Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of Spain and the Peninsular War

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Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of Spain and the Peninsular War Page 14

by Herbert Strang


  *CHAPTER XI*

  *Napoleon in Pursuit*

  To the Douro--Pepito Turns Up--Four Noble Spaniards--At Sahagun--InSuspense--News from La Romana--On the Trail--War with the Elements--Wordfrom O'Hare--A Cavalry Skirmish--A Break-down

  Sir John Moore had instantly recognized the immense importance of thedespatch so opportunely discovered by Jack at Valdestillos. It informedhim of the exact positions of the various components of the Imperialarmy; it assured him also that up to the present Napoleon's ignorance ofhis enemy's whereabouts was profound. But Moore knew that afterStewart's brilliant little affair at Rueda it was only a matter of daysbefore this ignorance would be dispelled, and then Napoleon wouldwithout doubt launch every Frenchman within striking distance upon histrack. If, therefore, he pursued his original intention of moving onValladolid he would come into the direct line of the emperor's advance,whereas, with his new information about Soult's position, it was justpossible that he would have time to strike a blow at that marshal beforethe huge masses converging on Madrid could be wheeled round and hurriedover the passes of the Guadarrama in direct pursuit, or pushed forwardfrom Burgos upon his flank. That Napoleon would interrupt all otheroperations to crush him he had no doubt, and if he was to strike at allit must be at once.

  His own force numbered some 25,000 men, and he was assured from severalsources that he might hope for the co-operation of La Romana, who wassaid to be at the head of a continually increasing army of Spaniards atLeon. Thus reinforced, he would be more than a match for Soult, ifSoult, with some 16,000 men, were ill-advised enough to risk an action.On the other hand, if Soult, probably the ablest of Napoleon's marshals,resisted the temptation to close with Moore before the other Frencharmies came up, the British general would have, as he himself said, "torun for it", with one army on his flank and three others at his heels.The risks were great; the boldest general might well shrink from theordeal with which Sir John was now confronted. But Moore's courage andpromptitude increased with the magnitude of the peril; he fully countedthe cost, and, feeling bound in honour to take this one chance of savingSpain, he quickly formed his resolution and set to work with energy tocarry it out.

  Within a few hours of receiving the intercepted despatch, Moorecountermanded the advance to Valladolid, and ordered his infantry tocross the Douro at Zamora and Toro, throwing out cavalry as a screen forboth columns. When the news spread through the ranks that a rapid movewas to be made against Soult, their enthusiasm knew no bounds. Thedissatisfaction which all had felt, the murmurs which had not beenconfined to the men, gave place to jubilation, and it was with laughterand singing that the advance-guard marched out of Alaejos northward tothe Douro.

  Jack's regiment was brigaded with others to form the Reserve, and themen had to curb their impatience for some hours before their turn tomarch arrived. It was a bitterly cold day, that 15th of December, and,having performed all their immediate duties, Jack and his fellowsubalterns were stamping up and down before their quarters, wrapped inlong cloaks, and doing their best to warm their blood. They had been sobusy since Jack's arrival that there had been no time to get from him afull account of his recent adventures, but now, in their enforcedidleness, they kept up a fire of questions as to where he had been andwhat he had seen, and how it was that he had had, as they put it, allthe luck. Jack found that the simplest means to escape the bombardmentwas to give a consecutive account of the events at Rueda andValdestillos, to which his chums listened with interest, scarcelyremarking the modesty with which the narrator minimized his own share inthe bustling incidents.

  "That boy Pepito, you see," he said at one point in his narrative, "isnot quite the thorn in the flesh we all supposed he was going to be. Infact, he has the strangest knack of turning up at odd moments when hecan be of use--"

  "A regular god in the machine!" said Shirley.

  "A familiar spirit, I'd call him," said Pomeroy. "I never had muchfaith in witchcraft, but upon my word I shall soon begin to believe thatyou're in league with the powers of darkness, and no wonder you havesuch confounded luck!"

  "Talk of the--" cried Smith suddenly. "Look at that!"

  The subalterns, looking in the direction pointed out by Smith'sstretched forefinger, saw, at the other end of the street, a strangecavalcade approaching. Between two stalwart troopers of the 18th LightDragoons rode a picturesque little figure on a gaily-caparisoned mule,the rider cocking his head aloft with a consequential air that wasirresistibly comic. Behind tramped a crowd of foot-soldiers, and therear was brought up by a troop of dragoons.

  "By George!" cried Pomeroy, "it's Pepito himself, riding in like aconqueror.

  "And the French prisoners of Rueda behind him," added Jack. "I'm gladto see the boy. Giles, go and see where they halt, and bring the littlebeggar to me."

  In a few minutes Giles returned, bringing not only Pepito but a group offour rather dilapidated-looking Spaniards.

  "My friends of the Olmedo inn," thought Jack, recognizing them with achuckle. "Well, Pepito, so you've turned up again, eh?"

  "Si, Senor," answered the gipsy with his captivating smile. "And withme the four noble Spaniards, Senor."

  "So I see. You seem in high feather. You'd better tell me what hashappened since I saw you last on the way to Medina."

  Pepito stood in the centre of the group of officers, while the fourstablemen hung on the outskirts, Giles keeping a watchful eye on them.The boy, speaking in rapid Spanish, with an occasional Romany word whenhe found his emotions too much for him, told how, after being providedwith clothes by Giles Ogbourne, he had started to track the Senor, inspite of orders to the contrary. Being hungry, and having no money, hehad, on arriving at the farmhouse where Jack had met him, offered toclip the farmer's mules, such clipping being the traditional occupationof the gipsies in Spain. There he had seen Jack's plight, caught sightof the pursuers, and instantly determined the course of action headopted. When overtaken by the panting stablemen, he had sent them offon the wrong track; but they carried him along with them and threatenedhim with a lingering death if he proved to have played them false. Hewas cudgelling his wits for a plan of escape when, as luck would haveit, they fell suddenly in with a troop of French chasseurs, who capturedthe whole party, chose to assume that they were spies, and bundled theminto the watch-house at Rueda to await punishment.

  "Ay, ay, that cell!" said Pepito. "It was dark and damp and foul, andSenor knows how the Romany love the fresh air and the open sky. Butstill, there were the Busne, the four noble Busne, Senor, and when Ifelt sad I would laugh at them, and tell them what fools they were, whothe Senor really was, and how it was all their own fault if they wereshot. Oh, it was good, Senor!" The gipsy's black eyes twinkled at therecollection.

  "I'm afraid you're a mischievous young scamp," said Jack. "You'd bettercome along with me--that is, if you'll behave yourself."

  "Ta ra, ta ra! Viva!" cried Pepito, flinging his knife in the air andcatching it as it fell. "'The Romany chal to his horse did cry'"--andsinging his merry song he skipped up to Giles, and dug the stolidDevonian in the ribs.

  Meanwhile, Jack beckoned to the Spaniards, and they slouched towards himwith shamefaced sullenness. Addressing the biggest of them, he said witha smile:

  "Well, hombre, you will be wiser next time. It might have been awkwardfor you. You'd better go home by way of Salamanca, or you might happento meet some more Frenchmen. Here, you may find this useful."

  He gave the man a few pesetas, and the four dejected fellows, mutteringtheir thanks, shambled away.

  Half an hour later the order came for the regiment to march, and soonthe men were swinging along on the way to Toro. It was a fine frostyday, and the cold, though keen, was exhilarating. The road, which inwet weather would have been a mere slough of mud, was now frozen hard,and walking was easy and pleasant. Many women walked with the regiment;others, with their children, were perched on the baggage- andammunition-wagons. There was
joking and laughter; the prospect of soonmeeting the enemy whom they had been so long hoping to fight gavebrightness to the men's eyes and elasticity to their gait. ColonelBeckwith rode up and down the column, throwing a word to this man andthat, encouraging the laggards and chaffing the boasters. A little snowfell at times, causing the women to snuggle under their cloaks and themen to growl about wet boots; but during this day's march, and the foursucceeding days', the high spirits of the regiment were well maintained,and it was with surprisingly little loss by sick or stragglers that theinfantry arrived, on December 20th, at Mayorga, where a junction waseffected with the column under Sir David Baird. They moved forwardagain the following morning, and their enthusiasm was raised to thehighest pitch by the news that Lord Paget, with the 10th and 15thHussars, had surprised a large body of French cavalry in Sahagun,killing or capturing over 200 officers and men.

  When they arrived at this place in the evening, the main army found thatit had outstripped its supplies. Wagons were short, and neither food norclothing was to be had. It was therefore imperative that abreathing-space should be allowed, that time should be given forrecruiting their strength and repairing their equipment. Eager as theywere to fight, they were not sorry when they learnt that at least aday's rest was to be given them.

  But when the whole of December 22nd passed without the expected order toadvance, the men again began to chafe at the delay. Corporal Wilkes andsome of his cronies were sitting round their camp-fire on the evening ofthat day discussing the situation.

  "What I want to know," said Wilkes in a tone suggesting that he wouldrather have resented the information--"what I want to know is, why wedon't up and at them Frenchmen at once. What are we waiting for? True,we ain't had much grub, and our toggery ain't exactly what the generalwould specially admire on parade, but over yonder, where that MarshalSalt, or whatever they call him, is, there's plenty of tommy and fineclothes too, and if we could only make a move we'd very soon be able tofill our insides and polish up our outsides. Here we are, three daysoff Christmas, and where's the roast-beef and plum-pudding to come from?We'll have to sing for it, by what I can see."

  "Sing for it!" interposed Bates with a grunt. "No, thank'ee; we've hadenough of the waits. Ha! ha!"

  There was a general guffaw at Bates's little witticism.

  "I don't see nothing to laugh at," growled Wilkes, resenting theinterruption. The others looked reproachfully at Bates, who relapsedinto abashed silence.

  It was not until the morning of the 23rd that the general of theReserve, Sir Edward Paget, a younger brother of Lord Paget, receivedmarching orders. On the evening of that day he was to move his divisionforward from Grajal del Campo along the road to Carrion, join the mainbody, and halt until head-quarters should arrive from Sahagun. At thisnews the younger and less experienced men found it almost impossible tokeep still.

  "Lie down and rest, you silly fellows," said Jack to a group of men whomhe saw fidgeting about in sheer nervousness and anxiety. "Look atWilkes yonder; he knows what war is, and he's snoring away, getting agood sleep before the march to-night. Here, Pepito, just come and showthese fellows some of your tricks, and keep them amused, or they'll bedead-beat before they start."

  Pepito, who had followed Jack like a shadow ever since he had leftAlaejos, obediently went among the men, and soon had them laughingmerrily at his absurd antics and extraordinary gibberish. The bleakwinter day passed, and at four o'clock, under a gray and leaden sky, theReserve at last set out towards what they hoped was to be a brilliantvictory. The whole country was covered deep with snow. The men hadbeen ordered to refrain from talking or singing while on the march; andthus, in cold and silence, the column trudged along in the gatheringnight.

  After some hours' tramping a halt was called, and the men stood andshivered and wondered.

  "What are we waiting for now?" growled Corporal Wilkes, shaking the snowfrom his shako.

  "To let the guns come up, shouldn't wonder," returned his friend Bates."This blessed snow makes it slow work to bring 'em along."

  "I expect it's old Romana not up to the scratch," suggested Tom Plunket,the best shot in the regiment. "Very likely he's lost his way, orforgotten the date, or frizzing his moustache, or something, and that'skeeping our general waiting."

  "Humph!" growled Wilkes, "another case of to-morrer, to-morrer. Tellyou what, boys, these Dons will say 'manana' once too often. When thelast roll-call comes they'll say 'manana' as sure as fate, and thenwhere'll they be?--that's what I want to know."

  "Hush! what's that?" said Sergeant Jones, a little man known familiarlyas "The Weasel".

  A bugle-call was sounding. Every man started to his feet. Surely thetwo hours' halt was over and the battle was at hand. But no; there wasno sound of movement among the troops, no cheer from the men near thegeneral's quarters. While the men stood in a tense attitude ofexpectancy, Jack came up out of the darkness.

  "Men," he said quietly, "we are ordered back to Grajal. Fall in!"

  Not a word broke from them. Back to Grajal? But the French were notthere. Was the battle postponed again? No one appeared to know themeaning of this new order. They collected their kits, strapped on theirheavy knapsacks, and trudged despondently back over the frozen roads.

  At six o'clock that evening a note had been brought to Sir John Moorefrom the Marquis of La Romana. It read:

  LEON, _Dec. 22_.

  SIR,

  The confidential person whom I had placed on the River Douro has writtento me on the 18th inst. that he is assured that the enemy's troopsposted at the Escurial are moving in this direction.

  He adds that if the person who gave him this intelligence should notarrive the same day he would go himself to Villacastin, twelve leaguesfrom Madrid, to watch the two roads, the one of which leads to Zamora,and the other to Segovia.

  I hasten to give this information to your Excellency that you may judgewhat measures are requisite to be taken.

  LA ROMANA.

  What Moore had expected and hoped for had come to pass. It was clearthat Napoleon had learnt the British position at last, and was hasteningfrom Madrid northward across the mountains with his whole army to crushthe little force.

  "We must cut and run for it," said Moore to his staff with a hard smile."And by Jove we'll give them a race!"

  When Moore suddenly, ten days before, altered his line of march from theValladolid to the Toro road, Napoleon had not had time to learn of theaffair at Rueda. He had made up his mind that the British wereretreating on Lisbon, and had already despatched Lefebvre and Lasalle inpursuit by way of Badajos, preparing himself to back them up with anoverwhelming army of 40,000 men and 150 guns. The news of Stewart'sexploit at Rueda reached him on the 19th. It had the effect of anelectric shock. Where before had been activity, there was now feverishenergy. Couriers were sent on the instant to all parts of Spain,ordering all the scattered units of his immense force to converge onValladolid, which he persisted in believing to be Moore's objective.Mere skeleton corps were left to hold in check the shattered Spanisharmies. The rest followed Napoleon over the Guadarrama mountains, orpushed along the Burgos road to join hands with Soult.

  On the 21st, the same day on which Moore marched for Sahagun, an immenseFrench army, comprising the flower of Napoleon's troops, left Madrid.Marshal Ney, "le plus brave des braves", led the van, and he was luckyin bringing his troops across the Guadarrama in comparatively fineweather. But no sooner had he crossed than a terrific snow-storm burstover the mountains. When Napoleon himself arrived from Madrid he foundthe passes blocked with snow, guns, wagons, all kinds of impedimenta;and the advance, on which so much depended, to all appearanceindefinitely delayed.

  Map of Spain and Portugal to illustrate Moore's Campaign]

  But opposition, even on the part of the elements, only roused theemperor's indomitable energy. The gale was raging its fiercest, men andhorses were being hurled over precipices by the force of the wind. Theleading battalions had actually turned ba
ck and were making confusionworse confounded, when Napoleon appeared. Addressing the soldiers, heannounced that he meant to overtake the British at all costs. He setthousands of men to clear the drifts, others to beat down the snow intoa hard road, over which the artillery, harnessed with double teams,crawled painfully northward. He ordered the members of each infantrysection to link arms and thus help each other along the perilousmountain way. He dismounted the cavalry, and used their horses to haulthe guns. Then, gathering his staff about him, he bade them lock theirarms, and himself led the way, walking arm in arm with Lannes and Duroc.Thus, in the teeth of wind, snow, and ice they pushed up the wildmountain steeps. Half-way up, the marshals and generals, who worejack-boots, were too much exhausted to move another step. Nothingdaunted, Napoleon had himself hoisted on a gun, and sat there astride.He called to his marshals to do the same; and thus, after four hoursbattling with the elements, the grotesque cavalcade reached the conventon the summit, where, with food and wine, the rigours of the march wereforgotten.

  It was in this spirit of fierce determination that the great emperor,sparing himself as little as his troops, strained every nerve toaccomplish the end he had in view--the destruction of Moore's gallantlittle army. If La Romana's confidential agents had been napping, Mooremight indeed have beaten Soult, but only to find himself enveloped by aforce triple his own in numbers, commanded by the most brilliant soldierof the age. Fortunately, information had reached La Romana, and throughhim Moore, in time. At the moment when Napoleon arrived at Villacastin,only some three marches distant, Moore was countermanding the advance onSahagun.

  That moment marked the ebb of Napoleon's fortunes. Hitherto he hadpursued his wonderful career with scarcely a check; but the decision ofMoore on that December evening was the signal for the break-up ofNapoleon's power; it was the step that saved Europe. It diverted theemperor from his immediate purpose of conquest, and engaged his hugearmies in a fruitless and exhausting chase; it gave Spain time tobethink herself and rise as a nation. Her rising set an example toEurope, by which Austria and Prussia slowly profited, and which ledRussia, three years later, to that spirited defiance which burnt Moscowand brought destruction upon the finest army in the world.

  The British retreated in two columns, one, under General Baird, by thenorthern road to Valencia, the other, under General Hope, by Mayorgatowards Benavente. General Paget's reserve division, including the twolight brigades under Generals Anstruther and Disney, and five cavalryregiments, remained for twenty-four hours behind the main body. It wason Christmas-day that Jack's regiment received orders to march. The menwere formed up in readiness for starting. Every face was gloomy, everyheart bitter with rage. It was only vaguely known in the ranks why theadvance had been so suddenly countermanded, and the general opinion wasthat it was due to the cowardice and incompetence of the Spaniards. Theofficers remarked this spirit of sullen discontent, and Captain O'Haredetermined to make a personal appeal. Calling his company to attention,he stood in pouring rain and addressed them.

  "Now, my boys," he said cheerily, "we must put a good face on it. Thefroggies are too many for us now, and the general don't want everymother's son of you to be clapped into a French prison. We're off toAstorga, and bedad, if Marshal Soult comes within reach of our heels,we'll give him a good parting kick before Boney arrives. But remember,we form part of the rear-guard; 'tis the post of honour because 'tis theplace of danger. If there is to be any fighting, 'twill fall to us, andevery man Jack of you must keep himself as fit as a fiddle, or he won'tbe able to do what's wanted. I trust to you, my boys; and sure we'llshow that every Englishman, whether Scotch or Irish, is worth tenFrenchmen yet. Shoulder arms! Left turn! Quick march!"

  "All very well," grumbled Charley Bates, as he swung along besideCorporal Wilkes; "there's to be fighting at Astorga, he says. Thegeneral means to march us to death first, and expects us to fightafter!"

  "You shut up, Bates," said the corporal sullenly. He was just as muchirritated as his friends, but, being disputatious by nature, he wasready to contradict anyone. "I've fought under Johnny Moore before, andhe ain't one to run for nothing. And you and me, Charley Bates, has gotto show a good example to them young orficers--Mr. Lumsden an' therest,--didn't you hear Peter say so? So step out, my boy, and don'targue."

  "Hear that, Pommy?" said Jack, who was nearer the corporal than thatworthy believed.

  "I heard it," growled Pomeroy, "and I hope you'll profit by Wilkes'sexample."

  They needed all their strength of will to preserve their cheerfulness.A thaw had set in, and the road, running between fields of soft richloam, was knee-deep in slushy clay. All that day they tramped heavilythrough the rain. They halted at Mayorga for the night, and pushed onnext day to Valderas, their clothes like sponges, their limbs rackedwith pain. At the halting-places they saw the first signs of failingdiscipline. Some of the men in the regiments which had preceded themhad broken out and vented their rage on the houses of the Spaniards.Food was scarce; means of carriage were lacking; and the men were soincensed against the inhabitants of the villages through which theypassed that they seized food for themselves, and, the country being forthe most part treeless, tore down doors and sheds to provide wood fortheir camp-fires. But this marauding spirit had been as yet confined toa few regiments; the men of the light brigades were held well in hand bytheir officers, and refrained from the ill conduct of theirless-disciplined comrades.

  As they marched on the 26th and 27th it became known that Lord Paget'scavalry were having a warm time behind them. Soult had sent Lorge'sdragoons in pursuit of Baird's column, and the advance-guard of theemperor's army at this time began to appear, until the five Britishcavalry regiments were closely pressed by no fewer than thirteen French.But Paget was a consummate cavalry leader; spreading his 2400 men as ascreen to the whole army, he showed ceaseless activity in fending offthe assaults of the French dragoons, beating them time after time, andcapturing many prisoners. Every effort of the French to break throughand attack the infantry was baffled and checked. So admirably, indeed,did he handle his men, that Napoleon imagined they were twice asnumerous as they actually were.

  On the afternoon of the 27th, Jack was marching with his regiment, thefirst battalion of the 95th, along the road from Valderas to CastroGonzalo, where the river Esla was to be crossed. Behind came the secondbattalion, with other regiments, and the rear was brought up by LordPaget's cavalry. The pace had been forced for some hours, for theFrench were continually pressing closer, and Sir John Moore was anxiousto get his whole army across the river without delay. He had givenorders that when the passage had been completed the bridge was to bedestroyed, and Jack and his fellow-subalterns were disappointed thatthis task, and the chance of a brush with the enemy, would fall to thesecond battalion and not the first.

  About half a mile before they reached the village of Castro Gonzalothere was a momentary stoppage of the column, caused, as was learnt in afew minutes, by the breaking down of the last of the baggage-wagons.Jack's company happened to be the nearest to the scene of the accident,and as they halted, Captain O'Hare came up and said:

  "Lumsden, I'll leave you with a squad of men to repair this confoundedcart. It's got our whole wardrobe in it, and we can't afford to losethat. Choose your men, and don't be longer about it than you can help.You'll probably have the job done before the second battalion come up,but if not, there'll be the hussars behind to see you safe in."

 

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