1808: The Road to Corunna Read online

  1808: The Road to Corunna

  Book 5 in the Napoleonic Horseman Series

  By

  Griff Hosker

  Cover courtesy of Wikipedia

  The Death of Sir John Moore at the Battle of Corunna

  derived from an engraving by Thomas Sutherland and aquatint by William Heath

  Published by Sword Books Ltd 2014

  Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition

  The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  Chapter 1

  October 1807

  Sergeant Sharp and I had barely landed from the ‘Black Prince’ when we were urgently summoned to Whitehall. There was a young ensign waiting for us at the jetty when the sloop edged along the Thames to tie up at Westminster. Even the Captain of the ship, Jonathan Teer, who was used to the cloak and dagger operations of Colonel Selkirk, was surprised.

  “I think it is damned unfair Robbie! Your leg has barely had time to heal.”

  I had been wounded in Denmark. Despite what Jonathan had said it did not bother me overmuch. I had been fighting since 1794 and my body still recovered quickly enough. The Danish war was over and we had secured the Danish fleet but it seemed I was needed once more. “It comes with the uniform Jonathan. Thank you for your hospitality and thank your surgeon once again.”

  “You are welcome and I dare say we shall meet again.” The young captain had taken me on many such forays behind the lines of the French Empire.

  Sergeant Sharp hoisted our bags above his shoulders as we made our way down the gangplank to the waiting carriage. We slumped back into the comfortable seats of Colonel Selkirk’s coach. Sharp chuckled, “Well sir, we certainly get to see the world don’t we? I wonder where we are off to this time.”

  “Perhaps the colonel just wants to find out about Denmark.”

  Sharp actually laughed out loud this time. “No offence, sir, but I will bet a month’s pay that we are being sent off again.”

  “It is hard to see where. Italy is now too far away for us to do anything about and Sir Arthur has dealt with Copenhagen and the Danes quite well.”

  Sharp looked out of the window and watched the Metropolis as it passed by his window. “I am just saying sir!”

  We had served with Sir Arthur Wellesley in Denmark. At first he had been sceptical about us. He was a snob and had not liked my way of working at first. However the results we had obtained for him had proved useful and he now saw the advantage in having a multilingual spy who could also fight. He had almost tolerated my presence which was unusual for the Irish aristocrat.

  I had never wanted to be a spy. I served in the French army under Napoleon Bonaparte and it had been he who has used my skills as a spy first. However, I had been forced from France and I had fled to Britain, my mother’s home. I had sworn revenge upon Bonaparte for he had abandoned my regiment to its death. Only one remained now, Pierre Boucher. All the rest had died in the sands of Egypt. I now served in the 11th Light Dragoons as a Captain. Colonel Selkirk, however, liked to use me and my contacts to spy on my former countrymen. It still did not sit well. It was not the French I fought but Napoleon whom I believed to be an evil man who would destroy my former country.

  Sharp and I were familiar figures in Whitehall and especially in Colonel Selkirk’s wing. We were whisked to his presence and our bags retained in the coach. Sharp was right. We were not going back to the regiment.

  The dour Scotsman rarely smiled and so when I saw his grin and his outstretched hand I was suspicious. The Nile crocodile has a similar look just before it ate its victim. “Ah Robbie and the inestimable Sharp; good to see you. Sit down, sit down.”

  I knew him well enough to begin to work out where we would be sent. The map on the wall told me all that I needed to know. It was the Iberian Peninsula. I said nothing and waited for his opening.

  “What’s the matter laddie? You don’t look very happy to be here.”

  “I had thought to return to my regiment. We have done all that you asked of us and this sudden summons reeks of another foray on foreign shores.”

  He laughed, “Bright as a new pin! I can’t fool you.” I exchanged a glance with Sharp. Flattery from the colonel was always a bad sign. “You are right, of course.” He stood and pointed to the map. “Your old friend Bonaparte has decided to take over Spain. Now he might just intend to make the Spanish king his puppet,” he shrugged, “I don’t know but,” he jabbed a finger at Lisbon, “Portugal is another matter. It is an old ally of ours and we have strong trading links. I need to know his intentions.”

  “I speak neither Spanish nor Portuguese. Surely there must be someone else you could use.”

  “Not really but you have skills and attributes I can’t buy.”

  “Such as?”

  “The Alpini wines.” I slumped into my seat. Once again my Sicilian family would become embroiled in the machinations of Colonel Selkirk. “Oporto is the centre of the wine trade in Portugal. It would arouse no suspicion if you went there to negotiate for some Portuguese wine and to sell some of your family’s wine.”

  That made sense however it was not as easy as it sounded. “But I would need to arrange that with my cousin and we would have to wait for a ship to be here in London.”

  He smiled again and I thought immediately of the Nile. “Captain Dinsdale is in port and I believe you are a part owner of his ship are you not? He is due to sail on the morning tide and Oporto is on the way to Sicily.”

  “Just suppose I did go there, what would you expect of me and how would I get the messages back to you?”

  He rubbed his hand. “We are allies of the Portuguese; ‘Black Prince’ will call in for some repairs. I am sure she will be damaged in the Bay of Biscay. It should not take you long; perhaps three weeks. Just find out what you can.”

  “But I would have to go to Spain too?”

  “Where they also have wines! It’s perfect Robbie.”

  If I did not know that the colonel put himself in harm’s way just as much as he sent us I might have resented his cheerful attitude.

  I looked at Sergeant Sharp who gave a shrug and said, “I have never been to Portugal, sir!”

  “There! And you needn’t feel you are missing out for your regiment is still down in Kent. There is unlikely to be a need for them until the spring anyway.”

  That was where we differed. He saw the 11th Light Dragoons as a disguise. I saw it as my home. It was the closest thing I had to a home now. But he was probably right. I had been in action since I was sixteen; I would probably become restless if I was confined to barracks. “Very well then, sir.”

  He reached into a drawer and pulled out a leather bag which jingled. “I want you to sniff around. We both know that Bonaparte has people in place before he attacks. Seek them out. Find out about the land. When he does attack we shall need to respond and you have an eye for terrain. Here are some expenses for you. Try to bring some back eh?”

  I shot him a look which left him in no doubt what I thought of that. I would need the whole bag and then some more. It was fortunate that I had an income from the Alpini family and my share in Captain Dinsdale’s ship also brought in revenue.

  “My carriage will t
ake you to the docks. I think His Majesty’s Customs are examining the vessel at the moment.” He was a devious man and I had no doubt that poor Matthew would have had to wait in port until the colonel decided he could leave. The colonel was a ruthless and single minded man.

  The ‘Queen of Sicily’ was a fine vessel. It brought a steady income to me. I knew that it worked well for Matthew too, for he now had a second ship. When the war ended he would be a wealthy man- if he was still alive. These were parlous times for captains who plied both the Mediterranean and the Atlantic. If Bonaparte captured Iberia then he would be in even greater danger. Bonaparte had introduced a Continental system which forbade trade with England. With Iberia in his pocket he could slam the back door shut on that lucrative trade.

  When we stepped on to the dock we were recognised immediately by the crew. They had recently taken us to Denmark. I saw the exchange of looks between the senior hands. They knew that we would be off again soon. The moment the Customs officers saw the carriage, they saluted Matthew and strode down the gangplank. Matthew shook his head as we stepped aboard.

  “I take it Colonel Selkirk arranged the inspection?”

  I nodded and held out my hand to shake his, “I am afraid so, sorry.”

  He shook my hand and shrugged, “Well, as they normally leave us alone I suppose we should not complain. Our association with you is highly profitable. Where to this time?”

  “You may sail back to Sicily if you wish; all we need is to be dropped off in Oporto. It is on your route back to Sicily is it not?”

  He nodded, “And picked up?”

  “No, Matthew, Colonel Selkirk has made arrangements.”

  “Well the tide is about right. I wonder if the Colonel arranged that too. Mr Johnston prepare for sea. Jenkins, take the Captain Matthews’ bags down to the guest cabin.”

  Sharp and I stood to one side. We had sailed with the captain before and we knew he would be fully occupied with the ship until we had left the busy waters of the Thames. As we passed the Royal Naval vessels I saw Jonathan and I waved. I wondered if he had received his orders yet. I knew that I could rely on my old friend. It was getting dark by the time we began to head south through the Channel. Matthew had time for a pipe and I joined him. Sergeant Sharp was below deck, unpacking our bags.

  “How long to get to Oporto?”

  “It depends upon the weather but I expect a week, possibly more. The Navy has the French bottled up fairly tightly but I like to give the coast plenty of sea room.”

  “What can you tell me about the wine trade in Portugal?”

  He looked at me in surprise. “You are actually doing business there then?”

  “Possibly. I will need a case of wine as a cover.”

  He nodded. “There are a couple in my cabin. I find it helps to grease our way through customs.” He tapped his pipe out and let the ash fall astern. “They produce some fine wines but not as good as the Alpini ones. They tend to fortify them with brandy. It preserves them and makes them very popular in Britain. They have a Madeira too which comes from one of their islands. But Oporto is the centre of their Port trade.” He gave me a shrewd look, “You will find that many people understand English there.”

  “Good. And Spanish wines?”

  “Not quite as good but they also fortify one, down in the south at Xerez. “ He was a clever man; he had survived blockades and the vagaries of many governments. “You are going to Spain too?”

  “I may be.”

  “Then watch out. I heard a rumour that the French are casting greedy eyes over it.” I gave him a questioning look and he shrugged, “We captains have an eye and ear not only for the weather but political changes too. Sea captains talk. Now that Boney has most of Italy under his heel it makes sense that he is looking west too.”

  “Thank you for that, Captain Dinsdale. I always keep a weather eye out for the French!”

  Chapter 2

  The voyage took just over ten days for the winds were against us. We prudently left our uniforms with Matthew when we went ashore at Oporto. I had spares back in England. I saw that the Colonel had been correct; our arrival was seen as not worthy of note. The Portuguese customs gave us a cursory inspection. The wine samples were viewed as necessary. No one gave us a second look. We were just a wine merchant and his servant landing from a Neapolitan ship. We both wore swords but our pistols were in our bags. We did not look out of place.

  Once ashore I spoke Italian as part of my cover. We took rooms at a large hotel close to the town square. The gold from the colonel helped the illusion that I was a businessman. As I stood looking out over the harbour I saw Captain Dinsdale as he conned his ship south. I was now trapped here until Jonathan Teer came for me. We would have to survive on our wits.

  I quickly discovered that English was widely spoken in Oporto, especially by the wine merchants who had been dealing with the English for years. I affected an accent whilst speaking English. They saw nothing unusual in an Italian trying to buy and sell wines; especially a Neapolitan who were known to have close links with the English. The Colonel had planned well again and I learned a great deal. On that first full day in Oporto I actually did some business. I arranged to buy some port from one of the older port houses and paid a deposit. It would not be ready until the following year; it needed more maturity than many of the Alpini wines. I would arrange for Matthew to pick it up. The Alpini wines themselves went down well, as I knew they would, and I took many orders for the wines. I promised that I would have the wine for them by the New Year. All of this meant that we were free, as November arrived, to explore the land closer to the Spanish border.

  I had got on well with Charles who was the eldest son of one of the wine makers in Oporto. When I mentioned travelling east he took me down to the river to counsel me where we would not be overheard.

  “I have to tell you, Roberto that it would be exceedingly dangerous to travel to Spain. The French are there and they have no love for you Neapolitans.” He had lowered his voice as though there were French spies all around us, “I have heard that there is a French army heading this way. Perhaps you should take ship while you may.”

  I had laughed it off. I was playing the young Neapolitan who cared not a jot for danger. “I promise you Charles that I merely wish to see a little more of the country so, pray tell me, what is the best way to travel west?”

  He had resigned himself to giving me the information I desired. “The river is the best way. We have some good roads close to Lisbon but up here,“ he pointed to the mountains which appeared to be precariously close, “there are only tracks.” He pointed to some wine barges which were unloading their wares. “I will see if I can get you a passage on one of those when they return up the Douro.”

  “You are most kind.”

  Sergeant Sharp managed to buy two horses for I did not want to be tied to a barge for our whole time in Portugal and we boarded the next morning and travelled up the Douro towards the Spanish border. Conversation on the barge was limited. I had but a handful of words in Portuguese and they were mainly to do with eating, drinking as well as the usual ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. We passed a ferry a few miles north of the port and that appeared to be the last crossing of the river until we reached the handful of bridges further upstream. The trip took two days and I saw few roads on either side of the river. The gorge rose high on both sides of the river. Charles had been right. When we reached Peso da Régua we had to leave the barge for that was as far as he went. After thanking him we headed into the town to find some accommodation for it was too late in the day to travel any further on.

  It was the only inn which actually had a room and a stable and so we had little choice but to stay at the tiny bodega on the edge of town. It turned out to be a wise decision. This was partly because of the food, which was excellent and also because the owner, Jose, spoke passable English having been a sailor before becoming an innkeeper. Sailors learned to be multilingual.

  After we had eaten he wandered o
ver, “The food, it was good?”

  “It was excellent. Tell me, Jose, what are the roads to Spain like?”

  He said, “May I sit? My bones are old.”

  “Of course.”

  He took out a clay pipe and lit it. “I would not recommend the road. Peso da Régua is a nice little place. Stay here and enjoy the country. Beyond are the mountains and the, how do you say, bandits?”

  We had dealt with bandits before in Italy. I knew how dangerous they could be. “I need to find out if the route into Spain is a road we could use. We have wines I wish to sell.”

  He laughed, “You wish to sell Italian wine to Spaniards and Portuguese? I think we have lakes of wine here.”

  “Alan, go and bring a bottle for Jose. Let him taste the quality.” When Sharp disappeared upstairs I tapped my sword. “We can look after ourselves, Jose.”

  “You look like a soldier.”

  “I was a soldier, once.”

  He nodded, “And I was a sailor. We both miss our old professions, I think.”

  I smiled my agreement to that sentiment. “Well have you a map?”

  “No, but I can draw you one which might help you.”

  Just then Sharp reappeared with a bottle of white wine. “Here Jose, open this and tell me what you think. I would that you were honest with me for if you do not like it then there will be little point in wasting my time trying to sell it.”

  He poured himself a beaker of the wine. I was not certain that the pot would do the wine justice but glasses were rare in this type of establishment. His eyes opened when he tasted. “This is a good wine. It is not as full bodied as our reds but it tastes much better than our whites and the Spanish ones are like vinegar by comparison. You will sell it but why go to Spain? The roads are dirt tracks you will break more than you will sell.”

  “You may be right but I am obligated to go to Ciudad Rodrigo.”

  His face darkened. “The French are there, my friend. Beware.”