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  I heard officers and sergeants, to my right, shout, “Steady! Wait for the command!”

  “Present!” This time it would not be rolling volleys. The Colonel was unleashing a volley of three hundred muskets. It would act like an enormous shotgun. The British Army had perfected this art. The soldiers knew they just had to aim at the middle of the advancing men and fire. The blue mass which approached could bring, at best, sixteen muskets to bear. They relied on the momentum of the column to carry them forward. Often the men at the front might be dead, their bodies held in place by the ones behind them. The Colonel waited until they were sixty paces from us. The men would be able to reload before it came to bayonets.

  “Fire!”

  The cordite fog filled the space between the two forces. Men screamed.

  “Reload!”

  “Fire!”

  I actually saw the musket balls tear through the French column just twenty paces from us as. They also ripped the heart from the attack. I heard the bugle sound retreat. We had beaten them again but, even as this column moved back to the city, I heard a third column as they came up the road with drums beating and shouts of ‘Vive L’Empereur!’

  The Colonel took out a hip flask and offered it to me. I shook my head. He took a swig, “Persistent beggars, what?”

  “They are indeed, sir.” I turned, “How are your men coping, Captain Turner?”

  “Cuts, grazes and splinters, sir.”

  The smoke was dissipating once more but it still lingered making it hard to see what they were doing. This time the French tried something different. I heard the orders being shouted. “Sir, they are going to deploy into three lines and then attack.”

  Colonel Donkin looked at me in surprise, “You speak French then?”

  It seemed an inconsequential thing to say, “Yes sir!”

  “Reload!”

  As the smoke disappeared, I saw that the French battalions had a frontage of sixty men. The street up which they marched made deployment difficult but they managed it. There were still one hundred and ten paces separating us. The French Colonel shouted, “Avant!”

  They would march to within sixty paces of us and then fire. This would be a close-run thing. My pistols were already reloaded. Even as they deployed and prepared to fire, I heard the clipped voice of Brigadier Henry Campbell. He commanded the Guards Brigade, “Brigade, prepare! Brigade, Fire!” The Guards Brigade opened fire on the flank of the column.

  Colonel Donkin shouted, “Fire!”

  Attacked on two sides they broke almost immediately. Brigadier Campbell’s voice echoed, “Advance!” The bugle sounded and we obeyed.

  However, Colonel Donkin’s brigade was Irish. They did not do the measured advance of the Guards. They gave wild cheers and hurtled after the French. I saw Colonel Donkin shake his head and then, sword in hand, he charged after his men.

  Chapter 12

  I followed. My part in this battle was done but I was a spy. I knew what to look for. The redcoats ahead of me would be intent upon killing Frenchmen and when that was done, they would seek alcohol. The French officer had been right. Drink was the bane of the British soldier. I had seen it during the retreat to Corunna. If there was an enemy to fight then they would fight. When the enemy was dead or fled then they fought themselves and drink. I knew that Sir Arthur would need to know what was happening here. As I ran, I saw more wine barges, filled with reinforcements, crossing the river. With Sir John Murray cutting off their escape then soon we would outnumber the French. Brigadier Campbell had been right. Now was not the time to take the bayonet from the Frenchman’s back but where would Soult go? My money was on either Estremadura or Galicia. As I hurried after the screaming Irishmen, I dismissed Galicia. Soult was too clever a leader to risk being isolated. He would head north and east.

  Ahead I heard muskets being fired. The redcoats were far ahead of me. There were screams and shouts. As we neared the centre it became a scene from Dante’s Inferno. The Portuguese had taken to the streets. Men were wielding axes and pitchforks. They were firing musketoons. Any Frenchman who failed to join his fellows in flight was a doomed man. This was a rout. The French were leaving Oporto. I saw abandoned artillery pieces and discarded weapons. The defeat was so sudden that I wondered if Soult had already left the city. I stopped at what had been the French Headquarters. The French flag still flew. I found, in the entrance, scattered documents. I walked into a palace. It was the sort of place Soult would choose as his headquarters. I could smell food and I followed my nose. I saw a half-eaten sumptuous dinner. I picked up a lobster claw, cracked it and began to suck the meat from it. It gave me time to think. Soult had left in the middle of his dinner. What might he have missed? I would collect all the papers I could. I would search the headquarters and then report to Sir Arthur. He would be across the river as soon as he could. First Vouga River and now Oporto; if the General’s luck held then Portugal would be free by the end of May and Spain, perhaps by the end of the year. I ate a chicken leg and washed it down with some wine.

  Heading upstairs I began my search. I was soon rewarded by lists of regiments and numbers of men. There were maps. Soult had not meant to leave them. Our sudden and successful attack had given him no choice. It was flee or be captured. I soon had armfuls of papers which I carried back to the dining room. I collected the ones from the hallway. I had just begun to sort them when Sir Arthur walked in. I heard his dry laugh, “I might have known, Matthews, while others are racing around like headless chickens you are still gathering intelligence. Have you found much?”

  “Yes, sir. Maps and reports about the strengths of units!”

  “By God, we have them. If Sir John can stop the flight east then this victory will be complete.” His staff followed him in, “Major Matthews has done the hard part! Take the papers from him and then begin to sort them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Matthews, as soon as you are reunited with your Sergeant and your mount then report back to me. I have another little job for you!” He waved a hand and I was dismissed.

  I picked up the rest of the chicken from the table and the jug of wine. Sergeant Sharp had been at the ferry. He would have crossed with our horses and the cavalry. He was a resourceful sergeant. He would head back along the river to find me. I walked east. I passed António’s warehouse. I would not bother him. I found, just a hundred yards from the warehouse, a sofa which had been thrown from one of the houses. The stuffing had come out of it. I plonked myself in it and began to devour the chicken. It was late afternoon and my last meal had been with António before we had sailed across the river. It seemed a lifetime ago. I wiped my hands on the remains of the sofa and drank the wine directly from the jug. It was delicious.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I must have dozed off. I turned and saw António. I smiled. That was the effect of the wine. “The General has no need of me for a while. I am waiting here for my sergeant. He will be along soon.”

  António picked me up by the elbow, “We cannot have a hero sitting here on a broken chair. Carlos, come here.” One of his men stepped forward. “Major, how will we know your man?”

  “He will wear a uniform like mine and he will be leading a horse. He will have two of the rifles the 60th used.”

  “Good. Carlos wait here until you see such a man and then fetch him to the warehouse.” He shook the jug and, seeing it was empty, handed it to Carlos. He took my arm and led me down the road. “This is not good enough. You are a hero. My people watched you. You saved the life of your general.”

  I shook my head, “He was just a colonel.”

  “Nonetheless you fought like a tiger. I am proud that Donna d’Alvarez sent you to me.”

  I do not know if it was the wine, the fighting or the long day but I felt ready to fall. “I am sorry about this, António, but I am tired.”

  He led me inside the warehouse. We climbed the stairs. “I have a guest room. I will have my man put you to bed. You can sleep and we will watch.
It is the least we can do.”

  I was asleep before Stephano had removed my boots. When I woke it was dawn. I woke with a start and looked up at António who was seated in a chair smoking a cigar. “You should have woken me!”

  He smiled, “There was little point. Your Sergeant Sharp arrived just thirty minutes ago. He is being fed. He and your horses are exhausted. I know not if your general wishes you to travel soon but that will be impossible until your horses are rested.”

  “Then you do not know the General. We have spare horses.”

  “Your Sergeant says that they are still with the baggage train?” He cocked his head to one side. I nodded. “They will not be here for at least a day and maybe two.”

  I rose, “Then we will have to buy some more.” I made my way toward the stairs. “António, we have a great opportunity here to rid your land of the French invader. The enemy is in disarray. We must keep the sabre in their backs!”

  He sighed, “Come, you must eat and I will get you two good horses. I am glad that I make wine and I am not a soldier.”

  Sharp was tucking into the bread and ham as though he had not eaten for a week. He grinned and made to rise when he saw me, “Sir!”

  I waved him back to his seat, “We will talk when you have eaten.”

  Servants brought me my food and I ate well too. Sharp finished and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Thank you, senor, that was most welcome.”

  António bowed, “You are welcome and now I will leave you, gentlemen. I have some horses to find.”

  He left us. Sharp leaned back and began, “Sir John crossed the river. We saw the army retreating but…”

  “Sergeant!”

  “Well sir, he made a mess of it. He didn’t deploy properly. Colonel Hawker and he had words, sir. The upshot was that the French headed towards Amarante.”

  “Did Sir John follow them?”

  “No sir, he held his ground and waited for more men to be ferried across. Colonel Hawker told me that there was little point in my hanging around and he told me to find you, sir. He is a good chap, that Colonel. He said he would watch out for our horses and war gear.”

  “Then we will report to Sir Arthur. I cannot see him being too pleased.”

  Sharp waved his arm around the room, “A nice billet, sir!”

  “I am afraid, Sharp, that this is as close to comfort as we are going to get for a while.”

  It was as we walked to headquarters that the black clouds rolled in. We did not know it but we would have five days of torrential and unseasonal weather. As we wrapped ourselves in our cloaks, we could not have foreseen the effects of the rain. Aides and senior officers now filled the palace. Fortunately, I was recognised and taken to an anteroom to await Sir Arthur. I did not have to wait long.

  Sir Rowland Hill himself fetched us in. “Damned foul weather eh, Major? Might as well be in England!”

  “Indeed, sir, although as I recall this was the weather we had on the retreat to Corunna.”

  “You may be right but, as I recall, that was winter. This is supposed to be summer!”

  The General had a map. He did not look up, “Matthews, here! He jabbed a finger north east of Oporto. “We have, apparently, allowed Soult to slip through our fingers. He will head for here, the Portuguese border. We will follow but the French can run faster than anyone I know. Marshal Ney is there. We will ensure that he leaves Portugal. General Beresford is pushing up towards Chaves from Lamego. What I need is information about Marshal Victor! He has a Corps which is the size of our army. If he were to join up with Soult then all our good work, hitherto, might be wasted. Find him for me, Major Matthews. He is between here and Madrid. Find him! I will be at either Coimbra or Abrantes.”

  I looked at the map. The distances were staggering. “Do I go as far as Madrid to look for him, sir?”

  “Aye for if he has gone to Madrid then we have won!”

  “And do you think, sir, that Soult will try to join with him?”

  “No, Matthews. I think, now, that Soult will try to join Ney in Galicia. If we are quick enough then we might be able to trap him between us and General Beresford. Leave strategy to me, Major! Your job is to find the French!”

  Duly chastised, I nodded, “Yes sir. This could take weeks rather than days.”

  “Fourteen days at the most, Matthews! That is all that I will allow you!” He waved over an aide, “Jeffers, provide Major Matthews with the funds he needs to buy horses and the like!” He turned to General Hill. I was dismissed.

  I followed the Guards Captain and he went to a strong box. He smiled as he opened it, “You are honoured, sir. The General is short of funds. He seems happy to give you his gold. How much will you need?”

  “Have you any French coins there?”

  He took out a bag, “Yes, sir. This was found here when Marshal Soult fled.”

  “Then I will take that.”

  With a full purse, we left. The rain was torrential. If we had not been wearing our waterproof cloaks then we would have been soaked. When we re-entered the warehouse Sharp said, “I will oil these again, sir. It looks like we may be needing to keep dry.”

  “You do that, Sergeant Sharp, and I will see if António has our horses.”

  The winemaker was shaking his head as I went in. “This will do the grapes no good at all! And it will prevent you from leaving!”

  “I am afraid not, my friend. We go no matter what the conditions. Did you manage to get me horses?”

  “Yes, we have two. I will have my servants prepare provisions. Wherever you are going food will be in short supply. The French are like a plague of goats. When they pass over a land all is destroyed!”

  “I know.” As his servants prepared our supplies I said, “You know, António, I may be able to repay you in some small way for your hospitality. I am related to the Alpini family of Sicily. Their agent in London, Mr David Hudson, is a friend of mine. I could write a letter of introduction. I am sure he could act as your agent too. He has many contacts.”

  He beamed, “You do not need to repay me but I would be grateful for the letter. There are too many agents who would try to rob me, especially in London. If you vouch for the man then I know that I can trust him.”

  “I shall write the letter now while the servants prepare our supplies.”

  I was supplied with ink and paper. Sergeant Sharp arrived as I was finishing. “The cloaks are oiled again, sir. Mind you, if this rain keeps up then we will have to re-oil them again.”

  “It can’t be helped Sharp.”

  It was early afternoon by the time we left Oporto and headed towards Amarante and then Vila Real. It was only forty miles and, in theory, should have been through friendly territory, but I knew that it would take us at least two days to negotiate the road. The rain continued to pour. Sharp led us the first ten miles for he knew it better than I. We caught up with the baggage train of Sir John Murray’s column of horsemen but the 23rd had already moved north and we could not recover our other horses.

  We reached Amarante after dark. There were British soldiers there. They were stragglers from regiments which had been pursuing Soult. They camped. I used my own coin to get us a couple of rooms in an inn. We left before dawn. The rain had continued all night but, as we rode, it stopped. Our cloaks had dried during the night and we had a much more pleasant journey without the persistent rain. The weather might have been more pleasant but the sights we saw were not. The retreating French Army had been harassed by guerrillas. They had reacted in their normal way. We saw bodies which had been hanged. The pursuing British had cut them down. We saw some being buried by British soldiers as we passed. We also spied the bloating bodies of abandoned French soldiers. They would, probably, remain unburied.

  At Vila Real, we found General Beresford’s column. He had more Portuguese troops than General Wellesley. I saw that they were being used to guard the baggage train which was lumbering up the road to meet up with General Wellesley. The town was crowded but, as they had defeated
General Loison, they were in high spirits. The hold-ups on the road and the muddy conditions meant that we got no further than Vila Real on that second day. Once we passed through Vila Real, we headed south and east towards the border and the fortress of Cuidad Roderigo. This was a land which was without a military presence. The war had moved north. We saw the detritus of war: broken wagons and discarded uniforms. We saw the remains of dead horses but it was as if the land had been washed by war and was now at peace. The farmers farmed and people went about their business as the days lengthened and the rain, which had plagued us, gave way to sunny skies. I knew that it would be unbearably hot in a very short time. That was Spain. As soon as we were discovered to be English, we were welcomed. They had little to share and so we paid for our food and shelter.

  Once we reached the border and the fortress which was Cuidad Roderigo then all changed. Here there was neither friendly nor neutral ground. The Spanish Army and the Spanish guerrillas were fighting a war against the French. Some parts were held by the Spanish and others by the French. I decided to avoid all fortresses, as a matter of course. I was not looking for strongholds. I was looking for the French army.

  It was close to Plasencia that we found the first evidence of the French army. We had travelled for days without seeing a sign of war. It was almost our undoing. We had been on the road for more than ten days. We would not return to the General by the stipulated time! The two horses loaned to us by António were excellent horses and we alternated riding them and our other two horses. I still preferred Donna. We were using the road down the narrow valley which led to Plasencia when Donna neighed and her ears pricked. I had come to trust Donna. I knew not why she had stopped but I suspected danger. My hand went to the Baker as I reined her in. Sharp’s hand went to his gun too. We had no need for words. Fighting together for so long had given us an unspoken understanding.

  I looked ahead. The land to the side was both rough and untamed. This was the land of sheep and goats. Isolated farms dotted the valley sides. There were scrubby trees and bushes which littered both the side of the road and the hillside. There were small watercourses which trickled down the slopes. I spied one ahead and I followed, with my eye, its line down the slope. I saw that the road crossed it. There were trees nearby and through them I spied horses and green uniforms. There were French horsemen there. They were two hundred paces from us. If we had seen them then it stood to reason that they had seen us.