by Griff Hosker
It seemed a mad idea but then again the alternative was prison. “Right lads, you heard the officer grab a rope and start walking.”
I heard one of the men say, “I can’t swim!”
One of the sailors laughed and said, “You don’t have to swim son. Just hang on to a rope and kick your legs.”
The salt in the water burned my wound but I knew it would also clean the wound and stop any infection. The men who were rowing strained as we began to float and kick our legs. Being the biggest I was the last to do so. Our progress seemed pathetically slow. I found I could only kick one leg. The water kicked up by Sharp was filling my mouth. I turned on to my back, still continuing to try to kick. I saw the gunners unlimbering the cannon. It would not be long now. As I rolled on to my front I saw that the sloop was closer now. Jonathan was preparing to sail. The sailors were swarming up the rigging ready to loose the sails. All of the other longboats, jolly boats and skiffs were secured and there was just us to go.
Suddenly I heard a boom as the twelve pound cannon fired. The ball whistled overhead and travelled directly for the sloop. I heard the women on board screaming. I waited for the crack which would signify that it had struck the small ship but, miraculously, the ball passed between the two masts. I heard the young lieutenant shout, “Come on you fellows row a little harder. The next one will take out the ship.”
Then I saw the civilians in the little boat begin to move, “Shift over sailors we can give a hand.”
As the extra arms pulled the boat began to move a little faster and I saw that we were less than fifty yards from the stern. That would be fifty yards too far for I was certain that they would fire again soon and the sloop was a static target. Then I saw the stern move so that the target became smaller. Jonathan had turned the sloop to present the smallest target possible. The commander was taking a risk as any hit would take out the rudder and leave the ‘Black Prince’ helpless.
The trick worked and I saw the cannonball skip along the side of the sloop and out to sea. A rope snaked out from the stern and fell just twenty yards from us. I wondered if the next shot would hit us. Suddenly I head a sound like thunder as dozens of balls flew across the waves- they screamed towards the beach.
The young lieutenant whooped in a most wild manner, “It is the transports and a frigate!”
I rolled on to my back and saw the wrecked gun and dead bodies on the beach. That one broadside had saved our lives.
We were pulled next to the sloop while the other boats began to row towards the large transport lying half a mile off the ‘Black Prince’s’ bows. More ropes were thrown down and the men were hauled one by one to the deck of the ship. I had been the furthest away and I was last to be hauled on board.
One of the civilians said, “I won’t forget you Captain Matthews. You showed bravery and courage today which makes me believe that we will defeat Bonaparte.”
I was too exhausted to do more than nod. As I tumbled over the side the civilians all cheered me. The young lady I had rescued planted a kiss on my cheek.”A true British hero!”
I smiled but inside I was picturing her killing the commandant. Clearly she was not a woman to be crossed. “You are welcome.”
As I tried to walk my injured leg gave way and the tourniquet snapped. Blood began to pour from my wound. The young woman ripped the end of her petticoat along its length and began to bandage the wound. “Move back and give him some air!” She was a forceful young woman. The man who married her would have his hands full.
The deck was so crowded that it was hard to see where the passengers could go. The two sergeants solved the problem by picking me up, “Thank you miss. We’ll take him below.”
My arm was patted by all as they carried me through their ranks. I heard, “God bless you!” and “We will never forget you” coming from all around me. When we entered Lieutenant Commander Teer’s quarters it seemed strangely quiet. The two men gently laid me on the bed.
“I’ll get something to bind it with. Joe, see if you can get some rum from the bosun. It will clean the wound.”
I thought it almost poetical that it was Sergeant Sharp now ministering to me as I had ministered to him not so long ago. He must have had the same thought. He returned from the chest he had rummaged through with a cloth. “I will have to see if I can do as good a job on you sir.”
“Don’t worry about that Sharp. I am just glad to be alive.”
When Seymour returned it was with a mug of rum and a small wizened man. “The commander sent Harry here, he’s the ship’s sail maker and he sews up the men when they need it.”
He smiled a toothless smile, “Aye sir and when they goes to Davy Jones I’m the one as sews ‘em in their shroud with a last stitch through the nose.” He chuckled, “Don’t you worry sir, I’ll use my smallest needle and the tiniest stitches. Why it will be neat enough to grace a tapestry.” He nodded to Sergeant Seymour, “Give him a mouthful and then pour some on the needle. When your mate there takes off that bandage then pour the rest of it over the wound.”
His authority spoke of confidence and skill. I swallowed the raw rum and lay back. “That’s right sir, you relax. You’ll just feel a couple of pricks.” He laughed again, “And I don’t mean these two sergeants either.”
They both laughed and Joseph said, “Cheeky bugger!”
I closed my eyes and tried to relax. The rum burned a little but it worked for it numbed the pain and I genuinely felt nothing. I knew he was stitching but I felt little pain. After a while he said, “There you are sir. I didn’t bother signing it but I can do.”
“That is all right Harry, and thank you.”
For the first time he became serious. “I think what you and the lads did was heroic sir. We showed these Frogs that they can’t make war on our civilians. We are going to beat them. Mark my words.”
After he had left I noticed the motion of the ship. “Are we under way then?”
Sharp looked out of the transom window. “It looks like it sir. I can see France getting smaller.”
“Good. Check on the men. Make sure they are all safe.”
Sergeant Sharp shook his head, “Let Captain Austen earn some pay eh sir? The lads are fine. Joe, here, will go and tell them you are all repaired.”
When we were alone he shook his head. “We had no idea you had stayed behind sir. We thought you were running with us. Captain Austen played war with us for leaving you.”
“Don’t worry about it, Alan. It was my own fault and we came out of it well enough.”
The door opened and Percy and the commander entered. Percy nodded at the commander, “I was just telling Jonathan here that you always cut things a little too fine for my liking.”
“Actually Robbie I should apologise on behalf of the navy. There was no reason why they should have been late. Of course as a lowly Lieutenant Commander I cannot question our lords and masters but someone ought to. There were some really important people on board.”
I nodded, “I know, one of them in the boat told me he would see that the event was mentioned back at home. Any idea who he is?”
“I think he is a brother of Spenser Perceval. He is an important politician. Some say he will be the next Prime Minister.”
“Their rank doesn’t concern me.”
“And I see you had the lively young lady falling all over you.”
“She was just a child. But she was interesting. Did you see her when she killed the commandant, Jonathan?”
“I did but I was too far away to stop it. He deserved to die but I didn’t like the idea of Miss DeVere having that on her conscience.” The sailor must have seen our expressions for he stared back at us. “You know her?”
“We served with her brothers. They both left the regiment under something of a cloud.”
“Well I’ll be blowed, small world eh? Anyway you’ll be pleased to know that, as we have offloaded the passengers we can sail back to Herne Bay at a decent speed and not the ponderous pace of a transport. Your men
have changed into their uniforms.” He pointed to a chest. “Your clothes are in there.”
When we had both changed we went on deck. The coast of Kent was a welcome sight. We went to the rail and leaned over. I turned to speak with Percy. “A bit of a coincidence about the DeVere girl. Do you think it is the sister of the DeVeres?”
“It would make sense, Percy. All those people we rescued have money and she must be related in some shape or form. It is the name of a powerful family as we know. Her behaviour would lead me to believe that she must be their sister. It will be interesting if she is. I can’t see either of them being very happy about what happened.”
“Well they aren’t our problem anymore, Robbie, they are in a different regiment.”
“It is a small army, we will run into them again, of that I am certain.”
Epilogue
It was some weeks before I was walking correctly again. Those weeks, however, had passed in a blur. Percy and I were whisked up to London where Colonel Selkirk was beside himself. “You two have surpassed yourselves.”
“Sir, there were more than just us two. Commander Teer and all our men. Without them we could have done nothing.”
“Yes, yes,” he waved the argument away impatiently with his hand. “I dare say they will get their reward but you, Robbie, are the talk of London. The story of a brave officer facing a regiment of cavalry on the beach and defending British women. Why the papers are filled with the story.”
“Sir, it was a few horsemen, hardly a regiment.”
“Modest as ever.” He wagged an admonishing finger at me. “It will be your downfall. Anyway the upshot is that the Cabinet is keen for us to come up with more ideas such as this. It is wonderful for morale. We are standing alone against Bonaparte this time but you fellows showed what can be done.”
Percy shrugged as I gave him an exasperated look.
“Now we have to go to Westminster. The politicians whose families you rescued wish to thank you both.” He saw my mouth ready to argue with him. “And there will be something for each of the men who went with you. And Commander Teer will be happy enough. He now has a frigate.”
As we rode in a carriage towards the Palace of Westminster I reflected that they did not know Commander Teer. He would still yearn for the freedom of the ‘Black Prince’ but like me, his destiny was not in his own hands.
It was all very formal at the presentation, as one would expect. There was even a member of the Royal Family on hand. We were presented with engraved swords which expressed the gratitude of a nation. They had some gold on them and were far too fine to ever see combat. Still they made a fine memento. For the men who went with us there was a specially minted medal and, probably more importantly, ten guineas for each of them. That would go down well, of that I had no doubt.
After the ceremony Percy and I begged permission to return to our regiment. That was seen as a further example of our heroism. They all nodded approvingly. It was seen as the call of duty from brave officers. The truth was I preferred the company of my men to that of politicians.
As we stood, looking at Westminster Abbey and waiting for our carriage we saw, coming into the building, Charles DeVere and a man we later learned was his influential uncle. This was the first time we had seen him since his departure. I wondered if he had mellowed.
He stepped close to us and spoke so that only we two could hear him, “If you think that rescuing my sister made you acceptable in my eyes then you are wrong. The fact that you did not skewer her attacker when you saw what he was doing makes you just as culpable as he in my eyes. You will pay! And if any word of my sister’s ordeal gets out then I hold you two responsible for that too.”
With that he stormed off. The older man tipped his hat and said, unaware of what his nephew had spoken, “Thank you Captain Matthews. I am indebted to you for saving my niece. If I can ever be of service then let me know.”
When we were in the carriage Percy put it into words, “Charles is unhinged. Thank God he is in a different regiment.”
I remained silent. I had the feeling that our dealings with the DeVere family were not over. I closed my eyes. I could do little about his animosity. I knew I had done nothing wrong. I would just have to continue to do the best I could. I was still a Captain of the 11th Light Dragoons and for the first time in a long time, I felt at home. I had returned to France and witnessed the world of Bonaparte. I was now resigned to fighting the man I had once served. I could never go back to being a French soldier; I was now committed to the British army and my new regiment of British Light Dragoons.
The End
Glossary
Fictional characters are in italics
Trooper Alan Sharp- Robbie’s servant
Captain Robbie (Macgregor) Matthews-illegitimate son of the Count of Breteuil
Colonel James Selkirk- War department
Colpack-fur hat worn by the guards and elite companies
Crack- from the Irish ‘craich’, good fun, enjoyable
Joe Seymour- Corporal and then Sergeant 11th Light Dragoons
Lieutenant Jonathan Teer- Commander of the Black Prince
musketoon- Cavalry musket
pichet- a small jug for wine in France
Pierre Boucher-Trooper/Brigadier 17th Chasseurs
Pompey- naval slang for Portsmouth
Paget Carbine- Light Cavalry weapon
Rooking- cheating a customer
Snotty- naval slang for a raw lieutenant
Tarleton Helmet- Headgear worn by Light cavalry until 1812
Maps
Maps courtesy of Wikipedia (William Robert Shepherd) This image (or other media file) is in the public domain because its copyright has expired. This applies to Australia, the European Union and those countries with a copyright term of life of the author plus 70 years.
Historical note
The 11th Light Dragoons were a real regiment. However I have used them in a fictitious manner. They act and fight as real Light Dragoons. The battles in which they fight were real battles with real Light Dragoons present- just not the 11th.
The books I used for reference were:
Napoleon’s Line Chasseurs- Bukhari/Macbride
The Napoleonic Source Book- Philip Haythornthwaite,
The History of the Napoleonic Wars-Richard Holmes,
The Greenhill Napoleonic Wars Data book- Digby Smith,
The Napoleonic Wars Vol 1 & 2- Liliane and Fred Funcken
The Napoleonic Wars- Michael Glover
Wellington’s Regiments- Ian Fletcher.
Wellington’s Light Cavalry- Bryan Fosten
Wellington’s Heavy Cavalry- Bryan Fosten
A British force was sent to Swedish Pomerania in 1803 and in that year French troops overran Hanover. Many Hanoverians fled to England where they formed the King’s German Legion. The KGL was the only force of Germans to oppose the French for the entire war. My use of the 11th is pure fiction.
Sophie Blanchard was consulted by Napoleon and there were plans to transport soldiers across the channel. My use of that element is pure fiction. Napoleon did begin a tunnel and you can still visit the workings. They are at Cape Gris Nez.
Although the French attack on Whitstable is fiction there are examples of French landings on the coast of England and Ireland during this time. The Royal Navy had such a tight stranglehold on the French ports that major invasion was unlikely however they did land troops. In 1804 Bonaparte was still thinking of invading and Nelson had not defeated the French at Trafalgar. I used this attack in the same way that Mountbatten used his attack on Dieppe in WW2 as a means of discovering problems with an amphibious landing.
The incident with the civilians is an interesting one. When the British declared war on France, there were some 3,000 civilians enjoying a visit to France. They were held by the army. Some of them were only repatriated in 1814. Others were repatriated earlier. I have created the scenario of a rescue by Captain Matthews. Others were obviously exchanged.
The buying and selling of commissions was, unless there was a war, the only way to gain promotion. It explains the quotation that ‘the Battle of Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton’. The officers all came from a moneyed background. The expression cashiered meant that an officer had had to sell his commission. The promoted sergeants were rare and had to have to done something which in modern times would have resulted in a Victoria Cross or a grave!
Captain Matthews will continue to fight Napoleon and to serve Colonel Selkirk. The Napoleonic wars have barely begun and will only end on a ridge in Belgium in 1815. Robbie will be back to the same place he fought his first battles as a young trooper.
Griff Hosker February 2014
Other books
by
Griff Hosker
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Ancient History
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Ulpius Felix- Roman Warrior (prequel)
Book 1 The Sword of Cartimandua
Book 2 The Horse Warriors
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Book 4 Roman Retreat
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Book 7 Trajan’s Hunters
Book 8 The Last Frontier
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Book 12 Roman Wall
The Wolf Warrior series (Britain in the late 6th Century)
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Book 4 Saxon Blood
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