Blood and Famine (Man of Conflict Series, Book 4)

by Andrew Wareham

  Dudley nodded; he would do what was right and to hell with the fuss it might cause.

  “The sergeant, Sir Septimus, should I make him directly to lieutenant?”

  “There is a need for officers, sir. Take Major Howton’s advice, would be my answer. What of the bill among the ranks, sir? Were many lost?”

  “Far fewer casualties than you took, Sir Septimus. They fell into cover, mostly, for lack of orders to do more. One can hardly blame them. But they are so short of officers now that I know not what to do.”

  “Major Howton will know his people, sir. He will be able to make some captains from his lieutenants and will bring on those ensigns who are worthy. I have two lieutenants who could take brevets at need and I have no doubt the Wiltshires will be able to find ensigns and lieutenants who could rise in the world. There will be sergeants who will be worthy of a change of hat as well, sir. Ranker officers may be transferred to the Portuguese forces eventually, if the need arises, sir; many of them will do very well in their new places. The New Foresters will be as fit to stand in the line as any before the month is out, sir. For a week or two, they must march towards the centre of our little column, my people and the Wiltshires alternating at the front and rear. Was they to be sent back, sir, then it would be a slur upon their honour they would be a generation to recover from.”

  “That is important, is it not, Sir Septimus.”

  “It would be to give a victory to the Frogs, sir, to say that they had so mauled a battalion that it could no more stand against them.”

  The brigadier was sufficiently astute to see the other side of that coin – a victory for the French translated as a defeat for him.

  “Good advice, Sir Septimus! We must hold here to reorganise for a day or two and then push forward again. I suspect that I must give the Wiltshires the lead, the opportunity to distinguish themselves…”

  “They were unblooded today, were they not, sir? Through no fault of their own. The rear had to be covered, but they must be given their chance, sir. It is important to be seen to be fair.”

  Man of Conflict Series

  BOOK FOUR

  Chapter Eight

  The Wiltshires did not get their chance that week. A galloper arrived from headquarters and ordered the brigade to halt where they were; the ford was a fortuitous location, it seemed. They were too far distant from the main body of the army, risked being cut off and destroyed far from a chance of relief.

  The young lieutenant, a gilded youth of good family, attached to Wellington’s personal staff as a means of securing both his career and his kin’s political influence, was bright enough to notice the graveyard and surgeons’ tents and draw the correct conclusions.

  “A strong force holding the river, sir?”

  “Well set up in the trees, lieutenant. You would oblige me, sir, if you would carry my reports to His Lordship. The New Foresters, leading the crossing, lost many of their officers and the day was saved by the resolute action of the Hampshires.”

  Brigadier Dudley was inexperienced in the field perhaps, but he had been in the Army long enough to know that the astute officer praised his general’s favourites.

  “Sir Septimus Pearce is their colonel, is he not, sir? I have heard his name mentioned as a gentleman to call upon if things are going ill.”

  The word would be passed, Dudley knew. It might be said that Sir Septimus had saved his bacon for him, but it would also be noticed that he had made good use of his best battalion. On balance the opinion would probably be that the brigade had come out best in a sharp little action, and that could only do him good.

  “What’s the verbal, lieutenant?”

  “Expect to remain here for a week at least, sir. The French are falling back reluctantly and are showing signs of holding. There may be a prolonged period of countermarching before a decisive battle. His Lordship will wish to select his position and the Frogs seem to be under pressure to keep the bulk of the land they have conquered. There is a suspicion that they may be willing to give ground in Portugal but will not surrender Spain.”

  “Is there any indication of the forces facing the brigade?”

  “None at all, sir! For all that is known, you may have the whole French army sat on the other side of the next hill!”

  The lieutenant seemed mighty cheerful about that possibility, but he expected to be in the Castle that night and drinking in his mess at headquarters by the end of the week.

  “We must make ourselves at home here for a week or more, gentlemen. The word is that we have advanced as far as is wise, the army as a whole moving more slowly. We have space on the open turfland along the banks of the river to set out our lines, I believe, using both sides of the water, that is.”

  Major Howton and Septimus protested simultaneously.

  “One side or the other, sir. Not divided by a river,” was Howton’s cry.

  “In the woodland and well-protected behind barricades, sir,” Septimus called.

  “I would rather like some defensive works,” Colonel Watson added, in far quieter tones.

  “But I do not know that we have the wherewithal, gentlemen! How are we to fell trees?”

  “Axes, sir. In our baggage,” said the pair of old colleagues with shared satisfaction.

  “We have shovels sufficient for a trench line across from river to trees, sir,” Colonel Watson added.

  “But, is it regulation, gentlemen, that you should be so equipped?”

  Septimus gave his opinion of such regulations and those who made them and exactly where they could put them.

  “Oh! Well, if you feel so strongly on the issue, gentlemen, then you must go ahead. On this side of the river only.”

  They quickly agreed that the valley was too wide to set a defence line from river to hillside; it would be a distance of nearly two miles, far too much for fewer than two thousand men to hold.

  Septimus stated the solution, in terms that could not be disputed.

  “Emplace the guns to cover the river banks, where they have good visibility. Each company of the New Foresters and Hampshires to cut trees for its own redoubt, offset so that any one is in sight left and right, forward and back, supporting each other, tucked away in the woodland. Brigadier to have his headquarters on the open grassland, available easily to us all. Wiltshires to dig a ditch and a turf wall for themselves and brigade and the surgeons?”

  Colonel Watson was happy to fall in with their plans; he gave the impression that he would have agreed to any scheme that saved him the effort of having to conjure up ideas himself.

  They were busy for two days. Tree trunks no more than a foot thick – the effort to cut anything bigger was too great – were stacked one on top of another, tied into the woodland, their crowns cut off and thrown in between the remaining trees to their front. The branches were trimmed off and roughly tied and propped to form huts for the men; scavengers went out to gather gorse or bracken or its local equivalent to lay on top, providing rain proofing and camouflage both. Careful use of the tent canvas gave protection from wind as well and made a comfortable base for their week.

  “Rather a lot of effort for just a few days, Sir Septimus.”

  Brigadier Dudley was surprised by the men’s enthusiasm, could not imagine why they had worked so hard.

  “Old campaigners, sir! They do not believe a word of the ‘one week’s delay’. They will expect to be here for half of the summer. Add to that, sir, they are mostly countrymen and enjoy using the old skills of the farm and village. They will be out in their off-duty hours now, setting snares and using slingshots to pick up rabbits and whatever game birds they can spot and they will eat well this week.”

  “Poaching, Sir Septimus? We cannot allow that, sir!”

  Brigadier Dudley was a country gentleman by background; preservation of game was far more important to him than filling hungry bellies.

  “Different country, different laws, sir! I do not believe that the Portuguese regard poaching in the same light as we do. We ha
ve seen that every village has its hunters carrying rifled muskets and used to walking their hills quite freely.”

  “Even so, Sir Septimus – this is the sort of thing that can give soldiers a bad name, you know.”

  “The French have slaughtered any local people who might have given them that name, sir. I think we have little to fear of local opinion.”

  They organised themselves in their first few days; corporals were made up to sergeants and identified their replacements, far the most important first necessity. A platoon could operate for weeks without the presence of a captain or lieutenant, but without their non-commissioned officers they would almost instantly break down into a disorganised mob, as had happened to the New Foresters in their failed advance across the ford.

  Matters were delayed a little each day by the need for burial parties as the wounded slowly succumbed to sepsis, though a few recovered sufficiently to be sent back on the tracks to Lisbon or return to light duty. Colonel Walters was a given a burial plot of his own at the head of their little cemetery, with a wooden cross carved with his name; it would fall within a year or two and the whole graveyard would become overgrown and lost, but it showed willing in the first instance, offered the respect that was proper. The French had been put into a single large pit, distant from the British, the argument being made that they were probably Papist so would prefer to rest separate; no effort was made to place a memorial for them.

  “It occurs to me, sir, that we do not know the country at all. There might be a set of roads converging just a mile or two away, busy with French traffic; or we might be, as it were, in a desert, all alone. Do you think, sir, that our orders will permit us to send out patrols, purely of the immediate area?”

  Brigadier Dudley was not wholly stupid; he had been exposed to the realities of life in the field now and he had learned a little. He listened to Septimus and thought very carefully before making his reply.

  “We must not be ignorant of our surroundings, that I can only agree upon, Sir Septimus. How far do you propose to patrol, and in what strength?”

  “Half companies, under their lieutenant, sir. Initial patrols from dawn to dusk, strictly. They are not to be out overnight, sir.”

  “That is acceptable, Sir Septimus. Do you propose to limit these patrols to your battalion only?”

  “The New Foresters are far too busy in their reorganisation, sir. A week will be barely sufficient for their new officers to get to know their people. Every lieutenant must be able to put a name to all of the faces in front of him and the captain must at minimum be at home with all of his sergeants and corporals. The men must be used to the habits of their new leaders and, importantly, adjust to the new standing orders that Major Howton will have instituted.”

  “Will he change much that Colonel Walters had in place, do you think, Sir Septimus?”

  “A great deal of their routine, I doubt not, sir. There will be fewer parades and the leather stock will disappear from sight. The men will continue to dress within reason smart, but there will be far less of nit-picking, sir. I will wager as well that there will be much less of the bayonet and far more of practice at volley firing. Major Howton has experience over a quarter of a century, sir, and he is a man of very definite opinions on how best to win any battle. I believe that I have mentioned that he was my mentor? He taught me the value of the volley.”

  “Colonel Walters did not do so well with his cold steel in the end, one must admit, Sir Septimus.”

  “True as far as it goes, sir, but one must say that taken by surprise by an intelligent enemy, he stood very little chance whatever his policy might have been. Once his officers were picked off, then he had very little prospect of success.”

  “What of the Wiltshires?”

  “I would be happier, sir, if we knew more of the terrain between here and the main body of the army…”

  “Highly sensible, Sir Septimus. You have some doubts about the Wiltshires, it would seem?”

  “Very few, sir. If they were to be placed in line on the battlefield then I would have every expectation of seeing them hold with the best. In defence, I would have no worries of them. Patrolling through unknown territory, however, demands more than anything else, experience – and that they do not have yet. They will learn – Colonel Watson says very little, but his eyes are wide-open and he has read his texts. Have you observed his wall and ditch, sir?”

  Brigadier Dudley looked across from his headquarters tent.

  “It is not straight, Sir Septimus.”

  “Two small redans, sir, each able to hold a half company as a strongpoint and to offer support right and left. Attacking that little wall will be an expensive business, sir, even though it be no more than turfs and shoulder-high. I would not touch it without artillery to hand. No surprise escalades there, sir!”

  “Good. That says much of him. Returning to your patrols, what have you planned for them, Sir Septimus?”

  Septimus pointed up the river valley to what appeared to be higher hills four or five miles distant.

  “They may be more heavily wooded and it is not impossible, I would imagine, that the river has cut a deeper valley, a gorge, that gives the illusion of height. I would like to put an officer with a telescope on top of those hills as a first step. The trouble is, sir, that we are just so very ignorant of the country! Are there hills for fifty miles? Is there a great fertile plain full of farms? Is the land forested? Or is there a high grassy plain like the Downs in Hampshire? Are there towns, or a few mere hamlets? I would much like to have some slight idea of what faces us!”

  “Well expressed, Sir Septimus! It occurs to me to ask just which of your officers is to be entrusted with this particular task.”

  “Me, sir.”

  “You know, I suspected that to be the case, Sir Septimus. Regrettably, you are probably right to nominate yourself. The task is important and requires the advantages of the experienced eye. One patrol, sir, to those hills and them alone! Your word on that, if you please, Sir Septimus!”

  “I will be good, sir. I shall lead a single patrol and shall advance no further than those hills, the first of them, at that. And I shall not be side-tracked on my return to examine other interesting sights, sir. But I need to see what is on the other side of that skyline, sir!”

  “You do too, sir. Have you a man who is a hand with a pencil, who may draw a simple sketch for me?”

  “There will be some such in the ranks, sir. I have very few criminals among my men, for refusing gaol deliveries, but I shall be surprised if we do not discover a forger or two among three battalions.”

  Four men were unearthed in a day’s enquiry who would admit to being at home with a drawing board. One had been apprenticed to a silversmith and had been in the habit of drawing up the plans for engraving of plate; a second had simply enjoyed drawing birds; two implied that they had experience of copying the elegant designs to be found decorating printed Bills of various sorts. All four were sure they could rough up a map of a landscape, looking at it from a hill top.

  Apprentices were often to be found in the ranks, run away through boredom or from too close an acquaintance with the master’s womenfolk. Youngsters with a little of education could occasionally be discovered as well, sometimes joined up for the excitement, more commonly volunteered after a night out with their pals and too much beer incautiously taken, waking up with the King’s Shilling in their hands and a sergeant swearing before a magistrate that they had signed on willingly. Septimus took the pair, sending the two forgers back to the Wiltshires. The older criminals struck him as men who might well have desertion in mind; get them distant from the bulk of their battalion and they could easily be gone, over the hills and far away from King George’s men.

  “Major Perceval, I am to take out a half-company on a patrol to those high hills in the morning. I want as well three more patrols from your people, to go out and be back inside one day, examining the local valleys and hillsides. I want to know of every track, every stream, ev
ery pass between the hills within five miles of us. It goes without saying, of course, that the location of villages, cultivated fields or flocks or herds will also be reported.”

  “Yes, sir, tomorrow, sir. It will be very good for the men, they need the exercise. It would be as well, perhaps, sir, to send them all out in turn over the week. We will be able to do a more thorough job, sir.”

  Perceval was wholly unsurprised; he sounded as if he had known of the task in advance and had thought the matter through already. His next comment confirmed Septimus’ surmise.

  “I would prefer you to take a full company, sir. Captain Collins’ company springs to mind, sir. I have a respect for the young man and would wish you to take a closer look at him in the field, sir.”

  Such a request could not reasonably be refused; it was rather clever of Perceval to make it in that fashion, the bringing on of a promising officer, achieving his aim of providing what he regarded as an adequate escort for Septimus.

  “Of course. Immediately after stand-to and breakfast. The hills seem to be no more than five miles distant, but one never knows just how straight a line one can take. I wish to see what is on the other side of the nearest high ground, just in case. The detachment that held us up at the ford had to belong to some larger unit – a brigade, even a division – and it will be as well to discover whether they are close to hand.”

  “No fire smokes in sight, sir. I do not believe there is any significant force in the immediate area.”

  Again, a very sensible comment. Either Perceval had begun to use the small amount of brain he possessed, or, far more likely, one of his captains was acting as adviser, probably quietly making sensible comments in his ear, more or less in passing. A very good thing for the battalion, whichever the case was.

  “Captain Collins’ company means that I must accept the presence of Megrim Meek for the day, does it not. Is he showing signs of improvement, Major Perceval?”

  “Since the blisters on his feet healed he has shown more willing in his duty, sir. He is still inclined to heave great, romantic sighs, however, the more because we have received no mail from home for an unconscionable time, sir.”