That they were successful was announced with a shriek and through the crowd of exhausted soldiers and attendant followers came a hurtling Mary to clasp herself to Joe and press her face to his chest. Tom Miles stood and looked at the spectacle, mildly astonished, before using his thumb to point in their direction, Miles’ face now pulled sideways in puzzlement as he looked at John Davey.
“He ought to marry that girl!”
Nelly Nicholls both saw and overheard all and, whilst torturing a piece of cloth for all the water contained therein, she looked askance at her sworn enemy.
“Now, just what would you know about a thing like that, Tom Miles?”
Miles returned her gaze equally belligerently.
“Enough! I had a mother and father, didn’t I? An’, afore you asks, they was married! Church married!”
Jed Deakin wanted an end to the exchange before it started. To him, the arrival of the Warwicks told its own story.
“That’ll do! We has to move back, now. These Warwick lads is takin’ over, and’ll need our fires.”
Then he saw the addition.
“What’s that?”
Davey answered.
“French drummerboy. We winkled’n out from a back alley. Too likely to be killed with what’s goin’ on down below.”
Deakin must have gone through the same train of thought as Davey.
“Give to our Drum Sergeant. Let him decide.”
Bridie had heard all.
“Ye’ll not! Not yet, not till he’s fed.”
She looked at the boy, now easily seen in the firelight and looking utterly forlorn. She held out her arm in welcome.
“You come this way now, honey, and we’ll find ye something to eat.”
The lifted arm and the welcoming face told the boy all he needed to know and he walked forward for the arm to go around his shoulders and the remains of the stew to be placed in his lap, after he had been sat down on a log.
Deakin paid no further attention, but returned to his original subject. He indicated the squads of ordered soldiers moving around in the light of the more numerous campfires, all having been set to make the French think that, throughout the night, the ridge would be occupied in force.
“Look, things is happening. Get packed up! When the order comes we has to be off, an’ sharpish.”
All immediately set about obeying such an instruction from Jed Deakin and the three Lights departed, with their drummerboy, now devouring a doughcake.
Deakin was right. It was but five minutes before the bugles blew ‘assembly’ and the men found their Company Captains, to then join the column whilst the followers took their place to bring up the rear. They set out, blessedly downhill, on the road that led down from Elvina to the main road North to Corunna. They needed no guide, which was fortuitous, for many slept as they marched, often needing to be pulled back from the road edge by their comrades, waking only from their torpor when they reached the highway at Eiris and there they made the turn for Corunna. For two hours there was no sound save a monotonous, rhythmless tramp. Past the column in the dark, as if its constituents were marching on a treadmill, came the shapes of houses and farms, all now dark, silent and shut down, as though withdrawing into themselves and holding to the hope that the forthcoming onslaught would pass them by, or even perhaps that they would awake from no more than a bad dream.
At the rear of the column, Carr, Drake and Shakeshaft were sustaining themselves with French brandy, but conversation was non-existent, bar the one question from Carr to both his Lieutenants.
“Casualties?”
Drake answered first.
“I’ve not counted yet. This is the first assembly since, but I think, for us, surprisingly light, seeing as we’ve just been through a battle.”
Shakeshaft gave his answer.
“Same here. Spending most of our time running around in the village saved us several, not like the Companies who stood on the ridge. They’ve suffered.”
The same topic was occupying the mind of Colonel Lacey, marching at the head of the column with O’Hare. Between these two, similarly few words had been exchanged, except one simple observation from Lacey.
“If we’re below 600, we could be back as Detachments!”
O’Hare tried to be reassuring.
“I don’t think we’re that bad. We’ll call the Roll when we stop, and then we’ll see.”
***
At midnight, Lacey was faced with an Aide stood alongside and illuminated by a large fire, waiting between some buildings, which turned out to be the village of Santa Lucia and there, they could not only smell the sea, they could hear it. However, Lacey’s thoughts were pulled away by the Aide.
“Sir, my orders are to allow no more into the town. It is already too crowded, for the embarkation is going more slowly than was hoped, Sir. So please would you hold your men here?”
Lacey did not argue.
“Very good! Are these buildings occupied?”
“No Sir. They can be used by your men.”
“Thank you!”
He turned to O’Hare.
“Call the Rolls, then rest. We won’t be out of here before daylight, but make sure you get some sleep yourself. Give Carr the job of getting rations back to us. He’s our new Brevet; he can earn it!”
“Have you told him?”
“No!”
“Then this will be his confirmation!”
Both chuckled exhaustedly as Lacey walked off to find his Sergeant Orderly to require him to find the Rolls and O’Hare walked back to tell each Captain to obtain the document which applied to his Company. Eventually, O’Hare found his way to Carr.
“Henry!”
Carr turned and saluted, which gave O’Hare the opportunity for a small joke.
“No need for that anymore, at least not to me. You’ve heard about Simmonds?”
“Yes Sir. I’m very sorry!”
“Indeed, but we need a new Major and we’re making you Brevet.”
Carr took a step back in astonishment.
“Me Sir?”
He paused to indulge in some serious eye blinking.
“Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“Forget the thanks, it is well merited and may only last until we get home, as you well know, but meanwhile, get Drake here to call your Roll. I, we, want you to get into Corunna and get us some rations for the morning. You’re a Major now, so throw your weight about a bit!”
As O’Hare walked off, Drake and Shakeshaft, who had overheard, ran up; Drake to arrive first, hand extended.
“Most sincere congratulations, Henry!”
This was quickly followed by Shakeshaft.
“Same from me, Sir. Well done!”
Carr managed a rictus grin, made more sinister by the firelight, but he was genuinely shocked and could only mumble thanks in reply, then he brought himself back to the immediate task and left. He had no idea how far Corunna was from Santa Lucia so, having quit the village, he counted his paces to keep himself awake and had just reached the significant figure of 1000 when he arrived at the main town gate. Inside he saw what could well be described as one of the quieter portions of Hell. At all street corners were fires or braziers and both into and out of their light came animated and hurrying figures, the fires throwing their shadows onto the pale walls as manic shapes, small, then large, but always frenzied and always accompanied by urgent shouts and cries of near panic. The light also cast its yellow and inadequate light on columns of men, some shuffling forward towards the quaysides, some slumped down on the hard cobbles, whilst the civilians of the town ran hither and thither, carrying timber, sacks, bales of anything and buckets of sand. The people were preparing for a French siege. Carr walked on and, by pure chance, found the square. There he calculated which building was both the largest and the busiest and he walked into it.
Meanwhile had come the sombre calling of the Rolls, each Company Commander, by lamplight, calling out the names and making their mark to show dead, alive or
wounded. Now, being stood still and in their ranks, fatigue fully overcame many and these had to be shaken awake to give answer when their name was called, for, even though stood with ordered arms, sleep finally claimed them. With the last name they were dismissed to find any wall or corner to there slump into disordered subconsciousness. The Captains gave themselves the final task of reporting to O’Hare who, in the light of a poor candle lantern, added up the ten reports and then entered a low door, to pass the final numbers across a bare, rough table to Lacey. O’Hare looked at him as he read the four figures; two Officers dead, three wounded, 210 rank and file, dead or seriously wounded. Current muster 570.
“We came ashore at Montego with 880 men! We lost more in the battle than we did on the retreat!”
O’Hare nodded.
“Yes Sir. I’d hazard that yesterday we lost more than any other Regiment.”
Lacey released a long, sad breath, then placed the paper in a satchel and blew out the candle.
Soon, both were too far into deep sleep to hear the rumble of supply wagons arriving in the darkest reaches of the night. Carr had found the supply warehouse and kicked everyone awake, then he had told them of the numerous battalions coming off the ridge that could not enter the city and that they all now needed supplying, having come off the battlefield with nothing. The Senior Sergeant of Commissariat complained of their being neither orders nor requisition but Carr had looked him fully in the face, but three inches from his nose, accompanied by his right arm waving expansively.
“And what do you think will have happened to all this, come this time tomorrow?”
The Sergeant had shrunk back.
“In the harbour, Sir.”
With that every available wagon and mule had been loaded and pulled and driven to Santa Lucia from there to be quickly unloaded in the midst of the sleeping battalions along the road. Thus, at the first light of day, the 105th at least awoke to plentiful supplies that provided dough cakes, pork, peas, bacon, tea and army biscuits. For the Officers there was coffee, which did much to enliven Carr and other Officers, although he needed it most, having been the last to awaken.
As full daylight arrived, Deacon again made his calculations and formed his conclusions, which he passed onto Bridie and Nelly.
“We’ll be aboard ship come Noon. Time to shed all as we don’t need. Too much an’ they’ll make us heave it into the harbour anyway, without the chance to make much choice.”
Both women looked at him, both puzzled and concerned, as he continued.
“What you can’t carry won’t be going’. Including him!”
He pointed at Pablo.
“Time for good-byes!”
Eirin and the other six children had been stood nearby, hearing all and holding the mule’s tether. Nelly’s Sally, Trudy and Violet immediately began to cry, quickly followed by Sinead Mulcahey. Without a word, Bridie took the halter and led all, children, mule and Nelly, up the most likely road inland. It was not long before they came to something like a farm and so they bodly entered the gate. By great luck there was a woman stood in the doorway of a decent stone built house, who quickly shouted through the door to instigate the arrival into the yard of what was probably the owner of the whole. Bridie tugged the mule up to him, accompanied by Nelly, to then offer the halter to the farmer, who stood confused and so did not take the offered halter. Bridie, knowing of the hurry, spoke up.
“This is our mule, Pablo, and we’d like you to have him and take care of him. He’s a good animal, so he is, did he not get us over the mountains to here?”
Gradually, with the halter still held out in offering, the farmer began to understand.
“Usted me da este mulo?”
Neither woman understood a word, but the man had at last taken the halter. Nelly was encouraged.
“He’s a good mule, so he is. He’ll give you fine service!”
The farmer nodded.
“Un mulo bueno, dice?”
That was simple enough for Bridie to understand.
“Bueno! Yes, much bueno mulo.”
They turned to leave, but the woman of the house had been watching and she called out.
“La espera, espera por favor.”
The farmer joined in.
“La espera, por favor”
His vigorous pointing at the spot where the women were standing carried enough signal that they were to wait. They did and within a minute the woman emerged with a large jug, which she offered to Nelly.
“Para los niños!”
Nelly looked perplexed, but the woman was pointing at the children.
“Para los niños! Los niños!”
Nelly took the jug and identified its contents. It was full of milk.
“Gracias! Thank you. Saints be with you.”
The reply from the woman of “Los santos por con usted” seemed to make sense to them. The children were all weeping and hugging the mule’s neck, but two good swallows of the milk each did much to soothe them. So, with understanding smiles and friendly waves they parted company, but it was then that Nelly noticed that Bridie was limping.
“What ails your foot?”
“Ah, ’tis nothing’. Nothin’ a few days off me feet won’t cure!”
They made a hurried return to see the last of the followers disappearing down the road and so, with all they now possessed carried on their backs, they hurried on and after the disappearing column. Once inside Corunna, they saw for themselves the ongoing intense preparations for the coming of the French, which Carr had seen the previous night. Both population and Spanish soldiers laboured up with materials to strengthen the weak points of walls already strong and surprisingly modern. The soldiers carrying supplies of war, the civilians that with which to build yet higher, but the women and followers took little notice of either. Not so the Officers of the 105th, particularly one who expected a Brevet promotion at any time, this being one Captain Lord Charles Carravoy. He was in ebullient mood about himself, because, now being fully aware of the death of Major Simmonds, he fully expected, as the Captain of the Senior Company for his elevation to be confirmed at any moment. Thus, he felt well fortified within his own self-esteem to pass comment on the furious activity around him, to his inevitable companion, Lieutenant D’Villiers.
“Pity they couldn’t have stirred their stumps as well as this when it would have made some difference, such as back before Christmas when they still had Madrid and we were at Salamanca.”
D’Villiers looked around, barely nodding, too tired to think of a reply diplomatic enough to appease his Captain and to encompass his own thoughts that the Spanish people themselves were practically blameless. To his mind, responsibility for their plight lay utterly with their ruling classes and their petty rivalries. He was content to simply shuffle forward when, suddenly, their pace quickened as the battalion turned left into a side street, then turned right along another to be greeted by the myriad rigging of a large transport, its countless ropes and “all angles” spars clear against the grey January sky. Soon they were on the quay and halted beside not one transport but two.
D’Villiers looked around at what was not there, rather than what was. All was little more than wet, grey cobbles, bare of anything harbourlike, for anything weighty and removable had been hurried inland for the defence of the walls. The warehouses that terminated the surface of bare stones stood plainly empty, both doors and windows gaping, because those of the citizenry that had been broken in to divest the buildings of their bales and barrels had neglected to close what would hide their emptiness. But such thoughts were soon ended when he heard the noise accompanying the approach of the lowly followers, whose existence who could barely bring himself to acknowledge. They had seen the second transport and were mightily anxious that they should be on the same ship as their men and so they hurried, both up and down, to find their husbands and mingle themselves with the Company they belonged to. Thus, Mary plunged in to stand beside Joe, whilst Nelly and Bridie, their broods in close attendance
, did the same for Jed Deakin and Henry Nicholls.
At The Colour Company, Number Three, Jed Deakin became anxious at the mingling of women and children within the ranks, such was a minor breach at least, but he need not have worried. Captain Heaviside supported by a walking staff, a common crutch with crosspiece hurt his side too much, was slowly progressing along his lines and had not failed to notice those of his men and their wives, now joined together.
“In thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed. Genesis 28. Verse 14.”
Deakin knew what an indulgence was being granted and looked down at Patrick and Kevin.
“You two! Get in them buildings and find the Captain a chair, or at least something for his comfort!”
The two boys scuttled off to enter one warehouse, then another, then a third, from which they appeared with a somewhat ornate wooden armchair, such as would be not out of place in the office of the overall proprietor of the business that had been conducted therein. The two boys brought it up, placed it just so and dusted it off. Heaviside sank gratefully down upon it.
“My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest. Exodus 33. Verse 14.”
All grinned, but Henry Nicholls had something extra and he offered it to his Senior Officer.
“Will you take a nip with us, Sir, against the cold, like?”
Heaviside took the flask.
“I will, and I thank you, but for the pain, you understand, rather than the cold.”
“Yes Sir! Medicinal purposes only. Of course, Sir.”
Heaviside raised the flask in the direction of Bridie and Nelly, then drank of the brandy. He returned the flask, but then they were moving. Deakin pointed again to the chair whilst looking at the two boys.
“That comes with us, for the Captain!”
Their transport was called the Dauncy and her consort the Teignway and within an hour all were aboard one ship or the other. First aboard were the wounded, either stretchered, helped or supported and, as the rest of the Regiment came on board, all on the decks were soon wracked by the frequent harrowing shrieks and screams as the Surgeons resumed their interrupted work. All that were able, closed their ears and thanked their God for their fortune, which had favoured their thin and exhausted, but essentially whole, bodies not to be carried down to join the growing number in the improvised sickbay.
Close to the Colours (105th Foot. The Prince of Wales Own Wessex Regimen Book 2) Page 51
