by Griff Hosker
“Sir!”
After priming it, I lifted the Baker to my shoulder. I would risk a shot from Donna’s back. The French Chasseurs were heading to cut off Sergeant Parkinson and the troop as they headed towards the road. The troop’s horses were tired. Sharp and I had the two better horses. I aimed at the leading riders. It was a long shot; it was almost three hundred paces. I aimed at the two riders at the front. My rifle barked. Sharp’s did the same and we were galloping after the troop when the two bullets struck. One hit a horse and the other winged a Chasseur. The French light infantry wasted one hundred musket balls as they fired a volley at us when we galloped towards the road. The Chasseurs reined in. The horse we had hit was the officer’s. It took half a mile or more to catch up with the troop. Parkinson had kept them at a steady pace. Even so, they were still lathered.
Sharp glanced over his shoulder, “They are still following, sir. The sergeant has taken over.”
“It can’t be helped. Let us hope that Captain Minchin has sharp-eyed sentries. We may give these Chasseurs a hot reception back at Oropesa.”
It was a good job that the French did not try to end the skirmish by galloping. If they had then they would have caught us. They were doing their job. They wished to discover if we had an army with us. By the time we neared Oropesa, even Donna was lathered. “Bugler, let Captain Minchin know that we are coming in and are being pursued.”
“Sir!”
The bugle sounded and, was answered from ahead, I heard the response from a second bugle. There were other soldiers in Oropesa.
Sharp said, “Sir, they are gaining on us.”
Then I saw that there were cavalrymen riding to our aid. It was a Spanish squadron. The Spanish had arrived. This time it was our allies who had the fresher horses.
“To the side and let them through!”
The Spanish cavalry rode through us down the centre of the road. Although the Chasseurs halted and tried to turn, the Spanish horses were fresher and they tore into the French Chasseurs. I reined in and turned to watch as the Spanish drove them from the field. It was then I saw that, even though the French were tired, they were better cavalrymen than the Spanish. It did not bode well for the battle. The Spanish lost more men than the French who managed to evade the Spanish Dragoons.
I rode out each day with different men and used one of my other horses to do so. The French still used their patrols but they were warier than they had been and I was able to ride beyond Talavera and view their army on the Albreche. I was summoned to the command tent where Sir Arthur was holding a meeting with his senior officers. “Well, Matthews?”
“There is one Corps facing you. It looks to be Marshal Victor. They are to the east of Talavera. They are dug in on the Albreche River. They have strong patrols to the west of the town.” Since our first encounter, we had seen both Dragoons and Chasseurs within five miles of the village.
Sir Arthur looked happy about that. “Then when General Cuesta arrives, we can strike immediately and drive for Madrid. Good work, Matthews.” I was dismissed and the council of war planned the battle. Captain Minchin and his troop rejoined their regiment but Sharp and I continued to stay in the house we had commandeered. The owner and his wife were happy for we paid them for our food, stabling and beds. When we left, he would be the richest man in the village.
Over the next few days, the two allied armies converged on our billet. Sir Arthur arrived on the nineteenth. General Cuesta a day later.
The Spanish camp was apart from ours. The Spanish General O’Donoju arrived just ahead of General Cuesta and he and Sir Arthur discussed the battle. It was as they were doing so that we heard firing. This was the second day that I had failed to ride on patrol. The Spanish had taken over that duty. A rider galloped in and reported that a Spanish patrol had run into a troop of Chasseurs. The Spanish Colonel with General O’Donoju reacted quickly and galloped off. I turned to Sharp, “Go and ready our horses. We may be needed.”
The Spanish cavalry horses were fast and they galloped off. We could not see the skirmish. It was a mile or so from the village but we heard the neighs and the clash of steel. The two generals were distracted by the sounds of battle and their horses were brought.
“Matthews, be so good as to come with us, eh? We might as well see what is going on.” Sharp appeared, as though by magic. I saw the wry smile on Sir Arthur’s face. “As prepared as ever.”
With the Spanish General and his aides, we rode east. We reached a good vantage point just as the Spanish cavalry struck the Chasseurs. It looked to me as though they had clashed and then reformed to charge each other. The Spanish were emboldened by the proximity of our army and the Chasseurs by their belief that they were the best cavalry in the world. It looked to me as though they would be driven from the field when I spied a regiment of French Dragoons approaching from the direction of Talavera. The Spanish still outnumbered the French but the Chasseurs were holding their own. The Dragoons swung the battle in the French’s favour. Their muskets and carbines popped. I saw Spaniards fall from their horses. They reacted by charging into the French horsemen. Neither side could shift the other.
General Wellesley obviously tired of it, “Matthews, be a good fellow. Go and ask Brigadier Anson to bring his brigade and end this nonsense.”
“Sir!”
Brigadier General Anson’s brigade consisted of the 23rd and the 1st King’s German Legion Light Dragoons. They were camped closest to the end of the village. I galloped to the camp and reined in next to the Brigadier’s tent, “Sir Arthur’s compliments, Brigadier; he would have your brigade ride to the assistance of the Spanish. There are some Dragoons and Chasseurs making a nuisance of themselves.”
“Thank you, Major. Captain Hargreaves, boots and saddles if you please.”
Thanks to the work they had done in Portugal the 23rd were an efficient regiment. The Germans were just as efficient and the two regiments, almost nine hundred men, were ready as fast as any Chasseur regiment. I rode with the Brigadier. I pointed to the left, “There are open fields there, Brigadier. We would be able to attack them from the flank.”
“You have a good eye, Matthews!” He waved his sword and wheeled, “Three lines if you please!”
Behind us, the two regiments formed three lines. The horses were fresh and the open fields meant it could be done without fear of hidden gullies and ditches. Along with the Brigadier were his aides and bugler. The six of us would be at the fore when we charged. Glancing behind I saw Colonel Hawker to the left and the Colonel of the Germans to the right. I had made my suggestion about a flank attack for the alternative meant riding through our allies and I did not think that would have worked. The skirmish had now degenerated into a duel of carbines and muskets punctuated by individual combats between horsemen. We were four hundred yards from the French when we were spied. I heard French bugles.
Brigadier Anson had his bugler sound the charge. I drew my sabre, the Baker was still in the house in Oropesa, and I spurred Donna. We could barely keep up with Brigadier Anson’s hunter. The French tried to disengage but it is hard to do so when half of your men are dismounted and firing their guns and your comrades are still duelling with their enemies. We ploughed into the French horsemen. I brought my sword down towards a Chasseur sergeant’s head. He blocked it with his own sabre. I twisted and hacked at his middle. This time he barely managed to block it and my blade bit into the back of his hand. He kicked at Donna with his boot. Donna did not flinch and I hacked at his back. This time I ripped through his jacket and into flesh. My sword came away bloody. He wheeled away. I was about to go after him when I saw a Dragoon galloping towards Brigadier Anson’s unprotected back. He was twenty paces from me and I would not reach him in time. I drew one of my pistols and fired. I did not kill the Dragoon but my lead ball hit his left arm and he dropped his reins. The bang of the pistol made the Brigadier turn. His sabre slashed across the Dragoon and the Frenchman fell from the saddle. The Brigadier saluted me with his sword and then wheeled h
is horse to pursue the French. I followed but the French had now managed to disengage. After a mile, he sounded the recall.
I reined in next to him. “Thank you, Matthews. I can see the value in having a pistol in your belt.”
“You are welcome, sir. I learned long ago that a couple of pistols were an advantage in a battle.”
Most of the Brigade had reined in and were returning to us but I saw the Brigadier frown as the bugle of the 23rd sounded the recall not once more but three times. The rest of the Brigade were already formed up when I saw Captain Wilberforce and Captain Jameson lead their men back.
Colonel Hawker rode up to us. Brigadier Anson pointed at the two captains, “Colonel, this is the first time I have led the Brigade and I am most unhappy that some of your officers required four recalls before they obeyed their orders. This will not happen again.”
“No, sir.”
“Major Matthews, if you would dine with me this evening then I would be honoured.”
One did not refuse such an invitation. “Of course, sir. The pleasure will be mine.”
Leaving the Colonel and me together the Brigadier rode off. Colonel Hawker was angry. “This is the last straw! The regiment performed just as I had hoped they would but Wilberforce!” He shook his head, “You are right about him. Now I must think of a way to curb him. The trouble is he has money and he has bought himself the favour of some of the other officers.”
I had sympathy for the Colonel. He had a limited number of options open to him. “If I might suggest, Colonel?”
“Anything you can suggest would be welcome.”
“The worst duty for any officer is to command the baggage train. One troop will be needed to do so. That would punish him and prevent any further incidents.”
“Capital idea. I can see that you have far more experience at this sort of thing than I do.”
I nodded, “I have been doing this for some time, sir.” I did not say that much of that experience had been in French service!
Of course, when he received the punishment Captain Wilberforce knew who to blame. His irritation and obvious anger did not worry me. I was just happy that he would not be involved in any other action which might result in losses to the regiment. The only men we had lost in the skirmish were two troopers from his troop.
That evening I dressed for dinner. The Brigadier had his own staff. The two colonels were also invited. Colonel George von Braun was a good officer. He was a professional soldier. Most of the King’s German Legion were. He and his officers could not understand Captain Wilberforce. Their opinion merely emphasised what Colonel Hawker now realised, Captain Wilberforce was a liability.
The Brigadier had had an ulterior motive for offering the invitation to eat. General Payne was the Cavalry commander and it was he who attended the meetings with Sir Arthur. As the general’s aide, they knew I was privy to more information than they had. They were anxious to know the plans.
I had expected this. It was the same in every army. “I know little more than you, Brigadier. The General plans on striking towards Madrid. We have, now that our Spanish allies have joined us, over fifty thousand men. Marshal Victor has less than twenty thousand. A swift strike could give us the upper hand.”
I could see that my answer had pleased everyone. Sir Arthur was known for his caution. An attack meant that the cavalry might be used offensively. Even professionals like Colonel von Braun preferred to be attacking than reacting to an enemy charge.
The next day I was summoned to a meeting with Sir Arthur. My presence was required as he would have General O’Donoju with him as well as General Cuesta. My Spanish was still not perfect but it was better than Sir Arthur’s and he wanted me to listen to the way his words were translated by the Spanish General. In many ways, it was good that I was there for I was able to confirm when I was asked later, what actually went on. Sir Arthur wanted the Spanish to attack the next day. He had devised a plan for both of our armies to advance on the weak Corps which lay on the far side of Talavera. It took some persuasion but I heard General Cuesta agree. After the Spanish left us, Sir Arthur summoned his own senior officers and plans were put in place.
We were all ready the next day when a messenger rode in. His news was disastrous. General Cuesta did not feel well and the Spanish would not be attacking! I had never seen Sir Arthur so angry. The messenger explained that it was just the delay of a single day. That one day proved crucial. That one day would cost many British soldiers their lives. More than three hundred horses would pay the price for the Spanish general’s apparent illness. At the time we did not know that. The regiments were stood down and I went with Sir Arthur to the Spanish camp. This time it was not General O’Donoju who translated. It was me.
Glaring at the Irish Spanish General Sir Arthur said, “No frills, Matthews. Just translate my words exactly as I say them. I want General Cuesta to be in no doubt as to my intentions.”
“Yes, sir!”
The General spoke in short sentences which I translated one by one. He wanted clarity and he had it. “We will attack tomorrow. This time there will be no postponement. If there is no attack tomorrow then I will take my army and return to Portugal!”
I saw the fear on the face of General Cuesta. He had almost forty thousand men and the French had less than twenty thousand but he could not defeat them on his own. The encounter between the cavalry had shown him that.
His attitude changed, “Tell Sir Arthur that we will attack tomorrow! He has my word on that!”
As we left, Sir Arthur shook his head, “All I want is the command of his troops but he will not allow it! He told me so at Albreche. I cannot defeat the French on my own! Damn Horse Guards and Parliament! They have tied my hands!” He turned and looked at me, “You didn’t hear that, Matthews!”
I smiled, “Hear what, Sir Arthur?”
Chapter 16
The advance to the Albreche River began. It did not begin well. General Stewart who led the advance guard complained that the French rearguard was being allowed to escape because the Spanish were so slow. They managed to get across the Albreche River to the east of Talavera. By the end of the day, our army had all reached the river. General Wellesley sent a message to General Cuesta to advance a little more speedily. Sir Arthur found a pleasant house to use as his headquarters. Casa de Salinas was a large estate. It was surrounded by olive and cork groves but it allowed the General to view the land to the east. The French had managed to evade the cumbersome Spanish and were digging in. We could see their camps to the east. Sir Arthur had deployed our army behind him in a line from the Tagus to the Cerro de Medellin. The British were deployed along the Portina Stream. The Spanish had the area closer to the Tagus. This time Sharp and I were quartered with the General. General Mackenzie and his 1st Division were assigned as guards for the estate. I was pleased for it meant Colonel Donkin and his wild Irishmen were close at hand. He held a meeting with his senior staff and I attended. Sir Arthur was in a more ebullient mood than he had been. General Cuesta had assured him that he would begin his attack the next day and his men were already moving across the river. Once the French were engaged then we would launch our cavalry on the flanks of the French. It was a good plan.
That evening I dined alone with Sir Arthur. He was in an expansive mood. The intransigent Spanish appeared to be doing what he wanted them to do. “Your words appeared to have done the trick, Matthews. It might have been prudent to use you earlier.”
“My Spanish is not as good as General O’Donoju’s, sir.”
“No, but at least it was accurate. I have a feeling that the Spanish General was trying to avoid hurting General Cuesta’s feelings.” I said nothing but I suspected that Sir Arthur was correct. He dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “I wager you would like to be back with your regiment, eh Matthews?”
“I miss them, sir. They are a good regiment”
“But if you stay on my staff then who knows what might manifest itself. You are a clever fellow. You could lead a b
rigade! Would you like that?”
I shook my head, “I am sorry, Sir Arthur, but I know what the soldiers in the regiments would think if I was dropped amongst them. If I was Colonel of the regiment that would be one thing but to be foisted on two regiments? No sir.”
“That is a rare quality, Matthews. You are offered a brigade and you refuse. Don’t get me wrong, I find it refreshing but I have not seen it before.” He rose. “It will be an early start in the morning. If all goes well, we could be at Madrid in a week. By then General Crauford and his men will have reached us as well as the other regiments I requested. Perhaps things are looking up, eh, Matthews?”
“I hope so, sir.”
I rose early and went, with my sergeant, to the stables. Sharp and I saw to our horses and then went to the kitchen to get some food. One only dined with the General when invited and I had not been invited. Sharp and I went to speak with the sentries who were in the olive groves. We followed the smell of frying ham. I had no idea where they had found it but the smell, despite the fact that Sharp and I had already eaten, was irresistible.
I saw Captain Turner and his men. They were the ones cooking the ham. The Irishmen cheered when they spied me. The Captain said, “They are pleased to see you, sir.”
“I was drawn by the smell.”
“Would you care to join us, sir?”
I shook my head, “We have just breakfasted, there.” I turned and, pointing towards the house, saw Sir Arthur in one of the turret towers. He was looking east. I saw him take out his telescope. What had he seen?”
I turned and looked down through the olive grove. I thought the General might have been just looking at the advancing Spanish when I caught a glimpse of blue. I looked again and saw movement. I cupped my hands, “Stand to! It is the French!” Captain Turner looked at me as though I was mad. I pointed again, “The French are upon us.”
Even as he shouted, “Bugler sound…” muskets barked.