British Light Dragoon (Napoleonic Horseman Book 3)

by Griff Hosker

  As if on cue we heard the drum beat of approaching soldiers. Colonel Mackenzie rode at the head of the red coated infantrymen and they looked a fine sight. I could see that the general was impressed. Major Hyde-Smith was worried about the brigadier’s reaction but the infantryman was just happy to have found some Hanoverian troops and someone who could speak English.

  The four of them retired to the major’s headquarters while the infantry were assigned a camp. The general and his entourage left after an hour and our two senior officers came out. Colonel Mackenzie said to his aide, “Officer’s call if you please.”

  When we were all assembled an aide unrolled a map. “It seems we have arrived none too soon. The French are massing across the border and the Hanoverians do not have enough men to watch all the crossing points. Nor are they organised enough yet to meet them in the field. Our job is to help plug the gaps and buy that time.“ He jabbed his pointer at a red spot on the map. “This is Dannenberg. The 11th Light Dragoons and the Horse Artillery will make a forced march and build a defensive position there. The Hanoverians are pulling their troops from there to fortify another part of the line. The 5th will also force-march and join you again tomorrow.”

  Lieutenant Jackson said, “Just like a game of leap frog.”

  Major Hyde-Smith silenced him with a glare but the brigadier laughed, “Yes it seems that way doesn’t it? We are replacing two batteries of artillery, four regiments of infantry and a full regiment of cavalry.”

  Major Hyde-Smith asked, “Questions?”

  I stood. “Sir, what is our purpose at Dannenberg?” He seemed to see me for the first time and his look was one of puzzlement. “What I mean sir is are we to stop the enemy there or is there a more strategic function to our role?”

  He seemed relieved by the question. “We are keeping the road open as long as we can. If the French break through then the Hanoverians intend to get as many of her soldiers out as possible. They will head to Rostock and Stralsund. We have to go to Stralsund but they have the option.”

  I nodded, “We are covering a retreat.”

  “Quite. Now the general is leaving that lieutenant with us and a dozen of his horsemen. They will wait for us in Dannenberg and facilitate the changeover. I will be leaving my headquarters staff here at Gustrow to keep an eye on the equipment and to begin to pack it up. Your men will have to billet in Dannenberg. Good luck.”

  And that was it. We went to our horses and left. We carried everything that we might need: blankets, greatcoats and ammunition. It reminded me of Italy when we had moved so fast that we had left our supplies far behind. Here it was more desperate. I knew how fast the French could move and I feared for the lumbering 5th.

  We did not ride at our normal pace but trotted at a healthy nine miles an hour. We stopped every hour for ten minutes but we still managed to reach the town in eleven hours. Many of the men had never ridden so far before and I knew that many would be weary and saddle sore.

  Lieutenant Von Doren was waiting with a happy grin on his face as we rode into the small town. The ten dragoons with him looked as though they knew their business and it added to our ability to find the enemy.

  “Welcome gentlemen. There is a small barracks here. It will accommodate you but not your infantry colleagues.”

  “We will sleep there tonight and allow the 5th to use it tomorrow.”

  The lieutenant looked surprised. “What is it you English say? The early bird catches the beetle.”

  “It’s worm and we need every soldier to be as comfortable as possible. We will switch and switch about so that every man has at least one night in two in comfort. Now Lieutenant Von Doren, any more news of the French?”

  “Not yet sir.”

  “Good. Captain Matthews and Sergeant Major Jones go with Captain Johnson and position the artillery at the end of town. While there is still light begin to build some defences. “

  All three of us snapped a, “Sir!”

  “7th Troop fall in and follow me.”

  When we reached the end of the town we found an old wooden bridge which crossed a stream. “This looks good to me Captain Johnson.”

  He rubbed his hands together. “It certainly does. I’ll have one gun on the bridge loaded with grapeshot and the other two on either side.”

  I pointed to the hedgerow which tumbled down to the river. “If we cut some of that we can bring it closer to the bridge and make life harder for them.”

  Quartermaster Sergeant Grant said, “Leave that with me.”

  “Corporal Seymour, see if you can find a couple of axes. Cut down the trees opposite the bridge. It will give us a better field of fire and we can use them as a barricade in front of the bridge.”

  Sergeant Major Jones said, “I’ll see if I can get some empty hessian sacks and filled them with river sand. It will give some protection to the gunners.”

  Suddenly I was alone with Trooper Sharp. “Come on Sharp. Let’s cut across the bridge and scout out the other side.”

  The ground was flat and filled with farms. The edges of the farms were marked with trees and hedgerows. I reckoned that we would have plenty of warning of an enemy approaching the bridge. We explored for three miles and found just a couple of sleepy hamlets. We returned to the bridge and I was pleased to see half a barrier in place. More importantly, the artillery was in place, ready to sweep away anyone who attempted to cross the bridge.

  “Tomorrow, Sergeant Major, we will make those banks a little more difficult too eh?”

  “Yes sir.”

  The watches arranged and the sentries set, we ate. The officers and the NCOs had to eat together, which was not a problem. Jackson was on duty which made Lieutenant Austen the junior officer. He watched all those around the table, even the NCOs with a little awe on his face. All of them were older than he was and many had already seen action. He was as silent as I had ever seen him.

  A thought struck me. “Sir, I know that there was a garrison here but, to my mind the crossing of the Elbe some five miles back is a much better place to hold up a pursuing army. Here they can cross the river further up and flank us.”

  “I know. The same thought struck me. We will see what the brigadier says when he comes tomorrow, or tonight. In the meantime we will deploy a troop on each flank to stop just such a flanking move.”

  Captain Johnson, who seemed the most affable fellow ever kept smiling and nodding. “I agree with you chaps and if you want me to I’ll send a gun down there now in preparation.”

  “No thank you, Captain Johnson. That is unnecessary. Your men seem quite skilled at limbering and unlimbering. It won’t take them long to do that.”

  “Oh no, sir. A piece of cake! Back at the barracks we have competitions to limber and unlimber. Losers get to shovel out the stables!”

  Lieutenant Von Doren was, like Lieutenant Austen, taking it all in. I was curious about his mastery of our language. “Your English is excellent Lieutenant. How so?”

  “My mother was English and I grew up speaking German and English.” How strange, I thought, that we had such similar experiences and yet our lives could not have been more different. He had grown up, he had told us, as a pampered son of a Hanoverian aristocrat. He had wanted for nothing and could have chosen both his regiment and his branch of the army. I had been illegitimate, ignored and lucky to be taken on as a trooper. Yet I felt an affinity with him. “It has proved fortunate for I get to enjoy the company of the soldiers of my mother’s people.”

  I turned to Percy, “There you are Percy, have a go at speaking another language. You might get your promotion that way.” He nodded, “The alternative is to wait until a Frenchmen takes off my head and you get a battlefield promotion.”

  He looked visibly shocked, “Oh sir. Don’t say that! I want promotion but not that way.”

  We all laughed and the sergeants shook their head. They all had to earn their promotions. They could not buy a commission.

  The infantry arrived at noon the next day and Colonel
Mackenzie wasted no time in deploying his men. We apprised him of the situation. “I agree with you two. This is nowhere near as good as the Elbe. Captain Johnson, leave one gun here with your best sergeant and then make a defensive position at the Elbe.” He gestured to a lieutenant. “Lieutenant Dunston, take a platoon and help the artillery defend the bridge back there.”

  Although he looked disappointed he shouted a, “Yes sir,” and led his men away.

  “Right Captain Matthews, you take the right flank and I’ll take the left. Ride until you find somewhere else they can cross. Sergeant Major Jones you remain here with the headquarters staff and be ready to leave as soon as the Brigadier gives you the order.”

  “You can rely on me sir.”

  As I led my troop west I realised that we had depleted our own numbers already with the men left at Gustrow and those at Stralsund. We were like thinly spread butter; in places the toast was a little too visible.

  We found a crossing less than a mile north of us. The sign was hard to read but it looked to be the Luneburger Road. “Seymour, take a couple of men and ride east for a mile or so; let me know what you see. The rest of you dismount. Take out your carbines and make sure that they are loaded and primed.” Thanks to the three months training they did so efficiently and well.

  When I heard the thunder of hooves I ordered them to stand to. We had a double line. The first rank were dismounted and using their mounts as a shooting platform, whilst the ones behind were mounted.

  Corporal Seymour reined his horse in. “Cavalry sir, hundreds of them.”

  “Whose?”

  “Couldn’t see any flags sir. They weren’t redcoats.”

  I smiled, “Which doesn’t help us as the only redcoats for hundreds of miles are the 5th.”

  “Sorry sir.”

  “Never mind. Rejoin the others.” I turned to Percy. “If this is the French Corps then you take half the men back to the Brigadier and tell him.”

  “And what about you sir?”

  “I will follow when we have knocked them about a bit.”

  As soon as I saw them I recognised the uniforms. “Don’t worry. They are Hanoverians.”

  I could see, as they crossed the bridge that they had been in action. Once again I had to resort to a limited vocabulary and hand gestures, but they seemed to understand and they trotted safely down the road towards the 5th. Although they had been beaten they still retained their order and I saw their sergeants making them straighten up as they marched past us. These soldiers would fight again. The question was, would the French give them time?

  As the numbers dwindled I began to worry. In my experience the French cavalry were always keen to chase down stragglers. “Lieutenant Austen, take charge of the dismounted men. Sergeant Grant bring the mounted men with me. Have your carbines ready. Bugler Jones, stay by me. You may to have to play a few tunes yet.”

  “Excellent sir. I do like playing my bugle.”

  Jones was irrepressible.

  When I saw men beginning to run towards us then I knew the French were close. “Sergeant, take half the men on the other side of the road and leave the road clear for the stragglers.”

  As soon as they were in position I shouted, “Now there will be French cavalry coming down this road soon. When I give the order fire your carbine and then drop it and take out a pistol. You will fire that and then listen for the bugle.”

  I saw two grenadiers half carrying a wounded comrade. The look on their faces told me that they would die rather than leave their comrade to the French. I saw that a handful of men were trying to organise some sort of defence to help these wounded to escape. They clustered around their flag. “At the trot forward. Keep your lines.”

  My original plan might still work but I could not leave these brave soldiers to be massacred and their flag to be captured. Now that I was close I saw that the cavalry were French Dragoons. The men around the flag had a square of sorts but with less than a hundred men within it they were shrinking and dying. It would collapse long before they reached the bridge.

  “Jones, when I give the command, sound recall.”

  He never questioned, he just said, “Yes sir.”

  We were eighty yards away and remained unseen, mainly because of the smoke from the grenadiers’ muskets. “Halt!” I looked down the line. “Fire!”

  The fifty carbines all barked as one and a wall of smoke filled the space. “Sound recall!” As the notes rang out I hoped that the Hanoverian call was similar to ours. They would, at least, know that they had friends behind. “Ready pistols!”

  The Dragoons had seen the new danger and they charged towards us, eager to get at horsemen they believed now had no guns. They came at us in a ragged mass with little speed. “Fire!” As the smoke enveloped us I shouted, “Draw sabres!”

  The pistol we used was the 1802 land pattern Pistol and the ball it fired was a hefty .65 of an inch. The Dragoons and their mounts were scythed down. We now had a chance. “Sound the charge!”

  As he put the bugle to his lips Jones said, “Now I do know that one!”

  We launched forward as a line. We had no speed but we were hitting dishevelled, demoralised and disorganised Dragoons. They had gone from the verge of victory to disaster in a heartbeat. I slashed down with my sword and struck a major in the neck. He fell to the ground. Badger was bigger than the Dragoon’s mounts and she barged past two of them. I stabbed one Dragoon as I went by and hit the other with my fist. I glanced ahead and saw another regiment of horsemen. This time they were Chasseurs and they were in line. I looked for Jones. “Sound retreat!”

  Jones must have been waiting for the command and the notes were almost instantaneous. As I turned Badger around I saw only one empty saddle. We had been lucky but one man had still died. The Hanoverians were now racing towards the bridge. When we caught up with their rear I shouted. “Halt and reload.” I could see the Chasseurs were half a mile away and the bridge about the same distance. We had enough time to load again. With my carbine ready I looked down the line. None of the men looked to have panicked and their confidence was apparent in the calm way they loaded.

  “These chaps will make a lot of noise. Just fire on command and then retreat towards the bridge. Lieutenant Austen will look after us. Fire! Sound recall.” As the rest turned I drew two of my pistols. Three of the Chasseurs had managed to evade the wall of lead and were hurtling at me. I fired both pistols and drew my sword. As one of the men fell dead and a second clutched his arm I wheeled Badger out of the path of the last man and sliced across his back as he passed me. He fell to the ground and I followed my men. As I neared the bridge I heard the cheers of both my men and the Hanoverians.

  As soon as I had crossed the small bridge I heard Percy shout, “Fire!” The French were discouraged from following. I saw them dragging their wounded out of range.

  The Hanoverian captain who had led the rearguard was wounded and had to be helped by his sergeant. He made his way over to me.

  His English was poor, but it was better than my German. “Thank you sir. I am in your debt.”

  I shook his hand and it came away bloody. I said, in German, “You and your men are too brave to leave.”

  He nodded and they began to trudge down to the bridge where the 5th resolutely stood.

  “Reload. We will give them one more volley if they try to cross. Sharp, go and inform the Brigadier that we have another Division coming this way and ask him what are his orders?”

  The men dressed their ranks under Quartermaster Grant’s keen eye and we waited to see what the enemy cavalry would do. Percy nudged his mount next to mine. “That took nerve, sir.”

  “What did?”

  “Facing down three of them.”

  “I had every advantage. I had two pistols primed, and a third if I needed it. They were riding fast and, therefore, easier to evade and they all rode much smaller horses. Had I missed with my pistols I would have charged them and they would have sailed by me and missed.”

 
He shook his head, “I thought you were a dead man for sure, sir. I was remembering what you said before and thought that I did not want promotion in that fashion.”

  “Sir! Look!”

  Grant’s voice drew me to the sight across the bridge. They were deploying artillery.

  “Thank you Quartermaster Sergeant. I think we will trot back down to the Brigadier eh.”

  We rode in good order the mile or so. Sharp was still there trying to get the Brigadier’s attention. I shook my head in irritation. “Percy take command. Face the enemy horse.”

  “Colonel Mackenzie there are at least two regiments of horse and a battery of guns heading from the other bridge. They will be here within the next fifteen minutes.”

  “You don’t say. This puts us in a pickle.” He pointed across the bridge and I could see the column of men marching forwards.

  “Sir, if we wheel this gun around it will buy some time and help us to withdraw in good order to the Elbe.”

  “I suppose you are right. You fellows cover our retreat but don’t get yourselves caught eh? You had better send a messenger to your major then. Wouldn’t want him with his backside in the wind eh?” he then turned to shout his orders to his redcoats who began to shoulder arms and march at double time down the road.

  “Corporal Seymour. Ride to the major and tell him we are withdrawing.”

  The cannon had been turned to face the road we had just withdrawn down. I could see the cavalry already coming down. “Well Captain Johnson, whenever you are ready.”

  The happy gunner shook his head. “This little popgun has been loaded with ball and grape. If we wait until they are fifty yards away it should be quite spectacular.”

  The other gun was already firing ball at the approaching column. I glanced down the road and saw the small ball carve a line through ten files of men. They just closed ranks and kept on coming. We would thin them out but that was all.

  “Captain, I will place my men in front of the cannon and disguise it. When they are a hundred yards from us we will fire and then move. They should get a shock!”