by Griff Hosker
We had a short respite and then the French came again. This time they sent a light infantry screen and a horse battery. “Right boys, one volley and then get the hell out of here!” We watched as the French battery began to unlimber.
The Royal Horse Artillery needed no urging and they quickly double shotted the barrel with ball and grape. The double crack of the cannon and ripple of carbines sent a pall of smoke towards the French. The guns were limbered before the smoke had cleared. “Bugler, sound retreat!
As my men streamed down the road I unslung my rifle and waited for the smoke to clear. The cannon had done their job well. One of the French guns had been knocked from its trail while the other had no wheels. The crews lay strewn across the road. I sighted on the colonel who began to urge his men forward. I breathed slowly and squeezed. At a hundred and fifty yards it was not a difficult shot and I watched the colonel tumble from his horse and lie clutching his shoulder. I turned and headed up the road as balls zipped around me.
Chapter 22
Lugo was the last stop before Corunna. I was the last soldier to arrive in the town on the 6th of January. Sir Edward shook me by the hand as I rode in. “Damned fine show sir!” He spread his arm. “There you are sir! Food!”
I was less concerned for myself than for our horses. “Is there fodder for the horses, sir?”
Sir Edward looked at me as though I was speaking a foreign language. “Not sure what you mean sir.”
“Never mind, Sir Edward. The French were bringing more guns up.”
“Right, Major, we will get some defences prepared. You will find the town a little crowded, the whole of the army is here now.”
I found the Earl of Uxbridge with Sir John and Lieutenant Stanhope in the small bar they had commandeered. Colborne was busily writing orders in the corner of the room.
The Earl looked up as I entered. “Damned fine show, Matthews. We may get out of this intact yet eh?”
“Sir, there is no fodder for the animals.”
Sir John looked up, “I know Matthews. That is because I am embarking the cavalry. They are too valuable to lose and we are close enough to Corunna that we should not need them. From now on the Light Brigade and the Royal Horse Artillery can keep the French from snapping at our heels.”
The Earl patted me on the shoulder, “Your chaps have done a damned fine job Matthews I will look after them and see that they get home safely.”
“Yes sir.”
Sir John jabbed a finger at the map. I intend to give the men a couple of days here to recover and then push on.” He looked up at me. “I need to know how many men Soult has with him.”
I nodded. I could see where this was going. “Yes sir, and you want me to find out.”
“Precisely, now get a good night’s sleep and leave before dawn. I shall stay here until the 9th. That will give the cavalry time to embark.”
Lieutenant Stanhope chimed in, “That is, sir, if the admiral has arrived.”
“The Navy will not let us down Stanhope. They will be there.”
“By your leave sir. I’ll just go and see to my chaps.”
The exhausted troopers were busy attending to their horses. The infantry might be gorging themselves on salt fish and hard tack but my troopers and officers were fretting over animals which were close to exhaustion. “Sir, there is no fodder for the animals!”
“I know Troop Sergeant Grant. However you are all leaving for the coast. You are to be embarked.”
They all smiled at that but Percy suddenly said, “You said, you. Are you not coming with us, sir?”
“I am afraid not, Lieutenant. The General still requires my services. Sergeant Sharp and I will be staying.”
The air of excitement evaporated like a morning mist. “Sir, that is not fair. You and Sharpie have already done so much. Can’t someone else do it?”
“I am afraid, Sergeant Seymour, that it is our lot to be used like this; however you can do me a favour.”
He brightened, “Anything sir.”
“I would exchange horses with you. You have the one we captured from the French. I would not risk Badger again and I know that you will look after him.” The sergeant nodded. “And there is one more thing. You remember that baby we found by the road?”
“Baby Martin? Yes sir.”
I reached into my pocket and took out five gold pieces. “If you pass that family on the road then I want you to make sure they get on the ship with you. I don’t know why but I want that baby and that family to survive. If you find them and they get back to England, pray ask Sergeant Major Jones to find the woman work in the laundry.”
He took the money, “I will sir and we will find them! That is a promise.” There was no doubt that he would do what I asked of him.
“Sir, you are coming back aren’t you!” The Cornet looked almost terrified.
“Yes Cornet Williams but… let us just say that a French horse will be more useful and… expendable.”
I caught Sergeant Sharp’s eye and he nodded, “Er Cornet Williams, you have a captured horse, I would like Maria saving too. She is a lovely horse.” He grinned, “If you speak to her in French.”
The cornet smiled, “It would be my honour Sergeant but, truth to tell, Sergeant, the one I have been riding is not the best horse. I suspect she is going a little lame.”
“Then she will be perfect, sir. I am not certain that the ones the Major and I take will survive this little patrol.”
As the sergeants left to inform the troopers of the new orders, I was left with the officers. “The Earl says he will look after the squadron, William, but I know they will be in good hands. You are a fine officer.”
Percy had a look of pain upon his face. “Sir, this sounds like you are saying goodbye! What does the general have planned for you?”
“It is not goodbye but Sharp and I have to get close to Marshal Soult’s army and ascertain numbers. You have seen the terrain. It may be that Sharp and I cannot carry out our orders and may be trapped behind the lines but I will return to England. It may take time but I will get back. We have lost many fine troopers in this retreat but the regiment can be proud of the way this squadron has carried out its duties. When others were losing their heads the 11th did its duty. I want those troopers to return to England with their most excellent officers. We will be coming back and Colonel Fenton will need both.”
Captain Stafford said, “We will not let you down, sir.”
Lieutenant Stanhope found us, “Sir, the Earl’s compliments and the cavalry is leaving now.”
“Thank you Stanhope, the squadron will be along directly.” I held out my hand, “Look after them William.”
“I will sir! And we will help Sergeant Seymour find that family. We all want them to survive. They are a symbol of this retreat.”
Percy shook my hand firmly, “You watch out for yourself sir, I don’t want to have to command the troop alone.”
“You won’t Percy. Cornet Williams here is now ready to become a First Lieutenant.”
The cornet looked at me seriously as he shook my hand, “Thank you sir. I have learned much riding with you.”
“Good, and that bodes well, for the ones who were not willing to learn now lie dead in Portugal.”
Alan came back leading the horses, “The Cornet was right sir, this one would not have reached the coast.”
“Just so long as they can reach the French camp, that is all that we need. We can steal others. Well sergeant, one last time for King and Country eh?”
He shook his head, “We do it for the rest of the army, sir. King and Country are too far away here. It is the troop and the regiment who are more important. It is the likes of the rifles and the Light Brigade who make us do what we do.”
We led our new horses towards the main square. Ahead of us I noticed that the squadron had halted. I could hear a commotion at the front to the column. “Here, Sergeant, hold the reins while I see what the problem is.”
As I got closer I heard a maniac
al voice shouting, “I am Sir John Moore. None of you buggers is getting past me!”
The soldier had a cocked musket and a fixed bayonet. I saw two of his comrades nearby. Poor Cornet Williams had no idea what to do. “What’s the problem with him, Private?”
The soldier seemed to see me and he levelled his gun at me, “I told you! I am Sir John Moore and I command this army!”
One of the privates said, “Sir he ate raw salt fish and washed it down with rum. He has gone mad, sir.”
“What is his name?”
“Private John McCain, sir.”
I nodded and smiled, “Sir John, I have some urgent despatches for you.” He looked puzzled. I held out my right hand as I stepped forward. I saw the bayonet dip as his attention wavered. I grabbed his musket, pulled him forward and punched him as hard as I could on the chin. He fell like a sack of potatoes.
“Take his gun from him and keep it from him until he is sober.”
“Aren’t you going to charge him, sir? Threatening an officer?”
“If we charged everyone who went mad we would have no army to command. Carry on Cornet.”
As I turned to walk away I heard the Private say. “Is he a proper officer?”
Troop Sergeant Grant said, “He is the best officer you have ever met, sonny boy. Now get this idiot off the road before I run him down and shoot him myself.”
It was just one of the many idiotic things men did on that catastrophic march to Corunna.
We slipped away before dawn. This would be the hardest mission we had ever attempted. These were the narrowest roads I had seen so far and it would be hard to get by unseen. I had a plan. When we saw the French fires, in the distance, we dismounted and took to the woods and defiles which lined the road. We were walking on virgin snow. Despite the cold we took off our helmets and put them in our saddlebags. They marked us as British. Dismounting we led our horses through the thin woods which bordered the road.
The French had found a flatter part of the land in which to camp. I saw the glow of a pair of pipes ahead. We tied the two horses to a tree and, drawing our swords moved towards the two sentries who were huddled together. We were within ten yards before they turned.
“Who goes there?”
“Thank God we have found our camp. I feared it was the English.”
“Stop there. Who are you?” I heard the musket being cocked.
I am Major Lejeune and I bring despatches from marshal Berthier for Marshal Soult.”
One of the muskets was lowered but the other man was still suspicious. “Where are your horses?”
“They went lame back there and we had to slit their throats. There were English cavalry nearby.” I stepped closer and pointed behind me. Human nature dictates that eyes are drawn to pointing fingers. As they both looked behind us we lunged forward with our swords. I struck the throat of one of them and he slid silently to the snow covered ground. Sharp’s sabre ripped upwards into the soft middle of the second sentry. The soldier fell with a groan.
“Quick get their capes and shakos.” Once they were donned we looked more like the French. “Grab his head.” I held the feet of the man Sharp had killed. We walked over to the edge of a slope and hurled the body down. We repeated with the other. It was unlikely their bodies would ever be discovered. We recovered our horses and headed through the woods towards the camp. It was just coming to life.
We dismounted at the edge of the camp and walked in. I saw a huddle of men around a fire. I handed the reins of my horse to Sharp and wandered over. “Damned cold!” I said to no one in particular.
“What an awful country!” The officer who spoke had pieces of cloth wrapped around his shoes and he had a blanket with a hole cut in it for his head draped over his shoulders as an improvised cape. This was an army in as bad a shape as we were. He pointed to Sharp who stood with the horses. “I would keep an eye on those horses. Men have killed for scrawnier looking beasts.”
I tapped my sword. “They would have to go through me first.”
“That is a fine looking blade. May I see it?”
“Of course.” I handed it over and the officer examined it.
“A fine weapon, Austrian?”
“Yes. I captured it when we captured the Dutch fleet over ten years ago.”
“You were amongst the cavalry at the Texel?”
“I was a Chasseur then!”
He took a leather skin from under his blanket. “Then have a drink with me, Captain Jacques Breville, for my father was with the cavalry in those early days of glory.”
I swallowed some of the rough brandy. “Thank you. What was his name?”
“Like me he was Jacques but he was just a sergeant.”
“I do not remember the name. Where is he now?”
“He died in Egypt.”
“Many good men fell in Egypt.” I handed him back his skin. “And now I must leave you. I have despatches for the Marshal. Where is his headquarters?”
He pointed back up the road. “The farmhouse with the damaged roof; it is the warmest place he could find. It was good to have met you. What is your name? I should like to know in case I meet any of my father’s old comrades.”
“Pierre Boucher, I was a brigadier in those days. I have done well in this war.”
“You have done well. Perhaps I will see you again when we have driven the roast beefs into the sea.”
“Perhaps.”
He waved farewell and began to talk to his comrades. When I rejoined Sharp we were not given a second glance. We had been seen talking to one of their own and we were dressed in French capes and shakos. We made our way through the camp and I saw that life was just as difficult for the French as it was for us. As we were passing the farmhouse I heard a commotion and officers began to hurry from the building. Sharp began to examine his horse. It was showing signs of being lame. A major of artillery barged his way between us. “Out of the way. We are going to end the British retreat once and for all.”
“I am sorry major. We have an injured horse.”
“Then I would end its misery now and let the men eat some meat!” He laughed as he left.
I could see that the marshal must have held a briefing of some description. Officers were running hither and thither. We made our way to the far end of the camp so that we could see the forces at Soult’s disposal. We saw just one battery of guns but there were three regiments of cavalry, one Hussar, one Dragoon and one Chasseur. It was not a large force. I made a decision. “Sharp, take my horse and get back to the general. Tell him he is about to be attacked by one battery, three regiments of cavalry and I estimate, ten battalions of infantry.”
He shook his head, “You go sir! I’ll make my own way back.”
“Sergeant Sharp your French is adequate only. I can talk my way out of trouble and besides this is an order. Stay with the general and I will get back to you when I can.” He opened his mouth to speak. “Alan, this is the best way and I will return. I was not born to die in a frozen Galicia.”
He reluctantly mounted and joined the other soldiers heading towards the British lines. I had no doubt that he would be able to slip away and reach our lines before the French began their attack.
I led the lame horse through the French camp. The horse had become worse as we had progressed through the camp. I suspected that we had exacerbated and aggravated her lameness. She would have to be put down. I stroked her mane. “There, old girl; I am afraid this is as far as you go.”
I did not notice the two men approaching me. One had an apron on. He said, “Sir, are you going to destroy that horse?”
I saw that is was a cook. “I am afraid I am; why?”
“Well sir we could come to a deal. If you let us do it I can provide the men with hot food. It would feed the men but I would not want you out of pocket. How about I give you a good hot meal and a bottle of wine?”
I was not worried about the payment but if I gave in too easily he would be suspicious. “I am sure I could get more from the
men if I offered her for sale.”
He nodded, “I can give you a silver piece.”
“Five.”
“Two.”
“Three and a bottle of brandy.”
He grinned, “You drive a hard bargain!” He spat on his hand. “A deal.”
After we had shaken I said, “I will take off the saddle first.”
“Isn’t that included?”
I laughed, “I intend to ride into battle, sergeant and a saddle helps.”
I let him lead the poor beast off. I heard the sound of the shot and felt sadness. I hated any animal being destroyed. I took the saddle into the canteen tent and put it in the corner. By the time I had sat down the cook had brought my bottle of brandy and my bowl of stew. There was also some bread. I had missed bread. The French army always had edible bread while the British army gave you hard tack. I wolfed down the food. The brandy I would save. It might come in handy.
The cook waved me over. “A little more? There is just a ladleful left. I am going to cook up your horse for the meal this evening when we have slaughtered the roast beefs.”
“A good soldier never turns down food; especially on this march.”
He put the food in my bowl and as I ate it, standing up he said, “Well you had better make the most of it. The word is that there are more regiments arriving tomorrow and you can bet they have no rations with them either.”
“They never do.” I handed him the empty bowl. “Thank you, my friend.”
As I stepped out with the saddle over my shoulder I just blended in with the milling mass of soldiers. My next task was to get a horse. I watched as the three regiments rode out followed by the artillery battery. The infantry had already marched out and the camp began to empty a little. I struck out for the smell of horse manure. If there were any horses which could be stolen then they would be where the cavalry had camped. It looked ominously empty. I saw that they had a blacksmith set up. I heard the farrier as he hammered a shoe.
“You have a warm job my friend.”
He laughed, “Only the cook is warmer. Come and get a warm, my friend.” He saw my saddle. “I take it we eat meat tonight?”
“Yes. She was lame.”