I Think I Really Do Have an Ulcer

by Geoffrey Watson

  Four or five additional piles of sand were put in position to define a crescent of long hills, together making the rough shape of a waning moon; the top starting by Almaraz and the hills sweeping south and east in the area between the river and the mountains. The Tagus; about a hundred yards wide at that point; bisected the upper quarter of the crescent of hills, cutting through one of the piles of sand at the point where the new pontoon bridge was built.

  For the moment, the cold meats that were on offer were ignored by the Hornets and General Hill’s staff. Vere gently chopped a passage with his hand, through the mountain chain, directly south of the pontoon bridge.

  “The road that we are using at the moment passes through the mountains at this point, Gentlemen. Overlooking the pass, which is called Miravete, the French have built three forts on the western prominence. They are strongly built, have plenty of guns and have complete command over the road for at least a mile. It would be suicidal to use the road in daylight while the forts contain hostile garrisons.

  In my opinion, it would also be suicidal to attempt to take them without siege artillery. They can support each other with cannon fire into any attacking force.”

  What he didn’t say was that the Hornets had the skills to attempt a night-time escalade, provided that the French could be caught off guard. It would be a perilous venture against newly built forts with few points to be found where spikes could be driven. He waited for comments and Sir Rowland duly obliged.

  “I do find masterly, your miniature depiction of our objective, Colonel. So good is it, I do declare, that I feel to doubt that it has remained so sharp in your memory since we both came this way after Talavera. Certainly, you have refreshed my memory and I can now picture the road all the way to the river.

  Please assure me, though, that you have discovered another way through these formidable peaks and that this masterful demonstration of topography is of more recent observation than my own.”

  Vere grinned unashamedly. “I did anticipate that you should smoke my small deception, Sir Rowland. Naturally we explored in both directions without a deal of success, until we found a peasant who knew of a steep and narrow pass, only a mile away to the east; more of a defile in places than a pass. It may allow foot soldiers and horses that are led, but not wagons or cannon. He used his hand again to slice the soil to show the position of the pass.

  Most of my men are now through this Cueva Pass and I can reveal that; if we move on to the river; there are forts built on these two hills on each side of the Tagus to dominate the pontoon bridge.

  The one on the north bank is the Ragusa Fort with a garrison of perhaps four hundred. The southern hill has Fort Napoleon, also with about four hundred defenders. Additionally, at the southern end of the bridge is a large redoubt, manned by three or four hundred men. It is called tête de pont, which is simply bridgehead in french.

  One of our Hanoverian patrols got close enough to hear the garrison talking and swear they spoke german in the Prussian manner. Doubtless one of Boney’s étranger regiments.

  We have managed to locate the ferry, which is controlled by a Spanish family and is half a mile east of the old bridge. That is a mile from the new pontoon.

  The French rarely use it as it is only a flat bottomed barge or lighter that can take two wagons at a time and is hauled across by ropes that have seen better days. You can leave it to us. It is of little value, but represents a meagre livelihood for a peasant family and can be sunk where they may recover it in kinder times.”

  Sir Rowland beamed. “Thankyou, Colonel. Once more you have made a complex situation seem very simple and I am assured that I may take no further account of the ferry. I shall leave it entirely in your hands to be put beyond use once you have made use of it yourselves.”

  “Take my word on it, Sir Rowland. It shall be sunk when you or we have no further call upon it. It has already carried my German battalion by night to the north bank, together with all our wagons and mortars. They are now handily placed to tackle the northern Fort Ragusa in case the pontoon should get damaged.”

  Hill looked quizzical. “Your mortars and wagons are on the north bank, Colonel? I believe you said the alternative pass was unsuitable for wagons.”

  “Quite so, Sir Rowland. We moved them through the Miravete Pass last night.” He pointed to his uniform. “We are not easy to see in daylight and with cloths around the hooves of our horses and plenty of grease on the axles, the French were quite unaware. Even their road-blocks were unmanned at night.”

  ‘Daddy’ Hill smiled. “I should never have doubted. Let me instead summarise what you have told us for the benefit of my staff and myself. Firstly, we may ignore the three forts, here to the west of the Miravete Pass.” He prodded the sand ridge on the tables.

  “Secondly, the two forts and the redoubt covering the bridge have garrisons totalling nearly twelve hundred men, divided more or less equally between them and that is all the force that we must contend with: eight hundred men on the south bank and four hundred on the north. Are there none garrisoned in the town of Almaraz?”

  “A few billeted there, but no fighting soldiers, Sir.”

  “Then I do not see the need to commit more than a brigade to follow your guides through the second pass, Lord George.” He looked around him. “How about your brigade, Howard, d’ye think they can do with the exercise?”

  Lord Kenneth Howard stepped forward. “They’ll take whatever exercise I tell ‘em to, if they know what’s good for them, Sir Rowland. When do you want me to start?”

  Hill smiled urbanely. “I’m sure you’ve already met Lord Kenneth, Colonel, or at least your fathers are acquainted, both of them sitting in the House of Peers.”

  Vere offered his hand, which was grasped with the minimum of enthusiasm, almost disdainfully by the immaculately dressed brigadier, who eyed his drab uniform with barely concealed contempt.

  “I commend you, Colonel, for the clarity of your report and the ingenious use of soil to build a chart table. If your scale is accurate, it looks like half a mile through this Cueva Pass and then less than two miles to Fort Napoleon and the bridgehead redoubt.”

  Vere agreed. “A battalion ought to clear the pass in one hour, Brigadier. Add an hour for each additional battalion. Once through, I suggest you allow three hours to cross a stream, two valleys and two hills before you reach the fort.”

  “Thankyou, Colonel. I am quite capable of co-ordinating an attack on a small fort without instructions and I prefer that you address me as general or simply sir. I note that half your force has already crossed the river. It were better, I think, if you had waited for my orders before allowing that and I shall now expect you to put your remaining troops under my orders as soon as we have cleared the pass.”

  Sir Rowland’s eyes widened at this. He had always been meticulous in his dealings with the Hornets, in accordance with Lord Wellington’s wishes. Perhaps Howard was unaware of this? Before he could correct him, he saw Vere start to smile broadly and he strained to hear his reply, because he was now speaking very quietly. It forced his listeners to attend very carefully.

  “I have taken careful note of your preferences”---a brief pause---“Brigadier. Also of your expectations. I shall now do my best to forget that I ever heard them. Only Lord Wellington is allowed to give orders to the Hornets and he does his best to make his orders requests when he wants us to do anything.

  There is no doubt in my mind but that your brigade is quite capable of destroying the bridge with no help from us, though it may prove unnecessarily costly in casualties. If that is how you wish to do it, then I shall leave guides to see you through the pass and show you where we have prepared ladders, should you decide to escalade the fort.”

  Howard coloured up and was about to take issue, but Sir Rowland was not prepared to see this go any further. “I consider that to be a very fair offer, Lord George. I also have to express my gratitude for all the remarkable successes that your battalions have achieved while on d
etachment to me.

  Perhaps it is indeed time for Howard’s brigade to earn a reputation for itself. By all means leave the bridge entirely to them and withdraw your Hornets to the north bank, from where you can rejoin Lord Wellington at Ciudad Rodrigo. Please do not leave though, until we control the bridge and have taken Fort Ragusa.

  If, for any reason, the bridge is made unusable, I shall rely upon you to clear the French from Fort Ragusa and Almaraz before you leave.”

  As the meeting broke up, he took Howard on one side. “I do not know whether to admire you for your courage in trying to pick a quarrel with Vere, or rate you thoroughly for your stupidity, Howard. Do you have some grudge against the Hornets when you know the sort of success they have enjoyed in the last three months alone?”

  Howard was obviously uncomfortable. “I find it impossible to accept all the tales about these marvellous achievements, particularly as they always come as rumours and nothing is ever published specifically.

  Also, they do not look and behave as proper soldiers; more like a collection of disreputable partisans. This lot are not even English and Vere is so damned superior. They could not possibly stand up to real infantry in a fair fight.”

  Hill sighed. “That is exactly why Lord Wellington does not allow any of his generals to command them. They are not published much because they do not wish to attract attention and they wear those uniforms because they are so much more dangerous to the enemy when they can’t be seen. When we return to Badajoz, ask to see copies of my despatches and you shall learn about what they have achieved.

  Also, it might be worth you bearing in mind that one battalion of those disreputable partisans could destroy your entire brigade in less than five minutes. They have already done it to the French. It would not be a fair fight, because in war there is no such thing, but I should be surprised if they sustained many casualties when doing so.

  Pray very hard, Howard, that the French never raise a force similar to the Hornets. We could not tolerate the losses that such an army could inflict. Just be grateful that our own musket training is a lot better than the Frogs can do. Almost always their butcher’s bill is higher than ours in a straight fight.”

  Whether he took a deal of notice of anything he had been told is immaterial. Howard was left in no doubt that with sixteen hundred men against eight hundred French on the south bank and another four hundred on the north bank, the pontoon bridge had to be destroyed. Nothing less was acceptable.

  By first light, the brigade was through the pass and advancing across the stream in the first valley. At the same time, an impressive demonstration was set up by Sir Rowland Hill against the three forts above the Miravete Pass. There was no really serious intent, but it served to hold the attention of the garrisons and kept them from interfering with Howard’s attack on the bridge.

  All the remaining Vespãos were withdrawn as soon as the stock of ladders had been handed over. Major Gonçalves and a couple of his men found a good position with a view of Fort Napoleon and the bridgehead redoubt and settled down to observe.

  The French spotted Howard’s redcoats as soon as they began to descend from the high central ridge, half a mile from the fort. They were very visible targets and came under fire from grape and roundshot all of the time that they were climbing the slope to the base of the walls.

  Casualties were heavy among the advancing troops, as Vere had forecast, even though they were advancing in extended lines and avoiding the chance that a charge of grapeshot would catch more than two or three men at a time.

  Close to the walls, a company of French infantry that had been deployed in small redoubts, broke and fled from the overwhelming strength of the attackers. The cannon on the ramparts were no longer effective with the redcoats so close below and as soon as the first escalade reached the top of the walls, the whole garrison followed their departing colleagues, making off toward the bridge and the large redoubt guarding it.

  Those of the garrison who had been unable to get out of the fort in time were quickly disarmed and made prisoner. The rest of them, fleeing toward the redoubt, prevented the defenders from firing on the redcoats, who were close on their heels. The panic was contagious and the redoubt was abandoned without a shot being fired. The French survivors from the fort and the Prussian defenders, inextricably mixed together with pursuing redcoats, stampeded across the pontoon bridge.

  The garrison of Fort Ragusa, overlooking the bridge, should have raked the roadway running across the pontoons with grapeshot, but the French, Prussians and British were so intermingled that they dare not fire for fear of hitting their own men.

  It was a complete rout and it looked as though nothing could stop Howard’s men from sweeping across to assault the Ragusa Fort and finish the job.

  Unfortunately, the pontoons had not been built to support the weight of several hundred men at the same time and it was the one in the middle of the river that collapsed under the strain, foundered and threw upwards of fifty men into the river.

  The first of the redcoats had not yet reached the broken pontoon. They quickly shepherded into captivity, all the French and Prussians caught on the wrong end of the bridge, getting them back off the span before those that escaped could crowd off the other side and leave a clear line of fire for the cannon in Fort Ragusa.

  On the collapse of the pontoon, Major Gonçalves and his two observers abandoned their privileged seats and cantered the couple of miles to the ferry. It was waiting on the south bank and they made the slow passage across, leaving it to be hauled back to the centre of the river before the holes knocked in its bottom finally filled and swamped it.

  Vere had also been watching the outcome of the assault from farther up the river. Gonçalves was able to confirm that there were six or seven hundred French and Prussian soldiers and refugees in and around Fort Ragusa. It was likely that most of them would be around it as there was no way that the fort could accommodate the full number.

  Vere grinned at his commanders. “Wasn’t that a splendid show put on by Howard’s brigade. I cannot remember seeing such a panicky, craven display by French soldiers. I can only think that they were mostly second line, garrison troops, though to be fair, the Prussians probably have no wish to lose their lives in a French cause.

  Daddy Hill wants his men to destroy Fort Ragusa as well as the bridge. Unfortunately, it is difficult to see how they are to come at it while that pontoon in the centre is missing and Ragusa can stop them patching it together. A few, well-aimed blasts of grapeshot can be very discouraging.

  We must consider how we may take the place, but for a start, Günther, why don’t you take your men on foot and clear away all those refugees that cannot get within the walls? Shoot a few if they offer resistance, but disarm them and send them all back here, where Fernando can herd them together while we work out a way to get into the fort.”

  Roffhack led his men in extended order toward the fort. As soon as they were within range of the fort’s guns they went into standard skirmishing order on the basis that the cannon behind the embrasures were unlikely to waste shot on scattered, nondescript figures when their important target was the bridge.

  He could see armed refugees swarming around the walls, not really knowing what to do or where to go, as the fort was already crammed to capacity. The sad thing was that no one seemed capable or interested enough to take control and restore order and discipline.

  As Vere had said, the rabble outside the walls had to go before they could think of storming the fort. It went against the grain to open fire on such totally unprepared and demoralised soldiers, even though they were still carrying their arms. In any case, to do so would alert the gunners on the walls to this new threat and his men were in open ground and very vulnerable to grapeshot.

  He considered fixing bayonets and advancing at the double. Once within a few yards of the fort, the guns could not be depressed enough to be dangerous and the gunners would never fire on their own men being led away as prisoners, when intermingl
ed with the Hornets. Or would they? It was difficult to tell when panic had set in.

  This whole business was messy, although a possible option would be to keep the guns quiet by detailing snipers to fire at any embrasure showing signs of activity. They wouldn’t be clean shots, but it would be exceedingly uncomfortable for the gunners with leaden balls flying in and ricocheting all about them.

  He was about to adopt this last option when the fort suddenly came under fire from heavy guns from across the river. Brigadier Howard was using his head. His men had taken over the French guns in Fort Napoleon and were directing them at Fort Ragusa.

  Any plans for rounding up prisoners in an orderly way were scrapped immediately. Every refugee crowding the outside of the fort took flight again toward the hills to the north, leaving the startled Hornissen too close to the fort for comfort when the occasional glancing shot began to stray in their direction.

  Roffhack was normally quick off the mark with sensible decisions, but he was still lying with his mouth agape when the whole ridiculous episode descended into farce. The garrison of Fort Ragusa could not possibly have been French veteran infantrymen.

  Admittedly, they had watched their comrades over the river panicking and put to ignominious flight, but this was sheer blind terror. The entire garrison of Fort Ragusa threw open the gates and followed all the others in headlong flight into the hills.

  Vere and Gonçalves, who had been watching from a distance in complete disbelief, got the Vespãos saddled up and in pursuit of prisoners as quickly as they could, while the Hornissen stood up and waved wildly in the direction of Fort Napoleon until the British gunners acknowledged and stopped firing.

  It took half the day before the bridge could be repaired sufficiently to let a triumphant Howard onto the north bank. Gone was any sign of resentment with the outstanding success of his brigade. He had a stunning victory and no one, least of all the Hornets was going to question the quality of the troops against him.