1808: The Road to Corunna

by Griff Hosker

  There was a captain there directing the fire of the squadron. He saluted, “Reinforcements sir?”

  “No captain. Give them a volley and then retire. Where is General Crauford?”

  He pointed to the bridge where Black Bob was directing the fire of his men. I dodged the hail of lead from the far side of the bridge, “General Crauford, the General is here. He intends to pull back to Villafranca.”

  He pointed to the advancing columns of infantry. “What about yon infantry?”

  “I have a scratch battalion in the village. There is a horse battery about to fire as soon as we withdraw.”

  “Right Major.” As I ran back to the shelter of the houses I heard his Scottish tones ringing out, “The Light Brigade will withdraw and take position in the village. Wait for it! On my command, retire!”

  The light infantry had been trained by Sir John Moore and they were the best troops we had. They came back in pairs. One fired while one ran. Each covered his partner and the advancing French had to endure a constant fusillade as they tried to run them down. I slipped behind a wall and aimed my rifle. I heard the music and saw senior officers leading their men across the bridge. There were at least two generals. This was the most determined attack we had yet seen. The cannon cracked and cleared some of the men from the bridge but they were not large calibre guns. They did not do as much damage as we might have liked. I suspect most of the shrapnel had already been used. The Light Brigade hurled themselves behind our defences. I recognised the one next to me as being one of the companions of the dead rifleman whose gun I was using.

  He grinned, “I see you are still using Archie’s gun. He would be happy about that.” He lifted his own weapon and shot a grenadier sergeant who was urging his men on.

  I fired at a captain who was rallying some wavering soldiers. He plunged to the icy river below the bridge. The rifles were taking a toll on the sergeants and officers but there were simply too many Frenchmen. I laid down the rifle and drew my sword. “See if you can hit those generals, rifleman. It may dishearten them.”

  “Sir!”

  “Right Sharp, let us get amongst them. Fix bayonets!” Lifting my sword I led the improvised battalion to attack the infantry who had crossed the bridge. The cannon had now got the range and the numbers crossing were thinning. We just had to drive back the ones who had a toehold on our side of the bridge.

  I drew my pistol and fired at the grenadier sergeant who raced towards me with his musket and bayonet. The double charge hit him in the chest and he fell backwards. I swung my sword overhand and sliced down on to the shoulder of the young lieutenant who was urging his men on. The spurting blood told me that he was dead. Sharp’s pistol cracked next to me and I used my pistol to deflect the bayonet which was aimed at my side. I swung the sword and it ripped across the side of the soldier’s head. It grated into the skull.

  Suddenly I saw the general, leading the French, clutch his head and fall dead less than thirty feet from me. This was our chance, “Come on lads! Charge!” The General’s aide fell to a second ball and I saw doubt on the faces of the officers who remained. I clubbed one officer who was too slow to bring up his sword and I swung my sword wildly at head height. I am a tall man and the ones before me were light infantry; they were small. They ran. As they sped across the bridge the rifles and the cannon thinned them out. Behind me I heard a cheer. We had won. I helped the officer I had clubbed to his feet and took his sword.

  “You are my prisoner.” He nodded, “Who is that general?”

  “It is General Colbert and that is Colonel Maubourg.”

  “Sharp, take him to the general.” The improvised battalion stood waiting for orders. “Well done men. Now fall back to the general!”

  I retrieved my rifle. The rifleman said, “I have reloaded it for you sir.”

  “Thank you. What is your name?”

  “Thomas Plunet sir. A pleasure to serve with you.”

  “Well Rifleman, you have just shot General Colbert and perhaps saved the army this day so well done.”

  “It’s a pleasure sir but why doesn’t the General stop and fight?”

  I waved my hand at the other side of the river. “We are severely outnumbered Plunet. The best that we can hope is to get out of this alive.”

  I passed Black Bob whose men were falling back in good order. “Well done Major! That was sound work.”

  “Hopefully they will take the time to lick their wounds and give us opportunity to fall back.”

  When I reached the general he had finished interviewing the prisoner. “Well it seems that Bonaparte thinks we are beaten. He has gone back to Paris and left the pursuit to Soult and Ney. His lordship is bringing up the cavalry and they will deter the French. Well done, Matthews.” He chuckled. “It was all that I could do to stop young Stanhope here from joining you.”

  We did not stop all night as we headed to Nogales. It was a pitch black night. The terrain was treacherous. Great black chasms dropped precipitously on either side of the track and many an unwary and exhausted soldier fell to their deaths; unseen and unmourned during that long night march to safety. All the food had long gone and men were forced to suck on leather for some nourishment. Even worse, for the men I led, was the sight of many dead horses littering the side of the track. Some of them showed where starving infantrymen had hacked chunks from the still warm horse. I could not blame them but it was upsetting to my troopers.

  We were luckier than most. All of my men were mounted. We had brought with us the captured horses and were able to remount men. We had lost troopers; that was inevitable but none to desertion. Every man had fallen facing our enemies. The squadron could hold its head high. Cornet Williams had grown during the campaign. He was no longer the baby faced innocent. He had learned to lead and he had learned to kill. If he survived to return to England then he would be a good officer.

  When dawn broke we had outrun the enemy. The Earl of Uxbridge sent a message that the enemy had halted the night before. We stopped, exhausted, in Nogales for some rest. Men just fell to the floor and slept in the mud. They were all too weak to even search for food. Lieutenant-General Sir John Moore sent Stanhope to Corunna. “I want supplies laid in at Lugo.”

  “But sir, Lugo is still almost thirty miles away.” Colborne was his Military Secretary and he was like a scarecrow. He was not used to such privations.

  “And I am afraid, Mr Colborne, that we will have another thirty miles before we can eat.”

  It was the turn of my squadron to join the rearguard. From what I had heard the 15th had lost many men and horses. Soon they would cease to be an effective force of horse. As we trudged back along the road to the rearguard I saw the body of a young woman. She had frozen to death. I heard a noise. I dismounted and approached the woman. When I lifted her stiffening body I discovered a new born and mewling babe beneath. I grabbed my blanket and wrapped the baby in it. I looked around. This was not something I was familiar with.

  I heard a voice, “Here sir, I’ll take the bairn from you.” I saw a ragged woman, barefoot with bleeding feet. She had two skeletons trudging with her. They were obviously her children. I handed her the baby. She shook her head, “Poor Mary Martin. I told her to stay with me. Well she is with God now sir.” She made the sign of the cross.

  “Sharp!” Sergeant Sharp came over. “Give me your blanket.” I took the blanket and placed it around the woman’s shoulders. “What is your name?”

  “Annie Macgregor, my husband was in the 92nd.”

  “Was?”

  “He fell into one of those rivers. He is with God and I fear we shall join him soon enough.”

  I noticed that Sergeant Seymour and Sergeant Grant had put their blankets around the shoulders of the two children. If I had had food I would have given it to her. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a handful of silver coins. “There may be food in Nogales but if you can reach Lugo then I promise you that you will find food. I will find you Annie Macgregor. Do not give up hope. There are
ships awaiting us in Corunna. Baby Martin must survive to give some point to this slaughter and the loss of his parents.”

  She kissed my hand, “Thank you Major, I will not forget you.”

  “Now hurry for the French are close.”

  As we rode towards the French I determined that we would do all that we could to hold them up. Privates Martin and Macgregor had been wrong to bring their women from Lisbon but they had paid with their lives. If I could then I would see to it that the women and the children did not suffer the same fate.

  The Earl of Uxbridge was with his brother General Edward Paget. They were smoking cigars. “A stroke of luck Matthews! We shot a French officer and he had these about him. Good eh? Want one?”

  “No thank you sir. The General has ordered supplies to be at Lugo. We just need to hang on for another thirty miles or so.”

  “I am not certain that Soult and Ney will give us that time.” He shook his head, “Your squadron will have to do the job of a regiment, Major. We have lost heavily during the night.”

  “We will do our duty sir.”

  “I know you will. And I shall see you in Lugo, brother.”

  “Don’t worry about us Henry. We have this lucky charm now.” He pointed to me. “The chaps think he brings good fortune. He even rallied those stragglers.”

  As the Earl rode off I said. “The rank and file just want to fight, sir. Retreating without fighting does not sit well with them.”

  “I know but we have no choice now, do we?” He looked sadly at the butt of his cigar and threw it to hiss in the snow. “Well major, if you wait for the Frogs here we will head up the road and prepare to receive them.”

  “Right sir. We will buy you time.”

  The weary foot soldiers turned and marched up the road towards Nogales. They would, at least, have something to defend there. I had seen the last Horse Artillery battery being set up just outside the town. Sir Edward just needed time to place his men.

  “Captain Stafford, dismount half of your men and put them in the rocks to the left of the road. Percy, do the same on this side. Horse holders to the rear. The rest of you come with me.”

  I had twenty men with me. “Load your weapons. We will go and entice the French on.” We rode up the road. The pass was narrow and we filled it in two ranks. I noticed that I had Sergeant Seymour on one side and Sergeant Sharp on the other. We were in the middle. Our human barrier would not run. The sleet, rain and snow which were driving along the road made visibility poor. We would be almost invisible to the French because we were not moving. Men marching along a road tend to keep their heads down.

  I heard the French as they sang. I said quietly, “Prepare your weapons.”

  I was using my carbine. My new rifle was over my shoulder. One of the horses whinnied and I heard the shout of alarm from the French. I could not see them but I knew them to be there. “Open fire!”

  They were just eighty yards from us when we fired. We did not do much damage but I saw a standard fall and knew that would upset them. I drew my pistol and fired that. We had done enough. “Withdraw!”

  As we turned I noticed that Trooper Smith lay dead. Corporal Jones, the bugler, grabbed the reins of his mount. We could not afford to lose a single beast. We went back at a trot. Even that was too much for some of the horses which could barely walk let alone trot. When we passed the ambush we turned and dressed our ranks. “Reload.” That was easier said than done with fingers frozen and stiff.

  The French came on at a pace. This time they halted just fifty yards from us and formed three ranks. “Fire!” Our sixty guns barked before the order to fire could be given. I took a chance and yelled, in French, “Fall back! They have cannon!”

  It was a crude trick but it worked and the column disappeared back up the road leaving a huddle of bodies bleeding in the snow.

  “Jones, sound the recall.” With everyone remounted we trotted down the road. They would soon learn the error of their ways and follow us. That trick would not work a second time but it had bought General Paget precious time to get to Nogales which was ten miles or so away.

  We halted just a mile from the town. We had passed more stragglers who had fallen by the side. We made sure that they were dead; those that were not were put on our horses and taken with us. There were not many. The eight we had saved we urged to walk the last mile to safety. The brief rest on a horse had given them all a little energy. I hoped none were from the Light Brigade. It would not go well with them if they were. Black Bob had made his rules quite clear and there would be no exceptions.

  “Sir?”

  “Yes Sergeant Grant?”

  “We are down to ten balls each and the powder is running out.”

  “Sergeant Seymour. Take five men and see if any of the dead we have passed have either ball or powder.” We had become master scavengers.

  “Sir.”

  “And don’t get caught eh, Joe?”

  “No sir,” he said cheerfully.

  Despite the privations and the hardship the 11th seemed to be handling the retreat better than most other regiments. There was a bond between them. We had all dismounted to save our horses. I took another handful of the precious grain we had saved and fed it to Badger. Every trooper cared for his own mount in different ways. Perhaps that was why we still had horses when many of the cavalry went afoot. I spied something reddish in the trees. I wandered over and saw that it was one last, gnarled apple which had survived the wind and the stragglers. Perhaps it was because it was too high for weary men to reach. I struggled up the tree and grabbed it. It was still sound.

  “Here Badger, a little treat.” My horse munched happily on the little piece of treasure I had found. It was ridiculous but I felt much better for having done that. Badger and Sharp were almost like family. If I had had a child I would have done the same. It seemed unlikely that I would ever father a child. I never seemed to have either the opportunity or the time to meet any women.

  I wondered how Baby Martin was faring. I took heart from the fact that I had not seen any of the family on the road. They would have made Nogales and that meant they would be with the other women. They were a close knit bunch and the baby had more chance of survival amongst them. Of course the prospects for all of them were not good. Even if they made it back to England they would be destitute and forced to beg on the streets. Annie’s best chance was for another soldier to take her on. With three children and emaciated as she was I did not hold out much hope.

  Suddenly I heard shots and Sergeant Seymour and his scavengers galloped in. “Chasseurs sir!”

  “Mount and ready carbines.”

  I barely had time to draw a pistol before the first of the Chasseurs galloped down the road. They had seen the handful of troopers and thought they had easy victims. I pulled the trigger and drew a second pistol. Sheathing my first one I drew my sword. I kicked Badger on, “Go on Badger!”

  I swung the sword at the head of the first Chasseur whilst firing obliquely at a second. I was wreathed in smoke. I holstered my pistol. A blade sliced down out of the fog. I jerked back on Badger’s reins and his hooves came up as I blocked the blow. When he landed Badger caught the leg of the other horse and I heard an ugly crack as it broke and the horse and rider fell to the side.

  I heard recall and turned Badger to trot back. Captain Stafford looked worried. “You disappeared in the smoke sir! What happened?”

  “Nothing. We just halted them. Fall back to Nogales.”

  I just hoped that the defences were ready. We had slowed down the advance and we made the two cannon which marked the edge of the defences. I leaned down to speak to the battery commander. “Chasseurs coming down the road, Captain.”

  “Right sir. We have loaded with all the bits of metal we could find. That should make a mess of them.” He was making his cannon into crude shotgun.

  We were running out of everything. The next thirty miles were going to be trying for all of us. I reported to the Earl, Sir Edward Paget and Sir John Moo
re who were together poring over a map.. “The French are right behind us. They are using cavalry again.”

  “I have ordered the army to dig in at Lugo. We will use the supplies there. I have asked Admiral Hood to being up some ships to Corunna. I can only hope that they are there when we reach it.” He looked at the three of us. “I am leaving now to prepare the defences at Lugo. Hold them for as long as you can and then make your way back as quickly as you can. Your rearguard, Sir Edward, has performed magnificently and the cavalry has done all that we could ask of them.”

  When he had left the Earl said, “There is little point in risking the rifles, Edward. Have your men give one volley each and then head for Lugo. We have the two guns and the cavalry; if we can bloody their noses we might be able to escape.”

  “That is all we can do, brother.”

  The French advance guard had been reinforced by some Dragoons and they boldly rode down the road. I think they expected little opposition having cleared us from the road. The Captain had disguised his guns and the Light Brigade was sheltering behind walls and in buildings. Sir Edward timed it to perfection. “Fire!”

  The improvised grapeshot cleared the road and horses and men fell in heaps. The rifles and muskets scythed though the survivors.

  “Cease fire.”

  When the smoke had cleared we could see only the dead and the dying. Without calls Sir Edward led the Light Brigade at double time down the road. The Captain reloaded his guns and Sergeant Seymour and his scavengers searched the bodies. They also managed to capture one horse. The rider had been cut in two but his horse had survived. We all had more ball and powder. The troopers were more cheerful with loaded weapons in their hands. Trooper Cole had also managed to find a whole cheese and some stale bread in one of the saddlebags of a dead horse. His section shared it between them. He offered some to Percy and me. “No thank you, Trooper Cole. To the victor go the spoils.”