Introducing Mrs. Collins
My darling Charlotte,
It is done. I am just now finding the strength to write.
The day of battle began strangely; a misty, grey morning, rather than the sunshine we have been used to.
It was a complicated strategy – Wellington really is to be admired.
We scoffed at first, but his elaborate plan was successful: a division into four columns—
I must halt myself. I am writing as if I just came home to you after finishing some business or other, sitting at our table and relating the particulars of my week and asking you for your counsel.
What an idea that is. Sharing our days together…
Allow me to pretend it for a while. Let us play that it has been a hard day, and I will tell you of it as if you were mine, and as if you were here, or I there.
We were with Wellington in the centre. My brigade advanced through the village of Nanclares, and after crossing the bridge at Villodas, we were, with great effort, able to drive the French from the hill.
My men were among the final push, in the late afternoon, which finally caused the French to retreat.
Once the order came down from Bonaparte, it was a spectacle.
How they ran! They dropped their weapons, their baggage and scattered back towards Vitoria.
It was so sudden – and then, it was done.
There is hope in the camp. We might be in France in a fortnight, and from there, our usefulness will be exhausted. We will be exhausted. Those of us who return.
I do not know what the end will bring. I might come home, for as much as that means.
Do you remember the home we built together, one evening at Rosings?
Vases on the mantelpiece, grounds that I might ride in – and chickens!
You said I would live with my horse. Perhaps I will; perhaps it will be Achilles, if he will have me.
When I return, I know not what my life will be, but I will not try to disturb you.
I do not want to bring you harm. But how I should wish to see you, even from afar.
I wish only to look on you, if that is all I am afforded.
When this is done, they will seek to commend us for the victories, but to see you again would be a greater reward than any medal.
I will write again after the next push.
I love you.
Yours, always,
RF