He turned suddenly as the pop-popping sound of musket fire from higher up the slope told that the marine detachment was in action.
“Mr Goodwin, Advance at once with your marines to support Mr St James and send a man back to tell me what you find. We shall follow as fast as we can.”
They were moving in an extended column, following the path up a valley which was covered in small, wind distorted trees and scrub, up to a pass through the mountains. Merriman estimated that they must have climbed to over two thousand feet already and his new arrangements were working well. The cannon was moving more quickly with more men on the ropes even without the marines. His lungs were heaving as he gasped for breath and Mr Graham was in no better condition. Determined not to show weakness before his men he struggled on gamely though he was amused to see his cox’n Owen at his back, ready to help him if necessary. So it was with relief that he saw the red coated figure of a marine hurrying downhill towards him and he had a good reason to halt the column and take a breather.
The sweating marine approached. “Mr St James’s compliments Sir an’ ‘e encountered some French. We lost two men and the French ‘ave retreated down the hill on the other side. We can see the main party from the top Sir”.
“Thank you. Well Gentlemen, we shall soon see what we have to contend with. Mr Andrews, you and I will move up first following the marine. Mr Shrigley and Mr Dorrington, you follow on with the gun. Mr Grahame, do you wish to join me?”
Another few hundred feet up, the path levelled off and he found the marines waiting. Captain St James was waiting to report.
‘We were surprised by a small number of French Sir. They opened fire from ambush and killed two of my men and wounded two others. We returned fire and killed one of them and I think wounded another before they ran to join their main party which has disappeared into that valley ahead, leading to the coast.”
“From where the ambush was, could the French see the cannon we are bringing up?”
“Unlikely Sir, I think it was too far back. You will see that it is only just emerging from that gully and those few trees would have screened it as well. Before that it would be hidden by the slope of the ground.”
“Sir, if you will follow me, I’ve found a good vantage point from which we can see the enemy. I’ve put guard pickets out to protect our flanks but It seems that there are no more French up here.”
A hundred yards further on some of the marines were behind some scattered boulders from the cover of which they could keep an eye open for enemy activity. Merriman peered round the side of a big boulder. From his position most of the wide expanse of Bantry bay lay before him and he immediately spotted the French far below hurrying through the trees in a valley and obviously making for the beach of Bantry Bay. “Well, they know we are here so there is no need to conceal ourselves Gentlemen. And there is something else, or perhaps I should say nothing else.”
“What do you mean by that cryptic remark?” asked Mr Grahame.
“If I may,” for answer Merriman opened his small telescope and proceeded to study Bantry bay, or at least as much of it as he could see.
“No ships Sir. Either I am wrong in suggesting that this is where the French fleet would attempt their landing or else they have not yet arrived.”
Merriman was not to know that he had been right all along, but that the French fleet had already arrived and gone. Having anchored in the bay while the weather was still relatively fine, the fleet waited for their missing ships including the flagship to arrive and not a man had been landed. Had they done so the French plan could have succeeded as their force was one and a half times that of the total of British troops in Ireland at the time. General Grouchy’s indecision and the gale saved England that day. As the time passed, the wind increased by the hour and became the violent gale with squalls of sleet and snow which had overtaken Merriman and his ship in Kenmare River.
Fifteen of the thirty-five French ships had anchored close inshore and the rest scattered about the bay. The wind was blowing directly offshore and the twenty ships in the bay were unable to maintain their position and were quickly blown out to sea. The remaining ships closer inshore had some six and a half thousand men aboard and belatedly Grouchy determined to land them.
Admiral Bouvet refused to obey, saying that a landing from boats was impossible in the conditions and that more men would drown than would reach the shore. In vain Grouchy argued, but Bouvet was adamant that he would not risk the lives of their men in such an impossible enterprise.
The ships were dragging their anchors and finally Bouvet ordered that they cut their cables and stand out to sea. They never assembled together as a fleet again.
By the time Merriman and his men arrived overlooking the bay not a single French ship was to be seen and the only sign that the French fleet had been there were the topmasts of the Surveillante showing above the water close to Whiddy Island. The ship being too damaged to sail back to France, had been scuttled.
Grahame took a look through Merriman’s telescope. “Well Captain, whatever the main force is or is not doing, our duty is clear. We must attack this force and take them prisoner. Maybe Moreau is among them though I can’t see him. Please tell your men that he must not be killed, he could give us much valuable information.”
“Very good Sir. Mr St James, this is now a land engagement which is your sphere of expertise. You heard what Mr Grahame said about Moreau, what do you suggest?”
“If I may Sir I would suggest that with the daylight going we cannot go further. The men and horses are exhausted and must rest and have some food. We could bivouac here and make a fresh start at daylight. I shouldn’t think the French can go further either Sir”.
“Yes, you are right, that is what we will do Mr St. James. But have your men stand sentry so that we are not surprised”.
A heavy frost had fallen overnight and when the officers woke the men in the dark many of them had ice on their clothing and were shivering violently. Fires had been lit and soon they were all having hot drinks and a chew of ship’s biscuit. Merryman waited until it was possible to see and then started the men and the cannon moving again. Eventually having climbed another mountain pass they descended into a valley and still following the tracks of the French, they came to a small almost derelict village with only a few bedraggled and half-starved inhabitants.
Merryman halted the column and called the officers to him. “ We can’t go on like this Gentlemen, The French are probably travelling faster than we can with the cannon and shot. I suggest we send a scouting party ahead, no red coats, to see if they can find them. Send Jackson with them, he was a poacher and should be able to find them. We’ll take a break here”.
The men were back very quickly and Jackson doubled up to Merryman. “Found ‘em Sir. Over the next rise you can see the sea again and they are heading for it, they’re struggling’ Sir, some can hardly walk and are bein’ ’elped by others Sir”.
“Good man. Right Gentlemen, everybody up and we must advance as fast as possible. Mr St James, your marines in advance”.
“Sir, Sir,” a call from an obviously agitated Lieutenant Andrews, “there are more French coming. There Sir, coming round that bump of land sticking out below us to the right.”
He pointed to where Moreau’s small force was moving lower down the hill to join the main party of French, obviously unaware of the English above them.
Moreau had arrived in view of his main party at about the same time as Merriman had his first sight of the French, but their relative positions hid them from one another.
Merriman pulled his small telescope from his pocket and tried to control his breathing. He was able, after a few moments, to keep the lens focussed on the men below and as he did so he drew in his breath sharply Lieutenant Andrews, the marine officer and Mr Grahame were behind Merriman eagerly waiting to hear the news.
He beckoned to Mr Grahame and as the man approached he handed him the telescope.
“I believe we have
sighted our quarry Sir.”
Grahame took the glass and moved himself into a position from which he could see. A grunt signified that he too had identified at least one of the men below, a man dressed in black, with a scarred face and with a long sword suspended from a plain leather baldric.
“You’re right James. Moreau himself, it can be no other. We must make certain of him this time,” and he turned back to peer through the telescope again, watching the larger French party welcoming the new arrivals.
The marine officer had a look, thought for a moment and then said “Well Sir, they know we aren’t far behind them and there is no possible way that we can advance without them seeing us Sir, They know we are here and the sight of red coats will keep them worried, not knowing what we are going to do. We’ll keep our main force out of sight for the time being. When everyone is rested and fed we will determine our actions, with your approval of course Sir”.
“Very good Mr St James, Have your men keep watch on the French and keep us posted as to their actions, but let the French see them“.
“Yes Sir, when we are ready may I suggest that the marines advance in the centre with your people spread on either side.” “The men with muskets together on the right flank and the others to the left. The marines will fire volleys at intervals when near enough and if your musketeers could fire a volley when my men are reloading that would enable us to keep the enemy well occupied. We are outnumbered Sir, but as always it will be sword and bayonet at the last.”
“Not so hasty my friend, I’m sure that the men dragging that confounded cannon up here would be mightily disappointed if they didn’t see it used.”
“You’re right Sir, I had almost forgotten. That cannon could give us the advantage.”
“It must, so we’ll wait here until the men have brought it to the top.
Chapter 12: Moreau slips away
“And I tell you we can find a way out of this situation,” shouted Moreau, “if we keep our wits and think clearly, instead of wringing our hands and bemoaning our misfortune.”
“What more can we do Monsieur,” retorted Major Marmont. “Only half of my men are properly armed and equipped, the others were lucky to get ashore with their lives. We have no cannon and only a limited amount of powder and shot for the muskets and now the English have followed us even here.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing an officer of France proposing to surrender without a shot fired.”
“I am no coward Monsieur if that is what you are insinuating, I’m a realist. We marched here hoping to find our ships here, but what do we find? Nothing except one ship sunk and no sign of the fleet. Our own ships have been destroyed or taken by the English, our men are exhausted and by now the alarm must have been raised.”
“Truly I think you may be right,” answered Moreau, “it seems hopeless, but maybe we-----------.” He broke of as a sergeant shouted the alarm, pointing to the hills above. The red coats of the marines could be seen advancing down the hill with English seamen in two groups with their officers in front of them.
“Merde! The damned English are advancing already. I was hoping we would have more time.” Moreau looked swiftly about. The small farm nearby was the only place within reach which might be defended.
The men raced over the intervening ground and the trained soldiers quickly took up positions behind the low wall surrounding the farmyard, watching the English as they slowly advanced and then stopped beyond musket range. The marines formed up in two ranks with the two groups of seamen extending the ranks on either side. Moreau could see their officers in a separate group in front, obviously discussing their next move.
“What do you make of it Mr St James?” asked Merriman.
“We are too weak to attempt a frontal assault Sir, there must be nearly four hundred of them behind the cover provided by those walls, but the cannon ----.”
“Yes, the cannon, but we’ll keep the cannon a secret for the moment. Mr Andrews, what do you think?”
“Mr St James is right I think Sir, but they are perhaps not such a strong force as first appeared.”
“How so David?”
“Well Sir, when they ran to the farm I could see that less than half of them were carrying muskets and only a few men were carrying more than a small knapsack. Of course, the second lot seemed to be properly equipped.”
“Hmmm! And what do you deduce from that?”
“The men with the muskets and knapsacks are the ones who have just arrived and probably some of the men landed early this morning from the last transport ship, and the rest are the survivors from the wrecked ships who would have been able to save only their own lives Sir.”
Merriman studied the French position through his pocket telescope. The wall between three small buildings enclosed a space only about forty yards by thirty, but was nowhere higher than four feet or so. The soldiers lined up behind it looked to be well disciplined and in full uniform with their bayonets fixed and a purposeful air about them. By comparison the bulk of the men were wearing no more than shirts and trousers and were a bedraggled lot.
“I believe you’re right David, they aren’t as strong as their numbers indicate.”
“Then we have them Sir. They can’t get away from us.”
“Maybe not Mr Andrews, but remember, ‘The man that once did sell the lion’s skin while the beast lived, was killed in the hunting of him.”
“That sounds like a quotation Sir.”
“It is, from Henry the Fifth, Shakespeare.”
Even as Merriman watched, he saw two scrawny cows being dragged out of one of the low roofed buildings and their pitiful bellowings came clearly to his ears as their throats were cut. The smoke from cooking fires drifted towards the English.
“It appears Gentlemen, that we have a problem. I agree that any frontal attack would be very costly in lives as we are outnumbered. Any French soldier who falls can have his weapons taken by another and be replaced whereas our numbers are limited. They have fresh meat and the stream passing in front of the farm gives them water.”
It was true. A small stream, crossed by a rough bridge leading to what was evidently a gateway, flowed just in front of the wall.
Ideas and plans passed through his mind one after another to be as quickly discarded as impractical or hopeless. Merriman, as usual when faced with a problem, paced up and down tugging at his ear, his mind in a ferment and conscious that every man’s eye was on him as the officers waited for him to come up with a plan.
A plan! He almost stamped in frustration. So much for the infallible Captain Merriman, he had no plan. This was where his reputation would be lost ------- unless---- as another idea crossed his mind, he stopped pacing and looked up to where they had crossed the hills, his eye searching for obstacles. It might work ----- if it could be done then --------”
His thoughts were interrupted by marine Lieutenant Goodwin. “Sir, a horseman is coming this way.”
Riding round the French position, well out of musket shot, a man on a mud splattered black horse was urging his mount towards them waving madly the while. Unerringly picking out the group of officers, he pulled his blowing horse to a halt and slid down from the saddle and addressed Merriman, the obvious leader in his captain’s uniform.
“White Sir, Richard White, I’m very glad to see you and your force, we had thought to be alone to face the French.”
Merriman quickly assessed him, obviously the man was a gentleman and English.
“Captain Merriman Sir, My officers ------.” After the civilities were done Merriman asked, “May we know the reason for your haste?”
“The French fleet Captain. They were here yesterday and anchored but nobody came ashore. Then the storm came and by this morning they had all gone except for a frigate and another ship that was sinking. I think they blew the bottom out of it and then the last ship left. Over there Sir, you can just see the top of her masts sticking out of the water. We have been expecting them to come back now that the storm has blow
n itself out. I have the militia assembled and when I saw the soldiers come over the hills I thought they were back.”
The words tumbled out in a torrent, but when the man had to pause to draw breath Merriman quickly interrupted. “Militia Mr White? Did I hear you say militia? Where are they and how many?”
“Yes Sir, local militia, about four hundred of them, willing enough but not professional soldiers I’m afraid. I called them together at the head of the bay when the French ships first appeared. We wanted to make the French think we were the vanguard of a larger force and were pleased with ourselves when we saw they had gone, but I don’t suppose we really succeeded in frightening them off,” he said despondently.
“And where are the militia now Sir?”
Marching this way, as I said, expecting to confront these Frenchmen on our own. I rode ahead to assess their strength and you can imagine what a relief it was to see the red coats of your men coming down the hill.”
“Indeed Sir, your arrival is most timely. My ship is in Kenmare River and we followed the survivors of four French ships we encountered yesterday. My party is as you see it, only about a hundred of us as I had to leave sufficient men behind to safeguard the ship. We are badly outnumbered but your militia will address that problem when they arrive.”
White’s face fell. “So few Sir! I had hoped you were the van of a larger force. Well, as I mentioned, my men are willing but most of them have never heard a shot fired in anger. They have been trained well enough in marching and drill and handling their muskets but how they will stand against experienced troops I can’t tell.”
“They may not need to Sir,” said Merriman slowly as the plan, half formed in his mind before Mr White’s arrival, took shape. “Gentlemen, I have an idea. Bluff and deception may be our best allies today. This is what I intend to do. Please be good enough to wait here Mr White, while I go and speak with the French.”
Merriman and the French Invasion (The Merriman Chronicles Book 2) Page 11