Young bloods - Scarrow Simon (библиотека электронных книг txt) 📗

'Fire!'

The second volley rippled out in bright stabs of flame, more smoke, and a renewed chorus of screams and confusion.Again, the redcoats reloaded and then there was a short pause before Arthur heard Fitzroy's voice calling out from nearby.

'They're falling back!'

His words were greeted by a ragged chorus of cheers from the ranks.

'Silence!' Arthur bellowed. 'Silence there!'

The noise swiftly subsided and then Arthur heard for himself the sound of the enemy's withdrawal. He waited a moment longer, until the smoke had dispersed enough for him to be certain that it was true, and not some French ruse, before he gave the order for the regiment to continue falling back towards the edge of the village.The 33rd moved at a slow pace to ensure that the line was not disrupted, the sergeants concentrating their attention on keeping the lines dressed as they passed over broken ground.

It did not take long for the French to recover their nerve, reform their line and come forward again. This time the line was extended and fresh units were added to each end.Their intention was clear to Arthur as soon as he saw them approach once again. He turned to his adjutant.

'By God, they mean to flank us.'

'Flank us?' Fitzroy sounded alarmed, but he quickly swallowed, stiffened his back and tore his gaze away from the cavalry closing on the British line. 'Sir, what are your orders?'

Arthur gauged the distance. The cavalry were nearly a quarter of a mile off, and would charge the redcoats before they could take cover in the village. There was only one thing to do, even if it did require a dangerous change of formation and a far slower movement towards safety if the manoeuvre was carried out successfully. Arthur glanced back at the cavalry, already breaking into a trot. There was no time for further thought.

He took a deep breath and called out as calmly as he could, 'The 33rd will form square!'

Slowly – too slowly, it seemed – the line halted and the flanking companies folded back, as if hinged on the corners of the centre of the line that still faced the enemy cavalry. Then, finally the light and grenadier companies turned and completed the rear of the formation. Hardly a square, Arthur thought. More of a box, and the best protection infantry could afford in the face of enemy cavalry: an unbroken perimeter of bayonets that no horse could be persuaded to hurl itself against. As long as the perimeter remained unbroken the redcoats were safe. If the French managed to find a gap and exploit it, then the men of the formation were doomed.

The flat notes of the cavalry bugles blared out again and the riders forced their mounts into a charge at the oblong of British infantry. The horsemen on the wings steered their horses straight ahead, aiming to pass by the front face of the square, down the sides and then cut the 33rd off from the village – a simple plan, and effective provided they could eventually whittle down the infantry enough to force a break in the square.

This time Arthur held his fire until the hussars were much closer, intending to break the charge in one shattering volley.The hussars slowed momentarily as they negotiated the dead and injured of the first attack, and then flew at the British square.

'Fire!'

The same savage blast of fire and the same carnage as before, followed a moment later by more fire from the sides of the square as the enemy careered past, and several more of them were shot from their saddles or were crushed as their stricken mounts stumbled and rolled across them. There was a brief hiatus as the French cavalry reined in and reached for their firearms. Arthur seized the opportunity.

'The square will retire towards the village! Sergeants, keep the formation tight!'

As the sergeant major called the pace, the square crawled towards the village, one step at a time, not stopping to reload their weapons. Now the advantage passed to the enemy as the hussars drew their pistols and carbines and began to fire into the square at close range.The first of Arthur's men began to fall, some killed outright and left sprawled on the ground as their comrades stepped carefully over them. The injured were hauled into the centre of the square where the men of the colour party and the bandsmen did their best to carry them along with the square as it inched towards the village.

Even as Arthur watched, a hussar, not thirty feet away from him, raised his carbine, calmly took aim along the barrel and the muzzle foreshortened until the barrel became a dot, and Arthur realised with a sick feeling of fear that the hussar had picked him as a target.The Frenchman smiled, squinted an eye and pulled the trigger. The muzzle flashed and Arthur instinctively snapped his eyes shut and waited for the tearing agony of the impact. There was a cry from close by and he felt a body lurch against his boot. Arthur opened his eyes and looked down as a corporal slumped to the ground beside his horse, clutching at his throat, from which blood pumped out in thick jets. The man looked up in desperation and for an instant their eyes met and Arthur felt a horrified panic seize him as he beheld the dying man. Then he shook it off and spurred his horse on towards the front of the square, not daring to glance back at the mortally wounded soldier. Captain Fitzroy was walking his horse up and down behind the front face of the square, shouting encouragement to his men as they endured the sporadic fire from the hussars between the square and the village. At sight of Arthur he reined in and forced himself to smile.

'Hot work, sir.'

'Indeed.'Arthur flinched as a shot smacked into the face of one of the men in the leading company. 'We can't have this. They're hitting too many of our men. We must stop and reload.'

'Stop? Is that wise, sir. It'll give them time to bring up even more forces.'

'Maybe, but I'll not lose more men than I must.'

Arthur wheeled away and sought out the sergeant major. 'Halt the square and reload.'

'Yes, sir.' The sergeant major saluted, drew a breath and bellowed out the orders, bringing the regiment to a standstill. At once the redcoats reached for fresh cartridges and began the steady sequence of movements to ready their weapons.

'Fire by companies!' Arthur called out and a series of volleys flashed out from each face of the square, scything through the hussars who had been tormenting them only a moment earlier. A scattered outline of dead and dying soon formed a short distance from each side of the square with only a handful of shots from the enemy in reply. After several volleys the French sounded the recall and the remaining horsemen swiftly wheeled their mounts and galloped out of range.

'Cease fire! Cease fire!' Arthur pointed towards the nearest buildings. 'The regiment will retire towards the village.'

Once more the square slowly shuffled away from the enemy. This time the French did not intervene but shadowed the redcoats from just beyond effective musket range, ready to charge the moment the British formation was disrupted. However, the long months of monotonous drilling on parade grounds back in Britain proved their worth and the 33rd Foot gained the edge of the village. With buildings and fences to guard their flanks, the square formation was no longer required and Arthur was able to deploy one company across the narrow street as a rearguard while the others filed along the narrow thoroughfare towards the bridge.

Assured that his men were safe for the moment, Arthur turned his horse towards the bridge.The tail of the baggage train was still feeding across the narrow span, and some of the larger vehicles, too wide for the passage, had been unhitched from their draught animals and rolled down the steep bank into the river. Lord Moira and his small staff stood off to one side watching proceedings and looked round at the sound of Arthur's mount clattering across the cobbles of the village's market square.