Napoleonic Sharp Practice: The Liberation of Lt Dumas-De Winter

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     The exciting story continues.....

     As you may recall, gentle reader, in part one of this campaign, the unfortunate but very brave Lt Dumas-De Winter of the Dragoons had been wounded and captured by the Spanish. His captors, a force of Spanish Army Cazadores, have taken him somewhat dazed and shaken to their commander, Capitan Ernesto, who, in an effort to extract information from Dumas-De Winter, had begun plying the young French officer (and himself) liberally with wine.

     Dismayed with the popular young officers capture, his commander, Capitaine Henri de Cuisses Ferme, had roused out his troops and set off to rescue the lieutenant with the aid of Don Montaya and his men.

    However, although Don Montaya and de Cuisses Ferme know that Capitan Ernesto's HQ is only guarded by a small force of Cazadores and locally raised militia, they were unaware that as they rode to rescue Lt Dumas-De Winter a large Spanish cavalry force was approaching the area.

     In the dimly lit hallway the three dragoon officers waited. Two of them sat abjectly upon a bench whilst the third, the oldest, his hands clenched behind his back, paced slowly up and down the hallway. None of them spoke, all being deep in thought. 

     At the end of hallway a double door opened and a figure appeared, silhouetted against the brightly lit room behind it. "Capitan de Cuisses Fermes, get in here now!" spoke the rough voice of Colonel Beauregard. The officer who was pacing the hallway straightened up and replied "Oui, mon colonel" and, stealing a parting glance at the two other officers who were by now standing to attention, walked into the office. The colonel let him pass then glared at the other two " I shall deal with you two presently" he growled then closed the door with a bang. The two men in the hall slumped back onto the bench as the colonel's raised voice thundered beyond the door "Ah, Jacques how did it come to this?" asked Lt Dumas-De Winter of his colleague. The other, gingerly shifting his bandaged arm as he sat down again, looked at Dumas-De Winter and said wryly "the same way these things always happen, Horatious; you jump into the fire and we come to pull you out".....  

Capitan Ernesto, capitan of His Majesty's Cazadores and 
noted wine enthusiast

    With a soft, sighing and satisfying pop the cork came out of the wine bottle's neck. Leaning across the table, Capitan Ernesto refilled both his glass and his prisoner's glass. With both glasses brimming he sat back, loosened his cravat then raised his glass to the young dragoon officer. "Salut, monsieur" he said. Dumas-De Winter raised his glass in response and they both drank; Ernesto taking a deeper draught than the young officer. "My men tell me you fought like a lion, monsieur; like a lion they said. That is why they spared you". He took another drink and continued "A brave dragoon officer who fights like a lion for a despotic emperor like many brave though misguided Frenchmen. But you are not French, monsieur; no, you are a Moor, non, a son of Africa! And yet you fight for the French who are not your brothers nor of your race; non? Why do you fight for this Napoleon; you would be better off joining us, your Spanish brothers. Here in Spain we still have many Moors".

     Dumas-De Winter sipped his wine then said "I am afraid you are mistaken, monsieur capitan. My father is a Frenchman as is my mother. I was born and raised in France; despite the colour of my skin I am a Frenchman through and through. The Emperor of France is a great man and is bringing the light of reason to you and your countrymen!! It is you who labours under a despot!" 

     Ernesto's cheeks reddened, matching his rosy nose and he slammed his now empty glass on the table "You forget yourself, monsieur!" he cried, rising to his feet and swaying slightly. The four infantrymen in the room with him tensed at the change in the atmosphere. "Your Emperor! roared Ernesto but his opinion on the French Emperor was cut short by a cry from one of the guards who was gawping at something outside the window "El Frances!! " he blurted then raising his musket butt to his shoulder he fired at something outside the window.....

Sgt Boyer and his men make a dash for the farmhouse

     Sgt Boyer looked at the Spaniard in hushed expectation. The Spaniard, Don Montaya, was studying a pocket watch he held in his hand. Under the canopy of the silent copse Sgt Boyer and his men knelt, muskets at the ready. Boyer looked once more towards the white farmhouse, dazzling in the sunlight. He and his men had been led to this copse by Don Montaya via a gully and they had been here for about an hour now waiting for Capitan de Cuisses Fermes and the rest of the rescue party to arrive. And now the time of their arrival was drawing close Sgt Boyer was feeling tense. This whole idea was madness but what was the alternative; to allow Lt Dumas-De Winter to be tortured by the Spaniards before meeting a horrific death? No! The capitan's idea was the only chance; when he and the rest of the troop rode up the track and inevitably drew the Spaniards to engage them, Sgt Boyer was to rush the farmhouse and free Lt Dumas-De Winter. In the upstairs window of the farmhouse he could see the Spanish officer moving to and fro, gesticulating. Boyer shuddered to think what horrors they were inflicting on Lt Dumas-De Winter. A soft whistle broke into his thoughts. Boyer looked around at Don Montaya. "They come, sergeant? he said. Boyer listened; sure enough, faintly enough but getting louder, as much felt as heard, came the distant drumming of hooves. "Right lads, lets go!" said the burly dragoon sergeant dashing from the copse as his men followed; the noise they made drowning out Don Montaya's cry of "Wait, sergeant; too soon!!"

Too soon! Sgt Boyer's men rush the farmhouse before the trap
is sprung

Showing his loyalties, Don Montaya moves up to support
Sgt Boyer's foolhardy dash

..and Corporal Aznavour and his men move around the
side of the building to engage the Spanish militia men

     "So, Capitan de Cuisses Fermes, once more you and your men exasperate me!!" thundered the colonel. "What in God's name possessed you to carry out such a hair brained, crass and idiotic scheme, eh? Do you think that we have the men and horses to spare for the sake of one foolish lieutenant, eh? What makes him so God damned special that you think it is alright to throw away the valuable resources of the Empire on one such man, eh?" Capitan de Cuisses Fermes made to speak but the colonel continued "I doubt even the Emperor would sanction such a scheme if it were his own brother; well? Come man, explain yourself!" de Cuisses Fermes said "Colonel.." but the colonel broke in "Do not tell me that this Dumas-De Winter is popular with the men; that will not wash with me, monsieur! No, by God, do you think we can throw such valuable resources after one imbecile who is foolish enough to get captured by the Spaniards!? If we do so we set a precedent and before you know it every such young idiot will be acting likewise and be expecting to be saved by us squandering valuable men and horses; men and horse that you know are well nigh impossible to replace here in this God forsaken land!!". The colonel paused to draw breathe and de Cuisses Fermes seized his chance "Mon colonel, I was compelled to act in this case. I have given my sacred oath to protect the lad". 

     The colonel looked keenly at the captain. "An oath!? Too protect "the Lad"?" he roared "what nonsense is this you speak off!?" de Cuisses Fermes, straightening up and taking a deep breathe blurted his response. " I have given my sacred oath to the lad...the lieutenant's mother, Lady De Winter, that I would protec...that I would keep an eye out for the lad..the lieutenant, sir. I could not go back on my oath. Surely as a gentleman you understand".

     The colonel slammed his fist down on the table, sending a snuffbox and its contents flying. "An oath! To Lady De Winter!!" he ejaculated "What is this nonsense, capitan!? You are a capitan of the Dragoons; your first oath and duty is to the Emperor and France!! Sacred oath for God sake!!" he fumed "You and your precious oath have cost us six good men as casualties and eight horses; eight horses that are worth their weight in gold in this God forsaken land!" 

     de Cuisses Fermes opened his mouth to speak but no words came forth. In his minds eye he could still see the Lady De Winter's beautiful bewitching face, her still slender neck and heaving bossom as he swore his oath to her in the garden at the ball in Paris the night before the dragoons had departed for Spain. 

      The colonel's still raised voice brought him back from that pleasant memory to the present. "You will wipe that smile from your face, capitan, or I shall break you!; you have a week to make good our losses in horse flesh. The replacement men you can do nothing about and fortunately for you reinforcements are on their way from Bayonne but they will need mounts; you will get them" 

     de Cuises Fermes gawped and made to reply but the colonel waved him away. "You have seven days, sir, to make good our losses; go now. And let me tell you this incident has not been forgotten" de Cuisses Fermes bowed slightly and left. The colonel sank back in his chair, exhausted. Lady De Winter, he thought and reaching into a waistcoat pocket he drew out a small portrait of a sensuous looking woman and recalled an evening with Lady De Winter the week before he had left for Spain...

de Cuisses Fermes leads his men in their diversionary action,
hoping to draw the guards away from the farmhouse

Grumbling, Capitan Infanta's men join the fray

    

     Capitan Infanta ignored the grumbling and groaning of his men as the shuffled their way to the top of the rise. He had been in command, if such men could be commanded, the thought bitterly, for three months now and it had been the saddest, most dispiriting three months of his life. A gentleman farmer and noted bull breeder, Infanta had volunteered to join the militia in the first week following the occupation of Spain by the French. 

     Full of patriotic fervour he had begun raising a battalion almost immediately but had so far only managed to put together about half a battalion from the surrounding towns and villages as other gentlemen farmers and local gentry had competed for men for their own militia battalions. And what men; if a war could be won by grumbling, complaining and avoiding any exertion then Infanta reckoned he could be an emperor himself. 

    As it was he and they had been sent by their general to fight the French alongside and under Capitan Ernesto and his Cazadores. The capitan to Infanta's disappointment was overly fond of the bottle and was not much use as a soldier now. Something to do with a lost or unrequited love he had been told. However Ernesto's second in command, Lieutenant Roberto, was a sound officer and he and Infanta had formed a friendship born of hardship under Capitan Ernesto's feckless leadership. Indeed, Lt Roberto practically ran the Cazadores company, Capitan Ernesto being nothing more than a figurehead, a very rough looking figurehead on the mornings that he occasionally appeared on parade, which thankfully wasn't often.

     And it was Lt Roberto, his sentries reporting the approaching enemy dragoons who had "suggested" to Capitan Infanta that he might like to take his men onto the hill they had reconnoitered a few days before and to "entertain" their unwanted guests and Infanta had happily fallen in with this scheme for he dearly wanted his men bloodied; he wanted them to taste battle and to kill Frenchmen in the name of Spain and so to bring his men to their sense of duty, to their sacred obligation to Spain. 

     And so they had set of to engage the enemy. Cresting the low hill, Infanta set about organising his men,. They, grumbling, questioning and complaining, were slowly got into line by which time the French dragoons were clearly visibly on the track before them. Infanta, wanting to run to the end of the front rank but forcing himself to walk, reached the end of the front rank, turned and cried out " First Company, ground arms!" two or three of the men went to lay down the muskets as the rest placed their musket butts on the ground. "Mother of God!" shouted the incensed Infanta as those two or three realised their mistake and copied the rest of the company.  

     Infanta continued with the musket drill orders till the men had loaded and raised their weapons.Looking quickly at the dragoons, Infanta had a sudden apprehension that they would be out of sight before he could fire so he hurried the rest of his orders "Front rank!Aim! Fire!" A deafening, ragged though pleasing volley followed. "Second rank fi.." but already the second rank were firing their ragged volley; this one less pleasing as the front rank were just beginning to load their muskets. Feeling bewildered, Infanta cried out "Front rank will reload!" and watched dumbfounded as muskets were raised to their firers shoulders and a very ragged volley spewed forth from those of the front rank who had quickly reloaded. Infanta swore then beginning to gather his wits he roared "Front rank cease firin..." as two or three shots were fired by the quicker of the men in the second rank..

     To the right of the farmhouse de Cuisses Fermes saw a troop of infantrymen march onto the brow of a low hill. Before the dragoons had gone a further hundred yards the infantrymen on the hill had loosed their first volley at the dragoons. de Cuisses Fermes heard a horse scream and the thud of a heavy body hitting the ground. Ahead of him he could see Sgt Boyer and his men already dashing towards the farmhouse. What was he thinking, the idiot. The plan was for Sgt Boyer to wait till de Cuisses Fermes to draw away the Cazadores before making a move towards the farmhouse. 

    "Capitan; Spanish cavalry to our right!" he heard the new lieutenant, Lebeau, call to him. de Cuisses Fermes looked in the direction indicated. Hell's teeth he was right thought de Cuisses Fermes. Already this rescue plan was looking like a bad idea.

     Slowing his horse, de Cuisses Fermes called over his shoulder to the lieutenant "Lt Lebeau, keep your men here and prepare to cover our withdrawal. If needs must, keep those Spaniards occupied"  Lebeau's brow furrowed and he made to question Capitan de Cuisses Fermes as to what he meant by "keep them occupied" meant but the captain had urged his horse on and was out of earshot by now.         Lebeau halted his men and swung them around to face the Spaniards; hussars he guessed, and there they waited. But not for long; as Lebeua chewed his lip, considering the capitan's order and what to make of it the hussars charged them. "Dragoons, draw swords!" cried Lebeau

The Spanish Hussars draw up and prepare to charge

...as Lt Lebeau and his men prepare to receive their charge

The hussars close...

after two bruising rounds of combat the hussars are thrown back

After being on the receiving end of some viciously accurate
fire from the Cazadores, Don Montaya, gravely wounded,
is led back into the shelter of the copse by the remainder of
his men

Capitan de Cuisses Fermes and his men close with the farm,
in an effort to assist Sgt Boyer's rescue party

     The burly dragoons bust through the rickety farm door. This room, a storeroom, was empty and they rushed through into the adjoining room which turned out to be a kitchen which was also empty. Spotting a stairway in the corner of the kitchen, Boyer cried "That way; up the stairs lads, while we have the element of surprise!"

    Above them, on the upper floor of the farm, Ernesto was shouting orders to the Cazadores in the room "Quickly you men; the stairway!" As they moved to obey him, Sgt Boyer appeared on the stairs at the head of his men. The Cazadores fired then rushed at the dragoons. 

     Sgt Boyer fell back, his bulky frame pushing back the men behind him. The two dragoons behind him fired their carbines over the now prostrate NCO at the Cazadores and were rewarded by the sounds of screams as one of their number pitched backwards. The dragoons grabbed Sgt Boyer and started dragging him back into the kitchen. One of them fell as a musket ball struck him on the head, his helmet flying off as he jerked backwards onto the floor. From the stairs came he sound of rushing feet as the Cazadores, encouraged by Capitan Ernesto, descended rapidly in pursuit of the Dragoons.

     Lieutenant Roberto ordered his men to reload. The dragoons had disappeared into the farmhouse and that loathsome swine Don Montaya and his men, those that weren't lying bleeding in front of the farm, had withdrawn into the copse from which they had emerged. Don Montaya was wounded, perhaps, no, hopefully mortally, for Roberto had saw him slump forward on his horse's neck before it was led away, one of Montaya's oafs propping up Montaya as they made their getaway. No matter, Roberto and his Cazadores would soon catch them. Roberto was just about to order his men forward when a troop of mounted French Dragoons thundered around the corner..   

de Cuisses Fermes men charge at the Cazadores..

Meanwhile Lt Lebeau has more things to ponder..

...Lancers,. Spanish Irregular Lancers

Mexican...I mean Spanish stand off...

but not for long as the Spanish irregulars, galloping forward,
crash into the Dragoons and put the indecisive Lebeau's men
to the lance and Lebeau and the remains ofhis command to
flight

      Lt Dumas-De Winter watched in amazement as the Cazadores followed by Capitan Ernesto disappeared down the stairs. He paused for a moment then made his way to the nearby window. It was open and looking out he saw a group of Dragoons outside, firing at an unseen enemy. "Corporal Aznavour!" he called, recognising the NCO in charge of the group " It is I, Lt Dumas-De Winter!".           The corporal looked up and smiled. "Hello sir, we are here to rescue you; will you come down and join us?". Dumas-De Winter smiled "Certainly corporal; it will be a pleasure; just one moment though" and he disappeared back into the room. Walking to the other side of the room and ignoring the commotion downstairs, Dumas-De Winter recovered his sword from the corner where it had been propped by one of his captors. He then made once more for the window, pausing only to finish his wine and to collect the three unopened bottles that sat on the table.  It wasn't a good wine by any stretch of the imagination but in this God forsaken land beggars could not be choosers. Throwing down the glass he leaned out of the window "Here Corporal Aznavour, catch these vital enemy supplies" and tossed the bottles to the NCO who caught them safely. 

    Dumas-De Winter then clambered through the window and jumped. The dragoon corporal cried "Well done, mon brave!" then ordering his men to cease firing he saluted the lieutenant. Corporal Aznavour then pointed in the direction of the copse and said "This way please, sir" Dumas-De Winter smiled and gave a small, theatrical bow "Certainly, Corporal Aznavour; please lead the way"

Corporal Aznavour and his men escort Lt Dumas De Winter to
safety. Beyond them, Sgt Boyer's men help him into cover

     "Move right! Move right lads! cried Lt Roberto, pushing his men out of the way of the dragoons and beyond the pond. The Dragoons wouldn't be able to reach them there. "Form up, skirmish order!" cried Roberto facing towards the Dragoons who were now sweeping past them towards the Cazadores encampment

The Cazadores move to a position of safety away from the
charging Dragoons.

     And there the game ended. The French side, having had three leaders wounded and two of their groups thrown back and a third routed, their force morale, at least on the surface, had fallen to zero, They were undaunted though as they had rescued the most popular officer in the squadron and to have him back in the fold was victory enough, damn the Spaniards and their superior morale.

    As ever it was a highly entertaining game. Both Allan and my die rolling was at best lamentable. Robert's bothersome ability to order Peter to roll 1s and Peter's equally galling ability to do just that was, well, bothersome and galling. The losses in French men and morale was easily compensated for by the sight of the much loved Lt Dumas-De Winter leaping to safety from the upper floor window.

     We employed some of David Hunter's cavalry tweaks for this game and the ability to move from the walk to the gallop in one turn certainly made the cavalry that bit more effective...if you were Spanish. The shock that the militia's firing managed to put onto de Cuisses Fermes dragoons made the difference between their charge at the Cazadores going home or not; in this case it didn't get home and the Cazadores were able to move out of the way and set themselves up for a flank shot.

     Thanks again to my erstwhile ally Allan and our opponents, Robert and Peter for such a spiffing game. And thanks once more to John Ewing for umpiring in the spirit of the game.

     The next and, possibly, final installment in this narrative campaign should be taking place on Monday and it promises to be another corker.

     And for those of you who are fans of Don Montaya, you will be pleased to hear that he survived and has almost completely recovered; amazing, ain't it. 

pip pip,

Jimbob