Santocildes agreed that half these cavalrymen and light infantry could come under Welbeloved’s command for an immediate advance into León. The rest of his army would follow at a comfortable pace, ready to react to whatever mischief the Hornets could stir up, but also ready to scuttle back to the mountains if things went wrong.
It meant that Welbeloved would have over two thousand men under his orders. Six hundred would be Hornets and the fifteen hundred cavalry ought to be superior to any of the ten thousand Frenchmen that were said to be occupying the area north of the Tagus and south of the Cantabrian Mountains.
Hopefully, the rest of the Army of Galicia would not be too far behind. All that was required was that the French divisions facing them should be totally committed against them and unable to assist Marmont when Wellington advanced.
* * *
Whatever it was last year that MacKay had done to Colonel Quintana, it was marvellous to behold a Spanish grandee who had aspired to change himself into a professional soldier. Particularly noticeable was the lack of any sign of that prickly obsession with personal honour and status that most Spanish aristocrats must absorb with their mother’s milk.
Welbeloved watched him carefully. It was evident that he had acquired a different set of values and they were all formulated on his perception of how the Hornets worked, based on the short period; the few weeks when MacKay had put him and his officers through hell, while bringing them up to a standard that the Hornets could work with.
His officers had suffered and learned with him during that short period and had been allowed to claim the lion’s share of the praise for their courage in the rout of a large French infantry unit.
Now they had all become members of his military family and there was almost as little formality among them as there was in the Hornets. Welbeloved reflected on the evident truth that the more arduous the training for any group of fighting men, the more they became welded into a family of comrades, completely comfortable with each other and trusting in each other’s judgement; possibly because they knew in advance what that judgement was likely to be.
Fortunately for Welbeloved, the problem that he had inherited with the command of a small brigade of Spaniards was made much simpler by this hero worship. The two colonels in command of the infantry and cavalry were anxious to agree to anything he wanted, if only he would lead them to success and prestige. They had enjoyed a brief period of success last year, before the French had found enough troops to run them back into their mountains. Above all, they wanted to savour those delights once more.
The commanders sat together to discuss what was to be done. Actually, such was their respect and awe of this major general and conde, who spoke to them as if they had all been intimate friends for years, that they sat and did little more than listen to him.
“I have to say, Gentlemen, how enormously impressed I am with what you have succeeded in creating with your own commands in such a short time. I have to tell you that had the same offer been made to me by Lord Wellington with a similar brigade of English soldiers, I should have done my utmost to refuse. Quite simply, no one is capable of working with my Avispónes who has not benefited from some degree of training from them.”
They stared at him as if they could not believe their ears, but he just grinned at them and continued.
“Think about it, Señores. Consider what my men did when they instructed all of you last year. Firstly, they showed you how to make yourselves fit. It is essential for any good soldier. Great stamina may be needed at any time and the enemy never lets you know when that time shall be.
Secondly, they showed you that, handled properly, you can rely on your muskets to kill a man at fifty paces, when the French generally cannot guarantee to hit you at twenty-five.
Thirdly, to make sure that the French cannot hit you at twenty-five paces, we have shown you why we wear dirt-coloured uniforms and shoot with only our heads showing.
The fact that since we last saw you, your regiments have been practising all these disciplines makes me proud to lead you out ahead of the rest of your army. I am confident that you can face double your numbers of Frenchmen and rout them with little loss to yourselves.”
Quintana could not contain himself. “Your men taught us much more than you have said, Señor General. They showed us how to be soldiers like yourselves.”
Welbeloved held his hand up to stop him. “When we are together like this, we are comrades-in-arms and as the English say ‘not on parade.’ In such circumstances my own officers use their given names. They generally, out of respect for my great age and wisdom, call me Sir Joshua, though Captain Diego Blanco invariably says Don Joshua. Please use whichever is easier for you and try and do the same among yourselves. It shall draw you together as a family of brothers-in-arms.
But, in reply to your observation, Don Luis,” he nodded towards Quintana, “I am sure that you shall find that anything else that you learned was only the application of your acquired superiority of fitness, marksmanship and concealment; mainly the first two as I am told that you were very visible last year.”
This produced a laugh at Quintana’s expense, but he hardly seemed to notice, having become very thoughtful. Welbeloved took advantage of the silence to introduce them to his plan for the next two weeks.
Addenbrooke had just been made brevet lieutenant colonel of the Avispónes, the Spanish battalion of the Hornets, as had Fernando Gonçalves of the Portuguese Vespãos. Welbeloved nodded to him.
“Colonel James Addenbrooke here is to lead out our vanguard of three companies in the morning. He is now about to tell you how he plans to work with the three squadrons of cavalry that I shall ask you to select, Don Luis.”
Addenbrooke sat forward and addressed them in excellent spanish. “We are to form the vanguard and forward scouts for the army, Señores. Once through the passes and out onto the plains we shall spread out into three companies on a broad front and the four platoons in each company shall act as they always do in such situations.
The only difference is that for a week at a time, each Hornet platoon shall have a troop of your cavalry merged with it so that they can see at first hand how we employ the three principles that Sir Joshua has spoken about.
Your army shall follow behind us and cannot travel quickly. We estimate two to three weeks before it reaches the area of Astorga and Benevente. This shall allow us time to rotate each cavalry troop to ride with us for one week. I shall be honoured if Don Luis shall ride with me to observe how well it works.”
Colonel Quintana beamed his pleasure and Welbeloved hastened to continue with his own instructions, directed mainly at the light infantry officers.
“Colonel Addenbrooke shall likely be travelling more quickly than he has planned if your six companies of light infantry are as fit as I expect them to be
The reserve squadrons of cavalry shall act as your vanguard so that each company can concentrate on serious marching and skirmishing and weapons training that is to be provided by Captain Diego Blanco and his wholly Spanish C Company.
Diego and many of his men fought Marshal Soult to a standstill at the bloody battle of Albuera. We chose him and the best of his men to join the Avispónes. He is a charming gentleman, but he does not like the French and you may do well to warn your men that he can become a little intolerant of men not giving their utmost when training to fight the invaders.
Your light infantry companies shall march. All of them! Officers may leave their horses with the following wagon train. It shall not be too arduous. I shall lead you myself and if you cannot keep up with an ageing general, you may wish to march with the women Vespas who help to manage our wagon train.
Most of them have suffered at French hands and all of them have killed their share of Frenchmen. Don Luis remembers them well. Keep up with them if you can, but it is advisable to be courteous when speaking to them. They can be dangerous.
Until tomorrow morning then, Señores! The horsemen shall start at sunrise: everyone el
se, one hour later. The infantry shall carry musket and fifty rounds and rations for two days.”
* * *
Lieutenant Colonel Addenbrooke had taken the trouble to read MacKay’s report on his previous visit to the Army of Galicia. As he was quite cynical about the ability of any Spanish army to do anything right, he had resolved to keep his battalion quite apart. If that was not possible, he was resigned to starting all over again from scratch.
The demi-brigade of muted green skirmishers and cavalry had been a revelation, particularly as they were so obviously keen on practising all they had been taught, even to the extent of imagining military problems and thinking of their own ways of dealing with them.
It had been his idea that Welbeloved had accepted without question, to merge each Hornet platoon with a troop of green Spaniards, paying them the compliment of regarding them as equals under further instruction. It was a conceit that the cavalrymen accepted as mere myth, but which did wonders for their morale and increased their determination to exceed the expectations that the Hornets might have of them.
It did help that the Avispónes of C Company were Spanish to a man and that less than a year ago their standard of training had been little different from that of their current pupils. It was a fact that C Company were reluctant to admit and all the more keen to impart their specialised knowledge; quite casually of course; to impress these quite promising beginners.
Having established a routine with mixed scouting parties, way out in front, the first two days was a gentle walk in groups of platoon/troop strength, practising alternate riding and marching to keep the horses fresh.
Frequent stops at suitable sites for target practice, emphasised the Hornet obsession with marksmanship and encouraged the officers to become proficient. Many of them were still wrestling with the ingrained belief that gentlemen did not carry muskets.
To help them overcome their distaste, Welbeloved had brought thirty of Roberto’s carbine conversions. These had become available since Evans’s company had received modified Bakers for one of his platoons. Quintana and his officers suddenly found that they had a weapon that could kill at two hundred yards and began to plead for more time to be allocated for target practice.
Addenbrooke left it to Quintana to decide who should receive them when the squadrons changed over at the end of the week. The Hornets still needed breech-loaders for some of their growing number of wagon train Wasps, so this was indeed a handsome gift for the colonel’s men. No more would be forthcoming.
Once out of the mountains and onto the central plateau, Addenbrooke spread the men out so that each of his enlarged companies could cover a front of twenty miles.
The scene of Santocildes’s confrontations last year was forty miles to the east. There was no expectation of meeting substantial forces of the enemy within this area, but it was becoming more and more fertile as they advanced and the French must surely forage on a regular basis?
The more foragers they could intercept and capture, the fewer troops would be left and the more memorable would be the instruction that the cavalry received.
Welbeloved and the light infantry were only a day behind the vanguard. Light infantry marching pace was faster than for line regiments and in order to test the men to the limit, he introduced one or two stretches where they double marched. Each time it was only four hundred paces that they covered at an easy trot.
At the end of the second day, he made one or two interesting discoveries that had not been evident before. Firstly, as he had been bragging that he was ten years older than most of them, he now noticed that this was indeed the case. Secondly, he had spent the last year directing the activities of a small division of men and spending much less time taking an active part in those activities.
He was still able to more than hold his own with the light infantry, but what had been an easy stroll had now become a noticeable effort. The Hornets, the girl Wasps and even his wife were all skipping along with ridiculous ease and he hated it when he convinced himself that they were making the pretence of not finding it easy at all, just to save his feelings.
Not that his wife would ever pretend, but she did have that incredibly smug look that every husband could read as ‘I told you so’ when she hadn’t said a word.
The Spanish light infantry had few problems with the pace. They may not have been accustomed to cover the ground quite so quickly when marching in column, but they always walked everywhere anyway and this was only an extension of their normally relaxed progress.
It was the officers of captain and above that suffered most. All of them were routinely mounted and it was very easy to acquire the bad habits of the cavalry, who hated walking anywhere.
The three lieutenant colonels and their commander, Colonel Rafael Sotomayor, marched with Welbeloved and it was a matter of honour that they should match everything he could do.
Welbeloved’s secret weapon, as on many occasions in the past, was MacKay’s harem, the girl Wasps and valued members of the wagon train. They marched with the small squads of Hornets that led each Spanish company. It had been arranged that at least one was with each company and the captains and majors would rather have died than be shown up by women in front of their entire company.
It became easier after two days, when they came out of the mountains into the merely hilly plain and were able to spread out ten to fifteen miles north and south of Ponferrada, with their first objective, the walled town of Astorga, twenty-five miles to the east.
They knew that their cavalry units were spread even wider, so that, safe from surprise, each company could indulge in an orgy of skirmishing practice and weapons drill. It would be a week before the rest of the army of Galicia put in an appearance; plenty of time to advance at an easy pace and perfect all those arts that the Hornets could teach them.
They were also ideally placed to react quickly if their cavalry vanguard came upon French foraging parties in greater strength than they were willing to tackle. Such an event was worth praying for. They would never be in better shape to avenge some of the humiliating defeats that Spanish armies had suffered in the last few years.
CHAPTER 3
The small port of Avilés was quiet and tranquil. It stood at the head of a long lagoon, cut by winter torrents over many, many years. The lagoon was three miles or more long and had the torrents been of much greater volume, they could have cut a much deeper channel to shelter large naval vessels and create a respectable naval base.
As it was, the fishermen were most content that they had such a well-sheltered haven against the notoriously fickle moods of the Bay of Biscay. They were also grateful that it was their neighbour, Gijón, a dozen miles away on the eastern shore of the Cabo de Peñas, that was deep enough to attract all the trade from bigger ships and many naval vessels. It meant that they could get on minding their own business without the aggravation of strict naval control.
The Cantabrian Mountains stretched along most of the northern coast of Spain and the small fishing harbours almost invariably had high cliffs around them and a mountain stream running through them into the sea.
This was familiar territory to Major Algernon Cholmondeley. He had been captain of A Company two years ago when MacKay had led them into Gijón to capture the frigate Gloire and recapture the British brig-of-war Proserpine.
All three towns in this area then had substantial French garrisons, unlike now when there was no sign of soldiers in Avilés and judging by the general air of torpor, had not been for several days.
It was time to press on towards Gijón, but mindful of the squadron just offshore, he sent the two midshipmen to the estuary of the lagoon. Commodore Cockburn would need to know that Avilés was clear and that Gijón was the next port of interest. It did seem a good idea though that the squadron should remain unseen from the town in case a sudden surprise attack was called for.
The young gentlemen could no doubt arrange to set up a signal station on the Peñas headland, behind which a whole fleet could hide un
til the time was right.
He would also prevail upon Doña Juanita, Mistress MacKay, to take a party into Avilés and haggle with the fishermen. The Hornets would appreciate fish for dinner, especially if they were the big, succulent merluza, the fat hake that abounded in the Bay of Biscay.
A and B Companies swarmed out over the cape, making for the cliffs overlooking the harbour at Gijón. A messenger was sent to inform MacKay that the port would be under passive observation only. This could easily be changed to deny entry to any troops fleeing from Oviedo ahead of C and D Companies.
* * *
The message brought a smile to the lips of Hamish MacKay. He thoroughly approved of the promotion of young Algy and he could read the meaning behind the written words. Algy Chumley was sitting down outside Gijón and was itching to be up and about, rather than waiting for MacKay to join him.
That part about French refugees from Oviedo was really a thinly disguised call for MacKay to stop wasting time and deal with the town so that Algy could set A and B Companies loose again.
MacKay was not exactly wasting time, but he did have a problem that needed resolving before he could join the rest of the Hornets around Gijón.
That problem was the French garrison of Oviedo. Strictly speaking, it was the remains of the garrison, as he had learned from the Spanish inhabitants of surrounding villages that two thousand of them had marched east, only a couple of days before.
There were probably about a thousand men left behind the walls. They were quite strong walls and a thousand was a truly awkward figure. He had three hundred Hornets with him and would have had no reservations about attacking them in open country.
Winkling them out from behind stout defences was another matter entirely, even if he had managed to surprise them and get his men over the walls.
Before he could consider that, the guerrilleros had casually surrounded the place and the French had shut it up like a clam.
The Confrontation at Salamanca Page 3