned into rubble, and casualties were in the thousands, injured or dead. The morale was at an all-time low with the Portuguese troops just sitting there on the floor, shivering, and staring blankly in front of them.
"The troops are shell-shocked, General," his officer said. "I don't think we'll be able to repel the invasion if they are in that state."
General Lafões, nodded grimly, not only the soldiers, but the officers were shocked at the firepower of the French new artillery. It was their first time seeing it.
"The firepower of those French artillery pieces... it's beyond anything we could have imagined," General Lafões replied and continued. "We knew they had advanced weaponry, but this level of destruction..."
As he spoke, a rumble of distant thunder echoed through the air, causing both men to look up. But this was no ordinary thunder; it was the sound of approaching cavalry. General Lafões squinted toward the horizon, where a cloud of dust was rising, accompanied by the rhythmic thumping of hooves.
His officer followed his gaze. "Shit…the French and the Spanish are charging towards us!"
General Lafões strained his eyes, trying to discern the identity of the approaching forces. As the cloud of dust drew nearer, the outlines of riders became clearer, it was the French and Spanish, riding side by side.
They were roaring, their war cries echoing across the field.
General Lafões could feel his heart racing, his palms sweaty, but he couldn't let fear paralyze him.
"Everyone form a line now!" he barked at his officers. "We need to defend this city or Portugal will fall!"
The officer nodded, rushing off to relay the orders. But as General Lafões turned his attention to his troops, a sinking feeling settled in his chest. The soldiers were still sitting there, unmoving, their eyes vacant and haunted. The impact of the artillery barrage had left them in a state of shock, their minds unable to process the horrors they had witnessed.
"Listen up!" General Lafões shouted as he pulled out his musket pistol. "If you don't form a line I will shoot you!"
No response. The soldiers continued to sit there, their faces blank.
"Damn it!" General Lafões muttered under his breath. He approached the nearest soldier, crouching down to meet the man's gaze. "Soldier, we need you to snap out of it. We're in the midst of battle. We can't afford to freeze up."
The soldier blinked, his eyes unfocused. General Lafões grabbed his shoulders and shook him gently. "Listen to me! Look around you. Are you just going to let this happen without fighting back?"
"I-I'm…sorry…General…but..I-I-I can't…" the soldier stuttered, his voice trembling.
General Lafões locked eyes with the soldier, his grip on his musket pistol tightening. "You think you're the only one scared right now? We're all scared. But that's no excuse to give up. You're a soldier. You made an oath to defend your country and your people. Now, stand up and fight!"
But it was futile, the soldier didn't waver.
"I–I just want to go home…General…"
"Fucking cowards!" General Lafões yelled in frustration, his voice echoing across the city of Elvas.
He turned to the rest of the troops, his eyes blazing with anger. "You think this is what Portugal raised you to be? To sit here like sheep waiting to be slaughtered?"
The soldiers shifted uneasily, some avoiding his gaze, others looking down in shame.
"General…it's not just the soldiers not obeying your orders, but also the officers," his closest officer said. "General, if the men won't fight, then we can't defend the city of Elvas, and if we can't defend the city of Elvas, Portugal will surely fall. Our forces are already decimated by more than half, and those who survived are in shock and out of their minds. Fighting the French and the Spanish with those troops is suicide. You can save them, General."
"What are you insinuating?" General Lafões flickered his gaze to his officer. "That we surrender?"
"General, even at the start, you knew that we couldn't defeat the combined forces of the Spanish and the French. This is all just a show to prove that the Kingdom of Portugal is willing to defend its country. But the artillery pieces of the French and the Spanish are beyond anything we could have anticipated. We need to think of our people, of those who are left. Surrendering might be the only option to prevent further bloodshed."
General Lafões stared at his officer, narrowing his brows. "You want me to wave the white flag? To give up without a fight?"
The officer's voice was steady. "I want you to consider the lives that can still be saved, General. We've already lost so much. If we continue down this path, the casualties will be even greater."
General Lafões clenched his fists, torn between his duty to defend his country and the reality of the situation before him.
"General, they are getting closer. If we don't raise the white flag, they will decimate everyone in the city. They won't hesitate, they have gone so far as to fire those artillery pieces. We can fight another day."
"There will be no another day," General Lafões interjected. "If we were to surrender to the French and the Spanish, the domination of the French Republic in Europe is certain."
"Be that as it may, General," his officer continued, "we are standing on the precipice of annihilation. The lives of the men and women in this city are at stake. We must make a choice that saves the most lives."
General Lafões stared hard at his officer, his mind wrestling with the harsh reality of their situation.
The approaching enemy forces were now almost within sight, their banners fluttering in the wind.
With a heavy heart and a final glance at the troops who had once looked up to him for guidance, General Lafões nodded slowly. "Prepare the emissary to negotiate terms of surrender."
His officer nodded in agreement, and quickly set about making the necessary arrangements. As the white flag was raised above the shattered city of Elvas, a hushed silence fell over the remaining troops. Their shoulders sagged, their weapons lay forgotten at their sides, and defeat hung heavy in the air.
The French and Spanish forces arrived at the city and scanned at the surroundings.
"So this is the damage it caused by those beasts…" Godoy remarked.
"I never imagined it to be destructive…but we have achieved our goal here…Elvas has fallen," Saint-Cyr said. "Now let us go and negotiate with their general."