by Griff Hosker
I had approached him when alone at the stern of the ship and he could tell from my voice and manner that discretion was required. “If I can answer, sir, then I will.”
“I need a package delivering to Cadiz. How would I do that?”
He frowned and scrutinised my features, “Cadiz is in Spain and we are at war with them.”
“I give you my word sir, as an officer and a gentleman that I am doing this on behalf of His Majesty’s Government.”
I did not need to imbue my voice with sincerity; it was there already for I was speaking the truth. He nodded, “I believe you. Bring me the package. When the water boats arrive I will see your package is delivered. It will cost a silver piece. Not for me, you understand, but the man I use does not do such things out of the generosity of his heart.”
I smiled, “I understand. I will get both of them.” I slipped down to my cabin and retrieved the package and the coin. Gibraltar was rapidly approaching.
The captain glanced at the letter and started. “A Marshal of France?” He hissed.
I smiled and nodded, “As I said this is not of my doing; I am merely the messenger.”
He sighed, “I believed your story before and this confirms it. You are a deep one for one so young.”
We did not enter the harbour but waited with other ships out in the straits. The water lighters and other bum boats hurried out to us. The Bosun stood at the side warding off the unwanted vessels and securing those who were permitted to approach. A couple of the captains boarded and I saw one, who looked to be Spanish in appearance, descend to Captain Douglas’ cabin. When they emerged they both looked in my direction and gave me a subtle nod. My first missive was on its way to the Emperor.
We left in a convoy with two frigates and a brig for escort. This was before the total destruction of the French Fleet and there were still patrolling hostile vessels in the Mediterranean. We now increased our training. The bad weather was behind us and we would only have a week or so at sea. We used the time well. The mean were tanned and fit. The voyage had done them good and they were eager for action. I was not sure what action that would be but I was confident that they would meet whatever challenges were put in their way.
As we skirted Malta and its British garrison I thought back to that fateful day when I had been sent to spy on the garrison and met the old Knight of St.John, the man who turned out to be a relative. I hoped I would see him when we reached Sicily for he was old. Cesar, in his letters, told me that my sudden appearance had given the old man a new lease of life but I also knew that no one could fight old age forever.
Lieutenant Jackson joined me as I watched the ship bound for Malta head towards the British bastion. The island slipped further south as we spoke. “What do you think our role will be sir?”
“Scouting I think. We are too few for anything else. Perhaps we might have to discourage the Chasseurs.”
I hear they are fine horsemen.”
“They are and they are handier with their swords than our chaps. That is why I have had them practising with their carbines. They are better than the French musketoon and give us a slight advantage.”
“You favour powder weapons then sir?”
I nodded vigorously. “I do indeed. That is why I have two on my saddle and two in my holster, as does Sergeant Sharp. We have learned that it gives you an edge in close combat.”
“I shall have to get more then.”
“With luck they will come through combat. Remember we cannot afford to leave anything on the field. It matters not if it is British, French or Italian equipment, we take it and use it.”
He shook his head and smiled, “You are the complete opposite of Captain DeVere.”
“I will take that as a compliment.”
“And it was meant that way. He cared not where anything came from. He just expected others to service his needs.”
“Ah well it may be in the way we were brought up. I was brought up to value everything I was given for I was given little. I was taught to look after what I had and it has served me well.”
He nodded and continued looking out to sea. “As with your horse. Captain DeVere mocked you for caring for Badger yourself.”
I laughed, “I know, he called me the stable boy.”
“Did that not offend you sir?”
“It might have done but that would have gained me little. It was his opinion and it was wrong. Besides stable boys are valuable themselves. Without them our horses would not survive the rigours we put them through.” I looked at him remembering Killer. “A horse will give its life for you if you have treated it well. What greater sacrifice can a beast make?”
The convoy docked at Messina. We were not far from Cesar’s estate and Sir John but I had to concentrate upon my duties. We were the first ship to unload. It made sense as we had the horses. Luckily it was the Mediterranean and we were able to rig up a ramp and walk them off. There was little tidal movement here. We did not have to use a sling. The horses hated it. While one in four men looked after the horses the rest of the troop unloaded the stores that we had brought. I wondered how we would transport them.
Suddenly I was hailed, “Captain Macgregor! What the hell are you doing here in your fancy get up?”
I turned and saw Captain Dinsdale. He carried the Alpini goods in his ship. I was a half owner in the ship. I strode over to him and clasped his arm. “Good to see you Matthew. We are to be stationed here.”
A frown crept across his face. “I thought there was danger. The number of French ships has increased and they are becoming bold.” He looked around at the men and horses. “Mind you, you cannot do much with these.”
“Don’t worry, we have other troops here. Are you out bound or in bound?”
“We sail tonight when we are loaded.”
“Good. When you return I may have a task or two for you.”
He rubbed his hands. “Intrigue again! Excellent.”
I laughed. In another life he would have been a pirate. “Tell me are there any wagons to be had?”
He pointed, “They are expensive but why not use your cousins? They have just unloaded my cargo and they will be heading back later on. Come on I’ll introduce you to the wagon master.”
The wagon master looked to be barely more than a boy. “This is Carlo.” He nodded seriously, “Carlo this is Signior Roberto, the master’s cousin.” Carlo didn’t react. “The man from Scotland, the soldier friend of Sir John.”
That made all the difference and he grinned from ear to ear and pumped my hand up and down as though drawing water from a well.
“I have heard much about you.”
I sighed. The stories of my life were always exaggerated, “I need to use the wagons to transport my men’s equipment.”
He nodded, “Of course. Shall my men load them or…”
“No, I will get my sergeants to do it. They know how it should be packed.”
James and the sergeants had watched as I had gabbled away in Italian. I forgot that there was much about me that they did not know. “Sergeant Grant, have these wagons loaded with our gear.” I put my arm around Carlo who swelled with pride, “This is Carlo.”
It was almost comical watching my sergeants trying to communicate with the Italians. They would work it out. “Sergeant Sharp, bring our horses. We need to find out where we are to be stationed.”
As he ran off Captain Dinsdale said, “I’ll leave you to it then.”
Before he left I said, “Is business good?”
“Excellent. You are becoming richer by the day.”
“Have you thought about another ship?”
He looked surprised. “Can you afford it?”
“As you said I am a rich man and my expenses are small. If you wish to buy another and have a suitable captain then I will supply half the finance as before.”
He gave me a shrewd look. “What do you know?”
“Let us just say that I think there will be a demand for good Italian wine for this Emp
eror is likely to make more enemies than friends.”
“I will look into it.”
Waving goodbye I shouted, “Lieutenant Jackson, take charge. I am going into the town to find out where out billet is to be found.”
Messina is a bustling old town but I knew my way around its medieval streets. I had an idea where the consulate was to be found. I assumed that the Consul would have been kept informed about Sir John and his troops. It was hard to hide four thousand redcoats and three cannon.
I saw the Union Flag fluttering outside the grand white porticoed building. The two red coated sentries were reassuring. We dismounted and they both stood to attention. “Sergeant Sharp stay with the horses.” Turning to the two marines I asked, “Who is the consul?”
“Sir Charles Frere.”
“Have you any idea where Sir John Stuart and the rest of the army might be?”
Although they both snapped a smart, “Sir, no sir!” I knew that they did.
I sighed. Inter service rivalries bored me. “Very well. I’ll do it the hard way.”
Entering the building was refreshing as the interior was several degrees cooler than the hot street. As soon as I entered an Italian servant rushed up to me. His English was impeccable, “Yes sir. How may I be of service?”
“I am looking for either Sir John Stuart or the consul.”
“I have no idea where Sir John is to be found but I will see if Sir Charles is free. If you would follow me.”
He led me to a large double door and he disappeared inside. A moment later he reappeared. “Sir Charles will see you now. May I get you some refreshment?”
“An iced Limoncello would be appreciated.” He raised his eyebrows that this Englishman would have such discerning taste. I entered the room, helmet in hand.
“Ah Captain er… dashed awkward this.” Sir Charles was old school diplomat. He was small and neat. His moustache was trimmed immaculately and there was not a hair out of place on his head. His desk was so tidy that it looked to have just been arranged.
“Matthews, sir, Captain Matthews of the 11th Light Dragoons. What is awkward?”
“Well Sir John was supposed to have arranged for your billet but when you did not arrive yesterday he took the expeditionary force for a forced march.”
“Ah. And have you any idea where our billet is?”
“Off the top of my head, no. The camp is just south of the town but it is too small for your horses. I have no idea what he intended.”
“Very well sir, then do I have your permission to make my own arrangements?”
“Well of course… if you think you can. I’ll let you have Julio to interpret.” He stood to summon the servant.
I waved my hand, “No need sir, I can speak Italian.”
That totally flummoxed him. He sat down, “By God sir, you don’t say. Remarkable.” He recovered his composure. “Well then Captain Matthews if you get the bill sent here I will arrange payment. Try to negotiate eh? Save His Majesty some money eh?”
I liked Sir Charles. I grinned, “Of course sir. I not only speak Italian I can barter like one too.”
The servant came in with my drink and Sir Charles told me as much as he knew about the current situation. It did not add much to my knowledge but I enjoyed the chat.
As we rode back to the port I told Sergeant Sharp what had ensued. “I don’t like that sir. It isn’t right.”
“No, I know but we will make the best of it.”
When I reached the port the wagons were loaded and the troop stood by their mounts. Sergeant Grant and Lieutenant Jackson were standing beside Carlo. “We have a problem chaps. It seems Sir John has gone off on a forced march and we have nowhere to stay.”
“Bugger!” Sergeant Grant had the ability to sum up a situation quickly.
“Quite.” I turned to Carlo. “Carlo, do you know of a field close by here with water and some grazing? We need a camp.”
“How close is close?”
“Within an hour’s ride.”
He beamed. “Then I will arrange for you to stay at the farm of Uncle Giuseppe. He lives not far down the road.”
I was not convinced, “Horses smell you know.”
He tapped his nose, “And that is why my uncle will let you stay there. Free fertiliser for his lemons and horses do not eat lemons do they?”
I laughed, “I suppose not.”
As Carlo went to instruct his drivers I turned to my two companions. “It seems we are staying at Uncle Giuseppe’s lemon farm. Get the men mounted. We will follow Carlo.”
I rode next to Lieutenant Jackson who was bursting with questions. “Sir, how do you come to speak Italian?”
“Oh there are many skills I have. Let us just say I enjoy learning.”
We headed towards the area where Uncle Giuseppe’s farm was to be found. We left the main road and headed up a narrow track. I worried that this might be too small and I began to work out how to explain that Carlo. We crested a rise and I saw the lemon trees. They were spread over a large area like a canopy. It was perfect. There was grass beneath and the lemon trees themselves would shade the horses. I just hoped that Uncle Giuseppe would be amenable.
The noise of our arrival attracted everyone from the estate. Before I was introduced I recognised Uncle Giuseppe. He was a larger and rounder version of Carlo. I saw Carlo descend and kiss the hand of his uncle. I nudged Badger forward and we reached the pair when their conversation had finished.
Uncle Giuseppe tried to speak in English, ”Happy we are to meet you.”
Carlo smiled and said, in Italian, “Do not worry Uncle, this is a relative of Don Cesar; he speaks our language.”
The smile that lit up Giuseppe’s face was as wide as the Bay of Naples. “Welcome Englishman. My nephew tells me you are here to fight the French pigs. I salute you.” He grabbed me and kissed me on both cheeks.
“Thank you, sir. Are you sure it will not be too much trouble to put us up?”
“For our allies it is worth the sacrifice,” a sly look crept across his face, “of course there will be costs…”
“The British Consul in Messina will pay any expenses you might care to lodge.”
His face darkened, “Pieces of paper? Pah!”
I almost panicked. Had I said the wrong thing? Then I remembered the bag of gold Louis given to me by Bessières. I brought out one golden coin. “Would this suffice?”
His face changed immediately. “I knew that you were a gentleman the first time I laid eyes upon you. Of course this will suffice.”
“Where shall we put the tents?”
He wandered off, caressing the gold and he shouted over his shoulder, “Wherever you like.”
I smiled at Carlo, “Thank you Carlo. I shall tell my cousin of your help.” I turned in the saddle, “Sergeant Grant; find somewhere for the tents. Tie the horses to the lemon trees when they are watered there is shade enough.”
And so we began our war in sun baked Sicily.
Chapter 8
I sent Sergeant Sharp to inform Sir Charles as to our whereabouts. I would dearly have loved to contact Sir John Stuart but he had taken himself off. I hope this was not a sign of things to come. I did not wish to waste the time we had spent aboard ship training and so I led the troop on a patrol. I had an ulterior motive; I intended to visit my family. It would be a good way for the troop to get to know the conditions under which we would be operating. Within four miles of the camp they were beginning to suffer. The heat and the humidity made them start to reach for water skins. I had discussed this with Sergeant Grant and, as the first man pulled the stopper he roared, “That man! Wait until you are given permission to drink!” They soon realised that you loaded with water before you began to patrol.
Carlo had obviously told Cesar and his family of my arrival on the island for we were spotted some way from the estate and Cesar, his wife and his children were waiting for us. The boys had grown and I could see the awe on their faces as the smartly turned out troopers halted in i
mmaculately neat lines.
I dismounted and embraced my cousin and his wife. “It is good to see you Roberto. When Carlo told us I was delighted. Sir John will be pleased to see you too.”
“I cannot stay long. I am on duty.”
“Of course but your men will take some food with us?” Hospitality was important to the Sicilians.
“Of course,” I lowered my voice, “but do water the wine. These are Englishmen and they drink beer.”
Cesar looked shocked and shook his head. “I am sorry about that.”
“Lieutenant Jackson, have the men dismount and go with Don Cesar’s man. The men will be fed.” I saw the look of anticipation on the boys’ faces. “Would you two boys like to look after Badger?” They nodded their pleasure and led him off. I caught Sergeant Sharp’s eye and pointed to the boys. He smiled, he would watch over them.
The house was wonderfully cool and I left my helmet in the hall. I knew where we were going. Cesar led me to the room at the rear which looked out on the garden. It was Sir John’s favourite spot.
“I will see to your men.” He smiled, “It is good to see you again cousin.” He left me alone with the old knight.
Ever the gentleman he tried to rise as I entered. I hurried to his side. “Sit down Sir John. I am still young and fit.”
He smiled, “As I was once. Let me look at you.” I stood back and he nodded his approval. “You look fine in that uniform and you have filled out. They have made you a captain?”
“Yes sir. I command a squadron although I have only brought a troop here.”
“And we are pleased that you are here for we have heard rumours of French armies preparing to attack us.” He shook his head, “The Neapolitans are brave but then so were the Maltese and they are no match for the French. It is good that you have come.” He gestured me forward. “I fear I have not long to live. I can feel the cold hand of death creeping ever close and I think it is fate which has brought you here.”
“Nonsense you will outlive us all.”
“And you know that is not true. I am a warrior and soon I will join my companions. I have lived long enough. But I am glad to see you again. It is such a long time since you left. You are often in my thoughts.” He gave a cough which seemed to cause him pain. I poured him a glass of wine. He drank it down and smiled. “You should know that, in my will I have left all to you and Cesar equally.”