I Think I Really Do Have an Ulcer

by Geoffrey Watson

  He thought for a moment. “Did you indeed find the wall unguarded at that point?”

  “Two nights ago, My Lord, we saw no one, but we were only there for a few seconds. Last night there was a sentinel, but I am certain they shall consider that he fell off the wall. We put his body in the Guadiana.

  There may have been more men on the bastion, but nothing that we could not control. It is another ten feet from the wall onto the bastion and I did not consider it sensible to put spikes in before your storming parties were ready.”

  “Very sensible, Pom! You know full well that I have made no provision for any storming party at that point.”

  Seeing that his sarcasm was being ignored, he paused to think. “You presume too much on my high regard for you, young man. I allow no one to manipulate me as you are trying to do, but you have contrived a very convincing argument for something to be attempted in the east.

  I had intended to hold the Fifth Division in reserve, but I am sure that General Leith shall be happier if his men can claim a share in the endeavour.

  Go and find him and bring him here. You may inform him of all you have done and I shall give him instructions about how he can take advantage of the unconventional preparations that your men have made.

  * * *

  The assault was scheduled for ten o’clock in the evening. Pom and his small force arrived at the base of the wall by the San Vincente Bastion by nine-thirty. Thirty minutes later, there was a spider’s web of lines connecting the spikes that had been driven in over the last two days.

  No vedettes were posted on the wall and the two sergeants made themselves cautiously busy, easing spikes into the bastion wall so that they could peer through the crenellations at whatever was waiting on the top.

  They were being sensibly cautious, but there was no reason to worry about making a noise. Fifteen minutes before the assault was due, something must have alerted the defenders at the breaches, as all hell erupted on the other side of the town.

  Having been discovered, the assault parties of the Light and Fourth Divisions surged into the attack. They were met with everything that the fertile mind of Phillipon, the governor, could devise and the casualties were appalling at both breaches.

  Hardly any of the attackers even reached the breaches, being slaughtered in their hundreds in the moat. Picton and his Third Division had struggled to get past the carnage in the narrow corridor between the castle walls and the Rivillas Brook, then set themselves to create the first of the diversions by using scaling ladders against the undamaged walls of the castle itself. Many of these ladders proved to be too short and the defenders here, though few in number, were also inflicting enormous casualties.

  Pom and his men were doing relatively little. There was no sign of the Fifth Division, even after the main battle had been spitting out its fury for an hour, just over half a mile away.

  They were still undetected, but could see the excited defenders of the bastion crowding the inner wall and watching a display of fireworks, the like of which they had never seen before.

  It was infuriating, as Pom could see, illuminated by the flashes of exploding gunpowder, that there were no more than thirty men in the garrison of the bastion.

  At half past ten he decided that he would wait no longer. He climbed down from the wall and collected a dozen Wasps from the gunners and wagon train men who had been waiting to guide the Fifth to the escalade point.

  Leaving only a few to show the way if and when the Fifth finally arrived, the chosen Wasps followed him up the wall to join his Hornets and up through the embrasure onto the bastion.

  Every man was fully blackened and no more visible than dark shadows on a moonless night. The flickering of the distant explosions actually gave the impression of movement that was not there and helped to disguise their approach. They flowed through the embrasure and, with their deadly, long knives, attacked the French garrison crowding the walls.

  Every man, even the Wasp gunners and wagoners, had been taught how to use these favourite personal weapons and the small garrison ceased to exist. No possibility existed for them to surrender. They all died in less than five minutes.

  Pom did not know how many men were holding the next strongpoint, the San José Bastion. It was not important. It was over fifty yards away and could have no effect on this breach in the defences, if only the Fifth Division arrived before the battle was over. The din from the other side of the town was an indication that it was unlikely to happen any time soon.

  Indeed in got louder, rising to a crescendo, as if to signal the arrival, over an hour late, of the first of the attacking Fifth. If this assault was meant to provide a diversion for the hard-pressed men at the breaches, it was far more effective the other way round.

  As in other places, many of the ladders proved to be too short, but the network of ropes and spikes helped the flow of attackers onto and over the walls with no opposition. The Fifth Division quickly assembled inside the walls, beginning to move through the town in the direction of the breaches.

  It was half past eleven and Lord Wellington, appalled at the slaughter, had just issued orders for the assault on the breaches to be halted and for the attackers to withdraw. The casualties had been horrendous. Thousands had been killed or wounded and they were no closer to breaking through than when they started.

  Almost by accident, Picton’s Third Division, persevering with their attack, had managed to gain a foothold on the castle. Their casualties had been tremendous, but they outnumbered the castle defenders by more than ten to one. One or two finally gained a foothold on the battlements. There was a nasty little scuffle and more men joined them until the defenders were overwhelmed and fled.

  Picton’s men from the castle now joined with Leith’s Fifth Division from the eastern walls and hunted through the streets toward the rear of the breaches.

  It unsettled the defenders enough, that a renewed assault on the breaches finally broke through and British troops poured through them into the town.

  In three hours they had been through hell and seen a quarter of their comrades killed or wounded. It was too much and somebody was going to have to pay. The crazed attackers were in no mood to distinguish between brave, but mulish French defenders and innocent Spaniards, whose leaders had supinely handed over the town in the first place and were thus responsible for the entire unhappy situation.

  Add cellars full of wine and spirits to this satanic equation and ten thousand vengeful, drunken soldiers lost all control and rejected all control in a prolonged period of murder, rapine, rape, pillage and mindless violence that lasted all through the next day. It came to an end only on the following morning when scaffolds were built as a warning in the main plaza and the most violent of the drunks were completely incapable.

  CHAPTER 19

  It had been anticipated that the French garrison in Salamanca would react vigorously to the loss of the Rodrigo convoy. Their vigour, perhaps, would have been tempered with caution after the disarmed survivors and the wounded from the ambush by the Hornets had returned to the town.

  Then, of course, the survivors had been followed into the town by five hundred light infantry, demanding an immediate relief column to replenish the starving division around Rodrigo.

  MacKay had guessed that it would take twenty-four hours to bring together all the supplies that would be needed. He looked for a column that would be coming over the bridge across the Tormes, early in the morning, thirty-six hours later.

  His reputation as a prophet was further enhanced when his lookouts reported a cavalry vanguard leading a column of wagons and infantry out of the town before it was light enough to distinguish the colours of their uniforms.

  It was in the numbers of the escort that his calculations let him down. He had assumed that the five hundred light infantry would return to Rodrigo and he had guessed that the garrison might match them with an equal number of infantry.

  After all, the survivors that had returned to Salamanca must have see
n that there had only been a single company of Hornets. They could not have known about Hickson and B Company, who had been busy at the time, making life unpleasant for foragers from around Rodrigo.

  Naturally, the light infantry from Rodrigo would have known about that, but they couldn’t know that it wasn’t the same company that had brought about both reverses.

  It would be natural for the returning survivors to exaggerate the numbers of the troops that beat them. Nobody would wish to be thought of as a coward when they had surrendered to a fraction of their own force.

  Even if, in reporting, they had doubled the numbers of their assailants, it still couldn’t justify two squadrons of chasseurs and three battalions of infantry. Three under- strength battalions, to be sure, but a column, in total, of fifteen hundred men: odds of six to one.

  Of course, his men were Hornets. They were well trained and very confident, but they were the Spanish battalion, armed with Roberto’s carbines and not nearly as experienced as the other three.

  That would be little enough of a problem if he could find a truly great defensive position, but the road from Salamanca to Rodrigo was only relatively poor and was reasonably straight along almost all of its length.

  There were stretches where access on one side or the other was restricted, particularly for horsemen. These stretches were where he would normally set an ambush and expect to triumph over two or three times his own numbers. More than that if his men were armed with rifles, but there were very few of those as yet in the Avispónes.

  It looked as though this would have to be a series of hit and run encounters and he couldn’t guarantee that he could stop some of them at least getting through.

  He could and would cause them severe damage, but most of all, he would have his revenge on them for spoiling his image for infallibility. He grinned at the thought. He was only too aware that such an image was a mere bubble, waiting to be burst every time he guessed wrongly.

  He chatted to his commanders, Hickson and Evans, as their companies retired to take up positions at the last place where they had ambushed the French.

  “Ye hae both seen the force that the enemy is deploying against us, Gentlemen. As they hae only seen part o’ our strength thus far, as near as I can recollect, we must regard it as a compliment tae our reputation; inconvenient though it is.

  We also hae tae assume that many o’ them in the column ken verra well what we can dae. They shall already hae faced us, or spoken tae those we hae released for lack of means o’ keeping them.

  It shall be disappointing, though not surprising, if some o’ those latter are marching against us, sae soon after their release. We did warn them that we should nae be as tolerant if we caught them again, but I doubt that shall find any favour among their commanders.

  In any event, it may work in our favour if they bring such veterans wi’ them. It shall be surprising if they are nae just the least amount shy. Let us hope so. We may need all the advantage we can get.”

  Evans grinned cheerfully. “It is thinking I am, Hamish, that over half of them look like voltigeurs or foot chasseurs. Standing up to be shot is not what they enjoy. Skirmishing they shall be, I warrant, from the moment our powder smoke is seen.

  If they invite all their friends to join the party, impossible it is to stop them all. Shooting every Frog we see until they come within a hundred yards is what I recommend. After that, we retreat: each man to cover his partner as we go.”

  MacKay nodded. “Sensible, Dai, but what about the cavalry? They are almost certain tae be first on the scene.”

  Hickson answered. “I’ve been looking at their horses, Hamish. There isn’t one of them that doesn’t look young, skittish and only half trained. If I have one of my platoons mounted and deployed some way back and across the road, it may tempt them to attack through the killing area covered by our skirmishers. They shall be unable to leave the road at that point and shall be destroyed. My guess though, is that they shall take one look and leave it to the voltigeurs.”

  He thought for a second. “It may be sensible to have a mounted platoon there anyway. The road is not wide enough to hold more than that and a smart charge along the level, whilst our skirmishers retire, could be just the thing to distract the Frogs, provided our lads don’t linger too long.”

  MacKay chuckled. “I find it reassuring that both your assessments coincide wi’ the way I hae been thinking. Put your best shots on the slope above the road, but gie the infantry space tae deploy before they come intae range. Start tae retire when they get closer than a hundred yards, if they commit more men than ye can contain.

  Pick your most accomplished riders for the mounted platoon, Ramon. Use them on the cavalry or the skirmishers as necessary. Ye may want tae lead them yourself, in which case let Dai take over your skirmishers.

  Both of ye, listen for my whistle. Two long blasts and we all move along tae the next ambush. Comprende?”

  They both grinned and chorused, “Comprendemos, Hamish!”

  The Hornets may have been satisfied with their plans and dispositions, but success depended on the French playing their part in any of the variety of ways that Hamish MacKay and his captains were anticipating.

  From the moment that the head of the convoy approached the first of the places where the road cut across the face of one of the foothills of the Sierra de la Peña de Francia, it became apparent that someone in authority had been using his brain. Not only that, but it had to be someone who had had first-hand experience of the lethal power of the Hornets and knew that it was they who had mauled and captured the previous convoy.

  The leading squadron of chasseurs à cheval approached the rise up to the danger area with the greatest degree of caution, well before they had climbed high enough to see Hickson’s mounted platoon drawn up across the track, some half mile away.

  Their commander and his officers were using their field telescopes during frequent stops, to make a detailed survey of the rising ground to the left of the road, where experience told them that dirt-brown clad skirmishers were likely to be concealed.

  As soon as Hickson’s platoon was spotted, the chasseurs halted completely and messengers were despatched to the rear to warn the rest of the column. As a result, the telescopes were joined by other telescopes, mostly attached to colourful uniforms with lace and braid in proportion to the exalted position of the wearers.

  The mounted platoon was examined briefly, but most of the attention was directed toward the slope above them. This was indeed where the Hornets were lying, but none of them was hidden more than two hundred yards from their mounted colleagues and even a powerful telescope would have had difficulty picking them out from half a mile away.

  Two junior telescopes moved slowly forward to where the slope on their left became too difficult for horses. They dismounted and used their glasses to conduct a yard by yard search of the four hundred-yard stretch in front of the mounted platoon.

  The nearest Hornets were two hundred yards away at this point and hidden as skilfully as they were able, given the steepness of the slope and relative lack of cover.

  Even so, the telescopes had been told what to look for and it was possible to imagine the feelings of the searchers when the small boulders that they were examining showed two eyes glaring at them and no doubt a musket barrel pointing toward them.

  They showed great sang froid by staying there as long as necessary, then quite casually remounting and trotting back to report.

  It was no surprise when the squadron turned about and trotted back down the road. It would have been almost certain death to try and teach that small, impertinent platoon of horsemen a lesson.

  Their place was taken by a battalion of light infantry. They spread themselves across the road and for a hundred yards up the relatively gentle slope to their left at that point, as if preparing to advance in a skirmish line a hundred yards across. The next battalion could be seen moving up behind them in support.

  The two companies of Avispónes, wait
ing in hiding, braced themselves for an all-out attack by a thousand skirmishers, running and leaping toward them. There could only be one end to such an attack. If they were quick, they could shoot twice at the enemy mass when it was between two hundred yards and a hundred.

  It would be like shooting into a stampeding herd of cattle: no chance at all of everyone selecting a separate target. It is doubtful if they would be able to hit their own number of the enemy before they were engulfed or chased ignominiously from the field.

  Then, to their amazement, they saw camp fires started and kettles placed over them. A thousand French soldiers were settling down for a break and taunting the Hornets about their inability to do anything about it.

  MacKay summoned Evans and Hickson. He looked at them ruefully. “Regard this as a compliment, Gentlemen. It had tae happen sooner or later that they should find a way o’ dealing wi’ us. I imagine that they shall now wait until dark and come for us wi’ bayonets. They hae kenned that we cannae shoot them when we cannae see them.

  We must slip away before then and make for the next suitable place. As I recall, it is nearly ten miles. Get the horses brought back and leave your positions at dusk, or as soon as ye see the Frogs start tae move.”

  The place that MacKay had in mind was very similar to the place they had just abandoned. The road cut along the side of the hill in much the same way. The hill itself was closer to the mountains and maybe somewhat higher than the first, but the road across was about the same length and no more defensible than earlier.

  It was not important. If the French could pass through at night without effective opposition, all that mattered was that they should think it was defended and react as they had before. What did concern him was that they should march through the night after clearing the first obstacle and pass through the second ambush before daylight.