The Adventures of Captain John Patterson
by John Patterson · English · Gutenberg #46131 · 478,586 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Adventures of Captain John Patterson
Author: John Patterson
Release date: June 29, 2014 [eBook #46131]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN JOHN PATTERSON ***
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without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have
been retained as printed.
Words printed in italics are marked with underlines: _italics_.
THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN JOHN PATTERSON,
WITH NOTICES OF THE OFFICERS, &c. OF THE 50th,
OR
QUEEN'S OWN REGIMENT, FROM 1807 TO 1821.
LONDON:
T. & W. BOONE, 29, NEW BOND STREET.
1837.
T. C. NEWBY, PRINTER, BURY ST. EDMUND'S.
TO
THE QUEEN'S
MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY.
MADAM,
Encouraged by the very flattering manner in which your Majesty
condescended to present the 50th with the Colours which they now
carry, as well as by a high sense of the honour conferred upon the
Regiment when they were styled the "Queen's Own," I have presumed to
dedicate to your Majesty this feeble record of their services during
the late War.
I am fully assured that in whatever quarter of the globe their colours
may be displayed, it will be to gain new honours in the field, and
that, therefore, the Regiment will ever maintain that place in your
Majesty's favour, which they have had the singular good fortune to
acquire.
I have the honour to be, Madam,
Your Majesty's most obedient,
and very faithful Subject,
JOHN PATTERSON,
CAPTAIN,
Late of the 50th, or Queen's Own Regiment.
_Liverpool,
25th October, 1836._
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
The Author's motives. His entrance into military life. Sketches of
officers. Lieutenant Colonel Stewart. Lieutenant Colonel White. A
harassing march. Changes of name in the 50th regiment. Arrival at
Portsmouth. The embarkation.
CHAPTER II.
The expedition under sail. Rough weather in the Bay of Biscay.
Christmas festivities prevented. The expedition is compelled to put
back. The troops are relanded. The expedition sails again. Its arrival
at Gibraltar. Motley population of the place. The library. Excessive
heat of the climate. Sluggishness of promotion. The expedition arrives
at Cadiz. Dull cruize. Spanish attack on the French fleet. Visit to
Cadiz.
CHAPTER III.
Campaign in Portugal. Arrival at Mondego Bay. A cool disembarkation.
Bustle of encamping. Skirmish at Obidos. Action at Roliça. Death of
Colonel Lake. March of the army towards Vimeiro. Junot's contempt of
the British. Battle of Vimeiro. The British troops resolve to gain
abundant laurels. Appearance of the country. Death of Colonel Coote.
French attack repulsed. Spirit of a Highland piper. Rout of the
French. Relics left behind by them. Death of Colonel Taylor. Bivouac
after the battle. Convention of Cintra.
CHAPTER IV.
March to Lisbon. Enthusiastic reception of the English army. Danger of
night rambles. Encampment at Monte Santo. The army marches towards the
frontier. Santarem. A domestic occupation. Bad quarters. Pleasant life
of a soldier. Description of troops on their march. Bustling second
Majors. March of the army resumed. Picturesque scenes on the Tagus.
Kindness of Major Napier. Ravages committed by the French. Difficulty
of communicating with the natives. Signs substituted for speech.
Hospitality at Guarda. Inhospitality at Ciudad Rodrigo. Arrival at
Salamanca. Friendly conduct of the inhabitants.
CHAPTER V.
March to Salamanca. Sir David Baird. Passage of the Esla. Merit of the
camp females. Halt at Lugo. Short commons. Suffering from want of
sleep. Lieutenant McCarthy. Inclemency of the weather. Exertions of
Sir David Baird. Distribution of shoes. Odd fits. Scarcity of
provisions. Dough boys. Delights and disappointments of tea-drinking.
Destruction of the money-chests. Wretched situation of the women and
children. Tattered clothing. A dandy in spite of all obstacles.
Bravery of the rear guard. Stupidity of the peasants. Corunna in
sight.
CHAPTER VI.
The troops at Corunna. Alarming explosion of a powder magazine. The
brigade takes up a position near Corunna. Admirable conduct of Sir
John Moore. Positions of the hostile armies. French clamours in the
field. The outposts are attacked. Bravery of Major Napier. Captain
Clunes. New mode of dislodging French soldiers. Cookery spoiled. Major
Napier is wounded and made prisoner. Death of Major Stanhope, and of
other officers. A presentiment. Preparations to embark. Burial of
Major Stanhope. Embarkation of the army. Anger of Soult. Loss of the
Mary transport ship. Departure from Spain.
CHAPTER VII.
Quarters at Braborne Lees. Removal to Ashford. Character of the 85th
and 68th regiments. Quarters at Ashford. Hauteur of the Ashfordians.
Quarters at Reading Street. Officers ordered to the Isle of Wight.
Ludicrous journey thither. The troops embark for Walcheren. The troops
disembark near Camp Vere. Desolate appearance of Flushing after its
surrender. Sufferings of the inhabitants. The marsh fever breaks out.
Mortality caused by it. Kindness of the Dutch. Visit to Middleburgh.
Cleanness and neatness of the town. Apathy of the Dutch. Singular
sleeping arrangement. The troops embark for England. They go into
quarters. Porchester castle. Albany barracks. Visit of the Author to
Ireland. Quarters at East Bourne.
CHAPTER VIII.
The 1st battalion is ordered to Portugal. Lord Balgonie. Arrival at
Lisbon. March to Abrantes. Bad quarters at Abrantes. Halt at Garvao. A
family at Gafete. Bugs left as a legacy by the French. Situation of
Portalegre. The grand Cathedral. Seclusion of the fair sex at
Portalegre. Encampment on the heights of Torre de Moro. Camp comforts.
Arrival at Borba. Beauty of the country round Borba. Delightful garden
of Don Juan de Almeida. Style of building at Borba. Nunnery of St.
Clara. The Capuchin convent. Jollity of the Monks. The Convent
Kitchen. Return to Portalegre. Terrible fatigue endured. Death of
Ensign Hay. Wretched Winter Quarters. The crabbed Donna Elvira and her
gloomy abode.
CHAPTER IX.
General Hill is despatched to surprise General Girard's corps. The
heights of Alegrete. The division encounters a furious storm. Halt at
Codiceira. Kindness of the hostess. Superciliousness of the dragoon
officers. Offensive and absurd superiority assumed by a dragoon
colonel. Folly of such conduct. Anecdote of a dandy officer. "Blanket
merchants." The town of Albuquerque. Appearance of the women at
Malpartida. Miseries of a bivouac on a rainy night. Arrival at Arroyo
del Molino. The enemy is defeated. Arrival at Merida. Ruined state of
the town. Bridge over the Guadiana. Description of Campo Mayor.
Charnel house. Quarters at Campo Mayor.
CHAPTER X.
Quarters at Albuquerque and Portalegre. House in which the Author was
quartered. March to Don Benito. Family of Don Diego Ramirez. Style of
living. The second division sent to the neighbourhood of Badajos. The
author visits Badajos. Difficulty of approach. Description of the
defences of the breaches. Enormities committed after the storming of
the place. Bravery of Lieut. McCarthy.
CHAPTER XI.
Arrival at Truxillo. A force detached to reduce the Forts of Almaraz.
Solitariness of the march. Arrangements for the attack. Hot fire from
the enemy. Obstinate defence of Fort Napoleon. Death of Captain Robert
Candler. The Fort is carried by storm. Bravery and fall of Clarimont,
the governor. The tête du pont is carried by the Highlanders. Fort
Ragusa is abandoned by the garrison. Lieut. Thiele is blown up. Loss
sustained by the two victors. The two Irish brothers, Larry and Pat
Egan. Repast after the success.
CHAPTER XII.
The troops return to Truxillo. Description of Truxillo. The Pizarro
palace. A paltry bull-fight. March to Fuentes del Maestro. Quarters at
Don Benito. Kindness of the inhabitants. Wedding at Don Benito. The
bride and bridegroom described. Assemblies in the town. Dress of the
ladies. Departure from Don Benito. March to Villa Mercia. Sad want of
fuel. The bullock-cart. Sierra de Santa Cruz. Banditti-like shepherds.
The troops march to Toledo. Warm reception given to them by the
inhabitants. Situation of Toledo. Magnificence of the cathedral.
Skeleton of St. Ursula. Beautiful paintings. The largest bell in
Europe. Persons and dress of the ladies of Toledo. Dress of the men.
Departure from Toledo. Bivouac on the banks of the Tagus. Tedious road
to Aranjuez. Arrival at Aranjuez. Ravages committed by the French. The
queen's palace. Gardens and groves of the place.
CHAPTER XIII.
Excursion to Madrid with a brother officer. The travellers lose their
way. A surly Don refuses admission. They arrive at Villa Conejo. The
inhabitants of the valleys are often robbers. Sinister countenances of
some of the villagers. The travellers at last obtain a shelter. They
enter Madrid. A troublesome Alcalde. Our host in love. Custom of
separating males from females in the Spanish theatres. Riotous conduct
of the audience in the pit. Blundering actors. An ill-looking
prompter. Gaiety of the people of Madrid. La China and the Retiro.
Palace of Godoy. Distress in Madrid. Difficulty of obtaining admission
into the houses in Madrid.
CHAPTER XIV.
The travellers return to Aranjuez. March of the army towards Madrid.
Halt at the Escurial. Situation of the Palace. Enormous magnitude of
the building. The army proceeds on its march. Description of the pass
of Guadarama. Sculpture in the pass. The army halts at Alba de Tormes.
it moves on towards the Aripiles. Sufferings from the weather during
the march. Difficulty of procuring subsistence and fire. A pig-hunt.
Halt at Robledo. Arrival at Coria. Noisy belles and corpulent monks.
Priest's wine. Ugliness of the females of Coria. Death of General
Stewart, and Brigadier General Wilson. Description of the Belem
Rangers.
CHAPTER XV.
March of the regiment to Monte Hermosa. Banditti in the neighbourhood.
Journey to Placentia. Description of the party. Forest of Carcaboso.
The author arrives at Placentia. He is quartered at the house of
Francisco Barona. His host's wife and her lover. Return from
Placentia. Fears of some of the travellers. Peasantry of Monte Hermosa
described. Amusements of the Villagers. Inharmonious music and heavy
dancing.
CHAPTER XVI.
March from Villa Hermosa. Bridge at Gihon. Halt at La Sacita. The
author is quartered at the house of Bernardo Lopez. Hospitality of his
host. The march resumed. Puerto de Banos. Arrival at Bejar. Warm
reception given to the troops. Fears entertained of the French.
Situation of Bejar. The troops are kept constantly on the alert. Hard
duty. Assemblies and dances. Conduct of the Dons in the ball-room.
Palace of the Duke of Ossuna. Name-day entertainments. The Carnival
at Bejar. The Rabo. The Pillijo. The priests fond of gambling. Wool
carding. Idleness of the men. Tertullias. General Foy attacks Bejar. He
is defeated. Gratitude of the inhabitants of Bejar.
CHAPTER XVII.
The regiment quits Bejar. March through the Valley of the Ebro. Halt
at La Puebla. Orders given to prepare for action. Battle of Vittoria.
Hungry condition of the British troops. Colonel Cadogan is killed. His
character. Birds'-eye view of the battle-field. Ruse de guerre of the
French. Pathetic recognition of a slain brother. Close of the battle.
Flight of the French. Vexation of a Scotch economical officer. Night
bivouac.
CHAPTER XVIII.
March to Pampeluna. A storm in the Pyrenees. Lieut. Masterman killed
by lightning. Movements on the enemy's flanks. Beauty of the Vale of
Bastan. Halt of the army near Elisonda. Marshal Soult resolves to
regain his lost ground. Another storm in the Pyrenees. Advance of the
French against the British. The British outposts are driven in.
Destructive fire of the Riflemen. Several officers are killed. Cool
courage of Lieut. Brown. Bravery of Colonel O'Callaghan. Daring
conduct of the French Officers. Colonel Hill severely wounded. The
British are forced to retire. The French Riflemen again. Lieut.
Birchall killed. Successful charge on the French. Killed and wounded
officers. The battle terminates in favour of the British.
CHAPTER XIX.
The Author is wounded in the battle of the Pyrenees. He is sent to the
hospital station at Vittoria. Motley group of the wounded. The Author
is quartered on a partisan of the French. Lieutenant Pattison. Captain
Gough. Vittoria and its vicinity. Melancholy fate of Captain Gore.
Celebration of a great festival at Vittoria. Ludicrous antics of the
townspeople. The Author sets out for Bilboa. Apparently cannibal
innkeeper at Tolosa. Arrival at Bilboa. The Author embarks for
England. Singular entrance to the port where he embarked. He lands at
Plymouth.
CHAPTER XX.
Exploits of the 50th regiment subsequent to the Author's leaving
Spain. Action at Aire. Death of Lieutenant D. McDonald. Good fortune
of Lieutenant Colonel Harrison. Officers killed and wounded in the
campaign of 1814. Estimate of the relative merit of the soldiery of
various countries. Of the English. Of the Scotch. Of the Irish. Of the
Germans. Characters of Captain Philip Blassiere.
CHAPTER XXI.
The 50th regiment in quarters at Aughnacloy. It removes to
Enniskillen. Recruiting quarters at Londonderry. Still hunting.
Disgusting nature of that service. Stratagems of the illicit
distillers. Pursuit of outlaws and robbers. Magennis, a noted villain.
He eludes all pursuit. Lieutenant Plunkett resolves to apprehend him.
Notice of Lieutenant Plunkett's military career. He succeeds in
seizing Magennis. The informer is murdered.
CHAPTER XXII.
The Author is ordered to join the regiment in the West Indies. He
embarks at Cove. Uncomfortable state of the sleeping berths. Pleasant
society on board. The pilot is charged with numerous farewells. Sea
sickness. No compassion felt for its victims. Amusing talents of Mr.
Charles. Disasters at dinner and tea in the Bay of Biscay. Approach to
Madeira. Preparations for warm weather. Attack on the turtle. Jeopardy
of the assailants. Palma and Teneriffe in sight. Attempted suicide of
a soldier. Beauty of the nights. Dancing and singing on board.
Crossing the Line. Consequences of the excesses connected with this
mummery. Land in sight. Arrival at Jamaica. A black pilot. Prying
visitors from the shore.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Visit to Port Royal. Tavern there. Description of Port Royal. The
Author lands at Kingston. He proceeds to Up-Park Camp. Terrible
mortality among the troops. Death of Colonel Hill. His character.
Picturesque situation of Up-Park Camp. Its extreme insalubrity. Duties
in camp. Black female pedlars. Second breakfast. Cricket. Evening
Parade. Dinner. Insufferable heat of mid-day. Injurious effect of the
night dews. Excessive thirst and excessive drinking. A singular idea
of a fine country. Danger of being exposed to the heavy rains. Death
of Lieut. Richardson. Shipwreck and death of Mrs. Ross. Description of
Kingston. Extortionate conduct of the Hotel-keepers. Character of the
Kingston ladies. Their extreme love of dancing. Drowsiness and apathy
of the males. Unhealthiness of Spanish Town.
CHAPTER XXIV.
The author embarks for England. Course of the vessel. Sharks not
palatable food. A visit from a Buenos Ayres privateer. Rough weather.
A northwester hurricane. Its terrific appearance and effects. Misery
below deck. Meritorious conduct of Mr. Grant, the Mate. He is swept
away by a billow. The hurricane ceases. Vigorous attack on the
breakfast. Passengers in the vessel. One of them is sickly; another is
crack-brained. Misfortunes encountered by the latter. The Author lands
at Deal.
ERRATA.
Page 6, 8 lines from bottom, for "queses," read "cues."
12, 5 lines from bottom, for "groops," read "groupes."
40, 2 lines from bottom, for "60th," read "50th."
46, 12 lines from bottom, for "among wood," read "among the
wood."
48, In the list of killed, &c. at Vimeiro, instead of the
passage printed, read "Capt. A. G. Coote, killed;
Major Charles Hill, and Lieutenant J. N. Wilson,
wounded."
69, 4 lines from bottom, for "blackening," read "blanching."
135, 9 lines from bottom, for "throgout," read "throughout."
149, 4 lines from bottom, for "Caja," read "Caio."
192, 5 lines from top, for "wood," read "mood."
199, 6 lines from bottom, for "Chandler," read "Candler."
203, 4 lines from bottom, for "Thril," read "Thiele."
221, 6 lines from bottom, for "mach," read "march."
265, 2 lines from top, for "firm," read "fine."
314, 2 lines from bottom, for "70th," read "71st."
344, 11 lines from bottom, for "Settimo," read "Septimo."
352, 5 lines from top, for "Lieutenant General Bartley,
Lieutenant General Power," read "Lieutenant
George Bartley, Lieutenant Power."
352, at the top, for "Lieutenant and Adjutant D. McDonald,"
read "Lieutenant Duncan McDonald."
389, 3 lines from top, instead of "to behold with what vanity
as well as delight not a few," should read, "to behold
with what delight as well as vanity not a few."
390, 2 lines from bottom, for "Wailey," read "Warley."
ADVENTURES.
CHAPTER I.
It seems to be a general custom for the retired soldier, after he has
sheathed his now harmless blade, to wield the pen, and, looking back
upon his past campaigns, deliver "a round unvarnished tale." I have no
wish to be singular, by making myself an exception to the rule; on the
contrary, I am rather desirous of appearing on the list of those who
fight their battles o'er again. I shall, therefore, as a young
recruit, take part among the troop of scribblers; and, without any
unnecessary preamble, assign one reason for my embarking in the cause.
Among the various military narratives, written to edify the world,
nothing has yet transpired regarding the old Fiftieth; not a single
champion has been bold enough to step forward, and say a word or two
in favour of that corps. Now, as the battalion, whenever the pebbles
were flying about, was never in the back ground, there can be no
excuse for silence upon the subject. Moreover, the high esteem in
which I hold the companions of many a hard fought day prompts me to
offer this feeble record of their services, so far as I have witnessed
them; and, at the same time, to endeavour to rescue from oblivion, the
memory of those brave men, who fell for their country. It perhaps may
be asserted, that the interest in all such matters is now gone by, and
that it is a hackneyed, dry, and threadbare theme; but I must beg
leave to differ from those sapient persons, who perchance may
entertain this notion.
The scenes in this eventful war were ever changing; each performer ran
a career as varied as the clime or country through which he travelled;
in fact, so diversified were the circumstances, that if every
individual from the drum-boy upwards, were to write his own
adventures, I am well convinced, the story would not be wholly devoid
of interest, because it would at least have novelty to recommend it.
As for the movements and operations of the army, in the Spanish
peninsula, they have been already well described by Colonel Napier;
and therefore I consider that any account, even from the most talented
pen, would be superfluous, after the details which have been so
clearly given by that able historian.
The hurried nature of our service rendered it impossible for us to see
beyond the surface. We were scarcely ever allowed to remain more than
a day or two, in any town worthy particular notice. The woods and
wilds were generally the places of our habitation. From this cause,
description will necessarily be meagre, and little more than an
unfinished sketch, or outline, can be looked for. I shall confine
myself to things that fell within the range of personal observation,
many of which were noted down in a journal at the time; and in doing
so I may hope to introduce some gleanings, not wholly worthless, that
may have escaped the cognizance of others more experienced, and who
even were long before me in the field. If the general reader should
deem my preliminary matter to be of minor importance, I must beg to
remind him, that there are many veterans to whom it will appear in a
different light; and I must solicit his patience till I can lead him
into more stirring scenes.
Having, in August 1807, received a commission in his Majesty's 50th,
or West Kent regiment, I joined the 2nd battalion of that corps,
commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Stewart, at Deal barracks, on
the 17th of the following month. It was composed chiefly of young
recruits and of volunteers from the English Militia, and was
undergoing a strict course of drill; the whole of the officers and men
being diligently employed in practising the manual and platoon
exercise, marching, countermarching, and the balance step.
Lieutenant-Colonel Stewart, who had lately been promoted from the
53rd, in which he had served for some years, was an old and very
distinguished officer, having encountered the vicissitudes of war, in
almost every quarter into which the British arms were carried. In the
East Indies, while present at the siege of Seringapatam, as Captain of
the 71st Highlanders, he bore a conspicuous part, when leading his
company to the assault of that fortress, in which he was severely
wounded. He was a hardy Northern, skilled in martial science, and was
as eminent in those qualities which are required for training up the
young battalion as for those which are displayed in manoeuvring the
more experienced in the field. His hoary locks, well blanched by many
a hard campaign, indicated the length of service to which his best
days had been devoted, while his penetrating expression of countenance
indicated the active mind, and the abilities, by which he was so
highly distinguished.
In the adjoining barrack lay the 29th or Worcestershire regiment,
commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Daniel White. It had lately returned
from Halifax, where it had been stationed for many years.--Being in
preparation for active employment, it was now passing through the
usual ordeal of drill and ball practise; and consequently the
interminable sounds of drums, and bugles, the monotonous din of the
drill serjeants' "as you were," accompanied by the clamour from the
Adjutants' stentorian lungs, were continually wringing in our ears.
The 29th was a fine regiment, although it had been trained up after
the manner of the old school. Their Lieutenant-Colonel, a gallant
veteran,[1] shewing the example, made his officers dress with cocked
hat square to the front, long queses, and wide skirted coats, fastened
or looped back with hook and eye--They had rather too much of the
antique about them, and were considerably improved by getting into a
more modern style of costume.
[1] This fine old officer was killed at the battle of
Talavera, while nobly leading his regiment to the charge.
We were enlivened by their excellent band; and their corps of black
drummers cut a fierce and remarkable appearance, while hammering away
on their brass drums. This regiment, when complete, was sent to
Portugal, where by its good conduct it acquired as large a share of
laurels as any other in the Peninsular army.
The 2nd battalion of the 50th marched, on the 8th of October, 1807, to
the town of Ashford in Kent, at which place we had excellent
accommodation and good barracks.
An order soon after arrived for a draught, consisting of one Captain,
two Subalterns, and 150 men, to proceed forthwith to join the 1st
battalion, then on its route to Portsmouth. The detachment left
Ashford on the 16th of November, under the command of Captain H. I.
Phelps.[2]
[2] Captain Phelps, was shortly after exchanged into the
80th and consequently was not among the number who embarked
with the 1st battalion.
The 1st battalion of the 50th, or West Kent regiment, commanded by
Lieutenant-Colonel George Townsend Walker, was, at that time, above a
thousand strong, having been completed by men from the second
battalion, on its return from the expedition to Copenhagen. In
addition to the old hands, they obtained a full supply of young active
fellows, who had volunteered from the English Militia,--the whole,
officers as well as privates, were in good health and spirits, elated
with the prospect of active service, and looking forward to new
adventures as well as to encountering the enemy in the field. But it
was not alone by numerical strength or physical power that the 50th
was likely to be formidable. There was likewise an "esprit de corps,"
a high tone of feeling among them, producing a moral force not easily
to be overcome.
When, after a long and harassing route, on a dismal wintry day in
October, the men marched up the main street in Hythe covered with mud,
drenched with rain, their clothing and accoutrements tarnished, their
black facings in good keeping with their dingy costume, they certainly
looked more like a band of demons than human beings, and realized, on
this occasion at least, their ancient pet appellation of the 'dirty
half hundred.'
The 50th has undergone several changes of name, both serious and
ludicrous. At the period of which we are writing, it was the West Kent
regiment. When, after its return from the West Indies, in 1827, it
received a new set of colours, at Portsmouth, from the hands of Queen
Adelaide, (then Duchess of Clarence) it became the 'Duke of
Clarence's.' On our present gracious sovereign's accession to the
throne it was made a royal regiment, and obtained the honor of being
styled the 'Queen's Own,' which is its present name. Among military
men, it has been known by various jocose titles; at one time it was
called the 'Mediterranean Greys,' from its having been so long on that
station that the locks of men and officers had assumed a grisly hue.
It was, at another period, named the 'Blind Half Hundred,' from being
so much afflicted with the ophthalmia in Egypt. The 'Old Black Cuffs,'
and the 'Dirty Half Hundred,' from the dingy colour of the facings,
are still favourite appellations.--But let us resume our march.
We arrived at Portsmouth on the 26th of November, 1807, having had a
toilsome march of ten days; the roads were bad, and the weather was
unusually cold and wet; so that we did not make a very respectable or
beautiful figure, upon our entrance into that garrison, any more than
we did at our exhibition in Hythe. The object of our coming to
Portsmouth, was to form a portion of an expedition which was to
assemble at this place of rendezvous, preparatory to its embarkation
for a destined quarter, to what part of the world it was to direct its
course was, however, as yet unknown to the troops who were to be
engaged in it.
The force to be employed on this secret enterprise consisted of the
following regiments, viz.:--
The 29th regiment, Lieut.-Col. White.
The 32nd regiment, Lieut.-Col. S. V. Hinde.
The 50th regiment, Lieut.-Col. G. T. Walker.
The 82nd regiment, Lieut.-Col. Sir G. Smith.
The Armament was to be under the orders of Major General Sir Brent
Spencer, an officer of well-tried experience, and merit, who had
signalized himself on many occasions, and particularly when leading
forward the old 40th on the sands of Egypt. With such a gallant chief
at our head, followed by such troops, we could not fail to be inspired
with confidence, that to whatever quarter the expedition might be
bound, success would inevitably attend upon our arms.
Previous to our going on board, a limited number of women were allowed
to accompany the regiment, and lots were cast in order to decide this
very delicate affair.--It was most affecting to witness the distress
of those whose fate it was to remain behind, and the despair that was
pictured on the countenances of the unhappy creatures was truly
pitiable.--Many of them young, helpless, and unprotected, were forced
to wander back to their own country, pennyless, and broken-hearted,
and to all intents and purposes left in a widowed state, for few of
them were fated ever to behold their husbands again.
The moment of separation was a painful one, and was calculated not
only to touch the hearts of the most indifferent observer, but to
affect most deeply those who, while they felt for the mourners, had no
power to mitigate their sorrows.
The embarkation took place on the 17th of December. The troops were
assembled on that spot, well known by the name of Portsmouth point, a
place which, albeit it possesses but a scanty portion of the
picturesque, even now furnished with a goodly display of animated
nature, and covered with groups of motley garb and colour, consisting
of all the rank, beauty and fashion of that very polite and elegant
quarter of the town, drawn hither from their saloons, to witness the
departure of the soldiers.
CHAPTER II.
The whole of the troops being on board, the fleet got under way, from
Spithead, with a fine breeze from the E.N.E. and stood down channel
for the westward.
The transports fitted up for our reception, were small vessels of such
old and crazy materials, that in this wintry season, we did not expect
they would long remain sea-worthy. However as we were now commencing
the uphill work of a soldier's life, our minds were fully made up to
rough it in every sense of the word; and, although appearances were
not flattering, our feelings were in unison with the motto on our
breast-plate, (quo fata vócant) and we were buoyed up with the hopes
of a prosperous issue to our undertaking.
Captain Bentley's company, (to which I belonged) was stowed in the
brig Alexander; she was an old tub, battered and knocked about by many
a gale, and in her look and trim was by no means inviting.
The skipper, Captain Young, a tall, hard-featured seaman, with a
countenance well bronzed by exposure to the N.W. wind, was positive
and irritable to an extreme degree, and if a landsman presumed to
offer any remark, as to the affairs of his beautiful ship, Old
_Young_, was quite indignant.
We were fortunate in getting Bentley for a shipmate, as he was a kind
good tempered man, and a lively companion.
The paymaster, John Montgomery, with his wife and family, were also
of our party; so that on the whole, we in the Alexander were as well
off with respect to society, as any of our neighbours. Montgomery was
a plain, good-natured Irishman, fond of social life, and being a man
of experience, having spent most of his days in the regiment, he was
an acquisition, which ultimately proved valuable to us. His eldest
daughter, an animated sensible girl, contributed with two younger
sisters to our happiness; and, making due allowance for the state of
things around, we had as large a share of enjoyment, (if such a word
can be used with reference to being in a ship), as under the
circumstances could reasonably be expected.
The fleet was soon clear of the channel, bearing on a S.W. course,
under a heavy press of canvass, before a fair wind.--The appearance of
the clouds and atmosphere was unfavourable, and the huge unwieldy
porpoises, rolling about their shapeless forms, together with the
screaming of mother Cary's chickens, were to the experienced mariners
certain indications of a coming storm. Their evil prognostics were
soon realized; for, on approaching the Bay of Biscay, we were driven
and tossed about, by one of the most violent tempests that had occurred
for many years.--It began on Christmas day. Resolving to enjoy, though
in a humble way, the good cheer of the festive season, we had
previously provided for the occasion a fat goose, and other savoury
things; but, alas, our promised joys proved deceptive; they all
vanished, and were replaced by sorrow and disappointment, for the
relentless gale denied all possibility of comfort! Poor blacky, in
his caboose, was rendered inconsolable, he being unable to dress the
aforesaid goose, as the spray, beating in, had quenched the last spark
of his culinary fire. The ship reeled and pitched with such tremendous
force, that it was not without some trouble we could discuss the
merits of a cold bone of junk with hard biscuit, while we lay
sprawling and floundering on the wretched cabin floor. The dead-lights
having been previously fixed to the stern windows, there remained but
the flickering and moody glare of a yellow dirty looking luminary,
y'clept a lamp, which, as it swung from the sky-light grating,
afforded a glimmering just sufficient to make darkness visible, and
disclose to our visual organs a scene emphatically dismal.
Such was the commencement of our calamitous voyage, and in this way
did we get on, from bad to worse, each day more woeful than the
preceding; until at length, after beating about this Bay of Misery,
against a strong head sea, and with a hurricane in our teeth, it was
thought advisable to fight no longer with the elements; the signal was
therefore made from the Commodore, to tack about, and make sail for
England.--Obeying this welcome signal with alacrity, we found
ourselves going homewards before the wind, at the rate of from ten to
twelve knots an hour, after having been exposed to its dreadful
violence for the space of ten days, in the most terrific sea that any
unfortunate bark had ever ploughed.
At this time, as we looked across the foaming waste, the view was wild
and dreary; amidst the atmosphere of darkness, clouds and mist, the
scattered vessels might be occasionally discerned, as the fog
dispersed, tossed about at the merciless fury of the waves; some
dismantled, others on their beam ends. The wrecks of those that
unhappily had foundered were floating here and there, while the loud
and fearful moaning of the tempest increased the horrors of the scene.
After five days of rapid sailing, the Alexander, with a few more
ships, arrived at Plymouth. The remainder of the convoy took refuge in
various harbours, along the coast, and by the 5th of January they were
all safe at anchor, in the several ports which with so much difficulty
they made. On the 15th we sailed for Falmouth, when permission was
granted for the men to land in detachments, in order that they might
stretch their limbs after their long confinement[3].
[3] Before our departure from Falmouth our society was
unfortunately deprived of Captain Bentley, who remained to
effect an exchange. He was, for a considerable time, staff
Captain at Chatham, and was promoted to the rank of Major,
when he was appointed to the 16th foot, stationed at Ceylon.
He died soon after this, justly lamented by all his friends
and comrades.
Bentley was succeeded, in the Alexander, by Captain Richard
Stowe, a weather-beaten veteran, upon whose visage time, and
hard service, had imprinted numerous deep and indelible
marks.
Stowe exchanged into a West India regiment, before we landed
in Portugal, and was taken off by fever in one of the
Leeward Islands.
The weather having at length become settled, the fleet again got under
way, and, with a fine steady breeze from the East, soon cleared the
Lizard. Steering towards our friend old Biscay, of blustrous memory,
we speedily lost sight of the shores of Britain; but in a state of
circumstances far more auspicious than those under which we first
commenced our unfortunate career.
After a prosperous and very delightful voyage of seventeen days,
during which we had favourable and pleasant weather, we came to anchor
in the Bay of Gibraltar, when the troops were disembarked, and
occupied the barracks at Europa point, on the southern extremity of
the fortress.
The transport containing the flank companies and head quarters, under
Colonel Walker, had missed the convoy in the heavy gales of January,
and bore away to the Southward. After being driven about the
Mediterranean for some weeks, it was compelled to put into the harbour
of Messina, where it continued till intelligence was received of our
arrival at the rock. In a little time it joined us, and the regiment
was again re-assembled, and prepared for any service.
During our brief sojourn in this extraordinary place, which is too
well known to need any description here, we found many things to
interest us after the monotony of a voyage. The great number of
strange and curious looking personages, who figured in the streets,
with their varied, many-coloured, and grotesque costumes, made the
town appear as if there was a carnival or masquerade going forward,
and produced a very gay and ludicrous effect. There is, however, a
heavy drawback to the mirth which this motley population is calculated
to excite. The close suffocating atmosphere, the filthy state of the
houses, and other local circumstances, promote the reception of those
unwelcome visitors, plague, cholera, and yellow fever; which are still
further encouraged, if not engendered, by the uncleanly habits, and
abominable customs of the Turks, Jews, and other outlandish residents
of the town.
The Library, containing a numerous and splendid collection of books in
every language, forms a delightful source of amusement, as well as
profitable employment, to the officers, civil and military, who may
be stationed in the garrison.--Over the library is a magnificent
ball-room in which at all times there is a pretty good display of the
young and fair[4] rock-scorpions, together with passing visitors, and
warlike heroes, who have assembled to dispel that ennui which might
otherwise pervade their leisure hours.
[4] A term applied to those who are born on the _Rock_.
The weather was excessively hot, the oppressive closeness of the air,
being increased by the reflection, from the rock, of a burning sun.
Were this not tempered by the occasional breeze, wafted from the
Mediterranean, the climate would be insufferable: tormented by flies,
mosquitos, and other insects, we had but little rest day or night, and
but for the constant occupation of the mind, combined with the
excitement caused by the variety and novelty of all about us, our
situation would have been any thing but agreeable in such a place,
which it would almost require the nature of a salamander to endure; a
nature not to be obtained except by the seasoning of a very long
residence.
Mounting guard one day at the New mole head, I was a witness of an
extraordinary interview which chanced to occur. Lieut. Frederick Baron
Meard, an old subaltern of the 50th, was upon the same duty, and,
being the senior, he turned out the guard to receive the visiting
field officer, then Major Wood, of the 32nd regiment; to his great
surprise the Major recognized Meard as the same individual who, some
years before, when in the West Indies, was the field officer of the
day, to whom the main guard presented arms, when he, (Major Wood),
commanded it, being at that period a Lieutenant in the 32nd.
To what corps Meard then belonged, I do not recollect, but his having
sold out and again commenced his military career, will account for
what may seem one of those strange vicissitudes to which men of the
military profession are liable.--Meard exchanged, while we lay at
Gibraltar, into a regiment in the West Indies, and soon after fell a
victim to the effects of that baneful climate. Major Cholmondly
Overend also returned from the Regiment at this place, having sold his
commission, and returned to England. Overend was a Yorkshireman,
advanced in years, and decidedly of the old school. Erect in stature,
and well made, with a good military expression, he retained still
enough to show that in his younger days, he must have been a handsome
man. Whether he is now in the land of the living I am unable to say.
The 50th, previous to the arrival of Colonel Walker, was under the
command of Major Charles Hill; of whom, as he was our leader
throughout a good part of the Peninsular War, I shall hereafter have
something more to relate.
On the 13th of May, 1808, the Expedition, under the orders of
Lieutenant General Sir Brent Spencer, sailed from the Bay of
Gibraltar, and on the following day arrived off Cadiz, where the fleet
remained till the 13th of June, from which period to the 27th of the
same month, it was cruizing about between Cape St. Vincent, Ayamonte
and Trafalgar point; this being the second time of its visiting the
coast in that quarter. Being appointed to do duty in Captain
Armstrong's Company, I embarked with that officer, together with
Ensign John Atkinson, and Quarter-Master Benjamin Baxter, on board of
a fine well-built transport, called the Rosina. Our voyage was passed
in a dull and listless manner, solely occupied as we were, for above
six weeks, in sailing along the coasts of Algarve and Andalusia, and
remaining in total ignorance of our final destination.--We were
becalmed for days under a broiling sun, occasionally running short of
water, and fresh provisions; and our state of uncertainty, as well as
hope deferred, was enough to exhaust the patience of the most enduring
mortals. Whenever the wind was favourable, or that we stood in close
to the land, the natives approached the ship, with boats well laden
with various articles, in the welcome shape of fruit, vegetables, or
fish, which they gladly disposed of at a moderate rate. These might
well be called luxuries, and formed an excellent accompaniment to our
salt junk, upon which we had been stall-fed so abundantly that, for
some time past, we had seldom any thing else for either breakfast,
dinner, or supper. Had it not been for Captain Armstrong, I know not
how we should have contrived to support a mode of existence, or rather
of vegetation, which was so thoroughly wearisome. Fortunately he was
an amusing companion, full of drollery and comic humour, and had,
moreover, a fund of good songs, so that he kept us all alive.
Hostilities between England and Spain having ceased, in consequence of
the invasion of the latter country by the French, preparations were
made, in the most vigorous manner, to co-operate with the Spanish and
Portuguese forces; and the British troops were accordingly held in
readiness to disembark on any part of the Peninsula to which they
might be ordered. General Spencer's Expedition, which was now destined
for immediate active service, composed a portion of that army which
first obtained a footing on the shores of Portugal, and which,
eventually, under the illustrious Wellington, performed such glorious
achievements in the field, driving the French Eagles before them, and
bearing the victorious colours of Britain from Lisbon to Toulouse.
Soon after we arrived off the road of Cadiz, the French fleet, lying
at anchor under the town, was summoned to surrender to the Spanish
flag. This request not being complied with, the natural result was a
general attack, made by the artillery on their shipping. The enemy was
resolved to maintain his quarters as long as he could fire a shot, and
therefore returned the salute, with all the heavy metal he could bring
to bear against the works, sending in a broadside, with such
tremendous effect as to rattle the tiled roofs about their ears and
otherwise deface the beauty of their buildings.
Lying so far in the offing, we could see nothing but a thick cloud of
smoke, rising above the calm surface of the bay;[5] the exhibition
going forward behind this curtain, was completely hidden from our
view. The cannonade, however, was audible enough, and its music sadly
tantalized our seamen in the fleet, who burned to lend a hand in an
affair which was so much to their taste. They had, nevertheless, quite
sufficient to employ their time, having to keep a pretty sharp look
out, in order to prevent the smallest craft of the adverse squadron
from slipping through their fingers.
[5] While we lay off the bay, the governor, Solano, being
suspected of adherence to the enemy, was barbarously
murdered.
Throughout the whole of the day, a heavy fire was kept up against the
French vessels by the garrison, whose long continued volleys echoed
from the harbour. Compelled, at length, to strike their colours, the
French surrendered to the Dons, who, sheltered by their solid masonry,
had endured but trifling loss, and were entitled to no particular
praise for any bravery they might have manifested behind their
bulwarks.
On the 4th of July we got under way, and, sailing well up the harbour,
came to anchor a short distance from the Mole head, the ships of war
being moored across the entrance. The men were not permitted to land;
but the Officers had leave to pass a few hours on shore every day, and
within that limited space we were busy enough making a tour of
inspection, prying into every street, lane, and alley, not in search
of the picturesque, but of any thing else, that might lie in our way,
deserving notice from inquisitive travellers.
Cadiz is delightfully situated upon an islet, separated from the main
land by a narrow strait. It appeared a paradise to us, after the long
imprisonment we had suffered, from the time we left Gibraltar. The
citizens were highly gratified on seeing the English Officers, and
used every means in their power to evince their friendship and good
will, inviting us to their houses and entertaining us with liberality
and kindness. In the course of a few days the transports containing
the 50th were anchored near Port St. Mary's, a considerable town on
the opposite shore. Here the regiment was landed, and, after remaining
for one week, was again embarked. The fleet sailed on the 22nd, and we
steered once more towards Cape St. Vincent. Portugal was our
destination.
Before we left St. Mary's, I was removed to Captain Coote's company,
with which I went on board the Britannia, Captain Clarke. The other
officers of the cabin were Major Hill, Lieut. Birchall, Ensign
Atkinson, and Assistant Surgeon Coulson, who formed a pleasant,
convivial party, among whom good fellowship and social harmony
prevailed.
CHAPTER III.
Upon our arrival off Mondego Bay, in Portugal, we received orders to
disembark at the little village of Figueras, at the mouth of the
Mondego river, across which there was a dangerous surf and ground
swell. The passing of this obstacle we found to be a most hazardous
and difficult service. As soon as the Portuguese boats, crowded with
our soldiers, reached the foaming and rapid surge, a desperate pull
was made by all the rowers; when, dashing over its surface, we were
launched upon the strand in a most unceremonious manner, being
pitched, or rather tumbled out, more like a cargo of fish than a boat
load of gentlemen warriors. Bundled out upon the sandy beach, we lay
floundering, and drenched by the waves, like so many half drowned
wretches, who had lately escaped from Neptune's watery domains; and
were almost doubtful of our existence, as we scrambled high, though
not dry, upon the shore.--After this delightful immersion, and the
cold reception we had experienced, on our first appearance upon
the Lusitanian stage, we moved forward, with habiliments of war
effectually saturated by the briny element, and soon joined our
_companions of the bath_, already on the road. Most of us had been
provided with small knapsacks, holding our _kit_, together with the
haversack, and canteen, slung across the shoulder; of which the two
former, (including their contents,) were rendered totally unfit for
service, nothing being left for consolation but the brandy, or rum;
cordials which were well calculated, and by no means unnecessary, to
elevate our drooping spirits.
As soon as we recovered from the effects of our chilling ablutions, we
proceeded to the ground of encampment, and, although we were in a
sorry condition with regard to the outward man, the inward was
sustained by a hearty determination to bear up under privations alike
inevitable to all. The weather was beautifully fine; the roads, which
were in general good, led through a picturesque and richly cultivated
country. At the termination of each day's march, the troops were
halted in the neighbourhood of wood and water. The alignment being
taken up, and the arms piled in column, fires were immediately put in
requisition for cooking, and in a moment the clash and clang of
bill-hooks and pioneers' entrenching tools resounded on every side;
while the deep woods rang again with the clamour of ten thousand
tongues, and the harsh discordant sound of bugles, drums, and other
noisy accompaniments, producing, on the whole, a scene not unworthy of
Hogarth himself, who might have been aroused from the dead, to execute
the task of depicting it, had he been entombed within the precincts of
our turbulent camp.
Before daylight the army was up, and standing to their arms, formed in
open column, the reveille at the same time was sounded from right to
left, and echoed through the closely planted hills, giving to our
enemies in the front loud intimation of our near approach, and proving
that his newly arrived visitors were at all events on the alert, and
came early into the field.
As we moved onward, towards Lisbon, a skirmish took place at Obidos,
in which fell Lieutenant Bunbury, of the 95th Rifle corps; the first
British officer who was slain in the Peninsula. This was the prelude
to a more important action. Headed by General Laborde, the French took
post on the heights of Roriça, where they resisted with wonderful
obstinacy the combined attack of our troops. Nothing could surpass the
gallantry displayed by both parties, during the assault of this strong
position; and nothing but the courage of British soldiers could have
forced the enemy to withdraw. On our part, the noble conduct of the
old 9th and 29th regiments was conspicuous, those corps having, at the
point of the bayonet, carried the whole range of hills.
It was a lovely morning, the sun rose with a splendour never witnessed
in our cold latitudes, and every object seemed to smile upon our
operations, at the commencement of that struggle upon which depended
the slavery or freedom of a great nation.
The 50th, 45th, and 91st were brigaded together at this time, under
General I. Catlin Crawford[6], and these were drawn up on the road
leading to Roleia. From the arrangements made, we fully expected to
have had the post of honor, or rather the honor of driving the
adversary from his stronghold, and waited anxiously for the order to
advance; but presently, while we stood gazing about us, up comes the
29th regiment, which by their bold and decided pace gave evidence
plain enough that they were selected for the service, and, cheering
them with our wishes for their success, we could not avoid admiring
the style in which they moved along.
[6] General Catlin Crawford was a tall, fine-looking man,
with a fair complexion and sandy hair. He subsequently died
of fever in Portugal.
General Robert Crawford, his relation, a gallant officer,
was killed at Ciudad Rodrigo.
The arrangements made by the French General Laborde for the defence of
his position were admirably planned, and his troops behaved with great
valour, contesting every inch of ground. Concealed within the close
brushwood, on each side of the narrow defile, they took steady and
deliberate aim, and their fire was attended with murderous effects.
The 29th, however, commanded by the gallant Colonel Lake[7], pressed
onward, to the gorge of the pass. While they were struggling up the
rugged and precipitous ascent they were exposed to a shower of balls,
and, in a few minutes, the grenadier company was nearly annihilated,
the chivalrous Lake falling mortally wounded at their head, while in
the act of bravely encouraging his men.
[7] Lieutenant Colonel the Honorable George Augustus
Frederick Lake was the son of General Lord Lake, and rose to
high military rank at an early age. He was a man of noble
aspect and commanding appearance. Mounted on a milk-white
charger, he led his followers on with heroic bearing.
The regiment still pushed forward, although with the loss of many
other officers, and, forming on the summit of the eminence, was
supported by the 9th; these corps, followed by others in reserve,
gained possession of the heights. Beaten at all points, the enemy
moved off in good order; directing his march along the sea coast by
the roads to Vimeiro and Torres Vedras.
The 9th suffered considerably in this affair, and their commander,
Colonel Cameron, was killed at the first onset.
The allies marched rapidly in the footsteps of the flying enemy,
keeping him well in sight until they reached the hills surrounding the
village of Vimeiro, where they were formed, in order to protect the
debarkation of a reinforcement of men from England; which was then off
the coast. These troops landed at the small town of Maceira, and were
just in time for the ensuing combat, having opportunely joined before
our principal adversary thought proper to shew his face.
Junot, who was general in chief, held the British in much contempt,
and endeavoured to impress upon the minds of his followers, that their
antagonists were a set of raw campaigners, wholly devoid of military
skill. From the testimony of some deserters, who came into our lines,
we learned, that the Marshal intended, before many days were over, to
give us a dusting, and to brush the pipeclay out of our jackets. This
cavalier determination of the Marshal afforded no small amusement to
our soldiers, who promised themselves some good sport, whenever the
gasconading Frenchman might be pleased to make true his words: and,
not to be behindhand with him in kindness, they resolved gratefully to
return the compliment, by trimming the whiskers of his gallant
veterans, and powdering their mustachios, in so artist-like a manner,
that the aid of a friseur should no longer be required.
In this posture things remained until the 21st of August, when both
parties assembled to put in their claim to a portion of the honor and
glory which were to be won on that day. By which side the largest
share of those imperishable commodities was obtained, History has
already recorded.
At a very early hour, on the morning of the day already mentioned,
some random shots were heard in front of our piquets, which gave us
intimation that the French were on the move, and we doubted not that
they were about to assist our toilet in the way of brushing; in plain
English, it was clear enough that they had it in contemplation to try
our metal, and ascertain whether it was of a base kind or not. Under
these circumstances it was quite natural that we should anticipate
their wishes; and measures were accordingly taken to give them a warm
reception.
Very few of us were ever in action before, and as for the smell of
gunpowder, all our young hands were perfect griffins in that way. It
being our initiatory battle, our minds were under no small degree of
excitement. The idea of engaging in deadly strife with the soldiers of
Austerlitz and Jena inspired the ambitious hero, escaped from the
apron-string, with feelings of emulation well calculated to keep alive
the flame of military ardour; and each, screwing his courage to the
sticking place, resolved that he would be famed _for deeds of arms_,
and that his name should go down to posterity under an accumulated
weight of laurels.
The 43rd, (2nd battalion,) 50th, and 95th Rifle Corps were formed into
a light brigade, under the command of General (now Sir Henry) Fane,
and certainly I never beheld so fine a body of men; the 43rd, in
particular, were a most shewy set of fellows, a healthy collection of
John Bulls, hot from their own country, and equally hot for a slap at
the Frenchmen. The 95th, (now the Rifle Brigade,) was commanded by
Major Robert Travers[8], an officer whose bravery, on all occasions,
made him worthy of a place in that crack regiment. We were posted on
an eminence, to the right of the village; the 50th, being the junior
corps, was stationed in the centre, and consequently on the highest
part of the hill. From hence, as the day was fine, and the atmosphere
quite clear, we had a distinct view of all that was going forward in
the front, also a tolerably good prospect in every other direction.
[8] Major Robert Travers was promoted to be Lieutenant
Colonel of the 10th Foot, and subsequently became Major
General by brevet. He settled at his native place, Cork,
where he died, in consequence of a fall from his horse, in
1835. He left a widow and very numerous family. One of his
daughters, previously not unknown as a writer, has very
recently distinguished herself by the "The MASCARENHAS;
a Legend of the Portuguese in India;" an animated Romance,
which displays great knowledge of character and power of
description.
The country was overspread with vineyards, and, the vintage season
being at hand, nothing could be more beautiful than the luxuriant
foliage. Intermingled with the vines were chestnut and olive trees,
while in the parts more distant, were rich and closely planted woods,
forming a back-ground in good keeping with the whole of the splendid
landscape.
The plot began to thicken about 8 o'clock, when a brisk firing of
musketry, among the troops in advance, announced that it was high time
to reinforce the piquets, which were commanded by Captain Thomas
Snowe, of the 60th regiment. They were immediately strengthened by the
4th battalion company of that regiment, under Captain Coote. A sharp
discharge of small arms was kept up by a cloud of French riflemen,
who, gathering round under cover of the vines and cornfields, gave
their fire with a degree of activity that certainly did them credit.
Our men were at this time exposed in the open field, and scarcely knew
from what direction the enemy were coming; but though they were nearly
all young soldiers, unaccustomed to gunpowder, they behaved with a
degree of steadiness worthy of their corps. Snowe in the meanwhile,
with his party, which had extended to the right, was ordered to close
on either flank, to support the centre, when the principal attack was
made, and where the enemy, still pressing in, galled us with a
peppering that was rapidly thinning the ranks, and made our situation
by no means either cool or comfortable. With admirable presence of
mind, Coote directed his men to take advantage of every means of cover
the place afforded; and, encouraging them by his own example, they
kept their ground under a galling and destructive fire, from an enemy
whom they were unable to answer or even to see. At this trying moment,
while in the act of cheering his little band, and urging them to
behave with firmness and courage, a musket ball struck him in the
heart, and reeling back a few paces, he fell, and instantly expired.
His fall did not, however, dispirit his followers, on the contrary it
excited an indignant feeling, which prompted them to redouble their
exertions in order to avenge his death.
Arthur Gethin Coote was a native of the south of Ireland, and had
served in the 50th regiment for some years.--He was a military looking
man, strong, and well built, having dark features, and sharp
penetrating eyes.--He was somewhat stately in deportment, but withal a
daring soldier, steady and collected in the hour of danger.
The command devolving on Lieutenant Mark Rudkin, (Captain Snowe being
detached to some woods on the right,) he gave orders to retire. The
piquets extending right and left immediately fell back, under a shower
of bullets, from the enemy's light troops, who continued forcing on in
spite of all opposition. We gave them in return the full benefit of
our small shot, as we occasionally drew up, covered by the vine hedges
and olive trees, that lay within our path; and in this manner,
alternately firing and retreating, so as to keep the foe aloof, we
gained our situation in the line.
Before twelve o'clock, the contending forces were hard at work. Dark
and accumulating masses of the enemy were advancing on every side;
for, resolving that this should be a decisive combat, and that he
would drive us back by the road on which we came, and perhaps into the
sea, Junot brought into the field every man that he could muster. Such
being his determination, it is no wonder that he pushed his warriors
into our very teeth. They, too, if we might judge from the coolness
with which they travelled up to the muzzles of our guns, seemed to
think that they had nothing whatever to do, but to cut us into
mince-meat, and devour us all by way of an early dinner. To the left
of Vimeiro was a chain of lofty hills, extending for a considerable
way to the eastward. Upon these the main body of the British force was
arrayed, and here the contest was fought with desperation. The enemy,
at last, after many a hard struggle to gain the position, was
completely routed, leaving a vast number of his killed and wounded on
the sides of the precipice, as well as in the hollows and ravines at
its base.
The 71st Highland Light Infantry was greatly distinguished on those
heights, and, with the other corps of Sir Ronald Ferguson's Brigade,
charged the assailants repeatedly from the ground. They were then
commanded by that fine officer, the late Sir Dennis Pack, and fully
maintained the high station which they had always held in the military
records of their country.
Among their wounded was poor George Clarke, their piper, who was
struck by a musket ball, while cheering up his comrades in the charge.
Unable to proceed, the intrepid Clarke still continued to play in
animated strains the favourite national music, and with a noble spirit
remained upon the spot, under a heavy fire, until, having fully
accomplished the object of their mission, his regiment came back
victorious to the station on the hill.[9]
[9] Clarke received a handsome pension, and was justly
rewarded, by the Highland Society, with an appropriate
silver medal.
The 50th regiment, commanded by Colonel George Townsend Walker, stood
as firm as a rock, while a strong division under General Laborde
continued to advance, at a rapid step, from the deep woods in our
front, covered by a legion of tirailleurs, who quickened their pace as
they neared our line. Walker now ordered his men to prepare for close
attack, and he watched with eagle eye the favorable moment for
pouncing on the enemy.
When the latter, in a compact mass, arrived sufficiently up the hill,
now bristled with bayonets, the black cuffs poured in a well directed
volley upon the dense array. Then, cheering loudly, and led on by its
gallant chief, the whole regiment rushed forward to the charge,
penetrated the formidable columns, and carried all before it. The
confusion into which the panic-struck Frenchmen were thrown it would
be difficult to express. No longer able to withstand the British
steel, Laborde and his invincibles made a headlong retreat, and never
looked behind them till they reached the forest and vineyards in the
rear.
As far as the eye could reach over the well planted valley, and across
the open country lying beyond the forest, the fugitives were running
in wild disorder, their white sheep-skin knapsacks discernible among
woods far distant. There were, however, many resolute fellows, who, in
retiring, took cover behind the hedgerows, saluting us with parting
volleys, which did considerable execution amongst our advancing
troops. At length, even this remnant of the vanquished foe, dispersed
and broken in piece-meal, betook themselves to flight in every quarter
of the field. The ground was thickly strewed with muskets, side arms,
bayonets, accoutrements, and well-filled knapsacks, all of which had
been hastily flung away as dangerous incumbrances. Several of the
packs contained various articles of plunder, including plate in many
shapes and forms, which they had robbed from the unfortunate
Portuguese. Books of songs, romances, and other commodities of a
similar kind, were scattered about in all directions; and many a
tender billet-doux lay open to the profane gaze and the laughing
comments of the vulgar multitude. It was amusing, after all was over,
to see the strange medley of curiosities, that had, doubtless with
much pains, been collected by those who lately owned them; and it was
with no very nice feelings that a general inspection of the rarities
took place, as soon as the defeated army had left the field.
While we were pursuing our opponents, the 20th Light Dragoons, led on
by Colonel Taylor, galloped furiously past us, in order to put a
finishing stroke to the business, by completing any thing that the
infantry might have left undone. The horsemen, unsupported, charging
the enemy with impetuosity, and rashly going too far, were involved in
a difficulty of which, in their eagerness to overtake the stragglers,
they had never thought; for, getting entangled among the trees and
vineyards, they could do but little service, and suffered a loss of
nearly half their number: their brave commander being also one of
those who fell in that desperate onset.
The 43rd regiment was very much cut up, being, while employed in
skirmishing, considerably exposed. I noticed at least a subdivision of
their men lying killed in a deep gulley or trench, as they fell over
each other, from a raking discharge of round or grape shot.
The 50th lost a great proportion of rank and file, which chiefly arose
from the fire of the French light troops, while covering their column,
and during their retreat. Major Charles Hill was wounded, and Captain
A. G. Coote and Lieutenant I. N. Wilson were among the slain.
Upon the bleak surface of the hill, from which the regiment had
charged Laborde, we bivouacked that night, and reposed our weary
limbs. Although the air was cold, and our situation comfortless, yet,
from extreme fatigue, we rested perhaps more soundly than the pampered
alderman on his downy couch. A windmill on the summit afforded
excellent quarters for the Colonel and his personal staff, while the
other officers, less fortunate, crouched together, shivering outside
its base.
The 50th took a standard pole and box, which were borne by a serjeant
between the colours, as a trophy, during the succeeding campaigns. The
French, instead of colours, display a small brass eagle, screwed to a
square box of the same metal, both of which are attached to a pole or
staff. This eagle is seldom exhibited in the heat of action, the staff
being carried as a rallying point, in the same way, and for the same
object as our banners.
The army remained on its ground during the 22nd, no measures being
taken to follow up the victory that was gained. This inaction arose
from Sir Harry Burrard having arrived on the field before the
termination of the battle, _assumed_ the command, and given orders
that no further hostile movement should take place.
An armistice was now concluded, and the French troops withdrew into
Lisbon, where they lay encamped in one of the principal squares. Here
they remained, by virtue of the convention of Cintra, until their
final embarkation for France, accompanied by their renowned chieftain
the celebrated Duke of Abrantes, and bearing away plunder enough to
load a ship, and their arms to meet us at some future day, on some
other battle-field.[10]
[10] It is a singular fact, that one of those regiments of
Junot's army, (the 32nd Light Infantry), was engaged with
the 50th at the battle of Corunna, having lost no time in
returning to their old trade of basket making.
CHAPTER IV.
On the 23rd of August we commenced our march to Lisbon. As we passed
through the towns and villages that lay in our course, the enthusiasm
and delight evinced by the Portuguese, on seeing the English army, was
unbounded. Joyful congratulations, and the exulting language of
welcome, greeted us as we triumphantly moved along; and, wherever we
appeared, the most cordial reception awaited us. In the soldiers of
Britain they beheld friends and allies, who had come to deliver their
country from the bondage of Napoleon, as well as of French subordinate
tyranny and oppression. On this account, the sentiments they
entertained towards us, were those of heartfelt gratitude. Those
feelings were expressed with vehemence and fervour, not merely by a
class or a faction, but by all ranks and ages among the people, who
saluted us with loud and deafening huzzas, and with cries of "viva los
Ingleses--viva, viva,--viva los officiales! viva muytos annos!" while,
as we marched beneath their crowded windows, a shower of garlands,
flowers, olive branches, laurels, and other harmless missiles, fell
profusely upon us. Entering Lisbon from the North, the 29th, 40th,
50th, and 79th regiments halted upon an elevated space of ground,
called the Campo St. Anna, where we lay undisturbed for some days. The
inhabitants around entertained the officers in a most liberal manner,
their anxious care being to anticipate all our wants and wishes. In
the full enjoyment of the variety and amusement of the Capital our
time passed rapidly away. Temptations and enticements were not wanting
to allure us from the encampment, and pleasure in many shapes appeared
on every side. The Opera was well attended by those who ventured at a
late hour through the long narrow streets and passages; but the
pedestrian found this by no means an agreeable excursion, for it is
the custom here to throw out from the windows sundry fluids, not of
the most savoury nature, and while the generous inmate shrieks out,
"take care below!" he, at the same instant, by way of a salute, pours
the contents of his pail or bucket on the pate of the luckless
passenger.
The French soldiers, who occupied the Praça de Rocio, frequently
insulted the British officers who were returning from the theatre.
Having to pass their camp one night, in company with a friend, both of
us were challenged by the sentries, who, not waiting our reply,
despatched a bullet to detain us. This caused us to quicken our pace
without delay, lest they should think proper to send a second
messenger of the same kind, which might put an effectual stop to our
further progress. With their officers, however, we were on good terms;
and, while holding conversation with them, at the coffee-houses, where
we met, on the subject of our late proceedings, we found them
generally pleasant, intelligent men. As long as the French remained,
our duties were severe; we being, on their account, kept pretty much
on the alert. I must confess, however, that mounting guard upon the
convent of San Vincento was not the most harassing of those duties;
for the priests, and other holy characters lodged therein, were a
jolly, convivial set of fellows, and regaled us handsomely upon the
best of dainties, plying their guests with oceans of capital wine,
which the well-fed clerigos extracted from the nethermost chambers of
their venerable abode.
The intruders, bag and baggage, having finally embarked upon the
Tagus, a considerable portion of the garrison of Lisbon was directed
to proceed to Monte Santo, a favourable situation on the road to
Cintra, and about four miles from the city. We reached that place on
the 28th of September, and remained encamped there for a month. At
this period, Colonel Walker being promoted, the command of our
regiment devolved on Major Charles Napier, who had recently arrived
from the 2nd battalion in order to relieve Major Hill, wounded at
Vimeiro. The Honorable Major Stanhope and Ensign David Leslie also
joined about the same time.
Orders having been issued for us to march through Portugal, for the
purpose of joining General Sir John Moore, at Salamanca, the 50th
regiment set out from Monte Santo on the 28th of October, at 6 o'clock
in the morning. The weather was dark, with heavy rain, which fell on
us most unmercifully until we got to Lisbon. We travelled by the main
road to Abrantes, along the right bank of the Tagus, and, halting at
Sacavem, arrived on the following day at Villa Franca. The
inhabitants, on our route, were most hospitable; receiving us with a
heartiness of welcome to which we had been unaccustomed in other
lands. On the 30th we got into Azambuja: the road was passable enough,
though in some parts rough and hilly, winding along the course of the
river, which rolled between deep and thickly wooded banks. Continuing,
on the 31st, through the same description of country, we entered
Santarem, after a pleasant though somewhat sultry march.
The city of Santarem consists of several narrow, dark, and ill-paved
streets, the houses paltry looking, and badly built, having heavy
sombre windows, grated with massive iron bars, like those of their
prisons. Balconies, with painted railings thrown across, relieve in
some degree this melancholy aspect, but the dingy hues, added to the
meanness of the streets, give the place an air of poverty and
wretchedness. On our reaching the house where we were billetted, the
landlord, with his worse or scolding half, ushered us into a
comfortless apartment; where, in a dark corner, stood a miserable bed,
which seemed to have had other occupants than human beings. On our
exclaiming against this uninviting dormitory, the old crone, grumbling
inwardly, conducted us to another chamber, where the domestics, and
different members of the family, were busily engaged in a deadly war
against the numerous population of each others heads. Starting from
their interesting employment, they left us quietly in possession of
the room where lay two mattresses on the unswept floor; on these we
were to repose, not without the prospect of a sharp attack from the
fugitives of that army with which our Portuguese hosts had been so
hotly engaged.
Yet, in spite of circumstances of this kind, the life of a soldier on
service, taking all things together, is the finest in the world. While
he moves on, a roving adventurer, care, pain and trouble are banished
from his mind; and though he is at times on short commons, and often
driven to his wits' end, he but seldom repines. His sufferings give
him a greater relish for the enjoyment of any good things that may be
forthcoming, or any windfall that Fortune may throw in his way. Once
fairly on the road, it is astonishing how rapidly the hours glide
away. The formalities of parade or drill marching are now at an end,
and every one indulges in that mode of perambulation which best suits
him. When the commanding officer is not one of your strict
disciplinarians, the regimental juniors congregate together in groups,
some in front, some in rear; while the men, though keeping their
sections, travel in open ranks, filling the entire space of ground
over which the route extends.
At the head of the column, is to be seen a host of seniors, or old
hands, among whom the laugh and joke prevail; and there many a
long-winded veteran inflicts upon the ears of his patient auditors a
narrative as endless as the road. Ever and anon the second Major falls
back, and, in order to shew his consequence and zeal, especially if a
General with his staff should chance to be passing, he calls out, in a
most important tone, "Gentlemen, get into your places!" "keep on the
flanks!" and other friendly admonitions. As soon as he is convinced,
by the approving looks of the great man with the long feather and
epaulettes, that his vigilance has been duly noticed, he gallops off
to his old station, and the gentlemen betake themselves again to
theirs, till another appearance of the chief, when the stray sheep are
again called back to the flock. By the by, I know of nothing else that
these second Majors have to do, unless it be to act the part of
moveable pivots for dressing up the line, (in which they are generally
very fussy), or in whipping-in the young subalterns, whom they
endeavour to keep in order.
The surgeon, who is often a very hearty fellow, with better things
than boluses and pill boxes in his panniers--together with the
adjutant, and his brethren of the staff, attract around them, in the
rear, a batch of thoroughly pleasant men, who keep up such a volley of
jest and drollery, as frequently to beguile the weariness of the
longest march. Thanks to their amusing powers, we have often found
ourselves at the gates of the town, or on the camp ground, without
being aware that we had travelled any distance.
At intervals of one or two hours, each day, the troops are halted for
a few minutes' rest. Then, all, as if by magic wand, are quickly
squatted, and haversack being called for, the whole of them, like
hungry cormorants at their prey, are soon engaged in one grand scene
of mastication. Some perform a solo on the shank-bone of a well picked
ham; others display their talents on the drumstick of a half-starved
fowl; while the majority gnaw their way through the skinny junk of an
old tough bullock. The vultures and other birds of evil omen are,
meanwhile, hovering in mid air, ready to pounce upon the remnants of
the feast when we are gone.
At the well-known sound of pipes, or bugle, the warriors are again (to
use a parliamentary phrase) on their legs, stretching them out with
renewed vigour. Among the soldiers there is likewise much of drollery
and mirth, nothing makes much difference with them--it matters not
whether trumps turn up or not; whether the chance be a battle, or a
good billet, they are still the same, and trudge along devoid of care.
Give them their allowance, and a little rest, and they require no
more. Day after day I have listened to their jokes and stories, and
been highly entertained by their originality and humour.
In the 2nd division, a pack of hounds accompanied the troops, and,
whenever a favourable opportunity occurred, they were let loose, and
an excellent _view halloo_ was frequently afforded, to the great
delight of the sporting characters in our line.
The Commissary, with his long and short horned regiment, marched at a
convenient distance, attended by their executioners; while the train
of bullock carts, laden with provender and other stores, brings up the
rear. The heavy, dull, monotonous drone, arising from the friction of
the cartwheels, is heard for miles, while the jingling of the bells,
with which the mules are garnished, produces a concert that rings in
the head of the hearer for days and nights together, answering all the
purpose of an itinerant serenade.
But we must break off from this digression; for it is time to resume
our march towards Salamanca.
We quitted Santarem on the third of November, and soon got into a
pleasant road, winding along the banks of the Tagus, through a dark
forest of olive trees, the branches of which overhung our path, and
formed a refreshing shade. Marching over the summit of a barren
height, we reached the Zezere, a small but rapid stream, which here
falls into the Tagus. This river we crossed by a bridge of boats, and
halted at Punhete, on the opposite side, where we occupied some crazy
buildings, which were deserted by the inhabitants. Through a tract by
no means interesting we then held our course, on the 10th, and arrived
at Neisa. The ill-fed, half-clothed, and meagre Portuguese, unused to
the inundation of so many soldiers, were stupified or panic struck,
flying like savage animals on our approach. The weather was harsh, and
the wind, moaning through the open casements, penetrated into every
hole and corner of their dwellings. Little comforted by repose, our
march was still continued, until we entered a range of bleak and
rugged mountains, at the base of which is situated the well-known pass
of Villa Velha, which takes its name from an adjacent village, and
intercepts the communication on the great road into Spain.
Here the Tagus, again opening to our view, is contracted into a very
narrow space, and rushes with violence between the impending rocks; on
either hand the steep and lofty precipices being cleft, as if by an
earthquake, form an almost impassable barrier to the progress of an
army.
A pontoon bridge had been thrown across, but this was destroyed by the
French, whose troops were last upon the route, and we were therefore
forced to hire three small row-boats, from the Portuguese, by which
the regiment was conveyed to the opposite bank, after being long
detained, owing to the rapidity of the current, impeding all our
efforts to get on.
Our route traversing the boundaries of Portugal, was, in many places,
overgrown with brushwood, and crossed at intervals, by rivulets. Huge
stones and roots of trees lay scattered here and there. The wearied
soldiers toiled with difficulty along, under the most tempestuous
weather, the inclemency of which was severely felt in those Alpine
regions, where the cold was so excessive as to require the hardest
bodily exercise to withstand its influence. In order to keep the men
alive, the band and drums were frequently put in requisition, which
had a marvellous effect; and our Commander, Major Napier, occasionally
ordered some well-known national quickstep, when, in a moment, as if
by magic, those who were tired and jaded sprung up, endued as it were
with additional life and vigour, and, giving the knapsack a cast upon
the shoulder, stepped out once more with fresh spirit. The music, as
we approached the towns, had the twofold purpose of pleasing the
inhabitants and cheering on the troops. Even the lame and weakly,
although weighed down by the heavy burthen which they carried, exerted
their remaining strength to make a bold appearance. On the line of
march, for many a tedious league, did the officers use every means to
animate their men, by giving them an example of patient endurance
under every suffering. The Field Officers and Staff alone, were
allowed to ride at that time; the other ranks, although from previous
habits less able than even the privates to bear fatigue, had no
alternative but to trudge it with their companies from day to day.
The young recruits and drummers felt the hardship most, and often upon
the journey has Major Napier given his charger to one of them, or to
any poor fellow who could not well get on, while with a musket, or
sometimes a brace of them, on his shoulder, he walked before the
regiment. Thus, by his considerate kindness for the men, he was
securing to himself that respect and estimation in which they always
held him, as well as actuating them to perform their duty in a manner
worthy of one who, whether in quarters or in the field, never spared
himself whenever an opportunity offered to promote their comfort.
The poverty of the oppressed and ill-used natives, wherever our course
lay, was lamentable; the French, according to their regular system,
carried famine and desolation in their train; paying for nothing, they
drew their supplies by force of arms, and their marauding foragers
overran the surrounding districts, forcing the peasantry, as well as
those who lived in towns, to pay the expenses of their barbarous
invasion. In consequence of the ravages committed on the people, there
was nothing in their markets, or their shops, "a beggarly account of
empty boxes;" and the lean and sallow proprietors were proofs
sufficient of the unhappy state in which their land was placed. They
were so terrified, that it was difficult to prevail on them to sell
even what they could spare.--Upon demanding what we could obtain from
them, the reply at all times was, "no hai nada aqui," or, "we have
nothing here." Seeing us rather incredulous, and on being again
requested, they would persist in the refusal, with a shrug of the
shoulders, and passing the fore finger twice across the nose, crying
out, "nada, nada;" but, when the finger was three times moved quickly
over the nasal organ, with the scream of "nada, nada, nada," the
affair was finally settled, and there was no further appeal from this
hopeless gesticulation.
Even when by great good luck, there was something to be had, there was
still an obstacle in the way. In those days we were often puzzled by
the language, and in trying to make ourselves understood, were forced
to resort to a great variety of expedients. When our broken and
disjointed phrases failed, we were driven to the use of signs and
hieroglyphics; suiting the action to the word, we explained our wants
by distorting the limbs and body into strange figures, symbolical of
the article required. Officers and men were alike in this dilemma; and
fortunate was the lucky genius who could jabber, though in a most
indifferent way, for he was sure to get to windward of his less
favoured comrades. The market-place was a stage, upon which many a
brainless youth, with much more gold upon his jacket than ever his
pocket carried, shewed off his slender stock of Portuguese, and palmed
himself upon the natives as a person of the utmost consequence. Others
expressed their wishes in a sort of gibberish, formed out of scraps of
English, German, French and Latin, but without a syllable of the
language wanted. The soldiers used a most extraordinary dialect,
compounded of Irish, Gaelic, and the mother tongue, interlarded with a
good supply of oaths, by which to impress the subject on the
head-piece of the patient countrymen, who underwent their curses,
rage, and sometimes worse, when the cry of "no intendes" was uttered
by them.
As to signs and gestures, they were as varied as the movements of a
posture-master or even punchinello. When pork or any thing pertaining
to the hog, was wanted, grunting in imitation of that animal, was the
means employed. The desire for eggs was signified by cackling like a
hen; was a mule or jackass required, the hands were stuck up on each
side above the head, to denote the length of ears, or an awful braying
was put forth, enough to call the brotherhood about the performer;
tobacco or snuff was demanded by a sneeze, followed, in many cases, by
a tweak upon the organ in which the filthy powder was to be deposited;
and milk was procured by imitating the extraction of that useful fluid
from the cow. In short, for every thing there was a corresponding
signal, a code of which would have formed an excellent appendage to a
soldier's kit.
We arrived at Guarda in the midst of storm and rain, half drowned and
miserable. Well do I remember the bitterness of the day, while toiling
up the steep ascent that led us to the gates of that old town. Seeing
our deplorable trim, the owner of the dwelling where we were billetted
acted with true Christian humanity; he had dry clothes in readiness,
together with large wood fires, hot wine, and cordials; and, by his
benevolent care, we were restored to the full enjoyment of those
comforts which he so generously bestowed; I have very seldom, if ever,
met with such an instance of disinterested and genuine hospitality.
We now passed the frontier of Portugal into Spain, and halted for a
night at Ciudad Rodrigo. On approaching the city, we were horrified by
the sight of lofty gibbets, four of which were planted on the
entrances, having appended to each the quarters of some unfortunate
malefactor, whose limbs were blackening in the sun. These sickening
emblems of their cruelty impressed us with no very good opinion of the
people with whom we were about to hold friendly intercourse; and their
conduct on this night was quite in character with their gibbets. A
more atrocious set of men we never had the honour of being acquainted
with; and so much did they appear in favour of our enemies, that we
were convinced they would gladly have delivered us into their hands,
if it had been in their power to do so. An officer of the 79th
unfortunately got involved in a dispute, and, while passing through
one of their dark and narrow streets, was barbarously assassinated by
an unknown hand. The troops being obliged to march next morning, at an
early hour, it was impossible to discover by whom the murder was
committed; and, indeed, we were then so circumstanced, with respect to
the Spanish people, that we could not closely investigate the affair.
Ample vengeance, however, fell upon this city when the French got in;
and in the assault and capture of the place, in 1812, plunder and
destruction was its fate: on our return to Portugal, it presented to
our view a heap of burned and desolated ruins.
The part of the country through which we now marched appeared one vast
plain of immeasurable extent. The heavy rains were succeeded by a
gentle fall of snow; and the surface of the ground was crisped by a
light pleasant frost, rendering the highway perfectly hard, smooth,
and level, and most agreeable to our pedestrian feelings.
About 2 P.M. on the 25th of November, the turrets, domes, and spires,
of the justly celebrated city of Salamanca were discernible, above the
sandy heights by which they are encompassed. Crossing the Tormes, by
means of a long antique bridge, we ascended the street leading into
the great square, the windows and balconies of which were filled with
the delighted people; while the countless multitudes around gave
utterance to the most sincere and warm expressions of welcome, highly
gratifying to us, after the murderous reception which had been given
to our troops by the treacherous renegades of Rodrigo. Well pleased to
find ourselves at last, after our long and harassing journey, within
the gates of this interesting and ancient seat of learning, we could
not refrain from giving vent to the gladness by which we were
inspired, and joined our voices with those of the Spaniards, in
cheering heartily as we approached.
Having secured the billets, I proceeded, along with my friend Moore,
to the house allotted for our habitation, which was situated in a
narrow and rather lonely street, adjoining the walls of the great
cathedral, the projecting and massive turrets of which hung with
solemn majesty over our humble dwelling. The patron, who was one of
the officiating ministers of this church, was a man of most important
exterior, with a countenance expressive of the full enjoyment of every
comfort. In this respect, however, we could not aver that he was
selfish; for, upon our admittance within his holy abode, our worthy
host left no means untried by which to manifest the ardour of his
feelings, and the high regard in which he held the English soldiers.
From his well-stored pantry he plied us with every luxury: without
much bashfulness or hesitation, we helped ourselves to the dainty
fare, and, joined by the generous padre, we filled out large potations
of his sparkling wines, in a manner that would have done credit to the
most zealous bon vivant. Our venerable divine was a true disciple of
that school, of which his rotundity of figure, and rosy, shining
visage, were "confirmations strong as proofs of holy writ."
In Salamanca we found every preparation going forward for the advance
of the army, and Sir John Moore waiting for the division under General
Hope, then on its march through the South of Portugal by the Alentejo.
In the meantime, we enjoyed ourselves very much, in the variety
arising from the presence of so large a portion of the troops
assembled here. The officers of our regiments were no less highly
gratified than we were, by the affability and kindness of the people,
who exerted themselves to make our residence among them as happy as we
could possibly desire.
Lieutenant Hugh Birchall, of the Light Company, discovered an old
acquaintance, from his native town in Ireland, in the person of a
Spanish priest; who had, a few years since, come to this place, for
the purpose of finishing his classical education, and obtaining a
higher polish than the bogs of his native country could afford,
preparatory to his entering on the holy office. The reverend divine,
who eventually became a member of the clerical establishment here,
introduced us to his brothers of the cloth, who, though they treated
all with hospitality, directed their attention more particularly to
the Hibernians, whom, considering as _bon Christianos_, they
entertained with all the warmth of brotherly affection. Father
Patrick, as the Irishman was called, maintained the character of his
country for the convivial virtues, and he proved an excellent cicerone
to all the lions of this very respectable city.
CHAPTER V.
Lieutenant General Sir John Hope's division having arrived at head
quarters, the whole of the allied forces, under Sir John Moore,
marched out of Salamanca on the 12th of December, 1808. The snow was
lying deep on the ground; and, although the atmosphere was clear and
bracing, yet the wintry and desolate appearance of all around was
rather discouraging, as we faced the northern blast, coming down most
wrathfully upon us, from the wild mountains of Biscay and Navarre.
After passing through Toro, and other good towns, we at length halted
at Sahagun, a small place, in front of which our advanced guards were
posted. Here we lay encamped until the 25th, on the morning of which
day the whole army was on the move, and the memorable retreat to
Corunna was commenced. The troops entered upon the high road leading
into Galicia, followed by 80,000 French soldiers, commanded by the
renowned conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, in person.
The operations of this part of the campaign have been made well known
by the public records; avoiding all detail, I shall, therefore,
confine myself to those circumstances that happened within my own
knowledge, or that may have occurred in the regiment with which I
served.
Lord William Bentinck's brigade, in the 1st division, was composed of
the 4th, or King's Own, Colonel Wynch:--42nd, Royal Highlanders,
Colonel Sterling:--50th, Queen's Own, Major Napier.
The division was commanded by General Sir David Baird, a man with a
look of military daring, and as brave as a lion. By his presence and
example, the troops, (whom he never quitted,) were encouraged to
proceed with order and regularity, notwithstanding the sufferings they
underwent, under the painful circumstances of a retreat; and it was
not until mind and body had lost all spirit and energy, that disorder
or want of discipline shewed itself among the ranks. Exposed, as they
were, to the most unparalleled inclemency of weather, they submitted,
without a murmur, to a continuance of hard and trying service, enough
to bear down the strongest constitution. To describe minutely the
whole of the privations and miseries which they encountered, would far
exceed the powers of any human being: no one can possibly conceive the
full extent of what the soldiers were compelled to undergo, in the
course of this unfortunate campaign.
The passage of the Esla, a wide and rapid torrent, was an enterprise
attended with considerable loss and danger. On arriving at the margin
of the river, there seemed hardly a hope of being able to get across,
with so much violence did the current roll: and, uncertain as we were
of the part most fordable, it was a perilous attempt for those who
undertook to make the trial. There was, however, no alternative; to
the other side we were to go, at any risk, for, the enemy pressing
closely at our heels, the slightest delay would have produced fatal
results. We therefore dashed at it, and nobly did the men perform
their duty. Agreeable as the cool, refreshing stream may be in mild
regions, it was by no means a very delightful task to wade past one's
middle, or rather up to the neck, through the raging waters, upon a
bleak and cheerless day in December. There was no use whatever in
making any preparation, or in disrobing for the bath; in fact, there
was no time, but with all our harness on, we were compelled to make
the best way we could in the chilling promenade. Luckily a spot was
found, by which the advance was sent across, and the infantry,
following their leaders, struggled along, bearing their arms and
ammunition above the head. After much difficulty, plunging and
buffetting the angry flood, the whole at length succeeded in gaining
the opposite bank; from whence, having "shaken off the watery
dew-drops," and ranged ourselves in some sort of order for another
stretch, we pushed away by the main road leading into the mountains.
The advantage of lofty stature was highly conspicuous in this affair,
for the man of towering height strutted above the wave, with no small
pride on his extent of longitude; while the poor, insignificant fellow
of Lilliputian build, looked pitifully up at his more fortunate
companion, bemoaning his diminutive size, as the muddy fluid either
washed his pericranium, or flowed in copious volumes down his
unwilling throat. As for those ill-fated damsels, our faithful
attendants through storm and sunshine, it had been far better for them
that they had never left their home; for, by their desire to follow
the drum, they entailed upon themselves a world of trouble, and
miseries enough to drain their patience to the lowest ebb. Here I
gladly record the valuable services of those poor women, who, devoted
to their husbands and children, underwent a series of bitter suffering
almost beyond human endurance.
Toiling with their regiments through thick and thin, they never failed
in their duties, and proved, in camp as well as in quarters, the most
active and persevering in giving aid and useful service, whenever it
might be required. Patient under every thing, they were always at
hand, foraging, cooking, and rendering all kinds of assistance; while
the men, borne down by hard fatigue, were often unable to help
themselves. In fact, without the labours of the fair sex, we should
not have been able to get on; and I shall ever respect the heroine,
who has completed the range of her accomplishments, by having served
with honour a campaign or two.
By forced marches, night and day, we at last arrived at Lugo, a large
town on the road to Corunna; and in its vicinity, the army was drawn
up in order of battle. We fully expected, from the confident manner in
which the French troops were brought into the position in our front,
that an opportunity would now be afforded of giving them a warming in
this cold weather. After waiting, however, for nearly two days, they
declined the honour of our services; and their columns closing up, in
numbers far superior to that of our force, it was deemed advisable to
withdraw from the field, when there was no advantage to be gained by
maintaining our ground.
In consequence of the rapid pace at which we moved, the Commissariat
was altogether unavailable; and, depending on the remnant of four days
provisions, our lantern jaws were getting impatient for active
service; for, however briskly the nether limbs might be engaged, it
was quite evident that our jaws were idle, and would never prosper by
their indolence. In this matter there was no respect of persons;
pockets full of cash were of no particular use, nothing was to be
obtained for love or money. Desolation and its accompanying train of
horrors were our companions, and General Starvation, with his two
aid-de-camps, Hunger and Thirst, with all the rest of his personal
staff, were constantly at our elbow.
Sauntering into Lugo one day, I chanced to drop into a crazy building,
the roof of which had been torn up for fire wood. There, in a dark
corner, somewhat resembling a dog kennel, and where some straw had
just been scattered, I espied a group of militants, busily employed
about something, but about what I could not well determine. Upon
closer inspection, however, it appeared that these heroes, most of
whom rejoiced in the title of Colonels or Majors, were in conclave
about the discussion (not of a tactical movement), but of an
ill-looking fowl, that seemed from his lanky sides as if "sharp misery
had worn him to the bones," or as if he had died a natural death some
length of time past.--It was nevertheless a dainty morsel to them, and
they were gallantly tearing it limb from limb, and gnawing the meagre
skeleton, at the time I entered. I departed from a place where the
craving intruder was not a welcome guest, and joined the camp, to feed
on visions of the past, and ruminate on better things to come.
The greatest suffering we endured was want of sleep. In our nocturnal
wanderings, those who were exhausted and overcome with fatigue, (and
few were not,) supported themselves between the men; and, each leaning
on his neighbour, dozing wearily along, would every now and then waken
up by a sudden bump, or push, against the knapsack of the man in
front; thus, alternately bumping and dozing, we travelled with a
staggering pace through the dreary and wintry road. Those who were
made of weather-proof and tough materials kept their places in the
ranks, while others, of more feeble frame and constitution, unable to
withstand the terrible effect of cold and drifting snow, of famine and
want of rest, sunk to the earth, upon the bleak and barren mountain,
where they speedily perished, or fell into the hands of the enemy.
Heavily burthened as the men were with ammunition, there was but a
small proportion of them who were able to maintain their situation in
the ranks.
Lieutenant McCarthy, of our regiment, an excellent old officer and
intrepid soldier, was among those who suffered most from excessive
fatigue. He kept up as long as he had the power, but being somewhat
worn out by hard service, he was indifferently calculated to weather
out the rough work of this retreat. Faint and half frozen, he fell in
the snow, and giving himself up to despair, lay for a considerable
period in an insensible condition. Meanwhile some of his companions,
having missed poor Mac from his accustomed place, quickly retraced
their steps, and found him almost lifeless on the cold earth. By
giving him a few drops of rum, they in some degree restored him to his
senses, and raising his drooping head, they helped him forward to the
next halting place, from whence he struggled on to Corunna, where he
was severely wounded in the subsequent battle. It was about this time
that General Anstruther died, in consequence of privations and
exposure to the dreadful weather.
The weather, for the greater part of our march, was unusually
desperate; the mountains, by which we were surrounded, were covered
with deep snow, and over the dreary waste the wind in piercing blasts
swept violently, driving the hail and sleet in our faces, so as to
render it a most difficult matter to get along. At intervals, rain
poured down with such tremendous force, that our open and straggling
columns were compelled to halt, and close up into a solid body, in
order that only the exterior of the mass might be exposed to the
pelting fury of the storm. To clear away the snow from the spot on
which we halted was our first employment, at the termination of each
day's journey; and a most delightful frigid bedchamber was modeled
out, the damp ground our couch, with the canopy of heaven for a
curtain; the furniture was completed by the fragment of a rock,
turning the softest side of which upwards, to make it serve for a
pillow, our slumbers, during the few short moments allowed for repose,
were sound though unrefreshing. Occasionally crowding in groups around
a huge fire, when wood could be obtained, (which was not always the
case), we gathered in without much ceremony, with our feet towards the
blazing faggots, and stretched ourselves out, somewhat after the
manner of wild animals, patiently awaiting the unwelcome summons that
was to start us from our cold and cheerless lair.
It was truly melancholy to behold this dismal picture of the
exterminating consequences of war. The ravages unavoidably committed
by the troops were excessive. The weather and season of the year
caused it to be almost impossible to procure timber for fuel,
otherwise than by destroying the miserable hovels, that lay dispersed
among the hollows and ravines of these wild regions. The frame-work of
doors and windows, as well as that of the roof, were put in
requisition, the extreme emergency of the case demanding such
resources, without which the army must have been inevitably lost.
Sir David Baird was most indefatigable in his exertions, riding with
the column, passing along both flanks,[11] urging on the weary troops,
at the same time keeping them in their ranks, and, by his orders and
presence, enforcing upon the officers the necessity of attending
minutely to every point of duty. Where the roads were broken up by the
rapid mountain streams, he took post near the stepping-stones, laid by
former travellers across the brooks, compelling all without exception
to pass on through the water, however deep it might be, in order that
no delay or impediment should obstruct the movements of the army.--He
was equally vigilant to frustrate any attempt to plunder, and, in many
cases, he made the officer stand at the door of the wine house, to
stop the admission of those men, who might fall out with that
intention upon the line of march. A more intrepid soldier I have never
seen. Of powerful stature, with a bold stern aspect, he bore in his
sunburnt countenance the indication of a mind equally strong and
vigorous as his body, and wherever he was stationed, military
discipline was carried on with a degree of strictness, worthy alone of
such a warlike and determined man.
[11] While Sir David Baird and his satellites were bustling
about from one flank to another, driving every one through
the water without mercy, several of the knowing hands
devised sundry schemes to cross the chasm dryshod; some
would take a run for it, and with a hop, step and a jump get
safe past the rubicon; others, in the vain attempt, were
baulked half way, and, splashing on, encountered the frigid
element. But, to the men, it was the best sport imaginable,
to see some mighty precise and finical dandy, who, as
unwilling as a cat to wet his feet, was most cautiously
picking his steps, completely discomfited by the coming up
of Sir David in a rage, who, reprimanding him in no very
gentle tones, would send the poor shivering exquisite to
perambulate the stream, to the no small chagrin of our hero,
and to the delight of the whole brigade. The equestrians
and gentlemen of the staff were, in general, not over
compassionate; but, chuckling up in their comfortable
saddles, joined in the general outcry of merriment, and in
their capacity of whippers in resumed their occupation.
While going through the small town of Villa Franca, which is seated in
the midst of a chain of mountains, a dépôt of clothing and provisions
was thrown open, and the contents thereof flung out quickly to the
troops, who, having no time to halt, were puzzled as to how those
things were to be disposed of. Shoes were eagerly grasped at, the men
trying them on as they hastily passed along. There was no fastidious
picking and choosing here, nor were we over nice as to the shape and
quality of the article; whether they were the handy-work of Hoby or of
humbler origin was never enquired about. Such as they were they proved
to many a boon most welcome. Yet some discomfort arose from them in
several instances. Here might be seen a man pinched and tottering
along, making such wry faces as though he were undergoing a course of
torture; while not far from him shuffled along another, in shoes, or
rather churns, that were capacious enough for the feet of the Irish
giant.
It was painful to behold the anxiety of the poor fellows to get some
relief to their hunger; and when the pieces of salt beef and pork were
thrown to them, by the commissary from the storehouse gates, they were
seized upon with the same avidity with which John Bull would pounce
upon plum-pudding or fat bacon; how these delicacies were to be
cooked, was a difficult question to be resolved. Speared on points of
swords, or transfixed with bayonet, pike, or other weapon, the
exquisite morsels of junk were borne aloft triumphant to the first
halting place. Few of them, however, found their way to the end of the
day's march; for the men, fearing that time would not permit the
dressing of the tempting viands, pitched most of them to the crows and
vultures, resorting to the more accustomed and feasible luxuries of
tommy (bread) and rum. Flour was likewise doled out to them in scanty
pittance; but no means of culinary operation being at hand, the
pulverized allowance was scattered to the winds, the luckless warriors
being left to feast upon their own melancholy thoughts, or take their
dinners with Duke Humphrey.
A few of the more cunning among the oldest stagers mixed up a sort of
tough consistence of this same flour, with a solution of snow in dirty
water, and with the aid of a flat smooth stone, by way of table,
manufactured a composition, something in form and substance not unlike
a nine pound shot, and which might be converted to the same use. This
bit of delicate pastry, which was called a doughboy, was sometimes
crammed into the haversack for future provender, and the unfortunate
genius who could not manage to bake the treasured lump, devoured it
ravenously in its moist and tender state. The hard sea-biscuit, soaked
in rum, was a much more agreeable article of food, and it was more
convenient and more readily attained than any thing else.
During occasional halts, and when we could snatch a few moments from
the hands of old father Time, we contrived to get some water boiled,
and, O happy man! that could succeed in procuring a decoction of the
Chinese plant: still more fortunate was he who had even a brief space
allowed, to enjoy the refreshing beverage, for often, while in the act
of introducing the burning fluid to our impatient mouths, the old
adage of 'the cup and the lip,' was verified to our cost, the
aforesaid cup with its contents being hastily thrown away, after
scalding our hungry as well as angry chops; the French, in a most
officious manner, choosing, like Paul Pry, to intrude at that
particular period upon our tantalizing and forbidden cheer.
Passing Nogales, Constantine, and other places on the route, we
traversed the mountain road that wound in zigzags along the barren
sides of the precipice; the wilderness by which we were surrounded
having a most dreary aspect. From the promontory between Villa Franca
and the latter village the money chests were overturned, and the
doubloons and dollars were scattered among the rocks, from whence they
rolled into the dark abyss below, forming a precious cascade of gold
and silver, enough to tantalize the craving rapacity of a Jew. Many of
the wanderers from the ranks got their purses lined, and it was said,
that, in the attempts to gather up the cash, some fell down the steep,
and were dashed to pieces in the chasms, by which the heights were
intersected.
The Paymaster's trade was, in those days, quite a sinecure; with his
hands thrust into his empty pockets, he was a gentleman at large,
whose pay-day was a dead letter, and whose muster-roll was getting
into a very reduced compass.
It was a pitiable sight, at this period, to behold the forlorn
condition of the women and the children. Those who could not get upon
baggage waggons, trudged along with painful steps, scarcely able to
bear up the weight by which they were encumbered. Many sank during the
bitter night famished, way-worn, and in the snow, with infants at
their breasts, or in their arms, and in this situation were found
lifeless and frozen on the following morning. Others took refuge from
the storm on the dismantled ammunition carts, that lay about the road,
and, trying to get shelter there, perished with their children on this
frail tenement as they crouched in groups together.
The whole exhibition was one of appalling wretchedness, that would
harrow up the feelings even of those who had long been familiar with
lamentable scenes. The entire _materiel_ of the army became a
total wreck, from which comparatively small were the numbers that
escaped, and but few were able to keep up with their colours upon the
line of march.
Our clothes were worn to rags, the jacket being no better than "a
thing of shreds and patches," metamorphosed from red to a sort of
muddy claret colour; and as for shoes, O, what a falling off was
there! with sole and body in a state of separation, the partnership
was about to be dissolved.--They could not be said to have held out to
the last, for as they approached their end, they were something like
the Irishman's brogues, that were happily supplied with holes to let
the water out as fast as it rushed in, and gave our feet the advantage
of an excellent portable bath. The other garments were in good
keeping; unmentionables, of every shade and colour, were inexpressibly
worn out, and pieced in a manner that would have qualified the wearer
to perform the part of Harlequin. The whole attire was surmounted by a
nondescript article, vulgarly called a cocked hat, which, glazed with
a substance that had once had a polish, formed a good reservoir for
rain, its angular point answering the purpose of a waterspout, while
the flap hanging over the dorsal region, like that of a London coal
heaver, imparted to the owner, a look of a most dubious character.
Our personal charms could not by any means be made the subject of
admiration, not even the best of us could vie with Adonis on that
head; on the contrary, we might have rivalled the living skeleton, and
many an ambitious tyro, who at home was pampered and well fed, was now
attenuated into the lathy form of a spectre, and would not on any
account have presumed to offer himself as a candidate for the civic
chair. Of exercise and early rising we had an abundance, and as those
things are said to be conducive to health, we ought to have been the
most vigorous of the human race.
To the sad deterioration of costume which I have described, there was,
however, one brilliant exception. It was displayed by an officer of
ours, Lieutenant *****, who entertained us much by the way in which he
managed matters. In the worst of times, when the rain and wind fell
desperately on us during the retreat, and all were, as I have already
said, covered with mud and dirt, and drenched from head to foot, with
nothing beautiful to be seen about us, this lovely youth, a _diamond_
of the first _water_, the very quintessence of an exquisite, seemed on
all occasions as if emerged from the limits of a bandbox. His raiment
and general attire fresh from the mint, he must at least, like King
Richard, have had "a score or two of tailors" to adorn his person.
Whether it was that he was purified by the frequent showers, or from
what other source he derived his amiable appearance, I know not, but
it is certain that we were completely puzzled by the magic of his
toilet; and had Beau Brummel ever ventured on the field of Mars he
would have resigned his claim, as prince of dandies, to our hero. I
knew of only one man in the service who could approach him, and that
was a well known Captain of the 34th. ***** retired soon after from
the army, and cannot fail like his prototype of old, the famous Nash,
wherever he may flourish, (if in this world), to be the leader of the
ton, and the observed of all observers.
Towards the beginning of January, (1809) it was reported that the
shipping, for our conveyance to England, had arrived in the Bay of
Corunna, and it therefore became a matter of doubt whether or not we
should have a field-day with our pursuers, before the time of
embarkation. With the utmost energy that men could display, the enemy,
however, anxious not to lose the opportunity of obtaining, as he
imagined, a certain triumph, put forth his strength to reach the coast
as early as he could, and consequently our rear guard, consisting of
the Light Division, was not allowed a moment's rest. Followed by great
superiority of numbers, the natural difficulty of the ground, combined
with astonishing exertions, alone enabled them to check the foe. Their
vigilance and valour were fully put to the proof, and never did men
acquit themselves better on such an arduous duty than did these
soldiers.
Whenever we gained the summit of a hill, all eyes were on the watch to
catch a glimpse of the long looked out for ships. One height after
another was ascended, but still nothing was in sight; before us lay,
in wearisome perspective, the same tedious road, that seemed as though
it were never to have an end. It was a wide, well-beaten track, the
distances from Corunna being marked in leagues upon huge granite
pillars, or, Hibernically speaking, _milestones_. The inscription
upon them being oftentimes illegible or defaced, we asked some
wandering peasant, who might perchance appear, the space we had to
travel; but we could hardly ever get a correct reply, for though the
stupid fellow told us that we had not more than half a league to go,
we generally found it more than two leagues; sometimes the brainless
oaf screamed _poquito mais_ (a little bit more), this _little bit_
turning out at least a league, or upwards, of very honest measure. It
was provoking to be thus baffled and disappointed, but there was no
remedy, and the jaded itinerants kept travelling onwards, in the same
dull route. At length the long wished for Bay was spread out before
us; but alas! no fleet was there! The spirits of all from the height
of joy as suddenly fell below zero, and the misery of hope deferred
was now to be endured. The soldiers, however, soon brightened up, when
told that there would still be time sufficient to give the French a
drubbing; and this idea made every man spring out with a fresh supply
of ardour that carried them right through.
CHAPTER VI.
On the 12th of January the 1st brigade, under General Lord William
Bentinck, marched into Corunna. Proceeding along the main street, by
the harbour side, the 50th was halted in front of a large convent,
near the citadel, where in a short time the regiment was quartered.
After such a protracted course of hard service, and ceaseless
marching, the quietness of even a temporary rest was a luxury most
highly valued; although we knew not at what moment we might be called
again into the field.
While we were stationed here, the great magazine of powder, situated
about three miles off, was blown into the air, with such an awful
explosion, that the sound thereof reached the distant mountains, and
shook, as if by some volcanic agency, the buildings of the town. We
were not prepared for the event, which took place at an early hour,
and while a few of us were seated around our canteens at breakfast, in
one of the convent rooms. Suddenly a violent concussion was felt, and
then a thundering noise was heard, that made the ancient fabric reel,
and tremble on its base, and rattled the tiles and shingle of the
spacious roof about our ears. We were amazed, I may almost say
horror-struck, beyond expression, and a number of confused ideas
rapidly crossed our minds; some declared it was an earthquake, others,
that the enemy's cannon were battering at the walls; no one guessed at
the real cause. In a state of consternation, expecting that a second
peal would annihilate our tenement, and bury us in its ruins, we made
a rush for the doorway, where we met the Adjutant, who explained to us
the whole affair; and this turmoil of fire and gunpowder died away in
smoke.
On the 15th, our brigade marched out of Corunna, and going about two
miles from the gates, was drawn up in position upon the extremity of a
chain of heights, extending in a semicircular form towards the North.
This movement was made in consequence of the decision of Sir John
Moore to give the enemy battle; for, the transports not having come
round from Vigo, (into which port they had been blown by contrary
winds), he determined to make one grand effort, and maintain the
honour of the British army. It would thus be seen that, however
irregular his troops had been, upon a difficult march, they were well
prepared to meet the foe; and that their high character for
steadiness, as well as courage, would never fail when called upon in
the hour of danger; proving at the same time, that in the cause of
England, "every man would do his duty."
Sir John Moore himself, almost worn out by constant anxiety, arising
from various unforeseen causes, was yet endued with mental force as
strong as ever; and, abundant in resources, he never lost that
coolness and self-possession which availed him so much. Possessing
great humanity, he felt deeply for the dreadful sufferings of his men,
and in his exertions to alleviate them he was unremitting. Many times
have I seen him go about the lines, from one encampment to another,
wrapped up in his military cloak, without parade or ostentation, in
order that he might personally inspect the condition of the troops,
and as far as in his power lay afford them relief, and add to their
comforts.
His position, as chief of the army, was one of much difficulty; and
his energies were so greatly paralysed by the interference of
professing friends, and the false intelligence of his real enemies,
that it appears miraculous how he ever brought the forces through. His
great perseverance, intrepid spirit, and warlike talent, enabled him
to overcome those trials which would have broken down another man. Let
those who have calumniated his name be for ever silent, when they
reflect on that devotedness of conduct, by which, in the moment of
peril, he preserved untarnished the fame of Britain's sons, falling
himself nobly for their glory, and by their side, in the hour of
victory.
The brigade was formed on the crest of the hill, with uneven ground in
front, between which and the enemy's position lay a deep and broken
ravine, interspersed with vines and brushwood, and traversed in
various directions by numerous enclosures and narrow lanes, inclining
towards the head of the precipice.
Midway between the place where the 50th stood and the opposite hill
was situated the village of Elvina, consisting of a few poor
straggling hovels, with a chapel in the centre, and surrounded with
fragments of rock, stone walls, hedges, and close winding passages.
The whole French army, under Marshal Soult, occupied a parallel range
to that upon which ours was posted, more elevated and considerably
more extensive.
The troops, being stationed in the alignment pointed out, commenced
the usual operations of the camp, and were, from right to left, in
high spirits at the prospect of giving the French an airing, in return
for their marked attention towards us, for the last three weeks, and
by way of making some amends for all the trouble we must have caused
them. For some days back, it had been perceived that immense bodies
were assembling, and the heights upon which they halted were literally
darkened by their increasing columns. The continual beating of their
drums, (without which their men can never stir), the noisy words of
command, and the din of their ammunition waggons, with the rolling of
their gun-carriages, rung perpetually in our ears from the moment that
we arrived upon the field. The French, on every occasion, make an
excessive display, with much of loud and empty sound, and at all
times, in action, they put forth such frantic and discordant yells,
and raise so much useless clamour, that the report of cannon is often
scarcely greater.
The morning of the 16th opened with the usual routine of duty, the
same exciting work presented itself, the contending parties with eager
attention observing each other's manoeuvres.--The weather was cloudy;
but towards noon the sun shone out, and it continued fine during the
rest of this eventful day.
An extraordinary stir and commotion was noticed, about 2 P.M. in the
enemy's camp, after both armies had dined. From the opposite lines,
numerous light troops were seen advancing in the direction of our
piquets, which had been previously reinforced, and this movement was
followed by a general attack upon the entire chain of outposts.
Our soldiers, deploying into line, occupied their allotted
station.--Being the junior corps, the 50th was in the centre of the
brigade, flanked by the King's Own, and 42nd Highlanders; in company
with such men, the Black Cuffs could not fail, and they were proud,
and justly too, of being enrolled with those fine regiments.
Sir John Moore was quickly on the spot, and with the experienced mind
of an old and skilful warrior, he gave the necessary orders to the
several officers of his army holding command. The staff were then
dispersed, and flying in all directions with those orders to the
various divisions, the whole of which in a very short space of time
were standing to their arms. It was about 3 o'clock when the light
troops advanced in multitudes against our line; rapidly descending the
hill they opened a brisk discharge from their rifles upon our piquets,
that lined the enclosures throughout the wide extent of the ravine. It
was very polite of the Frenchmen to allow us time to get our dinners,
although it will appear that they had not finished their own repast;
however, to make up for this mistake, we helped them to a desert of
forced meat balls, which, composed as they were of indigestible
materials, formed a considerable portion of this day's bill of
fare.--As soon as matters began to wear a serious aspect, the locks
and flints were examined, caps tied on, and other preparatory measures
taken for the deadly strife.
For the purpose of covering his forward movements, a heavy cannonade
was poured down by the enemy from a masked battery on the elevated
ridge. By this plunging fire our ranks were much thinned, and the
round shot, booming on every side, scattered about the splinters,
sand, and stones, that fell in showers upon our heads.--Pending the
operations, a general assault was made upon our left, from whence the
music of artillery sounded loud and incessant.
Perceiving, by the strong fire, that a French corps was pushing
through the hollows, evidently with the view of turning our right
flank, Colonel Wynch, of the 4th, threw back some companies of that
regiment, forming an obtuse angle with the line; which effectually
prevented the enemy from making any further efforts in that quarter.
While this was going on, a regiment of Guards was brought up in
reserve, and posted at the rear of our brigade.
The piquets being now thrown back, from the weight of fire, our men
were ordered to advance to their support. Major Napier, in front of the
50th, gave the word, cheering as he led boldly forward. Passing the
enclosure, and clearing all before them in superior style, they entered
the village of Elvina, which was instantly carried at the point of the
bayonet, and pressing still onwards, under an awful blaze, they made
for the summit of the heights. Meanwhile, the light infantry, an
inflexible and stubborn band, with Captain Harrison at their head,
furiously charged across the broken ground, and bearing away all
opposition, took lodgment in the rocks above. The hamlet being at
length surrounded, its occupants rushed pell-mell into every hole and
corner they could find. A number of these heroes, having ensconced
themselves within the chapel, began to amuse themselves by firing from
the windows, roof, and belfry, at the soldiers. Observing their
murderous design, Captain William Clunes with cool and determined
bravery marched his company to attack them, and having, with all due
ceremony, introduced his grenadiers to their acquaintance, the powerful
fellows would instantly have demolished the chapel, in order to eject
the congregation therein assembled, had they not been hindered by their
leader, who, with the greatest sang froid imaginable, took his stand by
the portal of the edifice, and, grasping an Indian cane of stout
dimensions, threatened destruction to the inmates, if they did not
discontinue their ball practice and surrender, to a man. Astounded by
the Stentor-like tone in which this _notice_ to _quit_ was uttered by
the huge Northern, the garrison resolved at all hazards to evacuate the
premises, and, accordingly, with a desperate rush, they sallied out
amongst the flankers. Many were slain upon the spot, or taken, Clunes
and his party collecting a pretty fair specimen of their afternoon's
work. If the ludicrous could have been thought of at such a moment, the
strange and extraordinary scene was enough to excite the mirthful
faculties of a philosopher. The contrast between the tall and stalwart
grenadier and the diminutive Frenchmen was truly ridiculous; and the
manner in which this gigantic son of Mars turned out the warriors of
Napoleon, without once drawing a sword, and while shot was flying as
thick as hail, was a sight well remembered by those who were present on
that day.[12]
[12] Clunes was many years in the 50th, having been present
with them in all their campaigns up to this period. He was
one of the finest looking grenadiers in the British army;
tall in stature, muscular in frame, with a countenance
expressive of the cool and determined soldier. His
bravery at Corunna called forth the approbation of the
Commander-in-chief, by whom he was immediately promoted to a
majority in the 54th. After serving in that regiment for a
considerable lapse of time, he sold out, and returned to his
native country. He did not long survive, to enjoy the quiet
of domestic life. His death was much regretted by the few
remaining veterans of the 50th, who had been his companions
in the field, and his name stands high in the records of
that corps.
Our battalion companies fought like lions, and pouring rapidly through
the village upset the kettles and cooking apparatus, which were in
full work throughout the streets. The savoury stews, broths and
fricassees, were put _hors de combat_, and small was the number of the
meagre combatants who returned to claim a portion of the half dressed
fare. Having succeeded in forcing every barrier, and cutting our way
through the enemy at every point, the main body of the regiment
pressed on to the higher ground; "forward, forward to the hill!" was
now the cry. Clambering up the steep and craggy ascent, emboldened by
the example of their officers, the soldiers were mowed down
unmercifully by continuous volleys from the crest of the mountain,
almost threatening to annihilate our ranks.
The assailants were not far distant at this time from the brow of the
impending rock, which, bristling with bayonets, seemed to frown in
defiance upon the enterprise. But, although the dangerous attempt to
crown the eminence appeared to resemble a forlorn hope, Major Napier,
with determined boldness, resolved to carry, by a coup-de-main, the
enemy's strong hold; waving, therefore, his sabre in the air, he
loudly called upon his men to follow.--His enthusiastic spirit had
urged him on, beyond the foremost of the soldiers, when he fell,
severely wounded, and, before we could approach to rescue him, he was
borne off speedily to the enemy's lines.[13]
[13] Soult behaved in a noble and disinterested manner
towards Major Napier. As soon as it was discovered that his
prisoner was wounded, he ordered that he should be conveyed
within the lines, and receive the attendance of the most
skilful surgeon in the camp. He likewise gave directions,
that he should be provided with every comfort that it was
possible to obtain. To complete the measure of his
liberality and kindness, he allowed the Major, as soon as he
was perfectly restored to health, to return to England, on
parole, in order that an exchange might be effected with a
Field Officer of the French army. This act was of itself
enough to stamp the character of the Marshal, and was worthy
of a general, than whom one more talented or brave never
fought the battles of his country.
About this period, the right centre, forcing through the enclosures
and lanes beyond the village, was exposed to a raking fire, and in
consequence was most severely handled, several officers and men being
killed.--Among the former was the Honorable Major Stanhope, who
received a musket ball in the chest, and expired without a struggle.
He was a man of dignified appearance, reserved in his deportment, but
withal a zealous officer. Having joined the regiment at the outset of
this campaign, his career was brief, though splendid. The same round
of musketry that caused the death of Stanhope, proved fatal to both
the officers of the colours, Ensigns Moore and Stewart; the former
survived but to arrive in England, the latter never spoke. They were
promising young men, and much regretted by every member of the corps.
Among the slain were also Lieutenant John Napper Wilson, of the Light
Company.
Poor Moore, my esteemed friend and companion, had all along a
presentiment of his fate; and talked of it as an event inevitably to
happen in the first battle. This sad foreboding, from which I could
not rally him, never for a moment preyed upon his mind, which was
always cheerful and contented.[14]
[14] Moore died at Haslar hospital, Gosport, after lingering
for several weeks. The ball having penetrated his lungs,
there was no possible hope of his recovery. His father was a
clergyman in the North of Ireland, who had lost other sons
in the service of his country.
Ensign Stewart was a quiet and amiable lad, nephew to
Colonel Stewart of the 2nd battalion. His death was
instantaneous, the regimental colour, which he carried,
immediately fell across his body, and was picked up by
Serjeant McKie, who had scarcely delivered his charge to
the officer, ordered for that purpose, when he himself
received a mortal wound.
Wilson, (who was before wounded at Vimeiro,) was an
Irishman, and had been some years in the regiment.
At the moment when these officers fell, we were passing,
thickly crowded, through a lane enclosed with loose stone
walls, and the fire, to which we were sadly exposed, raked
us most unmercifully. The colours, with the officers around
them, formed a conspicuous mark, against which, with deadly
aim, a fatal shower of bullets was discharged. It was such
hot work, that a man would be inclined to give himself a
_shake_ or two, after all was over, in order to ascertain
whether his head was on his shoulders.
Our ammunition being expended, seventy rounds per man having been
already fired, and all our efforts being unavailing against such
fearful odds, orders were given for us to retire; and, on being
relieved by the Guards, the troops of the 1st Brigade fell back, the
shattered remnant of the 50th resuming its place upon the hill, from
which it had at the outset advanced.
The remainder of the day and great part of the night was employed in
preparations to embark; the huts were, however, occupied, the fires
were kept burning, and every thing arranged so as to prevent the
French from thinking that we intended to decamp without beat of drum.
Soon after nightfall, and when the clash of arms was no longer heard,
an interment of the dead took place, and many a poor fellow, who had a
few hours before been full of life and strength, was now deposited in
his narrow bed. The remains of Major Stanhope were lowered to the
grave by his brother officers and comrades, with their sashes. He had
worn this day a suit of new uniform, and a pair of bright silver
epaulets, in which, with his military cloak around him, upon the same
hour as his lamented chief, he was consigned to an honorable tomb.
While we were engaged in the performance of this melancholy duty, the
Honorable Captain Stanhope of the Guards, aid-de-camp to Sir John
Moore, rode up, directed by the torch light, to the mournful group. It
was the first intimation which he received of his brave relation's
fate. Dismounting, and overcome with grief, he took a last farewell,
and having obtained his ring, together with a lock of hair, he tore
himself hastily away from the heart-rending scene.
It was about 8 o'clock when the troops moved off, in perfect silence
and good order. A strong piquet was left to keep the fires alive, and
watch the enemy's operations. Preparing for a renewed attack upon our
army on the following day, the French camp throughout the night was in
a state of tumult and noisy bustle. The outposts were not allowed much
rest, being serenaded with the din of hammering up their platforms for
the cannon, and sounding the note of preparation for the approaching
tug of war. Little did Marshal Soult know that the bird had flown; for
while he was busy in the midst of all this clamour, the British army
was marching to Corunna, and by daylight was completely embarked. The
soldiers left upon the hill, under the command of Captain Clunes, were
withdrawn about an hour before the clear light of day, on the morning
of the 17th; and taking, not reluctantly, a last farewell of the
encampment, proceeded to the point of embarkation. The lowness of the
tide not admitting the boats to get near to the shore, the men were
compelled to wade above the middle into the water previous to entering
them; hence, so far as regarded this portion of the army, Napoleon's
insolent and oft repeated threats, of driving the English into the
sea, were undoubtedly realized.
Missing their prey, which thus so cunningly slipped from their grasp,
the French were mortified in no small degree. Fighting Jack[15], for
once outwitted, revenged himself by ordering his bulldogs to the water
side, where, being unable to proceed further, he had nothing else to
do, but "grin horribly a ghastly smile," and shew his teeth. By way of
a coup-de-grace, or parting gift, however, he gave us a royal salvo,
which presented to his well-tried antagonists, (who were now on
board), some very striking proofs of his affection, in the very
tangible shape of twenty-four pounders. But we were now beyond his
reach, and he might therefore as well have saved his powder and shot,
which, with all their noise, did us little injury, and only excited
our laughter.
[15] This was the nickname given to Soult by the soldiers.
The piquets were embarked in the Mary, which was at anchor so near the
beach, that for want of something better to do in the way of a little
morning sport, the Marshal made use of our old tub of a transport as a
target, and practised so freely on it, with his heavy missives, that
it was quite time for it to sheer off. Observing this uncivil conduct,
the sea-captain, pale and terrified, with all the horror of a
panic-struck man, cried out, "I'll lose my ship! I'm ruined!" and
running frantic to the bows, he seized upon an axe, and cut the cable.
His vessel being thus allowed to swing round, she became unmanageable,
and as it was blowing a gale of wind at the time, the unfortunate Mary
was driven upon the rocks. The passengers and crew were saved. The
troops, who thus narrowly escaped, were received by the Thomas brig,
and the 50th regiment was taken on board the Ville de Paris of 110
guns.
In the hurry of departing from the Mary, no one thought of going below
deck for any of his baggage; to escape without delay from the battered
vessel was the only object of our ambition; nor, indeed, could a visit
to the cabin be safely attempted. Some, who were on deck with their
bald pates uncovered, took flight without their beavers; thankful, as
the round shots flew across the ship, to decamp with a whole skin.
While we were scrambling into the boats, a ponderous box of dollars,
the property of Captain Gaff, of the 76th, slipped from a sailor's
hands; and as it splashed into the water, poor Gaff stood petrified
with horror, and when it vanished from sight, he looked as if he would
have plunged after it, to rescue the precious treasure.
On the morning of the 18th of January the fleet got under way; and,
after a favourable though boisterous passage, it arrived in England on
the 23rd. We were disembarked at Haslar, and marched from thence to
Gosport, where we remained till the 9th of February, when we proceeded
on our journey to Brabone Lees, in Kent.
CHAPTER VII.
On the 18th of February 1809, after a long and rather harassing march,
the 1st Battalion of the 50th arrived at Braborne Lees in Kent, where
the 2nd had been stationed for some time. Both having assembled and
reunited, old friends and companions in arms meeting once more, a
general scene of festivity took place; the young hands entertaining
their more fortunate brethren, lately returned from the field of
honour, joyous living and good cheer was the order of the day, and it
might be added that conviviality was the regulation for the night.
The 68th and 85th Light Infantry being in the same barracks
contributed in no small extent to those revelries, and each in
succession most liberally displaying the generous hospitalities of the
table, this round of dissipation was continued until a route was
announced to us, for both battalions of the 50th to march forthwith;
the 1st for Ramsgate, and the 2nd for the town of Ashford, four miles
distant. Having obtained my Lieutenancy previous to our return, and
being consequently effective in the 2nd, I joined and marched with
them.
Before proceeding further I must say a word or two about those friends
we left behind.--The 85th, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Cuyler, was
a very smart regiment; and the officers a gay set of light bobs, full
of life and glee. I never saw a finer party of young men; longing for
military enterprise, they cared not in what quarter of the world it
might be offered. To see those happy fellows seated round their mess
table, mingled with the 50th, their delighted guests, it would have
been impossible to imagine that they were so soon to be disunited;
however so it was, and great was the pity that such was to be their
lot; they were in a short time after separated, and dispersed in
various directions, being removed to other regiments and other
destinations. More than a quarter of a century has since elapsed, in
the course of which period I have met with a few of them, others have
left the stage of life or retired from the service, while but small
indeed is the remnant of that gallant band, who once belonged to a
Regiment which has distinguished itself in many a battle field, and
than which there is not a better in the British army.
The 68th was commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Johnston. The officers,
more steady, perhaps, from being more experienced, than their brother
flankers, were a remarkably pleasant set of men, many of whom bore the
appearance of having seen some hard service.
We found Ashford a very dull and uninteresting place, the good people
of which, not being particularly fond of military gentlemen, left us
very much to ourselves, to cogitate as we might in our country
quarters. We made this out pretty well, however, with our regimental
society; and, having also some female campaigners, we carried on the
war happily enough, notwithstanding the churlish deportment of our
civilized neighbours. The Ashfordians, though they looked shy upon us
as a body, could, nevertheless, condescend to notice such of our young
men as boasted a drop of noble blood, or were graced by the possession
of some ancient name. A well-stocked purse was, moreover, a good
introduction to their mahogany; and the fortunate hero, whose
shoulders gloried in a _pair_ of epaulets, or upon whose heels the
spurs might dangle, had a most excellent chance of finding favour in
their aristocratic sight. The humble subs, contented with their
barrack-room parties, were perhaps gainers by the arrangement; for,
although they could not boast of so much tinsel or cold display, there
was among them much more social manners and generous liberality, while
good fellowship and unaffected mirth presided at their less splendid
though far more cheerful board. In the barracks of Ashford, our
companions militant were the 91st Highlanders, and the Warwickshire
Militia, both of which were in capital order for any duty; the latter
in particular, commanded by Colonel S.E. Steward, was a noble body of
men, exemplary alike in appearance and discipline. So that any
regiment of the line might consider it an honour to receive volunteers
from such a corps. The 91st, under Colonel Douglas, has always upheld
the distinguished character for which these Northern warriors have
been famed.
In the early part of the succeeding month of May, the second battalion
received their route for Reading Street, in Kent, where we got into
quarters after a few days hard marching. The temporary barracks which
we occupied were situated in the centre of a highly improved country,
about three miles from the small town of Tenterden. The weather being
delightful at this pleasant season, and our duty not being extremely
severe, the time passed in a manner quite in unison with our wishes,
and without any greater degree of suffering than what occasionally
arose from the hardship incident to a night campaign, upon a
Bacchanalian expedition. As the invitations to the feast were but "few
and far between," the dangers to be encountered on this service were
by no means numerous or important. Deprived by our retired
circumstances of any extensive intercourse with the "gay and lively
throng," we were getting somewhat rusticated, and might in time have
become very quiet and harmless animals, had we been permitted so to
remain. But our retirement was much too easy a mode of existence for
gentlemen of the sword, and all our dreams of luxury and peace were
soon disturbed, by a sudden order from the higher powers, for several
of our officers and non-commissioned officers to proceed with the
utmost rapidity to the Isle of Wight, in order to join a battalion of
detachments, which was then forming at Albany Barracks, and which was
destined to compose a portion of the expedition under the Earl of
Chatham. Being included in the number allotted for this service, I
accompanied the following officers, who commenced their march for
Portsmouth, on Sunday the 25th of June, 1809: Captain Henry
Montgomery, Captain Edward Atkins, Lieutenant William Turner,
Lieutenant Richard Jones, and Lieutenant James Thomas.
With high glee, and an elastic tone of spirits, we entered upon our
journey, equipped and fitted out in a most singular manner, for, such
was the speed demanded on this pressing occasion, that every kind of
conveyance, inclusive of coach, caravan, gig, and fish cart, was put
in requisition for the more hasty removal of our martial band.
Although there was something bordering on the ludicrous in the mode of
our turn out, we cut, nevertheless, a most formidable and imposing
figure.
With scarcely any breathing time, we pursued our hurried course, the
wonder-struck natives of the towns and hamlets through which we passed
staring and gazing upon us, with open mouths, while with joyous looks
we dashed along, as though his satanic majesty himself was at our
heels. The officers were in and outside of coaches, as the case might
be, while the serjeants, corporals and drummers, mounted on vehicles
of more humble pretensions, exhibited their pikes, fusils, and other
weapons, stuck out of windows, doors and various similar openings.
This strange and whimsical cavalcade was not unlike a moveable
battering train, or a troop of warriors in ancient times, and bore no
manner of resemblance to a party of modern heroes travelling
genteelly, though not leisurely, on the King's highway.
On arriving at Newport, in the Isle of Wight, we soon became
acquainted with the several officers who were summoned on the same
duty, and who belonged to different regiments remaining in England.
The battalion of embodied detachments, which was composed of men from
the dépôts of those corps on foreign service, amounted to at least a
thousand bayonets, and when completed for the field was a most
effective and powerful body of soldiers.--With regard to costume, it
was rather motley in appearance, from the many coloured facings
displayed throughout the line; and the officers wearing the plain
round hat, with a small feather stuck on one side like a marine,
served to render still more apparent the diversity of style and
fashion exhibited in our variegated ranks.
Lieutenant Colonel the Honorable Basil Cochrane, our commandant, was a
bold determined officer, and strict disciplinarian. He belonged to the
36th, in which he afterwards served in the Peninsular war, and having
a natural genius for a military life, he, like his brother of nautical
celebrity, was conspicuous on many occasions, during that hard-fought
contest.
The arrangements being concluded, our medley battalion marched to West
Cowes, where it embarked, on the 15th of July, on board of the
Weymouth, armed en flute, Captain Trounce, and on the following day we
sailed to Spithead, where, the troops being much crowded, some of them
were removed to the Clarence Transport[16]. We steered for the Downs
under convoy, on the 25th of the same month. On the 31st, the whole
fleet set sail with a fair wind, and beautifully clear weather,
standing away to the Northward, in the direction of the Dutch
coast.[17]
[16] The night before we sailed from Cowes, a melancholy
event took place; Lieutenant Orr, of the 79th regiment, a
fine spirited young man, was drowned by some accident along
side the ship, as she lay at anchor.
[17] _The undermentioned officers served with the battalion
of embodied detachments on the expedition to Walcheren._
Commanding Lieut. Col. the Hon. Basil Cochrane, 36th regt,
_dead_.
Major John Wardlaw, from 64th regiment.
Major Gomm, from 6th foot.
Major Alexander Petre, from 79th regiment.
[a]Captain William Bains, from 6th regiment, _killed_.
Captain Thompson, from 6th regiment, _dead_.
Captain Henry Balguy, from 36th regiment.
Captain Nathaniel Farewell, from 36th regiment.
Captain Chaloner, from 36th regiment.
Captain Henry Montgomery, from 50th regiment, _dead_.
Captain Edward Adkin, from 50th regiment.
Captain Cooksey, from 79th regiment, _dead_.
Captain Forbes, from 78th regiment.
Captain McPherson, from 78th regiment.
Lieutenant McQueen, from 78th regiment.
Lieutenant Munro, from 78th regiment.
Adjutant Cameron, from 78th regiment, _dead_.
Lieutenant Orr, from 79th regiment, _drowned_.
Lieutenant Turner, from 50th regiment.
Lieutenant Patterson, from 50th regiment.
Lieutenant Jones, from 50th regiment.
Lieutenant Thomas, from 50th regiment.
Ensign Bair, from 33rd regiment.
Ensign Buck, from 33rd regiment.
Lieutenant Tarletou, from 6th regiment.
Lieutenant Addison, from 6th regiment.
Lieutenant Jennings, from 6th regiment.
Lieutenant Pinkney, from 36th regiment.
Lieutenant Bone, from 36th regiment.
Ensign Tunstal, from 36th regiment.
Ensign Finlayson, from 22nd regiment.
Ensign Clarke, from 22nd regiment.
Ensign Beauclerk, from 33rd regiment.
[a] Killed on his return while gallantly assisting in the
defence of Guernsey Packet, which was attacked by a French
Privateer.
On the 1st of August the troops commenced their debarkation, and the
battalion of detachments landed near the village of Camp Vere in the
island of Walcheren, without any opposition.
The French having taken post with their main body in the strongly
fortified town of Flushing, were resolved to defend the place to the
last extremity; the necessary preparations were therefore made for the
attack of that celebrated fortress. Being in Sir Thomas Picton's
division, we were among the number of those allotted for that duty, as
well as for service in the trenches, we marched accordingly to the
ground laid out for us before the works.
Constant occupation having rendered it impossible to keep a journal of
the siege, and having no dependence upon memory, which in general
proves a treacherous friend, I must abstain from any detail, and
confine my remarks to a mere outline of those affairs in which our
regiment was more immediately concerned. I may, however, be allowed
briefly to remark, that the stirring events of this brief campaign
were productive of wonderful excitement among us; and that the
bombardment of the citadel and town, and the incidents that occurred
on the night preceding the surrender, were of such awful grandeur as
to baffle the most descriptive powers.
On the morning after its fall, Flushing presented a thoroughly ruinous
and desolate appearance, from the terrible effects of shot, shells and
Congreve rockets. Almost every building had experienced their
destructive power. Those which stood on ground a little raised, or
high above the ramparts, together with the public edifices and towers
of the churches, were completely demolished. A great portion of the
town was reduced to ashes by the conflagrations arising from the
flaming rockets, which, penetrating whatever they came in contact
with, carried fire and ruin in their train. The wretched and
despairing inhabitants, forced by the ceaseless cannonade to take
refuge in their subterraneous chambers, were even there exposed to the
falling shells; for these, and other projectiles, descending with
amazing velocity, and piercing every floor, finished their career by
an explosion, no less fatal to the building than to the unfortunate
people it contained. It was a fearful and melancholy sight, to
contemplate the scene, and was well calculated to fill the mind with
sentiments of a most depressing nature. The shattered and riddled
dwellings, apparently reeling on their base, and cast nearly off their
perpendicular, seemed almost ready to come down with a tremendous
crash.
The half burnt and dilapidated remains of the more important fabrics,
scorched by the fire, and blackened with smoke, lay heaped in dusky
and spectral masses, truly monumental of their direful fate. The
deserted and gloomy streets, lanes, and alleys, were overspread with
the fragments of the battered walls, accumulated rubbish, and dead
bodies. The stagnant, foul and muddy canals, (by which the place is
intersected), were covered with dark weeds, and on them floated the
putrid remains of various animals, tainting with their pernicious
odour the overheated and oppressive atmosphere. At every step we
encountered the haggard, woebegone and famished aspect of starving
creatures, emerging from their dreary cells, or thinly scattered here
and there, whose funereal countenances might have led one to fancy
that they had lately escaped from the cold and cheerless tomb. These
horrible sights, with many more such, enough to harrow up the soul,
glared around us on all sides, throughout the limits of this unhappy
place, upon which misfortune may well be said to have set her seal.
The troops of the besieging army were drawn up, while the French
garrison passing in review, marched out with the honours of war. This
ceremony being ended, and the enemy having evacuated the fortress, we
entered the gates, and took up our abode in the miserable and
comfortless quarters allotted for our reception.
The heat of the weather was suffocating; and quite sufficient of
itself to produce the sickness which broke out among our soldiers.
Indeed the causes already alluded to in a little time induced a fever,
or something bearing more resemblance to a plague, which led to a
scene of dismay and horror, far exceeding that in which the besieged
had been involved. Contagion and disease, with all their attendant
woes, quickly spread their baneful influence throgout our ranks. The
poisonous exhalations, and marsh miasmata from the loathsome waters of
the canals, combined with the fervid and contaminated air, generated
and extended that deadly endemic, to which so many of our troops
engaged in this campaign became the victims. Men and officers were
attacked in the most sudden and violent manner, while on parade in
good health, and were led away under the fatal illness from which they
were soon released by the hand of death. So destructive were the
ravages of this frightful pestilence that, before many days had
elapsed, our numbers were much diminished, and scarcely enough of men
could be found to perform the duties of the place. The hospitals were
filled, and the convalescents were reduced to so low a state, that it
was a considerable time before they were fit for any service.
Leaving a subject upon which it is painful longer to dwell, it may be
observed that affairs in a short time were restored to order, and the
inhabitants, who remained, having ventured from their hiding places,
and resumed their dwellings, and usual occupations, endeavoured as far
as in their power to extend their kindness towards us. This was all
they had to offer; and, while sympathizing with them, we could not but
lament, that so great a portion of unmitigated suffering should have
become their lot, but such is the fortune of war.
While our battalion was at Flushing the Officers frequently visited
the town of Middleburgh, the capital of the Island, and pleasantly
situated in its centre. It is a clean and very beautiful place,
surrounded by gardens and richly improved pleasure grounds, among
which are interspersed many handsome buildings and cottages, laid out
with a degree of taste and neatness, seldom to be found beyond the
boundaries of England. With regard to the town it is perfection
itself, free from every nuisance; the houses are well built, the
streets wide and regularly paved. Within doors, the love for
ornamental work, combined with elegance, was forcibly evinced; the
painting, gilding, and other embellishments, were most conspicuous,
the walls being lined, either with the coloured delft tiles or, in
those of a higher class, encased with damask, silk, or velvet.
Pier-glasses and mirrors, with costly frames, chandeliers, and
pictures, enlivened their rooms, the furniture of which corresponded
well with these expensive decorations.
To heighten the smart appearance of their streets, the newly painted
shops were shewn off to the best advantage; and, in those containing
plate, or metal ware, the goods, polished and burnished up most
highly, as they lay exposed for sale, were dazzling to the eye, as
well as tempting to the purse of the admiring passenger. At that time,
one of their annual fairs, continuing for a fortnight, was going on:
this being the grand centre of attraction, the Dutchmen and their
Frows, with the youthful damsels, were in numerous attendance, and
seemed quite unconcerned, as if no calamity had happened to their
principal sea-port. This circumstance furnished an additional proof of
the proverbial apathy of these plodding islanders.
They have here a few most extraordinary customs, among which may be
ranked the mode of fitting up their sleeping establishment. On
entering my chamber, at the Hotel in Middleburgh, escorted by the fair
though rotund fille de chambre, I perceived that the counterpane and
blankets were absent without leave. On demanding of my rosy guide the
cause of this, and explaining that, although the night was warm, I
conceived this by much too cool a manner of slumbering, she replied by
pointing, with an arch and significant smile, to a mountain of
feathers. Then, by raising one corner of the ponderous bale, she gave
me to understand that my weary limbs were to repose between two of
these enormous beds; after which she departed with a heavy step,
leaving me to ruminate upon the best mode of proceeding. As I did not
possess any of the heat-defying qualities of the incombustible
Monsieur Chabert, I chose the lesser of two evils, and decided upon
occupying the outside place, on which I accordingly took up my
station.
On the 7th of September the corps of detachments embarked at Flushing,
and the fleet setting sail from the island of Walcheren, with a fair
wind, arrived at Portsmouth on the 10th, where the troops were landed.
Our battalion marched to Porchester Castle, from whence, after
remaining a short time, the several drafts of which it was composed
proceeded to Albany Barracks in the Isle of Wight, for the purpose of
reassembling at their respective dépôts.
Having joined my regiment at Ospringe, in Kent, I received leave of
absence, and, passing the winter in the enjoyment of Irish
hospitality, returned at the expiration of four months to the
regiment, which was then quartered at Silver Hill barracks, in Sussex.
Here I found all my old companions pleasantly situated, and spending
their time in a very social and agreeable manner, while carrying on
the war in their country quarters. As the hum-drum round of daily
occupation in barracks admits of no variety, it would be a waste of my
reader's time and patience to enter into particulars of our peace
campaigns. A little excitement and change of things was, however, soon
brought about, by the unexpected arrival of our 1st battalion, lately
employed on Lord Chatham's expedition; which, under the command of
Major Charles Hill, marched from Hastings on the 22nd of June. They
were stationed here until the 10th of August, when they got the route
for Lewes, from whence they departed, a second time to join the army
in Spain.
The 2nd was ordered to East Bourne, where they arrived on the 12th of
November, 1810. In the temporary sheds, erected on the sandy beach
near that town, we had excellent accommodation, and having, moreover,
a good commandant, we had nothing whatever to complain of. The 81st
regiment, under Lieutenant Col. Milling, and the Flint Rifles, were
stationed here, and their officers being a jovial, pleasant set of
fellows, our rooms presented many a display of merriment and glee,
during the brief space of our companionship.
CHAPTER VIII.
On the 22nd of May, 1811, an order came from the Horse Guards for a
detachment to join the 1st battalion, then on its march from Lisbon to
the frontiers of Portugal. The following officers were of our
party:--Brevet Major Moncrieff, Captain Benjamin Rowe, Captain William
Henderson, Lieutenant Geo. Bartley, Lieutenant William Crofton, Ensign
Alexander Hay, Assistant Surgeon Browne.
All were in high spirits at the prospect of going to the Peninsular
army; and in this state of mind we embarked at Portsmouth on the 25th
of the same month, on board of H.M.S. Romulus, commanded by Lord
Balgonie. His Lordship was a Northern, and a fine athletic figure. He
was fond of gymnastics, and joined the officers in their trips on
shore, for the purpose of enjoying any exercise in that way, for which
they might be inclined. Being a great cricketer, he also formed a
party to engage in that active sport. With a man of this description
to command the ship, it may easily be imagined that our time on board
was happily spent, and I may say with truth, that we all regretted the
hour of separation from the Romulus.
We put into Falmouth, on the 31st, owing to contrary winds, and the
officers were permitted to go on shore, where our enjoyment was soon
interrupted by a change of wind, which springing up favourably our
little convoy once more unfurled their sails; and taking a farewell
glance at the white cliffs of England, we soon found ourselves again
buffetting the rough sea and restless waves of Biscay. After a
prosperous voyage of ten days, we entered the Tagus; and on the 25th
of June the troops disembarked at Lisbon. They marched from thence on
the 2nd of July, on their route to the main body of the allied army.
At the end of a long and most fatiguing journey, we got into Abrantes
on the 7th, where we found considerable delay in obtaining quarters.
After waiting in the streets for more than two hours, under a burning
sun, and starving with hunger, we were supplied with billets upon
houses totally destitute of furniture, which, together with the
wretched state of the inhabitants, formed but an indifferent
commencement to our campaign. We halted at this town during the
ensuing day, and employed our time in exploring the various bearings
of the place. The houses are badly built and old-fashioned, and, on
the whole, Abrantes seems altogether destitute of those comforts
which, from its aspect at first sight, one might be led to expect. We
resumed our march on the 9th, and, crossing the Tagus by a long wooden
bridge, passed on without interruption, save by that which the forests
on our way presented. The road was in general sandy, and full of
stones, and as the sun got up we found the heat and dust intolerable;
owing to these impediments, we did not reach our destined quarters
until 12 o'clock, when we entered Garvao, 18 miles from Abrantes.
The French, whose progress on the north of the Tagus was marked with
cruelty and desolation, did not, fortunately for the people in the
Alentejo, extend their wanderings in that direction; this place,
therefore, as well as many others, had escaped the ravages of an enemy
so destructive, and been hitherto exempt from the miseries inflicted
on a country that has become the seat of war.
Our detachment started from Garvao at 1 o'clock in the morning of
the 10th, an early hour it must be admitted, but at this season the
intensity of the heat precludes the possibility of marching at any
other; we found it, besides, far more agreeable to make a moonlight
journey when the air was cool and refreshing. We were in Gafete on the
9th, where I was lodged at the domicile of Louis Corteja, a wealthy
farmer. The family of the worthy Don consisted of his wife, a plodding
garrulous dame, and two lively daughters, together with a brace of
female attendants. Serenissima Rosa, the eldest, was very pretty, but
not gifted with the nimble-tongued accomplishments of her mother, on
the contrary, she was rather stupid and forbidding in her manners; the
other sister, Maria, although scantily furnished with beauty of form
or feature, was, nevertheless, pleasing and agreeable; nature thus
keeping an equal balance between them. On a hard mattress, upon a
still harder floor, (both of which had long been occupied by a colony
of bugs,) I endured a sleepless night, and looked out impatiently for
the return of day. We were woefully tormented in this manner on our
route; for the French, wherever they appeared, carried millions of the
noxious vermin in their train, leaving a bountiful legacy to their
successors, and thus increasing tenfold the dirt and misery of their
habitations.
On the 11th we entered Portalegre. Our road, though passable, extended
over a deserted region, planted thinly with chestnut and olive trees,
with pines at intervals. Portalegre is large, populous and well built:
although not regularly fortified, it is capable, from the strong
ground in its neighbourhood, with the aid of some works on the
adjacent heights, of making much resistance, and might be rendered
formidable to an enemy by some degree of skill combined with labour,
and by exertions that the Portuguese will never make. The approach
leading through the North-west gate is extremely steep and difficult,
causing to the men and baggage animals great fatigue. The remnant of
an ancient wall affords no defence whatever; and the large and ruinous
arched passages serve but to give some evidence of its former
importance. The public buildings are numerous. The grand cathedral in
the Praça de St. Paulo, is the most remarkable; not only for the
splendour of its interior, but also for the magnificent style of
architecture exhibited in the whole of the fabric. The houses are
generally good, and similar to those of the other principal places
through the country; but they have a cold and miserably unfurnished
appearance within; they are, however, well calculated for a warm
climate, having spacious and lofty rooms, with unglazed windows, at
all times open, and their tiled floors being occasionally sprinkled
with fresh water, an additional coolness is produced, acceptable to
the parched and thirsty inmates.
During our stay at Portalegre I could see nothing of, and consequently
could form no opinion as to the merits of, the fair damsels of the
place, so closely were they all immured, so hermetically sealed up,
within the dark recesses of their habitations. Thanks to the watchful
eyes of the Argus-looking duennas, under whom they were held in
durance vile, we were not gratified by even a hasty glance, and thus
we were utterly deprived of a pleasure, which would have afforded some
consolation for the miseries and fatigues endured in the course of our
rough and wearisome service. These fair and bewitching prisoners (for
such I must suppose them to be,) were by no means willing inhabitants
of their dismal chambers; for as we afterwards learned, they left no
scheme untried to outwit their ancient keepers, and making many an
amorous survey from between their rusty gratings, would gladly have
been emancipated by any of those heroes who paced beneath the windows,
and by whom the various tricks and manoeuvres of the black eyed
Signoritas were not altogether unperceived.
Early on the morning of the 13th of July we marched from Portalegre,
and passing through the villages of Azunar and St. Alaya, arrived on
the following day at the heights of Torre de Moro, on the sides of
which the 50th in brigade with the 71st and 92nd lay encamped. After
unloading our mules, and making other arrangements, we found ourselves
comfortably lodged in huts, composed of branches from the spreading
oak, which grows luxuriantly on those hills; our bed was formed of
rushes from the banks of the Caja, a limpid stream winding along the
boundaries of the wood. The wigwam, although not furnished with a
marble slab, possessed the convenience of a stone table, and a chair
of the same durable material. In one corner, suspended from a twig,
the haversack, well supplied with dry biscuit, was dangling, and in
another the flask of rum or wine, while the paniers, or canteen, amply
stored with sundry articles of provender with which to comfort the
weary frame, completed the appurtenances of the humble shed, and were
sufficient for the wants of the warrior ensconced therein. On the
aforesaid bed, of low pretensions, covered by the camlet cloak or
blanket, with the leathern portmanteau for a pillow, the tired
campaigner enjoyed repose as soundly as though he were provided with
all the "appliances and means to boot" to be found within a palace.
Having broken up from the lines of Torre de Moro, we proceeded to
Elvas and Campo Mayor, on the frontiers, and from thence into the
fertile district of the Alentejo, where, cantoned at Borba and Villa
Viçiosa, we were ordered to remain during the extreme hot weather of
this season. We arrived at Borba on the 22nd of July, and were
speedily established in most excellent quarters, our men were chiefly
lodged in an old Franciscan convent, and the officers billetted
throughout the town. My billet was on the house of a rich 'padre,' who
supplied generously all my wants.
Borba, or Villa Bourba, is a considerable place, though styled by the
natives but a village, and is distant from Elvas five leagues, and one
from Villa Viçiosa, where the other brigades of the 2nd division were
quartered. It is situated in the midst of a fruitful and highly
improved valley, and in the heart of a beautiful country, encompassed
by hills, the summits and declivities of which were clothed with
richly variegated and almost impenetrable woods, the scenery around
being truly magnificent. In the immediate neighbourhood are splendid
groves of orange, lemon and fig trees, besides numerous gardens,
producing every description of the most tempting and luscious fruits,
natural to this delightful climate. The simple yet healthful manner in
which the inhabitants lived, was evident from the abundance of those
gardens, stocked profusely as they were with all the necessaries of
subsistence, which a people who exist chiefly on vegetable diet could
require.
The most extensive and charming of those gardens is that of Don Juan
de Almeida, who, being in the Brazils, has left the care of it to an
old steward, from whom our officers had permission to ramble
throughout its pleasant walks, whenever we might feel disposed that
way: often have we enjoyed ourselves during the sultry hours, while
perambulating those delicious grounds, beneath the verdant festoons,
hanging from branch to branch, so closely interwoven that scarcely
might a single ray of noonday sun penetrate the leafy canopy. At
intervals, terminating the avenues, were white marble seats and
alcoves, together with bowers, composed of shrubs and evergreens,
while interspersed throughout this fairy land were numerous curiously
wrought fountains, the cool waters of which were received into smooth
and highly polished marble reservoirs. Sundry carved figures, on
pedestals, representing their ancient kings, were scattered among the
sylvan groves, seeming, as it were, to gaze with admiration on the
beauties of nature and art by which they were surrounded. The houses
of Borba are well built, and adapted in every way to repel the summer
heat and winter cold; their floors are neatly tiled, and the doors and
framework composed of solid oak. There are usually three or four
extensive apartments, opening off each other, with a kitchen
backwards. By means of large folding doors, thrown open in hot
weather, a constant circulation of fresh air passes through the
building. In winter, the blast is excluded from their rooms by
curtains appended to the doors; and, although they have no fireplaces,
the deficiency is well made up, by means of the brasseiro, a large
circular cauldron well filled with burning charcoal, around which the
Portuguese dames get in congress, discussing the affairs of the
nation, while they enjoy the genial temperature diffused by the heated
but rather suffocating embers.
Many religious buildings are to be found here; and among them the most
remarkable is the Nunnery of St. Clara; a stupendous mass of masonry,
affording, with its chapel and other appendages of monastic style, a
good specimen of these saintly prisons. Enclosing this grave of all
that is fair and lovely, is a wall above twenty feet in height, which
gives the concern a fortified appearance, and renders escape
impossible. The only mode of ingress is by means of a huge pair of
folding doors, which in general are kept securely fastened by locks of
ponderous dimensions. From the court yard the passage leads, by a long
flight of stone steps, to the visiting rooms, to which strangers and
friends of the imprisoned are admitted. In the centre of the thick and
solid wall of this apartment is an opening about six feet square,
furnished with a substantial iron grating, separating the aforesaid
room from another, in which the Lady Abbess with her nuns may
condescend to appear. The visitors being permitted the freedom of
familiar converse, a round of chattering and gossip soon commences,
the gaiety of which, by no means corresponding with vows of retirement
from the world, would rather imply, on the part of the novices, a
desire to participate once more in its lately forsaken joys and
pleasures.
The Capuchin convent is a venerable looking pile, standing in the
midst of a thick wood, near the town. Although dark and solitary with
regard to aspect and situation, within its walls is collected as jolly
a set of monks and friars as ever met together, who living, or rather
merely existing, in a state of lazy indolence, are supported by the
deluded multitude, and supplied most plentifully with an abundance of
good things. On visiting this tomb of fish, flesh, and fowl, soon
after my arrival here, I found that the friars had concluded their 12
o'clock repast, and were preparing to take their usual _siesta_ in the
galleries, while the mendicants and pauper monks, below, were feasting
on the remnants of the banquet left by the reverend fathers. From a
spacious vaulted chamber I descended, by a narrow passage of stone
steps, into the kitchen or refectory, where presented to view were
many indications of the luxurious and sensual manner in which those
holy men mortify their living members. Within a fireplace of immense
capacity lay the expiring embers of the fagots used in cooking their
repast, and around were numerous stoves and ovens, the walls being
garnished with a multitude of culinary apparatus, and other articles
for household service. In the calderio, and kettles, were still the
smoking remains of mutton, beef, and vegetables, together with an
endless variety of savoury food, well flavoured with oil and garlick,
the perfumes from which, though not by any means agreeable to me, were
snuffed up by numerous hinds and paysanos, grinning with delight, as
they peeped through the door on the tempting provender, while they
stood in the grand hall of the convent. These half-starved varlets,
together with a horde of begging friars, with ropes tied round their
bodies, (that in many of them would have been more appropriate
ornaments for their necks), were called into the kitchen, by an old
barefooted monk, habited in a cloak and cowl, who did the duty of head
cook to the fraternity. With an air of importance, and no sparing
hand, he served out to them potsfull of the compound; the poor
wretches received the dole in cork vessels, and made a hearty meal,
devouring it ravenously, while they squatted like so many hungry Turks
at the porch of the establishment.
On the first of September, 1811, we broke up from our cantonments at
Borba, and commenced our march for Portalegre. Under a burning sun,
and parched with thirst and heat, we arrived at Monteforte in the
evening; and on the following day once more entered Portalegre, where
we took up our quarters near a large open space called the Praça de
Rocio. The sufferings of the men were extreme during this route, for,
loaded as they were, each with three days provisions, and sixty rounds
of ball cartridge, together with a well filled knapsack, they were
almost overcome; and on arriving at the termination of this journey
were scarcely able to proceed to their allotted billets. Many went
into the hospital, and for a considerable time the regiment did not
recover from the effects of that unusually long and harassing march.
The officers, most of whom walked, were likewise foundered, and the
sick report was for several weeks after filled with their names.
Ensign Alexander Hay, a very promising young man, who had joined at
Torre de Moro, with the detachment last come out, was attacked by
fever, in consequence of drinking incautiously of cold water while
under the influence of excessive heat, and he died in a few days,
sincerely regretted by his companions and brother soldiers.
Our stay at Portalegre was unmarked by any extraordinary event. The
miserable quarters in which the 50th was condemned to pass the winter
months, were rather calculated to diminish our zeal for military life,
while on the other hand, their attractions being so slight, our ardour
to embark in some active business was rather encreased than otherwise.
We had not, indeed, been exactly placed so as to encounter all the
inclemency of the weather, but we had indisputably undergone a
tolerably rough seasoning while stationed there. My quarters were at
the house of Donna Elvira, an ancient maiden, who had counted at least
fifty winters, her forbidding aspect might lead one to presume that no
small portion of the murky gloom of those winters had been imparted to
her visage, which frowned in a darkened scowl upon her ill-fated
guest. A dilapidated hovel was the tenement of this famed sybil, and
scanty indeed was the accommodation afforded within its shattered
walls; like those in the suburbs of all Portuguese towns, it was
fraught with poverty; and, as if to harmonize more with its dingy
patrona, all the appendages contained therein were of broken, filthy,
and crumbling materials.
I was introduced by the aforesaid hostess into a chamber of sadness,
without the vestige of any thing in the shape of furniture to garnish
its interior; with the exception of two broken chairs, and a rickety
table, as venerable as their proprietor, tottering upon three legs,
gnawed into holes by vermin, hordes of which had long maintained
undisturbed possession of the premises. After throwing an old
colchao upon a floor unswept for ages, the presiding genius of the
place departed slowly, muttering from her toothless jaws sundry
uncouth sounds, which had very much the tone of maledictions.
CHAPTER IX.
Orders from Lord Wellington having arrived, General Hill was directed
to proceed with his division towards Merida and Caceres, in hopes of
being able to surprise and intercept a corps of the French army, under
General Girard, as well as to re-open the communication between La
Pena's Spanish troops and those of Castanos. The 2nd division marched
accordingly, on the 22nd of October, from Portalegre and the out
quarters. The 1st brigade, consisting of the 50th, 71st, and 92nd,
under Major General Howard, was on the alarm post at an early hour;
and by daylight we were pretty far on our route in the direction
previously ordered.
When the clouds and mist had cleared away, the ancient castle of
Alegrete, placed on the summit of a barren chain of mountains was
discernible. To our left extended a long range of heights, in some
parts clothed with wood, and in others with verdant pasture, the
brightness of which gave the prospect a lively effect. The road was
broken and uneven, and, in general, so bad, that our baggage animals
could scarcely make their way. Towards noon the heaviest rain we had
ever experienced set in, increasing as we pushed onwards against the
storm, pelting most furiously, and blown into our faces through the
clefts and openings of the mountain sides close to which we travelled.
We were thoroughly wet to the skin, benumbed by the intense coldness
of the cutting blast, and well nigh deprived of life and motion.
However, supporting each other with hopes of better times, we jogged
on amidst the ceaseless war of hail, wind and rain. We halted at the
village of Codiceira, just within the Spanish frontier, where a few of
us darted into one of the best looking habitations we could see.
There, after taking up without ceremony a good position in the chimney
corner, and before a blazing pile of fagots, we got rid of our well
drenched garments; in exchange for which, cloaks and mantillas were
supplied by the hands of a benevolent old dame, whose exertions to
administer comfort to our exhausted frames deserve to be recorded in
the annals of her country.
While we are enjoying the comforts of this snug place of refuge, I
will take the opportunity of saying a few words as to certain persons
who seemed to think that we had no title to such a luxury. The
dragoons sometimes acted towards the infantry in rather a cavalier
manner, and appeared to treat them as if they were quite an inferior
order of beings. Whether it was because they had the honour of being a
little more elevated from the ground, or that to their visage were
appended the whisker and mustachio, and they talked their mother
tongue in a lisping style, it would be difficult to determine. It is
at all events pretty certain, that many of them, recently imported
from the purlieus of St. James's, assumed a great variety of airs and
graces, unbecoming in the field, however beautiful they might have
seemed in Bond Street, and which the rough and dirty work of war and
fighting failed to do away with. I can never forget the conduct of one
of their noble sprigs, whose regiment happened to arrive at the town
when we were halted. It was a poor place after a hard march, under bad
weather and very heavy rain, but we were glad to obtain any sort of
shelter in the wretched village. We had scarcely entered, when our
ears were saluted with the noise of cavalry, coming down the street,
and in a short space we had a sample of dragooning, such as it would
be vain to look for even among the Cherokees.
Three or four of us were seated round the wide fireplace of a Spanish
hearth, after taking off our well drenched jackets and accoutrements,
and were enjoying the benefit of a fine blazing pile of fire, the very
counterpart of that I have just described, and our servants were
preparing for the culinary operations, when a loud hammering was heard
at the door of the hovel, accompanied by the clanking of carbines,
sabres, sabredashes, and other warlike appurtenances. At the same
moment, in burst a tall, raw-boned trooper, (armed cap-a-pied, with a
countenance well furnished with a most abundant crop, in which the
crows might have built their nest,) followed by two others, carrying
sundry hampers belonging to their masters. The intruder, who proved to
be the officer commanding, gazed with awful stare upon the lodgers
already in the house, and drawing himself up, as if, like Sampson, he
were about to raise the building on his shoulders, called, or rather
growled out, in the tone of an angry mastiff, while he curled the
points of his black mustachios, "these quarters are not too good for a
Col--o--nel of Dra--goons--eh!" and suiting the action to the word, he
flung his implements of war on a table close at hand, with a degree of
violence that shook our frail tenement to its base. His claims to
supremacy being intimated to us, we gathered up our traps, and bundled
out indignantly, looking round, with no very gracious glances, at the
statue in whose possession we quietly left the premises, to go in
search of another billet.
There was a want of courtesy and good feeling here, not in any way
consistent with high bearing, and these, with many other traits of
character, produced a jealousy between us, so that no very cordial
intimacy could take place; nor was there much love wasted on either
side. Engaged in one common cause, in duty on the same field together,
all those ideas of superiority should have been forgotten, and those
heroes with spurs of at least half a yard in length, should have
packed up all their high opinions and fine notions, and sent them to
the stores in England, there to be made use of at some future period.
Such commodities never do for service, nor will they harmonize with
camp or bivouac. They may pass current at home, where the pride of
wealth, gold lace, and dress, go far to raise a man in public
estimation; but lying in a wet ditch, or stretched by the side of a
tree upon the ground, with a tattered cloak for covering, they are of
little value. In that situation, a good blanket, and a well filled
haversack, are worth all the lace, fringe, feathers, and aiguillettes
in the British army.
About this time I remember an officer joined our camp from England,
with a canteen profusely stocked, as well as a good kit. He was
moreover a well dressed young man, apparently fresh from the hands of
Dodd, of St. James's Street, equipped in garments that seemed as if
they were pasted on his body, besides a grey frock coat, lined
throughout with silk, and adorned with frogs and tassels in
abundance.
Such a set of poor unfortunate gypsies as we were must have been
doubtless held in little estimation by our hero, who viewed with scorn
our dingy costume, tarnished and tattered in so vile a manner that
even a Jew broker or an Irish beggarman would have scarcely picked
them up. We had however each of us a good blanket, (and some had two)
that was designed a double debt to pay--
"By night a coverlet,
A saddle cloth by day."
Johnny Newcome, well scented, had a good stock of odours and essences
for service in the field; and instead of beef or rum, his hampers were
amply stored with otto of roses, macassar oil, and other articles of
sweet perfume. He glanced with horror at our ugly trim, but when he
beheld the saddle cloth, he laughed outright, and called us, "blanket
merchants."
It was then cold and wintry weather, the rain occasionally came down
in torrents, so that when the night set in, we found our friendly
coverlet a most timely aid. The green-horn, who was certainly one of
his majesty's hard bargains, eyed us most wistfully askance, and,
shivering in his stays and broadcloth, envied the old stagers while he
tried to crouch from the rain and nipping air under any shelter he
could find.
One of our fellows, an admirable wag, peeped out from beneath his
fleecy counterpane, and observing the plight of Master Superfine, who
lay ensconced behind the stump of an old tree, he hallooed, and
bellowed out so that the whole camp might hear him, "Halloo, old boy!
How do you like the blanket merchants now?" The field was in an uproar
at the joke, and the unfortunate recruit having no desire for war's
alarms, of which he had seen quite enough to damp his fiery spirit,
took himself away soon after, and the Blanketeers never had the
pleasure of seeing his pretty face again.
Having despatched these gentlemen, we will now pursue our march, in
search of General Girard. Early in the morning, on the 23rd of
October, the troops were assembled, and about day-light, it being
clear and fine, we were on the road to Albuquerque. At a considerable
distance, the celebrated castle appeared towering above the hills that
constitute a branch of those which extend from the Sierra de
Arronches, in Portugal, into the heart of Spanish Estrimadura.
Having gained the heights, we entered the town at its base by a narrow
causeway, paved with large stones. Albuquerque, which gave the title
of Duke to a patriot general, is a populous, and good sized place,
enclosed by lofty turreted walls. Similar to others throughout the
country, the houses are flat-roofed, and the streets narrow, close
and dirty.
Marching again on the 24th we passed through the thick woods bounding
the Sierra, our route lying over a wide and level plain. It was late
in the afternoon when we halted in a valley of broom, interspersed
with cork and chestnut trees, beneath the spreading branches of which
we took shelter for the night, and, wrapped up in warm cloaks and
blankets, around huge bundles of burning cork, solaced our weary limbs
after the labours of the day. The only habitation that we saw upon the
desolate road, was a sort of Posada, a large tenement, standing on the
brow of a steep hill, called La Caza de la Castilana. We continued
during the whole of the following day, on the same line and at a late
hour halted on the top of a high and bleak promontory, exposed to the
rain, and all the miseries of a dismal bivouac; but so completely were
we jaded, that we enjoyed good sleep without the aid of rocking; our
chamber was sheltered from the northern blast by large bushes of thick
broom. Travelling for the remainder of the night, we arrived on the
morning of the 26th at Malpartida, a small straggling village, in the
midst of barren grounds, with a most abundant crop of stones. The
inhabitants appeared to be decent and well clad; the women were
good-looking, with ruddy cheeks, and the full glow of health. A number
of buxom wenches, with stout rotundity of limbs, were seated at the
door of their humble mansions on our approach; most of whom were
employed in knitting, and seemed, by the eager glance of their keen
black eyes, to enjoy the novel dress and martial bearing of our
soldiers.
These fair ones were clothed in many colours, their bodies in jackets
of brown cloth, and petticoats to match, of sparing length, thereby
exposing to the rude and vulgar gaze of man their well formed
pedestals. Those were encased in blue stockings with red clocks, and,
to complete this part of their attire, well polished shoes with brass
clasps were appendages of which they were not a little vain. The
mantilla of blue or yellow, gracefully thrown across the shoulders,
and a profusion of rich dark hair, neatly tied with various ribbons,
imparted to the figure an air of peculiar liveliness and interest.
We started from Malpartida betimes on the 27th. The rain again poured
down on us with violence, and throughout the day there was but little
intermission. We rested in a field, near the village of San Antonio,
under a most inclement and desperate night, without the means of
cover, or any refuge from the weather. Fires were not permitted, lest
the enemy should discover our movements, and, as it was intended to
come upon them unawares, we travelled without the slightest noise, the
most rigid silence being preserved in all our movements.
Before daylight we were drawn up in the neighbourhood of Arroyo del
Molino. This place lies on the borders of a wide forest, extending
along the base of the Sierra de Montanches, and was scarcely visible
above the trees, the church-spire alone pointing out its retired and
lonely situation, beneath the adjacent hills.
As the mist, by which the distant Sierra was mantled, gradually
withdrew, we discovered that the French troops were, at that hour,
quietly enough lodged in the town. Little dreaming of the near
vicinity of such unwelcome visitors, they were in the full enjoyment
of their slumbers; and, as they had made no arrangement to guard
against surprise, our unlooked for arrival threw them into the utmost
consternation.
The 1st brigade halted on some rising ground, on the road leading to
the village, into which the 71st Light Infantry was promptly
despatched to pay their respects, as well as to assist Monsieur in the
adjustment of his toilet.
Advancing cautiously in double quick time towards the streets, without
noise or sound of bugle, the light bobs soon gained possession of all
the principal outlets, and although the alarm given by the enemy's
pickets flew like lightning throughout the cantonments, their cavalry
alone, (many of whom were pulling up their saddle girths), succeeded
in making a good retreat before our men appeared. Their infantry,
however, after starting from their beds, out of which they had with so
little ceremony been roused, hastened with all speed towards the wood,
and having extended themselves along its boundaries, a close and well
directed fire was immediately opened on both sides; but the 71st in a
little time pressing in rapidly, followed by the 50th and 92nd, the
Frenchmen gave way in all directions. Retiring across the plain, into
the depth of the forest, they flung away knapsacks, accoutrements, and
other trappings, by which they were encumbered, making, as they
vanished among the trees, such very good use of their legs, that we
found it no easy matter to keep them within hail, or within the range
of those missiles that were despatched to bring them to.
While those performances were going forward, the 3rd brigade, together
with some cavalry, made a rapid flank movement on the Merida road. In
consequence of this, the fugitives became hemmed in, between our
troops and the mountain ridge, on the left. Making a last and
desperate effort, they tried to scramble up the rugged face of the
precipice, but failing in their exertions, the principal number of
their veterans fell into our hands, their leader Girard, with a few of
his ill-fated companions alone escaping across the steep and nearly
impassable heights. Among the officers of rank who became prisoners
was the Prince d'Aremberg. The whole of their guns, baggage, and
commissariat, were left on the field.
A more complete coup-de-main was not made during the war; it was
executed in a manner honourable alike to the military skill and the
courage of our justly respected Chief of Division, General Hill, by
whose talent and steady perseverance the brilliant achievement was
planned, and carried to a successful termination, in spite of the
obstacles opposed by a long march in the most inclement weather. The
object of the expedition was attained in the fullest manner, and the
consequences were most important to the prosperity of the succeeding
campaign.
The firing on all sides having ceased, and the prisoners being
collected under sufficient escort, preparatory to their final exit
from the coast, our brigade proceeded in open column along the plain,
on emerging from which we entered the high road to Merida, on the
Guadiana, passing on to the right of the lofty Sierra. In the woods
about five leagues further we encamped, and on the following day, the
29th of October, we marched into the old town of Merida, when on the
30th we halted.
This ancient town had been completely plundered, and thrown into a
state of ruin and desolation, by the frequent visits of the invaders.
The celebrated buildings, which for ages had stood secure from the
ravages of any other hand than that of time, were now either partially
dismantled, burned, or destroyed. The remains of a Roman amphitheatre,
and those of the Triumphal Arch, built by the Emperor Trajan, are
still, however, in good preservation, and together with the numerous
vestiges of ancient structure are well deserving the attention of the
antiquary.
The convents, nunneries, and other religious edifices, were converted
into barracks and stables for the French army, and therefore exhibited
nothing but naked walls, blackened and scorched by the fires made
therein. The only place of worship that escaped the general wreck was
the grand cathedral in the Plaza, which being a large unsightly pile,
built without taste or uniformity, is not particularly ornamental to
the town. Beyond the outskirts, are the ruins of an aqueduct, which
bears upon its venerable front evidence sufficient of past
respectability, and, though many centuries have rolled away since it
was erected, several of its arches are still in a perfect state. On
the road to Truxillo a new aqueduct has been built, which is not so
light or well finished as the old one. The bridge across the Guadiana
is remarkable for its great length and solidity; it has seventy-four
arches, a great number of which are over a low marsh, on the banks of
the river, dry in the summer months. The extent between each extremity
is about eight-hundred yards. There are watch towers and seats along
the battlements, and the whole structure, composed of a greyish stone,
is well cemented, and seems formed to stand for as many more ages as
it has already stood.
Passing through Montijo and Talavera de la Real, we arrived on the 1st
of Novembe
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