All the towns, harbours and ports along that artery are a vital part of the communications with France and have been chosen by you as targets because of their importance to the enemy.
They cannot afford to put large garrisons into every one, but guerrilla sources suggest that between Santander and the French frontier, every fishing village with a church or substantial civic building is likely to have them turned into forts with small garrisons and one or two cannon covering obvious landing places.
The coast is steep-to because of the mountain chain, limiting our options and nearly every harbour is enclosed by cliffs and formed by a stream that has worn a steep-sided channel through them.
The butcher’s bill for every assault could easily amount to many times the number of entrenched defenders. Both of your marine commanders are keen to avoid such a massacre.
They have accepted that the Hornets have achieved successes, when assisting naval landings near Málaga and recently at Gijón. The two small squads of a dozen men shall be landed first, at night, to find out all they can about the harbour to be attacked and whether it is possible to wreck the defences before the boats make their assault.
It shall give each attack many more chances to succeed and I have offered my services to each commander to lead the first reconnaissance parties.”
He paused to let Popham think about it. He had presented his ideas quite deliberately as part of the responsibility of the commanders of the marines and as such, beneath the notice of the directing admiral.
He had a shrewd suspicion that Popham realised that, but was clever enough to see it as a solution to a problem, about which he had only just become aware.
Landing troops on a hostile shore was perhaps far more complicated than it appeared and this scheme certainly offered greater chances of success. It was the marine commanders who were responsible for directing the landings. He ought to leave it to them how they were to accomplish their tasks. His was after all, the overall responsibility and his would be the credit for success. He could not afford to start off with a series of bloody repulses.
Algy had been watching the play of emotions on Popham’s quite expressive face. He started to relax some seconds before the admiral spoke, but was still caught off guard with the speed of his decision making.
“I find your arguments convincing, Colonel. The Spanish marines are nominated to carry out the first attack in this area, while the British force shall continue to sail east.
Please ask Colonel Santana to choose a suitable harbour for your practice run and then come back with him to explain his plans.”
If his dismissal was somewhat abrupt, at least there had been no hesitation once the admiral was convinced. Everything then moved quickly, as if Popham had become frustrated with the slow progress of his squadron up to now and wished for no further delays.
The squadron was hove to and flurries of signal flags sent everyone scurrying to obey the new directions. It was also a marvellous chance for the admiral to get his ships practising the new code of signals that he had himself recently invented and which really did improve ship to ship communications.
Santana was rushed across to the Flagship. Fortunately, he and Algy had already discussed suitable targets for the first attempts. The choice of several small harbours between Santander and Bilbao produced a gleam in the admiral’s eye that convinced Algy that the proposed initial targets were not too distant from other, more important harbours that he had been considering already.
He made a careful note to try and investigate the larger towns of Santoña, Laredo and Castro-Urdiales, close at hand, before sailing east to rendezvous with the other half of the squadron after the attacks.
Popham was really moving quickly. He had issued very brief, but concise instructions, putting Colonel Santana in complete control of the landings, with Lieutenant Colonel Cholmondeley acting as his advisor and leading the reconnaissance parties before the main assault was rowed ashore.
The flagship and half of the squadron with the transports carrying the Royal Marine contingent were hull down when the two ‘conspirators’ settled down to plan the final details of landing Spanish marines on their own coastline to ensure as much upset to the French invaders as possible.
CHAPTER 14
Colonel Rabuteau was on his way back to join King Joseph, by way of a hazardous lone journey to the headquarters of the Army of the North and then on to Madrid.
MacKay had to think long and hard before making the decision to release him, rather than simply consigning him to captivity in England. Rabuteau knew more about the Hornets than any other Frenchman, having been their prisoner no less than three times, almost as if he was making a habit of it.
He was a senior aide to King Joseph and was now a colonel, so there was no doubt that he would be listened to very carefully when he made his report. He knew from recent experience how violently dangerous the Hornets could be and, more to the point, how many of them there were.
Many other Frenchmen knew how dangerous the Hornets could be, but they were usually the beaten survivors of some affray and French generals expected to hear exaggerated stories from beaten units.
General Caffarelli would listen to Rabuteau though. He would be told that he no longer had several thousand men in garrison in western Asturias and that the Hornets, together with marines from a British naval squadron, were moving east toward the heart of his command.
His first instinct would be to send a force to counter such a threat and that was exactly what Lord Wellington wanted; a fully occupied Army of the North.
What Rabuteau did not know was that there was another, larger squadron about to descend upon the eastern ports in Caffarelli’s command. He might be suspicious of MacKay’s motives in releasing him, but that would not stop him advising the general that a division might be barely enough to contain the western threat. He had also seen several thousand Spanish fighters and did not know that they had gone south of the Cantabrian Mountains in order to join General Mendizábal.
The advantages of letting him go seemed greater than would accrue by making him a prisoner. Anyway, MacKay liked the fellow and did not wish him to be a prisoner for the next few years. He had given his promise that he would arrange an immediate exchange of an officer of equivalent rank, being held by the French.
In the week since Popham had sailed east, the Hornets had been moving steadily in the same direction, clearing the two main roads as they went. The inland highway gave very little trouble. This was probably to be expected, as the French were naturally far more concerned about the harbours and ports along the coast, together with the seemingly anticipated activities of the Royal Navy against them.
Even this far west of the important eastern ports of Bilbao and Santander, the larger harbours had garrisons and improvised defences against seaborne attack. Churches and other substantial buildings had been reinforced and provided with cannon to cover all approaches from the sea. Wherever possible, substantial booms were in place to frustrate any larger vessel that might be employed.
For some reason, the though of an attack by land based troops had not been taken seriously and the combination of a prior attack by the Hornets with their new mortars, supported by several hundred red-coated marines swarming in from the sea, convinced the small garrisons that resistance was futile. Several hundred prisoners were shipped out and the Hornets moved east of Ribadesella.
This was a stretch where the mountains were much closer to the sea and there was only one east-west road that could serve an army. This was the area where soldiers had to concentrate into columns of march and this is where MacKay hoped to confront, on a narrow front, any force that Caffarelli chose to send against him.
He had about thirty miles of road that he could use to his own advantage. The main peaks of the Cantabrian Chain were fifteen to twenty miles to the south, but a smaller range, known as the Sierra de Cuera stood between them and the sea. There were many places where the road ran along a narrow corridor between the
sea cliffs and the rising heights of this foothill range.
He had no idea what size of force he was likely to attract. It was certain to dictate his choice of fighting ground. Even that should not be a priority though. There must be numerous places where he ought to be confident that he could stop four times his own strength in its tracks.
In addition, Commodore Cockburn would have no hesitation about releasing a full battalion of his marines to defend a chosen site and demonstrate to the French that this was an onset to be taken very seriously indeed.
He sent out A and D Companies under the overall command of Captain Percy Tonks, with his erstwhile lieutenant Jack Woodward, now promoted captain of A Company in place of Algy Cholmondeley.
The two companies would reconnoitre as far eastward as necessary, until they found out what response Caffarelli was making and whether he truly believed everything that Colonel Rabuteau would have reported to him.
MacKay went to talk to the commodore once more. Firstly, he wanted half his marines and secondly, he wanted to suggest that the civil authorities in the ports and towns that had already been cleared of the enemy, no longer needed the support of the small detachments of redcoats on loan to them.
The local guerrilleros; the only elements likely to indulge in looting and other lawless pursuits, had been swept up into the bands that were now on their way to join General Mendizábal. The local mayors should have had time to reorganise their own law and order.
He was hardly back from the flagship when news came back from Tonks that Caffarelli was regarding the threat from the Hornets very seriously indeed. Whatever it was that Rabuteau had told him about the Hornets and their fearsome abilities, must have reinforced the impression made by the loss of some thousands of garrison troops and the appearance of the redcoats when Oviedo surrendered.
Percy Tonks could not yet give fully accurate figures, but it was certainly more than the single division that MacKay had guessed would be the upper limit. Also they were not making a leisurely march. Cavalry patrols could be expected within three days.
The last part of the despatch raised a wry smile. I assume that these numbers are greater than anticipated. Do you require that cavalry reconnaissance should be discouraged to slow the advance?
The question was most pertinent. He could have been caught off guard. French armies always seemed to be able to move twice as fast as any other when they had to and he would welcome a few extra hours. There was a lot to be done.
With this sort of strength facing him, he had to think strategically as well as tactically. They had enough force, not only to attack head on, but also to attempt to outflank him using the mountain track south of the Sierra de Cuera. It was narrow, it was steep and it was atrocious, but light infantry could use it and they must be stopped before he had French in front of him and behind.
He sent the messenger back with the instructions: Retire before them but let them know you are there. Discourage any impertinence. If necessary, detach Woodward to deny them use of mountain track south of Cuera Mountain, up the valley of the rivers Deva and Cares.
Two days later, Tonks rejoined with D Company, giving MacKay three companies of Hornets, four mortars and six hundred marines to hold a small village and the eastern Asturias’ coastal road against the best part of two divisions of the Army of the North.
A Company was ten miles farther south on the other side of the four and a half thousand feet Cuera mountain range. Jack Woodward had led his company up the eastern bank of the Deva without, at that stage, knowing whether any of the French were following.
If they were not, he had the option of crossing to the Asturian side of the river and making his way back to the main road, hopefully before the French main army got there.
They were following! As far as he could tell, there were several hundred chasseurs à pied and maybe a couple of companies of voltigeurs; all light infantry and, in theory, able to skirmish.
Compared to the Hornets, that was a matter of opinion and Jack did not hold that opinion. Nevertheless, if they were able to outflank the Hornets on the main road, then six to eight hundred men could be a problem. It was for the best if it was not allowed to happen.
He took his company at a gentle canter, in view of the shocking state of the road, out of sight of the French detachment, before they guessed he was there. He reasoned that the enemy would make better time if they thought the road was clear. That would bring them into his chosen ambushes so much more quickly.
Once they had climbed farther up the steep river valley there had to be numerous places where the track ran with a steep drop on one side and an even steeper climb on the other. They may have six or more times his numbers, but there were places where he would surely be happy to stop them dead with just one of his platoons. It would not be a Spanish mountain track otherwise?
* * *
MacKay was fractionally less optimistic. His Hornets were back to three-quarters strength and he had the support of six hundred of Cockburn’s marines, but the coast road was much more difficult to defend and the French were paying him the enormous compliment of outnumbering him by about nine to one. He hoped that they were not aware of the fact and anyway, he found difficulty in regarding it as a compliment.
Because of the mountainous nature of this part of Spain; surprisingly it really was hillier than many other parts; the coastal road tended to run at a considerable height above the shoreline. Even the fishing villages had many of their houses on top of the cliffs and clinging to the sides of the valleys cut by the mountain streams.
The first defensive position that he chose was one of these villages, built around the curve of a valley, almost a gorge, two or three hundred feet above the foot of the steep, narrow street that led down to the small harbour.
The road sloped gently down into the top part of the village and out at the far side. It was, however, cut into the side of the hills surrounding the valley and access was severely restricted on both sides by steep slopes.
Heavy infantry could use the road, but would be hard put to manage a file of a dozen men across the head of the column. Any skirmishers would have to contend with steep slopes above and below. Their front would be restricted to less than a hundred yards unless they were equipped as mountain goats.
An army coming from the east would not see the village until its vanguard came round the curve of a hill and found the first houses only eighty yards ahead. There was only one way through and it could only be outflanked by a thirty-mile detour along the track that Jack Woodward was guarding.
When Captain Percy Tonks rejoined, he was able to report that the enemy vanguard was about six hours behind and that it was made up almost entirely of light infantry. Their cavalry had long since given up the unequal struggle with the retreating D Company, who had caused casualties out of all proportion, on the single, restricted highway.
MacKay considered that he was as ready as he could hope to be. It had been a surprise to be told that he could be facing up to ten thousand men. It would have been an unwelcome surprise had he not found such an impressive defensive position, but he reasoned that if Lord Wellington wanted Caffarelli to be kept occupied, he had already succeeded far beyond his expectations. In addition, he had made life much easier for Admiral Popham and General Mendizábal.
He was a little concerned that the sheer numbers likely to come against him might cause the rifles to overheat. Although they could deliver ten aimed shots in just over two minutes, they would then be quite hot. Like all thoroughbreds they could then become temperamental and it was wise to let them cool down for a short while.
If it actually came to that, he did have six hundred marines behind cover in the village. They had been trained by the Hornets and had muskets that they had been shown how to ‘improve’. He reassured himself that he had no cause for concern at all.
One of Cockburn’s young midshipmen, on special loan to the Hornets, lowered his enormous telescope. “Titan is signalling, Sir. It is nautical language b
ecause the signal book was written for the Navy. She reports many squadrons closing within two cables of the headland. A nautical cable is about two hundred yards. Does that tell you what you need to know, Sir?”
“It tells me nearly everything, Mr. Farley. Can ye ask if they see any cannon?”
“Certainly, Sir. Shall you indulge me for five minutes?”
MacKay nodded and a string of flags was run up a makeshift mast. It seemed much simpler than he remembered, probably because of the new signal system that Admiral Popham had introduced.
Farley came running back. “Affirmative, Sir. Gunboats, numeral four in the vanguard.”
“That may serve, Mr. Farley. For gunboats I read batteries o’ guns. I shall expect tae see up tae twenty guns early on.”
He blew a series of short blasts on his whistle to put everyone on the alert, then bellowed toward his wife, who was standing close to where the mortars had been emplaced, behind built up walls of stones. “Hold your fire, Juanita, until ye see cannon at the bend!”
She waved her bonnet in acknowledgement and everyone waited for the first uniform to appear.
Suddenly, half a dozen green-clad voltigeurs were in sight, all keeping close to the rising ground on their left. The rough treatment meted out to their horsemen had taught them all that caution was essential in dealing with this new enemy.
MacKay had ordered everyone to remain out of sight and even the red-coated marines were crouched behind stone walls or cottage windows.
The vanguard perhaps, may be reassured by the peaceful scene, even if the sight of a British warship, half a mile out to sea, may have caused some suspicions?
Not many, as what went on away from the land was a complete mystery to most soldiers of France.
The sergeant and five men of the vanguard spent longer than MacKay expected, studying the village in front of them, without attempting to move forward. MacKay’s glass showed him that they did not appear to be interested in the slopes to their left and right. They were paying a great deal of attention to the village itself, from the houses alongside the road at the top, to whatever they could see of the slope down to the small harbour.
The Confrontation at Salamanca Page 17