I Think I Really Do Have an Ulcer

by Geoffrey Watson

  MacKay chose this moment to lead out B and D Companies at the canter and make off towards the northeast, skirting the San Francisco suburb. A few units of French soldiers were across their path, still making their way toward the scene of the conflict. They scattered in panic without firing any shots to attract the wrath of the riders and were ignored. Both companies were clear and away within seconds.

  Sick with disappointment that they hadn’t even had chance to fire their muskets, the Spanish line filed back quietly into the town. The feeling of disappointment was matched by their thrill and horror at witnessing the quite impersonal slaughter of the enemy. A massacre inflicted by their own countrymen in a way that they were quite unprepared for, in spite of all the marksmanship training that they had received from these very same countrymen in the last few weeks.

  Even the Avispónes were a little subdued. For many of them it had been their first major engagement and it brought home to them, as no amount of training could, the enormous superiority that their breach loading carbines gave them, when used as they had been today. They walked back into the town, ignoring the enthusiastic ‘Vivas’ from those who had been eye-bulging spectators. It was some hours before an enormous sense of achievement took over from the sense of shock.

  General de España had been more of an apprehensive spectator himself. His eyes had nevertheless been opened to the sheer deadliness of his guests. Addenbrooke was left in no doubt, after numerous embarrassing embraces, that should he feel the urge to go out and challenge the whole of the encircling division, the general’s men would be right behind him.

  Captain Burfoot’s sotto voce comment; “right behind you on the battlements, no doubt;” went completely unremarked.

  When Colonel MacKay had planned how he was to break out of Rodrigo, he had restricted each of his companies to two of their light wagons only, instead of the one to each platoon that was more normal. He was reasonably confident that his expedition would be of moderate to short duration and that his contacts with the guerrilla bands would ensure that food and water would not be a problem.

  When they were clear of the encircling division, his previously mild amusement at Welbeloved’s complete inability to prevent the Condesa from doing exactly as she wanted, assumed another dimension entirely.

  Admittedly, he had not forbidden Juanita, his wife, to join in the sweep. He was more than happy to have her accompany him wherever he went. She was always an asset and never a liability.

  It just had not occurred to him that her condesa-inspired interest in the mortars would lead her to tack on one of them to each company and come with them in her self-assumed role as commanding officer. His company commanders must have known about it and had not informed him; as indeed he had not himself when the Condesa was doing the same sort of thing to Welbeloved.

  By the time he noticed, it was far too late and he quickly amended his previous feelings of smug amusement about each of the occasions when Welbeloved had suffered in similar fashion.

  Then he had the thought that everything that the Condesa had done had proved to be to the benefit of the Hornets and his irritation vanished: that and the fact that if Juanita were to follow the Condesa’s example, Welbeloved would be the first to congratulate her.

  When it also occurred to him that the determination, drive and self reliance were qualities that could well be passed on by both parents to his young son and any other children that might come along; his attitude changed completely.

  Not being privy to these thoughts and anticipating her husband’s wrath, Juanita quietly avoided him successfully for several hours. When, at last, she braced herself for the inevitable tongue lashing on the subject of insubordination, she was quite astonished when he complimented her gravely for her foresight and asked her to discuss with Hickson and Evans, the various ways of adapting Hornet tactics to accommodate the new weapon.

  The feeling of relief and euphoria that this gave her had unintended consequences. She was a passionate girl and in their small tent that night, she was even more so. MacKay was relieved that they were pitched some distance from the rest. At the same time, thoughts about the likelihood that their next child could soon be on the way, prompted unworthy speculation that Juanita would have little time to follow up any advantage that her small triumph had opened up for her.

  The example of the Condesa then came back to mind. She had already presented Welbeloved with a second son, but was now back in uniform and being just as devious as any woman had a right to be. Juanita was of that special sisterhood and he was certain that any pregnancy would only give him a short interval, during which he could run his command unaided.

  Following the breakout, both companies circled back to find the road from Salamanca. MacKay had planned to follow it for a few miles, until the Avispónes could move into the country on either side, where they could watch from the hills and spot convoys at quite a distance.

  Instead, they came upon a company of foragers; voltigeurs from a light infantry battalion, returning to their lines with half a dozen wagons nearly full with sacks of grain, kegs of wine and assorted pigs, goats and sheep tethered behind.

  Having been collecting their loot for most of a week, they were reluctant to relinquish it without a fight, even though they could see that they were outnumbered by two to one.

  They had plenty of time to form a protective square incorporating the wagons, even though they had initially thought that the two companies of horsemen that appeared in the distance had to be some of their own foragers.

  In the time it took them to realise that very few cavalry had been left with the besieging division and then mistake the dull uniforms for guerrilleros, the Avispónes had closed to half a mile.

  Although the Spanish battalion was less experienced with many of the manoeuvres, they had cut their teeth on convoys in the early days and this was almost entirely routine.

  Captain Hickson looked back enquiringly at his fellow company commander, Dai Evans, who magnanimously waved him on.

  B Company trotted in a wide circle, from the road south of the French square, to the road to the north. On their way round, two platoons dismounted in turn and went into skirmishing order, two hundred yards from the foragers. The other two platoons herded the riderless horses along with them and formed up on the road behind the French.

  Dai Evans thoughtfully moved two of his platoons off the road to the left, in case the voltigeurs were to make a break for it. Then everyone looked meaningly at Hamish MacKay, who grinned and shrugged, drew his sword and wrapped his kerchief round it before walking his horse towards the square.

  The captain of voltigeurs who stepped out to meet him was obviously a veteran and a proud man. MacKay had some difficulty in understanding his rapid french, but convinced him to speak more slowly.

  “I do not know who you are, Monsieur. Certainly not Spanish bandits, but not any troops that I recognise. I have found your drill entertaining, but I cannot think that those fellows hiding out there are able to trouble us greatly.”

  MacKay smiled. “I call myself Colonel MacKay, Capitaine. I fear that you are sadly misinformed, outnumbered and outmatched. In your tongue, I believe we are known as the Frelons Bruns, but whatever you call us, those fellows hiding out there can each fire one shot from where they lie and half your company shall die.”

  “Ah!” The name obviously meant something to him, as he quickly became more attentive. Perhaps a certain apprehension in his regard? “I understand that some of our cavalry have been unfortunate in their meetings with your horsemen and are advocating more caution when they meet you.

  We, on the other hand, are voltigeurs and we can skirmish. Also, we can remain in square to repulse your riders, but there is nothing to stop us then advancing our square to deal with those cowardly men who lie on the ground to fight. You know only too well that they can do us very little harm until we are almost treading on them, in spite of your ridiculous threat.”

  MacKay shrugged. He was really quite pro
ud of his shrug, having watched Frenchmen do it often enough, but the whole business was becoming tiresome and although he had no desire to destroy these men, he had little choice if the captain refused to be convinced.

  He pulled the kerchief from his sword and sheathed the blade. “You have to accept the consequences of your decision, Captain.” He tossed the balled-up kerchief to him. “When you have lost enough men to satisfy your honour, wave that and the shooting shall stop.”

  The captain had one last surprise up his sleeve. He caught the kerchief and looked MacKay in the eye. “Stay where you are, Colonel! You have relinquished the colours of your parley and shall remain as my prisoner.”

  He turned and shouted an order. Two men sprinted forward, muskets in hand, to force him to dismount.

  MacKay did his best. In his loudest voice he bellowed; “Do not point those muskets at me!!” he was too late. Both men raised their muskets and the captain yelled, “Dismount from your horse!”

  He actually completed his order, before turning and looking in horror at the corpses of his two men, then gazing in complete disbelief at two billows of powder smoke, over two hundred yards away.

  MacKay let out a thunderous bellow. “Stand still, all of you! Raise your weapons and die!” He glared at the captain and continued in his loudest voice. “That was a stupid thing to do. You could all have been killed. I only have to point at you and you also are dead. Now order your men to throw down their muskets before anyone else gets hurt.”

  The nearest men in the square didn’t wait for the order. They had all heard the exchange with their captain. Many of them had heard stories told about these Frelons; stories that now could be seen to be only too true. They would have gladly obeyed orders to go up against a thousand men standing in line. Then they would have a reasonable chance of living and beating the enemy.

  Against these devils; in spite of what their stupid captain might think; they were dead men like André and Emil, with no chance of making a fight. They threw their muskets down and held their hands in the air and all their comrades followed their example, including their lieutenants, when the captain finally stammered out the order.

  Everything then began to move in double time. The two dead men were buried, the voltigeurs were stripped down to shirt trousers and boots. All their personal possessions were left with them and they were pointed down the road towards Ciudad Rodrigo.

  They were told that if they hurried, they could cover the distance in four hours and that the local guerrilleros would not be informed of their predicament until that deadline had passed.

  The Hornets could not make them prisoners at this time and the alternative was unthinkable. If the officers considered themselves gentlemen, and MacKay looked hard at the captain while this was being said, they might consider giving their parole not to fight again until a suitable exchange could be arranged with any officers made prisoner during Marshal Marmont’s expedition.

  Additionally they were charged with warning their commanding general that no supplies would be arriving from Salamanca or any other foraging party from now on. If he wanted more supplies he must fetch them himself.

  MacKay remembered to thank the rifle carriers in Hickson’s company for their accuracy. None of the men with carbines could have been so precise at that distance. For a short time during the engagement, MacKay had enjoyed more excitement than he had seen for many months. For that reason alone he felt that he had earned the passionate attentions of Juanita, later that night.

  The Avispónes felt that they deserved a small selection of the forage that they had saved. The rest was handed over to the guerrilleros. They promised that they would try and find the original owners and return most of it. MacKay didn’t believe them, but had no time to worry about it too much.

  He suspected that there would be two or three more companies of foragers to be dealt with and any relief column of supplies from Salamanca was certain to be guarded heavily. The answer was to split his command. The country to the west of the road was where the foragers would be searching. They were not likely to be in less than company strength, as they would need that many men to keep them safe from the guerrilleros. That did not mean that the partisans could not be used as searchers and they happily agreed to report any sightings to Captain Hickson and his company, who were the ones sent to deal with the problem.

  Captain Dai Evans was comparatively new to his command and MacKay wanted to ride with him, mainly out of curiosity, to see how he was handling his authority. He had known him for a long time and had no doubts about his competence as a Hornet. Being a superb sergeant major did not automatically mean that one would be equally good as a company commander. MacKay remembered his own self doubts when he was first commissioned as a lieutenant.

  D Company moved into the familiar foothills to the east of the road, from where they could spread out and watch all the traffic as far back as the bridge over the river that carried the road out of Salamanca.

  CHAPTER 15

  George Vere listened with great attention to the report that Lieutenant Bruch was making. He used his improving german to ask probing questions and Ernst Bruch replied in his best english. It was difficult to determine which of them spoke the other’s tongue more fluently, but mutual prompting made sure that Vere had a very complete picture of the enemy force to his south.

  Bruch confirmed that it was a detachment from d’Erlon’s divisions, of brigade strength and was moving west at an easy pace. He hadn’t been told why they were doing this, but had listened to Colonel Roffhack and his squadron commander speculating on whether it was a precaution in case Marshal Soult came north by marching up the banks of the Guadiana.

  “They were suggesting that when the detachment the river reached, Herr Oberst, it should move southward in an extended line, but for tonight, bivouac they make in the big valley just over those hills.”

  “That is what I should expect, Ernst. Are you able to describe the valley for me? Have you been in it?”

  “Ja, Herr Oberst. A week my squadron has spent there. Now it is the turn of C Squadron and if Rittmeister Müller has done the same as we did, one troop the little schloss shall use and the other three shall watch and wait in the hills to the south. The French between them shall now be camped.

  The valley is about two miles wide, with hills north, south and east. It opens out towards the Guadiana in the west after four or five miles. The enemy entered through the wide pass in the northeast and some of them may follow the road south through the hills where Müller’s other troops shall be.

  The troop that is in the schloss, trapped may be. A way out can be used, but horses must abandoned be. Also the French may not discover them. Nothing is attractive for them up the long, steep track and footsoldiers shall have no reason to explore if no one is seen.”

  Vere nodded approvingly. “That sounds most comprehensive, Ernst. Have you any orders now from Oberstleutnant Roffhack?”

  “Only to remain at your wishes, Herr Oberst. It is too late to follow my squadron now.”

  “Very Well! Is it possible to reinforce Müller if you leave your mounts on this side of those hills?”

  I think it may be possible, Herr Oberst, if we leave immediately. We cannot climb in the dark, but can get most of the way before sunset and arrive no more than an hour after dawn.”

  “Do so then. Tell Müller that the Hornissen shall engage from the west in the morning and that the Vespãos shall move through the northeast pass in support.

  There is nothing he need do unless he sees a good opportunity. He must make his own decision, as must his other troops to the south. Away you go!”

  Bruch saluted and gathered his troop together, arranged for his horses to be looked after and left.

  Vere summoned the outlying companies of the Vespãos and sent scouts forward on foot to find out how they were to get through the pass and surprise the French.

  * * *

  Claustrophobia had always been identified in Müller’s mind with
a morbid fear of closed spaces. People who were scared to death of being locked up in a windowless room or a cellar dungeon had this phobia. He didn’t like the idea much himself, but he was sure that he could imagine how the unfortunate would feel.

  What he couldn’t understand was why he was now feeling how he thought such a person would feel. He was high up on a mountainous spur and he could see for miles in three directions, yet he had this unaccountable sensation of being enclosed and trapped.

  Trapped, he could understand. The valley below him was swarming with the enemy. He had watched and counted in the fading light yesterday, as over two thousand Frenchmen came from the north, where they had no right to be and spread themselves through the valley, clustering thickly around the base of the spur holding the little schloss.

  The very presence of the French was a mystery. His squadron was watching for movement from the south, whenever Soult got wind of the start of the siege of Badajoz. The marshal may or may not be coming, but surely not this way?

  He knew that General d’Erlon had two divisions somewhere to the east, but they should be at least fifty miles away and anyway, the Vespãos were supposed to be keeping watch on them.

  Being trapped was inconvenient, but it did not stop him being a Hornet. If he couldn’t do anything at the moment to upset the French, at least he could find out as much about them as he could and be ready to take advantage of any weakness that he could detect. He and Lieutenant Meier were the possessors of the only two telescopes available, but he organised a rota and someone always had his eye to the thin end of one of them.

  Everything was of interest and conclusions could be drawn from the most unlikely sources if one knew what to look for.

  Just below the fort was a regiment of voltigeurs. They had been the first of the infantry to appear and had lost no time in picking their camp for the night, with plenty of wood available and a clear mountain stream for all the water they needed. Kettles were boiling over fires before their wagons and pack mules appeared and none of the wagons and packs gave the impression that they were loaded generously.