Send Me Safely Back Again Read Free Page A

that the general was nearer to seventy than sixty – there was the vigour and determination of a much younger man. Advancing years looked to have made the Spanish commander tough rather than frail. His words were positive, delivered in that rapid, deep tone that was so characteristically Spanish. Hanley translated quietly for Williams’ benefit, for his friend still understood little of the language. He noticed that Wickham was also paying attention to his explanations.
    ‘Marshal Victor is trapped with his back to the river. There is only the single bridge in Medellín and it will take time for all his guns and men to file across that narrow crossing. So he must fight, and when we beat him his army will have nowhere to go and will be destroyed. The only advantage the French have is in their horsemen. We have a river on either side of us, and they cannot sweep round our flanks. They can only come at us head on and meet our shot and steel.’
    The general swept his audience with a fierce, determined glance.
    ‘Honoured gentlemen,’ Hanley continued to translate. ‘The whole army will continue to attack.’ There were enthusiastic murmurs from the senior officers. ‘Urge your men on and lead them to victory. God is with us!’ A tall priest sat astride a donkey just behind the general, backed by a row of friars. All now bowed their heads in prayer. Many of the officers crossed themselves.
    ‘This is the beginning. When we smash Marshal Victor the road to Madrid will lie open. The atheists will be driven from the sacred soil of Spain and His Most Catholic Majesty Ferdinand VII restored to his rightful throne. The days of revolution and the rule of the mob are over. Spain will be restored. Let us take back what is ours.
    ‘Follow me to victory! For God, Spain and Ferdinand VII!’
    ‘For God, Spain and Ferdinand VII!’ The shout resounded as the officers, and even the grooms and servants, cheered. Hanley could not help joining in as the cry was repeated. ‘For God, Spain and Ferdinand VII!’ The other British officers cheered in their native fashion, although Williams’ enthusiasm was muted.
    ‘It is a little peculiar for a commander to explain his intentions at so late a juncture,’ he said quietly.
    ‘Perhaps for your army,’ said Velarde. Hanley had forgotten – if he had ever known – that he spoke good English. In Madrid they had always spoken in Spanish. ‘Not so peculiar for us, and especially for the lieutenant general.’
    Neither Williams nor Hanley showed any sign of understanding. Velarde lowered his voice so that they could barelyhear him. ‘In the last year Don Gregorio has faced an angry crowd determined to hang him if he did not do what they wanted, and since then he has led a revolution, failed, and been a prisoner.
    ‘The cry of “Treason” is a common one these days, and often fatal.’ That at least they knew. Spanish generals whose untrained and badly equipped armies had fled from the French had more than once been lynched by their own men. ‘These are dangerous days,’ Velarde continued unnecessarily. ‘But today we should win!’ His enthusiastic smile was back.
    ‘I trust your task is not urgent?’ asked Colonel D’Urban, leaning down to speak to Hanley.
    ‘No, sir, we are tasked with recovering stores.’ There was activity all around them. Spanish officers were changing to fresh mounts and some were already heading off bearing orders to the divisions.
    ‘Just the two of you?’ said Baynes archly. ‘Oh, and your man, of course,’ he added, and Williams could not help finding a little disturbing the ease with which everyone had ignored Dobson.
    ‘There are two companies of our battalion under the command of Captain Pringle, three days’ ride to the north. He sent us down to Badajoz in case the Spanish authorities there could help us. Instead they sent us here,’ explained Hanley, and then lowered his voice. ‘There was a particular concern that a magazine of shrapnel