Dodds’s company skirmished forward and closed inwards towards Gonçalves at the same time. They had no camp followers in front of them and wanted to be more concentrated if the cavalry chose to take their valedictory volley personally.
It must have been a difficult decision for the enemy commanders. They knew that they had been fired upon from behind, but they hadn’t seen who was shooting and there had been only the one ragged, if substantial volley. They couldn’t know whether it was a volley from all their attackers or only a part volley from a much bigger unit.
Half an hour to reach the militarily correct decision and do something about it seemed far too long for Gonçalves. He couldn’t imagine any senior officer being happy about a dangerous outflanking movement being left unchallenged. Nevertheless, the mist was a little thinner when the long, triple line of infantry appeared, advancing slowly, seeking a target.
It was unusual for the French to advance in line, but they must have assumed that enemy cavalry couldn’t have climbed up behind them.
The thought of cavalry reminded Gonçalves of the potential threat on his right. Sure enough, a double line; a large squadron or even two; of Polish lancers loomed out of the mist, walking their horses slowly, also searching for the men who had stung them in the tail.
Both bodies were evidently expecting standing infantry. The foot soldiers were prepared to exchange volleys with another line of infantry and the lancers were looking to charge into any body of soldiers that had neglected to form square.
Both were puzzled that no one seemed to be in sight. The small, earth-coloured humps scattered about, looked like hummocks or rocks and were overlooked while they strained their eyes for standing units.
The Hornets couldn’t believe their luck. Yes, there were three-to-one odds against them, but they were all in long lines walking slowly towards them inside a hundred yards: absolutely point blank range for their modified flintlocks.
Richter waited for Dodds to lead off against the more dangerous lancers, but blew his own whistle promptly after Dodds’s first volley. Thereafter, there were ragged volleys of fifty or more shots, roughly every seven or eight seconds.
Almost a hundred foot soldiers and a hundred lancers were stretched on the ground before they had chance to react in any way at all. Included in that number were all the officers and sergeants that could be recognised in the misty conditions.
Both of the enemy units were now essentially leaderless, but perhaps the lancers were more naturally aggressive. Half their number down, their lances came down and they started instinctively toward the clouds of powder smoke marking the position of the previously unnoticed Hornets.
They had no more than fifty yards to cover from a standing start and the Hornets were very aware that those lances were a much greater immediate threat than five hundred foot soldiers who were still standing, wondering what to do.
Two hundred rifles and carbines were turned on the lancers from the moment they offered to charge. Ten seconds later, a dozen survivors fled for their lives and the Hornets commenced to serve out the same treatment to the unfortunate lines of infantry.
An unwounded officer; probably a sergeant from the volume of his voice; was bellowing orders and muskets were being raised and discharged hopefully in the direction of the Hornets, who were becoming less and less visible, hidden by their own smoke screen.
With the lancers driven off, all the fire was directed at the infantry. They were falling in such numbers that Richter and Dodds were starting to feel sickened at such slaughter. Even Gonçalves was not happy, but his Portuguese had seen their country wrecked and unspeakable atrocities committed on their countrymen by these invaders. They were going to keep shooting while any Frenchman was still standing against them.
Fortunately, after the first combined volley, no one stood. Even taking fire from a line of redcoats at thirty yards was not as frightful as this murderous onslaught. Those that were still able fled away into the mist and vanished from sight.
As soon as the firing died down, the Vespãos were busy rounding up all the riderless horses. Dodds’s men were closest and within minutes, most of his company was mounted and in unhurried pursuit, riding in an extended line, with Richter’s company on foot, following behind and securing any prisoners that Dodds had overtaken and disarmed.
There had been a great deal of shooting to the north of them while they had been keeping the French left flank occupied. This had grown in volume until it seemed that a full-scale battle was raging, with hundreds of bugles sounding to direct the opposing forces against each other.
Gonçalves was now riding with Dodds and E Company, all mounted and in three platoons. Richter and H Company were behind them, still on foot and advancing in line.
A wind had arisen to blow the mist into swirls of vapour, giving mixed visibility, but also squalls of rain that hid things nearly as efficiently as the mist.
Very soon, they were riding through the detritus of battle. Bodies of French soldiers and British light infantry were scattered among abandoned muskets and miscellaneous discarded kit. Fighting must have been fierce for a while, but had now moved farther north and seemed to be diminishing.
The plateau narrowed to a few hundred yards where a stream had burst from the rocks to tumble down the slope and join the Côa. A group of red-coated and bebraided senior officers were sitting their horses and being subjected to a furious tirade from one with a face almost the same colour as his tunic.
Gonçalves recognised General Erskine from yesterday’s council of war. He reined in his men and removed his bonnet politely.
Erskine’s wrath was immediately redirected towards him. “Very considerate of you to join us after all the hard work has been done, Major Whateveryournameis. You were ordered to my right flank to support my attack on the French left wing. All the support I have had is your absence.” He paused to sneer. “I expect to have to do all the fighting for the Spaniards, but they tell us that you people are no longer gutless now that you have British officers. Looks as though they are wrong.”
Dodds kneed his horse between them and looked coldly at Erskine. Before he joined the Royal Marines, his childhood had been spent in the slums by the wharves on London’s river. The Marines had taught him respect for senior officers, but he could recognise an incompetent bully, however he might be dressed. He tried to imitate how he had seen Welbeloved or Vere respond to such provocation.
“Lorst our way in the fog, ‘ave we then, General. We was awonderin’ what ‘ad ‘appened ter the light division when we was fightin’ ‘alf the bloody French army all on our own.
Yer must ‘ave come out a mile too far norf, right in the middle of a lot of nasty Frogs an’ it’s made yer forget yer manners. Don’t worry though. We’ve got rid of all the Frogs souf of ‘ere an’ we’ll even go and find out what’s ‘appened to yer army, if yer like.”
Erskine was incandescent with rage and affront He fumed and shrieked for Gonçalves to arrest Dodds and court martial him. Gonçalves politely raised his bonnet again and did his best to mimic Vere. “I should do so of course, Sir William, but I am sure you understand that I too have been provoked by your rather intemperate language.
As it seems as though the French are retiring northwards in some confusion, it does appear that your inadvertent error has done no harm to our cause. I shall bid you good day.”
While he spoke, clouds had moved in from the west and persistent, torrential rain brought all firing to a close. He turned the Hornets about and returned to help clear up his own small battlefield.
Two days later, when he had delivered all his prisoners, sorted out all the captured horses and submitted his report, he discovered that the light division had indeed lost its way and emerged in the middle of General Reynier’s corps of fifteen thousand men.
They were engaged in a nasty, brutal encounter, when it is thought that the mist cleared long enough for Reynier to see the build-up of Wellington’s forces waiting to join in the battle. From t
hat point, the French disengaged northwards at their best speed, helped by the heavy rain that made most firelocks unusable. Wellington took possession of the town of Sabugal.
Masséna’s forces were withdrawing into Spain in the direction of Ciudad Rodrigo. Wellington had supply problems of his own and was content to leave him unmolested, apart from whatever mischief Roffhack and two squadrons of Hornissen could dream up as they passed him.
Nearly a week later, the three of them were once more in the presence of Lord Wellington. He thanked them formally for their part in the final expulsion of the French from Portugal, now confirmed by Roffhack and his men. Apparently they had only paused at Ciudad Rodrigo to leave a strong garrison, while moving directly to Salamanca and its arsenal, to try and rebuild their Army of Portugal.
Nothing had been said in Gonçalves report about the incident with General Erskine and apparently the general had not mentioned it either. It had however, taken place in the presence of others. Others moreover, who had little liking or respect for the general.
Little happened in Wellington’s army of which he was unaware. He was commenting placidly on French casualties during the short engagement.
“You may be very happy to learn, gentlemen, that of all the French losses at Sabugal, your own intervention accounted for almost half of the dead, wounded and prisoners. When I gave these figures to General Erskine earlier today, he was most gratified and mightily impressed. He has asked me to tell you all, how much he appreciated your support at the time, even if he was unable quite to comprehend how you were so far removed from where he understood you to be.”
He looked directly at Dodds. “I am told that he valued particularly some straightforward information he was given by an English officer who was present. He looks forward to shaking the hand of that officer when he sees him again.”
“Most gratifying indeed, My Lord.” They had difficulty in controlling their faces as they fled from his presence. Even Richter had found out about Dodds’s outburst and was relieved that nothing unpleasant had resulted.
Dodds himself summed up their unrepentant thoughts in portuguese. “His Lordship said that Erskine should like to shake me by the hand. I do believe he has missed his way once again. Surely it is my throat he shall be seeking?”
They returned to their command in tearing good spirits and went to look for Roffhack, who was back with all his men after seeing the French safely back to Salamanca.
CHAPTER 7
The difference in time between serious overcrowding and a shortage of men at Santiago del Valle could be measured at exactly a week.
Towards the end of March, there had been more than a thousand souls needing to be accommodated in what was really only a small village, with dwellings scattered around the estancia of the Conde and Condesa de Alba.
Refugees and troops had taken over a nearby small town and three almost deserted villages to ease the pressure, then four companies of Hornets; five hundred men; had gone off to try and add to the problems of Marshal Bessières, now commanding Napoleon’s Armée du Nord.
The measured week later, Captain Addenbrooke had taken B Company west, leaving only Captain Davison and C Company to rattle around in accommodation that still held the original villagers, together with a large crèche of new mothers and mothers-to-be.
The despatch from Lord Wellington that had now arrived with the wagon train from Oporto was going to change the situation once more. MacKay had just finished reading it and thoughtfully placed it back on the table.
“Judging by the reports frae Günther Roffhack and Fernando Gonçalves, Lord Wellington is justified in the praise he heaped on our lads. I reckon that the promotions he hae recommended are probably what you should hae done yourself had you been there. Shall you confirm them?”
“Without any hesitation! He’s found the right people and they’ve already done him proud. However successful we are, we shall always have generals, admirals and politicians who shall want to disband the Hornets, given the slightest opportunity.
It shall not happen while Lord Wellington commands the army and knows that he helped to create us. He has discovered a personal attachment to the Hornets and we must be diligent in doing what he asks. Yew noted that he shall be pleased to have us back where he can use us as may be necessary? Very tactful! Not a word that could be interpreted as giving us a direct order.
We can only keep it that way by doing more than he asks and if possible, before he asks it. I shall need to write to Admiral Harrison and have him attempt to amend our orders. They are little changed since we came back to Spain after Sir John Moore’s retreat.
Our main purpose at that time, was to sustain, support and encourage the guerrilla bands. They no longer need our special talents whereas Lord Wellington does and it should be embarrassing if our enemies were to accuse us of ignoring the written orders that we were then given.”
“I should hae thought, Sir Joshua, that the Admiralty is getting a deal o’ favourable newspaper reporting frae our activities.”
“That indeed is true, Hamish, but not everyone at the Admiralty is overjoyed that we are now effectively with the army and thus out of their direct control.
If yew shall cast yor mind back to when we two were engaged in various activities with Captain Cockburn in the Levant and Egypt? He and I listed our three principal opponents as firstly the French, secondly any allies of the French and thirdly the Admiralty.
Too much initiative was always viewed with deep suspicion and we had to study our orders very carefully indeed. They told us what to do and how to do it. If we were to succeed, it was often vital to know everything that had not been specifically forbidden.
I vowed when I got the Hornets, that I should always say what should be done and not tie the hands of my officers who had to do it. It meant that we had to find men who could think for themselves and give them the confidence to do so. You must know that I do not talk only of the officers, but of every man who becomes a Hornet.
I find it gratifying to imagine that every fully trained Hornet is more professional than nine out of ten of the captains and lieutenants in Wellington’s army.”
“I shall nae quarrel wi’ that, as many o’ them are nae professional at a’. They hae bought their commissions as they would their membership o’ a gentleman’s club.
If their regiment is lucky enough tae get a good bargain, it is only because they discover that they are good leaders and teach themselves not tae make too many mistakes while on campaign.”
Welbeloved grinned. “Now that we’ve got all that off our chests, let us consider what we are to do now that the French have been thrown out of Portugal and Lord Wellington is anxious to have as many Hornets as he can spare, working more closely with his army.
I should like to leave one British and one Spanish company at Santiago. We have to have a presence here to protect our families and our base. Two companies ought to be able to do that and keep the Army of the North on its toes.
Why don’t yew take Paul Davison and C Company and go and find Addenbrooke near Salamanca? I shall follow yew with whichever two come back first and the other two can hold the fort here.
Yew have noted in that report that the peer has sent George and two squadrons of Hornissen to help Beresford clear up the mess around Badajoz? Once we have our four present companies on the frontier by Ciudad Rodrigo, I expect he shall ask us to let George have the rest of the Germans. If so, I am minded to send Gonçalves and his Vespãos with them.
Sir William Beresford is unrivalled as an organiser, but not the best we have in command of an army. Let us hope that Daddy Hill recovers his health soon and can take over again.
Lord Wellington probably has no option, but he shall recognise the risk he is taking by splitting his force. Masséna may have gone back to Salamanca and his soldiers may be worn out and half-starved, but there are still more of them than Wellington has in the north and a few weeks of food and rest and they shall be a different proposition to what they w
ere at Sabugal.
As for Beresford in the south, if Soult is there with anything like the same numbers I shudder to think what shall occur if they meet. Just pray that the Spanish in Cadiz and Cartagena and the Sierra Moreno keep him too busy to put his full force in the field against us.”
MacKay grunted doubtfully. “I seem tae remember that when we were helping Graham at Barossa, we were thinking that Soult should hae tae come running tae save Victor. Instead o’ that, if my calculations are correct, at that very time he was busily thrashing a bigger Spanish army near Badajoz, taking Badajoz itself, together wi’ a couple more walled towns nearby. The French may be fighting fires a’ the time, but they are getting unco good at it and seem tae find enough men tae dae everything they want.
I’ll wager that you’re right though, tae pick Beresford as the one most likely tae lose a battle against Soult. I don’t think Wellington is in any danger for a couple o’ months. There hae been nae great movement o’ men and supplies frae the east tae reinforce Masséna and the peer is canny enough tae deal wi’ anything the French can bring against him.
My ain thinking would be along the lines o’ you joining George wi’ the Germans and two other companies, leaving me wi’ two companies and the Portuguese tae enjoy a quiet life wi’ the peer. I do believe you hae tae be there yourself. You hae the rank tae tell Marshal Beresford what you mean tae dae and make him think it was his idea a’ the time.”
Welbeloved clasped his hands behind his head and gazed up at the ceiling. “D’yew know, Hamish, yew’ve cut to the chase while I’ve been too busy trying to outguess Wellington. Of course Beresford needs us more than Lord Wellington does. I shall tell him so and I shall take the Spanish company to act as an example to any of the Spanish regiments that Beresford has managed to gather together after their last thrashing in the hills above Badajoz.
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