Date: Thu, 2 Feb 2017 13:32:03 +1300
From: arthur carkeek <artcart65@gmail.com>
Subject: drummer boy chapter 7

DRUMMER BOY
CHAPTER 7
BOOK 2
THE ROAD NORTH
BY ARTHUR

CONTACT AUTHOR:
artcart65@gmail.com


5th February 1812

Percy pulled his cloak a little tighter as he made his way through the cold
and damp streets of London. He was now close to his final destination and
was thankful he would soon be out of the miserable weather that was the
norm for this time of year in England.

It may have been early spring in Portugal and Spain but here at home it was
still like the middle of winter and his bones were feeling it. Only the
memory of the warmth of the Peninsular and knowing he would soon be
returning gave him hope that he would not have to spend too much time on
his business.

Percy made it to the Oak doors of the Carrington Gentlemen's Club and
walked into the warm foyer; waiting behind the long wooden desk of the
reception was the familiar face of Sterling, it was almost like coming
home.

"Good evening Colonel, it's good to see you back once again."

"Thank you Sterling. Did you get my message about the room?"

"Yes Colonel, everything has been made ready for your stay. Would you like
a small drink before dining, there is no one in the salon and you will have
some peace and quiet before any of the other members arrive."

"Yes thank you Sterling, have my bags arrived?"

"Yes Colonel, they are in your rooms and the valet is unpacking for you as
we speak."

"Fine then if you would be so kind as to take my cloak for me I will go and
find that Brandy you spoke of."

"Yes Sir. I shall inform the steward that you are here if you would like to
make your way to the salon."

"Thank you again Sterling, it's good to be home again and to let the world
go by outside."

"That it is Colonel, now if you will excuse me I will go and find that
steward."

Percy nodded and, after removing his damp cloak made for the salon where
one could smoke a cigar and have a small drink or two in peace. Percy had
been sitting alone and sipping his second Brandy when he heard a number of
members enter the club. Percy took little notice of the chatter and
laughter as the members in the foyer divested themselves of their cloaks in
readiness for an evening at the club.

Percy sat in the deep leather chair gazing at the fire as his thoughts
turned to the business he needed to take care of. He ignored the voices in
the foyer as his mind rushed from one point to another. Percy was suddenly
woken from his thinking by the sound of a strong voice speaking his name.

"Percy, Percy Cruikshank; well I never. How long has it been?"

Percy turned to the vaguely familiar voice and then stood up as he
recognised the man standing in the doorway.

"Lord Belmont! Well My Lord it must be all of twenty years at least. May I
offer you a Brandy that is unless you are already committed to your
friends?"

"Nonsense Percy old man, they will go ahead and I can join them later; they
will only be talking politics and you know how I feel about that subject."

Lord Belmont joined Percy in the salon and waited for the smaller man to
pour him a good sized Brandy before loosening his cravat and settling into
a chair facing Percy.

"So old man what have you been up to?"

"Oh you know me My Lord, a little of this and a little of that."

"Well the first thing you can do old man is to drop the title. We didn't
share rooms at Cambridge for three years that we now have to get all
carried away with titles."

"Thanks Sebastian, it's been a while and I did hear you had taken over the
title. Now then what have you been up to?"

"Not a lot Percy, you know how it is in the House. Damn it all if the Pater
had not fallen from his horse on that damn hunt I could be out in the
Peninsular earning my way."

"I'm sure you more than earn your way in the House Sebastian."

"That's tommy rot and you know it Percy. Damn it man I wanted to make my
own way just as you did but no, the old goat had to chase just one more
bloody fox. I don't know how many times we told him to stop hunting."

"Your Father was a stubborn man Sebastian but it was his pleasure so you
can't really blame him. When a man gets to his age there is little left to
bring a smile to your face."

"HA, and how would you know that my old friend. There is barely two months
between us so you surely are not that old."

"There are times I feel fifty years older than I am Sebastian."

"Is that the sound of defeat I hear in your voice? Perhaps I have been
mistaken and you are only pretending to be Percy Cruikshank. The Percy I
knew was full of spit and vinegar. Think back old son to that day you stood
up to Winthrop and his little gang of wastrels; by the Gods old son I have
never seen the likes of that day, especially after all you went through in
the first two years at school."

"That's true Sebastian but I was younger and not at all wise then."

"Well you certainly upset a few of the boys when you turned up. What
happened to that savage that looked after you? George, wasn't it?"

"Oh George is still around, I do admit he made for good company and the
looks he garnered from some of the toffs was rather amusing."

"That I would have to agree with, he certainly scared the hell out of me
the first time you brought him into the room. I couldn't sleep for three
nights worrying if he was going to serve me up for supper while I slept."

"Ha and now you know he was just a softy as long as you didn't get on his
wrong side."

"Yes I do have to admit he handled those two ruffians to save my bacon in
the street that night. If you see him again tell him I was asking after
him; I still owe him for saving me."

"I'll do that. So Sebastian, what are you up to in the halls of power now
that you carry the title and have your duty to perform for the Government?"

"Oh just the same old thing Percy. Half the time I think it's a damn waste
of time and the other half I really think we are accomplishing
something. You know old man there has always been one question I wanted to
ask you but never got the courage or the chance."

"Well now is your chance Sebastian, I have all night and seeing you after
all this time and having the chance to renew an old friendship is more
important than dinner."

"Well Percy, I have always wanted to know how you managed to get into
Cambridge. When you look at those times it was almost impossible for a
young man of seventeen who had no title and no money to join the school. I
remember the day you arrived; not only did you look as though you had just
stepped off some old ship but your clothes were not exactly fashionable for
the times. I can still remember the smell of the sea on you."

Percy couldn't restrain the laughter as he looked at the only person of his
Cambridge school days that had stood beside him through the three years he
was there. The three years had not been easy for either of them although
Sebastian, because of his family ties had it far easier. Percy had
struggled both with the demanding lessons and the almost constant bullying;
that was until he had had enough and turned on his tormenters.

"Well it was mainly due to my Captain at the time. He said I would need a
good education if I wanted to make something of myself. It was through his
many and varied contacts that he got me into the school and, even when I
was at my lowest he would have a few words and keep me on track. I'm glad
now that he did even though I hated every day in the damn place; well all
except for our friendship."

"Well it seems to have paid off for you Percy if what I hear is
correct. It's a damn shame that they expelled you from Cambridge as they
did; still the others now carry your mark for the rest of their lives and
will not ever forget their meeting with you. You know Percy; in the three
years we roomed together I never knew you carried that knife with
you. Unfortunately had you not carved your initials in their foreheads
there was a good chance you could have stayed. Everyone including the Head
knew about their bullying ways but they could not countenance you carving
them up after you knocked them unconscious with that broom handle. "

"Well old friend, that's water under the bridge and to be truthful, three
years was more than enough of that place for my liking. So tell me what
have you heard old friend?"

"Oh this and that, you know how it is in the House of Lords; we get to hear
everything sooner or later."

"Come on old friend, now is not the time to play coy; especially with me."

"Well I did have a paper come across my desk which stated that a certain
Colonel Percy Cruikshank was to take over command of the spy division at
the War Office. Now being as the name is not a common one it did raise my
interest at the time."

"Ah so I have been caught out at last. Well Sebastian you are of course
quite right although I think they wanted me for the job because it was
beneath anyone else. Still I have tried to do the best I can for the
country and that was always my one concern."

"Is it true you had something to do with that young drummer boy who took
the newspapers by storm on the Peninsular?"

"Ah yes young Thomas; quite a boy that one, I may even introduce you if I
get the chance one day. I think you will find him very entertaining and
quite the surprise."

"Well if all the reports are correct that will never happen but I think I
would have liked to have met him before he met his fate."

"Oh he didn't meet the fate they are portraying. I can tell you he is quite
fit and well and causing all sorts of trouble for the French although he no
longer fights for England but the powers that be have only themselves to
blame for that event."

"Really! He is still alive and still fighting?"

"Oh yes, you don't kill off a boy like that."

"But who is he fighting for if not for England?"

"For the same people that truly believed in him. The Spanish and
Portuguese; they even gave him a title as well as lands of his own and he
is now one of their Generals. It's a shame really but I can see him not
wanting to return after the war except to visit with his family. If that
happens Sebastian then the King will lose not only a good man but one that
could even be great in time."

"If you have such confidence in him, what then would it take to get him
back to England?"

"To be honest, I don't think there is anything we could do if he wished not
to return. You would have to meet the boy to understand that. Perhaps if he
comes to England I can arrange for him to meet with you if you wished it."

"I think I would like that Percy; he sounds much like a certain young
sailor who took Cambridge by storm."

"Personally I think he is far more at his age than I ever was but I will
certainly make sure he makes your acquaintance if at all possible."

"Good I would like that immensely. Now what have you planned for the rest
of the night?"

"Just a quiet dinner and then to bed; I have a lot to do tomorrow so an
early night is in order."

"Well I shall leave you to your quiet night and get back to my other
friends but I want you to remember something."

"What would that be Sebastian?"

"If there is ever anything you need or want done I expect you to call me
and I don't give a damn who likes it or not. I still owe you and your
savage my life and that can never be repaid."

"Thank you Sebastian, that means a great deal to me."

Sebastian Belmont rose from his chair and offered his hand to Percy as he
got ready to leave. Old friendships never waned and Sebastian still had a
debt to pay the sailor boy who had upset the status quo at Cambridge and
given Sebastian a chance to experience something of the real world outside
his normally protected life.

Percy finished the last of his Brandy and then went to find his solitary
table for dinner. Percy sat at the back of the dining room at a small
reserved table; very few were ever invited to the table and only those in
the know could understand why. Percy finished his second glass of claret
and pushed his empty plate aside just as Lord Belmont and his friends
walked into the dining room.

Percy was just about to stand up when they arrived and he got a smile and
nod from Sebastian as he and his friends were shown to a larger table at
the centre of the room. Percy acknowledged the smile with one of his own
and then left for his rooms; he still had a report to finish before his
important meeting the next day.

Percy left his damp cloak at the attendant's desk as he entered Whitehall
for his meeting; it was a long climb up the stairs to his own private
office at the top of the building. It had been later than he thought by the
time he had finalised his report and now there was only the meeting to take
care of; he hoped his guest was already there and waiting, he wanted to be
away from London as soon as he could.

Percy was not disappointed when he arrived at his small office; his guest
was sitting in the only comfortable chair in the room except for the large
leather one behind the old desk.

"Ah Colonel, right on time as usual. How was your trip home?"

"Good thank you Sir."

Percy made it to his chair behind the desk and settled his handful of
papers on the desk in front of him before continuing with the meeting.

"Now then Colonel, what do we have?"

"It's much as we thought Sir. Marshal Beresford seems to have embellished
his report a little. I think his objective was to promote himself in the
eyes of others and retain his position at the cost of the young man."

"Aha, so what do you advise Colonel?"

"Personally Sir I think he should at the very least be censured for his
claims and perhaps given a lesser place under Wellington."

"Good then I will accept your recommendation and I will attend to it as
soon as I return to my office. Now then what about our young experiment?"

"Young Thomas is lost to us I'm afraid. The report from Marshal Beresford
has done far more damage than we can repair and young Thomas is not a very
happy lad with it at all."

"Is there nothing we can do to get him back on side?"

"I doubt it very much Sir. The Spanish and Portuguese saw his value very
early on and have given him a title and a large estate as well as complete
command of his forces so unless we can at the very least match that then I
am afraid he is theirs."

"But what about his loyalty and patriotism to England Colonel?"

"I think that after the way he was treated by Marshal Beresford's report
his patriotism may be less than we can rely on. On the other hand Sir, he
would never actually turn against us and his hatred of the French is what
drives him. I think Sir the only thing we can do is continue to support his
efforts anyway we can and hope that sometime in the future he may change
his stance."

"I shall think it over Colonel but I do tend to agree with you. Now what of
the Morgans? Are they still with us?"

"Most definitely Sir, as you well know they would never turn their backs on
England but they also have a very soft spot for our young man and have even
registered a new shipping company in his name with Lloyds."

"A shipping company? Why the devil would they do a thing like that? Is old
Henry finally losing his marbles?"

"Far from it Sir. I have heard that young Thomas has come into a ship that
was declared lost at sea and it will now be used to supply his men when
needed but you would have to ask old Henry for any further information on
that subject Sir."

"Come now Colonel, after all these years I damn well know you are not
telling me everything you know."

"That's as may be Sir but truly I am not at liberty to say more; perhaps if
you contact Henry he may tell you more."

"You know damn well Colonel that I will get even less out of that old
scoundrel than I get out of you. So then what do we do now?"

"The only thing I can think of would be to ask their Lordships in the house
to award an open contract for anything the young man needs and hope he can
continue to make life hell for Napoleon and his armies. If we leave him out
on his own then we may have more problems than if we support his efforts."

"A novel thought Colonel but what about the services, they are going to
kick up one hell of a stink if they see us sending much needed supplies to
a Spanish force?"

Percy smiled as he watched the face of the man in front of him; he could
almost see the man's brain working on how he could circumvent the military
to get aid to Thomas.

"Well Sir perhaps a little deception would be in order when the time came?"

"Colonel I am inclined to agree with you even though I know damn well you
are a devious man and have planned this all out a long time ago. Very well
Colonel I shall approach their Lordships in the house and see what can be
done. I don't suppose you have anyone in mind that could aid us in this
endeavour?"

"Well Sir, there is one that comes to mind. I know he is often seen as a
bit of a wastrel and not really of a desire to become involved in the
machinations of politics, but I swear if there was a man who could really
sway things in our favour it would possibly be him."

"And his name Colonel?'

"Lord Sebastian Belmont Sir."

"Belmont? You have to be joking Colonel. Lord Belmont is well known for his
disinterest in the workings of Government. I doubt there would be a single
Lord in the house who would listen to him."

"Do not underestimate Lord Belmont Sir, many have done that in the past and
paid a high price for their ignorance. I would suggest you make him the
offer but it would be better if you did not mention my name although you
may mention the young man's name if it makes it any better."

"Well Colonel I don't really have the same confidence in Lord Belmont as
you seem to have but I shall try; and if he says no?"

"Then Sir it would remain only for yourself to stand for what we want but
as you well know that could create complications."

"Complications Colonel; it would bloody well bring down the Government. You
know the King would not countenance the Prime Minister becoming involved
with military matters."

"Yes Sir I well understand that but then again you have been involved from
the very beginning so the least we can do is try to carry our original plan
for the boy to the end and protect him as best we can."

"I know Colonel; I can only hope that this stays hidden as we first
agreed."

"I am the only one who knows Sir so you can rest assured your reputation is
safe but we also have to keep the promise to protect the young man as well
as we can."

"Yes I agree Colonel. There is one thing that has always puzzled me
though."

"And that is Sir?"

"How did you know he would be the one we needed?"

"I knew of his father and what he did and so could only hope the young man
was made of the same fibre. He proved that and more at Rolica as we all now
know."

"Well he has certainly proved his worth over and above what we hoped. How
old is he now? It must be close to four years he has been out there?"

"Almost four years Sir, I believe he has just enjoyed his fifteenth
birthday but has a head on his shoulders of one far older and wiser for
such tender years."

"Indeed Colonel. Well if that is all I had better get back to Downing
Street before they wonder where their Prime Minister has got to. I will
expect you to keep me informed Colonel."

"As always Sir."

Percy watched the Prime Minister leave the office and breathed a sigh of
relief. What had to be done was now done and he could soon return to
Portugal to watch over his best kept secret. If the French only knew half
of what was to come their way, Percy was sure Napoleon would pull all his
troops out of the blighted Peninsular. With the rumblings he had heard
about Napoleons plans for Russia in the next few months came true then it
would only bode well for the campaign in the long run.

The importance of Thomas on the Peninsular was to become even more real and
needed if the American colony did manage to break away. The reports he had
seen from there had already told him that England may not be able to hold
the American colony for much longer; but that was out of his hands and his
own responsibilities were to his young friend in Portugal.





Snot was surprised when he was asked to stay with Thomas's family for as
long as he liked. It was something he was not used to and he soon fitted in
well with Cromwell and even helped as much as he could on the small five
acre farm. Watching the antics of Thomas's baby brother also gave him an
immense sense of joy and fun; he had never been around children as young as
the boy and it delighted him at every turn.

After a full week and more with the kindly people, Snot realised he had
better make his way back to London. His father would not be too worried
about him but time was running short and he needed to get back and make his
report to the General.

Snot arrived back in London the next day and went straight to his father's
tavern; he was just in time to find out that the Avante was at the dock and
almost ready to leave with the cargo for Thomas. Snot would travel on the
ship and land in the small private bay with the needed supplies; it was the
first days of February and he was already late for his return.

It would take five or six days to get back as long as everything went well
and this he knew would make him late to report. Snot could only hope that
the news he carried about his General's family would make his lateness
acceptable.

With the new masts, sails and shiny guns as well as being lengthened and
the hull cleaned; the Avante glided through the slightly choppy sea with
ease. A small fenced area had been hastily erected for Snot's horse aft of
the main deck and Snot was allowed to stand on the poop with the new
Captain. It was when they were less than a full day and night from the
small bay that the topman called out that there was a sail sighted.

It was less than an hour to dark when she was sighted and as the smaller
ship, which was flying French colours was a tempting target for the newly
armed and larger Avante, Captain O'Grady called for the new guns to be run
out and the decks cleared for action. Snot wasted no time in checking his
personal weapons after going below to reclaim his double barrelled musket.

Snot rejoined Captain O'Grady on the after deck and watched as the Avante
ploughed ahead at speed to quickly overhaul the slower French sloop. With
only a single lanteen sail and a smaller mizzen, the French sloop had
little chance against the faster and well armed Ship that was now only a
hundred yards away and showing a formidable number of guns along its main
deck. The French Captain knew he was well and truly beaten and after being
hailed, dropped his sails and surrendered his ship.

Captain O'Grady had little to no interest in the French crew and allowed
them to take to the boats while he sent some of his own men onto the sloop
to sail her back to the hidden cove with the Avante close on her stern for
protection. It did not take long for the French boats to disappear into the
darkness as the two ships turned back on course for the bay that had now
been named on their charts as Toro Bay in honour of Thomas and also to
confuse any who may have the bay marked in another name on their own
charts.

It was late in the afternoon of the next day that saw the two ships
anchored in Toro Bay. The sloop and its cargo were standing out in deeper
water while the Avante was tied up to the newly completed wharf at the far
end of the bay to unload its precious cargo of supplies for Thomas's
army. Snot and his horse were the first ones put ashore so he could ride
for Vimeiro to get wagons to carry the cargo back to the valley.

Snot rode hard for the valley and only slowed or stopped when the horse
needed rest or he himself was too tired to continue. It was late on the
second day when he came in sight of the entrance to the valley and he
breathed a sigh of relief.

A half hour later and Snot had reported to Major Jones about the ship and
the arrival of the supplies. Jones wasted no time in organising all those
he could use in the camp to get the wagons ready and it was just coming on
dusk when the first of them left for the bay; the rest would follow as the
wagons were made ready.

Snot went to look after his horse and finally get some rest. The camp
seemed strangely silent and cold with just about everyone going to help
with the supplies, only the young men; many of them were those who carried
wounds that made it difficult for them to fight in a normal battle had
stayed so that the entrance to the valley was under guard at all times.

Snot hoped his lateness would not cause Thomas to be angry with him; he was
meant to have been back before the end of January; perhaps the capture of
another ship for Marking Shipping Company would make his General a little
happier and Snot would not get into too much trouble for his tardiness.

Once the wagons were all on the move, Jones mounted his horse and made the
best speed he could towards Toro Bay. In his panniers were his ledgers and
writing materials; everything that came off the ship would be recorded in
his meticulous hand and a full report would be made for his General to see
when he returned to Vimeiro.

Jones arrived at Toro Bay well ahead of the wagons less than four days
after Snot had left. On the new dock were piles of cargo which had been
well covered with canvas to keep the weather off them. Jones slowed his
horse and looked around until he found a place for the poor animal to rest
and eat; he had pushed hard and now the horse deserved a long rest before
the return journey.

Major Jones walked the length of the new dock until he was at the gangplank
of the ship where he was met by Captain O'Grady. It did not take long for
the two men to go through the manifest of the cargo so that the wagons
could be loaded as soon as they arrived. Once that was done then Captain
O'Grady pointed out the second ship in the bay and asked Jones what was to
be done with it.

As Jones knew just about everything that concerned Thomas it was not
difficult to know what to do with the sudden arrival of a new ship.

"Can the same people that rebuilt the Avante also rework that one Captain
O'Grady?"

"I can make inquiries Major, it would be better if we could have the ship
under the companies command. The more the merrier they do say Major."

"Do you know what her cargo is Captain?"

"No Major, we haven't had time to open hatches as yet; would you like it
done while you are here Major?"

"If it were not too much trouble Captain; at least then we would have some
idea of what to do with her."

"Right you are Major, I'll send one of the men in the dory and they can
raise hatches for a look-see."

"Thank you Captain, now I better get back ashore and see to the wagons as
it appears the first one is almost here."

Captain O'Grady nodded and turned back to the last of the unloading; he
still had his hold three parts full of other cargo destined for Oporto
where the new Company now had its own warehouse and a small dock. For
Captain O'Grady it was not going to be as fast as he at first thought.

An hour later and the boatswain returned in the dory to give his report on
the sloop's cargo; it turned out to be more unloading at the dock.

"So Boatswain, what have we got?"

"Mostly war supplies Captain; appears the French are having trouble with
their overland supply lines and are sending most by sea now."

"Well if that's the case we might be able to pick up a few more on the way
to Oporto if luck is on our side. Is there anything apart from war
supplies?"

"Aye Sir, appears to be about a half hold of general cargo, mostly cloth
and other such goods. Could be a pretty penny all told Sir."

"Right then Boatswain, it is your duty to get the war supplies ashore once
we have finished with the Avante and then batten hatches and follow us to
Oporto. We will wait for you to cast off then keep her close to our stern
as we make way. Tell First Mate Bowden to come back here and you can take
over for the run to Oporto. It looks like we will be on the hunt for more
crew."

The Boatswain bowed his head with the usual touch of a nonexistent forelock
and went see to his duties. Captain O'Grady watched over the final part of
his own unloading and then prepared to leave the dock for anchorage while
the sloop was attended to.

As the wagons arrived in ones and twos, they were quickly loaded and sent
on their way. Jones held back six of the scullery lads so they had cooks on
site as there were at least four days of cargo to move and they would need
to feed the men. Jones invited Captain O'Grady to dinner that night so they
could discuss the extra cargo from the newly captured sloop. It had raised
a few problems of what to do with it and especially the war supplies.

"So Captain, do you have an accounting of the cargo?"

"Aye Major, I had the carpenter go through the hold and take stock."

"So what do we have?"

"There be twenty kegs of course powder for the guns, ten kegs of fine
powder for musket and pistol, five chests of flints, ten crates of French
muskets, four crates of Infantry Bayonets. That's all of the weaponry but
there are also ten crates of French uniforms and other sundry items of
war. Most of the hold is filled with bolts of cloth, casks of Brandy and
wine as well as bales of wool and crates of china plates and other things
for the table. In some of the other barrels there is a quantity of grain."

"Sounds like a good mix and should make good coin in Oporto or Lisbon. I
think the muskets should be kept by us and I am sure the General would
prefer you to have all of your men armed when at sea so I would suggest you
make an arms locker and keep as many of the muskets and as much of the
powder as you need. Now that we have a second ship it may also be best to
keep all captured weapons for our own use when the need arises."

"Very good Major, I'll see to it just as soon as we make Oporto. Is there
anything else I should be aware of Major?"

"No Captain, I believe we now have a Chandler at the new dock so he will
arrange everything else for you."

"Very good Major, we will get the rest unloaded and be on our way as soon
as you have the course powder unloaded off the capture."

"Thank you Captain O'Grady, now if there is nothing more perhaps we can
settle down and have this fine dinner the boys have cooked for us."

The two settled at the small table and began to eat and drink as the
unloading continued into the evening. Just before midnight the Avante
cleared the small dock and anchored further away so the captured sloop
could tie up and its cargo of gunpowder for the heavy guns be unloaded.

By sunrise the next morning, both ships were leaving the hidden bay and
Jones was writing down his last entry into one of his ever-present
ledgers. It remained now only for the rest of the dock to be cleared of
cargo and a final return to Vimeiro where everything would be sorted and
Surgeon Jervis would at last have his supplies. Jones had noted that the
amount of supplies was far greater than he thought they had asked for;
perhaps there had been an error in London but it was still welcome and
would stock Mister Jervis's infirmary to the brim.

Jones had been back in Vimeiro for more than two weeks when he received a
message that the General was returning with his men to replenish his
supplies before returning to the attack. As yet Jones had not received any
reports of the fighting to the north and east but he surmised it must have
been successful if Thomas was returning to rearm and re-equip.





Estaban stood with his youngest cousin at his side just inside the tree
line that overlooked the small town of Toro. From here they would have a
long hard ride to make the rendezvous with his eldest cousin Pablo outside
Tudela. The three pronged attack had been worked out between the four
cousins. Estaban would take the youngest Diego and attack Toro, Pablo being
the eldest would hopefully be able to attack Aranda at much the same time
and then both would ride hard towards Tudela where they hoped to meet up
with Thomasino and attack Tudela in force altogether.

Once the attack on Tudela was complete they would then all make for the
meeting place in the hills near Somosiera with the Patron. Estaban and
Diego had been keeping watch on the town below for the last two days as had
others of their small force. Each evening the watchers had gathered to make
their reports and the plans were set in motion.

The one overriding factor had been the spring weather; for Estaban and his
musket cavalry there was little problem but for the French Company below it
was an ever present burden and Estaban planned to take advantage of it as
best he could.

Estaban and Pablo would time their attacks at approximately the same time
and then both ride to Tudela to help Thomasino in a combined raid as the
town was the largest of the three; they would then all turn south east and
make for Somosiera before the French could mount any form of counter
attack.

Estaban watched the four man guard at the end of the town of Toro. He had
seen that most of the French garrison was made up of old soldiers and the
very young recruits. It appeared to Estaban that the garrison thought they
were well out of the fighting and their attitude and seeming sense of
security had made them a little lax in their guard duties.

At both ends of the town the four soldiers on guard had a small table and
chairs that they used for rest unless there were people coming into the
town; they would then stop the visitors briefly and then let them enter the
town for the day or to conduct their business. Even though there were
reports of minor rebel activity all over Spain the guards did not seem to
take it too seriously.

Estaban had planned that the best time for his attack was just at dusk; it
was then that the full French garrison was gathered all in one place for
the lowering of the French flag and the issuing or orders for the night
pickets. The parade took about twenty minutes from when the garrison was
all present before the flag staff so it gave Estaban and his Cavalry plenty
of time to quickly cross the five hundred yards in the fading light and
enter the town at a gallop.

There was to be no delay in the attack. The riders would pour through the
town and into the central square where they would open fire on the hapless
French while still at the gallop and then continue right through the town
and out the other side without slowing. The French would only have moving
targets in the dim dusk light and Estaban hoped that would be their best
form of safety.

There was one other thing that Estaban was relying on and as yet he had not
seen anything to disprove his theory. The hardest thing for any soldier,
but especially during winter and spring, was to keep his powder dry and to
this end most never loaded their muskets until needed. Many times a musket
was ruined because the soldier could not clear the wadded shot and damp
powder from his loaded musket and so the normal practice was to leave the
weapon unloaded until it was needed.

For Estaban this was to be his saving grace; he hoped that with his men's
speed and the suddenness of the attack, the French garrison would not have
time to load their muskets to return fire and his men would be well out of
the town before the French could do so.

As dusk drew in Estaban watched the day time guards leave their little
table and chairs and move back into the town leaving the roadway wide open
and unguarded for the time it would take to lower the French flag; Estaban
whistled into the dimming light under the thick trees and was rewarded by
the creaking sound of men stepping into their saddles and the many clicks
of muskets being put on half cock.

The men were ready and the time was now right; Estaban gave the signal for
the riders to move out from under the cover of the trees and form up in a
three abreast column; it was time to put fear into the French invaders and
it took only a glance to either side for Estaban to see the grim looks on
the faces of those closest to him to know the French were going to pay
dearly this evening.

The French flag was at half mast when the garrison realised they had a
large number of riders approaching very fast. The faces of the Officers
showed a range of emotions as they heard the riders coming closer. At first
it was a look of wonder which soon changed to one of inquiry; that look was
soon changed to one of fear as the first riders appeared at the edge of the
square dressed all in black and standing in their saddles with aimed
muskets.

The French garrison of one hundred and thirteen men had been caught flat
footed and with empty muskets. Estaban could not believe his eyes in the
dim light as he saw the entire garrison lined up neatly in three ranks
before the half lowered flag; a second later and the loud sound of multiple
muskets sounded over the quiet town.

The French garrison had no time to react as they were cut down by the
withering fire of the mounted musketeers; while the French had their
bayonets mounted they were no match for fast riding musket wielding riders
who appeared from the darkness in a never ending stream; fired two shots
from their standing position in their saddles and rode off into the fast
dimming darkness of early evening.

The fast attack and resulting mayhem among the practically unarmed garrison
left many dead and seriously wounded soldiers lying in the square and not a
single answering shot had been made; those French soldiers still alive and
able were still trying to load their muskets when the last rider
disappeared into the darkness at the eastern end of the town.

The whole raid had taken less than two minutes and the French were to count
their losses at forty six dead and thirty eight wounded, most severely and
some of those would not see out the night.

The chaos created by the sudden and deadly attack had left the only Officer
to survive with the problem of trying to organise some sort of defence
against an enemy that had already disappeared into the darkness. Once again
the French had reacted too late and with too little, the threat could now
be heard riding away to the east and as the sound of the massed hooves
disappeared the French were left wondering just what had happened in those
few minutes and even though the groans and cries of the wounded proved they
had just been hit and beaten by a rebel group it still seemed an
impossibility.

Estaban led his men eastward; they had a long hard ride to make the
rendezvous at Tudela and he hoped that Pablo had had as much
success. Estaban was well aware that the Patron was going to attack the
French at Medina del Campo later that same evening and they had all planned
for the simultaneous attacks on the same day to cause as much disruption
for the French as possible.

Estaban had little to worry about with Pablo; he had chosen to attack the
garrison at Aranda a little later in the night and make best use of the
darkness by attacking on foot with only a few of his men holding the horses
just outside of the town in readiness. The night pickets at each end of the
town of Aranda had been silently disposed of and the fact the French
garrison was encamped in their own tents just outside of the town and not
billeted in the town itself as in Toro made it even easier for Pablo and
his men.

Any guard or soldier found outside his tent or walking around in the open
was quickly disposed of with a quick slash of a very sharp knife from the
shadows; Pablo then had his men take up a station outside each tent with
their muskets. At Pablo's signal all hell broke loose as one hundred
muskets fired into the sleeping men trapped inside their tents. The firing
lasted only long enough for everyman in Pablo's force to fire both barrels
and then they disappeared into the darkness before the French even had time
to realise they were under attack; the results for Pablo and his men were
even more devastating than his cousin Estaban had achieved.

By the time those who remained of the French garrison could get their wits
about them, all they heard was the sound of a large number of horses
disappearing into the night; no one had even seen the attackers let alone
had time to load or fire off a shot in anger.

Pablo urged his men westward to make the meeting outside Tudela and rejoin
with his two brothers and his older cousin Estaban; the planned attack on
Tudela was to take place in the very early hours of the morning when
hopefully the larger and better organised garrison of Tudela would be at
their lowest. There would have to be a quick discussion on what information
Thomasino had been able gather for them before they all took part in the
final attack before turning south east for Somosiera.

The attack on Tudela proved to be just as successful as the previous two if
not even better. Tudela was garrisoned by a force of two hundred French but
the extra numbers counted for little when you have empty muskets and are
attacked by musket wielding cavalry from three sides and in total darkness;
the fact most of the garrison was settled in their beds and had little to
no warning gave all the advantage to the attackers and Estaban made sure
his men took full advantage of the situation.

As Estaban led his men to the south after the attack, they left behind only
the cries and screams of the wounded and lines of burning tents; of the two
hundred men in the garrison, only ninety six would survive to tell of the
terrible night raid on their defenceless bivouac; of the attackers not one
was found but a number of small red and gold flags lying on the ground at
the centre of the camp soon told the French who was responsible.

After leaving the chaos of Tudela behind them, Estaban led the three troops
of his cavalry across the River Douro and into the wide open plains of
Castile which would lead them right on to Somosiera. Estaban had to find a
good hiding place for the coming daylight hours as he did not want to be
caught in the open by any roving French Cavalry patrols.

During the day the three troops hid in a long and deep ravine until the sun
was only an hour from setting in the west. With visibility now low in the
early dusk light, Estaban led his men once again to the south; he hoped to
meet up with the Patron before morning and with luck they would all be
together once again and prepare for their pending attack on Somosiera
before moving further east.

The coming attack on Somosiera was planned for three days after the initial
attacks on the other outlying towns and they were hoping that the wide
distances between each attack would make the French expend even more troops
into looking for them.

Late in the afternoon Estaban noticed the three observers watching them
from a slight ridge at the foot of the mountains leading to Somosiera. As
the distant figures were dressed in black he had little doubt they were the
Patron's outer guards.

Estaban lifted his hand to the watchers and was a little relieved when he
saw the answering signal; it was time to rejoin the others and get down to
planning. Estaban led his three troops into the ravine that was the new
camp of the Patron; while his men unsaddled and looked to the horses he
went in search of the Patron to make his report.

That night the plans were changed once they saw what supplies they still
had. There was enough for the attack on Somosiera but Molina and
Villaviciosa would have to wait until they had resupplied back at
Vimeiro. It was decided that the guns would expend as much of their
munitions as they need at Somosiera and then break off and make haste for
their home valley while the Cavalry and Infantry would continue with the
attack until its end then act as rear guard for the guns as they tracked
back home.

Estaban was welcomed back with smiles and open arms as he led his men into
the camp; the celebration that night was a welcome relief for everyone now
that they were all back together and everyone was safe even though they did
have sixteen wounded but fortunately none were serious and the two young
men trained and sent by Jervis were able to take care of them with ease.

Over dinner that night the Officers sat and talked about the upcoming
attack. They all agreed that they would need at least six days of hard
travel to get back to Vimeiro so the attack had to be within the next three
days so they could leave the area before the 10th of February and be back
at the home valley before the 16th or 17th. Once everything had been
decided, Thomas sent a rider off to Vimeiro with the news of their pending
move back home and the approximate date of their arrival. It would give
those who had stayed behind a better idea of what was going on way out in
Spain.

As Thomas and his men had only been in the ravine for little less than four
hours before Estaban and the Cavalry had shown up, no one had yet been to
spy on Somosiera; that was to be the first thing to be done next morning
and hopefully they would be able to form a plan and attack within the
limited time they had left before their return home.

It took two days for Thomas to get a good overall picture of the town and
garrison at Somosiera and he smiled as he heard the final report of the
garrison's habits and parade times; it all went to prefect the plan.

The final plan was ready and the whole small army would move into place
during the night time hours of the 9th, the attack was planned for the
first hours of dawn when the French would still be groggy from their beds
but before they got to their breakfast. It was well known that a hungry man
could not fight as well as a fed one and Thomas was banking on that and the
early morning surprise for the best advantage over his enemy.

The last report they got was that most of the men of Somosiera were closely
allied with the French garrison so Thomas and his men would get little if
no help from them and to that end it was going to be full scale attack.

An hour before dawn on the 10th of the month the last gun was set in place
and the gunners got ready for their opening salvo. The Infantry had crept
close to the town and would enter after the guns had had their way with the
defenders. Estaban had all of his men formed up behind the single Infantry
Corps just short of the western end of the town and would also attack once
the guns started to do their work. With Oliver Perrin and the second
Infantry Corps at the eastern end of the town it was hoped that the French
garrison would have to try to defend on two fronts at the same time.

The report told of not more than one hundred and fifty French in the
garrison but Thomas also felt he could not count on the men of Somosiera
either and would have to take them into consideration as well. Thomas gave
the order that regardless of who it was, any man carrying a weapon was to
be seen as an enemy and shown no mercy; his losses at Olivenca had now made
him want every Frenchman or those who sided with them to be killed to the
last man if necessary.

Thomas took his spy glass out and began to look into the gloom of dawn;
while it was still dark there was just the smallest hint of dawn light in
the east; it was time to wake up the French.

Thomas looked behind where he was hidden with the other men that were part
of his guard detail and raised his hand above his head; Major Craven Morgan
swore he would see the signal and it was only seconds later when the first
rank of the guns opened up with the first barrage of the attack. Thomas at
the time hoped his other men would be able to push hard and fast just as
soon as the guns started the new firing orders. There would be little room
for mistakes if they wanted to win and not end up firing into their own
men.

The battle for Somosiera had started.

TBC.