by Griff Hosker
I chose Captain Moreno and ten of his excellent horsemen. Joe Seymour handpicked the ten troopers and I chose Cornet Williams to accompany me. Poor Percy was distraught. “But sir, he is new and he has no experience.”
“Then this will give him experience. The general will need you and Captain Stafford here. Besides I can get to know him a little better.”
We took six of the captured French horses; they might become useful and they also carried the tents we would use. It was coming on to autumn and I had heard that, while it rarely rained, and when it did it was a deluge. We also took some civilian clothes; I did not tell General Moore that we did so. He might not have understood the need. He was a soldier who obeyed the rules; I was not. We left Torres Vedras and headed east to the fortress of Badajoz. We were taking the war to Spain and the French invader.
Two of the Portuguese troopers had been chosen by Captain Moreno because they had grown up on the border. Antonio and Carlo also spoke Spanish. It was they who led the way and scouted for us. I made the troopers form the two different troops to pair up. I wanted the Portuguese to learn English and vice versa. Another part of me knew that it would make them closer as a fighting unit. I wanted them to become one force.
Luis was charmed by young Cornet Williams. He was barely seventeen. I had been a soldier at the same age but I am certain I never looked as young. I was not even certain if he had begun to shave yet. He was, however, a bright lad and soon began to pick up the language. The two of them got on well.
We were going to camp when Luis pointed out that there was a small village some way ahead. Coruche might have an inn was his plea. I balanced the thought of the men having drink with the thought of a warm night and reaching Badajoz sooner. We pushed on.
Arriving just after dark the large village appeared to be deserted. There were no lights. Had we been alone I would have carried on but Luis found the largest building. He dismounted, walked up to the door and rapped smartly on it. An ancient blunderbuss emerged until Luis began to speak. They were too far away for me to hear and I was beginning to regret not camping while we had daylight.
Then the door opened and a man emerged. Luis brought him over to me. “Sir, this is Senor Morello the Prefeito of Coruche. We are welcome to stay the night but he has a story to tell you first.”
I dismounted and handed my reins to Sharp. “Cornet Williams, go with Sergeant Seymour and see that the men are safely billeted. I will not be long.”
The old man took us into his living room. There was a fire but the room did not feel homely. He gestured to a seat and poured me a beaker of wine. It was a rough but honest brew.
“The captain tells me that you are a Colonel in the Portuguese Army.”
I nodded, “But I serve in the British army.”
“Yes but it is important to me that you fight the French for Portugal.” I could tell that he had something important to tell me and I had to be patient.
“The captain said that you seek a Frenchman with a scar and some Portuguese nobles.” I was suddenly all ears and I leaned forward eagerly, nodding. “A week ago French soldiers guarding two coaches came to the village.” He shook his head, “You must understand that we are a peaceful village and we wanted no trouble. We watered their horses and we thought that they would be on their way. We heard a Portuguese lady telling us that these men were murderers. Some of the young men in the village…” He covered his face and shook. I let him compose himself. “It is my fault. I am the Prefeito and I should have controlled them but since my wife died I have lost the will to make such decisions. The young men tried to rescue her and the French slaughtered them. The ones they did not shoot they hanged. They took the silver from the church and killed the priest when he tried to stop them. All the time I cowered in my home.” He shook his head. “It is my fault.”
“The lady you tried to rescue is a strong woman. Had she known what would have resulted from her call she would have remained silent. Had you intervened then you, too, would be dead and we would not know where they went.”
“Is that true or are you trying to make an old man feel better about having lived too long?”
“No. I speak the truth. Now tell me where they say they were going?”
“I do not know for certain but I did hear one of the Portuguese drivers say that they had another two days of hard driving ahead of them,” he spat into the fire. “They were traitors. If I see them again then they will die.”
“Two days of hard driving would take them to …?”
“Badajoz.”
It was confirmation of the information I had gathered in Lisbon and I was pleased that I had taken Luis’ advice and visited the village.
We found the same story the further east we went. It seemed the scar faced Frenchman felt he could act with impunity and take whatever he wished. We found one small village where the bodies of the hanged men still swung beneath trees and the discarded bodies of the women and girls lay ravaged in their homes. My troopers were as grim faced as the Portuguese when we buried them.
Poor Cornet Williams was pale as we laid the last stone on the graves. “Sir, how can soldiers do this to women and girls?”
“They are not soldiers, Cornet. They might wear a uniform but they are not soldiers.” I had known too many like the scar faced Frenchman, Colonel Laroche. They were not the Chasseurs like Jean, Pierre and Albert. These were politically connected and hid behind the Revolutionary and now Imperial doctrine. They would never stand in line and defend a flag. They would change their masters with each change of the wind.
Joe Seymour put the spade back in the house even though there were only ghosts in the village. He had overheard the Cornet. He spoke to him like a big brother. “You will soon learn the difference, sir. When the major catches them then they will wish they had never been born.”
As we went back to the tents the Cornet asked me, “Sir, the men said that you have killed many men.” I nodded. “Were they all in battle?”
“No Cornet. In serving my country I have had to end the lives of many enemies of the king. When we catch these animals they will receive justice. It is more than they deserve but we are not like them.” He handed me a mug of sweetened brandy which Luis had concocted. “When you have to take a life do it swiftly and do not hold back. If it is someone else’s life or yours then you will need to be ruthless. It is easier killing on a battlefield where you have no time to think but the men will look to you, Cornet. Do not let them down.”
“I won’t sir.” He sipped his own brandy and coughed a little. I smiled. It was a potent drink. “Sir, why did you bring me? Lieutenant Austen has more experience.”
“So that you can gain experience.” I waved a hand around the troopers who were talking, haltingly, with the Portuguese. “You are young and inexperienced but before we return to England you will have to lead these men. You should know them and they should know you. This week will see you become part of the 11th Light Dragoons.”
We camped just five miles from Badajoz. Our local troopers had told us that we had crossed the border but you would not have known it. The terrain was the same. We could see the river winding past the imposing border fortress. It lay on the southern bank and guarded the bridge over the river. There was a flag flying but we were too far away to see what colour.
We had our pairs of guards out as usual; one trooper and one Portuguese. I had the rest gathered around me. I told them my plans. It was difficult for I had to do it in English and then Portuguese. I was gratified that each seemed to know some words of the other’s language. The trip had borne fruit already.
“Tomorrow I will take Sergeant Seymour, Captain Moreno and six of the Portuguese soldiers into Badajoz. We will try to find out where the hostages are. Sergeant Sharp and Cornet Williams will scout the perimeter of Badajoz and find out what defences there are outside of the town. We will meet back here tomorrow night.”
When I had explained all, they nodded. Alan did not look happy. I knew why. He hated letti
ng me out of his sight but I needed someone who could speak Portuguese. Joe could speak a little but not enough to command the Portuguese. Cornet Williams asked, “What if some do not make it back to the rendezvous?”
I spoke slowly, “We assume that they are dead and return to the General.” To make it clear I spelled it out. “If we are captured, Cornet, then you will be in command and you will return to Lisbon and report to Sir Moore. Is that clear?”
He looked pale, “Yes sir.”
“Now get some rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”
As I lay down in my blanket I heard Sergeant Seymour say, “Don’t worry Mr Williams. The major won’t leave you behind. He doesn’t want you risking your life for him. That’s the way he is.”
We changed into our civilian clothes and left two troopers at our camp to guard our tents and clothes. Sergeant Seymour and I rode French horses. We left Badger at the camp. The docked tail on Joe’s horse was a sure sign that it was English and Badger, although he did not have a docked tail was such a striking horse that he would have stood out. We wished to be anonymous.
We rode in groups of twos and threes. The two local troopers had told us that there were a number of gates into the town and we each took a different one. Our rendezvous would be in the square close to the cathedral.
Two of the Portuguese rode in before us. I allowed a good gap to avoid any suspicion. There were two French guards at the gate. They gave a cursory look at the two troopers who were ahead of us and then allowed them to pass. “Let us dismount, Joe. They rode in and we will walk in. You are my Portuguese servant. The French will not know that you can barely speak the language.”
“That’s good then, sir, because I am bloody awful at it.”
“From now on speak only Portuguese even if it is just yes and no.”
He nodded and we led our horses towards the gate. I had decided on a story already. I was a wine maker from northern Italy; close to Nice. It would explain why I could speak both Italian and French. Joe was my guide. I was visiting the region to buy some red wine to supplement the fine rose wine of that region. I had learned that if the story was in my head then even if I did not need to use it I was more confident.
The Corporal put his hand against my chest. “Where are you going?”
He said it in French and I replied in the same language but I accented it slightly. “I am travelling through the region buying wines for my business.”
He laughed. I noticed that both of them were a little overweight and a little old. These were not the front line troops we had fought at Vimeiro. “When there is a war going on?”
I shrugged. “We saw no war in Lisbon. There were some unhappy people but no war.”
He leaned in to me, “Well I would buy your wine quickly and get out because the war is coming.” He stepped back and patted the walls of the fortress. “And I am happy to be behind these thick walls. Pass through and watch these Spaniards. They would steal the coins from a dead man’s eyes.”
And we were through. I saw the perspiration on the sergeant’s brow. He could face an enemy charge without blinking but subterfuge was not in his nature.
We continued to lead our horses. It afforded a disguise. I was mindful of Sir John’s mission and I examined every French soldier that we saw. There were not many. This was a scratch garrison drawn from the dregs of the army. The cathedral dominated the city and was easy to find. I saw the others there. I handed the reins to Joe and told him, in Portuguese, “Just walk around the square. I will come back to you. Smile at people and keep your eyes open.”
We had decided that four of us would go into bars and see if we could find where the prisoners were being held. The two local troopers, Luis and I would try to blend in. I saw a lively looking place with a great deal of noise coming from within. I wandered in. It was crowded and that was unusual for it was not lunchtime yet. I saw that a quarter of the clientele were French artillerymen. They appeared to be in the same sort of condition as the others we had seen. The rest of the customers were a mixture of working girls and traders. There appeared to be some sort of auction going on.
I made my way to the bar and managed to order a jug of wine. One sip told me that it was one step away from vinegar. It would be easy to nurse it. Two men cleared a space and, as they spoke, I realised that they were French. They shouted in poor Portuguese for silence. One of them then stood on a chair and held a cloth over an object. Like a magician he whipped the cover from it and I saw that it was a fine painting. It was a fine painting I had seen before; it had been hanging in the Regent’s chambers at the palace of Queluz. These were the men I sought.
They auctioned a number of items and they each went for a high price. Before the last one was sold I left the bar and walked into the Cathedral Square. I saw Joe and I waved him over. I pretended to be looking at one of the hooves of my horse until the two men came out. The one who had been selling carried the large bag with the money while the other held a naked sword. They were taking no chances. I saw in which direction they were heading and we set off slowly. They soon overtook us; the one with the sword pushing me aside in the process. We carried on a little faster and followed them. When they came to a narrow street I handed my reins to Joe and removed my hat and coat. I followed them through the street and they emerged into a smaller square. There was a large white building ahead and I stopped in a doorway to watch for there were two armed guards outside. As I watched a figure came out on to the balcony and waved at the two men from the auction. He had a long scar running down his cheek. I had found the hostages.
Waiting until all but the two sentries had gone in I wandered across the small square. I did it purposefully as though I was going somewhere. I was watched every inch of the way by the two guards. I continued beyond the building. Fifty yards later I found myself in another small square and there was a stable. As there were no guards around, I opened the door and entered. There was a coach and ten horses. They were all fine animals and I knew that they came from the palace at Queluz. I quickly left. The road was wider and I followed it for another sixty yards until I reached the eastern gate. To my left rose the castle itself and the garrison. It was an imposing looking fortress. The gate was still open and there were another two sentries there guarding the entrance.
Rather than retracing my steps and risking the scrutiny of the two sentries I headed along a row of small shops and workshops which ran parallel to the wall of the fortress. I took a right as soon as I could and entered a maze of streets. Eventually I found myself in the square in which I had left Joe. I could see him looking nervously around. I reached him. As he handed me the reins he said quietly, “The captain and his men have left the town. I think they are going to close the gates soon.
“Follow me.” We mounted and I led him down the narrow street towards the house where the prisoners were being held. The two sentries had their weapons in their hands as we clattered through. We carried on without looking at them. When we reached the eastern gate the sentry held up his hand.
“We are closing the gates soon, my friend. It is dangerous out there. There are Spanish Guerrillas who will slit your throat.”
I held out my hands in apology. “My servant and I must get back to my home with medicine for my sick father.”
“Be careful then and God speed.”
The road turned south as soon as it left the fortress. There was a ford across the stream and then the road headed south. We were forced to follow it. I saw another small fort to the west and there was a track which ran alongside it. We had to get back to the west and the camp. I took the road. As we passed the fort I could tell that it was deserted. It was light enough to see that the ramparts had no sentries. I stored that information. Eventually the track joined the road down which we had travelled. I wondered why I had not noticed the fort when we had entered the city earlier that day.
As soon as we reached the road Joe began to chatter. “And Sharpie has done that sort of thing before sir?” I nodded. “He’s ha
s got bigger balls than me then, sir. When I was waiting for you I was terrified.”
“And you looked it. Listen Sergeant if you have to do something like that again, don’t look as though you are on guard. Smoke a pipe. Smile at people as they pass. Fiddle on with the horse’s saddle. Do anything so long as it doesn’t look as though you are watching.”
“But how do you watch then, sir?”
“Surreptitiously.”
Luis and the others were watching anxiously when we reached the camp. They had bought some food in the city and brought it with them in terracotta pots. It was still warm and more than welcome. As we ate he reported what they had seen.
“We did not see the hostages nor the man with the scar. My men searched but they could not find the coaches. I am sorry, Colonel.”
“Do not worry I found both the hostages and the coach. How many sentries did you see?”
“We found four gates and there were two men on each gate. The exception was the northern gate at the bridge over the river. There were eight men there and the fort on the other side was manned too.”
“Good then I have my plan.”
After we had eaten I gathered them around me and, using the soil as a drawing board I gave them their instructions. “Sergeant you and the Cornet will wait at the deserted fort, as soon as it starts to get darker then you head towards the castle gate. We will have to risk you being seen. Perhaps the sentries will take the blue uniforms as their own. If we are pursued it is up to you to hold up the enemy.” I turned to Luis, “You saw no cavalry?”
“We saw neither cavalry nor horses.” He smiled, “Your eyes are sharper than mine Colonel.”
”Perhaps I just knew where to look. Cornet you need to have two men with the spare horses. If we have to we will ditch the tents. We can sleep rough if we have to.”
The Cornet looked shocked, “But sir, you said one of the hostages was an elderly lady.”
“She is Cornet and she is a tough one too. I want you to make sure that the men and horses get a good rest tomorrow during the day. I want to use the night to put as much distance between us and the French before dark. I want to reach Portugal before we rest.”