Sharpe’s Eagle: The Talavera Campaign, July 1809

A second line of horsemen appeared. Sharpe opened the tube again and rested it on Pendleton’s shoulder. The French were making a dramatic appearance; two lines of cavalry, two hundred men in each, walking slowly towards the bridge. Through the lens Sharpe could see the carbines slung on their shoulders and on each horse there was an obscene lump behind the stirrup where the rider had strapped a netful of forage for his mount. He straightened up again and told Pendleton he could jump down.

‘Are they going to fight, sir?’ Like Lennox the young boy was eager for a brush with the French. Sharpe shook his head.

‘They won’t come near. They’re just having a look at us. They’ve nothing to gain by attacking.’

When Sharpe had been locked in the Tippoo’s dungeon with Lawford the Lieutenant had tried to teach him to play chess. It had been a hopeless task. They could never remember which chip of stone was supposed to represent which piece and their jailers had thought the scratched grid on the floor was an attempt at magic. They had been beaten and the chessboard scratched out. But Sharpe remembered the word ‘stalemate’. That was the position now. The French could not harm the infantry and the infantry could not harm the French. Simmerson was bringing the rest of the Battalion across the bridge, threading them past an exasperated Hogan and his excavation, but it made no difference how many men the allies had. The cavalry were simply too quick, the foot-soldiers would never get anywhere near them. And if the cavalry chose to attack they would be annihilated by the dreadful close-range volleys and any horse that survived the bullets would swerve away or pull up rather than gallop into the close-packed, steel-tipped ranks. There would be no fight today.

Simmerson thought otherwise. He waved his drawn sword cheerfully at Lennox. ‘We’ve got them, Lennox! We’ve got them!’

‘Aye, sir.’ Lennox sounded gloomy, he would have liked a fight. ‘Doesn’t the fool realise they won’t attack us? Does he think we’re going to lumber round this field like a cow chasing a fox? Damn it! We’ve done the job, Sharpe. We’ve mined the bridge and it’ll take an hour to get this lot back over.’