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mylordtoyouEdrington's first introduction
The horse and the guillotine
Edrington, Horatio, and the first skirmish with the Revolutionaries.
Retreat to the Indefatigable
"Unfix--bayonets!" roared the mounted officer, uttering the first words Hornblower had understood.
Horblower positively goggled at the ensuing formalities, as the fuglemen strode their three paces forward, all exactly to time like marionettes worked by the same strings, turned their heads to look down the line, and gave time for detaching the bayonets, for sheathing them, and for returning the muskets to the men's sides. The fuglemen fell back into their places, exactly to time again as far as Hornblower could see, but not exactly enough apparently, as the seargent-major bellowed his discontent and brought the fuglemen out and sent them back again.
"I'd like to see him laying aloft on a stormy night," muttered Kennedy. "D'ye think he could take the main tops'l earring?"
"These Lobsters!" said Midshipman Bracegirdle.
The scarlet lines stood rigid, all five companies, the seargents with their halberds indicating the intervals--from halberd to halberd the line of faces down and then up again, with the men exactly sized off, the tallest men at the flanks and the shortest men in the centre of each company. Not a finger moved, not an eyebrow twitched. Down every back hung rigidly a powdered pigtail.
The mounted officer trotted down the line to where the naval party waited, and Lieutenant Bolton, in command, stepped forward with his hand to his hat brim.
"My men are ready to embark sir," said the army officer. "The baggage will be here immediately."
"Aye aye, major," said Bolton--the army title and the navy reply in strange contrast.
"It would be better to address me as 'my lord,'" said the major.
"Aye aye, sir--my lord," replied Bolton, caught quite off his balance.
His lordship, the Earl of Edrington, Major commanding this wing of the 43rd Foot, was a heavyily built young man in his early twenties. He was a fine soldierly figure in his well-fitting uniform, and mounted on a magnificent charger, but he seemed a little young for his present responsible command.
~*&*~&~*&*~
"You must go forward with the frogs, Hornblower," [Bolton] said.
"I'll give you a horse," added Edrington. "Take that one--the roan. I've got to have someone I can trust along with them. Keep your eye on them and let me know the moment they get up to any monkey tricks--God knows what they'll do next."
"Here's the rest of your stores coming ashore," said Bolton. "I'll send 'em up as soon as you send some carts back to me. What the hell's that?"
"That's a portable guillotine, sir," said Hornblower. "Part of the French baggage."
All three turned and looked at Pousuages, sitting his horse impatiently during this conversation which he did not understand. He knew what they were referring to, all the same.
~*&*~&~*&*~
Skirting the wide marsh here ran an narrow path through the lush grass, leading to the ford which the 43rd were guarding. Hornblower led his horse onto the path before he mounted; he felt he would be more sure in that way of persuading the horse to take that direction. It was not long before he saw a dot of scarlet on the riverbank--pickets thrown out from the main body to watch against any unlikely attempt to cross the marshes and stream round the British flank. Then he saw the cottage that indicated the site of the ford; in the field beside it was a wide patch of scarlet indicating where the main body was waiting for developments. At this point the marsh narrowed where a ridge of slightly higher ground approached the water; a company of redcoats was drawn up here with Lord Edrington on horseback beside them. Hornblower rode up and made his report, somewhat jerkily as his horse moved restlessly under him.
"No serious attack, you say?" asked Edrington.
"No sign of one when I left, sir."
"Indeed?" Edrington stared across the river. "And here it is the same story. No attempt to cross the ford in force. Why would they show their hand and then not attack?"
"I thought they were burning powder unnecessarily, sir," said Hornblower.
"They're not fools," snapped Edrington, with another penetrating look across the river. "At any rate, there's no harm in assuming they are not."
He turned his horse and cantered back to the main body and gave an order to a captain who scrambled to his feet to recieve it. The captain bellowed an order, and his company stood up and fell into line, rigid and motionless. Tow further orders turned them to the right and marched all of them in file, every man in step, every musket sloped at the same angle. Edrington watched them go.
"No harm in having a flank guard," he said.
The sound of cannon across the water recalled them to the river; on the other side of the marsh a column of troups could be seen marching rapidly along the bank.
"That's the same column coming back sir," said the company commander. "That or another just like it."
"Marching about and firing random shots," said Edrington. "Mr. Hornblower, have the emigre troops any flank guard out toward Quiberon?"
"Towards Quiberon, sir?" said Hornblower, taken aback.
"Damn it, can't you hear a plain question? Is there, or is there not?"
"I don't know, sir," confessed Hornblower, miserably.
There were five thousand emigre troops at Quiberon, and it seemed quite unecessary to keep a guard out in that direction.
"Then present my compliments to the French emigre general, and suggest he post a strong detatchment at the end of the road, if he has not done so."
"Aye aye, sir."
Hornblower turned his horse's head back up the path toward the bridge. The sun was shining strongly now over the deserted fields. He could still hear the occasional thud of a cannon shot, but overhead a lark was singing in the blue sky. Then as he headed up the last low ridge towards Muzillac and the bridge he heard a sudden irregular outburst of firing; he rancied he heard screams and shouts and what he saw, as he topped the rise, made him snatch at his reins and drag his horse to a halt. The fields were covered with fugitives in the blue uniform with white crossbelts, all running madly toward him. In among the fugitives were galloping horsemen, whirling sabres that flashed in the sunshine. Farther out to the left a whole colemn of horsemen were trotting fast across the fields, and farther back the sun glittered on lines of bayonets moving rapidly from the highroad toward the sea.
There could be no doubt of what had happened; during those sick emigres seconds when he sat and stared, Hornblower realized the truth; the Revolutionaries had pushed in a force between Quiberon and Muzillac, and keeping the occupied by demonstrations from across the river, had rushed down and brought off a complete surprise attack from an unexpected quarter. Heaven only knew what had happened at Quiberon--but this was no time to think about that. Hornblower dragged his horse's head round and kicked his heels into the brute's sides, urging him frantically back up the path towards the British. He bounced and rolled in his saddle, clinging on madly, consumed with fear lest he lose his seat and be captured by the pursuing French.
At the clatter of hoofs every eye turned toward him when he reached the British post. Edrington was there, standing with his horse's bridle over his arm.
"The French!" yelled hornblower hoarsely, pointing back. "They're coming!"
"I expected nothing else," said Edrington.
He shouted an order before he put his foot in the stirrup to mount. The main body of the 43rd was standing in line by the time he was in the saddle. His adjutant went galloping off to recall the company from the water's edge.
"The French are in force, horse, foot, and guns, I suppose?" asked Edrington.
"Horse and foot at least sir," gasped Hornblower, trying to keep his head clear. "I saw no guns."
"And the emigres are running like rabbits?"
"Yes sir."
"Here come the first of them."
Over the nearest ridge a few blue uniforms made their appearance, their wearers still running while stumbling with fatigue.
"I suppose we must cover their retreat, although they're not worth saving," said Edrington. "Look there!"
The company he had sent out as a flank guard was in sight on the crest of a slight slope; it was formed into a tiny square, red against the green, and as they watched they saw a mob of horsemen flood up the hill toward it and break into an eddy around it.
"Just as well I had them posted there," remarked Edrington calmly. "Ah, here comes Mayne's company."
The force from the ford came marching up. Harsh orders were shouted. Two companies wheeled round while the seargeant-major with his sabre and his silver-headed cane regulated the pace and the alignment as if the men were on barrack square.
"I would suggest you stay by me, Mr. Hornblower," said Edrington.
He moved his horse up to the interval between the two columns, and Hornblower followed him dumbly. Another order, and the force began to march steadily across the valley, the seargeants calling the step and the seargeant-major watching the intervals. All round them now were fleeing emigre soldiers, most of them in the last stages of exhaustion--Hornblower noticed more than one of them fall down on the ground gasping and incapable of further movement. And then over the low slope to the right appeared a line of plumes, a line of sabres--a regiment of cavalry trotting rapidly forward. Hornblower saw the sabres lifted, saw the horses break into a gallop, heard the yells of the charging men. the recoats around him halted; another shouted order, another slow deliberate movement, and the half-batallion was in a square with the mounted office4rs in the center and the colours waving over their heads. The charging horsemen were less than a hundred yards away. Some officer with a deep voice began giving orders, intoning them as if at some solemn ceremony. The first order brought the muskets from the men's shoulders, and the second was answered by a simultaneous click of opened priming pans. The third order brought the muskets to the present along one face of the square.
"Too high!" said the sergeant major. "Lower there, Number Seven."
The charging horsemen were only thirty yards away; Hornblower saw the leading men, their cloaks flying from their shoulders, leaning along their horses' necks with their sabres pointed at the full stretch of their arms.
"Fire!" said the deep voice.
In reply came a single sharp explosion as every musket went off at once. the smoke swirled round the square and disappeared. Whrere Hornblower had been looking, there were now a score of horses and men on the ground, some struggling in agony, some lying still. The cavalry regiment split like a torrent encountering a rock and hurtled harmlessly past the other faces of the square.
"Well enough," said Edrington.
The deep voice was intoning again; like marionettes all on the same string the company that had fired now reloaded, every man biting out his bullet at the same instant, every man ramming home his charge, every man spitting his bullet into his musket barrel with the same instantaneous inclination of the head. Edrington looked keenly at the cavalry collecting together in a disorderly mob down the valley.
"The Forty-Third will advance!" he ordered.
With solemn ritual the square opened up again into two columns and continued its interrupted march. The detatched company came marching to join them from out of a ring of dead men and horses.
~*&*~&~*&*~
But Hornblower noticed how the seargeant-major was eyeing keenly the distance between the columns; it had to be maintained exactly so that the company wheeling back filled it to make the square.
"Here they come again," said Edrington.
The cavalry were forming for a new charge, but the square was ready for them. Now the horses were blown and the men were less than enthusiastic. It was not a solid wall of horses that came down on them, but isolated groups, rushing first at one face and then at another, and pulling up or swerving aside as they reached the line of bayonets. The attacks were too feeble to meet with company volley; at the word of command sections here and there gave fire to the more determined groups. Hornblower saw one man--an officer, judging by his gold lace--rein up before the bayonets and pull out a pistol. Before he could discharge it, half a dozen muskets went off together; the officer's face became a horrible blody mask, and he and his horse fell together to the ground. Then, all at once, the cavalry reeled off, like starlings over the field, and the march could be resumed.
"No discipline about these Frogs, not on either side," said Edrington.
The march was headed for the sea, for the blessed shelter of the Indefatigable, but it seemed to Hornblower as if the pace were intolerably slow. The men were marching at the parade step, with agonizing deliberation, while all round them and far ahead of them the fugitive emigres poured in a broad stream toward safety. Looking back, Hornblower saw the fields full of marching columns--hurrying swarms, rather--of Revolutionary infantry in hot pursuit of them.
"Once let men run, and you can't do anything else with them," commented Edrington, following Hornblower's gaze.
