A Mild Case of Indigestion

by Geoffrey Watson

  Welbeloved laughed. “Yew can’t honestly expect me to regret that?”

  “There are many who would. More than you would believe. What you can believe though, is that political opportunism can jump both ways. In view of what you achieved up to and at Talavera, memories have been stirred over what you achieved on your first visit to Spain.

  Believe me, reports of your exploits have been made public and you are much more popular in England at the present time than I am, particularly with the Whig opposition. I’m told that even the Prince of Wales has admitted that he couldn’t have done better himself.

  However, my brother, who as you know is now the Ambassador to the Council in Cadiz, has delegated me to act on his behalf for the King.” He turned. “Lord Vere! Kindly find a stool or cushion, and have you got the trinkets?”

  Vere was obviously in the know. He produced a low, padded stool and stood ready with an ornate case as Wellington drew his sword and indicated that Welbeloved should kneel. He tapped his shoulders and drew him to his feet as he pinned the ornate star of the Order of the Bath on his tunic, to applause from those of his staff who were present.

  “There you are, Sir Joshua. I thoroughly enjoyed that and it didn’t hurt at all, did it? Now, perhaps we can all agree to call you by a title which you have well and truly earned."

  For once in his life, Welbeloved was quite lost for words. He told himself that all this was unimportant, then saw the evident pleasure it gave to those around him. He had to get back to the more important business he had come to resolve.

  Wellington understood. He waved at his staff. “Come along, Gentlemen. The show is over and I’m sure you have duties to attend to. Lord George! I am told that Sir Joshua is arranging a small entertainment before we discuss other matters. Now is the time to see what it is all about.”

  Vere signalled to MacKay, who stepped forward with Juanita, who was carrying one of the modified carbines. Wellington had a wicked gleam in his eye. “Good morning, MacKay. Have you brought one of your harem bearing gifts? Don’t forget ‘Timeo Danaos’”

  MacKay smiled innocently. “Almost, My Lord, though this chief concubine is now Mistress MacKay, as of ten days ago.” Juanita curtseyed. “And I am now Scottish, not Greek, Milor, and you need not fear what I bring to show you.”

  “By Gods, another Spanish Amazon, carrying off one of my best compatriots. I am devastated Madame that I received no invitation to attend your nuptials, but I demand to be permitted the traditional salutation.” He swept off his hat and kissed her heartily before turning to Welbeloved. “Are you intent on having your men marry all the eligible girls in Spain, Sir Joshua?”

  Welbeloved had quite recovered his composure. “Only when the men are worthy of the honour, My Lord. Mistress MacKay, as leader of the ‘harem’, is about to demonstrate the admirable breech lock device that our smith, Roberto has fabricated. You will have read my report this morning. I want to show you the weapon that routed a full battalion of French infantry.”

  Juanita levered open the breech, bit off the rear of the cartridge and primed the pan, then slid the rest into the breech and snapped the block shut, putting the lock to half-cock.

  The demonstration that followed in the quarry was eye opening, even for Welbeloved. The five Portuguese Ordenanza were utter novices, but managed to hit the targets four times out of five. Lieutenant Cholmondeley and the Wasps all made five killing shots within a minute. The girls, with their shorter carbines, performed equally well and the riflemen shot very creditably with the muskets. When they used their own Bakers, there was a moderate improvement in their accuracy, but it took more than twice as long to complete their five shots, when loading from a prone position.

  “Taking everything into consideration,” said Wellington when they were gathered together afterwards, “I had not fully appreciated until now, what sort of potential is encompassed in this weapon that you have created. When I say weapon, please understand that by that I mean also the method of employment; the force that you have created to deploy it.

  You said yourself, Sir Joshua, as I recall, that the army could not yet be educated to use the Hornets. I think that this is also true of your new Wasps. The Horse Guards agrees with me in this, without having the faintest notion why, except that it is new and untried and thus quite beyond their hidebound understanding. They do not wish to be involved with such outrageously revolutionary ideas.”

  He waved his hand to stifle any comment. “Bear with me, Gentlemen. I will get to the chase momentarily. Fortunately, we have a friend of vision and no little influence at the Admiralty, in the person of your mentor, Admiral Harrison. I have been corresponding with him since first I met you and we have reached a modus vivendum which is to, I trust, our mutual advantage and in the best interest of our country.

  I make no apology for encouraging the so recent and belated double recognition of your achievements. It is far easier to get what is needed when one has a genuine hero who can be seen to be leading the venture.” He paused and looked directly at Welbeloved. “The corollary is of course; and who can be blamed for its failure.

  The Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty have therefore accepted the force that you have raised onto their strength as Royal Marines. Additionally, they are encouraging a recruitment programme to bring your total force up to an establishment of five hundred, to be known as the Naval Brigade and placed under my direction while the British Army is fighting in Spain and Portugal.”

  He took a deep breath and sat back in his chair to give Welbeloved time to consider what had been said. Then, “I now have to ask you whether you are prepared to accept this command and to serve under me, on the understanding that you will continue to develop as an independent unit?”

  “Effectively,” Welbeloved mused, “I have placed the Hornets at yor disposal since first we met, in addition to continuing on the particular service covered by my orders. Do I now understand that this proposal is intended to formalise and expand this arrangement?”

  “Indeed, Sir Joshua, that is exactly how I would wish you to develop this new style of fighting. It cannot be done within the army as it would frighten the generals to death and they would kill it off in no time at all, by misusing it. Personally, I can foresee the possibility of dominating the battlefield as the longbow did, five centuries ago.”

  “My own vision entirely, My Lord, but expressed more succinctly. I have no hesitation in accepting this challenge and look to you to protect our infant from the frightened generals.”

  Wellington beamed and stuck out his hand. “Welcome aboard, Sir Joshua. I think that is conventional naval usage. I am now able to hand you these orders from the Admiralty that formalise the matter.”

  The sealed orders that he passed over were the unremarkable Admiralty pattern that he had seen many times before. What he had never seen before was the inscription, Commodore Sir Joshua Welbeloved KB RN. opposite the seal.

  He stared at it without understanding. All his service in the navy had conditioned him to believe that the rank of commodore was only held by a senior captain, not quite senior enough to be promoted rear admiral, but acting in command of a force of ships with at least one, more junior post captain under him. The command supported the rank, which reverted to captain afterwards.

  Wellington was amused by his look of confusion. “Your Service has traditions that are not always easy to comprehend for a mere landsman. I am told that the rank is ephemeral and entitles you to fly some kind of personal flag. Nevertheless, you have now taken command of a Naval Brigade under my orders. Though only half the size of a brigade in my army, it requires the services of a brigadier, which is what you will be called. I am reliably informed that the two ranks are equivalent.”

  Looking round at the two senior members of his own staff and Vere and MacKay who had been somewhat bemused onlookers, Wellington said quietly. “Gentlemen, it is not often that events proceed as smoothly and satisfactorily as they have today. It is now time for you to congratula
te Brigadier General Welbeloved and leave us to discuss other matters.”

  When they were alone, Wellington became entirely serious. “For some months now, you and your Spanish friends have been giving me information about the build-up of French forces. We have speculated that Bonaparte might come himself, but he married the daughter of the Austrian Emperor at the beginning of this month, so he is sending instead Marshal Masséna, who is reckoned to be his most able commander. He will command up to one hundred and fifty thousand men of the Army of Portugal, with the sole objective of thrashing the Leopards and pushing them into the sea.

  In order to prevent that happening, I can put sixty thousand men in the field and about half of those are Portuguese; good troops with British officers, but unproven yet. Reinforcements from England are unreliable, because most of them are the disease-ridden survivors of the ill-conceived Walcheren expedition.

  It sounds a hopeless task and the Prime Minister is bombarding me with letters, almost begging me to evacuate before we have another Corunna.

  If I didn’t think I could maintain my army against everything the French can do I would not have entertained the idea of allowing you to be isolated in Spain with five hundred semi-trained soldiers.

  As this isolation is very likely to occur, I am obliged to take you into my confidence. I am so beset by croakers that I have told no one else about my plans. Absolutely nobody can be trusted. Everybody has a friend in England to whom it is imperative that they write and tell what they imagine we are about. Within a week it is published and the French are given free intelligence about our purpose.”

  Welbeloved interrupted. “I would not wish to be the sole recipient of your confidence, My Lord. In the event that the French make the correct assumption, I would rather anything other than be thought to have betrayed a trust.”

  Wellington frowned. “You think the French will be able to guess what I intend to do, when I am not yet able to be certain myself?”

  Welbeloved grunted, not entirely respectfully. “Yew would not be the general I saw at Talavera if that were true. Yew may not be certain what tactics yew will use but yew will not convince me that yor strategy has not been decided almost from the moment yew discovered that Spanish armies are not to be relied upon.”

  The frown had gone but his manner was quite aggressive. “Doubtless, Brigadier, you are now about to tell me what my strategy should be?”

  The grin was wide. “Never in this world, General. Given that yew will be outnumbered by more than two to one and that only a third of yor army can be described as veterans; yew only have two options. One is to run for safety and have another Corunna. Yew tell me yew have already rejected that, which means that yew are going to fight.

  If yew fight in the open, yew will be beat, ergo yew will choose a defensive position. There are plenty of those in Portugal where yew can kill a lot of Frogs without much loss, but yew always risk being outflanked.

  I will wager that yew will retire to somewhere on the coast that can be defended against three times yor numbers and kept supplied by the Royal Navy. If I am right, I don’t want yew to tell me where. I want yew to tell me what I can do to make life miserable for Masséna and the men who will be deluded into fancying it is they who besiege yew.”

  There was silence for a good two minutes. “You give me too much credit, Sir Joshua. I didn’t formulate my strategy until I was back at Badajoz, well after Talavera. I don’t think there is anything else I need to say, except please let me know what you need and if it is within my power, I will see that you get it.”

  ***

  Two months later, Masséna’s deputy, Marshal Ney, attacked Ciudad Rodrigo with thirty thousand men. Wellington wanted to relieve it, but could not risk his untried army against the French veterans.

  The town surrendered ten days later and the French marched on Almeida, the fortified town that defended the Portuguese side of the border.

  The siege opened at the end of August. On the second day a French shell exploded the powder stored in the cathedral and the centre of the town was devastated. It capitulated next day.

  The twin northern gateways to Portugal had been breached and the French army poured through. Outnumbered, Wellington and his army retreated before them.

  Welbeloved, with his four-month-old, half-trained, under strength and under equipped Naval Brigade, followed on their heels. Desperate times and policies of desperation?