An Act of Courage by Allan Mallinson

Author:Allan Mallinson [Mallinson, Allan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction
ISBN: 9780593053409
Amazon: B003ELY7RE
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 2004-12-31T11:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE NIGHT HORSE

Talavera, late evening, 27 July 1809

‘Stand down one in three, off-saddle and feed by half-sections.’

Sir Edward Lankester, pleased with what he saw at evening stand-to-arms after their fighting withdrawal, and that Lord George Irvine had seen likewise, patted his handsome sorrel on the neck as the squadron officers closed to him. Drawn up to the west of the dry riverbed of the Portiña, beyond a screening line of olive trees, willow and cork oak, they might be in a different world from the infantry’s. Here they could rest, unobserved by the enemy, his guns unsighted. The other side of the trees, the domain of the redcoat, there could be no such ease; not, at least, until darkness, and even then the regiments would have to picket strongly, for the French might think the day had been theirs, and victory only a night attack away.

‘A memorable day, I think, gentlemen. But it will be the more so tomorrow, I’ll warrant. For tonight, we shall stand down the remainder after dark, and I would that the men get a good sleep. The regiment is to send additional gallopers to each of the divisions, our squadron one each to Hill’s and Campbell’s. Hervey to the former, if you please.’ He paused, looking at him, as if to ask if he felt up to the exertion.

Hervey nodded.

‘Bruce to the latter. Are there any questions?’

There were none.

‘Very well, gentlemen, to your duties.’

Hervey was disappointed. Had he been assigned to Campbell’s division he might have seen Ayling – and perhaps a little action, since the division stood beyond the Portiña still, in the centre of the allied position. They would be Wellesley’s ears for the night, Sir Edward explained. But Hervey had no idea where was ‘Daddy’ Hill’s division – only, as Sir Edward said, ‘up there’, on the Cerro de Medellin, the ridge that ran east–west in the middle of the position: just about the quietest place to be in the entire allied line, he reckoned.

‘Loyalist, please, Sykes,’ he told his groom. Loyalist may not pass the riding master’s inspection as a charger ‘fully trained’, but Jessye had earned her night’s rest after the day’s exertions.

A cannonade like thunder startled the Second Division’s staff, not least the general himself. ‘Great heavens, gentlemen! What can be their purpose at this time of day? I’m surprised they see anything; there’ll be no light at all in another hour.’

Hervey, just come, looked at his watch. By his reckoning there were another two hours of daylight yet, but he hardly thought it the thing to correct the divisional commander; at least, not in front of his staff. He had only just shaken hands with him.

The general’s hand was a surprise. But, then, as Hervey knew, the commander of the Second Division was no ordinary man. Major-General Rowland Hill was not yet forty, but he had the appearance and manner of one considerably older. Hervey could see why he was called ‘Daddy’, even without his reputation for the care of his men.

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