1808: The Road to Corunna

by Griff Hosker

  The army left Lisbon and began to make its way to Spain. It was ponderous and slow moving. Even though they had had a week’s start we caught them in less than two days. When we caught up with the column, even in those early stages, we saw the women who had fallen during the march. They had stayed with their soldiers who had become ill and when the soldier had died they had been left behind. Some of them had babies and children with them. It was a sad fact of life that they should have stayed in Lisbon and there was no-one to look after them. Now, as we waited in Salamanca and the rear of the column finally dragged itself into the town we saw how few of the women and children had survived the rigours of the march. The ones who had were as tough as the soldiers they had chosen but it was hard to see them living to see England.

  “Major Matthews, why do the fellows bring their women with them? It puts them in great danger.”

  I shrugged, “I am the wrong one to ask, Stanhope. I have never had female entanglements.” I pointed to some of the other officers. “Perhaps you should ask Garrington-Jones there. His wife was left in Lisbon.”

  “That is what I mean sir, why did the men not leave them in Lisbon?”

  “That one I can answer. They were afraid.”

  “Who, the women?”

  “Both. The women were afraid that their husbands would die and they would be left alone in Lisbon and the men were afraid that they would lose their women.”

  “But the women who come with us, what if their husbands die? Won’t they be alone?”

  I shook my head, “No lieutenant, the women would find another in the platoon to take up with.”

  “Really sir?” I could see the shock on his face.

  “Theirs is a different world to ours. When this war is over what will you do?”

  “I will stay in. I like this life.”

  “And if the government cuts the size of the army, as they did after the Peace of Amiens in 1805, what then?”

  “Then I shall go on half pay and wait at home until they need me again.”

  “And there is the difference; when the ordinary soldiers are cut from the books they have nothing. They have to make a living back in England. What skills do they have?” He shrugged. “As soldiers they learned to fight, they can drink and they can live off the land. They end up in trouble and, at best gaol, and, at worst are hanged. They leave the army and they end up n trouble.”

  “I didn’t know sir.”

  “Until you know your men then you can never lead them. They will fight to the last for an officer they believe cares for them. They love your uncle. No matter what happens in this ill fated campaign they will fight for him.”

  “Ill fated sir?”

  “Unless a miracle happens and General Castanos reaches us then we will have to fight the best general in Europe with the largest and best equipped army. The odds will be four to one, at least, in his favour. The only thing in our favour is the land. If Fate allows we retreat but if Sir John makes a mistake then we are trapped, surrounded, and we die.”

  “God sir, that is depressing.”

  “I know. Your uncle is making the best of a bad job. He was asked to support the Spanish. He has done so but we have put our head into the lion’s mouth. The question is can we pull it out before he snaps shut his jaws? Your uncle has the lives of every soldier in his hands and we must help him to make the correct decision.”

  The end of November saw two messages which decided the mind of Lieutenant-General Sir John Moore. On the 26th we heard from General Baird, who was at Astorga, that the French were moving to come between us. Two days later, on the 28th General Hope informed that he was being threatened by French cavalry and that he might not be able to reach us. And, later that day, the final nail was driven into the coffin of the army when we discovered that General Castanos had suffered a total defeat at Tudela.

  There were just four of us in his tent and it was late. “Well gentlemen we are in a bit of a pickle here. What do we do?”

  The Earl of Uxbridge shook his head, “I am sorry, General but it seems to me that we have but one option; retreat.”

  “But in what direction? Do we retreat towards General Hope and head back to Lisbon? Or do we retreat north towards General Baird?”

  His nephew said, “Doesn’t it all depend upon what the French do?”

  “We cannot just react to Bonaparte. That would be a disaster.” He looked at me “You have fought the French more than anyone else here, Matthews, and you seem to know this fellow Bonaparte. Sir Arthur reckoned you had a clever mind. What do you say?”

  “It is true we do not know where he is yet but there is a prize he will value, Madrid. That means he is close to us but he believes he and his men are faster than any army in the world. In Italy and Austria he simply out marched bigger armies. I think he will believe that he can capture Madrid with all the pomp and ceremony of an Emperor and still catch us. If General Hope could reach us then we would have a better chance of fighting off Bonaparte. Without artillery we have no chance.”

  The Earl nodded, “And General Baird?”

  “Send him back to Corunna. We could retreat north east. That would take us away from Bonaparte. I do not think he would be expecting it.”

  “But. Matthews. that would mean he could just waltz into Lisbon.”

  “I know your lordship but having taken Madrid he will want to defeat Sir John here at Salamanca and claim a great victory. So far he has not fought in Spain. He likes to show everyone how good he is. Besides we left ten thousand men in Lisbon. They could hole up in Torres Vedras.”

  “You seem to know him rather well, Matthews.”

  “Let us say that I have studied him.”

  Sir John nodded, “Perhaps some of us should have done the same. I am decided. We will ask General Hope to fall back to Ciudad and General Baird to prepare to retire to Corunna. We can delay the command in case we are able to link up.” He smiled, “A withdrawal is a gentler word than retreat eh?”

  Although the messages were sent and the army prepared for retreat we did not move. The British ambassador sent daily messages urging us to move towards Madrid. When the people rose in revolt I knew that our general was considering going to their aid. General Hope’s column reached Alba de Tormes just fifteen miles away from us and he began to think that we might go to help of the Madrid people who had risen in revolt.

  On the 10th of December our fate was sealed. We heard that Madrid had finally fallen to the French and had confirmation that Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte had an army in excess of a hundred and forty thousand men available to him. The orders were given and the army slipped silently out of Salamanca. Our Spanish adventure had ended ignominiously. We skulked out with our tails between our legs.

  Once again my troop was used to scout ahead as we made our way north to Alaejos. We had at least combined with Sir John Hope’s column. We now had some artillery and we were reunited with our cavalry.

  Before we left the slow moving column I spoke with my sergeants and officers. “More than ever before, we will be spread out thinly. I want the men operating in fives under a sergeant or a corporal. Lieutenant Austen and I will monitor five sections each. If we keep a mile between each section we should be able to see a large area and be hard to see ourselves.”

  I knew that there were horsemen in Valladolid, to the north east of us and I rode close to Sergeant White and his section. It was a chill wind which whipped from the east and chilled us to the bone. There was a temptation to hide in one’s cape and keep warm. We had to do the opposite. It was fortunate that we did for a keen eyed trooper shouted, “Sir, a rider!”

  There, just a mile away was a despatch rider and he was heading north, towards Valladolid. “After him! Sergeant you and two of the lads cut off his retreat, I think Badger has the legs of him.”

  Badger was a fast horse but more than that he had the stamina to keep going for long distances. The despatch rider would be equally well mounted. I leaned forward in the saddle and urged Badger on. I
nexorably I drew away from the others and slowly gained on the despatch rider. He kept glancing over his shoulder to see where I was. That was a mistake as it allowed me to close each time he did that. I kept Badger going at a steady pace.

  Eventually the rider realised his error and stopped looking behind him. He leaned forward in the saddle and whipped his horse on. I stopped gaining. I was just fifty yards away and I might as well have been five miles. I did not look around but I knew that my men would be spread out along the road. I decided to waste some ball and powder. I drew a pistol and cocked it. I had one chance in a hundred of hitting him but I held the pistol before me and aimed low. It was a good shot but it did not hit him. It must have zipped next to him and his horse. He whipped his horse harder. I drew a second pistol and fired with that. I had the same result but this time it must have been closer for he jerked the reins to one side to get away from the danger. His horse’s hooves left the poorly maintained road and must have caught one of the many potholes at the side. Horse and rider cart wheeled and crashed down at the side of the road.

  I could see, from the unnatural angle of his head, that the young despatch rider was dead. The horse was not dead but both forelegs were broken. I took out my last pistol and, while I stroked its mane, I put the brave beast out of its misery.

  My troopers galloped up alongside me. “Search the rider.” I undid the girth on the saddle and took it from the dead animal so that I could get at both saddlebags. As I had hoped they contained despatches. I quickly went through them. As soon as I saw Berthier’s letter I knew where Bonaparte was; he was in Madrid. I saw that the letter was addressed to Soult which put him to the north of us. This was like gold.

  “Sergeant, continue scouting. I will take these letters to the general.”

  “Sir!”

  The column seemed to fill the horizon as I approached it. The Earl of Uxbridge was with Sir John Moore. I waved the letter as I approached. “Sir, I have despatches from Berthier to Soult!”

  The General’s staff pulled over to the side as the ponderous column continued north east towards a meeting with General Baird. I proffered the letter from Berthier. “Sir, this is a letter from Bonaparte to Soult!”

  “Well read it, my dear fellow. Your French is better than mine.”

  I scanned it. “Sir, Bonaparte thinks that we are in full retreat towards Lisbon. He has no idea where we are. I have here the figures for Soult’s army and their line of march. He has seventeen thousand foot, six thousand cavalry and forty guns. He is close to Burgos and marching towards the south west.”

  “Excellent work, Major Matthews. Uxbridge, we will head towards Toro. We have a great opportunity here, gentlemen. We can join up with General Baird. We will outnumber Soult. This is our chance to give battle and to ease our journey!”

  There was a spring in our step as we headed for Toro. We were, to all intents and purposes, invisible. The French had no idea where we were but, thanks to the despatches, we knew precisely where they were. Each day took us further from Bonaparte and increased our chances of salvaging something from this campaign.

  It was on the 18th that we finally reunited the whole army. The air of expectation permeated the whole of the camp and the village of Villalpando. The Earl of Uxbridge sent me out to find the enemy. I took my troopers who now had the best eyes in the army. We headed to Saldana. We knew that it was on the route which Soult would take. I avoided Sahagun and approached Saldana from the east. It was a wise move and we saw the whole of Soult’s army. I could see that the numbers were roughly the ones we had expected. I took us back to our camp but this time I passed closer to Sahagun. I saw that there were cavalry there. It looked to me to be two regiments. They would be the vedettes for the main army and would be protecting Soult’s left flank.

  It was late afternoon when we reached the camp and the men were exhausted. Sharp and I reported to the Earl of Uxbridge and the General. “By God sir, we have him!”

  Sir John sat back in his canvas chair. “Have who, Uxbridge?”

  “Soult. Let me take Matthews here and some troopers. We can get rid of the vedettes and the road to Saldana will be open.”

  “What do you think, Matthews?”

  “I think it is a good plan sir. The French will not be expecting it but the troop I took out will be too tired to go out again.”

  “Your boys have done more than their fair share already Matthews. It is time we blooded some of the others. I will take the 10th and the 15th. You have better change your horse. We leave in an hour.”

  Neither Sharp nor I even considered leaving our horses behind. When you went into battle then you needed a beast you knew. Maria and Badger would be rested the next day.

  We approached the darkened village from the east. “Their main camp is to the north west of the town. I can only see pickets on the main road sir.”

  “Good. General Slade, you attack the town with the 10th. Major Matthews and I will go around the village and attack their camp.”

  The General nodded, “What will be my signal sir?”

  “You don’t need a damned signal! When you see the buggers you attack, sir!”

  I smiled. Uxbridge was a cavalryman right down to his boots. We rode around the village to reach the far side. We had heard nothing from General Slade and the Earl was not disposed to wait, for he heard noises in their camp. Even though we were outnumbered by four to one he drew his sword. “Right 15th; let us see what you are made of. Sound the charge!” There was a huge cheer from the two hundred Hussars and we galloped into the French camp.

  The bugle had alerted the French to our charge. They were hurriedly saddling horses. We fell upon them and caught them as they were dressing, saddling or in some cases, just waking up. The Dragoons tried to fire their muskets at us and that was a mistake. It was too dark and it ruined their night vision when they did so. I hacked down at a Dragoon who had not even had time to don his helmet. My sword sliced down and split his skull. Sharp was screaming his own war cry next to me as he sabred a dragoon who was trying to draw his sword. And then we were amongst the Chasseurs. I could see from the different uniforms that this was the provisional regiment we had seen at Valladolid. They had neither esprit de corps nor leaders. It was not a battle it was a slaughter. I saw the remnants of the Dragoons, in the distance, as they fled the field. Had General Slade been on time we would have had them all. As it was we killed over a hundred and fifty Chasseurs that night. The 1st Provisional Chasseurs à Cheval ceased to exist. We lost two men dead and twelve others wounded. It was the most one sided fight I had ever participated in.

  It had the most dramatic effect on the camp. It was a bigger celebration than when Sir Arthur had defeated Junot at Vimeiro. We made plans to attack Soult on the 23rd. By Christmas we hoped to have secured this part of Spain.

  The Earl forbade me to lead the patrols on the 22nd. “My dear fellow, you have done enough. Let your subordinates carry some of the responsibility. They are fine fellows and do you credit. You cannot win the war single handedly.”

  The patrols were productive although the news they brought was less than welcome. We captured more despatches and learned that Bonaparte and Marshal Ney were racing north with the Imperial Guard. Even worse was the news that Soult had summoned reinforcements. He now outnumbered us.

  Lieutenant-General Moore looked despondent when we received the news. All of the senior officers waited for his decision. He shook his head, sadly. “We will not be able to attack Soult tomorrow after all, gentlemen. The outcome would be in the balance and I do not intend to become the Christmas nut in the Emperor’s crackers. We break camp and on Christmas Eve we will head for Corunna. I hope to embark the army before the Emperor arrives. I would save the army to fight another day.”

  Even the most belligerent of senior officers saw the wisdom in that but it was a hard order to give and so began the disastrous retreat to Corunna.

  Chapter 20

  Sergeant Sharp could not understand the delay in beginnin
g the retreat. “It seems to me, sir, that if we have to retreat then the sooner we start the better.”

  “I know how it looks Alan, but for once the generals have it right. We have to send the artillery first and then the wagons. If we do not then the road will become clogged. We move at the pace of the slowest. The cavalry will be at the rear. General Moore has to organise the regiments which will be the rearguard.” I lowered my voice. “We both know there are some regiments who would not be the best choice for such a role.”

  ”And what about us sir? Will we be the scouts again?”

  “Not this time. We are to be with the Earl of Uxbridge with the cavalry and his brother General Paget will command the infantry. I, for one, am happy for it means we fight with the rifles and they are fine fellows.”

  The retreating column was filled with unhappy soldiers. We had little food and the British soldier always fought better on a full stomach; added to that the snow was falling heavily. Some soldiers had barely any shoes and the remaining women were all almost barefoot. It was a sorry army which headed towards the coast. The Earl of Uxbridge gathered his commanders together. There were just five of us. The 20th had ceased to be an effective force and they had been sent, along with other weakened regiments, to escort the heavy artillery to Vigo where they would be taken off. I wished that Colonel Trant and his Portuguese were still with us. He was a rascal but the man and the men he commanded knew how to fight.

  “Gentlemen each regiment of horse will take it in turns to shadow the French. The burden will be spread. If the enemy come too close to us then it will be our task to slow them down and aid General Paget’s rearguard. We all know what Black Bob and his men can do but we will play our part too.” He paused. I knew why he made his next statement for he had already discussed this with me. “If any horse is unable to carry on then it must be killed. If the enemy is close by, then knives and hammers will be used to destroy the unfortunate animals.” It was the hardest order to issue and the one which the troopers would find it difficult to obey.