Random Shots from a Rifleman
by J. Kincaid · English · Gutenberg #44965 · 380,562 chars · public domain (US)
The Project Gutenberg eBook of Random Shots from a Rifleman
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: Random Shots from a Rifleman
Author: J. Kincaid
Release date: February 19, 2014 [eBook #44965]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44965
Credits: Produced by Brian Coe, Charlie Howard, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RANDOM SHOTS FROM A RIFLEMAN ***
ADVENTURES IN THE RIFLE BRIGADE
IN THE
PENINSULA, FRANCE,
AND THE
NETHERLANDS,
From the Year 1809 to 1815;
BY CAPTAIN JOHN KINCAID, FIRST BATTALION.
One vol. post 8vo. price 10_s._ 6_d._ boards.
"To those who are unacquainted with John Kincaid of the Rifles,--and
few, we trow, of the old Peninsula bands are in this ignorant
predicament, and to those who know him, we equally recommend the
perusal of his book: it is a fac simile of the man,--a perfect
reflection of his image, _veluti in speculo_. A capital Soldier, a
pithy and graphic narrator, and a fellow of infinite jest. Captain
Kincaid has given us, in this modest volume, the impress of his
qualities, the _beau ideal_ of a thorough-going Soldier of Service, and
the faithful and witty history of some six years' honest and triumphant
fighting.
"There is nothing extant in a Soldier's Journal, which, with so little
pretension, paints with such truth and raciness the "domestic economy"
of campaigning, and the downright business of handling the enemy.
"But we cannot follow further;--recommending every one of our readers
to pursue the Author himself to his crowning scene of Waterloo,
where they will find him as quaint and original as at his _debut_.
We assure them, it is not possible, by isolated extracts, to give a
suitable impression of the spirit and originality which never flag from
beginning to end of Captain Kincaid's volume; in every page of which he
throws out flashes of native humour, a tithe of which would make the
fortune of a Grub-street Bookmaker."--_United Service Journal._
* * * * *
"We do not recollect one, among the scores of personal narratives,
where the reader will find more of the realities of a Soldier's
Life, or of the horrors that mark it; all is told gaily, but not
unfeelingly."--_New Monthly Magazine, July._
* * * * *
"His book has one fault, the rarest fault in books, it is too
short."--_Monthly Magazine, April._
* * * * *
"His book is one of the most lively histories of Soldiers'
Adventures which have yet appeared; their entire freedom from
affectation will sufficiently recommend them to a numerous class of
readers."--_Athenæum._
* * * * *
"_Kincaid's Adventures in the Rifle Brigade_ is written with all the
frankness and freedom from study which bespeaks the gallant soldier,
one to whom the sword is more adapted than the pen, but who, as now
_cedunt arma togæ_, has, in these 'piping times' of peace, determined
to 'fight all his battles over again,' and he fights them in a style
interesting and graphic. The remarks on the decisive termination
of the Battle of Waterloo are striking and convincing; and to them
and the whole book we refer our readers for much amusement and
information."--_The Age._
* * * * *
"This is an excellent and amusing book; and although it neither gives,
nor pretends to give, lessons in strategy, or a true history of the
great operations of our armies, we hold it to be a very instructive
work. Napier, it is true, continues to be our textbook in the art of
war; but, even in his work, there is something awanting, something
which a due attention to historical etiquette prevents his conveying
to us. He shows most satisfactorily the talents of our generals, and
the _morale_ of our army; but there is an insight into its composition
which he cannot give us, and which, indeed, nothing can give but a wide
personal acquaintance with military men, and lots of volumes like the
present."--_Edinburgh Literary Journal._
* * * * *
"Il est rare que les aventures arrivées à un seul personnage et
racontées par lui intéressent le public au point de faire obtenir à ses
mémoires un véritable succès; mais il en est autrement quand l'auteur a
su habilement accompagner son histoire du récit de faits et d'événemens
qui ont déjá fixé l'attention publique. L'ouvrage du Capitaine Kincaid
est intéressant sous ces deux points de vue et sera favorablement
accueilli. En même tems qu'on suit avec plaisir la marche de ses
aventures, on recueille une foule de détails ignorés sur les campagnes
de 1809 à 1815."--_Furet de Londres._
RANDOM SHOTS
FROM A
RIFLEMAN.
BY J. KINCAID,
_Late Captain in, and Author of "Adventures in the Rifle Brigade."_
SECOND EDITION.
LONDON:
T. AND W. BOONE, 29, NEW BOND STREET.
M DCCC XLVII.
TO
MAJOR-GENERAL
LORD FITZROY SOMERSET, K.C.B.
&c. &c. &c.
THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED
BY HIS VERY OBEDIENT
AND VERY OBLIGED HUMBLE SERVANT,
J. KINCAID.
NOTICE.
When I sent my volume of "Adventures in the Rifle Brigade" into the
world, some one of its many kind and indulgent critics was imprudent
enough to say that "it had one fault, the rarest fault in books--it was
too short;" and while I have therefore endeavoured to acquit myself of
such an unlooked-for charge by sending this additional one, I need only
observe that if it also fails to satisfy, they may have "yet another."
Like its predecessor, this volume is drawn solely from memory, and of
course open to error; but of this my readers may feel assured, that
it is free from romance; for even in the few soldiers' _yarns_ which I
have thought fit to introduce, the leading features are facts.
Lastly, in making my second editorial bow to the public, let me assure
them that it is with no greater literary pretensions. I sent forth my
first volume contrary to my own judgement; but rough and unpolished as
it was, it pleased a numerous class of readers, and I therefore trust
to be forgiven for marching past again to the same tune, in the hope
that my _reviewing generals_ may make the same favourable report of me
in their orderly books.
ERRATUM.
Page 11, line 2, _for_ remarkable, _read_ remarkably.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Family Pictures, with select Views of the Estate, fenced with
distant Prospects 1
CHAP. II.
"No man can tether time or tide,
The hour approaches Tam maun ride."
And he takes one side step and two front ones on the road to
glory 11
CHAP. III.
An old one takes to his heels, leaving a young one in
arms.--The dessert does not always follow the last coarse
of--a goose.--Goes to the war, and ends in love 30
CHAP. IV.
Shewing how generals may descend upon particulars with a
cat-o'-nine tails. Some extra Tales added, Historical,
Comical, and Warlike all 44
CHAP. V.
The paying of a French compliment, which will be repaid in
a future chapter. A fierce attack upon hairs. A niece
compliment, and lessons gratis to untaught sword-bearers 79
CHAP. VI.
Reaping a Horse with a halter. Reaping golden Opinions out of
a Dung-Hill, and reaping a good Story or two out of the next
Room. A Dog-Hunt and Sheep's Heads prepared at the Expense of
a Dollar each, and a Scotchman's Nose 94
CHAP. VII.
"Blood and destruction shall be so in use,
And dreadful objects so familiar,
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quartered with the hands of war." 130
CHAP. VII.
The persecution of the guardian of two angels. A Caçadore and
his mounted followers. A chief of hussars in his trousers.
A chief of rifles in his glory, and a sub of ditto with two
screws in the neck 155
CHAP. VIII.
National Characters. Adventures of a pair of leather Breeches.
Ditto of a pound of Beef. Shewing what the French General did
not do, and a Prayer which he did not pray; with a few random
Shots. 176
CHAP. IX.
A bishop's gathering.--Volunteers for a soldier's love, with
a portrait of the lover.--Burning a bivouac. Old invented
thrashing machines and baking concerns.--A flying Padre
taking a shot flying 219
CHAP. X.
Shewing how a volunteer may not be what Doctor Johnson made
him.--A mayor's nest.--Cupping.--The Author's reasons for
punishing the world with a book.--And some volunteers of the
right sort 236
CHAP. XI.
Very short, with a few anecdotes still shorter; but the
principal actors thought the scene long enough 265
CHAP. XII.
Shewing rough visitors receiving a rough reception. Some living
and moving specimens thereof. Tailors not such fractions of
humanity as is generally believed. Gentle visitors receiving
a gentle reception, which ends by shewing that two shakes
joined together sound more melodiously on the heart-strings
than two hands which shake of their own accord 277
CHAP. XIII.
Specimens of target-practice, in which markers may become
marked men.--A grave anecdote, shewing "how some men have
honours thrust upon them." A line drawn between man and
beast.--Lines drawn between regiments, and shewing how
credit may not be gained by losing what they are made
of.--Aristocratic.--Dedicatic.--Dissertation on advanced
guards, and desertion of knapsacks, shewing that "the greater
haste the worse speed" 299
RANDOM SHOTS
FROM
A RIFLEMAN.
CHAPTER I.
Family Pictures, with select Views of the Estate, fenced with
distant Prospects.
Every book has a beginning, and the beginning of every book is the
undoubted spot on which the historian is bound to parade his hero.
The novelist may therefore continue to envelope his man in a fog as
long as he likes, but for myself I shall at once unfold to the world
that I am my own hero; and though that same world hold my countrymen
to be rich in wants, with the article of modesty among them, yet do I
hope to maintain the character I have assumed, with as much propriety
as can reasonably be expected of one labouring under such a national
infirmity, for
"I am a native of that land, which
Some poets' lips and painters' hands"
have pictured barren and treeless. But to shew that these are mere
fancy sketches, I need only mention that as long as I remember
anything, there grew a bonny brier and sundry gooseberry bushes in our
kail-yard, and it was surrounded by a stately row of pines, rearing
their long spinster waists and umbrella heads over the cabbages, as
carefully as a hen does her wings over her brood of chickens, so that
neither the sun nor moon, and but a very few favoured stars had the
slightest chance of getting a peep therein, nor had anything therein
a chance of getting a peep out, unless in the cabbages returning the
sheep's eyes of their star-gazers; for, while the front was protected
by a long range of house and offices, with no ingress or egress but
through the hall-door, the same duty was performed on the other three
sides by a thick quick-set hedge which was impervious to all but the
sparrows, so that the wondrous wise man of Islington might there have
scratched his eyes out and in again a dozen times without being much
the wiser.
My father was the laird and farmed the small property I speak of,
in the lowlands of Stirlingshire, but he was unfortunately cut off
in early life, and long before his young family were capable of
appreciating the extent of their loss, and I may add, to the universal
regret of the community to which he belonged; and in no country have I
met, in the same walks of life, a body of men to equal in intelligence,
prudence, and respectability, the small lowland Scotch laird.
Marrying and dying are ceremonies which almost every one has to go
through at some period of his life, and from being so common, one would
expect that they might cease to be uncommon; but people, nevertheless,
still continue to look upon them as important events in their
individual histories. And while, with the class I speak of, the joys
of the one and the grief at the other was as sensibly and unaffectedly
shewn as amongst any, yet with them the loss of the head of the house
produces no very material change in the family arrangements; for while
in some places the proprietary of a sheep confers a sort of patent
of gentility upon the whole flock, leaving as a bequest a scramble
for supremacy, yet the lowland laird is another manner of man; one in
fact who is not afraid to reckon his chickens before they are hatched,
and who suffers no son of his to be born out of his proper place. The
eldest therefore steps into his father's shoes as naturally as his
father steps out of them. The second is destined to be a gentleman,
that is, he receives a superior education, and as soon as he is deemed
qualified, he is started off with a tolerable outfit and some ha'pence
in his pocket to fulfil his destiny in one of the armed or learned
professions, while the junior members of the family are put in such
other way of shifting for themselves as taste and prudence may point
out. And having thus, gentle reader, expounded as much of my family
history as it behoveth thee to know, it only remains for me, with all
becoming modesty, to introduce myself to you as, by birthright, the
gentleman of the family, and without further ceremony to take you by
the hand and conduct you along the path which I found chalked out for
myself.
In my native country, as elsewhere, Dame Fortune is to be seen cutting
her usual capers, and often sends a man starving for a life-time as
a parson looking for a pulpit, a doctor dining on his own pills, or
as a lawyer who has nothing to insert in his last earthly testament,
who would otherwise have flourished on the top of a hay-stack, or as
a cooper round a tar-barrel. How far she was indulgent in my case is
a matter of moonshine. Suffice it that I commenced the usual process
at the usual place, the parish school, under that most active of all
teachers--Whipping,
"That's Virtue's governess,
Tutress of arts and sciences;
That mends the gross mistakes of nature,
And puts new life into dull matter."
And from the first letter in the alphabet I was successively flogged
up through a tolerable quantity of English, some ten or a dozen books
of Latin, into three or four of French, and there is no saying whether
the cat-o'-nine tails, wielded by such a masterly hand, might not
eventually have stirred me up as high as the woolsack, had not one of
those tides in the affairs of school-boys brought a Leith merchant to
a worthy old uncle of mine (who was one of my guardians) in search of
a quill-driver, and turned the current of my thoughts into another
channel. To be or not to be, that was the question; whether 'twere
better to abide more stings and scourges from the outrageous cat, or to
take the offer which was made, and end them.
It may readily be believed that I felt a suitable horror at the
sight of the leathern instrument which had been so long and so ably
administered for my edification, nor had I much greater affection for
the learned professions as they loomed in perspective, for I feared
the minister, hated the doctor, and had no respect for the lawyer, and
in short it required but little persuasion to induce me to bind my
prospects for the ensuing three years to the desk of a counting-house.
I therefore took leave of my indefatigable preceptor, not forgetting
to insert on the tablets of my memory, a promissory note to repay
him stripe for stripe with legal interest, as soon as I should find
myself qualified to perform the operation; but I need not add that the
note (as all such notes usually are) was duly dishonoured; for, when
I became capable of appreciating his virtues, I found him a worthy
excellent man, and one who meant for the best; but I have lived to see
that the schoolmaster of that day was all abroad.
The reminiscences of my three years' mercantile life leave me nothing
worth recording, except that it was then I first caught a glimpse of
my natal star.
I had left school as a school-boy, unconscious of a feeling beyond the
passing moment. But the period at length arrived when Buonaparte's
threatened invasion fired every loyal pair of shoulders with a scarlet
coat. Mine were yet too slender to fill up a gap in the ranks, and my
arm too weak to wield any thing more formidable than a drum-stick,
but in devotion to the cause I would not have yielded to Don Quixote
himself. The pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war had in fact
set my soul in an unquenchable blaze, and I could think of nothing
else. In reckoning up a column of pounds, shillings, and pence, I
counted them but as so many soldiers, the rumbling of empty puncheons
in the wine cellar sounded in my ears as the thunder of artillery,
and the croaking voice of a weasand old watchman at "half-past twelve
o'clock," as the hoarse challenge of the sentry from the ramparts.
My prospect of succeeding to the object on which I had placed my
affections were at the time but slender, but having somewhere read
that if one did but set his eye on any thing in reason, and pursued
it steadily, he would finally attain it, I resolved to adhere to such
an animating maxim, and fixing my heart on a captain's commission, I
pursued it steadily, and for the encouragement of youth in all times to
come, I am proud to record that I finally did attain it.
I returned to the country on the expiration of my apprenticeship, which
(considering the object I had in view) happened at a most auspicious
moment; for the ensign of our parochial company of local militia had
just received a commission in the line, and I was fortunate enough
to step into his vacated commission as well as into his clothing and
appointments.
I had by that time grown into a tall ramrod of a fellow, as fat as a
whipping-post--my predecessor had been a head and shoulders shorter,
so that in marching into his trousers I was obliged to put my legs
so far through them that it required the eye of a _connoisseur_ to
distinguish whether they were not intended as a pair of breeches.
The other end of my arms, too, were exposed to equal animadversion,
protruding through the coat-sleeves to an extent which would have
required a pair of gauntlets of the horse-guards blue to fill up the
vacancy. Nevertheless, no peacock ever strutted more proudly in his
plumage than I did in mine--and when I found myself on a Sunday in
the front seat of the gallery of our parish church, exposed to the
admiration of a congregation of milk-maids, my delight was without
alloy.
CHAP. II.
"No man can tether time or tide,
The hour approaches Tam maun ride."
And he takes one side step and two front ones on the road to glory.
It was a very fine thing, no doubt, to be an ensign in the local
militia, and a remarkably pretty thing to be the admiration of all the
milk-maids of a parish, but while time was jogging, I found myself
standing with nothing but the precarious footing of those pleasures
to stand upon, and it therefore behoved me to think of sinking the
ornamental for the sake of the useful; and a neighbouring worthy, who
was an importer and vender of foreign timber, happening at this time
to make a proposition to unite our fortunes, and that I should take
the charge of a branch establishment in the city of Glasgow, it was
arranged accordingly, and my next position therefore was behind my own
desk in that Wapping of Glasgow, called the Gorbals.
Mars, however, was still in the ascendant, for my first transaction
in the way of business was to get myself appointed to a lieutenancy
in one of the volunteer regiments, and, as far as I remember, I think
that all my other transactions while I remained there redounded more
to my credit as a soldier than as a citizen, and when, at the end of
the year, the offer of an ensigncy in the militia enabled me to ascend
a step higher on the ladder of my ambition, leaving my partner to sell
or burn his sticks (whichever he might find the most profitable), I cut
mine, and joined that finest of all militia regiments, the North York,
when I began to hold up my head and to fancy myself something like a
soldier in reality.
Our movements during the short period that I remained with them,
were confined to casual changes among the different stations on the
coasts of Kent and Sussex, where I got gradually initiated into all the
mysteries of home service,--learnt to make love to the smugglers' very
pretty daughters, and became a dead hand at wrenching the knocker from
a door.
The idleness and the mischievous propensities of the officers of that
district (of the line as well as the militia) were proverbial at the
period I speak of; but, while as usual the report greatly exceeded
the reality, there was this to be said in their behalf, that they
were almost entirely excluded from respectable society; owing partly,
perhaps, to their not being quite so select as at the present time,
(those heroes who had a choice of pleasures preferring Almack's to
Napoleon's balls,) but chiefly to the numbers of the troops with which
those districts were inundated during the war, and which put it out
of the power of individual residents to notice such a succession of
military interlopers, unless they happened to be especially recommended
to them; so that, as the Irishman expresses it--he was a lucky
cove indeed who in those days succeeded in getting his legs under a
gentleman's mahogany.
It is not therefore much to be wondered at, if a parcel of wild young
fellows thrown on their own resources, when that warlike age required a
larking spirit to be encouraged rather than repressed amongst them,--I
say, it is not to be wondered at if they did occasionally amuse
themselves with a class of persons which, under other circumstances,
they would have avoided, and if the consequences were sometimes what
they had better not have been--but the accounts between the man and
woman of that day having been long since closed, it is not for me to
re-open them, yet I remember that even that manner of life was not
without its charms.
The only variety in my year's militia life was an encampment on the
lines at Chatham, where we did duty on board the hulks, in the Medway.
My post was for the greater period with a guard on board the old
Irresistible, which was laden with about eight hundred heavy Danes
who had been found guilty of defending their property against their
invaders, and I can answer for it that they were made as miserable as
any body of men detected in such a heinous crime had a right to be,
for of all diabolical constructions in the shape of prisons the hulks
claim by right a pre-eminence. However, we were then acting under the
broad acknowledged principle, that those who are not for, are against
us, and upon that same principle, the worthy Danes with their ships
were respectfully invited to repose themselves for a while within our
hospitable harbours.
On the breaking up of our encampment at Chatham we marched to Deal,
where one of the periodical volunteerings from the militia, (to fill up
the ranks of the line,) took place, and I need not add that I greedily
snatched at the opportunity it offered to place myself in the position
for which I had so long sighed.
On those occasions any subaltern who could persuade a given number of
men to follow him, received a commission in whatever regiment of the
line he wished, provided there was a vacancy for himself and followers.
I therefore chose that which had long been the object of my secret
adoration, as well for its dress as the nature of its services and its
achievements, the old ninety-fifth, now the Rifle Brigade.--"Hurrah
for the first in the field and the last out of it, the bloody fighting
ninety-fifth," was the cry of my followers while beating up for more
recruits--and as glory was their object, a fighting and a bloody corps
the gallant fellows found it, for out of the many who followed Captain
Strode and me to it, there were but two serjeants and myself, after the
sixth campaign, alive to tell the tale.
I cannot part from the good old North York without a parting tribute
to their remembrance, for as a militia regiment they were not to be
surpassed.--Their officers _were officers_ as well as gentlemen, and
there were few among them who would not have filled the same rank in
the line with credit to themselves and to the service, and several
wanted but the opportunity to turn up trumps of the first order.
I no sooner found myself gazetted than I took a run up to London to get
rid of my loose cash, which being very speedily accomplished, I joined
the regiment at Hythe barracks.
They had just returned from sharing in the glories and disasters of Sir
John Moore's retreat, and were busily employed in organizing again for
active service. I have never seen a regiment of more gallant bearing
than the first battalion there shewed itself, from their brilliant
chief, (the late Sir Sidney Beckwith), downwards; they were all that a
soldier could love to look on; and, splendid as was their appearance,
it was the least admirable part about them, for the beauty of their
system of discipline consisted in their doing every thing that was
necessary, and nothing that was not, so that every man's duty was a
pleasure to him, and the _esprit de corps_ was unrivalled.
There was an abundance of Johny Newcome's, like myself, tumbling in
hourly, for it was then such a favourite corps with the militia men,
that they received a thousand men over their complement within the
first three days of the volunteering, (and before a stop could be
put to it,) which compelled the horse-guards to give an additional
battalion to the corps.
On my first arrival my whole soul was so absorbed in the interest
excited by the service-officers that, for a time, I could attend
to nothing else--I could have worshipped the different relics that
adorned their barrack-rooms--the pistol or the dagger of some gaunt
Spanish robber--a string of beads from the Virgin Mary of some village
chapel--or the brazen helmet of some French dragoon, taken from his
head after it had parted company with his shoulders, and with what a
greedy ear did I swallow the stories of their hair-breadth 'scapes and
imminent perils, and long for the time when I should be able to make
such relics and such tales mine own. Fate has since been propitious,
and enabled me to spin as long a yarn as most folks, but as some of
their original stories still dwell with much interest on my memory,
I shall quote one or two of them, in the hope that they may not prove
less so to my readers, for I am not aware that they have yet been
published.
ANECDOTE THE FIRST.
Of all the vicissitudes of the late disastrous campaign, I found that
nothing dwelt so interestingly on the remembrance of our officers as
their affair at Calcabellos--partly because it was chiefly a regimental
fight, and partly because they were taken at a disadvantage, and
acquitted themselves becomingly.
The regiment was formed in front of Calcabellos covering the rear of
the infantry, and on the first appearance of the enemy they had been
ordered to withdraw behind the town. Three parts of them had already
passed the bridge, and the remainder were upon it, or in the act of
filing through the street with the careless confidence which might be
expected from their knowledge that the British cavalry still stood
between them and the enemy; but in an instant our own cavalry, without
the slightest notice, galloped through and over them, and the same
instant saw a French sabre flourishing over the head of every man who
remained beyond the bridge--many were cut down in the streets, and a
great portion of the rear company were taken prisoners.
The remainder of the regiment, seeing the unexpected attack, quickly
drew off among the vineyards to the right and left of the road, where
they coolly awaited the approaching assault. The dismounted voltigeurs
first swarmed over the river, assailing the riflemen on all sides,
but they were met by a galling fire, which effectually stopped them.
General Colbert next advanced to dislodge them, and passing the
river at the head of his dragoons, he charged furiously up the road;
but, when within a few yards of our men, he was received with such a
deadly fire, that scarcely a Frenchman remained in the saddle, and the
general himself was among the slain. The voltigeurs persevered in
their unsuccessful endeavours to force the post, and a furious fight
continued to be waged, until darkness put an end to it, both sides
having suffered severely.
Although the principal combat had ceased with the day-light, the
riflemen found that the troubles and the fatigues of twenty-four hours
were yet in their infancy, for they had to remain in the position until
ten at night, to give the rest of the army time to fall back, during
which they had to sustain several fierce assaults, which the enemy
made, with the view of ascertaining whether our army were on the move;
but in every attempt they were gallantly repulsed, and remained in
ignorance on the subject until day-light next morning. Our people had,
in the meantime, been on the move the greater part of the night, and
those only who have done a mile or two of vineyard walking in the dark,
can form an adequate notion of their twenty-four hours work.
General Colbert (the enemy's hero of the day) was, by all accounts,
(if I may be permitted the expression,) splendid as a man, and not less
so as a soldier. From the commencement of the retreat of our army he
had led the advance, and been conspicuous for his daring: his gallant
bearing had, in fact, excited the admiration of his enemies; but on
this day, the last of his brilliant earthly career, he was mounted on
a white charger, and had been a prominent figure in the attack of our
men in the street the instant before, and it is not, therefore, to be
wondered at if the admiration for the soldier was for a space drowned
in the feeling for the fallen comrades which his bravery had consigned
to death; a rifleman, therefore, of the name of Plunket, exclaiming,
"thou too shalt surely die!" took up an advanced position, for the
purpose of singling him out, and by his hand he no doubt fell.
Plunket was not less daring in his humble capacity than the great
man he had just brought to the dust. He was a bold, active, athletic
Irishman, and a deadly shot; but the curse of his country was upon
him, and I believe he was finally discharged, without receiving such a
recompense as his merits in the field would otherwise have secured to
him.
ANECDOTE THE SECOND.
In one of the actions in which our regiment was engaged, in covering
the retreat to Corunna, a superior body of the enemy burst upon the
post of a young officer of the name of Uniacke, compelling him to give
way in disorder, and in the short scramble which followed, he very
narrowly escaped being caught by the French officer who had led the
advance,--a short stout fellow, with a cocked hat, and a pair of huge
jack-boots.
Uniacke was one of the most active men in the army, and being speedily
joined by his supporting body, which turned the tables upon his
adversary, he resolved to give his _friend_ a sweat in return for the
one he had got, and started after him, with little doubt, from his
appearance and equipment, that he would have him by the neck before he
had got many yards further; but, to his no small mortification, the
stout gentleman plied his seven-league boots so cleverly that Uniacke
was unable to gain an inch upon him.
ANECDOTE THE THIRD.
At Astorga, a ludicrous alarm was occasioned by the frolic of an
officer; though it might have led to more serious results.
The regiment was quartered in a convent, and the officers and the
friars were promiscuously bundled for the night on mattresses laid in
one of the galleries; when, about midnight, Captain ---- awaking, and
seeing the back of one of the Padres looking him full in the face,
from under the bed-clothes, as if inviting the slap of a fist, he,
acting on the impulse of the moment, jumped up, and with a hand as
broad as a coal-shovel, and quite as hard, made it descend on the
bottom of the astounded sleeper with the force of a paviour, and then
stole back to his couch. The Padre roared a hundred murders, and murder
was roared by a hundred Padres, while the other officers, starting up
in astonishment, drew their swords and began grappling with whoever
happened to be near them. The uproar, fortunately, brought some of the
attendants with lights before any mischief happened, when the cause of
the disturbance was traced, to the no small amusement of every one.
The offender tried hard to convince the afflicted father that he had
been under the influence of a dream; but the four fingers and the thumb
remained too legibly written on the offended spot to permit him to
swallow it.
ANECDOTE THE FOURTH.
When the straggling and the disorders of the army on the retreat to
Corunna became so serious as to demand an example, Sir Edward Paget,
who commanded the reserve, caused two of the plunderers to be tried by
a court-martial, and they were sentenced to suffer death. The troops
were ordered to parade in front of the town, to witness the execution,
but, while in the act of assembling, a dragoon came galloping in
from the front to inform Sir Edward by desire of his brother (Lord
Paget), that the enemy were on the move, and that it was time for
the infantry to retire. Sir Edward, however, took no notice of the
message. The troops assembled, and the square was formed, when a second
dragoon arrived, to say that the enemy were advancing so rapidly that
if Sir Edward did not immediately retire, his lordship could not be
answerable for the consequences. Sir Edward, with his usual coolness
and determination, said he cared not, for he had a duty to perform,
and were the enemy firing into the square, that he would persevere
with it. Dragoon after dragoon, in rapid succession, galloped in with
a repetition of the message; still the preparations went on, and by
the time they were completed, (and it wanted but the word of command to
launch the culprits into eternity,) the clang of the carabines of the
retreating dragoons was heard all around.
In the breast of Sir Edward, it is probable, that the door of mercy
never had been closed, and that he had only waited until the last
possible moment to make it the more impressive; and impressive truly
it must have been; nor is it easy to imagine such a moment; for,
independently of the solemn and desolate feeling with which one at all
times witnesses the execution of a comrade, let his offence be what it
may, they had an additional intensity on this occasion, on the score of
their own safety; for, brief as the span seemed to be that was allotted
to the culprits, the clang of the carabine, and the whistling ball,
told that it was possible to be even still more brief on the parts of
many of the spectators.
Sir Edward, however, now addressed the troops, with a degree of
coolness which would argue that danger and he had been long familiar.
He pointed out the enormity of the offence of which the culprits had
been guilty, that they deserved not to be saved, and that though the
enemy were now upon them, and might lay half their number dead while
witnessing the execution, that only one thing would save them, and that
was, "would the troops now present pledge themselves that this should
be the last instance of insubordination that would occur in the course
of the retreat?" A simultaneous "Yes," burst from the lips of the
assembled thousands, and the next instant saw the necessary measures
taken to check the advancing foe, while the remainder resumed their
retreat, lightened of a load of care, which a few minutes before had
been almost intolerable.
The conduct of these regiments, as compared with others, was very
exemplary during the retreat, although their duty, in protecting the
stragglers of the army till the last possible moment, was of the most
harassing kind. They had no means of punishing those to whom they were
indebted for their extra trouble, but by depriving them of their
ill-gotten gains, so that whenever a fellow came in with a bag of flour
under his arm, (which was no uncommon occurrence,) they made it a
rule to empty the bag over his head, to make him a marked man. Napier
says of them, that "for twelve days these hardy soldiers covered the
retreat, during which time they had traversed eighty miles of road
in two marches, passed several nights under arms in the snow of the
mountains, were seven times engaged with the enemy, and now assembled
at the outposts (before Corunna), having fewer men missing from the
ranks, including those who had fallen in battle, than any other
division in the army."[A]
[A] The foregoing story, I find, has just made its
appearance in a volume published by Lieutenant-Colonel
Cadell; but as this narrative was publicly noticed, as
being in preparation, prior to the publication of his,
I have not thought it necessary to expunge it.
I shall now, with the reader's permission, resume the thread of my
narrative.
CHAP. III.
An old one takes to his heels, leaving a young one in
arms.--The dessert does not always follow the last course of--a
goose.--Goes to the war, and ends in love.
In those days, the life of a soldier was a stirring and an active one.
I had not joined the regiment above a fortnight when the 1st battalion
received orders for immediate active service, and General Graham was
to make his appearance on the morrow, to inspect them prior to their
embarkation. Every man destined for service was to appear in the ranks,
and as my turn had not yet come, I was ordered, the previous evening,
to commence my career as a rifleman, in charge of the guard; and a most
unhappy _debut_ I made of it, and one that argued but little in behalf
of my chances of future fame in the profession.
My guard was composed of the Lord knows who, for, excepting on the back
of the sergeant, I remember that there was not a rag of uniform amongst
them. I was too anxious to forget all about them to think of informing
myself afterwards; but, from what I have since seen, I am satisfied
that they must either have been a recent importation from "the first
gem of the sea," or they had been furnished for the occasion by the
governor of Newgate;--however, be that as it may, I had some ten or a
dozen prisoners handed over to me; and as my eye was not sufficiently
practised to distinguish, in such a group, which was the soldier and
which the prisoner, I very discreetly left the whole affair to the
sergeant, who seemed to be a man of _nous_. But while I was dozing on
the guard-bed, about midnight, I was startled by a scramble in the
soldier's room, and the cry of "guard, turn out;" and, on running out
to ascertain the cause, the sergeant told me that the light in the
guard-house had been purposely upset by some one, and, suspecting
that a trick was intended, he had turned out the guard; and truly his
suspicions were well-grounded, although he took an erroneous method
of counteracting it; for, the sentry over the door, not being a much
shrewder fellow than myself in distinguishing characters in the dark,
in suffering the guard to turn out, had allowed some of the prisoners
to turn out too, and, amongst the rest, one who had been reserved for
an especial example of some sort or other, and whose absence was likely
to make a noise in the neighbourhood.
This was certainly information enough to furnish me with food for
reflection for the remainder of the night, and, as if to enhance its
_agreeable_ nature, the sergeant-major paid me a visit at daylight in
the morning, and informed me that such things did sometimes happen;--he
enumerated several cases of the kind in different regiments, and left
me with the consolatory piece of information that the officer of
the guard had on each occasion been _allowed_ to retire without a
court-martial!!! My readers, I am sure, will rejoice with me that in
this, as in other cases, there is no rule without an exception, for
otherwise they would never have had the pleasure of reading a book of
mine.
How I had the good fortune to be excepted on that occasion I never
found out; probably, in the hurry and bustle of preparation it was
overlooked,--or, probably, because they hoped better things of me
thereafter,--but my commanding officer never noticed it, and his
kindness in so doing put me more on the alert for the future than if he
had written a volume of censure.
Among the other novelties of the aforesaid guard-house on that
memorable night, I got acquainted with a very worthy goose, whose
services in the Rifle Brigade well merit a chapter in its history. If
any one imagines that a goose is a goose he is very much mistaken: and
I am happy in having the power of undeceiving him, for I am about to
show that my (or rather our regimental) goose was shrewd, active, and
intelligent, it was a faithful public servant, a social companion,
and an attached friend, (I wish that every biped could say but half so
much). Its death, or its manner of departure from this world, is still
clouded in mystery; but while my book lives, the goose's memory shall
not die.
It had attached itself to the guard-house several years prior to
my appearance there, and all its doings had been as steady as a
sentry-box: its post was with the sentry over the guard; in fine
weather it accompanied him in his walk, and in bad, it stood alongside
of him in his box. It marched with the officer of the guard in all
his visiting rounds, and it was the first on all occasions to give
notice of the approach of any one in authority, keeping a particularly
sharp look-out for the captain and field-officer of the day, whether
by day or night. The guard might sleep, the sentry might sleep, but
the goose was ever wide awake. It never considered itself relieved
from duty, except during the breakfast and dinner-hours, when it
invariably stepped into the guard-house, and partook of the soldiers'
cheer, for they were so devotedly attached to it that it was at all
times bountifully supplied, and it was not a little amusing, on those
occasions, to see how the fellow cackled whenever the soldiers laughed,
as if it understood and enjoyed the joke as much as they did.
I did not see Moore's Almanack for 1812, and, therefore, know not
whether he predicted that Michaelmas would be fatal to many of the
tribe that year; but I never saw a comrade more universally lamented
than the poor goose was when the news of its mysterious disappearance
reached us in Spain.
Our comrades at home, as a last proof of their affection, very
magnanimously offered a reward of ten pounds for the recovery of the
body, dead or alive; but whether it filled a respectable position in
a banquet of that year, or still lives to bother the decayed tooth of
some elderly maiden, at Michaelmas next, remains to be solved.
On the 24th of March, 1809, our first battalion received orders to
march at midnight for Dover, there to be united with the 43d and 52d
regiments, as a light brigade, under Major-General Robert Crawfurd,
and to embark next morning to join the army which was then assembling
in the Peninsula.
In marching for embarkation in those stirring times, the feeling
of the troops partook more of the nature of a ship's crew about to
sail on a roving commission, than a land-crab expedition which was
likely to prove eternal; for although one did occasionally see some
blubber-headed fellow mourning over his severed affections for a day or
two, yet a thorough-going one just gave a kiss to his wife, if he had
one, and two to his sweetheart, if he had not, and away he went with a
song in his mouth.
I now joined the 2d battalion, where we were not permitted to rest
long on our oars, for, within a month, we were called upon to join the
expedition with which
"The Great Earl of Chatham, and a hundred thousand men,
Sailed over to Holland, and then sailed back again."
As the military operations of that expedition do not entitle them to a
place in such an important history as mine is, I shall pass them over,
simply remarking that some of our companies fired a few professional
shots, and some of our people got professionally shot, while a great
many more visited Death by the doctor's road, and almost all who
visited him not, got uncommonly well shaken.
South Beeveland ultimately became our head-quarters. It is a fine
island, and very fertile, yielding about forty bushels of frogs an
acre, and tadpoles enough to fence it with. We were there under the
command of General W. Stewart, whose active mind, continually in search
of improvement, led him to try (in imitation of some foreign customs)
to saddle the backs of the officers with knapsacks, by way of adding to
their comfort; for he proved to demonstration that if an officer had a
clean shirt in his knapsack on his back, that he might have it to put
on at the end of his day's march; whereas, if he had it not on his own
back, it might be left too far back to be of use to him when wanted.
This was a fact not to be disputed, but so wedded were we to ancient
prejudices that we remained convinced that the shirt actually in wear,
with all its additions at the end of an extra day or two, must still
weigh less than the knapsack with a shirt in it; and upon those grounds
we made a successful kick, and threw them off, not, however, until an
experimental field-day had been ordered to establish them. The order
required that each officer should parade in a knapsack, or something
answering the same purpose, and it was amusing enough to see the
expedients resorted to, to evade, without committing a direct breach of
it. I remember that my apology for one on that occasion was slinging an
empty black oil-skin haversack knapsack-ways, which looked so much like
a newly-lanced blister on my back that it made both the vraws and the
frogs stare. The attempt was never repeated.
What a singular change did a short residence in that pestiferous place
work in the appearance of our army! It was with our regiment as with
others; one month saw us embark a thousand men at Deal, in the highest
health and spirits, and the next month saw us land, at the same place,
with about seven hundred men, carrying to hospital, or staggering under
disease.
I cannot shake off that celebrated Walcheren fever without mentioning
what may or may not be a peculiarity in it;--that a brother-officer
and I experienced a return of it within a day of each other, after a
lapse of five years, and again, within a week, after the lapse of the
following three years.
As my heart had embarked for the Peninsula with the 1st battalion,
although my body (for the reasons given) remained behind for a year,
I shall, with the reader's permission, follow the first, as being in
the more interesting position of the two; and although, under these
circumstances, I am not permitted to speak in the first person singular
until the two shall be again united, yet whatever I do speak of I have
heard so often and so well authenticated, that I am enabled to give it
with the same confidence as if I had been an eye-witness.
"A LAY OF LOVE FOR LADY BRIGHT."
Lisbon was doubtless as rich in abominations now as it was a year
after, without any other redeeming virtue, which is a very ugly
commencement to a tale of love; but having landed my reader a second
time at the same place, I am anxious to relieve him from the fear of
being treated to a second edition of the same story, and to assure him
that my head-piece has been some time charged with fresh ammunition and
I mean to discharge it now, to prevent its getting rusty. I intend to
fight those battles only that I never fought before, galloping over the
ground lightly, and merely halting to give a little of my conversation,
such as it is, whenever I have anything new to tell; and as I have
no idea of enduring the fatigues of the march to Talavera, nor the
pleasures of fattening on the dinners of chopped straw which followed
it, I shall leave my regiment to its fate until its return to the north
of Portugal, and take advantage of the repose it affords to make my
editorial bow with all due deference to my fair and lovely readers,
to express my joy that I have been once more enabled to put myself in
communion with them, and to assure them of my continued unbounded love
and admiration, for I feel and have ever felt that the man who gave
frailty the name of woman was a blockhead, and must have been smarting
under some unsuccessful bit of the tender, for I have met her in the
bower and in the battle, and have ever found her alike admirable in
both! That old fool Shakspeare, too, having only a man's courage to
meet a sprite with! Had he but told Macbeth to dare as woman dared, he
would have seen the ghost of Banquo vanish into the witches' kettle in
the twinkling of a wheelbarrow; for although I have never seen a woman
kick the bucket, I have certainly seen her kick every thing else, and
in fact there is nothing in the heroics that I have not seen her do.
See her again when she descends into herself, and it is very odd if I
have not seen her there too! for no man has ever been so often or so
deep in love as I have--my poor heart has been lacerated, torn, and
finally scorched until it is withered up like a roasted potato with
scarcely the size of a kiss left.
How it was that I did not find myself dangling at a door-post by the
end of a silk handkerchief some odd morning is to me astonishing, but
here I am, living and loving still as fondly as ever. Prudence at this
moment whispers that I have said enough for the present, for if I go
on making love so fiercely thus early in the day, I shall be forced
to marry the whole sex and bring my book to a premature conclusion,
for which posterity would never forgive me. I must therefore for the
present take a most reluctant leave, with a promise of renewing my
courtship from time to time as opportunities offer, if they will but
good-naturedly follow me through the various scenes into which I am
about to conduct them; and while I do my best to amuse them by the
way, should I unintentionally dive so deeply into the pathetic as to
beguile them of a tear, let me recommend them to wipe it away, for it
is only their smiles I court.
While on the way to join the light division on the northern frontier,
I shall take the opportunity of introducing the reader to their
celebrated commander, the late Major-General Robert Crawfurd, an
officer who, for a length of time, was better known than liked, but
like many a gem of purer ray his value was scarcely known until lost.
CHAP. IV.
Shewing how generals may descend upon particulars with a
cat-o'-nine tails. Some extra Tales added. Historical, Comical,
and Warlike all.
Crawfurd was no common character. He, like a gallant cotemporary
of his, was not born to be a great general, but he certainly was a
distinguished one,--the history of his division and the position
which he held beyond the Coa in 1810, attest the fact. He had neither
judgement, temper, nor discretion to fit him for a chief, and as a
subordinate he required to be held with a tight rein, but his talents
as a general of division were nevertheless of the first order. He
received the three British regiments under his command, finished by
the hands of a master in the art, Sir John Moore, and, as regiments,
they were faultless; but to Crawfurd belonged the chief merit of making
them the war brigade which they became, alike the admiration of their
friends and foes. How he made them so I am about to show, but how such
another is to be made now that his system has fallen into disrepute,
will be for futurity to determine.
I think I see a regiment of those writers who are just now taking
the cat by the tail, parading for a day's march under that immortal
chief--that he furnishes them with an ink-bottle for a canteen, fills
their knapsacks with foolscap, their mouths with mouldy biscuit, and
starts them off with sloped pens. They go along with the buoyancy of
a corps of reporters reconnoitring for a memorandum, and they very
quickly catch one and a Tartar to the bargain, for the monotony of the
road is relieved by the crossing of a fine broad stream, and over the
stream is a very fine plank to preserve the polish of Warren's jet on
the feet of the pedestrian--they all jump gaily towards the plank, but
they are pulled up by a grim gentleman with a drawn sword, who, with a
voice of thunder, desires them to keep their ranks and march through
the stream. Well! this is all mighty pleasant, but now that they are up
to their middles in the water, there surely can be no harm in stopping
half a minute to lave a few handfuls of it into their parched mouths.
I think I see the astonishment of their editorial nerves when they
find a dozen lashes well bestowed _a posteriori_ upon each, by way of
their further refreshment and clearing off scores for that portion of
the day's work (for the General was a man who gave no credit on those
occasions). He had borrowed a leaf from the history of the land-crabs,
and suffered neither mire nor water to disturb the order of his march
with impunity.
Now I daresay he would have had to flog an editor a dozen times before
he had satisfied him that it was to his advantage; but a soldier is
open to conviction, and such was the manner of making one of the finest
and most effective divisions that that or any other army ever saw.
Where soldiers are to be ruled, there is more logic in nine tails of a
cat than in the mouths of a hundred orators; it requires very little
argument to prove, and I'll defy the most eloquent preacher, (with the
unknown tongue to boot,) to persuade a regiment to ford a river where
there is a bridge to conduct them over dry-shod, or to prevent them
drinking when they are in that river if they happen to feel thirsty,
let him promise them what he will as a reward for their obedience. It
is like preaching to his own flock on the subject of their eternal
welfare (and I make the comparison with all due reverence); they
would all gladly arrive at the end he aims at, but at the same time
how few will take the necessary steps to do so, and how many prefer
their momentary present enjoyment? So it was with the soldiers, but
with this difference, that Crawfurd's cat forced them to take the
right road whether they would or no, and the experiment once made
carried conviction with it, that the comfort of every individual
in the division materially depended on the rigid exaction of his
orders, for he shewed that on every ordinary march he made it a rule
to halt for a few minutes every third or fourth mile, (dependent on
the vicinity of water,) that every soldier carried a canteen capable
of containing two quarts, and that if he only took the trouble to
fill it before starting, and again, if necessary, at every halt, it
contained more than he would or ought to drink in the interim; and that
therefore every pause he made in a river for the purpose of drinking
was disorderly, because a man stopping to drink delayed the one behind
him proportionately longer, and so on progressively to the rear of the
column.
In like manner the filing past dirty or marshy parts of the road in
place of marching boldly through them or filing over a plank or narrow
bridge in place of taking the river with the full front of their column
in march, he proved to demonstration on true mathematical principles,
that with the numbers of those obstacles usually encountered on a
day's march, it made a difference of several hours in their arrival at
their bivouac for the night. That in indulging by the way, they were
that much longer labouring under their load of arms, ammunition, and
necessaries, besides bringing them to their bivouac in darkness and
discomfort; it very likely, too, got them thoroughly drenched with
rain, when the sole cause of their delay had been to avoid a partial
wetting, which would have been long since dried while seated at ease
around their camp-fires; and if this does not redeem Crawfurd and his
cat, I give it up.
The general and his divisional code, as already hinted at, was at first
much disliked; probably, he enforced it, in the first instance, with
unnecessary severity, and it was long before those under him could rid
themselves of that feeling of oppression which it had inculcated upon
their minds. It is due, however, to the memory of the gallant general
to say that punishment for those disorders was rarely necessary after
the first campaign; for the system, once established, went on like
clock-work, and the soldiers latterly became devotedly attached to him;
for while he exacted from them the most rigid obedience, he was, on
his own part, keenly alive to every thing they had a right to expect
from him in return, and woe befel the commissary who failed to give a
satisfactory reason for any deficiencies in his issues. It is stated
that one of them went to the commander-in-chief to complain that he had
been unable to procure bread for the light division, and that General
Crawfurd had threatened that if they were not supplied within a given
time, he would put him in the guard-house. "Did he?" said his lordship;
"then I would recommend you to find the bread, for if he said so, by
----, he'll do it!"
Having in this chapter flogged every man who had any shadow of claim to
such a distinction, I shall now proceed and place myself along with my
regiment to see that they prove themselves worthy of the _pains_ taken
in their instruction.
From the position which the light division then held, their commander
must have been fully satisfied in his own mind that their military
education had not been neglected, for _certes_ it required every man
to be furnished with a clear head, a bold heart, and a clean pair of
heels--all three being liable to be put in requisition at any hour by
day or night. It was no place for reefing topsails and making all snug,
but one which required the crew to be constantly at quarters; for,
unlike their nautical brethren, the nearer a soldier's shoulders are to
the rocks the less liable he is to be wrecked--and there they had more
than enough of play in occupying a front of twenty-five miles with that
small division and some cavalry. The chief of the 1st German hussars
meeting our commandant one morning, "Well, Colonel," says the gallant
German in broken English, "how you do?" "O, tolerably well, thank you,
considering that I am obliged to sleep with one eye open." "By Gott,"
says the other, "I never sleeps at all."
Colonel Beckwith at this time held the pass of Barba del Puerco with
four companies of the Rifles, and very soon experienced the advantage
of having an eye alive, for he had some active neighbours on the
opposite side of the river who had determined to beat up his quarters
by way of ascertaining the fact.
The _Padrè_ of the village, it appeared, was a sort of vicar of Bray,
who gave information to both sides so long as accounts remained pretty
equally balanced between them, but when the advance of the French
army for the subjugation of Portugal became a matter of certainty, he
immediately chose that which seemed to be the strongest, and it was not
ours.
The _Padrè_ was a famous hand over a glass of grog, and where
amusements were so scarce, it was good fun for our youngsters to make a
_Padrè_ glorious, which they took every opportunity of doing; and as is
not unusual with persons in that state, (laymen as well as _Padrès_,)
he invariably fancied himself the only sober man of the party, so that
the report was conscientiously given when he went over to the French
General Ferey, who commanded the division opposite, and staked his
reputation as a _Padrè_, that the English officers in his village were
in the habit of getting blind drunk every night, and that he had only
to march over at midnight to secure them almost without resistance.
Ferey was a bold enterprising soldier, (I saw his body in death after
the battle of Salamanca); he knew to a man the force of the English
in the village, and probably did not look upon the attempt as very
desperate were they even at their posts ready to receive him; but
as the chances seemed to be in favour of every enemy's head being
"nailed to his pillow," the opportunity was not to be resisted, and
accordingly, at midnight on the 19th of March, he assembled his force
silently at the end of the bridge. The shadows of the rocks which
the rising moon had just cast over the place prevented their being
seen, and the continuous roar of the mountain torrent, which divided
them, prevented their being heard even by our double sentry posted
at the other end of the bridge within a few yards of them. Leaving a
powerful support to cover his retreat in the event of a reverse, Ferey
at the head of six hundred chosen grenadiers burst forth so silently
and suddenly, that, of our double sentry on the bridge, the one was
taken and the other bayonetted without being able to fire off their
pieces. A sergeant's party higher up among the rocks had just time to
fire off as an alarm, and even the remainder of the company on picquet
under O'Hare had barely time to jump up and snatch their rifles when
the enemy were among them. O'Hare's men, however, though borne back
and unable to stop them for an instant, behaved nobly, retiring in
a continued hand-to-hand personal encounter with their foes to the
top of the pass, when the remaining companies under Sidney Beckwith
having just started from their sleep, rushed forward to their support,
and with a thundering discharge, tumbled the attacking column into
the ravine below, where, passing the bridge under cover of the fire
of their supporting body, they resumed their former position, minus
a considerable number of their best and bravest. The colonel, while
urging the fight, observed a Frenchman within a yard or two, taking
deliberate aim at his head. Stooping suddenly down and picking up a
stone, he immediately shyed it at him, calling him at the same time
a "scoundrel, to get out of that." It so far distracted the fellow's
attention that while the gallant Beckwith's cap was blown to atoms, the
head remained untouched.
The whole concern was but the affair of a few minutes, but we
nevertheless looked upon it as no inconsiderable addition to our
regimental feather, for the appointed alarm post of one of the
companies had carried it to a place where it happened that they were
not wanted, so that there were but three companies actually engaged;
and therefore with something less than half their numbers they had
beaten off six hundred of the _élite_ of the French army. But our chief
pride arose from its being the first and last night-attempt which the
enemy ever made to surprise a British post in that army.
Of the worthy pastor I never heard more--I know not whether the bold
Ferey paid the price of the information he had brought, in gold, or
with an ounce of lead; but certain it is that his flock were without
ghostly consolation during the remainder of our sojourn--not that it
was much sought after at that particular time, for the village damsels
had already begun running up a score of _peccadillos_, and it was of
little use attempting to wipe it out until the final departure of their
heretical visitors.
Among the wounded who were left on the field by the enemy, there was a
French sergeant whom I have often heard our officers speak of with much
admiration--he was a fine handsome young fellow, alike romantic in his
bravery, and in devotion to his emperor and his country--he had come
on with the determination to conquer or to die, and having failed in
the first, he seemed resolved not to be balked in the other, which a
ball through a bad part of the thigh had placed him in the high road
for, and he, therefore, resisted every attempt to save him, with the
utmost indignation, claiming it as a matter of right to be allowed to
die on the field where he had fallen. Our good, honest, rough diamonds,
however, who were employed in collecting the wounded, were equally
determined that the point in dispute should only be settled between him
and the doctor in the proper place, and accordingly they shouldered him
off to the hospital whether he would or no. But even there he continued
as untameable as a hyena--his limb was in such a state that nothing but
amputation could save his life--yet nothing would induce him to consent
to it--he had courage to endure any thing, but nothing could reconcile
him to receive any thing but blows from his enemies. I forget how, or
in what way, the amputation of the limb was at length accomplished. To
the best of my recollection death had already laid a hand upon him,
and it was done while he was in a state of insensibility. But be that
as it may, it was done, and the danger and the fit of heroics having
travelled with the departed limb, he lived to thank his preservers
for the brotherly kindness he had experienced at their hands, and
took a grateful and affectionate farewell of them when his health was
sufficiently restored to permit his being removed to the care of his
countrymen.
Shortly after this affair at Barba del Puerco the French army under
Massena came down upon Ciudad Rodrigo, preparatory to the invasion of
Portugal, and obliged the light division to take up a more concentrated
position.
It is not my intention to take notice of the movements of the army
further than is necessary to illustrate the anecdotes I relate; but
I cannot, on this occasion, resist borrowing a leaf out of Napier's
admirable work, to shew the remarkable state of discipline which those
troops had been brought to--for while I have no small portion of
personal vanity to gratify in recording the fact of my having been for
many years after an associate in all the enterprises of that gallant
band, I consider it more particularly a duty which every military
writer owes to posterity, (be his pretensions great or humble,) to shew
what may be effected in that profession by diligence and perseverance.
The light division, and the cavalry attached to it, was at this period
so far in advance of every other part of the army that their safety
depended on themselves alone, for they were altogether beyond the reach
of human aid--their force consisted of about four thousand infantry,
twelve hundred cavalry, and a brigade of horse artillery--and yet
with this small force did Crawfurd, trusting to his own admirable
arrangements, and the surprising discipline of his troops, maintain
a position which was no position, for three months, within an hour's
march of six thousand horsemen, and two hours' march from sixty
thousand infantry, of a brave, experienced, and enterprising enemy, who
was advancing in the confidence of certain victory.
Napier says, "His situation demanded a quickness and intelligence in
the troops, the like of which has seldom been known. Seven minutes
sufficed for the division to get under arms in the middle of the
night, and a quarter of an hour, night or day, to bring it in order of
battle to the alarm posts, with the baggage loaded and assembled at a
convenient distance in the rear. And this not upon a concerted signal,
or as a trial, but at all times, and certain!"
"In peace love tunes the shepherd's reed;
In war he mounts the warrior's steed."
And thus, in humble imitation of her master-man, did Mother Coleman,
one fine morning, mount her donkey, and join her French lover to war
against her lord.
While the troops of the light division, as already noticed, were
strutting about with the consciousness of surpassing excellence,
menacing and insulting a foe for which their persons' knapsacks and all
would barely have sufficed for a luncheon--a dish of mortification was
served up for those of our corps, by the hands of their better half,
which was not easy of digestion. To speak of the wife of a regiment
is so very unusual as to imply that she must have been some very
great personage--and without depriving her of the advantage of such a
magnificent idea, I shall only say that she was the only wife they had
got--for they landed at Lisbon with eleven hundred men and only one
woman.
By what particular virtues she had attained such a dignified position
among them, I never clearly made out, further than that she had arrived
at years of discretion, was what is commonly called a useful woman, and
had seen some service. She was the wife of a sturdy German, who plyed
in the art of shoemaking, whenever his duties in the field permitted
him to resort to that species of amusement, so that it appeared that
she had beauty enough to captivate a cobbler, she had money enough
to command the services of a jackass, and finally she proved she
had wit enough to sell us all, which she did the first favourable
opportunity--for, after plying for some months at the tail of her
donkey at the tail of the regiment, and fishing in all the loose
dollars which were floating about in gentlemen's pockets, (by those
winning ways which ladies know so well how to use when such favourable
opportunities offer,) she finally bolted off to the enemy, bag and
baggage, carrying away old Coleman's all and awl.
It was one of those French leave-takings which man is heir to, but we
eventually got over it, under the deepest obligation all the time for
the sympathy manifested by our friends of the 43d and 52d.
The movements of the enemy were at length unshackled by the fall of
Ciudad Rodrigo, after a desperate defence, which gave immortal glory to
its old governor Herrasti, and his brave Spanish garrison--and although
it may appear that I am saying one word in honour of the Spaniards
for the purpose of giving two to the British, yet my feelings are too
national to permit me to pass over a fact which redounds so much to
the glory of our military history--namely, that in this, the year
1810, the French were six weeks in wresting from the Spaniards the same
fortress which we, in the year 1812, carried, with fire and sword, out
of the hands of the French in eleven days!
Now that the enemy's movements were unshackled, the cloud, which for
months had been gathering over Portugal, began to burst--and, sharp as
Crawfurd and his division looked before, it now behoved them to look
somewhat sharper. Had he acted in conformity with his instructions,
he had long ere this been behind the Coa, but deeply enamoured of his
separate command as ever youth was of his mistress, he seemed resolved
that nothing but force should part them; and having gradually given
ground, as necessity compelled, the 23d of July found him with his
back on the river, and his left resting on the fortress of Almeida,
determined to abide a battle, with about five thousand men of all arms
to oppose the whole French army.
I shall leave to abler pens the description of the action that
followed, and which (as might have been foreseen, while it was highly
honourable to the officers and troops engaged) ended in their being
driven across the Coa with a severe loss. My business is with a youth
who had the day before joined the division. The history of his next
day's adventure has beguiled me of many a hearty laugh, and although
I despair of being able to communicate it to my readers with any
thing like the humour with which I received it from an amiable and
gallant friend, yet I cannot resist giving it such as it rests on my
remembrance.
Mr. Rogers, as already stated, had, the day before, arrived from
England, as an officer of one of the civil departments attached to the
light division, and as might be expected on finding himself all at
once up with the outposts of the army, he was full of curiosity and
excitement. Equipped in a huge cocked hat, and a hermaphrodite sort
of scarlet coat, half military and half civil, he was dancing about
with his budget of inquiries, when chance threw him in the way of the
gallant and lamented Jock Mac Culloch, at the time a lieutenant in the
Rifles, and who was in the act of marching off a company to relieve one
of the picquets for the night.
Mac Culloch, full of humour, seeing the curiosity of the fresh arrival,
said, "Come, Rogers, my boy, come along with me, you shall share my
beefsteak, you shall share my boat-cloak, and it will go hard with me
but you shall see a Frenchman, too, before we part in the morning."
The invitation was not to be resisted, and away went Rogers on the spur
of the moment.
The night turned out a regular Tam o'Shanter's night, or, if the reader
pleases, a Wellington night, for it is a singular fact that almost
every one of his battles was preceded by such a night;--the thunder
rolled, the lightning flashed, and all the fire-engines in the world
seemed playing upon the lightning, and the devoted heads of those
exposed to it. It was a sort of night that was well calculated to be
a damper to a bolder spirit than the one whose story I am relating;
but he, nevertheless, sheltered himself as he best could, under the
veteran's cloak, and put as good a face upon it as circumstances would
permit.
As usual, an hour before day-break, Mac Culloch, resigning the
boat-cloak to his dosing companion, stood to his arms, to be ready for
whatever changes daylight might have in store for him: nor had he to
wait long, for day had just begun to dawn when the sharp crack from
the rifle of one of the advanced sentries announced the approach of
the enemy, and he had just time to counsel his terrified bedfellow
to make the best of his way back to the division, while he himself
awaited to do battle. Nor had he much time for preparation, for, as
Napier says, "Ney, seeing Crawfurd's false dispositions, came down
upon them with the stoop of an eagle. Four thousand horsemen, and a
powerful artillery, swept the plain, and Loison's division coming up
at a charging pace, made towards the centre and left of the position."
Mac Culloch, almost instantly, received several bad sabre wounds, and,
with five-and-twenty of his men, was taken prisoner.
Rogers, it may be believed, lost no time in following the salutary
counsel he had received with as clever a pair of heels as he could
muster. The enemy's artillery had by this time opened, and, as the
devil would have it, the cannon-balls were travelling the same road,
and tearing up the ground on each side of him almost as regularly as
if it had been a ploughing match. Poor Rogers was thus placed in a
situation which fully justified him in thinking, as most young soldiers
do, that every ball was aimed at himself. He was half distracted; it
was certain death to stop where he was, neither flank offered him the
smallest shelter, and he had not wind enough left in his bellows to
clear the tenth part of the space between him and comparative safety;
but, where life is at stake, the imagination is fertile, and it
immediately occurred to him that by dowsing the cocked hat he would
make himself a less conspicuous object; clapping it, accordingly
under his arm, he continued his frightful career, with the feelings
of a maniac and the politeness of a courtier, for to every missile
that passed he bowed as low as his racing attitude would permit, in
ignorance that the danger had passed along with it, performing, to all
appearance, a continued rotatory sort of evolution, as if the sails of
a windmill had parted from the building, and continued their course
across the plain, to the utter astonishment of all who saw him. At
length, when exhausted nature could not have carried him twenty yards
further, he found himself among some skirmishers of the 3d Caçadores,
and within a few yards of a rocky ridge, rising out of the ground, the
rear of which seemed to offer him the long-hoped-for opportunity of
recovering his wind, and he sheltered himself accordingly.
This happened to be the first occasion in which the Caçadores had been
under fire; they had the highest respect for the bravery of their
British officers, and had willingly followed where their colonel had
led; but having followed him into the field, they did not see why
they should not follow another out of it, and when they saw a red coat
take post behind a rock, they all immediately rushed to take advantage
of the same cover. Poor Rogers had not, therefore, drawn his first
breath when he found himself surrounded by these Portuguese warriors,
nor had he drawn a second before their colonel (Sir George Elder) rode
furiously at him with his drawn sword, exclaiming "who are you, you
scoundrel, in the uniform of a British officer, setting an example of
cowardice to my men? get out of that instantly, or I'll cut you down!"
Rogers's case was desperate--he had no breath left to explain that he
had no pretensions to the honour of being an officer, for he would have
been cut down in the act of attempting it: he was, therefore, once
more forced to start for another heat with the round shot, and, like a
hunted devil, got across the bridge, he knew not how; but he was helm
up for England the same day, and the army never saw him more.
General Crawfurd's conduct in the affair alluded to, would argue that
his usual soldier-like wits had gone a wool-gathering for the time
being--he had, in fact, like a moth, been fluttering so long with
impunity around a consuming power that he had at length lost all sense
of the danger. But even then it is impossible to conceive upon what
principle he took up the position he did--for, in the first place, it
was in direct defiance of Lord Wellington's orders; and had the river
behind him been flowing with milk and honey, or had the rugged bank on
which he was posted been built of loaves and fishes, it would scarcely
have justified him in running the risk he did to preserve the sweets;
but as the one was flooded with muddy water, and the other only bearing
a crop of common stones, and when we consider, too, that the simple
passing of the river would have made a hundred of his troops equal to a
thousand of the invaders, we must continue lost in wonder.
It is difficult to imagine, however, that he ever contemplated the
possibility of stopping the French army but for the moment. Confiding,
probably, in the superiority of his troops, he had calculated on
successfully repelling their first attack, and that having thus taught
them the respect that was due to him, he might then have made a
triumphant retreat to the opposite bank, where, for a time, he could
safely have offered them further defiance.
If such was his object, (and it is the only plausible one I can find,)
he had altogether overlooked that for a man with one pair of arms to
grapple with another who had ten, it must rest with the ten-pair man to
say when the play is over, for although the one-pair man may disable an
equal number in his front, there are still nine pair left to poke him
in the sides and all round about; and thus the general found it; for
having once exposed himself to such overwhelming numbers, there was no
getting out of it but at a large sacrifice--and but for the experience,
the confidence, and the devotion of the different individual battalion
officers, seconded by the gallantry of the soldiers, the division had
been utterly annihilated. Napier, as an eye-witness, states, (what
I have often heard repeated by other officers who were there,) that
"there was no room to array the line, no time for any thing but battle,
every captain carried off his company as an independent body, and
joining as he could with the ninety-fifth or fifty-second, the whole
presented a mass of skirmishers acting in small parties, and under no
regular command, yet each confident in the courage and discipline of
those on his right and left, and all regulating their movements by a
common discretion, and keeping together with surprising vigour."
The result of the action was a loss on the British portion of the
division of two hundred and seventy-two, including twenty-eight
officers, killed, wounded, and taken.
It is curious to observe by what singular interpositions of Providence
the lives of individuals are spared. One of our officers happening
to have a pocket-volume of Gil Blas, was in the middle of one of his
interesting stories when the action commenced. Not choosing to throw
it away, he thrust it into the breast of his jacket for want of a
better place, and in the course of the day it received a musket-ball
which had been meant for a more tender subject. The volume was
afterwards, of course, treated as a tried friend.
Having, in one of the foregoing pages, introduced the name of Mac
Culloch in a prominent part of the action, I must be forgiven for
taking this opportunity of following him to the end of his highly
honourable earthly career.
John Mac Culloch was from Scotland, (a native, I believe, of
Kirkudbright;) he was young, handsome, athletic, and active; with the
meekness of a lamb, he had the heart of a lion, and was the delight of
every one. At the time I first became acquainted with him he had been
several years in the regiment, and had shared in all the vicissitudes
of the restless life they then led. I brought him under the notice of
the reader in marching off to relieve the advanced picquet on the night
prior to the action of the Coa.
For the information of those who are unacquainted with military
matters, I may as well mention that the command of an outline picquet
is never an enviable one--it is a situation at all times dangerous and
open to disgrace, but seldom to honour--for come what may, in the event
of an attack spiritedly made, the picquet is almost sure to go to the
wall. From the manner in which the French approached on the occasion
referred to, it may readily be imagined that my gallant friend had but
little chance of escape--it was, therefore, only left to him to do his
duty as an officer under the circumstances in which he was placed. He
gave the alarm, and he gave his visitors as warm a reception as his
fifty rifles could provide for them, while he gallantly endeavoured to
fight his way back to his battalion, but the attempt was hopeless; the
cavalry alone of the enemy ought to have been more than enough to sweep
the whole of the division off the face of the earth--and Mac Culloch's
small party had no chance; they were galloped into, and he, himself,
after being lanced and sabred in many places, was obliged to surrender.
Mac Culloch refused to give his parole, in the hope of being able
to effect his escape before he reached the French frontier; he was,
therefore, marched along with the men a close prisoner as far as
Valladolid, where fortune, which ever favours the brave, did not fail
him. The escort had found it necessary to halt there for some days, and
Mac Culloch having gained the goodwill of his conductor, was placed in
a private house under proper security, as they thought; but in this
said house there happened to be a young lady, and of what avail are
walls of brass, bolts, bars, or iron doors, when a lady is concerned?
She quickly put herself in communion with the handsome prisoner--made
herself acquainted with his history, name, and country, and as quickly
communicated it, as well as her plans for his escape, to a very worthy
countryman of his, at that time a professor in one of the universities
there. Need I say more than that before many hours had passed over his
head, he found himself equipped in the costume of a Spanish peasant,
the necessary quantity of dollars in his pocket, and a kiss on each
cheek burning hot from the lips of his preserver, on the high road to
rejoin his battalion, where he arrived in due course of time, to the
great joy of every body--Lord Wellington himself was not the least
delighted of the party, and kindly invited him to dine with him that
day, in the _costume_ in which he had arrived.
Mac Culloch continued to serve with us until Massena's retreat from
Portugal, when, in a skirmish which took place on the evening of the
15th of March, 1811, I, myself, got a crack on the head which laid
me under a tree, with my understanding considerably bothered for the
night, and I was sorry to find, as my next neighbour, poor Mac Culloch,
with an excruciatingly painful and bad wound in the shoulder joint,
which deprived him of the use of one arm for life, and obliged him to
return to England for the recovery of health.
In the meantime, by the regular course of promotion, he received his
company, which transferred him to the 2d battalion, and, serving with
it at the battle of Waterloo, he lost his sound arm by one of the last
shots that was fired in that bloody field.
As soon as he had recovered from this last wound he rejoined us in
Paris, and, presenting himself before the Duke of Wellington in his
usual straightforward manly way, said, "Here I am, my Lord; I have
no longer an arm left to wield for my country, but I still wish to
be allowed to serve it as I best can!" The Duke duly appreciated the
diamond before him, and as there were several captains in the regiment
senior to Mac Culloch, his Grace, with due regard to their feelings,
desired the commanding officer to ascertain whether they would not
consider it a cause of complaint if Mac Culloch were recommended for
a brevet majority, as it was out of his power to do it for every one,
and, to the honour of all concerned, there was not a dissentient voice.
He, therefore, succeeded to the brevet, and was afterwards promoted to
a majority, I think, in a veteran battalion.
He was soon after on a visit in London, living at a hotel, when one
afternoon he was taken suddenly ill; the feeling to him was an unusual
one, and he immediately sent for a physician, and told him that he
cared not for the consequences, but insisted on having his candid
opinion on his case.
The medical man accordingly told him at once that his case was an
extraordinary one--that he might within an hour or two recover from it,
or within an hour or two he might be no more.
Mac Culloch, with his usual coolness, gave a few directions as to
the future, and calmly awaited the result, which terminated fatally
within the time predicted--and thus perished, in the prime of life, the
gallant Mac Culloch, who was alike an honour to his country and his
profession.
CHAP. V.
The paying of a French compliment, which will be repaid in a
future chapter. A fierce attack upon hairs. A niece compliment,
and lessons gratis to untaught sword-bearers.
After the action of the Coa the enemy quickly possessed themselves of
the fortress of Almeida, when there remained nothing between Massena
and his kingdom but the simple article of Lord Wellington's army, of
which he calculated he would be able to superintend the embarkation
within the time requisite for his infantry to march to Lisbon. He
therefore put his legions in motion to pay his distinguished adversary
that last mark of respect.
The Wellingtonians retired slowly before them shewing their teeth as
often as favourable opportunities offered, and several bitter bites
they gave before they turned at bay--first on the heights of Busaco,
and finally and effectually on those of Torres Vedras.
The troops of all arms composing the rear guard conducted themselves
admirably throughout the whole of that retreat, for although the enemy
did not press them so much as they might have done, yet they were at
all times in close contact, and many times in actual combat, and it
was impossible to say which was the most distinguished--the splendid
service of the horse artillery, the dashing conduct of the dragoons, or
the unconquerable steadiness and bravery of the infantry.
It was a sort of military academy which is not open for instruction
every day in the year, nor was it one which every fond mamma would
choose to send her darling boy to, calculated although it was to lead
to _immortal_ honours. A youngster (if he did not stop a bullet by the
way) might commence his studies in such a place with nothing but "the
soft down peeping through the white skin," and be entitled to the
respect due to a beard or a bald head before he saw the end of it.
It is curious to remark how fashions change and how the change affects
the valour of the man too. The dragoon since the close of the war
has worn all his hair below the head and none on the top it, and how
fiercely he fought in defence of his whiskers the other day when some
of the regiments were ordered to be shaved, as if the debility of
Samson was likely to be the result of the operation. My stars! but I
should be glad to know what the old royal _heavies_ or fourteenth and
sixteenth _lights_ cared about hairs at the period I speak of, when
with their bare faces they went boldly in and bearded muzzles that
seemed fenced with furze bushes; and while it was "damned be he who
first cries hold--enough!" they did hold enough too, sometimes bringing
in every man his bird, mustachoes and all. In those days they seemed
to put more faith in their good right hand than in a cart-load of
whiskers, for with it and their open English countenances they carved
for themselves a name as British dragoons, which they were too proud to
barter for any other.
Every attempt at rearing a _moustache_ among the British in those days
was treated with sovereign contempt, no matter how aristocratic the
soil on which it was sown. But, to do justice to _every body_, I must
say that, to the best of my recollection, a crop was seldom seen but on
the lips of _nobodies_.
It was in the course of this retreat, as I mentioned in a former work,
that I first joined Lord Wellington's army, and I remember being
remarkably struck with the order, the confidence, and the daring spirit
which seemed to animate all ranks of those among whom it was my good
fortune to be cast. Their confidence in their illustrious chief was
unbounded, and they seemed to feel satisfied that it only rested with
him any day to say to his opponent, "thus far shalt thou come but no
farther;" and if a doubt on the subject had rested with any one before,
the battle of Busaco removed it, for the Portuguese troops having
succeeded in beating their man, it confirmed them in their own good
opinion, and gave increased confidence to the whole allied army.
I am now treading on the heels of my former narrative, and although it
did not include the field of Busaco, yet, as I have already stated,
it is foreign to my present purpose to enter into any details of the
actions in which we were engaged, further than they may serve to
illustrate such anecdotes as appear to me to be likely to amuse the
reader. I shall therefore pass over the present one, merely remarking
that to a military man, one of the most interesting spectacles which
took place there, was the light division taking up their ground the
day before in the face of the enemy. They had remained too long in
their advanced position on the morning of the 25th of September while
the enemy's masses were gathering around them; but Lord Wellington
fortunately came up before they were too far committed and put them in
immediate retreat under his own personal direction. Nor, as Napier
says, "Was there a moment to lose, for the enemy with incredible
rapidity brought up both infantry and guns, and fell on so briskly that
all the skill of the general and the readiness of the excellent troops
composing the rear guard, could scarcely prevent the division from
being dangerously engaged. Howbeit, a series of rapid and beautiful
movements, a sharp cannonade, and an hour's march, brought every thing
back in good order to the great position."
On the day of the battle (the 27th) the French General Simon, who led
the attack upon our division, was wounded and taken prisoner, and as
they were bringing him in he raved furiously for General Crawfurd,
daring him to single combat, but as he was already a prisoner there
would have been but little wit in indulging him in his humour.
In the course of the afternoon his baggage was brought in under a
flag of truce, accompanied by a charm to soothe the savage breast,
in the shape of a very beautiful little Spanish girl, who I have no
doubt succeeded in tranquillizing his pugnacious disposition. I know
not what rank she held on his establishment, but conclude that she
was his niece, for I have observed that in Spain the prettiest girl
in every gentleman's house is the niece. The Padrès particularly are
the luckiest fellows in the world in having the handsomest brothers
and sisters of any men living,--not that I have seen the brother or
the sister of any one of them, but then I have seen nine hundred
and ninety-nine Padrès, and each had his niece at the head of his
establishment, and I know not how it happened but she was always the
prettiest girl in the parish.
It was generally the fate of troops arriving from England, to join the
army at an unhappy period--at a time when easy stages and refreshment
after the voyage was particularly wanted and never to be had. The
marches at this period were harassing and severe, and the company with
which I had just arrived were much distressed to keep pace with the old
campaigners--they made a tolerable scramble for a day or two, but by
the time they arrived at the lines the greater part had been obliged to
be mounted. Nevertheless, when it became Massena's turn to tramp out of
Portugal a few months after, we found them up to their work and with as
few stragglers as the best. Marching is an art to be acquired only by
habit, and one in which the strength or agility of the animal, man, has
but little to do. I have seen Irishmen (and all sorts of countrymen)
in their own country, taken from the plough-tail--huge, athletic,
active fellows, who would think nothing of doing forty or fifty miles
in the course of the day as countrymen--see these men placed in the
rank as recruits with knapsacks on their backs and a musket over their
shoulders, and in the first march they are dead beat before they get
ten miles.
I have heard many disputes on the comparative campaigning powers
of tall and short men, but as far as my own experience goes I have
never seen any difference. If a tall man happens to break down it is
immediately noticed to the disadvantage of his class, but if the same
misfortune befals a short one, it is not looked upon as being anything
remarkable. The effective powers of both in fact depend upon the nature
of the building.
The most difficult and at the same time the most important duty to
teach a young soldier on first coming into active service, is how to
take care of himself. It is one which, in the first instance, requires
the unwearied attention of the officer, but he is amply repaid in the
long run, for when the principle is once instilled into him, it is duly
appreciated, and he requires no further trouble. In our battalion,
during the latter years of the war, it was a mere matter of form
inspecting the men on parade, for they knew too well the advantages
of having their arms and ammunition at all times in proper order to
neglect them, so that after several weeks marching and fighting, I have
never seen them on their first ordinary parade after their arrival in
quarters, but they were fit for the most rigid examination of the
greatest Martinet that ever looked through the ranks. The only thing
that required the officers' attention was their necessaries, for as
money was scarce, they were liable to be bartered for strong waters.
On service as every where else, there is a time for all things, but the
time there being limited and very uncertain, the difficulty is to learn
how to make the most of it.
The first and most important part lies with the officer, and he cannot
do better than borrow a leaf out of General Crawfurd's book, to learn
how to prevent straggling, and to get his men to the end of their day's
work with the least possible delay.
The young soldier when he first arrives in camp or bivouac will (unless
forced to do otherwise) always give in to the languor and fatigue which
oppresses him, and fall asleep. He awakens most probably after dark,
cold and comfortless. He would gladly eat some of the undressed meat in
his haversack, but he has no fire on which to cook it. He would gladly
shelter himself in one of the numerous huts which have arisen around
him since he fell asleep, but as he lent no hand in the building he is
thrust out. He attempts at the eleventh hour to do as others have done,
but the time has gone by, for all the materials that were originally
within reach, have already been appropriated by his more active
neighbours, and there is nothing left for him but to pass the remainder
of the night as he best can, in hunger, in cold, and in discomfort,
and he marches before day-light in the morning without having enjoyed
either rest or refreshment. Such is often the fate of young regiments
for a longer period than would be believed, filling the hospitals and
leading to all manner of evils.
On the other hand, see the old soldiers come to their ground. Let their
feelings of fatigue be great or small, they are no sooner suffered
to leave the ranks than every man rushes to secure whatever the
neighbourhood affords as likely to contribute towards his comfort for
the night. Swords, hatchets, and bill-kooks are to be seen hewing and
hacking at every tree and bush within reach,--huts are quickly reared,
fires are quickly blazing, and while the camp kettle is boiling,
or the pound of beef frying, the tired, but happy souls, are found
toasting their toes around the cheerful blaze, recounting their various
adventures until the fire has done the needful, when they fall on like
men, taking especial care however that whatever their inclinations
may be, they consume no part of the provision which properly belongs
to the morrow. The meal finished, they arrange their accoutrements
in readiness for any emergency, (caring little for the worst that
can befal them for the next twenty-four hours,) when they dispose
themselves for rest, and be their allowance of sleep long or short they
enjoy it, for it does one's heart good to see "the rapture of repose
that's there."
In actual battle, young soldiers are apt to have a feeling, (from which
many old ones are not exempt,) namely, that they are but insignificant
characters--only a humble individual out of many thousands, and that
his conduct, be it good or bad, can have little influence over the fate
of the day. This is a monstrous mistake, which it ought to be the duty
of every military writer to endeavour to correct; for in battle, as
elsewhere, no man is insignificant unless he chooses to make himself
so. The greater part of the victories on record, I believe, may be
traced to the individual gallantry of a very small portion of the
troops engaged; and if it were possible to take a microscopic view of
that small portion, there is reason to think that the whole of the
glory might be found to rest with a very few individuals.
Military men in battle may be classed under three disproportionate
heads,--a very small class who consider themselves insignificant--a
very large class who content themselves with doing their duty, without
going beyond it--and a tolerably large class who do their best, many of
which are great men without knowing it. One example in the history of a
private soldier will establish all that I have advanced on the subject.
In one of the first smart actions that I ever was in, I was a young
officer in command of experienced soldiers, and, therefore, found
myself compelled to be an observer rather than an active leader in
the scene. We were engaged in a very hot skirmish, and had driven the
enemy's light troops for a considerable distance with great rapidity,
when we were at length stopped by some of their regiments in line,
which opened such a terrific fire within a few yards that it obliged
every one to shelter himself as he best could among the inequalities
of the ground and the sprinkling of trees which the place afforded. We
remained inactive for about ten minutes amidst a shower of balls that
seemed to be almost like a hail-storm, and when at the very worst,
when it appeared to me to be certain death to quit the cover, a young
scampish fellow of the name of Priestly, at the adjoining tree, started
out from behind it, saying, "Well! I'll be d----d if I'll be bothered
any longer behind a tree, so here's at you," and with that he banged
off his rifle in the face of his foes, reloading very deliberately,
while every one right and left followed his example, and the enemy,
panic struck, took to their heels without firing another shot. The
action requires no comment, the individual did not seem to be aware
that he had any merit in what he did, but it is nevertheless a valuable
example for those who are disposed to study causes and effects in the
art of war.
In that same action I saw an amusing instance of the ruling passion
for sport predominating over a soldier; a rifleman near me was in the
act of taking aim at a Frenchman when a hare crossed between them, the
muzzle of the rifle mechanically followed the hare in preference, and,
as she was doubling into our lines, I had just time to strike up the
piece with my sword before he drew the trigger, or he most probably
would have shot one of our own people, for he was so intent upon his
game that he had lost sight of every thing else.
CHAP. VI.
Reaping a Horse with a Halter. Reaping golden Opinions out of
a Dung-Hill, and reaping a good Story or two out of the next
Room. A Dog-Hunt and Sheep's Heads prepared at the Expense of a
Dollar each, and a Scotchman's Nose.
I have taken so many flights from our line of retreat in search of the
fanciful, that I can only bring my readers back to our actual position,
by repeating the oft told tale that our army pulled up in the lines of
Torres Vedras to await Massena's further pleasure; for, whether he was
to persevere in his intended compliment of seeing us on board ship, or
we were to return it by seeing him out of Portugal again, was still
somewhat doubtful; and, until the point should be decided, we made
ourselves as comfortable as circumstances would permit, and that was
pretty well.
Every young officer on entering a new stage in his profession, let him
fancy himself ever so acute, is sure to become for a time the _butt_ of
the old hands. I was the latest arrival at the time I speak of, and of
course shared the fate of others, but as the only hoax that I believe
they ever tried upon me, turned out a profitable one, I had less cause
for soreness than falls to the lot of green-horns in general. It
consisted in an officer, famous for his waggery, coming up to me one
morning and mentioning that he had just been taking a ride over a part
of the mountain, (which he pointed out,) where he had seen a wild horse
grazing, and that he had tried hard to catch him, but lamented that he
had been unable to succeed, for that he was a very handsome one!
As the country abounded in wolves and other wild characters I did not
see why there should not also be wild horses, and, therefore, greedily
swallowed the bait, for I happened not only to be in especial want of
a horse, but of dollars to buy one, and arming myself accordingly with
a halter and the assistance of an active rifleman, I proceeded to the
place, and very quickly converted the wild horse into a tame one! It
was not until a year after that I discovered the hoax by which I had
unwittingly become the stealer of some unfortunate man's horse; but,
in the mean time, it was to the no small mortification of my waggish
friend, that he saw me mounted upon him when we marched a few days
after, for he had anticipated a very different result.
The saddle which sat between me and the horse on that occasion ought
not to be overlooked, for, take it all in all, I never expect to
see its like again. I found it in our deserted house at Arruda; the
seat was as soft as a pillow, and covered with crimson silk velvet,
beautifully embroidered, and gilt round the edges. I knew not for what
description of rider it had been intended, but I can answer for it that
it was exceedingly comfortable in dry weather, and that in wet it
possessed all the good properties of a sponge, keeping the rider cool
and comfortable.
While we remained in the lines, there was a small, thatched,
mud-walled, deserted cottage under the hill near our company's post,
which we occasionally used as a shelter from the sun or the rain,
and some of our men in prowling about one day discovered two massive
silver salvers concealed in the thatch. The captain of the company very
properly ordered them to be taken care of, in the hope that their owner
would come to claim them, while the soldiers in the mean time continued
very eager in their researches in the neighbourhood, in expectation of
making further discoveries, in which however they were unsuccessful.
After we had altogether abandoned the cottage, a Portuguese gentleman
arrived one day and told us that he was the owner of the place, and
that he had some plate concealed there which he wished permission to
remove. Captain ---- immediately desired the salvers to be given to
him, concluding that they were what he had come in search of, but on
looking at them he said that they did not belong to him, that what he
wished to remove was concealed under the dunghill, and he accordingly
proceeded there and dug out about a cart load of gold and silver
articles which he carried off, while our unsuccessful searchers stood
by, cursing their mutual understandings which had suffered such a prize
to slip through their fingers, and many an innocent heap of manure was
afterwards torn to pieces in consequence of that morning's lesson.
Massena having abandoned his desolated position in the early part of
November, the fifteenth of that month saw me seated on my cloth of
crimson and gold, taking a look at the French rear guard, which, under
Junot, was in position between Cartaxo and El Valle. A cool November
breeze whistled through an empty stomach, which the gilded outside was
insufficient to satisfy. Our chief of division was red hot to send
us over to warm ourselves with the French fires, and had absolutely
commenced the movement when the opportune arrival of Lord Wellington
put a stop to it; for, as it was afterwards discovered, we should have
burnt our fingers.
While we therefore awaited further orders on the road side, I was
amused to see General Slade, who commanded the brigade of cavalry
attached to us, order up his sumpter mule, and borrowing our doctor's
medical panniers, which he placed in the middle of the road by way
of a table, he, with the assistance of his orderly dragoon, undid
several packages, and presently displayed a set-out which was more
than enough to tempt the cupidity of the hungry beholders, consisting
of an honest-looking loaf of bread, a thundering large tongue, and the
fag end of a ham--a bottle of porter, and half a one of brandy. The
bill of fare is still as legibly written on my remembrance as on the
day that I first saw it--for such things cannot be, and overcome us
like the vision of a Christmas feast, without especial longings for an
invitation; but we might have sighed and looked, and sighed again, for
our longings were useless--our doctor, with his usual politeness, made
sundry attempts to insinuate himself upon the hospitable notice of the
general, by endeavouring to arrange the panniers in a more classical
shape for his better accommodation, for which good service he received
bow for bow, with a considerable quantity of thanks into the bargain,
which, after he had done his best, (and that was no joke,) still left
him the general's debtor on the score of civility. When the doctor had
failed, the attempt of any other individual became a forlorn hope, but
nothing seems desperate to a British soldier, and two thorough going
ones, the commanders of the twelfth and fourteenth light dragoons,
(Colonels Ponsonby and Harvey,) whose olfactory nerves, at a distance
of some hundred yards, having snuffed up the tainted air, eagerly
followed the scent, and came to a dead point before the general and his
panniers. But although they had flushed their game they did not succeed
in bagging it; for while the general gave them plenty of his own
tongue, the deuce take the slice did he offer of the bullock's--and
as soon as he had satisfied his appetite he very deliberately bundled
up the fragments, and shouted to horse, for the enemy had by this
time withdrawn from our front, and joined the main body of the army
on the heights of Santarem. We closed up to them, and exchanged a
few civil shots--a ceremony which cannot be dispensed with between
contending armies on first taking up their ground, for it defines their
territorial rights, and prevents future litigation.
Day-light next morning showed that, though they had passed a restless
night, they were not disposed to extend their walk unless compelled to
it, for their position, formidable by nature, had, by their unwearied
activity, become more so by art--the whole crest of it being already
fenced with an abbatis of felled trees, and the ground turned up in
various directions.
One of our head-quarter staff-officers came to take a look at them in
the early part of the morning, and, assuming a superior knowledge
of all that was passing, said that they had nothing there but a
rear-guard, and that we should shove them from it in the course of the
day--upon which, our brigadier, (Sir Sidney Beckwith,) who had already
scanned every thing with his practised eye, dryly remarked, in his
usual homely but emphatic language, "It was a gay strong rear guard
that built that abbatis last night!" And so it proved, for their whole
army had been employed in its construction, and there they remained for
the next four months.
The company to which I belonged, (and another,) had a deserted
farming establishment turned over for our comfort and convenience
during the period that it might suit the French marshal to leave us
in the enjoyment thereof. It was situated on a slope of the hill
overlooking the bridge of Santarem, and within range of the enemy's
sentries, and near the end of it was one of the finest aloes I have
ever seen, certainly not less than twelve or fourteen feet high. Our
mansion was a long range of common thatched building--one end was
a kitchen--next to it a parlour, which became also the drawing and
sleeping room of two captains, with their six jolly subs--a door-way
communicated from thence to the barn, which constituted the greater
part of the range, and lodged our two hundred men. A small apartment
at the other extremity, which was fitted up for a wine-press, lodged
our non-commissioned officers; while in the back-ground we had
accommodation for our cattle, and for sundry others of the domestic
tribes, had we had the good fortune to be furnished with them.
The door-way between the officers' apartment and that of the soldiers
showed, (what is so very common on the seat of war,) when "a door
is not a door," but a shovel full of dust and ashes--the hinges had
resisted manfully by clinging to the door-post, but a fiery end had
overtaken the timber, and we were obliged to fill up the vacuum with
what loose stones we could collect in the neighbourhood; it was,
nevertheless, so open, that a hand might be thrust through it in every
direction, and, of course, the still small voices on either side of
the partition were alike audible to all. I know not what degree of
amusement the soldiers derived from the proceedings on our side of the
wall, but I know that the jests, the tales, and the songs, from their
side, constituted our greatest enjoyment during the many long winter
nights that it was our fate to remain there.
The early part of their evenings was generally spent in witticisms
and tales; and, in conclusion, by way of a lullaby, some long-winded
fellow commenced one of those everlasting ditties in which soldiers
and sailors delight so much--they are all to the same tune, and the
subject, (if one may judge by the tenor of the first ninety-eight
verses,) was battle, murder, or sudden death; but I never yet survived
until the catastrophe, although I have often, to attain that end,
stretched my waking capacities to the utmost. I have sometimes heard a
fresh arrival from England endeavour to astonish their unpolished ears
with "the white blossomed sloe," or some such refined melody, but it
was invariably coughed down as instantaneously as if it had been the
sole voice of a conservative amidst a select meeting of radicals.
The wit and the humour of the rascals were amusing beyond any
thing--and to see them next morning drawn up as mute as mice, and as
stiff as lamp-posts, it was a regular puzzler to discover on which
_post_ the light had shone during the bye-gone night, knowing, as we
did, that there were at least a hundred original pages for Joe Miller,
encased within the head-pieces then before us.
Their stories, too, were quite unique--one, (an Englishman,) began
detailing the unfortunate termination of his last matrimonial
speculation. He had got a pass one day to go from Shorncliffe to
Folkestone, and on the way he fell in with one of the finest young
women "as ever he seed! my eye, as we say in Spain, if she was not a
_wapper_; with a pair of cheeks like cherries, and shanks as clean as
my ramrod, she was bounding over the downs like a young colt, and
faith, if she would not have been with her heels clean over my head if
I had'n't caught her up and demanded a parley. O, Jem, man, but she
was a nice creature! and all at once got so fond of me too, that there
was no use waiting; and so we settled it all that self same night,
and on the next morning we were regularly spliced, and I carries her
home to a hut which Corporal Smith and I hired behind the barrack for
eighteen pence a week. Well! I'll be blessed if I was'n't as happy as
a shilling a day and my wife could make me for two whole days; but the
next morning, just before parade, while Nancy was toasting a slice of
tommy[B] for our breakfast, who should darken our door but the carcase
of a great sea marine, who began blinking his goggle eyes like an owl
in a gooseberry bush, as if he did'n't see nothing outside on them;
when all at once Nancy turned, and, my eye, what a squall she set up as
she threw the toast in the fire, and upset my tinful of crowdy, while
she twisted her arms round his neck like a vice, and began kissing him
at no rate, he all the time blubbering, like a bottle-nose in a shoal,
about flesh of his flesh, and bones of his bones, and all the like o'
that. Well! says I to myself, says I, this is very queer any how--and
then I eyes the chap a bit, and then says I to him, (for I began to
feel somehow at seeing my wife kissed all round before my face without
saying by your leave,) an' says I to him, (rather angrily,) look ye,
Mr. Marine, if you don't take your ugly mouth farther off from my wife,
I'll just punch it with the butt end of my rifle! thunder and oons, you
great sea lobster that you are, don't you see that I married her only
two days ago just as she stands, bones and all, and you to come at this
time o' day to claim a part on her!"
[B] Brown loaf.
The marine, however, had come from the wars as a man of peace--he had
already been at her father's, and learnt all that had befallen her,
and, in place of provoking the rifleman's further ire, he sought an
amicable explanation, which was immediately entered into.
It appeared that Nancy and he had been married some three years
before; that the sloop of war to which he belonged was ordered to the
West Indies, and while cruising on that station an unsuccessful night
attempt was made to cut out an enemy's craft from under a battery, in
the course of which the boat in which he was embarked having been sent
to the bottom with a thirty-two pound shot, he was supposed to have
gone along with it, and to be snugly reposing in Davy Jones's locker.
His present turn up, however, proved his going down to have been a
mistake, as he had succeeded in saving his life at the expense of his
liberty, for the time being; but the vessel, on her voyage to France,
was captured by a British frigate bound for India, and the royal marine
became once more the servant of his lawful sovereign.
In the meanwhile Nancy had been duly apprised of his supposed fate
by some of his West Indian shipmates--she was told that she might
still hope; but Nancy had no idea of holding on by any thing so
precarious--she was the wife of a sailor, had been frequently on board
a ship, and had seen how arbitrarily every thing, even time itself, is
made subservient to their purposes, and she determined to act upon the
same principle, so that, as the first lieutenant authorizes it to be
eight o'clock after the officer of the watch has reported that it is
so, in like manner did Nancy, when her husband was reported dead, order
that he should be so; but it would appear that her commands had about
as much influence over her husband's fate as the first lieutenant's
had over time, from his making his untoward appearance so early in her
second honey-moon.
As brevity formed no part of the narrator's creed, I have merely given
an outline of the marine's history, such as I understood it, and shall
hasten to the conclusion in the same manner.
The explanation over, a long silence ensued--each afraid to pop the
question, which must be popp'd, of whose wife was Nancy? and when,
at last, it did come out, it was more easily asked than answered,
for, notwithstanding all that had passed, they continued both to be
deeply enamoured of their mutual wife, and she of both, nor could a
voluntary resignation be extracted from either of them, so that they
were eventually obliged to trust the winning or the losing of that
greatest of all earthly blessings, (a beloved wife,) to the undignified
decision of the toss of a halfpenny. The marine won, and carried off
the prize--while the rifleman declared that he had never yet forgiven
himself for being cheated out of his half, for he feels convinced that
the marine had come there prepared with a ha'penny that had two tails.
The tail of the foregoing story was caught up by a _Patlander_
with--"Well! the devil fetch me if I would have let her gone that
way any how, if the marine had brought twenty tails with his
ha'penny!--but you see I was kicked out of the only wife I never had
without ere a chance of being married at all.
"Kitty, you see, was an apprentice to Miss Crump, who keeps that
thundering big milliner's shop in Sackville-street, and I was Mike
Kinahan's boy at the next door--so you see, whenever it was Kitty's
turn to carry out one of them great blue boxes with thingumbobs for
the ladies, faith, I always contrived to steal away for a bit, to give
Kitty a lift, and the darling looked so kind and so grateful for't that
I was at last quite kilt!"
I must here take up the thread of Paddy's story for the same reasons
given in the last, and inform the reader that, though he himself had
received the finishing blow, he was far from satisfied that Kitty's
case was equally desperate, for, notwithstanding her grateful looks,
they continued to be more like those of a mistress to an obliging
servant than of a sweetheart. As for a kiss, he could not get any thing
like one even by coaxing, and the greatest bliss he experienced, in
the course of his love making, was in the interchange among the fingers
which the frequent transfer of the band-box permitted, and which Pat
declared went quite through and through him.
Matters, however, were far from keeping pace with Paddy's inclinations,
and feeling convinced at last, that there must be a rival in the
case, he determined to watch her very closely, in order to have his
suspicions removed, or, if confirmed, to give his rival such a pounding
as should prevent his ever crossing his path again. Accordingly,
seeing her one evening leave the shop better dressed than usual, he
followed at a distance, until opposite the post-office, when he saw her
joined, (evidently by appointment,) by a tall well-dressed spalpeen
of a fellow, and they then proceeded at a smart pace up the adjoining
street--Paddy followed close behind in the utmost indignation, but
before he had time to make up his mind as to which of his rival's bones
he should begin by breaking, they all at once turned into a doorway,
which Paddy found belonged to one of those dancing shops so common in
Dublin.
Determined not to be foiled in that manner, and ascertaining that a
decent suit of _toggery_ and five _tin_-pennies in his pocket would
ensure him a _free_ admission, he lost no time in equipping in his
Sunday's best, and having succeeded in _borrowing_ the needful for the
occasion out of his master's till, he sallied forth bent on conquest.
Paddy was ushered up stairs into the ball-room with all due decorum,
but that commodity took leave of him at the door, for the first thing
he saw on entering, was his mistress and his rival, within a yard of
him, whirling in the mazes of a country dance. Pat's philosophy was
unequal to the sight, and throwing one arm round the young lady's
waist, and giving her partner a douse in the chops with the other, it
made as satisfactory a change in their relative positions as he could
have reasonably desired, by sending his rival in a continuation of his
waltzing movement, to the extremity of the room to salute the wall at
the end of it.
Pat, however, was allowed but brief space to congratulate himself on
his successful _debut_ in a ball-room, for in the next instant he found
himself most ungracefully propelled through the door-way, by sundry
unseen hands, which had grasped him tightly by the _scruff_ of the
neck, and on reaching the top of the staircase, he felt as if a hundred
feet had given a simultaneous kick which raised him like a balloon for
a short distance, and then away he went heels over head towards the
bottom. It so happened at this particular moment, that three gentlemen
very sprucely dressed, had just paid their money and were in the act
of ascending, taking that opportunity, as gentlemen generally do, of
arranging their hair and adjusting their frills to make their _entré_
the more bewitching, and it is therefore unnecessary to say that the
descent of our aëronaut not only disturbed the economy of their wigs
but carried all three to the bottom with the impetus of three sacks of
potatoes.
Paddy's temperament had somewhat exceeded madman's heat before he
commenced his aërial flight, and, as may be imagined, it had not much
cooled in its course, so that when he found himself safely landed,
and, as luck would have it, on the top of one of the unfortunates, he
very unceremoniously began taking the change out of his head for all
the disasters of the night, and having quickly demolished the nose and
bunged up both eyes, he (seeing nothing more to be done thereabouts)
next proceeded to pound the unfortunate fellow's head against the
floor, before they succeeded in lugging him off to finish his love
adventure in the watch-house.
That night was the last of Paddy's love and of his adventures in the
City of Dublin. His friends were respectable of their class, and on the
score of his former good conduct, succeeded in appeasing the aggrieved
parties and inducing them to withdraw from the prosecution on condition
that he quitted the city for ever, and, when he had time to reflect
on the position in which the reckless doings of the few hours had
placed him, he was but too happy to subscribe to it, and passing over
to Liverpool enlisted with a recruiting party of ours, and became an
admirable soldier.
Having given two of the soldiers' stories, it may probably be amusing
to my readers to hear one from our side of the wall. It was related by
one of our officers, a young Scotchman, who was a native of the place,
and while I state that I give it to the best of my recollection, I
could have wished, as the tale is a true one, that it had fallen into
the hands of the late lamented author of Waverly, who would have done
greater justice to its merits.
THE OFFICER'S STORY.
On the banks of the river Carron, near the celebrated village of that
name, which shows its glowing fields of fiery furnaces, stirred by ten
thousand imps of darkness, as if all the devils from the nether world
there held perpetual revels, toasting their red hot irons and twisting
them into all manner of fantastic shapes--tea-kettles, ten-pounders,
and ten-penny nails--I say, that near that village--not in the upper
and romantic region of it, where old Norval of yore fished up his
basketful of young Norvals--but about a mile below where the river
winds through the low country, in a bight of it there stands a stately
two-story house, dashed with pale pink and having a tall chimney at
each end, sticking up like a pair of asses' ears. The main building is
supported by a brace of wings not large enough to fly away with it,
but standing in about the same proportions that the elbows of an easy
chair do to its back. The hall door is flanked on each side by a pillar
of stone as thick as my leg, and over it there is a niche in the wall
which in the days of its glory might have had the honour of lodging
Neptune or Nicodemus, but is now devoted exclusively to the loves of
the sparrows.
Viewed at a little distance the mansion still wears a certain air of
imposing gentility--looking like the substantial retreat of one who
had well feathered his nest upon the high seas, or as an adventurer
in foreign lands. But a nearer approach shews that the day of its
glory has long departed, the winds are howling through the glassless
casements, the roof is plastered by the pigeons, the pigs and the
poultry are galloping at large over the ruins of the garden-wall,
luxuriating in its once costly shrubbery, and a turkey is most likely
seen at the hall-door, staring the visitor impertinently in the face,
and blustering as if he would say, "if you want me you must down with
the dust."
Had that same turkey, however, lived some six score years before, in
the life-time, or in the death-time of the last of its lairds, he would
have found himself compelled to gabble to another tune, for in place of
being allowed to insult his guests in his master's hall, he would have
been called upon to share his merry-thought for their amusement at the
festive board.
That the last laird of Abbots-Haugh had lived like a right good country
gentleman all of the olden days, the manner of his death will testify,
for though his living history is lost in the depth of time, his death
is still alive in the recollections of our existing great grandfathers.
He was, to the best of my belief, wifeless and relationless,
nevertheless, when the time approached that "the old man he must die,"
he did as all prudent men do, made his temporal arrangements previous
to the settling of that last debt which he owed to nature.
The laird, it appeared, was not haunted by the fears of most men,
which forbid the inspection of their last testaments, until the
last shovelful of earth has secured their remains from the wrath of
disappointed expectants, and from a conscious dread too that the only
tears that would otherwise be shed at their obsequies, would be by the
undertaker and his assistants with their six big black horses; but the
laird, as before said, was altogether another manner of man, and his
last request was, that certain persons should consider themselves his
executors, that they should open his will the moment the breath was out
of his body, and that they should see his last injunctions faithfully
executed as they hoped that he should rest calmly in his grave.
The laird quietly gave up the ghost, and his last wish was complied
with; when, to the no small astonishment of the executors, the only
bequest which his will decreed was, that every man within a given
distance of his residence was to be invited to the funeral, and that
they were all to be filled blind drunk before the commencement of the
procession!
This was certainly one of the most jovial wills that was ever made by a
dying man, and it was acted upon to the letter.
The appointed day arrived, and so did the guests too; and although the
invitations had only extended to the men, yet did their wives, like
considerate folks as they always are, reflect that a dying man cannot
have all his wits about him, and had any one but taken the trouble to
remind him that there were such things as angels even in this world,
they would no doubt have been included, and with that view of the case
they considered it their duty to give their aid in the _mournful_
ceremony.
The duties of the day at length began as was usual on those days, by--
"One-mile prayers and half-mile graces,"
to which the assembled multitude impatiently listened with their
"Toom wames and lang wry faces."
That ceremony over, they proceeded with all due diligence to honour the
last request of the departed laird.
The droves of bullocks, sheep, and turkeys, which had been sacrificed
for the occasion, were served up at mid-day, and as every description
of foreign and British wines, spirits, and ales flowed in pailfuls, the
executors indulged in the very reasonable expectation that the whole
party would be sufficiently glorious to authorize their proceeding with
their last duty so as to have it over before dark: but they had grossly
miscalculated the capacities of their guests, for even at dusk when
they considered themselves compelled to put the procession in motion at
all hazards, it was found that many of them were not more than "half
seas over."
The distance from Abbots-Haugh to the dormitory of the parish-church
is nearly two miles, the first half of the road runs still between two
broad deep ditches which convey the drainings of these lowlands into
the river; the other half is now changed by the intersection of the
great canal, but an avenue formed by two quick-set hedge-rows still
marks its former line.
Doctor Mac Adam had not in those days begun to disturb the bowels of
the harmless earth, by digging for stones wherewith to deface its
surface, so that the roads were perfect evergreens, (when nobody
travelled upon them,) but at the period I speak of, a series of
wet weather and perpetual use had converted them into a sort of
hodge-podge, which contributed nothing towards maintaining the gravity
of the unsteady multitude now in motion, so that although the hearse
started with some five or six hundred followers, all faithful and
honest in their purpose to see the end of the ceremony, there were
not above as many dozens who succeeded in following it into the
church-yard, which it reached about midnight. These few however went on
in the discharge of their duty and proceeded to remove the coffin from
the hearse to its intended receptacle, but to their utter consternation
there was no longer a coffin or a corpse there!
Tam O'Shanter lived a generation later than the period of my history,
and I believe that there were few Scotchmen even in his days who were
altogether free from supernatural dread however well primed with
whiskey; but certain it is, that on this occasion every bonnet that
was not on a bald head rose an inch or two higher, and many of them
were pitched off altogether, as they began to reason (where reason
there was none) as to the probable flight of the coffin; and though
they were unanimously of opinion that it had gone the Lord knows where,
yet they at last agreed that it was nevertheless a duty they owed the
deceased to go back to Abbots-Haugh and inquire whether the laird had
not returned. They accordingly provided themselves with lanterns, and
examined all parts of the road on their way back, which was easily
traced by the sleeping and besotted persons of the funeral party which
formed a continuous link from the one place to the other--some lying in
the road--some stuck fast in the hedges, but the majority three parts
drowned in the ditches. When our return party arrived near the site
of the present distillery, which happened to be the deepest part of
the way, they heard something floundering at a frightful rate at the
edge of a pool of water on the road side, and which, on examination,
proved to be a huge old woman who was in the habit of supplying the
farmers in that part of the country with loaf bread for their Sunday's
breakfasts; she was holding on fiercely by what appeared to be the
stump of a tree, while her nether end was immersed in the water,
but when they went to pull her out, they found to their delight and
astonishment that she was actually holding on by the end of the lost
coffin, which had fallen at the edge of the pool. Old Nelly could give
no information as to how it got there, she had some recollection of
having been shoved into the hearse at first starting, but knew nothing
more until she found herself up to her _oxters_ in the water, holding
fast by something--that she had bawled until she was hoarse, and had
now nothing but a kick left to tell the passers by that a poor creature
was perishing. She had most probably been reposing on the coffin as a
place of rest, and been jolted a step beyond it when the two fell out.
A council was now called to determine the proper mode of further
proceeding, when it was moved and carried that a vote of censure be
passed upon the executors for having failed to fulfil the provisions of
the laird's will, for in place of being drunk, as they ought to have
been, they were all shamefully sober; secondly, that it was in vain
to repeat the attempt to bury him until the conditions upon which he
died were complied with, for he had pledged himself not to rest quiet
in his grave if it was neglected, and it was evident from what he had
already done that he was not to be humbugged, but would again slip
through their fingers unless justice was done to his memory, and it
was therefore finally resolved that the laird be carried back to his
own hall, there to lie in state until the terms of his testament were
confirmed and ratified beyond dispute.
Back, therefore, they went to Abbots-Haugh, and set themselves again
right honestly to work, as good and loyal vassals to obey their
master's last behests, and that they at length succeeded in laying the
restless spirit may be inferred from the fact that it was the afternoon
of the third day from that time before the party felt themselves in
a condition to renew the attempt to complete the ceremony; however
it was then done effectually, as for fear of accidents, and not to
lose sight of the coffin a second time, as many as there was room for
took post on the top of it, provided with the means of finishing, at
their destination, what the defunct might have considered underdone
on their departure. And accordingly when they had at last succeeded
in depositing the coffin within the family vault, and had set the
bricklayers to work, they renewed their revels in the church-yard,
until they finally saw the tomb closed over one of the most eccentric
characters that ever went into it.
I shall now take leave of tales, and recommence the narration of
passing events by mentioning that while we remained at Valle, one of
our officers made an amusing attempt to get up a pack of hounds. He
offered a dollar a head for anything in the shape of a dog that might
be brought to him, which in a very short time furnished his kennel
with about fifteen couple, composed of poodles, sheep-dogs, curs, and
every species but the one that was wanted. When their numbers became
sufficiently formidable to justify the hope that there might be a few
noses in the crowd gifted with the sense of smelling something more
game than their porridge-pots; the essay was made, but they proved a
most ungrateful pack, for they were no sooner at liberty than every one
went howling away to his own home as if a tin kettle had been tied to
his tail. (A prophetic sort of feeling of what would inevitably have
befallen him had he remained a short time longer.)
Scotchmen are generally famed for the size of their noses, and I know
not whether it is that on service they get too much crammed with snuff
and gunpowder, or from what other cause, but certain it is that they do
not prove themselves such useful appendages to the countenance there
as they do in their own country, in scenting out whatever seemeth good
unto the wearer, for I remember one day, while waging war against the
snipes on the flooded banks of the Rio Maior, in passing by the rear
of a large country house which was occupied by the commander-in-chief
of the cavalry, (Sir Stapleton Cotton,) I was quite horrified to find
myself all at once amidst the ruins of at least twenty dozen of sheep's
heads, unskinned and unsinged, to the utter disgrace of about two
thousand highland noses belonging to the forty-second and seventy-ninth
regiments, which had, all the while of their accumulation, been lodged
within a mile, and not over and above well provided with that national
standing dish.
I will venture to say, that had such a deposit been made any evening on
the North Inch of Perth in the days of their great grandfathers, there
would have been an instinctive gathering of all the clans between the
Tay and Cairngorum before day-light next morning.
CHAP. VII.
"Blood and destruction shall be so in use,
And dreadful objects so familiar,
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quartered with the hands of war."
The month of March, eighteen hundred and eleven, showed the successful
workings of Lord Wellington's admirable arrangements. The hitherto
victorious French army, which, under their "spoilt child of fortune,"
had advanced to certain conquest, were now obliged to bundle up their
traps and march back again, leaving nearly half their numbers to fatten
the land which they had beggared. They had fallen, too, on nameless
ground, in sickness and in want, and without a shot, by which their
friends and relatives might otherwise have proudly pointed to the
graves they filled.
Portugal, at that period, presented a picture of sadness and desolation
which it is sickening to think of--its churches spoliated, its villages
fired, and its towns depopulated.
It was no uncommon sight, on entering a cottage, to see in one
apartment some individuals of the same family dying of want, some
perishing under the brutal treatment of their oppressors, and some
(preferring death to dishonour) lying butchered upon their own hearths.
These were scenes which no Briton could behold without raising his
voice in thanksgiving to the Author of all good, that the home of his
childhood had been preserved from such fearful visitations; and yet
how melancholy it is to reflect that even in that cherished home there
should be many self-styled patriots, who not only grumble at, but would
deny their country's pittance to those who devoted the best part of
their lives, sacrificed their health, and cheerfully scattered their
limbs in rolling the tide of battle from its door.
I lament it feelingly but not selfishly, for as far as I am
individually concerned, my country and I are quits. I passed through
the fiery ordeal of these bloody times and came out scatheless. While
I parted from its service on the score of expediency, it is to me a
source of pride to reflect (may I be pardoned the expression) that we
parted with mutual regret. That she may never again require a re-union
with such an humble individual as myself may heaven in its infinite
mercy forfend; but if she does, I am happy in the feeling that I have
still health and strength, and a heart and soul devoted to her cause.
Massena's retreat having again called the sword from its scabbard,
where it had slumbered for months, it was long ere it had another
opportunity of running to rust through idleness, seeing that it was not
only in daily communication with the _heads_ of the enemy's corps in
the course of their return through Portugal, but wherever else these
same heads were visible, and for a year and a half from that date they
were rarely out of sight.
On the 9th, we came up with their rear-guard on a table land near
Pombal. We had no force with which to make any serious attack upon it,
so that it was a day's dragooning, "all cry and little wool." We had
one company mixed among them from day-light until dark, but they came
back to us without a scratch.
On the morning of the 11th, finding that the enemy had withdrawn from
the scene of the former day's skirmish, we moved in pursuit towards
the town, which they still occupied as an advanced post. Two of our
companies, with some Caçadores and a squadron of the royal dragoons,
made a dash into it, driving the enemy out, and along with a number of
prisoners captured the baggage of young Soult.
I know not whether young Soult was the son of old Soult or only the
son of his father; all I know is, that by the letters found in his
portmanteau, he was the colonel of that name.
His baggage, I remember, was mounted on a stately white horse with a
Roman nose and a rat tail, which last I believe is rather an unusual
appendage to a horse of that colour, but he was a waggish looking
fellow, and probably had shaken all the hairs out of his tail in
laughing at the contents of the portmanteau of which he was the bearer.
He and his load were brought to the hammer the same day by his captors,
and excited much merriment among us. I wish that I felt myself at
liberty to publish an inventory of the contents of a French officer's
portmanteau, but as they excited such excess of laughter in a horse
I fear it would prove fatal to my readers--not to mention (as I see
written on some of the snug corners of our thoroughfares) that "decency
forbids." Suffice it that it abounded in luxuries which we dreamt not
of.
Next day, the 12th, in following the retiring foe we came to the field
of Redinha. I have never in the course of my subsequent military
career seen a more splendid picture of war than was there shewn.
Ney commanded the opposing force, which was formed on the table land
in front of the town in the most imposing shape. We light folks were
employed in the early part of the action in clearing the opposing
_lights_ from the woods which flanked his position, and in the course
of an hour about thirty thousand British, as if by magic, were seen
advancing on the plain in three lines, with the order and precision of
a field day: the French disappeared before them like snow under the
influence of a summer's sun. The forces on both sides were handled by
masters in the art.
A late lady writer (Miss Pardoe) I see has now peopled Redinha with
banditti, and as far as my remembrance goes, they could not have
selected a more favourable position, with this single but important
professional drawback, that there can be but few folks thereabout worth
robbing.
I know not what class of beings were its former tenants, but at the
time I speak of, the curse of the Mac Gregors was upon them, for the
retiring enemy had given
"Their roofs to the flames and their flesh to the eagles,"
and there seemed to be no one left to record its history.
After the peace, in 1814, I met, at a ball in Castel Sarrazin, the
colonel who commanded the regiment opposed to us in the wood on that
occasion. He confessed that he had never been so roughly handled, and
had lost four hundred of his men. He was rather a rough sort of a
diamond himself, and seemed anxious to keep his professional hand in
practice, for he quarreled that same night with one of his countrymen
and was bled next morning with a small sword.
From Redinha we proceeded near to Condeixa, and passed that day and
night on the road side in comparative peace. Not so the next, for at
Casal Nova, on the 14th, we breakfasted, dined, and supped on powder
and ball.
Our general of division was on leave of absence in England during
this important period, and it was our curse in the interim to fall
into the hands successively of two or three of the worthiest and best
of men, but whose only claims to distinction as officers was their
sheet of parchment. The consequence was, that whenever there was any
thing of importance going on, we were invariably found leaving undone
those things which we ought to have done, and doing that which we
ought not to have done. On the occasion referred to we were the whole
day battering our brains out against stone walls at a great sacrifice
of life, whereas, had we waited with common prudence until the proper
period, when the flank movements going on under the direction of our
illustrious chief had begun to take effect, the whole of the loss would
have been on the other side, but as it was, I am afraid that although
we carried our point we were the greatest sufferers. Our battalion had
to lament the loss of two very valuable officers on that occasion,
Major Stewart and Lieutenant Strode.
At the commencement of the action, just as the mist of the morning
began to clear away, a section of our company was thrown forward among
the skirmishers, while the other three remained in reserve behind a
gentle eminence, and the officer commanding it, seeing a piece of
rising ground close to the left, which gave him some uneasiness, he
desired me to take a man with me to the top of it, and to give him
notice if the enemy attempted any movement on that side. We got to
the top; but if we had not found a couple of good sized stones on the
spot, which afforded shelter at the moment, we should never have got
any where else, for I don't think they expended less than a thousand
shots upon us in the course of a few minutes. My companion, John Rouse,
a steady sturdy old rifleman, no sooner found himself snugly covered,
than he lugged out his rifle to give them one in return, but the
slightest exposure brought a dozen balls to the spot in an instant,
and I was amused to see old Rouse, at every attempt, jerking back his
head with a sort of knowing grin, as if it were only a parcel of
schoolboys, on the other side, threatening him with snow-balls; but
seeing, at last, that his time for action was not yet come, he withdrew
his rifle, and, knowing my inexperience in those matters, he very
good-naturedly called to me not to expose myself looking out just then,
for, said he, "there will be no moving among them while this shower
continues."
When the shower ceased we found that they had also ceased to hold
their formidable post, and, as quickly as may be, we were to be seen
standing in their old shoes, mixed up with some of the forty-third, and
among them the gallant Napier, the present historian of the Peninsular
War, who there got a ball through his body which seemed to me to have
reduced the remainder of his personal history to the compass of a
simple paragraph: it nevertheless kept him but a very short while in
the back-ground.
I may here remark that the members of that distinguished family were
singularly unfortunate in that way, as they were rarely ever in any
serious action in which one or all of them did not get hit.
The two brothers in our division were badly wounded on this occasion,
and, if I remember right, they were also at Busaco; the naval captain,
(the present admiral of that name,) was there as an amateur, and
unfortunately caught it on a spot where he had the last wish to be
distinguished, for, accustomed to face broadsides on his native
element, he had no idea of taking in a ball in any other direction than
from the front, but on shore we were obliged to take them just as they
came!
This severe harassing action closed only with the day-light, and left
the French army wedged in the formidable pass of Miranda de Corvo.
They seemed so well in hand that some doubt was entertained whether
they did not intend to burst forth upon us; but, as the night closed
in, the masses were seen to melt, and at day-light next morning they
were invisible.
I had been on picquet that night in a burning village, and the first
intimation we had of their departure was by three Portuguese boys,
who had been in the service of French officers, and who took the
opportunity of the enemy's night march to make their escape--they
seemed well fed, well dressed, and got immediate employment in our
camp, and they proved themselves very faithful to their new masters.
One of them continued as a servant to an officer for many years after
the peace.
In the course of the morning we passed the brigade of General
Nightingale, composed of Highlanders, if I remember right, who had made
a flank movement to get a slice at the enemy's rear guard; but he had
arrived at the critical pass a little too late.
In the afternoon we closed up to the enemy at Foz d'Aronce, and, after
passing an hour in feeling for their different posts, we began to squat
ourselves down for the night on the top of a bleak hill, but soon
found that we had other fish to fry. Lord Wellington, having a prime
nose for smelling out an enemy's blunder, no sooner came up than he
discovered that Ney had left himself on the wrong side of the river,
and immediately poured down upon him with our division, Picton's, and
Pack's Portuguese, and, after a sharp action, which did not cease until
after dark, we drove him across the river with great loss.
I have often lamented in the course of the war that battalion officers,
on occasions of that kind, were never entrusted with a peep behind
the curtain. Had we been told before we advanced that there was but a
single division in our front, with a river close behind them, we would
have hunted them to death, and scarcely a man could have escaped; but,
as it was, their greatest loss was occasioned by their own fears and
precipitancy in taking to the river at unfordable places--for we were
alike ignorant of the river, the localities, or the object of the
attack; so that when we carried the position, and exerted ourselves
like prudent officers to hold our men in hand, we were, from want of
information, defeating the very object which had been intended, that
of hunting them on to the finale.
When there is no object in view beyond the simple breaking of the
heads of those opposed to us, there requires no speechification; but,
on all occasions, like the one related, it ought never to be lost
sight of--it is easily done--it never, by any possibility, can prove
disadvantageous, and I have seen many instances in which the advantages
would have been incalculable. I shall mention as one--that three days
after the battle of Vittoria, in following up the retreating foe,
we found ourselves in a wood, engaged in a warm skirmish, which we
concluded was occasioned by our pushing the enemy's rear guard faster
than they found it convenient to travel; but, by and bye, when they had
disappeared, we found that we were near the junction of two roads, and
that we had all the while been close in, and engaged with the flank of
another French division, which was retiring by a road running parallel
with our own. The road (and that there was a retiring force upon it)
must, or ought to have been known to some of our staff officers, and
had they only communicated their information, there was nothing to have
prevented our dashing through their line of march, and there is little
doubt, too, but the thousands which passed us, while we stood there
exchanging shots with them, would have fallen into our hands.
The day after the action at Foz d'Aronce was devoted to repose, of
which we stood much in want, for we had been marching and fighting
incessantly from day-light until dark for several consecutive days,
without being superabundantly provisioned; and our jackets, which had
been tolerably tight fits at starting, were now beginning to sit as
gracefully as sacks upon us. When wounds were abundant, however, we did
not consider it a disadvantage to be low in flesh, for the poorer the
subject the better the patient!
A smooth ball or a well polished sword will slip through one of your
transparent gentlemen so gently that be scarcely feels it, and the
holes close again of their own accord. But see the smash it makes
in one of your turtle or turkey fed ones! the hospital is ruined in
finding materials to reduce his inflammations, and it is ten to one if
ever he comes to the scratch again.
On descending to the river side next morning to trace the effects
of the preceding night's combat, we were horrified and disgusted by
the sight of a group of at least five hundred donkeys standing there
ham-strung. The poor creatures looked us piteously in the face, as much
as to say, "Are you not ashamed to call yourselves human beings?" And
truly we were ashamed to think that even our enemy could be capable of
such refinement in cruelty. I fancy the truth was, they were unable
to get them over the river, they had not time to put them to death,
and, at the same time, they were resolved that we should not have the
benefit of their services. Be that as it may, so disgusted and savage
were our soldiers at the sight, that the poor donkeys would have
been amply revenged, had fate, at that moment, placed five hundred
Frenchmen in our hands, for I am confident that every one of them would
have undergone the same operation.
The French having withdrawn from our front on the 16th, we crossed the
Ciera, at dawn of day, on the 17th; the fords were still so deep, that,
as an officer with an empty haversack on my back, it was as much as I
could do to flounder across it without swimming. The soldiers ballasted
with their knapsacks, and the sixty rounds of ball cartridge were of
course in better fording trim. We halted that night in a grove of cork
trees, about half a league short of the Alva.
Next morning we were again in motion, and found the enemy's rear-guard
strongly posted on the opposite bank of that river.
The Alva was wide, deep, and rapid, and the French had destroyed the
bridge of Murcella, and also the one near Pombeira. Nevertheless,
we opened a thundering cannonade on those in our front, while Lord
Wellington, having, with extraordinary perseverance, succeeded
in throwing three of his divisions over it higher up, threatening
their line of retreat--it obliged those opposed to us to retire
precipitately, when our staff corps, with wonderful celerity, having
contrived to throw a temporary bridge over the river, we passed in
pursuit and followed until dark; we did not get another look at them
that day, and bivouacked for the night in a grove of pines, on some
swampy high lands, by the road side, without baggage, cloaks, or
eatables of any kind.
Who has not passed down Blackfriars-road of an evening? and who has not
seen, in the vicinity of Rowland Hill's chapel, at least half a dozen
gentlemen presiding each over his highly polished tin case, surmounted
by variegated lamps, and singing out that most enchanting of all
earthly melodies to an empty stomach, that has got a sixpence in its
clothly casement, "hot, all hot!" The whole concern is not above the
size of a drum, and, in place of dealing in its empty sounds, rejoices
in mutton-pies, beef-steaks, and kidney-puddings, "hot, all hot!" If
the gentlemen had but followed us to the wars, how they would have been
worshipped in such a night, even without their lamps.
In these days of invention, when every suggestion for ameliorating
the condition of the soldier is thankfully received, I, as one, who
have suffered severely by outward thawings and inward gnawings, beg to
found my claim to the gratitude of posterity, by proposing that, when a
regiment is ordered on active service, the drummers shall deposit their
sheep-skins and their cat-o'-nine tails in the regimental store-room,
leaving one cat only in the keeping of the drum major. And in lieu
thereof that each drummer be armed with a _tin drum_ full of "hot, all
hot!" and that whenever the quarter-master fails to find the _cold_,
the odd cat in the keeping of the drum-major shall be called upon to
remind him of his duty.
If the simple utterance of the three magical monosyllables already
mentioned did not rally a regiment more rapidly round the given point
than a tempest of drums and trumpets, I should be astonished, and as we
fought tolerably well on empty stomachs, I should like to see what we
would not do on kidney puddings, "hot, all hot!"
On the 19th we were again in motion at day-light, and both on that day
and the next, although we did not come into actual contact with the
enemy, we picked up a good many stragglers. We were obliged, however,
to come to a halt for several days from downright want, for the country
was a desert, and we had out-marched our supplies. Until they came
up, therefore, we remained two days in one village, and kept creeping
slowly along the foot of the Sierra, until our commissariat was
sufficiently re-inforced to enable us to make another dash.
I was amused at that time, in marching through those towns and
villages which had been the head-quarters of the French army, to
observe the falling off in their respect to the Marquess d'Alorna,
a Portuguese nobleman, who had espoused their cause, and who, during
Massena's advance, had been treated like a prince among them. On
their retreat, however, it was easily seen that he was considered
an incumbrance. Their names were always chalked on the doors of the
houses they occupied, and we remarked that the one allotted to the
unfortunate marquis grew gradually worse as we approached the frontier,
and I remember that in the last village before we came to Celerico,
containing about fifty houses, only a cow's share of the buildings had
fallen to his lot.
We halted one day at Mello, and seeing a handsome-looking new church on
the other side of the Mondego, I strolled over in the afternoon to look
at it. It had all the appearance of having been magnificently adorned
in the interior, but the French had left the usual traces of their
barbarous and bloody visit. The doors were standing wide open, the
valuable paintings destroyed, the statues thrown down, and mixed with
them on the floor, lay the bodies of six or seven murdered Portuguese
peasants. It was a cruel and a horrible sight, and yet in the midst
thereof was I tempted to commit a most sacrilegious act, for round
the neck of a prostrate marble female image, I saw a bone necklace of
rare and curious workmanship, the only thing that seemed to have been
saved from the general wreck, which I very coolly transferred to my
pocket and in due time to my portmanteau. But a day of retribution was
at hand, for both the portmanteau and the necklace went from me like a
tale that is told, and I saw them no more.
It was the 28th before we again came in contact with the enemy at the
village of Frexadas. Two companies of ours and some dragoons were
detached to dislodge them, which they effected in gallant style,
sending them off in confusion and taking a number of prisoners; but the
advantage was dearly purchased by the death of our adjutant, Lieutenant
Stewart. He imprudently rode into the main street of the village,
followed by a few riflemen, before the French had had time to withdraw
from it, and was shot from a window.
One would imagine that there is not much sense wrapped up in an ounce
of lead, and yet it invariably selects our best and our bravest, (no
great compliment to myself by the way, considering the quantity of
those particles that must have passed within a yard of my body at
different times, leaving all standing.) Its present victim was a public
loss, for he was a shrewd, active, and intelligent officer; a gallant
soldier, and a safe, jovial, and honourable companion.
I was not one of the party engaged on that occasion, but with many of
my brother officers, watched their proceedings with my spy-glass from
the church-yard of Alverca. Our rejoicings on the flight of the enemy
were quickly turned into mourning by observing in the procession of our
returning victorious party, the gallant adjutant's well-known bay horse
with a dead body laid across the saddle. We at first indulged in the
hope that he had given it to the use of some more humble comrade; but
long ere they reached the village we became satisfied that the horse
was the bearer of the inanimate remains of his unfortunate master, who
but an hour before had left us in all the vigour of health, hope, and
manhood. At dawn of day on the following morning the officers composing
the advanced guard, dragoons, artillery, and riflemen, were seen
voluntarily assembled in front of Sir Sidney Beckwith's quarters, and
the body, placed in a wooden chest, was brought out and buried there
amid the deep but silent grief of the spectators.
Brief, however, is the space which can be allotted to military
lamentations in such times, for within a quarter of an hour we were
again on the move in battle array, to seek laurels or death in another
field.
Our movement that morning was upon Guarda, the highest standing town
in Portugal, which is no joke, as they are rather exalted in their
architectural notions--particularly in convent-building--and were even
a thunder-charged cloud imprudent enough to hover for a week within
a league of their highest land, I verily believe that it would get so
saddled with monks, nuns, and their accompanying iron bars, that it
would be ultimately unable to make its escape.
Our movement, as already said, was upon Guarda, and how it happened,
the Lord and Wellington only knows, but even in that wild mountainous
region the whole British army arriving from all points of the compass
were seen to assemble there at the same instant, and the whole French
army were to be seen at the same time in rapid retreat within gun-shot
through the valley below us.
There must have been some screws loose among our minor departments,
otherwise such a brilliant movement on the part of our chief would not
have gone for nothing. But notwithstanding that the enemy's masses were
struggling through a narrow defile for a considerable time, and our
cavalry and horse artillery were launched against them, three hundred
prisoners were the sole fruits of the day's work.
CHAP. VII.
The persecution of the guardian of two angels. A Caçadore and
his mounted followers. A chief of hussars in his trousers.
A chief of rifles in his glory, and a sub of ditto with two
screws in the neck.
In one of the first chapters of this book I not only pledged my
constancy to my fair readers, but vowed to renew my addresses from
time to time as opportunities offered. As my feet, however, have since
trodden from one extremity of a kingdom to the other, and many months
have, in the meanwhile, rolled away without giving me an opportunity
of redeeming the pledge, I fear that my fidelity might be doubted
if I delayed longer in assuring them that the spirit has all along
been willing, but the subject fearfully wanting; for wherever I have
wandered the angel of death has gone before, and carefully swept from
the female countenance all lines of beauty, leaving nothing for the eye
to dwell on but the hideous ruins of distress.
The only exceptions were our fellow travellers, for the country on
our line of march, as already said, was reduced to a desert, and no
one remained in it who had either wealth or strength to remove, and
our regimental wife had deserted, but our gallant associates, the
43d and 52d regiments, had one each, who had embarked with them, and
remained true to the brigade until the end of the war. One of them was
remarkably pretty, and it did one's heart good to see the everlasting
sweets that hung upon her lovely countenance, assuring us that our
recollections of the past were not ideal, which they would otherwise
have been apt to revolve themselves into from the utter disappearance
of reality for so long a period.
The only addition to them which our division could boast, were two
smart substantial looking Portuguese angels, who followed our two
Caçadore regiments, and rode on mule-back under the especial protection
of their regimental chaplain. These two were a continual source of
amusement to us on the march whenever we found ourselves at liberty
to indulge in it. The worthy father himself was quite a lady's man,
(Portuguese,) he was a short stout old fellow, with a snuff-coloured
coat buttoned up to the throat, which was quite unnecessary with him,
seeing that he shaved and put on a clean shirt sometimes as often as
once a fortnight. The round mealy-faced ball which he wore as a head
was surmounted by a tall cocked hat, and when mounted on his bay pony
in his Portuguese saddle, which is boarded up like a bucket, (the shape
of his seat and thighs,) he was exactly like some of the cuts I have
seen of Hudibras starting on his erratic expedition.
It was our daily amusement whenever we could steal away from our
regiment a short time, for two or three of us to start with some
design against the Padré and his dark-eyed wards. One of us would ride
quietly up alongside of him and another on that of the ladies as if we
wished to pass, but in wishing them the compliments of the season we of
course contrived to get ourselves entangled in conversation, while a
third officer of our party rode some distance in the rear in readiness
to take advantage of circumstances.
The Padré was a good-natured old fellow, fond of spinning a yarn, and
as soon as one of us had got him fairly embarked in his story, the
other began gradually to detach one or both of the damsels from his
side, according as the inequalities of the road favoured the movement.
They entered into the frolic merrily, but still he was so much alive
that we rarely succeeded in stealing one out of sight; but if we did
by any accident, it was a grand scene to see the scramble which he and
his pony made after the fugitives, and on recovering the one, his rage
on his return to find that the other had also disappeared. After one of
these successful expeditions we found it prudent never to renew the
attack until his wrath was assuaged, and it never abode with him long,
so that week after week and year after year we continued to renew the
experiment with various success.
It is amusing to think to what absurdities people will have recourse
by way of amusement when subjects for it are scarce. It was long
a favourite one with us to hunt a Caçadore as we called it. Their
officers as well as our own were always mounted, and when their corps
happened to be marching in our front, any officer who stopped behind,
(which they frequently had occasion to do,) invariably, in returning
to rejoin his regiment, passed ours at a full gallop; and on those
occasions he had no sooner passed our first company than the officers
of it were hard at his heels, the others following in succession as
he cleared them, so that by the time he had reached the head of the
regiment the whole of our officers had been in full chace. We never
carried the joke too far, but made it a point of etiquette to stop
short of our commanding officer, (who was not supposed to see what was
going on,) and then fell quietly back to our respective places.
I have often seen the hunted devil look round in astonishment, but I
do not think he ever saw the wit of the thing, and for that matter I
don't know that my readers will feel that they are much wiser, but
it was nevertheless amusing to us; and not without its use, for the
soldiers enjoyed the joke, which, though trifling, helped to keep up
that larking spirit among them, which contributed so much towards
the superiority and the glory of our arms. In times of hardship and
privation the officer cannot be too much alive to the seizing of every
opportunity, no matter how ridiculous, if it serves to beguile the
soldier of his cares.
On the 1st of April we again closed up with the enemy on the banks of
the Coa, near Sabugal. It was a wet muggy afternoon near dusk when we
arrived at our ground, and I was sent, with the company which I had
charge of, on picquet to cover the left front of our position.
The enemy held an opposite post on our side of the river, and I was
ordered if they were civil to me not to interfere with them, but in the
event of the reverse, to turn them over to their own side. My stomach
was more bent upon eating than fighting that evening, and I was glad
to find that they proved to be _gentlemen_, and allowed me to post my
sentries as close as I pleased without interruption.
I found one of our German hussar videttes on a rising ground near me,
and received an order from my brigadier to keep him there until he
was relieved, and I accordingly placed a rifleman alongside of him
for his better security, but after keeping him an hour or two in the
dark and no relief appearing, I was forced to let him go or to share
my slender allowance with him, for the poor fellow (as well as his
horse) was starving. I have seen the day, however, that I would rather
have dispensed with my dinner (however sharp set) than the services
of one of those thorough-bred soldiers, for they were as singularly
intelligent and useful on outpost duty, as they were effective and
daring in the field.
The first regiment of hussars were associated with our division
throughout the war and were deserved favourites. In starting from a
swampy couch and bowling along the road long ere dawn of day, it was
one of the romances of a soldier's life to hear them chanting their
national war songs--some three or four voices leading and the whole
squadron joining in the chorus. As I have already said, they were no
less daring in the field than they were surpassingly good on out-post
duty. The hussar was at all times identified with his horse, he shared
his bed and his board, and their movements were always regulated by the
importance of their mission. If we saw a British dragoon at any time
approaching in full speed, it excited no great curiosity among us, but
whenever we saw one of the first hussars coming on at a gallop it was
high time to gird on our swords and bundle up.
Their chief, too, was a perfect soldier, and worthy of being the leader
of such a band, for he was to them what the gallant Beckwith was to
us--a father, as well as a leader.
He was one who never could be caught napping. They tell a good
anecdote of him after the battle of Toulouse, when the news arrived
of the capture of Paris and Bonaparte's abdication. A staff officer
was sent to his outpost quarter to apprise him of the cessation of
hostilities--it was late when the officer arrived, and after hearing
the news, the colonel proceeded to turn into bed as usual, "all
standing," when the officer remarked with some surprise, "Why, colonel,
you surely don't mean to sleep in your clothes to-night, when you know
there is an armistice?"
"Air mistress or no air mistress," replied the veteran, "by Got I
sleeps in my breeches!"
We remained another day in front of Sabugal, and as it was known
that Reynier held that post with his single corps unsupported, Lord
Wellington resolved to punish him for his temerity.
The day dawned on the morning of the 3d of April, however, rather
inauspiciously. Aurora did not throw off her night-cap at the usual
hour, and when she could no longer delay the ceremony she shed such
an abundance of dewy tears that Sabugal, with its steel-clad heights,
remained invisible to the naked eye at the distance of a few hundred
yards, which interfered materially with that punctuality in the
combined movements so necessary to ensure the complete success of our
enterprize. Leaving, therefore, to those concerned to account for their
delays, my object in renewing this battle is to pay a last tribute to
the memory of Sir Sidney Beckwith, the hero of that day.
He, as he had been directed, moved his brigade to a ford of the Coa,
and was there waiting further orders, when a staff officer rode up, and
hastily demanded why he had not attacked?
Beckwith was an actor of the immortal Nelson's principle--that if
a commander is in doubt he never can do wrong in placing himself
alongside of the enemy. We instantly uncorked our muzzle-stoppers, off
with our lock-caps, and our four companies of riflemen, led through
the river, (which was deep and rapid,) followed by the 43d, driving in
the enemy's picquet which defended it. The officer commanding, left his
sky-blue cloak fluttering in the breeze on the top of a furze bush,
and I felt a monstrous inclination to transfer it to my own shoulders,
for it was an article of which I happened, at that moment, to be in
especial want; but as it was the beginning of a battle in place of the
end of one, and I had an insurmountable objection to fight under false
colours, I passed it by.
As soon as we gained the summit of the hill it became as clear as
the mist that we were regularly in for it. Beckwith, finding himself
alone and unsupported, in close action, with only hundreds to oppose
to the enemy's thousands, at once saw and felt all the danger of his
situation; but he was just the man to grapple with any odds, being
in his single person a host--of a tall commanding figure and noble
countenance, with a soul equal to his appearance--he was as Napier
says, "a man equal to rally an army in flight."
Our four companies had led up in skirmishing order, driving in the
enemy's light troops; but the summit was defended by a strong compact
body, against which we could make no head; but opening out, and
allowing the 43d to advance, they, with a tearing volley and a charge,
sent the enemy rolling into the valley below, when the rifles again
went to work in front, sticking to them like leeches.
The hill we had just gained became our rally-post for the remainder of
the day, and, notwithstanding the odds on the side of the enemy, they
were never able to wrest it from us. Our force was as well handled as
theirs was badly, so that in the successive and desperate encounters
which took place, both in advance and in retreat, we were as often to
be seen in their position as they were in ours.
Beckwith himself was the life and soul of the fray; he had been the
successful leader of those who were then around him in many a bloody
field, and his calm, clear, commanding voice was distinctly heard amid
the roar of battle, and cheerfully obeyed. He had but single companies
to oppose to the enemy's battalions; but, strange as it may appear, I
saw him twice lead successful charges with but two companies of the
43d, against an advancing mass of the enemy. His front, it is true, was
equal to theirs, and such was his daring, and such the confidence which
these hardy soldiers had in him, that they went as fiercely to work
single-handed as if the whole army had been at their heels.
Beckwith's manner of command on those occasions was nothing more than
a familiar sort of conversation with the soldier. To give an idea of
it I may as well mention that in the last charge I saw him make with
two companies of the 43d, he found himself at once opposed to a fresh
column in front, and others advancing on both flanks, and, seeing the
necessity for immediate retreat, he called out, "Now, my lads, we'll
just go back a little if you please." On hearing which every man began
to run, when he shouted again, "No, no, I don't mean that--we are in no
hurry--we'll just walk quietly back, and you can give them a shot as
you go along." This was quite enough, and was obeyed to the letter--the
retiring force keeping up a destructive fire, and regulating their
movements by his, as he rode quietly back in the midst of them,
conversing aloud in a cheerful encouraging manner--his eye all the
while intently watching the enemy to take advantage of circumstances.
A musket-ball had, in the meantime, shaved his forehead, and the blood
was streaming down his countenance, which added not a little to the
exciting interest of his appearance. As soon as we had got a little way
up the face of our hill, he called out, "Now, my men, this will do--let
us shew them our teeth again!" This was obeyed as steadily as if the
words halt, front, had been given on parade, and our line was instantly
in battle array, while Beckwith, shaking his fist in the faces of the
advancing foe, called out to them, "Now, you rascals, come on here if
you dare!" Those he addressed shewed no want of courage, but, for a
while, came boldly on to the tune of _old trousers_,[C] notwithstanding
the fearful havoc we were making in their ranks; but they could not
screw themselves up the long disputed hill--the 52d (two battalions)
had, by this time, come into the line of battle, and were plying them
hard on the right, while our rifles were peppering them on their front
and left, and, as soon as they came near enough, another dash by
Beckwith, at the head of the 43d, gave them the _coup de grace_. The
fate of the day was now decided--the net which had been wove in the
morning, and which the state of the weather had prevented being brought
to a crisis as soon as was intended, now began to tighten around
them--the 5th division crossed by the bridge of Sabugal, and the 3d,
(I believe,) by a ford to the right--and Reynier, seeing no hopes of
salvation but by immediate flight, very speedily betook himself to it,
and, I believe, saved all that did not fall on the field of battle--a
piece of good fortune of which his conduct that day shewed him
undeserving, for, had not the extraordinary state of the weather caused
the delays and mistakes which took place on our side, he could scarcely
have taken a man out of the field.
[C] _Old trousers_ was a name given by our soldiers to the
point of war which is beat by the French drummers in
advancing to the charge. I have, when skirmishing in
a wood, and a French regiment coming up to the relief
of the opposing skirmishers, often heard the drum
long before we saw them, and, on those occasions, our
riflemen immediately began calling to each other, from
behind the different bushes, "Holloa there! look sharp!
for damn me, but here comes old trousers!"
While standing in our last position, awaiting the attack in our front,
I was much amused in observing, on the opposite height, the approach
of our 3d division, unnoticed by the enemy--a French column occupied
the top of what seemed to be almost a precipice overlooking the river;
but I observed some of the 60th rifles clambering up the face of it on
all fours, and, to see their astonishment, when they poked their heads
over the brink, to find themselves within a couple of yards of a French
column! They, of course, immediately concealed themselves under the
bank; but it was curious to observe that they were unseen by the enemy,
who were imprudent enough either to consider themselves secure on that
side, or to give all their attention to the fight going on between
their comrades and us; but certain it is they allowed the riflemen to
gather there in formidable numbers. As we advanced immediately, the
intervening rising ground prevented my seeing what took place, but on
crowning the opposite height, which the French had just evacuated,
we found, by the bodies on the ground, that they had just received a
volley from a part of the third division--and one of the most deadly
which had been fired that day.
Our cavalry had been astray during the fight, but they afterwards made
two or three ineffectual attempts to break in upon the enemy's line of
retreat.
Immediately after the action, we drew up behind an old cow-shed, which
Lord Wellington occupied for a short time, while it poured torrents of
rain. Sir William Erskine, with some of his horsemen, joined us there,
and I heard him say to the commander-in-chief that he claimed no merit
for the victory, as it belonged alone to Sidney Beckwith! I believe his
lordship wanted no conjurer to tell him so, and did ample justice to
the combatants, by stating in his dispatch that "this was one of the
most glorious actions that British troops were ever engaged in."
To those accustomed to the vicissitudes of warfare it is no less
curious to remark the many miraculous escapes from wounds than the
recovery from them. As an instance of the former, I may observe, that,
in the course of the action just related, I was addressing a passing
remark to an officer near me, who, in turning round to answer, raised
his right foot, and I observed a grape shot tear up the print which it
had but that instant left in the mud. As an instance of the latter I
shall here relate, (though rather misplaced,) that, at the storming of
Badajos, in April, 1812, one of our officers got a musket-ball in the
right ear, which came out at the back of the neck, and, though after
a painful illness, he recovered, yet his head got a twist, and he was
compelled to wear it, looking over the right shoulder. At the battle of
Waterloo, in 1815, (having been upwards of three years with his neck
awry,) he received a shot in the left ear, which came out within half
an inch of his former wound in the back of the neck, and it set his
head straight again!
This is an anecdote which I should scarcely have dared to relate were
it not that, independent of my personal knowledge of the facts, the
hero of it still lives to speak for himself, residing on his property,
in Nottinghamshire, alike honoured and respected as a civilian, as he
was loved and esteemed as a gentleman and a gallant soldier.[D]
[D] Lieutenant Worsley.
After the action at Sabugal our brigade was placed under cover in the
town, and a wild night it proved--the lightning flashed--the winds
howled--and the rains rained. The house occupied by my brother sub and
myself was a two-story one, and floored after the manner of some of
our modern piers, with the boards six inches apart, and transferrable,
if necessary, to a wider range, without the trouble of extracting or
unscrewing nails.
The upper floor, as the most honoured portion, was assigned to us,
while the first was reserved for the accommodation of some ten or a
dozen well-starved inmates.
We had scarcely proceeded to dry our clothes, and to masticate the few
remaining crumbs of biscuit, when we received a deputation from the
lower regions, craving permission to join the mess; but, excepting the
scrapings of our haversacks, we had literally nothing for ourselves,
and were forced to turn a deaf ear to their entreaties, for there was
no making them believe we were as destitute as we seemed. It was one
of those cruel scenes to which the seats of war alone can furnish
parallels, for their wan and wasted countenances shewed that they were
wildly in want.
The following day saw Portugal cleared of its invaders, and the British
standard once more unfurled within the Spanish boundary.
The French army retired behind the Agueda, and our division took
possession of a portion of its former quarters, Fuentes d'Onoro,
Gallegos, and Espeja. There we enjoyed a few days repose, of which we
stood in much need, it having been exactly a month since we broke up in
front of Santarem, and, as the foregoing pages shew, it was not spent
in idleness.
CHAP. VIII.
National Characters. Adventures of a pair of leather Breeches.
Ditto of a pound of Beef. Shewing what the French General did
not do, and a Prayer which he did not pray; with a few random
Shots.
Fuentes, which was our first resting place, was a very handsome
village, and every family so well known to the light division, that no
matter into which quarter the billet fell, the individual was received
as an old and approved friend.
The change from Portugal into Spain, as alluded to in my first work,
was very striking. In the former the monkish cowl seemed even on
ordinary occasions to be drawn over the face of nature; for though
their sun was a heavenly one, it shone over a dark and bigotted race;
and though they were as ripe for mischief as those of more enlightened
nations, yet even in that they were woefully defective, and their
joys seemed often sadly miscalled. But at the time I speak of, as if
to shroud every thing in unfathomable gloom, the ravages of the enemy
had turned thousands of what (to them) were happy homes, into as many
hells--their domestic peace ruined--their houses and furniture fired,
and every countenance bearing the picture of melancholy and wan despair.
Their damsels' cheeks wore no roses, yet did they wear soil enough on
which to rear them. But at the same time be it remarked that I quarrel
not with the countenance but with the soil, for I am a pale lover
myself.
In Spain, on the contrary, health and joy seemed to beam on every
countenance, and comfort in every dwelling. I have observed some
writers quarrel with my former statement on this subject, and maintain
that though the difference in appearance was remarkable, that so
far as regards the article of cleanliness, the facts were not so.
With these, however, I must still differ after giving every thing due
consideration. The Portuguese did not assume to be a cleanly race,
and they were a filthy one in reality. The Spaniards did affect to
be the former, and I do think that they approached it as nearly as
may be. I allude to the peasantry, for the upper and middling classes
sink into immeasurable contempt in the comparison, but their peasantry
I still maintain are as fine and as cleanly a class as I ever saw.
Their dress is remarkably handsome, and though I can give no opinion
as to the weekly value of soap expended on their manly countenances,
yet in regard to the shirt, which is their greatest pride, and neatly
embroidered in the bosom according to the position of the wearer in
the minds of those on whom that portion of the ornamental devolves, I
can vouch for their having shewn a clean one as often as need be. And
though I do not feel myself at liberty to enter into the details of the
dress of their lovely black-eyed damsels, I may be permitted to say
that it is highly becoming to them; and, in short, I should have some
dread of staking our national credit by parading the inmates of any
chance village of our own against a similar one of theirs.
Their houses too are remarkably neat and cleanly, and would be
comfortable were it not for those indefatigable villainous insects that
play at a perpetual hop, skip, and jump, giving occasional pinches
to the exposed parts of the inmate; and yet what warm country is
exempt from them or something worse. Go into boasted America, and so
great is the liberty of all classes there, that what with the hum of
the musquitto above, and the bug below the blanket, the unfortunate
wight, as I can testify, is regularly _hum-bugged_ out of his natural
repose. As I have taken a trip across the Atlantic for the foregoing
example, I cannot resist giving an anecdote to shew that our brethren
on that side of the water sometimes have a night's rest sacrificed to
_inexpressible_ causes as well as natural ones.
A gentleman at the head of the law there, (not the hangman,) told me
that in his early days while the roads were yet in their infancy, he
was in the habit of going his circuit on horseback, with nothing but
a change of linen tacked to his crupper--that one day he had been
overtaken by a shower of rain before he could reach the lonely cottage,
which he had destined for his night's repose--and that it interfered
materially with the harmony which had hitherto existed between him
and his leather breeches, for he felt uncomfortable in them, and he
felt uncomfortable out of them, arising from the dread that he might
never be able to get into them again. His landlady, however, succeeded
in allaying his fears for the moment, and having lent him one of her
nether garments for present use, she finally consigned him to bed, with
injunctions to sleep undisturbed, for that she would take especial
care, while they underwent the necessary fiery ordeal, that she would
put that within which should preserve their capacities undiminished.
Notwithstanding the satisfactory assurance on the part of the dame, a
doubt continued still to hang on the mind of the man in the petticoat;
and as "the mind disturbed denies the body rest," so was every attempt
of his to close an eye, met by the vision of a pair of shrivelled
leathers, until at length in a fit of feverish excitement he started
from his couch determined to know the worst; and throwing open the door
of the kitchen, he, to his no small astonishment, beheld his leathers
not only filled, but well filled too, by the landlady herself, who
there stood in them, toasting and turning round and round; neither so
gracefully nor so fast as Taglioni, perhaps, but still she kept turning
all the same; and it, most probably, was the smoke arising from the
lawyer's wet leathers which Tom Moore saw curling so gracefully above
the green elms when he wrote the Woodpecker.
But to return to the Peninsula. While it must be admitted that the
hidalgo's evil is the lesser, I could, nevertheless, wish that the
good old Spaniard would march a little more with the spirit of the
times, for by the ordinary use of a small-tooth comb, he might be
enabled to limit his _hair_ hunting to the sports of the field.
The day after our arrival at Fuentes I was amused to hear one of our
soldiers describing to a comrade his last night's fare in the new
quarter. Soon after his taking possession of it, three days' rations
had been served out to him, and his landlady, after reconnoitring it
for a while with a wistful eye, at length proposed that they should
mess together while he remained in their house, to which he readily
assented; and by way of making a fair beginning, he cut off about a
pound of the beef which he handed over to her, but at the same time
allowing her about as much play with it as a cat does to a mouse--a
precaution which he had reason to rejoice in, for he presently found
it transferred to a kettle then boiling on the fire, containing, as
he said, thirteen buckets of water, in which his pound of beef was
floating about like a cork in the middle of the ocean! "Hilloah, my
nice woman, says I, if you and I are to mess together I'll just trouble
you to take out twelve buckets and a half of that water, and in place
thereof, that you will be pleased to put in a pound of beef for every
mouth which you intend shall keep mine in company--and if you choose to
give some butter or a slice or two of bacon in addition, I shall not
object to it, but I'll have none of your gammon!" The dispute ended in
the rifleman's being obliged to fish out his pound of beef and keep it
under his own protection.
Our repose in Fuentes was short. The garrison of Almeida was blockaded
with a fortnight's provision only, and two companies of ours under
Colonel Cameron were immediately dispatched to shoot their bullocks
while grazing on the ramparts, which still further contracted their
means of subsistence.
Lord Wellington had in the mean time hurried off to the south in
consequence of the pressing importance of the operations of the corps
under Marshal Beresford, leaving the main army for the time being under
the command of Sir Brent Spencer. In the afternoon of the 16th of April
we were hastily ordered under arms, and passing through Gallegos we
were halted behind a hill on the banks of the Agueda, when we found
that the movement had been occasioned by the passing of a convoy
of provisions which the enemy were attempting to throw into Ciudad
Rodrigo, and which was at that moment with its escort of two hundred
men shut up in some inclosures of stone walls within half a mile of us
surrounded by our dragoons.
I don't know how it happened, but we were kept there inactive for a
couple of hours with eight thousand men sending in summonses for them
to surrender, when a couple of our idle guns would have sent the loose
wall about their ears and made them but too happy to be allowed to do
so. But as it was, the garrison of Ciudad Rodrigo came out and carried
them off triumphantly from under our noses.
"There's nae luck about the house,
There's nae luck ava;
There's nae luck about the house,
When our gude man's awa."
This was the most critical period of the whole war; the destinies not
only of England but of Europe hung upon it, and all hinged on the
shoulders of one man,--that man was Wellington! I believe there were
few even of those who served under him capable of knowing, still less
of appreciating, the nature of the master-mind which there, with God's
assistance, ruled all things; for he was not only the head of the army
but obliged to descend to the responsibility of every department in
it. In the different branches of their various duties, he received
the officers in charge, as ignorant as schoolboys, and, by his energy
and unwearied perseverance, he made them what they became--the most
renowned army that Europe ever saw. Wherever he went at its head, glory
followed its steps--wherever he was not--I will not say disgrace,
but something near akin to it ensued, for it is singular enough
to remark that of all the distinguished generals who held separate
commands in that army throughout the war Lord Hill alone (besides
the commander-in-chief) came out of it with his fame untarnished
by any palpable error. In all his battles Lord Wellington appeared
to us never to leave any thing to chance. However desperate the
undertaking--whether suffering under momentary defeat, or imprudently
hurried on by partial success--we ever felt confident that a redeeming
power was at hand, nor were we ever deceived. Those only, too, who
have served under such a master-mind and one of inferior calibre can
appreciate the difference in a physical as well as a moral point of
view--for when in the presence of the enemy, under him, we were never
deprived of our personal comforts until prudence rendered it necessary,
and they were always restored to us again at the earliest possible
moment. Under the temporary command of others we have been deprived of
our baggage for weeks through the timidity of our chief, and without
the shadow of necessity; and it is astonishing in what a degree the
vacillation and want of confidence in a commander descends into the
different ranks.
Of all the commanders in that army at the period I speak of, none
stood more distinguished than he who was for the moment our head (the
gallant Spencer,) and yet, singularly enough, the moment he was left to
himself, not only his usual daring but all spirit of enterprise seemed
to have forsaken him. Witness the escape of the French detachment
as just related, as well as the various subsequent movements under
him; whereas, within a few days, when in the field of Fuentes under
Wellington, he was himself again.
While halted behind the hill already mentioned, I got my first
look at the celebrated Guerilla chief, Don Julian Sanchez. He was
a middling-sized thick-set fellow, with a Spanish complexion, well
whiskered and mustached, with glossy black hair, and dressed in a
hussar uniform. The peasantry of that part of the country used to tell
rather a romantic story of the cause which induced him to take up
arms,--namely, that the French had maltreated and afterwards murdered
his wife and family before his face, besides firing his house, (cause
enough in all conscience,) and for which he amply revenged himself,
for he became the most celebrated throat-cutter in that part of the
world. His band when he first took the field did not exceed fifty
men, but about the period I speak of his ranks had swelled to about
fifteen hundred. They were a contemptible force in the field, but
brave, enterprising, and useful in their mountain fastnesses--in
cutting off supplies and small detachments. I did not see his troops
until some time after, when his heavy dragoons one day crossed our line
of march. They afterwards cut a more respectable figure; but at that
period they looked a regular set of ragamuffins, wearing cocked hats
with broad white lace round the edges; yellow coats, with many more
than button-holes, and red facings; breeches of various colours and no
stockings, but a sort of shoe on the foot with a spur attached, and
their arms were as various as their colours; some with lances, some
with carabines, and in short, every one seemed as if he had equipped
himself in whatever the fortune of war had thrown in his way.
As the battle of Fuentes approached, our life became one of perpetual
motion, and when I raised my head from its stone pillow in the morning,
it was a subject of speculation to guess within a league of its next
resting place, although we were revolving within a very limited space.
Nothing clings so tenaciously to my mind as the remembrance of the
different spots on which I have passed a night. Out of six years
campaigning it is probable that I slept at least half the period under
the open canopy of heaven, (barring latterly a sheet of canvas,) and
though more than twenty years have since rolled over my head, I think I
could still point out my every resting place.
On the night of the 1st of May I was sent from Alameda with thirty
riflemen and six dragoons to watch a ford of the Agueda. The French
held a post on the opposite side--but at daylight in the morning I
found they had disappeared. Seeing a Spanish peasant descending on the
opposite bank--and the river not being fordable to a person on foot,
while its continuous roaring through its rugged course drowned every
other voice--I detached one of the dragoons, who brought him over
behind him, and as he told me that the French were, at that moment, on
the move to the left, I immediately transmitted the information to head
quarters. I was soon after ordered to join my battalion, which I found
lodged in a stubble field about half way between Gallegos and Alameda,
on a piece of rising ground which we had christened Kraüchenberg's
hill, in compliment to that gallant captain of German hussars, who,
with his single troop, had made a brilliant and successful charge from
it the year before on the enemy's advancing horsemen.
The following night we had gone to bed in the village of Espeja, but
were called to arms in the middle of it, and took post in the wood
behind.
With the enemy close upon us, our position was any thing but a safe
one; but, as it included a conical hill, which commanded a view of
their advance, Lord Wellington was anxious to retain it until the last
possible moment.
The chief of the German hus
Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/44965