by Griff Hosker
After I had told Major Simmons, the commanding officer of the 20th, of his new duties I returned to the squadron. “Troop Sergeant Grant, make sure the farrier has shoed all the horses and that every trooper has enough equipment which is in working order.”
“We off again sir?”
I knew that if I told the sergeant that we were heading to Spain then it would be around the whole camp like wildfire. “I can’t really say Sergeant. Sir John and the Earl of Uxbridge seem to like us, George. There is only number 8 Troop which has not been in action. I think we should be ready to go off into the wild blue yonder sooner rather than later.”
“Righto sir.”
Of course I did not need such discretion with my three officers. I could trust them completely. I told them to be ready to move in the next few days. “We cannot rely on accommodation each night. Have your servants check the tents and the blankets. Use the spare horses as pack animals.”
“Why not use wagons sir?”
Percy answered Cornet Williams, “Because young Cornet Williams, where we are going wagons cannot pass!” He tapped his nose, “Our last patrol gave us an idea of where we will be going.”
The orders were sent out to the army on the 9th of October. I was charged with delivering the copies to the commanders.
‘The Troops under Lieutenant-General Sir John Moore will hold themselves in readiness at the shortest notice. All heavy baggage will be left in Lisbon. Directions will be given with respect to the sick. The Lieutenant-General sees with much concern the great number of this description and that it daily increases. The General assures all troops that it is owing to their own intemperance that so many of them are rendered incapable of marching against the enemy.
And in the course of the long march which the army is about to undertake, and where no carts will be allowed, the women would unavoidably be exposed to the greatest hardship and distress, commanding officers are therefore desired to use their endeavours to prevent as many as possible from following the army. Those who remain will be left with the heavy baggage.’
I knew that only six women to every hundred men had been allowed to travel but that still left many. There were many who would manage to hide amongst the soldiers. I was just pleased that we had brought none.
We were due to leave on the 11th and on the 10th I sought out Donna Maria. “We will be leaving in the morning. If you wish to come with us I could have an escort take you to Oporto.”
She had shaken her head, “God intended me to be here and to look after the palace. I will be as safe here as anywhere.” She had placed her blue veined hand on my arm, “Tell me honestly Roberto, can you win?”
“If Napoleon does not come then yes, I believe we have a chance.”
“But you know that the Emperor is coming do you not?” I nodded. “What will he do if he comes here?”
I saw fear, for the first time on her face. “I believe that, while he would be ruthless to soldiers he will treat women honourably.”
“Good.” She pulled my head down so that she could plant a kiss on each cheek. “And you take care of yourself and the sergeant. I will still be here when you return.”
And I said goodbye.
The army left the next morning, a solitary drumbeat announcing its departure. The 11th were appointed the guides along with Colonel Trant’s Portuguese Brigade. Its numbers were down as there had been much sickness and some desertion. The delay in Lisbon had cost us dear. They would come as far as the border and then return to Lisbon.
We left a couple of days later, allowing us to gather valuable intelligence. It proved vital for we learned that both the French and Spanish were manoeuvring in Aragon. Even though the main French army was still north of the Ebro it threatened Sir John Hope’s column. We had kept ten troopers from the 20th as messengers and General Moore sent one to General Hope telling him to avoid Madrid at all costs.
We finally left Lisbon on the 27th of October. The autumn rains had made the roads slippery. It was hard enough on a horse but on foot it would have been almost impossible. General Moore was worried about our lack of intelligence. “Major Matthews, as invaluable as you are to me here I need to use your eyes and ears. Take your squadron and ride to Salamanca and Valladolid. I need to know what awaits us there.”
There were just ninety other ranks and the officers and sergeants. We were not a large force. When I reported to the Earl of Uxbridge he was pleased that we would be the advanced guard but unhappy about spreading the cavalry so thin. “We are relying too much on the Spanish, Matthews and I do not like having to split our forces.”
“I know that the General feels the same my lord. His hands are tied.”
“Keep me informed eh Matthews?”
“Yes my lord.”
Once again we were heading into foreign territory. The position of both our allies and our enemies was fluid. I knew that the British Ambassador, Hookham Frere, was still in Madrid and I took some consolation from that. We reached Ciudad Rodrigo quite quickly and found that there were Spanish troops there. There were just a handful and they seemed very nervous about the proximity of the French. We pushed on to Salamanca where there was an equal air of fear. I sent two troopers back with the news. It meant that our army would not meet an enemy; not yet anyway. If Salamanca was filled with worried Spanish then at Valladolid they were positively terrified. French soldiers had been spotted less than a day’s ride away. I sent two more troopers back and then headed south towards Madrid. I knew that I was exceeding my orders but the French had been seen in that area. Sir John’s flank was vulnerable.
We headed up the Guadarammas mountain chain. The trails were rough. They twisted and turned as they wound their way south. We were nearing the crest when Cole and Giggs galloped in. “Sir, we saw some French ahead.”
“Sergeant Seymour, bring the first ten troopers with me. Carbines at the ready.” We followed my two troopers.
“Just over the rise sir. They look like they are sleeping. We couldn’t see any sentries.”
“Horse holders!”
I led the other six troopers and we approached the rise. I could see the blue uniforms and Cole was right. The Frenchmen appeared to be sleeping. They were slouched over rocks and lying on the ground. I waved my arms and the others spread out to the left and right of me. As we drew closer the smell told me that they were not sleeping. The guerrillas had found the twenty man patrol. Some of them had died in the skirmish but as we entered what had been their camp we saw that eight had been captured alive. Two of them had been emasculated. Four more had had their stomachs ripped open while the last two had had a fire lit on their living bodies. I heard one of the troopers vomiting.
There was an unpleasant task which had to be done. It would be down to me. “Sergeant Seymour, take the men back to the column and carry on south. I will catch you up.”
Sergeant Sharp said, “I’ll help you sir.”
Sergeant Seymour asked, “Help with what Sharpie?”
“Searching the bodies, Joe. They might have information.”
It was a grim but necessary job. We discovered the identity of the men and they had maps. Other than that we learned nothing. Had we had time we would have buried them but such niceties were luxuries we could ill afford.
We never reached Madrid. The blue column flanked by Chasseurs told us all that we needed to know. There were French troops between us and Madrid. More importantly they were headed towards Salamanca. General Moore needed to know that.
I detailed two troopers to take the news to the General and we retraced our steps. Captain Stafford asked, “Valladolid or Salamanca?”
“The General had planned on meeting the other two columns at Valladolid. I know that he won’t be there yet but we need to see how close the French are.”
We were just five miles from Valladolid when darkness fell. I sent 8 Troop back to Salamanca with Captain Stafford and I took the smaller 7 troop to scout out the town.
“Percy, you stay here with the bu
lk of the men. Sharp, Seymour and Lightfoot you come with me.”
The town looked quiet but I would take no chances. When we saw the first building loom up in the twilight I took the patrol to the right. I was looking for a side street or alley. I took off my Tarleton helmet and signalled for the others to do the same. I saw a small street which ran parallel with the main road and I took it. As soon as I could I led them down an alley. I dismounted and handed the reins of my horse to Lightfoot. I went first towards the end of the alley where I could see some light.
I peered around the corner and I saw that the street was almost deserted. This was a quiet town. I decided to take a chance. I waved at the others to remain where they were and I stepped on to the street. I walked down it towards the main square which I could see in the distance. This was a busier part of the town. There were people in sight. I smiled and gave a half bow when I met anyone. I knew that they were surprised at my lack of headgear. I began to regret taking off my helmet although it marked me clearly as British.
Suddenly I heard French voices ahead. I looked around for somewhere to hide. There was nowhere and so I leaned against a wall and examined the sole of my boot. I hoped that the approaching Frenchmen, and I assumed they were soldiers, would pass me by. I did not look up but I did take out my knife and began to clean off some imaginary and invisible deposit from the sole.
One of them said, “Spain is a filthy country is it not?” I could smell the drink on his breath.
Without looking up I nodded and said, “It is worse than the left bank in Paris!”
They both laughed, “That is the Sorbonne! What can you expect from students.”
“A spell in the army is what they need, Jacques.”
“You are right Antoine, good night, my friend.”
“Good night.”
I looked up as they carried on down the street. Soon they would realise that they had not recognised me. In such a small town, they would know everyone. I saw that they were Chasseurs. I had had a blue uniform but I could almost read their thoughts as they tried to work out which blue uniformed cavalry were in Valladolid. I walked after them. They began to slow and I hurried. I still had my stiletto in my hand. They were quite close to the alley where my companions waited. They stopped.
I took a chance, “Did either of you drop this gold Louis?”
I distracted them by holding my left hand with a closed fist. They both looked at it. Instead of opening it I slashed across the throat of one man with the stiletto blade and I punched the other with my fist. He fell backwards. “Sharp. Seymour.” The two of them ran from the alley just as the man began to rise. I was on him in an instant and I punched him with the hilt of the knife. The two sergeants finished the job by hitting him on the head with the butt of a pistol. “Get him in the alley.” I looked around. The street was empty still and I dragged the body of the other French horseman into the alley. I dumped him there.
“Put him over your horse Sharp. Let’s get out of here. We can tell the General that there are French horsemen in Valladolid.”
Percy was relieved to see us and he and the others formed a rear guard behind us to allow us to watch the prisoner closely. The Frenchman had shown signs of coming to but Sharp’s dagger pricked into the side of his neck silenced him. There could be French vedettes out and we wanted no alarm sounding. When we reached Salamanca we saw the camp fires of the cavalry. The rest of the vanguard had arrived. The nervous sentries asked for identification.
“Major Matthews of the 11th with the patrol. Where is the Earl?”
“The big tent in the middle of the camp, sir.”
“Percy, you see to the men. Sharp come with me. I am sure that his lordship will wish to question this man.”
His lordship had a camp table with a lit lamp upon it. The colonels from the cavalry regiments were gathered around him.
“I have a prisoner, your lordship.”
“Pon my word Matthews but you are a fine fellow. Bring him into the light.” He saw the blood on my uniform. “Is that your blood, Matthews?”
“No sir, his companion.”
Sharp had his hand on the Chasseur’s shoulder in case he tried to run. We could see, clearly, that he was a Chasseurs à Cheval . His lordship asked, in French, “How many of you are there?” In answer he spat on his lordship’s boots. “We’ll get nothing from this fellow. Have him taken away.”
I stepped forward. “Do you mind if I try, sir?”
The Earl nodded, “I will be interested to see if you manage to get anything from him.”
I nodded. The man had not reacted to the earl’s words and so I assumed he could not speak English. “Sergeant Sharp, have your stiletto handy in case we have to persuade him to cooperate.”
“Yes sir.”
The Earl asked, “Persuade him?”
I took out my own stiletto which made the Earl’s eyes widen and I held it close to the Frenchman’s crotch. “Persuade him.” Lifting it to the man’s face I ran my finger down the side of the glistening steel and I smiled, “Now then… Antoine is it?” He nodded. He was less confident now. “I am going to ask you some perfectly reasonable questions. If I do not get the answers I like then my sergeant will begin to cut pieces from you.”
“But you are English gentlemen, you wouldn’t.”
“I once met Fouché, you know. He is no gentleman. I also recently killed one of his thugs, a Colonel Laroche. You are just a trooper why should your pain worry me?” For the first time Antoine showed a little fear. “What is the name of your regiment?” I pointed to the uniform. “I do not understand why you and your friend have different facings.” I tapped his collar and then his facings with the point of my knife. “These indicate that you should be the 1st Chasseurs but your friend was the 3rd. Are there two regiments in Valladolid?” He hesitated. “Come Antoine, what harm is there in that answer? You rode through our camp with us. We are not afraid of just two regiments.”
“We are one regiment; the 1st Provisional Chasseurs.”
I patted him on the back. “There, that was easy was it not?”
He smiled weakly.
“Of course the picket duty in such a place must be annoying.”
“It is.”
“I bet your Brigadier makes you do all the work while he slopes off and has a good drink.”
“He does. Is it not the same in the British cavalry?”
“Sometimes. I would not know I am an officer and do not do picket duty. So there are neither infantry nor artillery in Valladolid.”
He started to move and Sharp restrained him. “I didn’t say that.”
“No but you said you had to do picket duty. We both know that if there is either artillery or infantry around then cavalry are excused picket duty.”
His face gave me the answer. I did not like deceiving him but I needed to get the information one way or another. At least I had not inflicted any pain in extracting the information.
“It looks like there is just a regiment cobbled together from the remnants of others.”
The Earl laughed and shook his head. “Pon my word you are a remarkable fellow. Still it means the French are in Valladolid and that scuppers the General’s plans. Now the question is, do they have the little Emperor with them?”
The English and French for Emperor are similar enough that Antoine showed the recognition in his face. “Where is the Emperor then Antoine? Still hiding behind Josephine’s skirts? Or perhaps he is playing with his turbaned Africans?”
I had deliberately angered him. He tried to get to me but Sharp held him firmly. “How dare you insult the Emperor! He is with his Guards and they are but four days from here. When he comes you will pay for your insults.”
“Well there you are your lordship. He is four days away with the Imperial Guard.” The Earl nodded, “The question is does he know that we are this close to him.”
“You have done well, Major Matthews.” He turned to his aide, “Delancey, take this fellow to the guard tent. The g
eneral may wish to question him when he arrives.”
Sharp stepped back to allow the aide to escort him out and, as the young lieutenant stepped forward Antoine grabbed the officer’s sword and lunged at his lordship. Even as the tip touched the Earl’s pelisse I slashed my stiletto across his throat. The blood sprayed the shocked lieutenant as the Chasseur fell dead. The Earl picked up the sword. “Thank you Major, I am much obliged.”
Chapter 19
Sir John reached Salamanca on the 13th of November. The rest of the army was spread out along the road from Ciudad Rodrigo. Our news just added to the bad news he brought with him. Napoleon had reached Burgos on the 11th. He was far closer than we had thought. The Spanish general, Joachim Blake had been defeated at Zornosa and there were French reinforcements joining Bonaparte’s already huge army. The Spanish army had fled to the hills. They would harass the French but they were no longer a fighting force. General Hope and the artillery were still to the south and Bonaparte was between us and General Baird.
He looked at the ceiling of the tent as though to get divine inspiration. “And as far as I know the only Spanish army is one made up of peasants. We will wait a few more days and see if General Castanos can reach us. Even a peasant army might give us the numbers we need to hold off Bonaparte.”
He did not sound particularly confident and I did not blame him. If Bonaparte had his Imperial Guard with him then he could have an army of over one hundred thousand. Even when Sir John Hope joined us we would have less than twenty thousand men. They were not good odds.
Until the bulk of the army reached us I was back with Sir John. Lieutenant Stanhope had grown up during the campaign. Before we had left Lisbon he had seemed like a typical young officer; he liked parading in the fine uniform and enjoying the Lisbon social life. The weeks on the road had reduced his bright red uniform to the same rusty colour as the rest of the army. It had run into his grey breeches making them a strange brown colour. His hair had grown and he was not as clean shaven. However it was not in the outward appearance where the changes were most apparent. He had grown up and matured as an officer.