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perhaps,’ replied Williams, ‘although a similar formation is included in our drills and no doubt also in the Spanish. In most circumstances the Spanish form in a line of three ranks. It is solid, and allows the first and second ranks to fire their muskets. I am not certain whether the Spanish practice is for the third rank to fire as well. In some armies this is the custom, but in others it is not, and the men either wait to fill casualties or pass forward their loaded muskets to the men ahead of them.’
    Baynes was nodding and smiling encouragingly, although it was hard to believe that he did not already know these things. ‘And yet I perceive this line to be deeper. There are five – no, six – ranks at least.’
    ‘Yes, it is a line of double the normal thickness, and so six rather than three deep.’
    ‘To what end?’ The merchant guided his horse around the corpse of a man dressed in green jacket and grey trousers. His collar and cuffs were black and his belts were buff. His face had the familiar waxy pallor that left them in no doubt that he was dead. Williams had not seen anyone dressed in such a uniform in the Spanish Army, and guessed that the corpse was one of the enemy skirmishers.
    ‘It makes the formation more solid,’ he explained. ‘In addition the line is less wide, and so it is easier to maintain good dressing – I mean a certain neatness and order about the ranks and files – as it advances. The chief disadvantage is to reduce the number of men able to employ their muskets against the enemy.’
    ‘I see, I see.’ Ezekiel Baynes was beaming. ‘Yes, that is most clear. And in the circumstances of today, does this strike you as an appropriate formation? I hope I have used the military word correctly.’
    ‘Most exactly,’ said Williams, returning the warm smile. ‘Yes, I believe it may serve handsomely enough. The French have many cavalry, and young soldiers have a better chance of facing a cavalry charge if they are in deep formation.’
    The men of the closest Spanish battalion looked very young indeed, some no more than boys. A few men – mainly the older ones – had white uniform jackets with green front and facings. The rest had no more than white waistcoats.
    ‘And as an old campaigner, what do you think of our allies, Corporal Dobson?’ asked Baynes, readily including an ordinary soldier in their conversation.
    ‘They’ve plenty of pluck, your honour. Good lads, by the look of it, but most of them are still children.’ Williams saw the same ungainly movements in many of the Spanish infantry, whoheld their muskets in a way that looked awkward. ‘Could do with a few months of training to make ’em ready.’
    ‘Alas, I am sure that you are right,’ conceded Baynes. ‘Yet needs must at times like this.’
    ‘Oh, aye, sir, probably can’t be helped. Mistake to put everything in the shop window, though,’ added Dobson, who had also taken to the friendly merchant. Williams had seen the same thing, but was reluctant to voice open criticism of any general, even one of another nationality.
    ‘Well, I hope I understand selling goods, but confess I am at a loss,’ said Baynes, although his look was intent, and Williams half wondered whether his ignorance was feigned.
    ‘There is no reserve,’ explained the officer, emboldened to speak by the veteran’s frankness. ‘If one regiment fails then there are no fresh troops to plug the gap.’
    ‘Then we must pray that none fails.’ Baynes was clearly listening, and Williams was sure also comprehending, but nevertheless preserved his infectious optimism.
    The French battery opened fire in a rolling salvo. Williams guessed that there were around a dozen guns. The sound was less deep than the full boom of heavy cannon, which suggested lighter pieces, probably those used by the fast-moving horse artillery, and so most likely four-pounders.
    ‘Well, we had better see what is happening,’ said Baynes in a jolly tone, and immediately