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Hussar in Winter

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Hussar in Winter
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Author(s): by Alexander Gordon
Date Published: 06/2006
Page Count: 188
Softcover ISBN-13: 978-1-84677-075-3
Hardcover ISBN-13: 978-1-84677-080-7

Alexander Gordon witnessed the Peninsular War against Napoleons French Army from the saddle of a light cavalry mount. His was a campaign of patrols and piquets, scouting and skirmishing. Caught up in the gruelling winter campaign that was the retreat to Corunna where the pressures of the constantly persuing French were made worse by the privations of short rations , appalling weather and difficult terrain, Gordon tells a story of fighting withdrawal, but never of defeat. These pages also bring to life the fury and action of the Napoleonic cavalry charge that was the ambition of every horse soldier. Hussar in Winter is an essential Napoleonic memoir for anyone interested in the British Cavalry.

Lord Paget immediately ordered us to form open column of divisions and trot, as the French, upon our coming in sight, made a flank movement, apparently with the intention of getting away; but the rapidity of our advance soon convinced them of the futility of such an attempt. They therefore halted, deployed from column of squadrons, and formed a close column of regiments, which, as it is their custom to tell off in three ranks, made their formation six deep. During the time the two corps were moving in a parallel direction, the enemy’s flankers, who came within twenty or thirty yards of our column, repeatedly challenged, “Qui vive?” but did not fire, although they received no answer. As soon as the enemy’s order of battle was formed, they cheered in a very gallant manner, and immediately began firing. The Fifteenth then halted, wheeled into line, huzzaed, and advanced. The interval betwixt us was perhaps 400 yards, but it was so quickly passed that they had only time to fire a few shots before we came upon them, shouting: “Emsdorff and victory!” The shock was terrible; horses and men were overthrown, and a shriek of terror, intermixed with oaths, groans, and prayers for mercy, issued from the whole extent of their front.

Our men, although surprised at the depth of the ranks, pressed forward until they had cut their way quite through the column. In many places the bodies of the fallen formed a complete mound of men and horses, but very few of our people were hurt. Colonel Grant, who led the right centre squadron, and the Adjutant who attended him, were amongst the foremost who penetrated the enemy’s mass; they were both wounded—the former slightly on the forehead, the latter severely in the face. It is probable neither of them would have been hurt if our fur caps had been hooped with iron like those of the French Chasseurs, instead of being stiffened with pasteboard.

It was allowed, by everyone who witnessed the advance of the Fifteenth, that more correct movements, both in column and in line, were never performed at a review; every interval was accurately kept, and the dressing admirably preserved, notwithstanding the disadvantages under which we laboured. The attack was made just before daybreak, when our hands were so benumbed with the intense cold that we could scarcely feel the reins or hold our swords. The ground was laid out in vineyards intersected by deep ditches and covered with snow. Our horses, which had suffered from confinement on shipboard, change of forage, and the fatigues of incessant marches in inclement weather, were not in their usual condition; and, as the commanding officer had neglected to halt the regiment during the march for the purpose of tightening their girths, they had become so slack that when we began to gallop several of the blankets slipped from under the saddles.

The French were well posted, having a ditch in their front, which they expected to check the impetus of our charge; in this, however, they were deceived. Lord Paget misjudged the distance or halted the Fifteenth too soon, by which means our right was considerably outflanked, and we outflanked their by a squadron’s length. It was said afterwards that he intended the left squadron should have remained in reseve to support the charge, but no explicit order to that effect reached us. After the horses had begun to gallop, indeed, the word of command, “Left squadron to support!” was passed from the centre, but so indistinctly that Major Leitch did not feel authorized to act upon it, and at that moment we were so near the enemy that it would have been difficult to restrain either the men or horses.

My post being on the left of the line, I found nothing opposed to my troop, and therefore ordered, “Left shoulders forward!” with the intention of taking the French column in flank; but when we reached the ground they had occupied, we found them broken and flying in all directions, and so intermixed with our hussars that, in the uncertain twilight of a misty morning, it was difficult to distinguish friend from foe.

Notwithstanding this there was a smart firing of pistols, and our lads were making good use of their sabres. Upon reaching the spot where the French column had stood, I observed an officer withdrawn from the melee. I followed, and, having overtaken him, was in the act of making a cut at him which must have cleft the skull, when I thought I distinguished the features of Lieutenant Hancox; and as I then remarked that he wore a black fur cap and a cloak which, in the dim light of the morning, looked like blue, I was confirmed in the idea that he belonged to our regiment. Under this impression, although his conduct in quitting the field at such a period struck me as very extraordinary, I sloped my sword, and merely exclaiming: “What, Hancox! is it you? I took you for a Frenchman!” turned my horse and galloped back to the scene of action. The shock I felt from the idea that I had been on the point of destroying a brother officer instead of an enemy deprived me of all inclination to use my sword except in defence of my own life; and the hostility I had cherished against the French only a few minutes before was converted into pity for them.

When I met with Hancox after the action, I found that he wore an oilskin cover on his cap, and was not the person I had followed, who, I conclude, was an officer of the grenadiers a cheval or compagnie d’elite, which attached to each regiment of dragoons in the French service and doubtless was much astonished at my sudden appearance and abrupt departure. For my own part, I shall always consider it a most fortunate circumstance that I was thus deceived, since I have escaped the feeling of remorse to which I should have been exposed had I taken that man’s life.
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