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Title: Twenty-Five Years in the Rifle Brigade

Author: William Surtees

Release date: July 19, 2011 [eBook #36778]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Steven Gibbs, Moti Ben-Ari and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWENTY-FIVE YEARS IN THE RIFLE BRIGADE *** 


[i]


TWENTY-FIVE YEARS IN THE RIFLE BRIGADE.


BY THE LATE


WILLIAM SURTEES,


QUARTERMASTER.



WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, EDINBURGH; AND

T. CADELL, STRAND, LONDON.

MDCCCXXXIII.





[ii]



EDINBURGH:

PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY, PAUL'S WORK, CANONGATE.





[iii]



TO



MAJOR-GEN. SIR ANDREW F. BARNARD,



K.C.B. and K.C.H.



AND THE OFFICERS OF THE RIFLE BRIGADE,



THESE REMAINS OF MY DECEASED BROTHER



ARE MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED,



BY THEIR OBLIGED AND MOST



OBEDIENT SERVANT,




JOHN SURTEES.





[iv]


[v]



PREFATORY NOTICE.


The Author of the following Narrative entered the
Army in early life. He commenced his military career
in 1795, as a private soldier in the Northumberland
Militia; and in the following year he volunteered into
the Pompadours. In this regiment he first faced the
enemy, during the expedition to Holland under the
Duke of York. On getting his discharge from the
Pompadours, in 1802, he again entered the service
as a private in the Rifle Brigade, to which he was attached
for a period of twenty-five years. From his
steady conduct, and ardent love for his profession, he
was soon advanced from the ranks, and, after various
intermediate steps, was appointed Quartermaster; a
situation which he held as long as he continued in the
corps, enjoying the respect and esteem of his brother
officers of all ranks, as is amply testified by the letters
which form the Appendix to this volume.


Though, as Quartermaster, the Author was not
called by duty to join in battle, yet he lost no opportunity
of entering the scene of action, or of placing
himself in a favourable situation for observing what
was passing. It is unnecessary to enumerate the arduous
services of the Rifle Brigade from 1802 to 1815.[vi]
During the whole of that period the Author was actively
engaged with his corps.


The Narrative is faithfully—indeed literally—printed
from the Author's MS. as he left it at his
death. The critical reader may therefore detect various
inaccuracies which, had life been spared to the
Author, would probably have been corrected; but he
will find much to approve, and, hackneyed as Narratives
of the Peninsular War have become, he will also
find much that is new. There is no embellishment
in the style of the Author's composition, but there is
a quiet Defoe-like sincerity and simplicity characteristic
of his pages, and a strain of unaffected piety, that
is very pleasing; and the scenes and descriptions which
he gives, though sometimes singularly chosen, and reported
quite with a manner of his own, are on the whole
portrayed with strong graphic effect. One word,
however, before closing,—our Author is never vulgar.


A severe pulmonary affection compelled him to quit
his corps in 1826. He retired to Corbridge, his native
village, where he arrived on the 24th of October in
that year, and continued there, respected and beloved,
and constantly engaged in acts of benevolence, till
the period of his death, 28th May, 1830.



November 23, 1832.





CONTENTS.


[vii]


PAGE.


CHAPTER I.




Birth and Parentage—Enters the Militia—Volunteers into the Line—Joins
the army destined for Holland—The troops embark at
Deal—Land at the Helder—Laxity of discipline—March for
Schagen—Detachment under Sir Ralph Abercromby sent to surprise
Hoorne—Hoorne surrenders,



1


CHAPTER II.




The Russian Allies carry Bergen—Allow themselves to be surprised,
and the whole army forced to retire to their former position—Skirmishing
in the vicinity of Old Patten—The Russians endeavour
to force their way back to Bergen—The Russian and British
forces joined—The enemy forced to abandon Egmont-op-Zee—Alkmaar
surrenders—The troops advance to Egmont Binnen—Skirmishing—General
engagement—The Enemy repulsed—The
Forces retire to Zaand Wyck—Armistice concluded—Return
to England,



13


CHAPTER III.




Arrive in England—The Pompadours embark for Ireland—Arrive
at Kinsale—Privations in Ireland in 1800—Peace concluded—Our
Author resolves to return home, but ultimately volunteers
into the Rifle Corps or 95th—Embarks for England, and joins
his Regiment at Sussex—Is promoted,



35


CHAPTER IV.




Made Pay-sergeant—Moral Reflections—Wreck of a Dutch East
Indiaman—Reduced Officers—War with France in 1803—Encampment
[viii]at Thorncliffe under the command of General Sir John
Moore—Encampment broke up, November 1804—Embark for
Germany, October 1805—Vicissitudes at Sea—Land at Cuxhaven—March
to Bremen—Outposts established—Retrograde movements,
in consequence of the defeat of the Allied Forces at Austerlitz—The
Allied Forces evacuate Germany—Re-embarkation
of the troops—The Rifle Corps, or 95th, land at Yarmouth,



45


CHAPTER IV.*




Our Author made Quartermaster-Sergeant of the 2d battalion, which
he joins at Feversham, Kent—Expedition to Denmark—Embark
at Deal—Land at Vedbeck, Zealand—Partial Engagements—Siege
of Copenhagen—A division under Sir Arthur Wellesley advance
to Kioge—Copenhagen capitulates—Amnesty between the
Danish forces in the Island of Zealand, and the British—The
British evacuate Denmark—Embark at Copenhagen—Arrive in
the Downs—Land at Deal,



59


CHAPTER V.




Our Author marries—The Battalion to which he belongs ordered to
join the Expedition fitting out for Corunna—Movements of the
Army in Spain—Return to England,



73


CHAPTER VI.




Volunteering—Farther Promotion—Embarks for Portugal, with two
Companies of the Second Battalion—Debark at Cadiz—Advance
to the Isla—The French occupy all the adjacent Towns, except
Cadiz and Isla—Cannonading—Spanish Army—Detachment of
the Allied Army sent round by Gibraltar and Chiclana, to take
the Enemy in the rear of his works, and compel him either to fight
or abandon them—Come up with a portion of the Enemy in the
vicinity of Veger—Bravery of the British—The Enemy repulsed
with great loss, but, from the apathy and misconduct of General
La Pena, and the Spaniards under his command, the French are
allowed to retain their Works in the vicinity of Cadiz,



99


CHAPTER VII.


[ix]




The 2d Battalion of the Pompadours ordered to proceed to Portugal—Our
Author visits England—Returns to Portugal, and joins his
Regiment at Rodrigo—The Army move towards Badajos—Siege
of Badajos—Badajos surrenders—Insubordination among the
Troops—Quelled by the prompt measures of Lord Wellington,



128


CHAPTER VIII.




The Army leave Badajos on the 11th of April, and move into quarters
near the river Agueda, where they remain, till the 11th of
June—Advance towards Salamanca, which, with the exception of
three Forts, the enemy had evacuated—The Forts invested—The
main bodies of both armies bivouack within a mile and a half of
each other, in the vicinity of Monte Rubio and Morisco—The Forts
of Salamanca surrender—The main body of the Enemy retire to
Tordesillas—Movements of the Army,



153


CHAPTER IX.




Preparations for the Field—Amusements in winter quarters—Grand
Review—Advance of the Army in pursuit of the Enemy—Come
up with their rearguard in the vicinity of Hornilla de Camino—Skirmishing—Encounter
with the 1st Brigade of the Enemy, who
are beaten, and forced to retreat—Our Army advance in pursuit—An
affair between the rearguard of the Enemy and our 4th Brigade—Vittoria—General
Engagement—The Enemy defeated—Remarks,



185


CHAPTER X.




Advance in pursuit of the Enemy—Our Forces retreat, in order to
counteract Soult's movements for the succour of Pamplona—Total
defeat of Soult in the several Actions near Pamplona—Our
Forces again advance—Come up with the retreating Enemy at the
Bridge of Yanzi—The Enemy take up a position, behind Vera—A
considerable body of the Enemy attached at the Pass of Echallar,
and forced to retreat,



214


CHAPTER XI.


[x]




The Author, from a mistake, loses his Servants for a few days—A
Feast of Death—A Feast of Life—Fighting near St Sebastian—Singular
instance of Spanish Bravery—St Sebastian is captured,
but no Details given, the Author not having been present—Attack
of the Pass of Vera,



232


CHAPTER XII.




The British Army advance farther into France—Pass the Nive—Soult's
Plans baffled—Two or three battalions of the Nassau and
Frankfort regiments come over from the French—French Politesse—Threatened
Attack by the French—Battle of the Nive—Account
of the Basques,



253


CHAPTER XIII.




The Author's Battalion quartered in Aurantz on 3d January 1814—The
cantonments at Aurantz broke up on the 16th February,
and the Campaign of 1814 commenced—Farther Advance into
France—Skirmishing with the Enemy—Military Manœuvres—Battle
of Orthes—Defeat and Pursuit of the Enemy—Succession
of Attacks on them—They are driven from their Position in
and near Tarbes—Skirmishing at Tournefoile—The Enemy retire
towards Toulouse,



269


CHAPTER XIV.




The British Army cross the Garonne—Advance on Toulouse—Prepare
for the Attack—The Attack—Spaniards driven back—Battle
very hot—French completely defeated—Soult evacuates Toulouse,
and tardily adheres to the Bourbons,



295


CHAPTER XV.




Author's happy state during 1813 and 1814—Character of the veritable
French—British distributed over the Country—Civility of
[xi]the Inhabitants of Grissolles—Amusements in quarters—The British
prepare to quit France,



308


CHAPTER XVI.




Author's Battalion embark for England—Land at Plymouth—Expect
to be again ordered on Foreign Service—Order received—Embark,
with other Troops, for America—Land at Pine Island,



322


CHAPTER XVII.




Proceed to attack the Enemy, and capture one of their picquets—Advance
in search of a Bivouack—Alarmed by shots in front—Fired
on by an American schooner—Captain Hallen severely attacked—Manœuvres
on both sides—Ruse of the Enemy—Fighting
continues—Enemy repulsed at all points—Courage of the British—Battery
brought into play—Activity of the Enemy,



339


CHAPTER XVIII.




British Army told off into Brigades—Advance, and are hotly received—Heroism
of a young Artillery Officer—We take up a fresh position—The
Enemy work incessantly in raising an extensive breastwork—Two
Batteries erected, from which our heavy Ship Artillery
are brought to bear against it, but without effect—The Enemy
also place their Ship Guns on Batteries—Colonel Lambert
arrives with the 7th and 43d regiments—Preparations for a grand
attack on the Enemy's lines, which entirely fails, and the British
are repulsed with great loss,



357


CHAPTER XIX.




Bravery and Success of Colonel Thornton—Negotiation for leave to
transport the Wounded across the River—Insult offered to the
British—They retreat—Our Army embark, and determine to
make an Attack upon Mobile—Proceed in the direction of Mobile
Bay—A Brigade detached to reduce Fort Boyer—The Fort surrenders,
the garrison becoming Prisoners of War—Intelligence of
a Treaty of Peace being concluded at Ghent—Cessation of Hostilities,



378


CHAPTER XX.


[xii]




Ratification of the Treaty of Peace—Exchange of Prisoners—Our
Troops Embark for England—When off the coast of Ireland, receive
Intelligence of Bonaparte's escape from Elba—The Author
and his Battalion reach the Downs, and proceed to Thorncliffe—Embark
for France—Arrive at Paris, and occupy the Champs
Elysées—Review of the Russian Guards—Russian Discipline—British
Troops reviewed—Accident to Prince Blucher—Amusements
in Paris—The Allied Forces, except the Army of Occupation,
leave Paris—The Author's Battalion embark for England—Reach
Dover, and return to Thorncliffe—He obtains leave of absence,
and visits his Family—His Battalion ordered to Ireland—Sets
out to join it, accompanied by his Wife, who dies three days
after they reach Dublin—His Battalion reduced—Joins the first
Battalion at Gosport, which is ordered to Scotland—Arrive at
Leith, and march to Glasgow—The Author returns home in ill
health—His Father dies—Joins his Battalion again—Winters at
home—His Battalion ordered to Ireland—Joins it at Belfast—They
occupy different stations during the Whiteboy Insurrection—Six
companies of his Battalion ordered to Nova Scotia, but the
Author remains with the other four companies—He is shortly ordered
to proceed to Nova Scotia—His health declines—Returns
home in consequence, takes advantage of Lord Palmerston's Bill,
and retires on full pay,



401




Appendix.—Testimonials.—No. 1. From Lieutenant-Colonel
Duffy—No. 2. From Major Travers—No. 3. From Officers of the
2d Battalion—No. 4. From Lieut.-Colonel Ross, C.B.—No. 5.
From Lieut.-Col. Smith, C.B.—No. 6. From Officers of the 1st
Battalion Rifle Brigade—No. 7. From Colonel Norcott, C.B.—No.
8. From Lieut.-Col. Fullarton, C.B.—No. 9. From Lieut.-Col.
Balvaird—No. 10. From Major-General Sir A. F. Barnard,
K.C.B.—No. 11. From Major Logan—No. 12. From
Lieut.-Col. Beckwith, C.B.—No. 13. From Lieut.-General the
Hon. Sir Wm. Stewart, G.C.B.—No. 14. From Major Eeles—No.
15. From Major-General Sir T. S. Beckwith, K.C.B.,



425




[1]


TWENTY-FIVE YEARS IN THE RIFLE BRIGADE.




CHAPTER I.


Birth and Parentage—Enters the Militia—Volunteers into the Line—Joins
the Army destined for Holland—The Troops embark at Deal—Land
at the Helder—Laxity of discipline—March for Schagen—Detachment
under Sir Ralph Abercromby sent to surprise Hoorne—Hoorne
surrenders.


I was born on the 4th of August, 1781, in the village
of Corbridge, in the county of Northumberland; of parents
who may be said to have been among the middle classes,
my father being a tradesman. They gave me such an education
as was customary with people of their station in life;
viz. reading, writing, and arithmetic. My mother having
sprung from a pious race, was the first to implant in my
mind any sense of religion; indeed, it is to the spiritual
seed sown in my heart by her during my youth, that I am
indebted, under God, for having been brought, many years
afterwards, to consider my ways, and to turn to Him.
Nevertheless, being naturally of a sensual and wicked disposition,
I, as might be expected, spent a dissolute youth,
which often caused great pain and uneasiness to my good
and pious mother. But I did not continue long under the
paternal roof; for, having from my infancy a great predilection
for a military life, I embraced almost the first opportunity[2]
that offered, after I became sufficiently grown, to
enter into the militia of my native county. I enlisted on
the 15th of November, 1798, being then little more than
seventeen years of age. I entered this service with the determination
that, should I not like a soldier's life, I would
then, after remaining a few years in it, return home; but,
if I did like it, to volunteer into the line, and make that my
occupation for life. It will readily be believed that this
undutiful step affected deeply my excellent parents; for
though my father was not then a religious man, he had a
heart susceptible of the tenderest feelings; and I really believe
that no parents ever felt more deeply the combined
emotions of tender regret at my leaving them so young,
and for such a purpose, and at the disgrace which my wayward
conduct had, as they imagined, brought upon myself.
But though evil in itself, God overruled it for good to me,
and, I trust, to them also. I would here remark that the
life of a soldier was by no means considered in my native
village, at that time, as at all creditable; and when I sometimes
in my boyhood used to exhibit symptoms of a military
inclination, I was often taunted with the then opprobrious
expression, "Ay, thou likes the smell of poother,"
intimating thereby that I was likely to disgrace myself by
going for a soldier.


I left my family in much grief in the beginning of 1799,
and marched with several other recruits to join my regiment
at Chelmsford in Essex, where we arrived in about
a month, and where I began my military career. I always
liked a soldier's life, consequently I did not suffer from
many of those parts of it which are so unpleasant to those
of a contrary disposition; and, as I took pleasure in it, I
of course made more progress in acquiring a knowledge
of my duty than some others who set out with me. I was[3]
early placed in the first squad, an honour which I considered
no trifling one in those days,—but none of us
finished our drill; for, in July of the same year, an order
was issued, permitting such men as chose to extend their
services, to volunteer into the line, in order to recruit the
army then destined for Holland. We had previously marched
from Chelmsford to Colchester, a distance of twenty-one
miles, which march was to me, I think, the severest I ever
underwent; for being young, and totally unaccustomed to
any thing like it, the weight of the musket, bayonet, accoutrements,
and knapsack, appeared, towards the latter end
of the march, to be almost intolerable; but I kept up, although
excessively tired. This will show how necessary
it is at all times to accustom troops, destined for service, to
move in such order as they will be expected to do when
they take the field—for, if unaccustomed to the carriage of
the knapsack, and to frequent marches with it for exercise,
they will be utterly unable to perform any movement against,
or in the face of an enemy, with that celerity necessary to
ensure success. I volunteered, with several of my comrades,
into the 56th regiment, or Pompadours, so called from their
facings being Madame Pompadour's favourite colour, and we
set off (carried in waggons to accelerate our movements)
for Canterbury, which we reached in two days and one
night, having travelled without making a halt; and there
we joined the skeleton of our regiment, just then returned
from the West Indies, where twice, during the war, it had
been nearly exterminated by disease.


In a few days after our arrival, a selection was made throughout
the volunteers for fit subjects for the light company, when,
fortunately, both myself and William Sutherland (who had
been in the same company with me in the militia, and who,
from our names and size being so nearly similar, had always[4]
stood next me in the ranks) were chosen for this, in my mind,
honourable service. I felt not a little proud at my advancement,
as I considered it, (and as I believe the generality of
soldiers consider it,) to be made a light-bob.


The regiment had not at this time either arms, appointments,
or clothing; but, being in a few days sent off to
Barham Downs, where the army for Holland was assembled
and encamped, we soon after were supplied with the necessary
equipment, and commenced without delay to drill and
get the men in readiness for embarkation. At this time
the flank companies of all those regiments destined for Holland
were separated from their battalions, and formed into
what are termed flank battalions. That in which my company
was placed consisted of eleven light companies, the
command of which was given to Lieut.-Col. Sharpe, of the
9th regiment, an experienced and gallant veteran, who had
commanded a similar battalion in the eastern district, under
the Earl of Chatham. The grenadier battalion was composed
of an equal number of grenadier companies, and belonged
to the same regiments to which ours belonged.
Before our arrival on Barham Downs, the first division of
the expedition, under Sir Ralph Abercromby, had sailed;
and we soon after were called out to fire a feu de joie for
their capture of the Dutch fleet, and their having effected a
landing and gained a victory near the Helder. Nothing
could be more brilliant than our display upon this occasion
appeared to me—we were nearly 20,000 strong, I imagine,
and, being formed in one extensive line, the firing of the
feu de joie produced a fine effect. To my non-military
readers, perhaps, it will be necessary to explain what is
termed a feu de joie. The usual mode is, when formed in
line, for the fire to commence by signal with the right file
of the whole, and each of those on their left take it up[5]
rapidly in succession, so that, to a looker-on, it has the appearance
of a wild-fire running along the line; but on this
occasion we heightened the effect, by beginning with the
right of the front rank only, and when it had passed along
by the front, the left-hand man of the rear rank took it up,
and so it passed along by the rear to the right again. It
appeared to me, at that time, certainly the finest sight I had
ever witnessed. Every heart present was elated with joy,
and beat high to be led on to share in those glorious achievements
which we were then celebrating; but, alas! we were
then ignorant that we were as unfit at that time to suffer the
toils and privations of a campaign, as if we had never seen a
soldier; we were all young, and inexperienced in the highest
degree, and our discipline, as might be naturally expected, was
far from good; for, being an army hastily collected from every
regiment of militia in the kingdom, the officers of course
neither had that knowledge of the characters of their men,
which is so essential, nor had the latter that confidence in
their officers, which only a service together for some length
of time can engender, and which is absolutely necessary to
secure an unreserved and active obedience to their commands.
But the period of our embarkation fast approached; previously
to which, we were reviewed by his Royal Highness
the Duke of York, (who was destined to command
us,) accompanied by several others of the Royal Family,
and by General Sir Charles Grey, my countryman. I believe
they all expressed themselves highly satisfied with
our appearance and movements, and hoped that we would
shortly add fresh laurels to those already gained by our
forerunners.


As it was expected to be a service of only a short duration,
it was determined that the men should embark in
what is called "light marching" or "service order," that is,[6]
with only about half the usual complement of necessaries,
consequently every soldier had to leave a considerable portion
of his things behind him; and, in order to deposit them
safely, empty casks were procured for each company, into
which every man was ordered to stow his extra things, after
being properly packed and labelled with his name, &c. This
rather grieved me, for I had brought with me from home as
good a kit (as the soldiers term it) as any in the army. My
dear mother had prepared me shirts fine enough for any officer,
and abundance of them, but of those thus left I never
saw one afterwards. During our stay in this camp, I never
enjoyed better health or greater lightness of spirits, forgetful
or heedless of the deep and lasting anguish which my
late rash step must naturally inflict upon the hearts of my
tender and affectionate parents; but I was no doubt stimulated
to this thoughtless forgetfulness of them, by witnessing
the animating scenes around me, where all was bustle
and high anticipation of more glorious doings.


We marched from this camp to Deal, where we embarked
in transports already prepared to receive us. As soon as we
arrived we were instantly put on board, but never shall I
forget the effect which the sight of the sea, and such a number
of ships of various sizes and descriptions, had upon me;
for before this I had never been near the sea, although I
had marched from the north to the south of England. But,
to add to all the strange things which then met my view,
we were instantly on marching down put into a large boat
that lay high upon the beach; which, when filled with
troops, they run down into the sea with astonishing rapidity,
turning my stomach, as we entered the water, completely
topsy-turvy. The effect of all this can better be
conceived than described; we were immediately rowed off to,
and put on board our transport, which happened to be a[7]
brig called the Zephyr of Shields. Here also every thing
was quite new to me; but all was met and performed with
the highest spirits, so far as sea-sickness permitted. We
remained on board two or three days before the fleet was
ready for sea; but at length we sailed with a favourable
breeze, and in two or three days more we made the coast of
Holland, and soon afterwards came to anchor within the
Texel. Every thing being ready for landing, and the Helder
being in our possession, we disembarked there on the
15th of September, 1799, having been just one week on
board. We were formed on landing near the town, and waited
till some others had disembarked, before we moved off.
Among those regiments which landed, I remember the 35th
was one. This regiment, after coming on shore, was drawn up
close to us; they had not been long landed before the men
began with their knives to cut off each other's hair, which
then was worn in the shape of a club; this was done without
any orders from their officers, and appeared to me, I
confess, such a breach of discipline, as I could not have anticipated;
for though on the whole it was an improvement,
as later usage has shown, yet I apprehend for a body of
soldiers, without any permission from higher authority, to
take upon them to break through the long-established custom
of the service, was such an utter renunciation of all
obedience to authority, as directly to threaten with destruction
the best interests of the army to which they belonged;
however, at such a time it would perhaps have been attended
with still worse consequences to have made an example
of the offenders, although, had stricter discipline been enforced
from the outset, I feel assured the army in general
would have benefited by it.


Towards evening, we moved forward through the town of
Helder, and proceeded on our route towards Schagen, and[8]
halted for the night on the road, and where such as could find
houses, of which there were a few straggling ones in the
neighbourhood, got into them. I awoke in the night, and still
fancied myself on board ship; for the wind and rain were beating
violently against the little hovel into which a few of us
had crept, and I imagined it was the dashing of the sea against
the bow of the vessel. Indeed so strong was this imagination,
that when I got up, I literally could not stand steady, not
having been long enough on board, to acquire what is
termed my "sea legs;" that is, I had not learned the art
of standing steady when the vessel heeled; and, strange as
it may appear to a person who has never been at sea, I
believe most landsmen have the same feeling for some short
time after being put on shore. We had each man been supplied
with a blanket while in camp on Barham Downs, but
had no proper or uniform mode of carrying them; we had
no great-coats, but made use of the blanket sometimes as a
substitute in the morning, when we turned out to proceed
on our march. We certainly made a strange appearance.
Some had their blankets thrown around them, others had
them twisted up like a horse collar, and tied over their
shoulders in the manner of a plaid; while some had them
stuffed into, and others tied on to the top of their knapsack;
in short, we appeared like any thing but regular
troops. We moved forward as soon as we were formed, and
early in the day reached Schagen-bruck, where his Royal
Highness stood to inspect us as we marched past. Near
this place we fell in with some of the Russian regiments,
they having landed nearly at the same time, and of which
nation there were, I believe, about 20,000 troops expected
to join our army. But if we appeared irregular and grotesque,
I know not well how to describe them; their riflemen
were shod with boots very much resembling those of[9]
our fishermen, coming up considerably higher than the
knee; thus rendering them, I should imagine, incapable of
celerity of movement, one of the chief requisites in a rifle
corps; they also wore large cocked hats and long green
coats. Their grenadiers were dressed more apropos, having
high sugar-loaf shaped caps, mounted with a great deal of
brass, and projecting forward at the top, with long coats,
and gaiters reaching above the knee. Their regular infantry
were nearly similar to the grenadiers, only they wore cocked
hats instead of caps. The regiment which we saw on this
occasion had with it, I should think, full half as many followers
as soldiers, some of whom carried immensely large
copper kettles; others the provisions, and others the officers'
baggage; in short, these were the scullions, the cooks, and,
as it were, the beasts of burden of the regiment; but this
was a bad system, for it increased by one half the number of
mouths to fill, and must have been attended with the worst
consequences when provisions were scarce. The officers,
I remember, carried what was formerly used in our service,
a long sort of pole, with a head like a halberd, and called, I
believe, a "spontoon." This, on passing a general at a review,
the officer twists and twirls around his head, precisely
as a drum-major in our service does his cane. When we
had passed his Royal Highness at the bridge, we moved forward
to the town of Schagen, and took up our quarters in
the church. I thought this extremely odd, as I had been
accustomed to view so sacred an edifice with more reverence
than to suppose they would quarter soldiers in it; but we
were stowed in it as thick as we could well be, and made the
best of our quarters; some taking the chancel, others the
vestry, and some the body of the church; nay, some even
took up their lodging in the reading-desk and pulpit. We
could contrive to make out the Lord's prayer in Dutch,[10]
but could not well proceed further, although there is much
similarity between that language and the English of my
native county. Here, for the first time, we learnt that
our brigade was what was called the reserve, and commanded
by Colonel M'Donald of the 55th regiment; but on this
occasion and in Egypt, the reserve was not what is generally
understood by that term, for in both places it was
composed of some of the best troops in the expedition, and
was generally first called into action. On this occasion, the
reserve consisted of the 23d Welsh fusileers, the 55th regiment,
the grenadier battalion before mentioned, and our
light battalion.


We remained here till the 18th, when towards evening
we were ordered under arms, having been previously supplied
with provisions; and, after every preliminary was
adjusted, we set forward on our march towards the city
of Hoorne, situated on the Zuyder Zee. Of our destination,
the men, of course, were totally ignorant, but no doubt
the officers knew. It turned out that about 8000 troops
had been appointed for this service, the execution of which
was intrusted to that gallant old veteran, and hitherto successful
general, Sir Ralph Abercromby. The intention
was to make a rapid and extensive flank movement during
the night, and surprise and capture the said city, while his
Royal Highness was to attack the enemy in front. We
moved off as it became dark, but such was the state of
the roads that it became the most trying and distressing
march that I believe ever troops undertook; the roads were
literally knee deep in mud in most places, while every now
and then they were rendered nearly impassable, both by the
enemy having broken down the bridges over the innumerable
canals and dikes which intersect this country, and
these canals in many places having overflowed their banks.[11]
None but those who have experienced this or something
similar, can form an idea of the fatigue attending a night
march in such a country, where the column is large. We
marched, I think, in sections of about eight file, that is,
with eight men abreast in the front rank, and the like number
in the rear rank covering them. Conceive, then, your
arriving at an obstacle which the darkness of the night
multiplies a hundred-fold. Not more than one man will
attempt to pass this obstacle at the same time, and he has
to grope his way; consequently all the other fifteen men
must stand still, or nearly so, till he is over, before they
each move on in turn. Multiply this by the 300 sections
behind, and you will have a halt for the rear of probably an
hour or more; standing all this while nearly up to the knees
in mire; or, what is worse, as each regiment has accomplished
the task of getting over, this of course causes the others in
the rear to be drawing up towards it by degrees, so that probably
you are compelled to stand (or, if you choose, you may
lie down in the mud) for a quarter of an hour, or more perhaps;
and then move on again for the space of a few hundred
yards, and then another halt; so that could you lie down
to enjoy a little rest, the constant cry of "forward" resounding
in your ears, just as you begin to close your eyes, renders
it the most tiresome and trying situation that I know of.
It is true, the head of the column does not suffer in an equal
proportion with those in the rear, or a night march in an
enemy's country would be a dangerous operation.


During this march, I remember, when the road was extremely
deep, some one on the right of my section called
out that there was an excellent path a little beyond him;
when one poor fellow moved in that direction, but had not
made many steps, till souse he went into a deep canal.
Whether the man who called out had been actually deceived
by the smooth surface of the water, which appeared in the[12]
dark like a nice level road; or whether he did it through mischief,
I know not, but the poor simpleton who followed his
advice paid dearly for his curiosity, being with some difficulty
extricated from his uncomfortable situation. I may
observe that these canals or dikes skirt both sides of every
road in this part of Holland, and are even made use of as
fences for the fields, there not being any hedges or walls
that I remember to have seen.


About break of day we reached the city, which at once
surrendered; but just before daylight, I became so excessively
weary that I could not continue in the ranks any
longer; indeed men had been dropping out for some hours
before, so that, I suppose, when the head of the column
reached Hoorne, one half the number had fallen out; for
it was beyond the powers of human nature to sustain such
excessive fatigue. I, with two or three others, got behind
a house that stood by the roadside, and laid ourselves down
on a paved footpath which led from the back-door. Never
in my life did I experience a greater luxury than this appeared
to be, where something hard, and that would keep
me out of the deep and filthy mire, could be found to rest
upon.


I laid me down and slept as soundly as ever I did in my
life for about an hour, which quite refreshed me. We then
got up and set off with all despatch to overtake the column,
which we came up with and joined just as they halted after
reaching the city. None of the troops entered the place, I
believe; but my battalion being towards the rear of the column,
was at a considerable distance from it. All now lay
down to rest, and such as had houses near them occupied
them; but those who had not, chose the driest parts of the
canal bank or road, and all were soon buried in profound
sleep, excepting those who were placed on guard.


[13]


CHAPTER II.


The Russian Allies carry Bergen—Allow themselves to be surprised,
and the whole Army forced to retire to their former position—Skirmishing
in the vicinity of Old Patten—The Russians endeavour to
force their way back to Bergen—The Russian and British Forces
joined—The Enemy forced to abandon Egmont-op-Zee—Alkmaar
surrenders—The Troops advance to Egmont Binnen—Skirmishing—General
Engagement—The Enemy repulsed—The Forces retire
to Zaand Wyck—Armistice concluded—Return to England.


From daylight we had heard a heavy and constant cannonade
towards our right and rear. His Royal Highness, with the
remainder of the army, as was before intimated, had moved
forward and attacked the main body of the enemy; but as I
did not witness this action, I forbear to relate what I heard
concerning it, further than this, that the Russians who
attacked the enemy posted in the neighbourhood of Bergen,
having by some mismanagement allowed themselves to be
surprised after having carried that village, the whole army
had been obliged to retire to their former position. In consequence
of this failure, I believe, we were ordered towards
evening to fall in, and (what appeared annoying in the extreme)
to retrace our weary footsteps by the same dirty road
by which we had advanced. Nearly the same fatigue and
misery were endured as in our advance; but the column did
not keep so much together as before, the men falling out
by hundreds, so that the stoppages were not quite so great.[14]
We did not return to Schagen after our retreat, but were
cantoned in some villages in front of that town; and a few
days afterwards we were moved to the right of Schagen,
through Schagen-bruck, to a farm hamlet called Zaand Wyck.


Here we remained till the 1st of October; but I should
not omit to mention, that we had, during the intervening
period, several marches, all of which were made by night,
and in which similar sufferings and fatigue were endured
as in the march to Hoorne. This, it may probably be remembered,
was one of the wettest autumns almost upon
record; and in these marches we generally had the full
benefit of the torrents which fell in this naturally wet
country. I have actually seen the water running out at
the bottom of the men's trowsers like that from the gutter
which carries the rain from the roof of a house. When we
had not a night march, we invariably had to be at our alarm
post an hour before daybreak,—and that being about four
miles distant from our quarter at this time, we never had
what may be called a full night's rest.


Military men will know that the custom of being at the
alarm post before daybreak is almost universal; for, that
being the usual time of attack, it behoves those who are
apprehensive of a visit from the enemy to be on the look-out,
and to be prepared to receive them when they come—here
they remain, till, as the vulgar phrase goes, "You can
see a white horse a mile off," that is, till it is clear daylight,
and they have ascertained that no enemy is in the neighbourhood;
after which, if all be quiet, they retire to their
quarters. Our accommodations at Zaand Wyck may be said
to have been good, for our officers had a farm-house to live
in, and we had a good dry barn and other outhouses to lie
down in; and in which I enjoyed some comfortable nights'
lodgings. But on the 1st of October, in the afternoon, we[15]
were ordered to fall in, it having been previously intimated
to us that we might probably have a brush with the enemy.


We were, of course, all life and glee on receiving the information,
and the usual quantity of provisions having been
issued, and every other preparation made in the night,
we moved off by the same road by which we had usually
advanced to our alarm post. This we passed, and then entered
a most unpleasant country to march through; it being
nearer the enemy, of course all bridges and other communications
had been destroyed. As we moved on, a little after
daylight we were overtaken by the 11th light dragoons,
on which we were ordered to open to the right and left to
let them pass us. They seemed in high spirits, and some
of them cried out, as they passed us, "Go on, my lads,
lather them well, and we'll come up and shave them."


Sir Walter Scott mentions this saying as made use of by
some of the cavalry at Waterloo, as if it were at that
time new; but I can assure him it is as old as 1799, if not
much older, for I certainly heard it used on this occasion,
and I know not but it may have been said long before. The
cavalry inclined, after passing us, to their left, while we
kept down towards the sea; and soon after, on ascending a
small eminence, we got a view of the village of Old Patten,
where we discovered about 10,000 or 12,000 of our army
drawn up near the sea-beach. We passed them, and moved
forward in the direction of a high range of sand-hills, which
commenced about a mile beyond the village, and which overlooked
all the plain below. Here the enemy was posted,
and I was told that they began as soon as we were within
reach to cannonade us; but from the heads of the men in
front, I could not perceive any appearance of such cannonade,
nor do I believe that any of their shot reached us. A
little farther on, however, we met a Russian yager, or rifleman,
coming back and holding out his hand, which had been[16]
wounded, and from which the blood was flowing pretty copiously.


This was the first blood that I had ever seen as drawn
in hostile conflict, and it certainly produced a somewhat
strange effect upon me; it showed plainly that we were in
the immediate vicinity of that enemy we had so often talked
about, and whom we hoped to conquer; that now the time
had arrived which would infallibly prove what every man,
boaster or not, was made of; and that it might happen that
it was my lot to fall. Having reflected (rather confusedly I
own) on the passing scene before me, and offered up an occasional
prayer to Him who alone can cover the head in the
day of battle, we now approached the bottom of this sandy
eminence, when my company was ordered to unfix bayonets,
(for we had previously primed and loaded,) and dash
on at double quick time till we came in contact with the
enemy. No time was left for reflection now, the immediate
duty we had to perform occupied all our attention fully; we
soon got into a smart fire from the enemy's riflemen, which
we found was the only description of troops, except a few
artillery, that we had to contend with, their main bodies of
heavy infantry being on the right and left of this sandy
range, which in some places was about a mile in breadth, in
others more or less.


After the fight had fairly commenced, we kept but little
order, owing partly to the want of discipline and experience
in our people, and partly to the nature of the ground, which
was rugged and uneven in the extreme, being one continued
range of sand-hills, with hollows more or less deep between
them; and partly it may be attributed to the ardour of our
young men, who pressed on perhaps too rapidly. We continued
to advance, and never once made a retrograde movement,
the enemy regularly retiring from height to height[17]
on our approach; but they had greatly the advantage over
us in point of shooting, their balls doing much more execution
than ours; indeed it cannot be wondered at, for
they were all riflemen, trained to fire with precision, and
armed with a weapon which seldom fails its object if truly
pointed; while we were (what shall I say) totally ignorant
of that most essential part of a soldier's duty. They consequently
suffered little from our fire; but we could not believe
this, and tried to persuade ourselves they had either buried
their dead in the sand before we came up to them, or carried
them off as they retreated; but experience has since taught
me to know that we then must have done them little harm.


About the middle of the day, as I and a young man of the
name of Thomas Bambrough (a countryman of my own,
and who had volunteered with me,) were moving on in company,
in passing through one of the valleys to an opposite
height, we were assailed by a little volley from a group of
the enemy which we discovered on a hill in front of us; one
of which shots took effect in poor Bambrough's thigh just
about the ham; he instantly fell, and roared out most piteously;
I laid down my musket and endeavoured to hoist
him on my back, in order to take him out of the fire, which
they now poured in without intermission; but in this I
failed, for he was so completely disabled by the wound, as
to be rendered totally helpless, and it was so extremely
painful that he could not bear the least movement.


I felt constrained to leave him, although I did so with reluctance,
telling him that I would push on to the height we
had first in view, to which I then perceived some more of
our men had advanced, and would drive the enemy from
their position; of course all this was not literally told him,
but something to that effect was said; and I found that the
moment I left him they ceased to fire on him; and, as I promised,[18]
we did drive off the enemy. Shortly after, some of our
own people came up to where poor Bambrough lay, and carried
him off to the rear; he was sent to an hospital, where he soon
after died, they not being able, I understand, to extract the
ball. Soon after this, there were some tremendous volleys of
musketry heard on our left, apparently down in the plain
below us. I, with one or two others, now inclined a little
towards the left, in order to have a peep at the troops there,
so hotly opposed to each other, in doing which, we still kept
our line in front of the enemy's skirmishers.


We found it was the Russian army endeavouring to force
their way towards the village of Bergen, the scene of their
former disaster; but they were most distressingly retarded
by the innumerable canals or ditches, by which the country
was so intersected, and which were generally impassable by
fording. On some occasions I could perceive, when they
had found an entrance into an enclosure, and had fought
their way to the farther side of it, they were obliged to
retrace their steps, and get out by the same way by which
they had entered, the enemy all this while pouring into them
a close and destructive fire. This appeared to me to be most
trying to their patience, and very disheartening; but they
bore it with great steadiness.


Meantime, our own heavy troops were advancing on the
right by the sea-beach, where was a plain of sand, of perhaps
from 100 to 200 yards in breadth; the sand-hills between
the two wings, as I said before, being swept by us, assisted
by a small corps of Russian riflemen. We moved on till
we got a little in advance of the Russian army, (which,
from the obstacles they had to contend with, did not make
very rapid progress,) and immediately over the village of
Bergen, which stood on the plain, close under the sand-hills.
Here, the enemy being in possession of considerable[19]
field-works, plied us pretty plenteously with shells from
their howitzers, (their guns they could not elevate sufficiently
to reach us,) but from which we suffered very little;
for our people being much extended, and the sand being
deep, the bursting of the shells was attended with very little
mischief. Indeed, for a long time, I did not know what
they were; for, having several times heard a loud explosion
pretty near, I actually looked round to see the gun, which I
imagined had fired, but could perceive nothing but a cloud
of smoke rising from the spot, and the small bushes and
herbs about it on fire. I thought it strange, and it was not till
it was several times repeated, that we discovered what it really
was, for my comrades were equally ignorant with myself.


At length, towards the close of the afternoon, a loud and
heavy fire of musketry broke out on our right, which continued
for a considerable time, and then ceased. This was
our heavy infantry, who had advanced by the sea-shore, and
who had now approached the village of Egmont-op-Zee,
where the enemy made a most determined stand, but at last
were driven back with great slaughter, and our people took
possession of the town. From this place the battle derives
its name. A little after dark, the enemy abandoned Bergen
also, so that we ceased any longer to be annoyed by their
shells, which they continued to throw while they held possession
of the place. But a short while before they retired,
one was thrown, which pitched just close over my company,
(for we had then been collected, and were formed in close
order immediately above the town,) and where Colonel
Sharpe and another officer were walking; it lay for a second
or two hissing and burning, and might be expected every
moment to explode. Their road lay close past it; the
veteran however took no notice of it, but continued his
walk and conversation the same as if nothing had occurred,[20]
and without going an inch out of his way. It burst with
a tremendous report, but fortunately without doing either
of them the least injury. I confess I thought it rather too
brave; for it appeared to me that he might have walked a
little farther from it, or stopped for a moment or two without
any imputation on his courage; but people do not all
see things exactly alike.


Our loss in this action was but trifling, considering the
extent of the operations. We had in my company only
about fourteen or fifteen men killed and wounded; among
the latter were my two countrymen, Bambrough, as before
noticed, and Sutherland. One man of our company, I was
told, in charging a fieldpiece, was struck down by the wind
of the ball, and which, although it did not touch him,
brought blood from his mouth, nose, and ears; he never
after thoroughly recovered the effects of it. I do not remember
ever to have felt more fatigued than I did after this
day's work. We had marched before commencing the
action, I should think, twelve miles or more. We had been
kept upon the run the greater part of the day, and had fought
over nearly as much more ground, through loose sand, sometimes
nearly up to the middle of the leg, and over ground
so extremely uneven, that a few miles of leisurely walking
on such, would be more than I should be able to accomplish
now; and we had been nearly all the day deprived of every
sort of liquid, for our canteens were soon emptied of what
little they contained in the morning, and having myself
fired nearly 150 rounds of ammunition, the powder of which,
in biting off the ends of the cartridges, had nearly choked
me. What would I not have given for a good drink? I
felt completely exhausted, and laid me down with the others
with great good-will on the top of one of the sand-hills.
But the night proved extremely wet, so that every one of[21]
us was very soon as completely soaked as if he had been
dragged through a river; and, to crown my misfortunes,
I was without a blanket. Here I must confess my folly,
that others similarly situated may profit by my experience.
Soon after the commencement of the action a rumour
was spread along the line of skirmishers, that the
Duke, seeing the very arduous duty we had to perform, had
said, "Never mind, my lads, if your knapsacks are any encumbrance
to you, and impede your running, throw them
off, and I will take care you shall be furnished with others."
No sooner did this silly report reach my ears, than I, with
many others, equally simple, believed it, without taking
time to consider that if even it were true, a knapsack and
a blanket, (for they were together,) to be useful should be
at hand when wanted. But, simpleton like, away went
knapsack and blanket, and I felt greatly relieved in getting
rid of such a burden, and now pushed on after the enemy
with increased vigour, trying at the same time to persuade
myself the report was true; although I own I occasionally
had my doubts on the subject. But night came on, as I have
said, and such a one as I have seldom seen for wet, and then
I plainly perceived that I had played the young soldier.


An officer of ours of the name of Lacy, who had formerly
been the captain of the Northumberland light company, and
who volunteered with us, offered any man half a guinea for
the use of a blanket for that night only, but without being
able to obtain one: this will give some idea of the kind of
night it was. I had nothing for it, but just to put the cock
of my musket between my knees, to keep it as dry as possible,
and lay myself down as I was. I endeavoured to get
as close as I could to one who had a blanket, and lay down
with my head at his feet, which he had covered up very
comfortably with his blanket. The rain pelted so heavily and[22]
so incessantly on my face, that I ventured after a while to
pull a little corner of this man's blanket just to cover my
cheek from the pitiless storm, and in this situation snatched
a comfortable nap; but he awakening in the night, and finding
that I had made free with the corner of his blanket,
rudely pulled it from off my face, and rolled it round his
feet again.


I was fain to lie still and let it pelt away, and even in
this exposed situation I got some sleep, so completely were
the powers of nature exhausted by fatigue. At length morning
arose and showed us to ourselves, and such a group of
sweeps we had seldom seen. Our clothing was literally all
filth and dirt; our arms the colour of our coats with rust;
and our faces as black as if we had come out of a coal-pit.
In biting off the ends of the cartridges, there are generally
a few grains of powder left sticking on the lips and about
the mouth; these, accumulated as they must have been by
the great quantity of ammunition each of us had fired, and
with the profuse perspiration we were in during the heat of
the day, added to the wet which fell upon us during the
night, had caused the powder to run all over our faces; so
that in the morning we cut the most ludicrous figure imaginable.
However we immediately set about getting our arms
again in trim, for though the enemy had left us masters of
the field of action, they were not far distant from us. We
soon got our firelocks again in fighting order; that is, they
would go off, though the brightness, on which a clean soldier
piques himself, was gone past recovery at this time. I
now felt rather sore from firing my piece so often; the recoil
against my shoulder and breast had blackened them,
and rendered them rather painful, and the middle finger of
my right hand was completely blackened and swoln from
the same cause.


At[23] this time it was reported that a sad accident had occurred
in our battalion; a soldier of one of our companies, in
cleaning his musket, had by some awkwardness allowed it
to go off, and an officer being immediately in front of where
he was standing, the ball had taken effect upon him, and
killed him on the spot.


After getting ourselves brushed up a little, the whole battalion
was brought together, and moved to the right into
the town of Egmont-op-Zee, where the guards and some
other regiments had been since the evening before, after
beating the enemy out of it, as I before mentioned. We
remained here for that day, during which Alkmaar surrendered,
and then advanced to the village of Egmont Binnen,
or Egmont-op-Hoof, I am not certain which it is called, a
few miles in front, and close by the sea.


I omitted to mention, that our fight of the 2d took place
over the ground from which Lord Duncan's victory derived
its name, i. e. Camperdown. This headland, I fancy, we must
have passed during that day's operations—But to return.
We remained in Egmont Binnen till the morning of the
6th, when my battalion was ordered to fall in and march
towards the outposts, a few miles in front, in order, as we
understood, to relieve our grenadier battalion, which had
been out since the day before. We advanced by the sea-shore,
but had not gone far before we saw and heard unequivocal
signs that we should have something more than
outpost duty to perform; the fact is, the enemy was rapidly
advancing, their force in front having been greatly
augmented by reinforcements; but when about two miles
from the village, we met a soldier of the 11th light dragoons
bringing in a French officer, whom he had taken prisoner.
He belonged to the chasseurs-à-cheval, a sort of mounted[24]
light troops, who can act either as infantry or cavalry, as
occasion may require. When we met them, and while they
stood talking for a moment, I could not help thinking it
would have made a fine subject for a painting; for the
officer was most superbly dressed in dark green, with a richly
embroidered pouch-belt over his shoulder, and with a deep
cut across his cheek, from which the blood was streaming
over an extremely handsome face; indeed he was altogether
a most interesting figure, and, contrasted with the rough
features and haughty bearing of the proud trooper who had
taken him, produced a fine effect. The fellow gave his
horse a slap over the flank with the flat of his sword, and
set off with his prisoner, crying out, that there were plenty
more of them to take, and that he would soon return and
bring in another.


As we advanced, we could plainly perceive the enemy
in front, skirmishing with our grenadiers, and we also saw
that they possessed a pretty strong body of cavalry—a
species of troops we had not encountered on the 2d. We
could distinctly perceive the cavalry wading into the sea as
far as their horses could go, in order, as we imagined, to see
past the point of a projecting sand-hill, which obstructed
their view of the beach beyond it; but when they perceived
that the force which was advancing against them was not
great, they attacked our grenadiers with increased vivacity,
and we soon after came in contact with them, for they were
advancing with as great rapidity as if no force was in front
to oppose them.


We soon perceived that they were nearly four times our
numbers, and were obliged to adopt such a ruse de guerre
as is frequently practised by the weaker party, but which
had no effect, I am sorry to say, on this occasion,—that is,
while one part of our force was skirmishing, the remainder[25]
got behind sand-hills a little in rear, and letting the men's
heads just show over their tops, as if standing in columns of
battalions, tried to induce the enemy to believe that each
separate body which appeared was of that force; but no,
Johnny (as the soldiers sometimes call the French) was not
so easily gulled, for they had previously ascertained pretty
accurately the strength of our force in front of them, by the
operation of the cavalry before mentioned. They therefore
pressed on us with the most desperate fury, and in overwhelming
numbers.


We maintained the action as well as our limited means
permitted, and for a while kept tolerable order; but as the
fight became hotter, and the disparity of force more apparent,
I regret to say, our young troops fell into considerable
disorder and confusion. This giving the enemy greater
confidence, of course he availed himself of it, and attacked
us with redoubled impetuosity; and, I lament to say, our
dismayed and disheartened young soldiers fell from one degree
of confusion to another, till at length all order seemed
entirely lost amongst us; and what was at first a rather regular
retreat, became at last a disorderly flight; for wherever
an attempt was made to check the ardour of the enemy,
the immense inequality of force they possessed soon
completely overthrew the few that stood; and many were
the brave fellows, both officers and men, who fell in this
unequal contest, without their having the slightest chance
of successfully opposing our impetuous foe.


The flight now became more like a race than any thing
else, and I imagine they drove us not less than three or
four miles without giving us time to breathe; but when
we had reached within about a mile of the village we had
left in the morning, we perceived some regiments advancing
to our succour; among them was the 23d, which advanced[26]
in line, and showed so good and steady a front as quite delighted
us. We could also perceive to our left, that the
Russians had become engaged with the force in front of
them, and were holding it at bay; indeed by this time the
action had extended considerably into the country, and
some others of the British troops, I understand, were soon
engaged.


On the coming up of the reinforcement, the 23d in particular,
our straggling and broken troops, which had been
so wofully beaten, now united, and again advanced upon
the enemy; and when the 23d had given them a volley or
two, the French gave way and retreated with as great precipitation
as they had advanced. In short the tables were
turned upon them, and the pursuit of them now was equally
rapid with our retreat before them a short while previously;
and before the action ceased, we had driven them considerably
beyond where we encountered them in the morning.
Night scarcely put an end to the action, for the firing continued
long after dark, each party being directed by the fire
from the arms of their opponents; the unwillingness to desist
on our part, I attribute to a desire of revenge for the
disgrace they had inflicted on us in the morning. Towards
the evening it came on exceedingly wet.


Nothing could surpass the steadiness and fine appearance
of the 23d, on entering into action; but they were all old
soldiers, while our two battalions were composed altogether,
I may say, of volunteers from the militia, who had as little
idea of service in the field, as if newly taken from the plough.
I would just remark here, that from what I have witnessed
upon different occasions, I should never be inclined to put
very much confidence in raw troops of whatever nation, or
of what stuff soever they may be composed, for it is certain,
that without being at all deficient in point of courage, they[27]
have not that confidence in their own powers which soldiers
who are inured to service possess; and if hastily or hotly
set upon, while without the aid and example of others more
experienced than themselves, it is many chances to one I
think that they will give way. So it was on this occasion.
Nothing could exceed the materials of which these two battalions
were composed, had they had the advantage of a
little more experience; and no troops could fight better than
they did, after gaining the support and countenance of the
old regiments which were sent to reinforce them.


But I confess with shame, we showed a great want of
nerve in the early part of the day, although to any troops
the occasion must have been one of severe trial. When the
retreat had degenerated into a flight, and every one seemed
intent only on making the best of his way to the rear, I,
with some others who were among the hills, imagined we
could get on faster if we took to the sea-beach, which, although
it also was composed of deep sand, yet was level,
and could not be so very fatiguing as climbing the innumerable
hills over which we had to retreat. Away we accordingly
set for the beach; but we had forgotten to calculate
that if the beach would facilitate our retreat, it also would
the enemy's advance. This we soon discovered, for we had
scarcely descended from the hills when we found ourselves
almost surrounded by the enemy; and it was not without
the utmost exertion in our power that we were enabled to
effect our escape, the balls flying thicker about us during
our short stay here than they had done all the day before.
My haversack was a great encumbrance to me on this occasion,
for, having lost my knapsack as before related, I was
obliged to stuff every thing I possessed into this inconvenient
bag; which, hanging so low as to knock against my thighs,
greatly impeded my progress to the rear, and had nigh got
me lodged in a French prison.


A girl,[28] who had followed a grenadier belonging to my
regiment when he volunteered out of the militia, accompanied
her protector during the whole of this day's
operations, and shared equally with him every danger and
fatigue to which he was exposed, and no argument could
prevail upon her to leave him till the whole business was
over, and till the battalion to which her sweetheart belonged
was sent to the rear at night. I am not certain whether
it was his Royal Highness's intention to have fought this
day, or whether the action was brought on fortuitously;
but certainly, although we began the fight under very unfavourable
circumstances, and things looked rather awkward
at one part of the day, no army ever got a more complete
drubbing than the French did before the business terminated.
I have since learnt that the action became general along
the whole line towards the close of the day. Thus ended
the last affair between the British and French troops during
that unfortunate expedition.


The next day we fell back upon Egmont Binnen, leaving
sufficiently strong outposts to occupy the ground we had
taken, and this day I was fortunate enough to pick up the
shell of an artilleryman's knapsack who had been killed in
one of the late fights; but for necessaries I was totally
destitute, and began soon after to feel the effects of my folly
in throwing away my own. A little before midnight of
the evening of the 7th, we were again ordered under arms
with all dispatch and without noise, and had no doubt it
was for the purpose of advancing as before, so as to reach
the enemy's line by daylight next morning. How great
then was our surprise and disappointment, when we turned
our faces towards the rear, and filed out of the village by
the road leading towards our old quarters! We moved on
in silence till we reached Egmont-op-Zee, where the flashes[29]
from a large coal fire erected by way of lighthouse, shed a
melancholy gleam over our columns as we passed beneath
the hill on which it was erected. Here also by the sea lay
innumerable dead bodies, both of men and horses, together
with broken tumbrils and other sad emblems of the devastation
which a few days previously had been made on this
very ground; for here it was that the heat and principal part
of the action of the 2d took place, when the heavy columns
of the opposing armies came in contact with each other. It
would not be easy to describe our feelings as we moved
sadly and silently along, knowing, as we now did, that we
were for ever abandoning all the advantages that we had
hitherto gained, after so much toil, privations, and loss as we
had suffered; but it was useless to repine. Our leaders
must know better than we could possibly do, what state the
army was in, and what likelihood remained of effecting the
object for which we came into the country; our duty
therefore was to obey, without questioning the propriety of
our present movement, however unpleasant it might be to
our feelings.


We passed by Old Patten, near to which the action of the
2d commenced, and finally returned to our old quarters at
Zaand Wyck, which we reached some time next day, and
where I found my comrade Sutherland, who had been here
for some days; his wound, which was through the shoulder,
not having disabled him from making his way thus far. He
had some mutton already cooked, of which I partook with
great relish, for I needed refreshment much; and after taking
a swig out of his canteen, I laid me down and slept most
soundly, rejoiced and thankful that I had so comfortable a
home to return to.


We remained in this quarter only a day or two, and then
our brigade was removed towards the left of the line,[30]
which, as well as I remember, rested upon Kolhorn. My
battalion occupied the village of Basingohorn, to which we
had retired on a former occasion; I mean on our retreat
from Hoorne. This was one of the villages farthest in
advance, consequently it became an outpost. A night or two
passed quietly, but on the second or third night, a firing
commenced from the advanced sentries all along the line.
Whether the enemy had merely been making a reconnoissance,
or whether they had intended to advance in force, and
our discovering them altered their plan, I know not, but
think the former the more probable; but be as it may, it
had the effect of turning out our whole line of outposts,
which, as might be expected, prepared to give them the
best reception we were able. I remember on this occasion
putting in two balls when we were ordered to load, as I was
determined not to spare them, for I (with all my comrades
I believe) felt sore at having been obliged to yield up all
the advantages we had gained, to an enemy which we
certainly did not consider as having fairly won them from
us in action, but who were more indebted to the severity of
the weather, producing such disastrous consequences on our
young army, than to their prowess in the field. They
retired, however, without giving us an opportunity of
welcoming them in the manner we intended. A few days
after this, on the 19th October, it came to my turn to be
one of the advanced sentries. About break of day, while
musing of many things, of home with all its comforts, and
contrasting it with my then rather uncomfortable situation,
I was suddenly aroused from my reverie by the beating of
drums and sounding of trumpets and music, &c., all along
the French line. I could not conjecture the cause of all
this, for although it is customary to sound and beat the
réveille at this hour, yet never having heard the French do[31]
so before, I concluded something more than ordinary had
occurred to cause them to do so on this occasion, and I
need hardly inform my reader that I kept a good look-out,
in order that they should not catch us napping. In a
short while, however, the mystery was cleared up; for an
officer of ours came round all the advanced sentries to tell
us, that, as an armistice had been concluded, we were not
any longer to prevent the country-people from passing and
repassing, as we had formerly had orders to do. I imagine
the festive noises which I heard arose from this circumstance
having taken place, for I believe the French were tired
enough of the business, although they had now become
in some measure the assailants; or else the cessation of
hostilities allowed them to resume their wonted custom of
beating the réveille in the morning.


Seeing we had failed in our attempt to wrest the country
from the French, and that no hope now remained of our ever
being in a condition to effect it, the prospect of returning
home once more became a pleasing consideration, and I
fully gave way to it. My comrades also now began to turn
their thoughts homeward, and cheerfulness once more
beamed on countenances which for some days past had been
rather gloomy. But by this time the dysentery had made sad
ravages among our young and inexperienced soldiery, for on
a day soon after this, we could in my company muster on parade
only eighteen men out of one hundred, of which it was
composed at the outset. This inefficiency was caused principally
by disease, although we had certainly lost a fair proportion
in the field. It was therefore well that our removal
to a more favourable soil was about speedily to take place;
and wisely had his Royal Highness acted in agreeing to
evacuate a country, the climate of which had been so extremely
prejudicial to his army. About this time also, I[32]
began to have my personal trials and sufferings; for now I
began to feel the full effect of my folly on the 2d inst., in
throwing away my knapsack, for I had not a change of any
description, and the consequence may be easily conjectured.
Filth and vermin now began to add poignancy to my other
sufferings, but I bore up against them all as well as I was
able; and I have reason to thank God, that the strength of
a good constitution enabled me to continue my duty without
yielding for one day to the accumulated effects of these
disagreeables. Soon after this also, the good people of
England, commiserating our uncomfortable situation, sent
out presents of flannel shirts and shoes, which arrived most
opportunely. I was not fortunate enough to obtain one of
the former necessary articles, but my sergeant kindly put
me down for a pair of shoes, of which I stood in great need,
and now beg to return my best thanks to the kind friends
who sent them, although at the time we expected we should
have to pay for them. In a short while after this, the grenadiers
and light battalions were broken up, and each company
returned and joined its own proper regiment. We
joined ours (the 56th) at a weeshaus (or poorhouse),
situated on the great canal which connects this part of
Holland with Alkmaer, and not far from Schagen-bruck.
Here we were occupied for a few days in putting things in
the best order we could, previous to our embarkation.


About the 3d November we marched for the Helder,
from whence we went on board. On our way down, one
of my comrades, who was not over scrupulous in expressing
his sentiments, was railing bitterly against the mismanagement
(as he imagined) of the expedition, and saying, "he
hoped the next time we came to that country, should we
ever come again, that we would leave it under more favourable
circumstances." General Manners (to whose brigade[33]
we now belonged) was riding close behind, unknown to this
complainer, and overheard every word he said. When the
soldier had finished, the General most good-naturedly rode
up to him, and began to argue the matter with him.
"Why," says he, "although we are leaving the country, it
is not from the enemy having compelled us to do so from
his superior bravery or success in the field, for we have
fought only five actions since landing, and in four of these
we have been the conquerors; it is owing solely to the great
sickness and consequent inefficiency of the army that we
have been compelled to this measure." I could not but
admire the affability and kindness of the General, and was
fully satisfied myself, and so were all who heard him, of, I
believe, the justness of the remarks he made. We reached
the Helder the same day, where we remained doing duty
till the 10th November, on which we embarked on board
his Majesty's ship Romney, of fifty guns, commanded by
Captain Lawford, (afterwards by Sir Home Popham.) She
was only a small vessel of her class, and yet our whole regiment
was put on board her; we indeed were not very strong,
but she was crowded beyond measure, for many, nay, most
of the troops had not literally lying room, each company
having barely the space between two guns, which, I should
think, is not more than twelve feet at the utmost, and even
here the sailors, whether with or without orders I know not,
slung their hammocks over us. I particularly remember
this being the case, for I had the second night, by way of
securing room to stretch myself, lain down between decks
early in the evening, and had had some little repose, when
a sailor, whose hammock was slung right over me, and
while standing and making it, put his foot right on my
cheek, and stood there till he had finished. I know not
whether he knew that it was a human head he was treading[34]
on, but I judged it best to be as quiet as possible; preferring
the pain of bearing his weight on my head, rather than, by
moving or crying out, to incur the risk of his foot slipping,
and peeling the skin off my face. The voyage was fortunately
short, for in seven days we landed at Yarmouth, glad
and rejoiced that this unpleasant and ill-fated expedition
was terminated. I know not whether my reader is old
enough to remember the autumn of which I have been
speaking, but to me it appeared one of the wettest and most
uncomfortable that I ever remember; and it was here,
while exposed to its effects, that were laid, most probably,
the seeds of that severe pulmonic affection from which I
have since suffered so much.


[35]


CHAPTER III.


Arrive in England—The Pompadours embark for Ireland—Arrive at
Kinsale—Privations in Ireland in 1800—Peace concluded—Our
Author resolves to return home, but ultimately volunteers into the
Rifle Corps or 95th—Embarks for England, and joins his Regiment
at Sussex—Is promoted.


We landed at Yarmouth on the 17th November, and the
next day marched to Norwich, where we remained a few
days, and where we found the people remarkably kind and
attentive to our comforts; and, indeed, we now cut a most
sorry figure, being literally nothing but rags and dirt; it
was certainly a sad tax on the good landlords on whom we
were billeted, to be compelled to find us lodgings, for we
never left the beds unoccupied by some of the uncomfortable
companions of our travels when we arose in the
morning. I here began to find myself very unwell, for
though I had borne up against sickness in the field, I could
not now receive my food without feeling the most afflicting
nausea, my stomach being completely out of order; and it
was no wonder, for we had been compelled for several weeks
past to drink the brackish water of the ditches of Holland,
no springs (that ever I saw) being there to be found, and
the little water in their wells, when we arrived in the
country, being speedily exhausted. We had also been deprived[36]
of salt nearly all the time of our sojourn in that country,
one of the greatest privations that I know of. Through
the nursing of my kind landlady, however, I gradually regained
my appetite, and with it my health, for which I have
reason to be truly thankful to Him who has ever dealt so
mercifully with me.


In a few days we left Norwich on our route to Chelmsford,
and on our way passed through Bury St Edmunds,
where my late regiment, the Northumberland militia, was
quartered; they vied with each other in showing us kind
attentions, but our miserable appearance put the soldiers of
this regiment sadly out of love with the regular service.


We did not remain at Chelmsford long, but marched
again for Horsham in Sussex, on which occasion I for the
first time had a view of the metropolis, as we passed through
it, by way of Whitechapel and London Bridge, &c. At
Horsham we were quartered during the remainder of this
winter. About the 10th or 12th of February 1800, we
marched for Portsmouth, where we embarked for Ireland
on the 14th. On this occasion the regiment was put on
board two first-rate frigates; the Endymion was that on
which the left wing went on board, but I do not recollect
the name of the other. An agreement was entered into between
the two captains, I understood, to sail for fifty
guineas, they both being considered fast vessels; our destination
was Cork; they were to start together, and the
first there of course to be the winner.


We sailed with a favourable breeze, and got on most
delightfully, having, soon after sailing, parted from our
antagonist, and passing, if I recollect right, inside the
Isles of Scilly, we in a few days drew near our destined port.
But on the 19th, as we were pushing on with all our might,
having every stitch of sail set, a squall came on so suddenly,[37]
that, before she could be stripped of her superfluous clothing,
she was actually running bows under water, the sea
entering the bow-ports, and making its way along between
decks, like to wash every thing away before it. At this time
the log was hove, and we were going at the (I believe)
unparalleled rate of fifteen knots an hour. But unfortunately
for our captain, the vessel was completely driven out of her
course, and towards evening we entered the harbour of
Kinsale, thus losing the fifty guineas, although we were no
doubt the better sailer.


This was the first gale I had experienced, and I did not
relish it; but when we entered the harbour, where the
water was quite smooth, the sensation I felt was most
delightful, after having been buffeted most violently by
the sea without. The next day we landed, and were billeted
in Kinsale, and here I had the first view of Irishmen and
Irish manners. I need not attempt to describe them; for
could I, so many have done it before me, that the subject
is almost exhausted. In a day or two after landing, we
marched to Cork, where the right wing had been landed,
and with which we of course formed a junction.


We remained in Ireland from this time till the peace of
1802 was concluded, and were quartered successively in the
towns of Cork, Kilkenny, Clonmel, Fermoy, and Kinsale;
but as there was nothing which could interest a reader that
occurred to me during this period, I shall pass it over in
silence, save mentioning the following:—In the year 1800,
it is well known the utmost distress was experienced by the
poor of both countries, a scarcity, the effects of the wet
harvest of 1799, having grievously afflicted all the British
dominions. But in Ireland, the sufferings of the poor were
great, beyond the conception of an Englishman who has not[38]
witnessed them, and many hundreds of them, I believe,
actually perished of want.


But my tale relates more immediately to my own sufferings
and those of my comrades; for we had then but what
was termed a "black shilling a day," that is twelve pence
Irish, an English or white shilling, or Hog, going in that
country for thirteen pence; we had not then any beer
money either, but had solely this black shilling to subsist
on. Meat at this time was no less than 10d. per lb., of
which each man received half a pound; bread was 5d. per
lb., of which we also got half a pound. This half pound of
bread, and half pound of meat, and that not of the best, was
all we had to live on, and do our duty, which was not always
of the easiest description. The remainder of our shilling was
taken to furnish necessaries, washing, pipeclay, &c., for I
do not remember that we ever laid in any sort of vegetables
for the pot. Potatoes were out of the question, for they
were no less than three shillings a stone of fourteen
pounds.


Although we did not absolutely suffer want, the reader will
perceive that we were but sparely dieted; the consequence
was, innumerable robberies of potato fields, and gardens,
&c., in the neighbourhood of our quarters; and many were
the men that got punished for this crime, but it could not
be put a stop to, for hunger is not easily borne. Indeed,
on one occasion, I myself was seduced, by the persuasion of
my comrades and by the cravings of hunger, into the commission
of this crime. I remember well I was on what was
termed the Commissariat guard, a short distance from the
town of Fermoy, when my companions, thinking it a favourable
opportunity for procuring something to eat, prevailed
upon me to accompany them to a garden near the bridge,
into which we entered, and each of us returned loaded with[39]
a fine cabbage, and which afforded us an excellent meal after
our relief from guard. It is impossible to justify such an act,
but the reader will be convinced, I trust, that sheer hunger
alone urged me to the perpetration of this crime. Others, I
have no doubt, were equally ill off, who did not resort to such
disgraceful means of satisfying their hunger, but bore it
with patient resignation. I believe that such was the case,
and take shame to myself for yielding either to the calls of
nature or the solicitations of my companions, some others
of whom were not so scrupulous. During this distressing
season I sold a watch which had formerly been my father's,
and with which I felt extremely loath to part. I also received
a little money from home, all, or nearly all, of which
was expended in procuring food.


The hedges and fields, &c. in the vicinity, were ransacked
in all directions, for the purpose of procuring bramble-berries,
nettles, &c. &c.; in short, for any thing that was
eatable. Such was our situation during several months,
while under the command of Lieut.-Col. Skinner, who,
although an excellent officer, had little idea of disposing of
a soldier's pay to the best advantage; but latterly we were
commanded by Major Keating, who, making the comfort
of the soldiers under his command his continual study and
delight, soon adopted a system which secured to us plenty
in comparison of our former state. He left off the meat and
bread save occasionally, and procured for us plenty of oatmeal
and milk, by which means our wasted bodies began
shortly after to resume quite another appearance.


We were quartered at Lap's Island, in Cork, when the
news arrived of peace having been concluded; and as the
bulk of the regiment had volunteered from the militia for
five years, or during the war, measures were taken for discharging
all those who did not re-enlist either into their own[40]
or other regiments. My mind was fully made up to return
home; for although, as I said before, I never repented of
having entered the regular service, yet I knew that the
anxiety of my dear parents for my return was so great, that
I had settled it fully in my own mind to leave the army.


Another reason operated with me partly in forming this
resolution—I had persuaded myself that I ought to have
been promoted—for I judged myself fully capable of conducting
the duties of a non-commissioned officer, and I
flattered myself my conduct had been generally unexceptionable;
but I was disappointed, for the great numbers in
my company, who were judged both more deserving and
better qualified, and withal better-looking soldiers, put it
out of the question for me to look forward to promotion.


I was in this state when an officer and a party of the
Rifle corps arrived at Cork, to receive such of the men of
the different regiments then about to be discharged, as
chose to volunteer, for this novel, and, as some thought,
dangerous service. I cannot account for the impulse with
which I was urged on, from the moment I had seen one of
the men, to enter this corps. Something strange seemed
to push me on, contrary to the full determination to return
home, which had possessed me an hour before. I will not
attempt to account for it, but such was the fact. I immediately,
with some others of my regiment, gave in my name
as a volunteer for the Rifle corps, and was in consequence
in a day or two sworn into that corps, in which I have ever
considered it an honour to serve, and which I have reason
to thank a kind and overruling Providence I ever entered.


No news of course could be so afflictive to my dear
parents, as to hear of the last rash and irretrievable step
which I had taken. It had wellnigh broken their hearts,
for they fully calculated on my returning home, as I had[41]
written to that effect. Judge then of their surprise and sorrow,
when they learnt that I had entered, what was deemed
by some, a condemned corps, and that for life—and that the
West Indies would no doubt soon be my grave.


On my leaving the 56th, the officers of my company
expressed their regret that I should quit the regiment, and
told me, that although the mode hitherto pursued of keeping
all the best-looking men in the light company had kept
many from obtaining promotion, who otherwise would have
been made non-commissioned officers, yet that mode was no
longer to be adhered to, and that I might shortly expect
to be promoted into another company, if I would consent to
remain. I thanked them, and told them I had made up my
mind, on which they each gave me a certificate as to character,
&c., recommending me to the officers of my new
corps, and which were of service to me afterwards.


The sergeant who had been sent to receive us, at once
became my stanch friend, and employed me, as the party
was now become pretty strong, to act as a non-commissioned
officer. Every thing went on quite smoothly, and I felt
happy in my new corps, and in my new employment.


We marched soon after to Waterford, and thence to Passage,
and there embarked for the Isle of Wight, and without
encountering any remarkable event arrived at Cowes on
the 27th June, 1802; here we remained a day or two, and
then marched for the regiment in Sussex. We found them
at East Bourne, although Blatchington was their quarter,
but they had been sent out of it on account of the assizes
or election, I do not remember which.


We immediately commenced our light drill, in which I
took great delight; but most of all I liked the shooting at
the target. As recruits, we were first drilled at what is[42]
termed the horse, i. e. a machine to assist young riflemen
in taking aim. At this I pleased my commanding-officer so
much the first time I tried, that he ordered me to the front,
and told me to load, and fire at the target. I did, and made
a pretty good shot, hitting pretty near the bull's eye; on
which he made me load again and fire, and hitting that also,
he made me go on till I had fired ten rounds, all of which
hit the target, and two of which had struck the bull's eye.
The distance indeed was only fifty yards, but for a recruit,
that is, a person unaccustomed to rifle-shooting, he called it
a wonderful exhibition, and in consequence he gave me
sixpence out of his pocket, and ordered me home. I
thought the reward quite inadequate, so natural is it for us
to overrate our own deservings.


This officer (Major Wade) was one of the best shots
himself that I have almost ever seen. I have known him,
and a soldier of the name of Smeaton, hold the target for
each other at the distance of 150 yards, while the other
fired at it, so steady and so accurate was both their shooting.


I continued to maintain my character as a good shot,
which in a rifle corps is a great recommendation, and proceeded
in acquiring a knowledge of my other duties with
such steadiness as obtained the approbation of my officers.
We soon after marched to Chatham—and while there,
several non-commissioned officers being employed on the
recruiting service, I was employed in doing the duty of one,
having been appointed what is termed a "chosen man."


I must record the manner of my appointment. An acting-sergeant
was doing the duty of pay-sergeant of our
company, but he took it into his head to go all wrong,
spending the money intrusted to him for the payment of
the men. He of course was deprived of the situation; and on
this occasion it was, that the officer commanding the company[43]
came to me one day, and said to me, "Surtees, I
shall be forced to make you a chosen man." I thanked
him, but could not help reflecting on the strange mode of
expressing himself which he had adopted. The fact is, I
believe, without thinking about the opinion I must form of
the compliment he was paying me, he had been indeed
forced to it, for he had no one to pay the company besides;
and as I was not yet dismissed from the drill, it was an unprecedented
measure. But he need not have told the whole
truth on this occasion, for I should have been no worse a
non-commissioned officer, had he been more complimentary;
but he was a plain man, and not much given to compliment.


On our march hither, some of the men broke into the
plate chest of the officers' mess, while the baggage stopped
in Maidstone; one man was discovered, and tried for it,
and sentenced to receive 800 lashes, all of which he took
at one standing, and that without evincing much suffering;
this was the most I ever saw inflicted at one time.


We marched again from Chatham in September, and on
the 2d of October arrived at Thorncliffe. While here, my
parents interested Mr Beaumont, M.P. for my native county,
to solicit my discharge from the Honourable Colonel
Stewart, my then commanding-officer, they paying the regulated
sum to the government. The colonel sent for me,
and talked with me on the subject, and argued most forcibly
in favour of my remaining in the regiment, saying he
had intended to promote me the first vacancy; and that he
had no doubt whatever of seeing me one day an officer. I
own my views were not so sanguine; but his reasoning
prevailed, and I consented to remain. Soon after, an opportunity
offering, I was appointed corporal on the 24th of
the same month.


Here[44] again I had disappointed my beloved and tender
parents, for it was not without considerable trouble and difficulty
they obtained the interference of Mr Beaumont, and
now I had again thrown cold water on all their endeavours
to obtain my discharge. I fear I have much to answer for,
as respects my conduct towards them. May God forgive
me!


[45]


CHAPTER IV.


Made Pay-sergeant—Moral Reflections—Wreck of a Dutch East
Indiaman—Reduced Officers—War with France in 1803—Encampment
at Thorncliffe under the command of General Sir John Moore—Encampment
broke up, November, 1804—Embark for Germany,
October, 1805—Vicissitudes at Sea—Land at Cuxhaven—March to
Bremen—Outposts established—Retrograde movements, in consequence
of the defeat of the Allied Forces at Austerlitz—The Allied
Forces evacuate Germany—Re-embarkation of the troops—The
Rifle Corps, or 95th, land at Yarmouth.


Having given satisfaction as a corporal, I was shortly
after appointed acting-sergeant; and in that capacity also,
having pleased my officers, I was, on a vacancy occurring
on the 19th of February following, appointed sergeant, and
given the payment of a company. My head was almost
turned by such rapid promotion, and I began in earnest to
contemplate the possibility of my colonel's predictions being
one day verified. Kind Providence watched over me,
however, and kept me from being too much elated, and of
committing myself as I otherwise might have done. Indeed
I many times did commit things which, if strictly
searched into, would have brought censure upon me, and
lowered the high opinion that both myself and others entertained
of me; but nothing that openly violated the law by
which I was then governed (although many of God's laws
I daily transgressed) was done by me.


I was at this time, although careful to secure the good
opinion of my officers, little solicitous to please Him who
had alone lavished all this bounty upon me. Indeed I believe[46]
I was as ungodly at this time as I ever remember to
have been, and yet He caused me to prosper. Oh! how
I ought to feel shame and confusion of face at the recollection
of such abused goodness and mercy! May He pardon
me for Christ's sake!


A short while before my appointment as sergeant, a most
melancholy occurrence took place in the neighbourhood of
our cantonment. A large Dutch East Indiaman, outward
bound to Batavia, and full of troops, in passing down channel,
mistook, I understand, the light at Dungeness for one
on the French coast, and in consequence stood in towards
Dymchurch wall instead of keeping out to sea. As might
be expected, she was not long in striking on the wall, running
with her bow quite close under the road, and in an
instant, almost, went to pieces; and although numbers of
people were early at the spot, and some, I believe, at the
very moment she struck, they could render the unfortunate
sufferers no effectual aid, although only a few yards distant
from them. Out of about 800 persons on board, only seven
men were saved. Many poor fellows, I understand, attempted
to swim on shore, some on planks, and others without any
aid; but such was the tremendous swell, and the general
destruction of the ship so rapid, that only those seven before
mentioned succeeded; and they not without being all
more or less injured by pieces of the wreck. An admiral, I
understood, was on board, and perished; several beautiful
females were afterwards cast ashore among the dead, the
wives or daughters, no doubt, of some on board; they were
for the most part nearly naked, so that it is conjectured
they had been in bed.


As might be expected, the allurement to plunder so valuable
a wreck was not resisted by the natives of this part
of the coast, but Colonel Stewart humanely placed strong[47]
bodies of the regiment at different points where the wreck
had drifted, to secure as much of the property as he could
for the Dutch government, and also to collect and bring in
the numerous dead bodies which floated along the shore;
all of which he had decently interred in the churchyard at
Thorncliffe, and had the poor wounded survivors taken into
hospital, where every care was taken of them. Indeed nothing
could exceed the unremitting attention which he paid
both to the dead and living on this most melancholy occasion,
and for which he received, as he well merited, the
thanks of the Dutch government.


About this period we had several individuals serving in
the corps as soldiers, who had been officers in the army
during the late war, but who, from different causes, had
been reduced to the necessity of enlisting as private soldiers.
The first that I remember was a person of the name of
Conway Welch, who, I understood, had been an officer, and
I think the Adjutant of the Surrey Rangers. He got on to
the rank of Corporal, but, being excessively wild, I believe
he never attained a higher rank. I do not remember what
became of him.


The second was called Hughes; he was, I believe, when
he enlisted, actually in the receipt of half-pay as a lieutenant
of the line. He was a person of good conduct, and was
soon promoted to the rank of corporal, and the colonel took
him for his own private clerk, or secretary, as he was denominated;
but he did not remain long in this situation, for
he was shortly after called upon full pay of his rank in the
army. I believe his case was a singular one.


The third unfortunate individual was of the name of Tait.
He had been a captain in the Caithness Legion, but reduced
when the regiment was broken up at the peace. He
conducted himself extremely well for some time after he[48]
came into the regiment, and got on so far as to become
pay-sergeant of a company. But in this situation, having
considerable sums at his command, he became involved
through his dissipation, and being unable to extricate himself
from his difficulties, he adopted the fatal resolution of
committing suicide, and accordingly, when quartered at
Woodbridge, he one day retired to his room, loaded his
rifle, and blew out his brains.


The story of the fourth individual is a scarcely less melancholy
one. His name was M'Laughlan. I had known
him while serving in my late regiment, as he had been an
officer in the light company of the 35th regiment, and
stood next in the light battalion to the company to which
I belonged. He, shortly before our embarkation for Holland,
got involved, through a gambling transaction I heard,
and was in consequence obliged to dispose of his commission,
which, it would appear from this, he had originally purchased.
But interest was made in his behalf, and he was
permitted to accompany his regiment to Holland in the
capacity of a volunteer, and he accordingly assumed the firelock
and bayonet in place of his former weapon, the sword.
He was fortunate enough to obtain another commission
before the return of the troops to England, but how he became
deprived of that I have been unable to learn. But
about the latter end of 1803, he enlisted as a private in my
corps. His conduct here was far from good, and he consequently
never rose higher, for he was continually in scrapes
from his dissipated habits; and becoming tired of the restraint
laid upon him by the strict discipline which our excellent
commanding-officer enforced, he one day made an
attempt to desert and join the French at Boulogne, and was
picked up by one of our cruisers in endeavouring to cross
the channel in an open boat. He was brought back handcuffed,[49]
and lodged in the guard-house one day when I happened
to be sergeant commanding the guard.


As I looked on him, I could not help reflecting on the
strange vicissitudes which attend some men in their passage
through life. Here was a person whom I had known only
a few years before while encamped on Barham Downs, a gay
and handsome young officer, moving in the circle of men of
gallantry and honour; and now behold him a wretched culprit,
stretched on the wooden guard-bed, manacled like a
felon. In contrasting his miserable situation with my own
so much happier lot, what ample cause had I for gratitude
to that kind and indulgent Providence, which had preserved
me from those excesses, which entailed so much misery on
others. He was shortly after tried by a general court-martial,
and transported as a felon for life. I understand a sister
of his was at Thorncliffe at the time of his trial, &c., the
wife of a brevet lieutenant-colonel in the 4th regiment.
What must she have felt!


It will be recollected that, in 1803, war again broke out
between this country and France, as my preceding story had
intimated. The army was consequently augmented again,
and my corps, till now called the "Rifle Corps," was made
the 95th. This year a camp was formed on Thorncliffe,
under the command of that able general and excellent man
Sir John Moore. This was termed by some the "Vanguard
of England," for here it was that the then threatened
invasion of this country by Bonaparte must most likely have
taken place, it being immediately opposite to the grand
camp then forming at Boulogne. Daily rencontres took place
between our cruisers and his far-famed flotilla; and on one
occasion, the belief that he was sending forth his invincible
host was so great, that our camp was struck, the troops
turned out, and received each man his sixty rounds of ammunition;[50]
the waggons and carts were all put in immediate
requisition, and the inhabitants were flying in all directions.
But to our disappointment, I will not say whether disagreeable
or otherwise, it all ended in smoke; it happened to have
been some of his flotilla making a movement along the coast,
which had been set on by our cruisers and pretty roughly
handled.


We remained in this camp till the 24th of November, I
think, having occasionally before this period had our tents
blown from over our heads by the autumnal gales. The
next year a more formidable camp was formed on the same
ground, the force having been augmented by a second line,
composed of regiments of militia. This year also, like the
last, passed over without witnessing the long-threatened
invasion of Old England, although Bonaparte, in the pride
of his heart and the vanity of his mind, had begun to erect
a monument near Boulogne, to commemorate that glorious
achievement. My regiment, on the breaking up of the
camp, marched into Hythe Barracks, where we remained
till the month of April, 1805.


In the spring of this year another volunteering from the
militia into regiments of the line was ordered, on which
occasion I was selected by my commanding-officer, Lieut.-Colonel
Beckwith, to accompany Lieutenant Evans, of the
regiment, down to my native county, to receive such men
of the militia regiments there as chose to enter the 95th.
On this occasion we were very successful, having obtained
between seventy and eighty men from the different regiments
in the north. It was on this occasion that I had the
first opportunity, since I became a soldier, of visiting my
native village, and my greatly-distressed parents and family.
I need not describe the meeting that took place between
us, on my first seeing them—it will be better conceived[51]
than told;—suffice it to say, joy and sorrow were strangely
mingled together—joy to see me once more safe and sound—but
sorrow that the line of life I had adopted should so
soon, so very soon, call upon me to part from them again.
In fact, I could only remain with them three days, at the
end of which, I had orders to join my party at Morpeth.


With this respectable batch of volunteers we marched,
and joined the regiment at Canterbury, whither it had been
removed during our absence, and, on our arrival, received
the thanks of our commanding-officer for our exertions.
Here, and at this time, a second battalion to the 95th was
formed, the sergeant-majorship of which I was in hopes of
obtaining; but in this I was disappointed, for a sergeant,
who was both much older than me, and had much stronger
claims than I could pretend to, was selected for the situation;
and although he did not turn out so well afterwards
as was expected, yet these circumstances ought to have
satisfied me at the time that no injustice was done me by
bestowing it upon him. But such was my folly, and the
over-high opinion I entertained of my own merits, that I
could not quietly acquiesce in this most just arrangement;
and foolishly imagining myself ill-used, the chagrin of which
drove me to the adoption of one of the worst expedients
possible, I immediately took to drinking and to the neglect
of my proper duties, thinking, like an ass as I was, that I
should thus revenge myself for my supposed ill-usage, forgetting
that it was only on myself that this revenge could
ultimately fall. However, the same good Providence which
has mercifully and so continually watched over me, stepped
in to my aid in this my most dangerous situation; for one
day my captain, who had always been my friend, sent for
me, and urged upon me the folly and the baseness of my
present conduct, and the unhappy consequences to myself[52]
that were likely to result from persisting in a course so
absurd and blame-worthy. This, with my own reasoning
on the subject, brought me at length to a better disposition
of mind, and induced me once more to resume my duties
with cheerfulness and alacrity.


I have mentioned this circumstance, because I believe I
was nearer at this time to falling into my original nothingness,
than I ever have been, either before or since; and
I have no doubt that many an excellent non-commissioned
officer and soldier have been involved in the like error, who
have not been so fortunate as I was in escaping its consequences.


From Canterbury we marched to Brabourn Lees Barracks,
in the same county, where we remained till some
time in October, when we were called upon to embark for
Lower Germany. During our stay at Brabourn Lees, a
circumstance occurred which called forth an exhibition of
as great magnanimity, on the part of Colonel Beckwith, as
I almost ever remember to have witnessed: We had received
about 200 Irish volunteers, who were wild and ungovernable
in the extreme; a party of these, in strolling
about one day, had fallen in with Mrs Beckwith, with her
maid and child, taking a walk along the Ashford road. Not
knowing, I imagine, who the lady and her maid were, they
set on and assaulted them in the most violent and outrageous
manner, proceeding to such lengths as perhaps delicacy
forbids to mention. It was, I believe, discovered who
they were. Accordingly, the next day, the Colonel formed
the battalion into a square, and proceeded to relate the circumstance
to the regiment; "But," says he, "although I
know who the ruffians are, I will not proceed any farther
in the business, because it was my own wife that they attacked;
but, had it been the wife of the meanest soldier[53]
in the regiment, I solemnly declare I would have given
you every lash which a court-martial might have sentenced
you." Such a trait of generous forbearance is not often
met with; but by this, and similar instances of liberal feeling,
he completely gained the heart of every soldier in the
battalion, a thing not always attainable by very excellent
commanding-officers.


About the latter end of October, 1805, we marched to
Ramsgate, and there embarked, as before noticed, for Germany.
It was my lot, on this occasion, to be put on board
a small and ill-shaped collier brig, called the Jane of
Shields, but the master I have forgot. She was a most
miserable sailer, making on a wind almost as much lee as
head-way, and in every respect ill adapted for the transport
service. We had not been many days at sea before we lost
the fleet, and in our endeavours to find it again were at one
time on the coast of Jutland. All this time we had been
beating against a contrary wind; but while here, the wind
became favourable, and we appeared to have nothing to do
but to bear away for the mouth of the Elbe, which river it
was our destination to enter; but unfortunately, by some
mismanagement, we fell quite away to leeward of it, and
got entangled between the mainland and the Island of
Wangeroog, not far from the mouth of Jade River, instead
of the Elbe.


While in this uncomfortable situation, it came on to blow
a tremendous gale, which rendered our position not only
most unpleasant, but extremely perilous, for we were
embayed, and the wind blowing on a lee shore, and the vessel
became almost unmanageable, her bad sailing becoming
distressingly more apparent the more she was put on her
mettle. In the midst of the confusion attendant on such
circumstances, the master (with what intention I know not,[54]
whether to drown dull care, or to fortify him against his
exposure to the watery element) went down below, and
swallowed the best part of a bottle of brandy. In doing
which, his corner cupboard, with all its contents, came
rattling down about his ears. He would fain have had me
to pledge him, but I begged to be excused. The consequence
was, he became quite drunk at the time when all
his abilities as a seaman were likely to be called into operation;
but he probably saw things clearest after having his
eye wet.


My commanding-officer now became quite alarmed for
the safety of the troops, seeing the master had incapacitated
himself, as he conceived, for the management of the vessel;
and, after a consultation among our officers, an attempt was
made to deprive him of the command, and intrust it to the
mate, who had in this case, in order to save as many of the
troops as possible, determined on running the vessel high
and dry, as he termed it, on the sandy beach, near the Jade
River.


At this proposal, however, the master stormed and blasphemed
like a madman, swearing there was neither soldier
nor sailor on board the ship but himself. He went so far,
and became so outrageous, that our commanding-officer
talked of hanging him up at the yard-arm; but it being a
ticklish thing to take the command of a ship from the person
legally authorized to exercise it, the major did not enforce
the wishes of the officers. The poor mate sat down
on the companion and cried like a child, partly owing to the
abuse the captain gave him, and partly, I imagine, from the
hopelessness of our situation. The captain, in his refusal
to yield up the command, told the major he had been several
times wrecked, and had been, I know not how many
times, exposed for a considerable length of time in the[55]
water; and that he was not afraid to encounter it again.
This, however, was but poor consolation to landsmen, who
had not been accustomed to such duckings.


A desperate case requires a desperate remedy—so our
captain thought—for he instantly clapped on the vessel the
square mainsail, which every moment threatened to carry
away the mast, and in which case, nothing could have prevented
our destruction; however, Providence so ordered it,
that she bore it through the gale, and he, after putting her
on the outward tack, continued to stand from the land till
he imagined he had completely weathered Wangeroog; but
at midnight, when he ordered to put about the ship, had it
not been for the cabin-boy providentially seeing close to
leeward of us the light of Wangeroog, we should instantly
have been upon the rocks. This will show either what a
bad sailer the vessel was, or how far the master had miscalculated
the distance; for he imagined himself by this time
to be quite clear of all the land, and considerably out to sea.
He continued, after this providential escape, to stand
on the same tack, and just cleared the island; and in the
morning, the wind having somewhat abated, and shifted a
little in our favour, we were enabled, soon after, to lay our
course.


We arrived in the Elbe, and landed at Cuxhaven on the
18th of November, 1805, the day on which our fleet there was
celebrating the victory of Trafalgar—clouded indeed it was
by the death of the hero who fell while achieving it—yet
glorious to the nation to which that fleet belonged. We,
immediately after landing, marched for Dorum, a village
twelve or fourteen miles distant, and from thence by Osterholtz
and Bremer Lehe to the city of Bremen. On our arrival
there, (my battalion forming the advanced guard,) we
found the gates were shut against us; a Prussian garrison[56]
was in the town, the commandant of which seemingly did
not know how to act, whether to admit us as allies, or not,
the policy of his government at that time being so extremely
ambiguous. Colonel Beckwith, who commanded
the advance, was not however easily to be deterred from
executing his orders, and he hesitated not to tell them, that
if they did not choose to admit us peaceably, force should
be resorted to to gain an entrance. This had the desired
effect, for the gate was soon after thrown open, and we were
received by the authorities of the town, and by the inhabitants
in general, with the warmest expressions of friendship
and cordial attachment; the Prussian officers, all the while
looking on, apparently not over-well pleased with the conduct
of their hosts; they were soon afterwards, however,
withdrawn from the territory, and we then remained sole
occupiers of this part of the country.


Our army assembled in this city in considerable force,
when it becoming necessary to establish outposts in advance,
my battalion was sent out first to the town of
Delmenhorst, and subsequently a part of it to the city of
Oldenburg, and the remainder to the town of Wildishausen;
to this latter place two companies were detached, under the
command of Major Travers, and to which he appointed me
to act as sergeant-major. We did not remain long in this
situation, but were again recalled from Wildishausen to
Delmenhorst, and afterwards sent to join the other companies
at Oldenburg.


Here we staid some time, during which we experienced
the most unbounded hospitality and kindness from the
whole of the inhabitants, but more particularly from the
Duke. He actually did not know how sufficiently to express
his friendly disposition towards our officers in general,—his
kindness also extended to the soldiers,—for when we[57]
afterwards received an order to retrograde again to Delmenhorst,
he sent forward to the half-way house refreshments
of every description, for both officers and men; and
the night before we left this hospitable city, he gave a
splendid ball in honour of the officers of our corps, to which,
of course, every inhabitant of a suitable rank was invited.
Nay, I heard, and have no reason to doubt the correctness
of the report, that he wrote to the burgomaster of Bremen,
to which city we again retired, to endeavour, if possible,
to have us quartered in his immediate neighbourhood,
in the best part of the town, for that not only the officers,
but the soldiers of the corps, were perfect gentlemen; indeed,
the conduct of the battalion at this time, under its
kind and excellent commanding-officer, was such as to entitle
it to the highest praise. Our retreat on this occasion,
I understood, was rendered necessary, in consequence of the
defeat of the allied forces at Austerlitz, and of the fatal termination
by that sanguinary action of the campaign in that
part of Germany.


Although I am no prophet, I predicted at this period
what the result would be to the King of Prussia, whose
hesitating and equivocal conduct kept him aloof from taking
an active part, when his co-operation might have been of
the utmost advantage to the general cause. It required no
second sight to perceive, that when Bonaparte could clear
his hands of his present antagonists, he would not hesitate
for a moment to turn his arms against a monarch on whom
he could not cordially rely, and whose dominions offered
such a strong temptation to an ambitious and aspiring mind
like his.


We continued to occupy Bremen till towards the beginning
of February 1806, when the whole army gradually
drew down towards our place of embarkation, for the purpose[58]
of evacuating the country, our stay now having been
rendered useless by the unsuccessful and unfortunate turn
which the allied affairs had taken. My battalion covered
the retreat of the army; but as great numbers of the German
Legion, which formed part of the British force in this
country, were deserting and returning to their homes, we
were sent away into the interior to endeavour to intercept
such of them as might pass by the villages we occupied, and
restore them to the army. We took some, but not many;
and soon after we also retired, and went on board at Cuxhaven,
and again returned to England, landing at Yarmouth
on the 19th of the same month.


During the whole of my military career, I never witnessed
so cordial an attachment to the British name and character,
as was manifested during this service, by the good
people among whom we had been residing. Nothing was
too good for us—and nothing was left undone by them to
render us comfortable and happy. It is true they have their
vices like other people; but barring one or two peculiar to
continental nations, I believe them to be, generally speaking,
as moral as any people among whom it has been my
lot to sojourn. But, oh! with what shame and sorrow do
I look back on the part I acted at this period—how profligate
and abandoned was my conduct at the very time that
a kind and gracious Providence was showering its choicest
blessings upon me! but, alas, I paid no regard to the remonstrances
of conscience, which I endeavoured and succeeded
in drowning in debauchery and intemperance.


[59]


CHAPTER IV.*


Our Author made Quartermaster-Sergeant of the 2d battalion, which
he joins at Feversham, Kent—Expedition to Denmark—Embark at
Deal—Land at Vedbeck, Zealand—Partial Engagements—Siege of
Copenhagen—A Division under Sir Arthur Wellesley advance to
Kioge—Copenhagen capitulates—Amnesty between the Danish
Forces in the Island of Zealand, and the British—The British evacuate
Denmark—Embark at Copenhagen—Arrive in the Downs—Land
at Deal.


We landed, as I before stated, at Yarmouth, and proceeded
by way of Lowestoft to Woodbridge, in Suffolk, in
the barracks of which my battalion was quartered. Here
also was the 23d regiment, that which I had seen act so
nobly in Holland: and as it was determined by its commanding-officer
to give the regiment some idea of light
movements, I was selected for the purpose of instructing
their non-commissioned officers. But I did not long continue
to instruct them, for in the May following, an offer
was made me by Colonel Beckwith of the situation of sergeant-major
in the Cornwall Miners, a regiment of militia,
with the prospect, he told me, of shortly becoming adjutant.
This, however, after due consideration, I declined accepting—preferring
to remain in a regiment and service which I
liked so well, and in which I hoped one day to rise to something
higher than my present situation. I believe my
conduct on this occasion was approved, for not long after,
it was intimated to me, that the offer I had refused, had
been made to the quartermaster-sergeant of our second[60]
battalion, and that he had, after some hesitation, accepted
it, thus leaving his situation open for me. Accordingly, I
departed for the purpose of joining that battalion, and entering
on my new duties.


I joined it at Feversham, in Kent. My means increasing,
the sinfulness of my course of life was increased in
proportion. It is true, I generally performed my various military
duties to the satisfaction of my superiors; but could
not at all times please my present commanding-officer,
against whose wish and inclination I had been appointed to
my present situation; he naturally wishing to have a person
of his own selection. Soon after this, an expedition
being ordered for South America, of which three companies
of my present battalion were to form a part, I waited on
him, and requested him to permit me to accompany them
in the capacity of acting quartermaster. He said no; but
if I chose to resign my present situation, and go as a sergeant,
he would permit me. This I of course declined, as
it would have been paying a bad compliment indeed to my
benefactor, Colonel Beckwith, thus to give up for nothing
what he had been at pains to procure for me.


This, and some other little things which occurred about
the same time, proved to me that I was no favourite with
my new lieutenant-colonel, and that it behoved me to be
very guarded in my conduct. We were, after this, removed
to Brabourn Lees again, and remained there, without
any occurrence arising, till we were summoned to take part
in the expedition fitting out for Denmark.


We accordingly repaired to Deal, where we embarked on
the 26th of July, 1807, and shortly after sailed for our destination.
We arrived in the Sound about the 10th of August,
where the whole fleet was assembled; one of the
largest I had yet seen. On the 16th, every thing having[61]
been previously got ready, we landed at the village of Vedbeck,
in the island of Zealand, about ten or twelve miles
below Copenhagen. It was a most beautiful and glorious
sight to witness the debarkation of the first division, or
advanced guard, to which my battalion belonged. The most
perfect arrangements had been made by Sir Home Popham,
who superintended the landing of the troops; and nothing
could exceed the beauty and regularity in which the different
divisions of boats approached the shore, covered by
some small brigs and bombs, which had orders to clear the
beach by grape shot, of any enemy that might appear.
Some light artillery also landed with us, prepared for immediate
action, for it was not known but the Danes might
attempt to oppose our landing, they having rejected every
overture on the part of our commanders for the delivery of
their fleet.


After landing, mine and the first battalion of my regiment
were sent forward in the direction of Copenhagen;
and on this occasion, I for the first time saw the illustrious
General, who has since made the world resound with his exploits.
He commanded us, who formed the advance, and
directed our two battalions during the operations of the day.
But we met with no force of the enemy, save a small patrol
of cavalry, which passed in front of us, and then retired
towards the city; this showed that they were observing
our movements. We halted for the night at a village called,
I think, Lingbye, on the great road from Copenhagen
towards Elsineur. We rested on our arms all night, and
early in the morning moved forward on the Copenhagen
road, and about mid-day took up cantonments within a long
gun-shot of the city, and began to invest the place. All
was quiet till about three o'clock in the afternoon, when a
general cry of turn out, set the whole of our people in motion.[62]
A considerable body of the enemy were advancing
from the town, and by this time had attacked the advanced
picquets on our left, towards the sea-shore; but instant
succour being sent, they maintained their ground.


The force opposed to the enemy was but small, consisting
of two companies of the 4th regiment, four of the 23d,
and four of my battalion, with two light fieldpieces; in all
not more than 1000 men, while the Danes were near 3000.
Nevertheless, the moment the armies came in contact, they
instantly gave way, leaving a considerable number of killed
and wounded behind them, and retreated into the town.


On this occasion, I attached myself to my commanding-officer,
who, with the surgeon, and some others of the staff,
advanced with one of the guns on the great road, having
some of our companies on each flank. He gave me his glass
to take care of, with which I soon after busied myself in
watching the motions of the enemy. I discovered at a short
distance to our left and front, a considerable body of troops,
dressed in long red coats, which I knew could not be
British, for that description of dress had long been laid
aside by us; I accordingly began, pointing them out as an
excellent mark for the artillery, which was then with us;
but I had scarcely spoken, when an officer present, cried
out, after looking, did I wish the artillery to fire on our
own people? The colonel also made some severe and reproachful
remarks, telling me, if I would fight, to go and
take a rifle. I said nothing; but he had scarcely finished
his harangue, when a round shot came directly from this
body of supposed British troops, which nigh carried away
one of the legs of the first officer who spoke.


The enemy were soon repulsed, and the troops retired
again to their former cantonments. After their troops
retreated, a body of their gun-boats advanced against some[63]
of our small craft which happened to be rather close in
shore, but their attack occasioned little injury, the distance
being considerable.


The next morning the enemy opened a heavy and rather
destructive fire of artillery upon our outposts, by which
we lost an officer of artillery and several men; their fire
was chiefly directed against what was called the windmill
battery, which was our farthest advance at this time.


On the 19th, my battalion was moved farther to the
right, and nearer the town; there was constant firing
between the advanced posts of the two armies, and this
continued for several days, during which the investment of
the city was proceeding with, and batteries, &c. marked out
for the purpose of bombarding it. All kinds of ordnance
stores were at the same time disembarked, and sent off to
the army with the utmost dispatch. In short, nothing
could exceed the vigour with which the siege was now
prosecuted, after the final rejection of pacific overtures by
the Danish general.


On the 24th, we were ordered under arms at two o'clock
in the morning, and immediately advanced, driving in the
enemy's outposts, with the view of carrying our works
nearer the town. In this movement we experienced considerable
opposition and suffered some loss, from their guns
on the town walls, and from musketry from the windows.


We this day established two strong and well advanced
batteries, and at night set fire to a windmill in their possession,
which obstructed our view of some of their works.
During the whole of the 25th, there was a constant fire both
of artillery and fire-arms, by which one of the light battalions
of the German Legion suffered rather severely. My
battalion relieved them at the outposts a little before dark,[64]
and was fortunate enough not to lose a man, where they
had lost considerable numbers.


On the 26th, a corps or division of the army was assembled,
and placed under the immediate orders of Sir Arthur
Wellesley. It consisted of the following regiments, viz.
43d, 52d, 92d, 95th, and 6th Battalion King's German
Legion, with six squadrons of German cavalry, and some
artillery, and was destined to advance against a body of the
enemy composed principally of militia, which had been for
some time past collecting in the neighbourhood of Kioge.


At three o'clock P.M., we started from the neighbourhood
of Copenhagen, the troops making their way through
the country to the left of the great road to Roskild. I had
charge of the baggage, which was carried on light German
waggons, the bodies of which are formed chiefly of wicker-work,
and are so light and easy of draught that the natives
travel in them in the same manner nearly of our coaches—they
going sometimes at a considerable rate.


I found it impracticable to continue in the same direction
the troops had gone, for they presently left all traces of a
road, and struck right across the country—and as I knew
I should be expected to have the baggage with them that
night if possible, I determined to run all hazards, and proceed
along the great high-road in hopes of afterwards being
enabled to find them out—accordingly I moved forward,
and presently passed the outposts of the German cavalry
stationed in the direction of Roskild; the men, I doubt
not, wondering at my temerity in pushing on with a few
baggage waggons, where they were all on the alert with
swords drawn, and with carbines and pistols loaded. I own
it was a hazardous undertaking, for a very small party of
the enemy would easily have captured both me and my
baggage; but I knew my commanding-officer to be such a[65]
person as to pay little attention to excuses of any kind when
he wished a thing to be done, and withal he loved his comforts,
and would not have been easily pacified had he been
deprived of them. Fortunately, after advancing for some
miles beyond the outposts of our army before mentioned,
I fell in with a road branching off towards the left, apparently
in the very direction the troops had taken.


Till I reached this point, I had advanced with considerable
caution, and slowly; determined, if any enemy should
appear in front, to endeavour to effect a retreat. But now,
having left the great road, and taken that which I judged would
bring me to the neighbourhood of those I was seeking, I
accordingly ordered all my guards to mount, and set off at a
brisk trot, keeping a good look-out to my right flank, for
fear of surprise, and fortunately fell in with the division
at the very moment it was entering the road by which I
had come. I received great credit for my generalship, and
was complimented by the officers of my corps, they being
the only people in the division, I believe, who had the
comfort of their baggage that night. The name of the village
where we halted is Caughstrup.


The next day we continued to advance in the direction
of Kioge, and in the afternoon we reached a village which
I forget the name of, and where evident traces appeared of
the enemy having shortly left it; indeed, we found two or
three stragglers in the village, who were of course made
prisoners. We halted outside the village for the night.


A short while before we reached this village, I saw a
body of troops dressed in red, marching on our right flank,
at right angles to the road by which we were advancing,
and which I instantly concluded must be a part of the
enemy's force, as we had no troops in that direction. But
remembering the rebuke I received on the 17th for interfering[66]
with concerns that did not belong to me, I shut my
mouth in silence, and did not, I believe, mention the
matter. It is evident it was a part of the enemy's force, for
the General's information led him to take that very same
direction the next day; and that being towards Roskild,
we set out and reached that city in the afternoon, but found
the enemy had again given us the slip, and doubled back to
nearly the same place from whence we had started.


The next morning about three o'clock we left Roskild,
and took the road for Kioge, near which it was now ascertained
the enemy had come to a resolution to make a
stand. I forgot to mention that previous to this our force
had been divided and formed into two brigades; the 52d,
92d, our 1st battalion, and some cavalry and artillery,
remaining under the command of Sir Arthur; while the
43d, the 6th German Legion, and our five companies, with
the remainder of the cavalry, were put under the command
of Baron Linsengen, one of the generals of the German
Legion. Sir Arthur's people had not been with us for a
day or two back, but where I do not exactly know. But
this morning it was arranged that his brigade was to
march directly upon Kioge and attack it in front, while we
fetched a circuit behind, and came upon a part of their
force stationed in a forest or wood behind the town—and
thus cut off their retreat. But the poor creatures were
unable to stand above a round or two, and almost immediately
broke and fled in all directions.


As we approached the wood we were destined to attack,
the appearance was certainly rather formidable; for from
the immense cloud of dust they raised in performing their
movements, we calculated on meeting with a considerable
body of troops; and indeed, just as we approached
the wood, our cavalry laid hold of an officer of their horse,[67]
dressed partly in uniform and partly as a civilian. From
him we obtained information that they had in the field
12,000 men; 5000 of which were armed with pikes, 1000
cavalry, and the remainder consisted of artillery and infantry.
He must, I think, have overrated their numbers,
or surely they might have made some sort of a stand against
5500 men, the strength of our division.


On Sir Arthur attacking them in the town of Kioge,
they stood, as before said, only for a round or two, and fled,
many of them coming in contact afterwards with our brigade;
but from the extent of (and intricate roads through)
the wood, very few of them were made prisoners; till towards
evening, when a company of my battalion, with some
of the German cavalry, overtook a considerable body in the
village of Herfolge, apparently the rearguard of the enemy.
In this village they made a stand, getting into the churchyard,
which afforded an excellent position, it being considerably
higher than any other part of the village. Here
also they soon began to waver, and after a few shots from
our people, they all laid down their arms and became prisoners
of war. Their numbers were 1550 men, with
56 officers, and Major-General Oxholm, the second in command
of this part of the Danish army. A considerable
quantity of artillery, small arms, baggage, and provisions,
&c., with two stands of colours, fell into the hands of the
captors on this occasion. These poor creatures were instantly
sent off as prisoners, and put on board our ships at
Copenhagen; many of them apparently quite glad that they
had done with fighting. Great numbers of them had nothing
better by way of shoeing than wooden clogs—a very inconvenient
kind I should imagine for a rapid retreat.


The loss of the British during this day's operations was,
as might be expected, quite trifling. I had this day followed[68]
the ill-natured advice of my commanding-officer on a former
occasion, and had taken a rifle, but had little opportunity
of using it, not having fired more than eight or ten shots.
My battalion halted in the village of Herfolge for the
night, and the next morning moved forward towards the
town of Kingsted, that being the direction in which the
broken fragments of the Danish army had retired.


Our two battalions had been employed all the day of the
29th, after the first onset, in scouring the woods from Kioge
to Herfolge. We continued this service on the 30th also, and
took numbers of poor creatures who had been engaged in
yesterday's operations, but who had not yet been able totally
to divest themselves of their military habiliments, although
apparently anxious to do so. We reached Kingsted on the
31st, and finding that the only regular part of the late army
had retired into one of the islands in the Great Belt, and
that the militia portion had totally disbanded itself, we
halted here till the fall of Copenhagen, which took place on
the 7th of September. But to prevent surprise from any
lurking parties of the enemy, which might still have kept
together, and to deprive them of the means of injuring us,
strong detachments were sent out to scour the country,
and to bring in all the military arms they could discover.
A party of this description, consisting of 100 cavalry, and
100 of my battalion mounted on light waggons, traversed
the country for a considerable distance, and returned after
having discovered and taken possession of ten pieces of
ordnance of small calibre, and forty rifles belonging to the
Kallundburg rifle company, with several muskets. They also
gained correct information respecting the regular troops
that had been lately opposed to us, and found they had retired
into the islands of Falstar and Meon.


On the capitulation of Copenhagen, terms of amity and[69]
peace were entered into between the Danish forces in the
island of Zealand and the British; but these did not extend
to the islands before mentioned, nor to the other parts
of his Danish Majesty's dominions; consequently, we still
remained at war with such of his forces as were not included
in the capitulation; and he might at any time have
collected an army, had he been able, and attacked us without
any infringement of those terms. It behoved our generals,
therefore, to watch against any attempt of this nature; and
accordingly strong outposts were established all along the
Belt, composed principally of the men of our two battalions.
The 1st battalion occupied Kallundburg, Slagelse, Korsoer,
and Skielskiore; whilst the following towns and ports were
occupied by my battalion, viz. Mestyed, Lundbye, Wordingburg
and Prestoe; thus forming a complete chain of
posts around the west and south coasts of the island. We
remained so posted till the 15th of October, by which time
the greater part of the naval stores taken in the dockyard
having been taken on board, and the period fast approaching
for our evacuation of the country, we began to retire
towards Copenhagen, which we reached on the 17th, and
immediately embarked on board the Princess Caroline, a
Danish seventy-four which had been surrendered with the
others of that fleet, and which are mentioned below.[1]


We remained in the roads till the 20th, when the fleet[70]
dropped down towards the Sound; and on the 21st the whole
passed the Castle of Elsineur, with a favourable and pleasant
breeze, the British ensign waving proudly from the lofty
masts of their late gallant fleet; it must have been an extremely
galling sight for them (the Danes) to witness, and
I dare say they did not pray for many benedictions on our
heads; I pitied them from the bottom of my heart. On
taking leave of this country, I could not help remarking on
the great similarity between its inhabitants and the Germans
about Bremen—kind-hearted, hospitable, and inoffensive
in the highest degree; and although suffering at that
time so severely from the policy of our country, they were
high in our praises as individuals and as a nation. I have
great cause to speak well of those innocent and worthy
people, for I have seldom experienced more kindness and
attention than was shown me by them whenever circumstances
rendered such kindness and attention suitable, particularly
at Nestyde, where I met a young man who had
formerly been in the West Indies, where he had learnt to
speak a little English, (for of Danish I could not understand
[71]a word.) He introduced me to one worthy man, who
had been an officer, and fought in the famous action of Kioge
above narrated. Poor fellow, he felt heartily ashamed of the
sorry attempt they had made to act the part of an army,
and I daresay would gladly have blotted from his memory
for ever the recollection of the ridiculous part they had
acted. I was not aware of this circumstance at first, and
when it was brought upon the tapis in the course of conversation,
(my young friend being interpreter,) I unluckily
said, that "any man armed with a bludgeon only, could
easily beat three such soldiers."


I felt quite ashamed of myself afterwards, when I discovered
that he, poor man, had made one in that memorable
action; but he took it all in good part, apparently conscious
of the justness of my remark. Indeed, I was partly led on to
use such expressions by the young fellow condemning so
bitterly their conduct, and which I afterwards would have
given something to have unsaid. He, however, bore no
resentment, and kindly took me home and introduced me
to his wife, and requested me to salute her with a kiss. I
hesitated, thinking that I could not have understood him
right, and feeling awkward in such a situation; but my
young friend assured me it was the custom there to do so,
on which I of course complied. They are, in my opinion, an
extremely moral race of people, no vices that I know of
being practised by them, save occasionally a little drunkenness
by some few individuals. I heartily wish them well.


We sailed, as I said before, on the 21st of October, and
had fine weather till we arrived in Yarmouth Roads. We
passed one Sunday on our voyage home, at a certain hour
of which our pious naval commander (Lord Gambier)
made signal for the whole fleet to lay to, and have divine
service, that is, in such ships as there were chaplains on[72]
board of. This caused the irreligious and profligate part of
our people on board the Princess Caroline to blaspheme
and storm at a terrible rate, for being so long detained when
the wind was so fair.


It happened, when we arrived in the Roads at Yarmouth,
or near there, I think it was on the Galloper Sand, that a
tremendous gale began to blow, which baffled all exertions
to withstand it. We cast out the anchors, but without
effect, for we ran away with them both, and in the endeavour
to vere out cable, or rather by the rapidity with which
it was dragged out of the ship by the force of the wind, our
bits caught fire, which with considerable difficulty were got
extinguished after great exertions. During the gale, I
understand a sailor was blown off the foreyard; and nearly
at the same moment a woman, one of our corporals' wives,
fell down the hatches into the hold, and broke her back, of
which, indeed, she afterwards recovered, but never after regained
her upright posture.


Those scoffing gentlemen before mentioned, attributed
the whole of our misfortunes to the delay occasioned by the
divine service before adverted to, and were not sparing of
invective against the individual who caused its performance,
forgetful, it would seem, that He, whom that commander
invoked on that day, holds the winds in His hand, and can
at pleasure let them loose upon an ungodly fleet, whether
for correction or judgment, at what time, and in what manner,
best pleases him. I doubt not the excellent commander
alluded to has been a blessing to many. May he long continue
to ornament the exalted station he fills! We weighed
again after the storm abated, and proceeded round to the
Downs, and the next day, the 16th of November, landed
at Deal, and from thence marched to our old quarters at
Hythe Barracks.


FOOTNOTE:




[1]

List of Ships and Vessels captured at Copenhagen, 7th September, 1807.




Guns.


Christian the Seventh,
             
             
98


Neptune,84


Waldemer,84


Princess Sophia Fredrica,84


Justice,74


Heir Apparent Frederick,74


Crown Prince Frederick,74


Frien,74


Oden,74


Three Crowns,74


Shield,74


Crown Princess Maria,74


Denmark,74


Norway,74


Princess Caroline,74


Conqueror,64


Norge,74


Dalmakin,64


Pirle,44


Wory Wife,44


Liberty,44


Iris,44


Rotar,44


Denry,44


Mayed,36


Triton,28


Fredrington,28


Kline Belt,28


St Thomas,22


Tylto,24


Elbe,20


Eydeman,20


Gluckstadt,20


Sarp,18


Glowman,18


Nid Elvin,18


Dolphin,18


Marcur,18


Cousier,14


Flying Fish,14


---


Total,40







Together with eleven gun boats, with two guns each in the bow, and
fourteen do with one gun in the bow and one astern.









[73]


CHAPTER V.


Our Author marries—The Battalion to which he belongs ordered to
join the Expedition fitting out for Corunna—Movements of the
Army in Spain—Return to England.


Some little time after our return from the Baltic, I obtained
a short leave of absence, for the purpose of visiting
my parents, and the other members of my family; and,
during my stay in my native village, contracted a marriage
with a young woman whom I had known from my boyhood,
she having been one of my earliest schoolfellows. I
cannot say that I enjoyed in the marriage state that happiness
which I expected from it, partly owing to the frequent
and long separations which my calling rendered unavoidable,
and partly from other causes which have no connexion with
my narrative. I believe, during the eight years which my
wife lived after our union, I spent more than six of these
in absence from her.


At the expiration of my leave, we set off to join the regiment,
which still remained at Hythe, where we remained
till the beginning of September following, when my battalion
having again been ordered for foreign service in the
expedition fitting out for Corunna, it became indispensable
that my poor wife should return to Northumberland, and[74]
remain under the protection of her parents, till my return,
should it please God to spare me. This, no doubt, was a
severe trial to us both, but particularly to her, who had such
a journey to undertake, alone and unprotected, and she at
the time far advanced in pregnancy; but, however distressing,
it must be undertaken, and I unfortunately could not
be spared from the regiment, for our orders were to proceed
immediately to Ramsgate, for embarkation.


We parted, after I had accompanied her as far as I was
able, and seeing her safely stowed in the coach. It may be
supposed that a new-married pair, under such circumstances,
would part with heavy and afflicted hearts.


My battalion embarked at Ramsgate on the 10th of September.
On this occasion, I was very fortunate in getting
on board an excellent transport, called the Nautilus, of
Shields, commanded by Captain Watson (my wife's maiden
name), and the steward, a native of the Hermitage, a place
within four miles of my home. Of course, we were mutually
glad to meet each other, and often talked over old
Northumbrian stories, which recalled delightful recollections
of our younger years. The fleet in which we sailed rendezvoused
at Falmouth, whence we took our departure,
and arrived at Corunna on the 26th of October.


On our passage, when we made Cape Ortegal, a pilot-boat
came off, in which were the first Spaniards I remember
to have seen; certainly, they did not prepossess me
greatly in favour of their countrymen, but they are now so
well known in England, that a description of those I here
saw, would be only to repeat what has been so often and so
much better told by others. We landed at Corunna, as
before said, on the 26th, and a day or two after, proceeded
up the country, halting for the first night at Betanzos. Our
force consisted of cavalry, infantry, and artillery, in all,[75]
about 10,000 men, and was commanded by General Sir
David Baird, and intended to co-operate, or form a junction,
with that under Sir John Moore, then in Portugal, and
who was then advancing into Spain.


My battalion, and some companies of the first battalion
of my regiment, formed the advanced guard, a situation
which I consider the most enviable of any in the army—for
here all is untried, and, as it were, unbroken ground; every
thing is fresh, and although attended sometimes with a little
more danger of being cut off while separated from the main
body, yet possessing so many countervailing advantages,
that I hesitate not to say it is the most desirable post of
any in an army.


At Betanzos, we began to experience the great defectiveness
of our commissariat department, at this period of our
history; for the gentleman sent forward to provide our two
battalions with food, was so utterly unacquainted with his
business, that he was actually afraid to make an attempt to
issue provisions. Although bread had been baked by order of
the Spanish authorities, he not understanding, as he said,
the Spanish weights and measures, durst not issue any thing
without his own, which were behind; but it was evident
the troops could not remain without provisions. We were
here, as in most of the towns we afterwards passed through,
lodged in convents, the officers generally either being quartered
on the inhabitants of the town, or lodged by the
monks in their cells. On these occasions the men occupied
only the corridors, into which straw was generally put by
the authorities of the place, the men lying as close as pigs
in a sty, which indeed was necessary to keep each other
warm; but these lodgings were not to be complained of, as
clean straw, and shelter overhead in that country, are no
contemptible quarters.


We[76] moved forward by fair and easy stages, by way of
Lugo, Villa Franca, Cacabelos, and Astorga; this latter
place we reached on the 19th November, but during the
march, we had experienced considerable difficulty in obtaining
supplies both of provisions and the means of transport.
This is a considerable town, containing probably
about 5000 inhabitants. Both it and Lugo are surrounded
by old Moorish walls, which may formerly have been considered
strong, but which, according to the present mode
of warfare, would offer but a feeble resistance to a besieging
army. It contains a number of convents, both in the town
and suburbs, and, of course, a proportionate number of idle
monks, &c. Here, as in many towns in Spain, they have a
curious mode of keeping out of their houses unwelcome
visiters; for the doors being all made remarkably strong,
and kept constantly shut, you cannot enter till the inmates
have first reconnoitred you through an aperture above the
door, made for the purpose; and it is not till they are satisfied
who you are, and with your business, that they will
open the door, which they generally do by a cord communicating
with the latch from their peep-hole above.


Here we were pretty plentifully supplied with provisions,
and rested for some days, my battalion having been pushed
forward to a village called Zalada, about a league in front of
the town. After having been refreshed by a few days'
rest, my battalion was again pushed forward, and occupied
the town of Labeneza, about four leagues in front of Astorga,
while the main body of the army assembled in and
around that town; but we had not remained more than a
few days in Labeneza, before a report arrived of the enemy
being in our front, and advancing in force; and we were
consequently recalled to Zalada, in order to form a junction
with our main body. Not long after this, about the latter[77]
end of November, orders were received from Sir John Moore,
for our division to retreat and fall back upon Corunna.
This measure, I understand, was rendered necessary, in
consequence of the Spanish armies having been completely
beaten and dispersed, so that nothing remained to oppose an
overwhelming French force, which it was ascertained had
entered Spain, but the few British troops comprising the
armies under Sir John Moore, and ours.


We accordingly set to the right-about, and fell back as
far as Cacabelos, the main body occupying Villa Franca and
its neighbourhood. This movement was not by any means
liked by any of us; for, independent of its being so uncongenial
to the spirit of Britons to turn their backs upon an
enemy, we felt disappointed at what we saw and heard of
the celebrated Spanish patriots. We had been given to understand
that the whole nation was up in arms against the
French, and that we should have been received, on entering
their country, as liberators, and treated as brethren, but in
both these points we were miserably disappointed; for, instead
of a hearty welcome on our arrival, we could with
great difficulty obtain leave to land, and still more to obtain
the necessary supplies of carriages and provisions to enable
us to come forward; and with regard to the patriotism of
the people, whatever might have been their good-will to act
in defence of their beloved country and Ferdinand, they
appeared as little likely as any people I had ever seen, to
effect any thing against such an enemy as the French. In
fact, those of them who formed their armies, at least of
those straggling parties we so often met, could be called
nothing better than mere rabble—no organization, no subordination,
but every one evidently pursued that plan which
seemed right in his own eyes.


While we remained at Cacabelos, (a place famous for[78]
good wine,) many were the schemes adopted by some of
our bibbers, to obtain a sufficient quantum of this excellent
beverage. I understand they occasionally borrowed each
other's clothes; that is, a 43d man would borrow a rifleman's
green jacket, and vice versa, and go and steal, or in
some other illegal mode obtain, a camp-kettle full or two;
and when the owner came to point out the person who had
robbed him, of course he could not be found.


We had not remained above a day or two in our new
quarters, before an express arrived from Sir John Moore,
with orders for us to advance again immediately; and
which, notwithstanding we had little or no prospect of assistance
and co-operation from the Patriots, was cheerfully
complied with. We retraced our former steps, passing
through Astorga and Labeneza, and reached Benevente on
the 15th December.


Our cavalry, consisting of the 7th, 10th, and 15th hussars,
under Lord Paget, had by this time come up from Corunna,
and had been pushed forward to join Sir John Moore's
force; they fell in with a party of the French cavalry at the
town of Rueda, not far from Tordesillas, and of which they
either killed, or took prisoners, nearly the whole; in fact,
through the whole of this service, nothing could exceed
the gallantry and intrepid conduct of our cavalry under
his lordship. At this town, as well as at Astorga and
Villa Franca, depots of provisions began to be formed soon
after our arrival.


On the 17th December, we again advanced from Benevente,
in order to form a junction with Sir John Moore's
army, and passing through Valderas, Majorga, and Sahagun,
we reached the convent of Trianon, about a league in
front of the latter place. On the 20th, here the two forces
were united, and a fresh distribution into brigades took[79]
place. Ours, under Brigadier-general Crawford, was termed
the Light Brigade, and consisted of the 1st battalion 43d,
2d battalion 52d, and the 2d battalion of my regiment.


The whole army was assembled in this neighbourhood,
and consisted of about 26,000 men, the whole now under
the command of Sir John Moore. Previous to our arrival
at Sahagun, Lord Paget, with a part of the 10th and 15th
hussars, discovered that a considerable body of the enemy's
cavalry occupied that town. He therefore detached the 10th
by a circuitous road, while he with the 15th approached it
by the more direct one. They were, however, discovered
by the French before reaching the town, which gave the
enemy time to turn out and form to receive the attack.
His lordship, when a favourable opportunity offered,
charged the French, who were greatly superior in numbers,
and completely overthrew them, taking two colonels, eleven
other officers, and about 150 men.


On the evening of the 23d, the whole army was put in
motion, with an intention, it was said, of attacking Marshal
Soult, who, with a corps of about 16 or 18,000 men, was
posted behind the River Carrion, his head-quarters being at
Saldanha. The Spanish General Romana, was to take a
part in this movement; his small and sadly inefficient force
had approached the left of our army, or rather we had
drawn towards his position, and he was, I believe, perfectly
willing to lend all the assistance in his power, in the contemplated
attack; but our General, I fancy, did not calculate
upon any material help, from a force so greatly out of
order as his was said to be. Soon after dark, the troops
fell in; and as it was understood an attack was going to be
made on the enemy, every pulse beat high, in expectation
of soon congratulating each other on a victory. All was
life and animation; and the necessary preparations, by the[80]
light of our blazing fires, for such an event as a battle, after
the many long and harassing marches we had had, gave an
interesting appearance to the scene.


When all was ready, the troops moved forward. It was
a cold and bitter night, and there were some small brooks
on the road. An officer of my battalion, who was not very
well, when he came to one of those, instead of marching
straight through, as it appears had been ordered, went a
little way round by the bridge, although not off the road.
A certain general officer, who happened to be there at the
time, observed it, and getting into a great rage at the officer
leaving his section, made him turn back, and march
through and through repeatedly, by way of punishment.
Such a mode of treating an officer, certainly appeared rather
harsh; but this general piqued himself on his being able to
make his brigade better marchers than any other troops in
the army; and in this he certainly succeeded, although it
was not without frequent exhibitions, such as the above.
Our people had not gone far, however, till they were countermanded,
and returned back to our convent. I rather
think the main body of the army had not moved out of
their cantonments; but ours being the advanced brigade, it
was necessary we should move before the others.


It appears Sir John Moore, just before he intended to
set out, had received information, not only of Soult having
been greatly reinforced, but that several strong corps of the
French army were marching directly upon us, by which,
should he delay only a few days, we should be completely
surrounded, and cut off from a retreat. This was most distressing
information, for never was an army more eager to
come in contact with the enemy than ours was at this
moment, and never was there a fairer prospect of success,
had things remained as they were; but now, instead of[81]
honour and glory being acquired, by showing the French
what British troops could do in the field, it was evident
nothing remained but to commence a retrograde movement,
the worst and most unpleasant, in a British soldier's view, of
any other.


Winter had now completely set in; the face of the country
being covered with deep snow, the weather was unusually
severe. Our prospect, therefore, was by no means a
pleasant one. To commence a retreat in front of a greatly
superior force, and with the probability that other French
armies might be before us, and intercept our retreat upon
the sea, which was distant from us nearly 250 miles, with
the country in our rear being already exhausted of every
thing that could contribute to our support, and with such
excessively bad weather to perform the retreat in, rendered
it, I may say, as unpleasant a situation as troops could well
be placed in. Added to which, our commissariat was by no
means so efficient in those days as they have latterly become;
and our troops in general being young, and unaccustomed
to privation, it was but too obvious, that should the
retreat continue long, many would be the disasters attending
it. On Christmas day, our brigade, as the rear of the
infantry, commenced its uncomfortable retreat, and continued
marching till late at night, when we reached a convent
near Majorga. The next day, although we started
early, we only reached the village of St Miguel about midnight.


Here I had considerable difficulty with the baggage. I
had had charge of it all day, my guard being composed of
officers' servants, &c., who, the moment they got into the
village, set off to their masters, and left me alone with the
mules, the troops having, by the time I got in, all lain down
to sleep. Several of the muleteers had been pressed into the[82]
service against their wills, and of course would have made
their escape whenever an opportunity offered. I was therefore
compelled to drive them all into the churchyard, and
watch them myself, till luckily, after waiting in this situation
a considerable time, without daring to go to sleep after
the fatigues of such a day, some men happened to wander
in that direction in search of meat, by whom I sent to our
quartermaster to request he would send a guard, which he
did soon after, and I had the happiness to be allowed to
throw myself down and take some rest.


This day Lord Paget had another brush with the French
cavalry, who, being apprized of our retreat, had advanced to
Majorga. He attacked them with that gallantry which
shone so conspicuously in the cavalry during the whole of
this service, and completely overthrew them, killing and
wounding many, and taking a number prisoners; in this
affair the 10th hussars were engaged, and behaved nobly.
The next day we reached Castro Gonzales, and Castro
Pipa. At the latter village, my battalion halted for the
night and the next day. These two villages command the
passage over the river Eslar, they being about equidistant
from the bridge, and something more than a mile apart on
high ground over the river, which runs about a league in
front of Benevente. Here we were obliged to remain during
the time mentioned, in order that the heavy divisions
of the army might get sufficiently forward before we moved.


I had still the charge of the baggage, and not knowing
where my battalion was to be quartered for the night, I
had crossed the Eslar to the Benevente side, till I learnt long
after dark that Castro Pipa was its quarters. I consequently
turned back and recrossed the river, and just as I reached the
end of the bridge, I heard a shot immediately in my front.
The 43d regiment guarded the bridge. It turned out to be
a patrol of the enemy's cavalry who had come close to the[83]
top of the slope leading down to the bridge, and where a
double sentry of the 43d was posted. By some accident
these two men were not loaded; the French dragoons were
consequently permitted to come close up to them without
their being able to give any alarm. One of them, however,
run his bayonet into one of the Frenchmen's horses, and
retreated, but the other was not only cut down with the
sabre, but had a pistol fired at him, which was the report
I had just heard. I saw the wounded man, who was severely
hurt, but whether he survived or not I know not.


When I reached Castro Pipa, my commanding-officer
would scarcely credit the report I gave him, conceiving it
impossible the French could be such near neighbours. I
was a good deal chagrined at his suspecting my veracity,
but he had never been what I may call a friendly commanding-officer
to me, as the story of the rifle at Copenhagen
will prove; indeed, as I had been put into the situation
I held contrary to his wish, it was hardly to be
expected that he would show himself very friendly. During
the night, however, our quarters were beat up, not indeed
by the enemy, but by our brigadier, who was not sparing
of his censure for our want of alertness in turning out.
Indeed, we neither had so good a look-out as we ought to
have kept, nor did we get under arms with that promptitude
which was desirable, and from the cause before assigned;
that is, that our commandant did not believe the enemy
was so near.


I own I was not sorry that the General paid us such a
visit, as it not only put us more upon our guard, a thing so
indispensably necessary in the presence of an enemy, but it
gave me some satisfaction for the dishonour put upon me
by disbelieving my information.


The enemy did not disturb us during the remainder of[84]
the night, and next morning the brigade was assembled on
the height above, and in front of the bridge; considerable
bodies of the enemy's cavalry appearing in the plain before
us. Some skirmishing between our people and the enemy
took place, but nothing of any importance occurred. Our
brigade was left in this position to cover the working party
who were preparing to blow up the bridge, at which they
worked all day; during the night our people were withdrawn
from the farther side, and the explosion soon after
took place, but the destruction of the bridge was by no
means so effectual as was wished and expected. When we
turned out in the morning to move towards the bridge, I
(still having charge of my battalion's baggage) discovered
that a vast quantity of excellent biscuit was stored up in an
empty house in the village, which, no doubt, had been baked
for the purpose of supplying the magazine at Benevente;
and as our people had been but very indifferently supplied
with bread since we commenced the retreat, I determined
to load a bullock-cart with it, and try to get it to a place of
safety, where I hoped to be able to issue it to them.


I accordingly took a cart and two bullocks, there being
plenty in the village, and apparently without owners, for
the inhabitants had mostly either abandoned the place on the
appearance of the French, or had hid themselves. I loaded
the cart, but still I wanted a person to drive it; and although
I used both promises and threats, I could not prevail upon
any person to go with me. I therefore mounted the cart
myself, and using my sword by way of a goad, I entered
the river at a place which looked like a ford, and had the
good fortune to reach the other side in safety. I mention
this to show that so much importance need not have been
attached to the destruction of the bridge, as both here, and
near Castro Gonzales, the river was perfectly fordable, for[85]
near the latter place the French cavalry forded it on the
following morning.


I now made my way to Benevente, where I remained
during the day of the 28th; and at night, as before hinted,
the troops which had been guarding the bridge arrived,
leaving cavalry piquets on the plain between the town and the
river. The next morning our people left Benevente, and
as I was a little behind them with the baggage, on my reaching
a height in rear of the town, I observed in the plain in
front a considerable body of the enemy's cavalry, who had,
as before stated, crossed the river near Castro Gonzales,
and were advancing towards the town, opposed, though
feebly at first, by the few of our cavalry left there on piquet;
but the cavalry regiments which were in town quickly
turning out to their support, they were at length completely
able to oppose, and finally overthrow them.


During the time I remained here, I saw our brave dragoons
make three most gallant and successful charges
against superior numbers of the enemy, completely breaking
and dispersing the different bodies against which the
charges were made. The enemy appeared to be drawn up
in different lines, the front one of which was that always
charged; and I observed, that as our people advanced upon
them, they were always received with a fire either from the
carbines or pistols of the enemy, but this never appeared
in the least to check the ardour of the charge, for in a
minute or two after I observed the French troops retired in
confusion, and formed behind the other lines. At length
they were completely driven back to the ford by which
they had crossed; and in a charge now made upon them,
General le Febvre, with about seventy men, fell into our
people's hands. These troops were a part of Bonaparte's
Imperial Guard, and the flower of his army, being fine-looking[86]
men, dressed in dark-green long coats, with high
bear-skin caps, and mustaches, which gave them a formidable
appearance. It was said that Bonaparte was looking
on at this affair, and witnessed the defeat of his hitherto
invincible Old Guard; it is certain that he slept the night
before at Villalpando, a place only four leagues distant from
the field. I now set off and overtook the baggage and the
bullock cart, not having had an opportunity of issuing the
biscuit; but before I had proceeded above a few miles, the
bullocks knocked up, and notwithstanding every exertion
I found it impossible to get them any farther. Thus was I
reluctantly compelled to abandon a cart-load of excellent
biscuit, after having had so much trouble with it, at the
time when I knew it was greatly needed by my hungry
fellow soldiers, and to whom it would have been a most
welcome offering. On this day's march, a most lamentable
number of stragglers were overtaken by us, we being in
rear of all the infantry; they had either fallen out from
excessive fatigue, or from having (as in too many instances)
drunk too much; indeed, the destruction of the magazine
of provisions at the place we had left, enabled too many of
them to obtain by one means or other considerable quantities
of spirits, and which, of course, rendered them incapable
of marching. This was a long and wearisome day's
journey of nearly thirty miles; we did not reach Labeneza
till late at night, where a considerable quantity of ammunition
was obliged to be destroyed, the animals failing
which drew it.


The next day we reached our old quarters at Zalada, a
league in front of Astorga, where we halted for the night,
the remainder of the brigade going into the town. It was
to this village, it may be remembered, that we were sent
on our first advance, and subsequently after our first retreat[87]
from Labeneza; but besides these movements from
the village and back again, during the time we remained in
it, we almost every morning had orders to pack up and
move a short distance out of the place. This was done no
doubt to accustom us to a ready turning out, as till this
period our baggage had been transported on bullock-carts;
but now we had mules, and it was necessary to accustom
those whose duty it was, to load the mules with dispatch.
But on every occasion of this kind, the inhabitants always
imagined we were actually going to leave them, and the
moment we were clean gone, as they thought, they set to
work and rung the church bell with all their might. This
was either to testify their regret at losing our company, or
to evince their gratitude to Heaven for having got rid of
such a band of heretics, by which their most pure and holy
dwellings had been defiled; it was laughable to see the long
faces they put on when we, so contrary to their hopes and
expectations, always returned to our wretched and uncomfortable
quarters.


During the whole of the time we remained in this village,
I, as a staff-sergeant, could find no better lodgings than a
dirty open shed; the reader will therefore judge how ill the
privates must have been off. Our fellows began about this
time to pick up little bits of Spanish, and would often exercise
their ability to converse in the native tongue, by telling
the inhabitants that we were certainly going to "marcha
manana", that is, to march to-morrow, so that it became
quite a by-word, which annoyed our hosts not a little. If
I mistake not, the Padre of this village was a great knave,
and did not scruple to help himself to such things as he had
a mind for, belonging to our officers, whenever a fit opportunity
presented itself. The next day, the 31st, we moved
into Astorga, where we halted for an hour or two, till the[88]
destruction of the magazine there was completed, although
nothing but rum remained; and here I witnessed such a
brutal and swinish eagerness for drink as was quite disgusting.
The rum casks were ordered to be staved, and to let
the contents run out on the street, that they might not fall
into the hands of the enemy: thus the rum which had cost
so much trouble in bringing up all the way from Corunna
was about to be lost for ever; a thing most heart-rending to
the numerous soldiers looking on, who loved it so dearly.
However, they were determined not to lose all, for when
the heads of the casks were knocked in, and their contents
permitted to run in streams down the gutters, some of
those brutes deliberately took off their greasy caps, and
laving up the rum and the mud together, drank, or rather
ate, the swinish mixture. What noble soldiers would our
country produce, were not that detestable vice of drunkenness
so common among us; but to it how many have I seen
deliberately sacrifice their own and country's honour, nay
their very life itself, rather than forego the beastly gratification!


All this morning we had been told to keep a sharp look-out
on the Leon side of Astorga, for the enemy was every
moment expected to make his appearance from that quarter;
however, we were not disturbed during the short time
we remained. We here fell in with a considerable body of
Romana's army, apparently all confusion, and destitute of
every thing. We understood that they were not to be
marched in the same line we were taking, but that it had
been concerted between the two generals that our route
should be kept free; however, here, and for several days
afterwards, we suffered greatly from their contiguity.


We continued our march from Astorga the same day,
and reached at night the village of Foncevadon, about[89]
twenty miles distant. Here we pigged in as well as we were
able, there being only five or six houses; but as we had a
few tents with us, we managed not amiss. Till now our
brigade had formed the rear of the infantry, there being
some cavalry in rear of us; but it was now determined that
ours and the Light German Brigade under Brigadier-general
Charles Alten, should strike off from the great road, and
take the route for Orense and Vigo. This was done, I understand,
with a view to secure a passage across the Minho at
the former place, should Sir John, with the main army, be
compelled to retreat in that direction, and probably with
the view also of drawing off a part of the enemy's overwhelming
force from the pursuit of that body, and to induce them
to follow us into the mountains. Notwithstanding this,
they continued to pursue Sir John on the great road, whilst
they left us free altogether.


I beg to notice here, that both Mr Gifford and Mr Moore
(Sir John's brother), have fallen into a trifling error respecting
the period of our separation from the main body,
they both making us be detached before our arrival at Astorga,
whereas it was not till we had passed a day's march
beyond it that we were sent off. The thing is of no consequence,
only it is as well to be correct.


The next day, the 1st of January 1809, we marched by
a most difficult road through the mountains, to Ponferrada,
situated about a league to the left of the great road to Corunna,
on which the main army was retreating. When we
got in, our commissary immediately made a requisition to
the Alcalde of the town, to provide bread for the two brigades,
as we began to be in most fearful want. He promised
to set the bakers to work immediately, and in a few
hours, he said, the bread would be ready. We called on
him repeatedly, without obtaining any, he still alleging it[90]
was not yet quite ready, and putting us off from time to
time, till midnight, when the patience of our commissary
being fairly worn out, he yielded to the anger so naturally
inspired by such shuffling conduct, and used some strong
language to the Alcalde. Whereupon, we discovered at once
that he had been only amusing us with promises he did not
intend to fulfil; and told the commissary that he did not
fear any of his threats, for that, as Romana's army had now
also entered the town, he had no doubt they would protect
him, and revenge any insult offered to him. The commissary
had indeed talked about hanging him for his double-dealing,
and leaving the troops utterly starving; but if he
could have got any bread ready, it is most natural to suppose
he would prefer letting his own countrymen have it;
this, however, as might be expected, had a most pernicious
effect upon our suffering soldiers, for when provisions could
not be procured in the regular and ordinary mode, it is evident
they would take them wherever they were to be found—for
hunger is not easily borne, accompanied by incessant
fatigue. In the morning, when we turned out to continue
our march towards Orense, we heard a heavy firing towards
our right and front, and this proved to be an attack made
by the enemy's light troops upon our first battalion, who,
with some cavalry, had been left in Cacabelos as a rearguard.
Our first battalion gained great credit for their conduct
on this occasion. The force of the enemy greatly exceeded
ours, yet our people drove them back with great
loss, killing General Colbert, who commanded the advance.
This was done by a noted pickle of the name of Tom Plunkett,
who, fearless of all danger to himself, got sufficiently
nigh to make sure of his mark, and shot him, which, with
the fire of the others, caused great havoc in the enemy's
ranks, and set them flying to the rear much faster than[91]
they advanced. Our situation was thus, in a manner, in
rear of the enemy's advance guard, yet they did not turn in
our direction. Cacabelos was distant from us only about a
league.


Our road this day lay over high and almost inaccessible
mountains, deeply covered with snow. On the top of one
of these, as our General was passing the column, a cry was
passed from the rear to open out to allow him to pass, the
road being very narrow. One of our men, as the General
came near, happened to say, loud enough for him to hear,
that "he had more need to give us some bread," or words
to that effect, which so exasperated the General, that he
instantly halted the whole brigade, ordered the man to be
tried by a drum-head court-martial, and flogged him on the
spot. It was a severe, but perhaps necessary discipline, in
order to check in the bud the seeds of murmuring and insubordination,
although I own it appeared harsh.


Our march was a long and toilsome one indeed, and did
not terminate till about ten at night, when we reached St
Domingo-Flores, where nothing could be procured but a
very small quantity of black bread, the village being quite
small. Tired with the journey, we felt rather inclined to
sleep than eat; and, wet and dirty as we were, we laid ourselves
down till dawn, when we commenced another such
day's march, and reached at night the village of La Rua.
During these two days, want and fatigue had compelled
many to fall out, some of whom, no doubt, perished in the
snow on the bleak mountains, over which our road, or rather
path, had lain; others fell into the hands of the enemy, and
some few rejoined us after having obtained some little refreshment
from the natives.


It would but be a repetition of the privations and fatigues
we underwent, to notice all that befell us on our way thence[92]
to Orense, which place we reached on the 7th of January,
having previously pushed on, by double forced marches, a
few hundred men, to take possession of the bridge over the
Minho at this place. Here we remained a day, and obtained
provisions, then much needed by us all, for the men had
been literally starving for several days past. We had time
and opportunity here also to strip and change our linen, that
is, those who had a change; the others washed the shirt
they took off, sitting without one till it was dry. Indeed,
by this time we were in a most miserable plight; our shoes,
of course, were nearly all worn out, and many travelling
barefoot; and our clothes, as might be expected, were ragged
and filthy in the extreme; indeed they could not be
otherwise, for I suppose none of us had put any thing off
since we commenced the retreat. This day's rest, however,
refreshed us greatly, and enabled us to perform the remainder
of our toilsome journey with more comfort; indeed,
since we had secured the passage of the Minho, and thus
prevented the enemy from getting in before us, our minds
were more at ease, for strong apprehensions were entertained
that the French would have detached a corps from their
main body to seize this pass, and thus cut off our retreat to
Vigo. A part of Romana's army entered Orense before we
left it, worse, if possible, in point of appearance than ourselves;
but they, in their best days, are more like an armed
mob than regularly organized soldiers.


It is a pity that Romana did not adopt the plan pointed
out to him by Sir John Moore, either to retire into the
Asturias with his army unbroken, or hang upon the flanks
of the enemy as he passed through the mountains; and
which he could have done with ease and safety, for these
fellows could live where regular troops would starve, and
there was no doubt but the peasantry would have assisted[93]
their countrymen with all their means. This would have in
some measure retarded the too rapid progress of the French,
and probably been the means of saving to our country one
of its bravest and most skilful generals.


Some of our men who had been compelled to stop behind
from fatigue and starvation, rejoined us here, having
generally been assisted by the peasantry, who gave
them food, and helped them forward.


On the 9th, in the morning, we left Orense, crossing the
Minho to the north side of that river, and continued our
march to the town of Ribadavia, situated at the junction of
the rivers Avia and Minho, both of which, from the melting
of the snow, and the immense quantities of rain that
had fallen, were greatly swollen. So much so, that when I
approached the town with the baggage, (the troops having
gone on before,) and which I did not reach till near midnight,
I found the road completely overflowed with water;
and being without a guide, I could not of course in the
night be certain where the road lay, the whole bank of the
river being completely under water. We were in consequence
obliged to climb the mountains to our left, and proceed
in the best manner we were able with the loaded
mules; but so precipitous were they in one place, that a
load of ammunition slid off the mule's back, and the casks
rolled rapidly down the hill towards the river. I durst not
venture to leave them, although my chance of finding them
in such a situation appeared small indeed; however, we
halted the remainder of the mules, while a few of us set off
down the steep in the direction we had seen them go, and
after a long and anxious groping in every hollow of the
rocky mountain, succeeded in recovering them; but the
powder in them, and indeed nearly all the ammunition we
had, was rendered completely useless, from the constant[94]
heavy rain that had fallen. I am almost astonished that no
accident happened to either man or beast in this perilous
journey, for our feet literally "stumbled upon the dark
mountains," without either guide or path, and where the
ground was most uneven and dangerous. We however at
length reached our destination, wet and weary enough, and,
just as we entered the town, were informed that the corridor
of one of the convents where two of our companies were
sleeping, had just fallen to the ground with a tremendous
crash, and that several men had had their limbs broken by
the fall; I do not remember that any were killed. It being
so late, I could not procure any kind of quarter, so I was
fain to sit down by the side of a fire kindled in the yard of
this convent for the remainder of the night.


We next morning resumed our journey, and in three
days more from this place we reached Vigo. On this last
day's march we had a pretty high eminence to ascend at
some distance from the town, from which the view of the
town, the shipping, and the sea, broke all at once upon us.
It was a most delightful prospect, and it was highly amusing
to observe the joy which seemed to animate the woe-worn
countenances of our ragged and dirty soldiers. Fellows
without a shoe or a stocking, and who before were
shuffling along with sore and lacerated feet like so many
lame ducks, now made an attempt to dance for joy; laughter
and mirth, and the joke, now succeeded to the gloomy silence
with which they had in general prosecuted their wearisome
journey for several days past, as the friendly element before
them promised shortly to put a period to long and toilsome
wanderings. Indeed, although I am a bad sailor, and suffer
always severely when at sea, I do not remember ever to
have witnessed a sight which inspired me with greater
pleasure than the shipping and the sea did on this occasion.


The[95] fleet of transports for the army under Sir John
Moore, was just clearing the bay as we came in sight, but
we observed that a sufficient number remained at Vigo to
transport us to our native land, a place we sorely longed
for, as we had often contrasted the happiness and security
and comfort of our friends at home, with the poverty and
misery we had lately witnessed in the country we were
leaving; and this no doubt increased our anxiety for the
change. We marched into Vigo, and were soon after put
on board the vessels destined to receive us. It was my fortune
to be sent on board the Alfred, 74, with two of our
companies; a great number of men were still behind, for
even the few last days' marches had deprived us of many who
till then had braved the toils and privations of the journey,
but who now had fairly sunk under exhaustion. The Commodore,
therefore, remained as long in the bay as it was
safe, sending the stragglers as they arrived on board the different
ships; but within a few days after our arrival, the
enemy entered the town, which of course precluded all
hope of more escaping. We consequently weighed and stood
out towards the outer bay, where we again came to anchor.


A Russian ship-of-war was in a small harbour in this bay,
which it was intended to board and cut out. As we were then,
I believe, on rather bad terms with that nation, never did I
witness such alacrity and delight as our tars on board the
Alfred manifested when buckling on their cutlasses for the
occasion, and I feel certain that if confidence in themselves
would tend to insure the victory, no men had a better
chance of succeeding; but from some cause or other with
which I am unacquainted, the enterprise was abandoned.


On the 21st January we weighed and stood out to sea;
but a gale coming on we were obliged to come to anchor[96]
again under the shelter of the Isle of Bagona. We did not
get to sea till the 24th, but on the 25th we spoke a frigate
going out to Lisbon with General Dyatt on board, who informed
us of the fatal business at Corunna. Indeed the people
on board this ship had, from vague reports, greatly magnified
our loss on that occasion, telling us that the whole
army had been nearly cut to pieces, and that very few indeed
had been able to effect their escape. We each, of course,
mourned for his particular friends, not doubting but they
had fallen among the rest. I think it was the same night
on which we saw this ship, a fatal accident had very nigh
taken place. Our captain was the Commodore, and the
captain of the Hindostan store-ship had charge of the rear
of the fleet; his place was consequently always behind all
the other vessels. Some time after dark, however, our look-out
people gave notice of a large vessel on our starboard
quarter. We shortened sail and let her come up pretty
close to us, and made the private signal, but no answer was
returned. At length, when near enough, we hailed her, but
still no answer. An order was now given to stand to quarters
and prepare for action, not doubting she was an enemy
which had got among the fleet. The guns were accordingly
run out, the matches lit, and every thing prepared for
action. She appeared a large ship, but of what force they
could not guess. Again she was hailed, and again she disregarded
it. Our first lieutenant was now fully convinced
she was an enemy, and pleaded hard with the captain to give
the word fire, but the captain said he would hail her once
more, and if she did not answer he would fire. Providentially
they heard us this time, and answered it was the
Hindostan. What they had been about I know not, for we
were quite near each other; and had she received our broadside,
as was the intention had she not then answered, it is[97]
most probable she would have gone down; at all events the
consequences must have been awful, for she had the whole
of the 43d regiment on board, besides her own crew. Our
captain certainly censured him in no very mild terms for
leaving his station in the rear, and getting to the very head
of the fleet. She was a very lofty ship, and carried forty-four
guns I believe, and had not less than 1000 men on
board, many of whom must have suffered had we fired upon
her.


A few days after this we encountered a most tremendous
gale, and came in sight of the English coast, somewhere
near the Lizard or the Start; but our master not knowing
exactly where he was, we stood off again towards the French
coast.


The next day the gale was if possible more severe, and the
ship rolled so much that they were afraid her guns would
break loose from their lashings, in consequence of which
large spikes were driven in behind the wheels of each gun-carriage
to prevent such an accident. In this situation, I
know not whether I did not almost wish myself on the
snowy mountains of Galicia again, rather than where I was,
so miserable a sailor am I, and so much do I suffer from
sea-sickness.


The fleet was by this time completely scattered, every one
making the best shift he could for himself; some got into
Plymouth, some reached Portsmouth, and some, I believe,
foundered in the gale, among which, if I mistake not, was
a brig, on board of which my two companies had been first
embarked, but were subsequently removed to the Alfred,
and some of the German Legion, I think, put on board her.


At length we made the Isle of Wight, and subsequently
Spithead, which we reached on the 31st, and the next day
landed once more on the happy shore of our native Britain.[98]
Thankful indeed I ought to have been for the ever watchful
care of an indulgent and kind Providence, who had brought
me safely through the toils and sufferings under which so
many more robust and hardy than myself had sunk; but, alas!
I had then no sense of the gratitude due for such unmerited
favours, and instead of rendering thanks to Him who had
thus preserved me, I entered, with all the eagerness of a person
devoid of reason and religion, into every vice and sensuality
that presented itself. I here learnt with sorrow the
great loss which my friends in the first battalion had sustained,
but glad nevertheless that it was not to the extent
we apprehended, and that none of my particular friends had
fallen.


We left Portsmouth, and returned to our old quarters at
Hythe, in Kent, passing again on the road my native county
militia at Battle, in Sussex, as I did at Bury, on my return
from Holland; and truly our appearance on this occasion
was, if possible, more deplorable than on the former. However,
our tattered and worn-out habiliments had the effect
of inspiring some of my countrymen in that regiment with
a desire of sharing in the glory, as they termed it, of suffering
so much in the defence of our beloved country; and
they accordingly made up their minds to volunteer into
our corps the first opportunity that offered, and which they
put in execution that same year, as will be told hereafter.
We took up our abode in the comfortable barracks at Hythe,
and immediately set about putting every thing in order,
and truly much was wanting to fit us again for duty as
soldiers.


[99]


CHAPTER VI.


Volunteering—Farther Promotion—Embarks for Portugal, with two
Companies of the Second Battalion—Debark at Cadiz—Advance to the
Isla—The French occupy all the adjacent Towns, except Cadiz and
the Isla—Cannonading—Spanish Army—Detachment of the Allied
Army sent round by Gibraltar and Chiclana, to take the Enemy in
the rear of his works, and compel him either to fight or abandon
them—Come up with a portion of the Enemy in the vicinity of Veger—Bravery
of the British—The Enemy repulsed with great Loss, but,
from the apathy and misconduct of General La Pena, and the Spaniards
under his command, the French are allowed to retain their
Works in the vicinity of Cadiz.


In April of this year, an order was issued to allow the
militia regiments to volunteer, for the purpose of filling up
the regiments of the line; and I was sent by Colonel Beckwith
(our two battalions being then both at Hythe) to
receive those who chose to volunteer from the Northumberland
militia before-mentioned, which had now been removed
to Ipswich. Lieutenant Beckwith had the charge
of our party, but proceeded incog. to Ipswich, the general
orders not permitting officers of the line to be seen in the
quarters of the militia. On our arrival at Ipswich, I had
the pleasure of obtaining the names of thirty fine young
fellows, among whom the patriots formerly mentioned of
course were included. Several other militia regiments in
this district also gave volunteers to us, so that in three
days, from the commencement of the volunteering, we obtained[100]
upwards of 1100 men; and had we not, by an order
from the Horse-Guards, been precluded from taking any
more, I doubt not we should have obtained several hundreds
besides, for our regiment alone had near eighty names
down for us, who were not allowed to enter from the above
cause. Indeed the Commander-in-Chief, Sir David Dundas,
(afterwards our Colonel,) appeared quite astonished, and
not well pleased, that we had run away with so many men
when others wanted them so much. He was obliged, however,
to grant us a 3d battalion, as we had so many more
men than were required to fill up the 1st and 2d; and our
respected Colonel, Major-general Coote Manningham, dying
about this time of the fatigue he had undergone in Spain,
Sir David took us to himself, and became our Colonel-in-Chief,
giving the command of the 3d battalion to my respected
(and now lamented) friend and benefactor, Major-general
the Honourable William Stewart. The Lieutenant-colonelcy
was given to Major Norman M'Leod, our senior
Major, and only two or three other steps were given to the
officers of the regiment, although it was alone owing to
their exertions in obtaining men, and to the high character
the regiment had acquired, that such numbers had volunteered
into it.


It becomes not me to censure or criticise the measures
of government, but I cannot help thinking that more favour
was certainly due to the corps as a body. For myself, I
ought and must speak with gratitude, not of them, but of
that kind Providence which has favoured me so far, so very
far, beyond my deserts, for, on the 8th of June following, I
was appointed Quartermaster of the 3d battalion.


Our 1st battalion was again sent out to join the army in
Portugal, while mine was sent to Brabournlees to equip
and drill our new levies. Every exertion was made to this[101]
effect, and the battalion was soon completed and rendered
fit for service. Here my wife joined me again, the child to
which she gave birth in my absence having died when six
weeks old. This was the only child she ever had, and it
was perhaps a providential dispensation, for she was extremely
delicate, and by no means a healthy person, and it
is not unlikely her offspring might have inherited her disease,
that is, an affection of the chest. We had only lived
a few months together, till another call for service separated
us again.


In June 1810, we received orders to send out to Cadiz
two companies of my battalion, together with the commanding-officer
and staff, three others having been already
sent thither in the spring. The melancholy business of
parting with my wife was again to be gone through; but
on this occasion I was favoured by being permitted to accompany
her to London, where, parting from her with a
heavy heart, I took my place for Chichester, at which place
my detachment would be quartered next day, on their way
to Portsmouth. I omitted to mention, that Lieutenant-colonel
Barnard of the 1st or Royals, had exchanged with
Lieutenant-colonel M'Leod some time previous, and he
consequently was now going out as my commanding-officer.
We embarked at Portsmouth on the 11th July, on board
the Mercury frigate, armed en flute, and commanded by
Captain Tancock.


We had a favourable passage, and landed at Cadiz on the
29th of that month. This city, it may be remembered, was
besieged at this time by a French army under Marshal
Victor; consequently, when we arrived, we were amused
by seeing immense shells flying from one party to the
other, but without doing any serious injury to either, the
distance being too great to produce any effect of moment.[102]
As we came in sight of Cadiz, the view was most enchanting,
for the city appeared as if composed of lofty and elegant
snow-white buildings, apparently rising from the bosom of
the ocean, for the land on which it is built cannot be seen
at a distance; added to which, the numerous and beautiful
towns about the bay, and a little beyond it, rendered it a
most delightful scene. On the right was Cadiz, with its
lofty lighthouse, and its strong sea-walls rising out of the
water; on the left was Rota, an apparently neat little town.
Farther up the bay, on the same side, was Port St Mary's,
and beyond that Porto Real, both considerable towns. In
the centre rises the Isla de Leon, now called St Ferdinand;
beyond that Chiclana, composed of the elegant country
residences of the more wealthy Cadiz merchants; and, in
the distance, towering on the mountains behind, the dazzling
white town of Medina Sidonia shining in the sun; indeed
altogether imagination can scarcely picture to itself a more
interesting coup-d'œil, the scene being closed by the lofty
snow-clad mountains of Ronda. We landed at Cadiz, and
remained for the night in the barracks situated in the barrier,
on the land-side of the town, and which is remarkably
strong, the fortifications being composed of solid masonry,
and the barracks all bomb-proof. I suffered dreadfully from
the myriads of fleas which preyed upon me during the night,
and was glad when morning appeared.


We marched next day to the Isla, (be it observed the town
is called by that name as well as the island on which it and
Cadiz are situated,) distant from Cadiz about seven miles;
the island is of a most singular form, being about ten
miles broad at the end next the continent, from which it is
separated by the river Santi Petri; immediately below the
town of Isla it begins to narrow very rapidly, forming from
thence to Cadiz nothing more than a narrow sand-bank, in[103]
some places not more than a hundred yards across, and on
which a causeway has been built to connect the two places.
We took up our abode in the Isla, where the Spanish government,
such as it was, at this time resided; and here I
witnessed the first opening of the Spanish Cortes in 1810,
which was attended with all the pomp and show of a truly
Roman Catholic people. Te Deums and other pompous
and brilliant ceremonies marked the event; indeed, here we
had an opportunity of seeing a great number of the grandees
of the Spanish nation, for, as I said before, the government
had retired to this place from Madrid, and most of the courtiers
and others attached to the government had assembled
here, together with the deputies from the different provinces;
altogether the scenes we witnessed here were sometimes
very imposing.


The French occupied all the towns before named save
Cadiz and Isla, their advanced piquets being thrown forward
to near the river Santi Petri, except near the Bridge of Luaza,
which is the only communication across from the island
to the mainland; here our pickets were advanced a considerable
distance beyond the bridge upon a causeway on which
is the road leading to Seville, through a broad salt marsh
on the banks of the river; it is here about two miles wide,
and utterly impassable, except to those who know the footpaths
across it, being intersected at every few paces by deep
salt-pits or pans. The enemy, as mentioned before, had
their sentries at some parts pretty far into the centre of
this marsh, and there were some fellows in the Spanish
service called by the name of "creepers," they obtaining
their livelihood by killing sea-fowl and other animals in this
marsh; and so dexterous were they at this creeping, that
they could steal upon the birds unperceived, which enabled
them to get them with ease. Sometimes a fellow of this[104]
calling would set off on a creeping excursion, and instead of
bagging a wild-duck, or some other such bird, would plunge
his stiletto into the heart of an unsuspecting French sentry,
and leave him weltering in his gore. This was a noble exploit
in their estimation, and marks strongly the character
of the Spaniard, who, inured to blood by the frequency of
their bull-fights and other similar exhibitions, hesitates not
a moment at assassination if urged on by what he deems his
own or country's wrongs; this inhuman act, of course, was
perpetrated in the dark.


I may mention, in connexion with this, that on the Christmas
of 1810, it was reported that sixteen people had been
assassinated in Isla alone, on the evening or night before;
it is probable the number may have been exaggerated, but
the thing was such an almost everyday occurrence that it
appeared not to excite the least horror at its atrocity. I
had occasion to go down the town during the Christmas day,
and I saw still lying at the corner of one of the most frequented
streets, one of the unhappy beings who had thus
fallen. No one seemed inclined to own him; and his body,
foul with blood and dust, was thus permitted to remain in
the public streets without any enquiry being made with respect
to the perpetrator of so foul a deed. In truth they
are, as it were, trained up to this recklessness of human life
from their infancy, for in the town of Isla there was a sort
of naval academy, where a number of boys, from perhaps
eight to twelve years of age, were educated; these urchins
were permitted to wear swords, and it is really astonishing
how desirous they appeared to make use of them, for they
could scarcely ever pass along the streets without trying the
sharpness of their points upon the backs of pigs or dogs, or
any other unfortunate animal that came in their way.


The French also occupied a long low tongue of land which[105]
stretches out into the Bay of Cadiz, taking its rise from between
Port St Mary's and Porto Real, and extending to
within about two and a half miles of Cadiz, and about one
from Puntalis, a fort erected on the island opposite the
extremity of this low tongue; this is called the Trocadero,
since become famous as the field on which the Duke D'Angouleme,
and Prince Carignan of Naples, gained so many
honours. On the point of this tongue the enemy's principal
batteries were erected, and from thence they contrived
occasionally, but not often, and never with any great effect,
to throw shells into the town of Cadiz. The mortar now
in St James' Park, called the "Prince Regent's bomb," was
cast at Seville on purpose to enable them to reach the town,
no ordnance of common dimensions being capable of throwing
a shell so far; but it did not answer the end proposed,
or at least the effect expected from it, for it was imagined
by them, that if they could once succeed in throwing shells
into the city, the inhabitants would become so alarmed that
they would compel the military to surrender. This, however,
was far from being realized, although they did throw
a few in; but the distance being so great, they were necessarily
thrown much at random, some of them falling short
of the town, others flying completely over into the bay near
the lighthouse on the other side, and some few, as I said,
falling in the city, but from which very few casualties occurred.[2]
I am told they were obliged to have the mortar
[106]slung in chains at the time of firing it, the concussion being
so great as to destroy the bed in which it was fixed. As
may be supposed, there was constant war between our fort
Puntalis, before mentioned, and the enemy's batteries on
this point; in fact our people had orders to throw a thirteen-inch
shell every quarter of an hour, besides the occasional
firing from the guns and other mortars when any thing appeared
on the opposite side; and you may be certain the French
were not behind us in the expenditure of ammunition; they
were remarkably fond of firing what are termed salvos, that is,
volleys of artillery. On one occasion I happened to be looking
out from a high tower near Isla, called the Tore Alto, and
while all was deep and profound silence, and I happened to be
looking towards the point of Trocadero, in a moment the
smoke rose from at least 100 pieces of artillery, fired by signal,
and the noise they made was tremendous. Our poor little
fort of Puntalis appeared almost enveloped in the dust raised
by the striking of the shot, and the smoke from them which
fell about it, and seemed as if almost deprived of power by
so sudden and unexpected a salute; but she began at length
to return the compliment, although feebly in comparison of
the tremendous volley she had received. This and such like
were of frequent occurrence, scarcely a day passing without
something interesting taking place.


To enable us to cope in some measure with the French,
a large double fortified sea-mortar was brought from Gibraltar,
which threw thirteen-inch shells. It was brought up
to the back of the town of Isla, near some powder magazines,
and an attempt made there to throw some shells over
[107]to the Trocadero. The first trial, an empty shell was put in,
with not less than thirty-two pounds of powder in the chamber.
On firing it, the shell flew all to atoms, from the violent
shock occasioned by so great a quantity of powder; and
the shell being too weak for that description of mortar, another
was tried filled with sand, to give it more weight and
solidity; this answered the purpose, for it fell on the land
on the opposite coast, but still, from the great range, much
uncertainty must naturally attend the practice, and it was
eventually given up. The next day, however, we were
saluted from the opposite side with both shot and shell, the
French thus showing us that they were better able to play
at long bowls than we were; neither, however, did their
practice continue, for there was nothing at the point where
their shot and shells fell to be injured by them, the magazines
before noticed being now empty.


On another occasion an attack was made by our people
on the Trocadero itself, where it was reported the French
had got a considerable number of boats, &c., laid up on shore,
about half-way between the point and Porto Real; our folks
took gun-boats and boats with rockets, the intention being
to set fire to the enemy's craft. They accordingly advanced
in good style, keeping as far, however, as possible out of the
range of the French batteries at the point, which, as they
were directed towards Cadiz and Puntalis, could not easily
bring their artillery to bear upon our boats. They reached
the place where it was said the French craft was lying,
and fired a considerable number of rockets, but without being
able to effect any thing farther than burning one boat, I believe.
As they were returning, however, they met the French
commander, who had been down to the point in a light boat,
and he, like a brave fellow, determined to run completely
the gauntlet rather than return, keeping as close in shore,[108]
however, as possible. The whole of our gun-boats fired at
him as he passed, and knocked the water up about him in
all directions without ever once touching him, although, to
look at him, one would have imagined it impossible he could
escape; but here the old soldier's adage was verified, for
there was still more room to miss than to hit him, and he
accordingly escaped scot-free.


While here, I had a most ample opportunity of closely
viewing the Spanish army, great numbers being stationed
in and about the Isla, and great numbers constantly coming
into and going out of the place, after receiving such equipment
as the government was able to provide for them. Nothing
could exceed the hardy and robust appearance of the
men in general; and had they been clothed, appointed, and
disciplined like either their enemies or their allies, there
could not have been a finer soldiery. I cannot, however,
say so much for their officers; most of them appeared to be
utterly unfit and unable to command their men. Those who
had the means, seemed to think of nothing else but dressing
like apes or mountebanks, and intriguing with the women.
It was really absurd and ludicrous to see the strange figures
they generally made themselves. In one regiment alone you
might have observed more different uniforms than both we
and the French have in all our armies. One would have had
on a blue coat turned up with red, with a chaco and a straight
sword, the uniform prescribed for officers of the infantry, I
believe; the next would have most likely had on a hussar
dress, with an enormous sabre dangling by his side; another
would have had a red coat, a fourth yellow, a fifth white,
and so on. In short, all the colours of the rainbow were
generally exhibited in the uniforms of one regiment's officers;
and every one of them appeared to vie with the other who
could make the greatest harlequin of himself, whilst those[109]
of them who were mounted would caper and prance about
the streets like so many fools, riding with their legs at full
stretch, and the toe of the boot (if they had one) just touching
the stirrup, and drawing the reins continually through
the fingers of their right hand; and if by any chance an ape of
this kind came near the window of his dulcinea, and thought
there was a likelihood of her seeing him, I pitied the poor
foot-passengers who might happen to be near him, for he
would make his unfortunate Rosinante prance and caper by
the immense long bit in its mouth, and the pieces of iron in
the shape of spurs on his (shoes perhaps), till the poor animal
was like to fall under him. In short, they had all the
pride, arrogance, and self-sufficiency of the best officers in
the world, with the very least of all pretension to have an
high opinion of themselves; it is true they were not all
alike, but the majority of them were the most haughty, and
at the same time the most contemptible creatures in the
shape of officers, that I ever beheld. It was, therefore, not
to be expected that the soldiers would or could look upon
them with that degree of respect and reverence so essential
to a due maintenance of subordination in an army.


About the month of February 1811, it was concerted
between the Spanish government and General Graham, who
commanded us, to undertake an expedition which should
land in the vicinity of Gibraltar; and being there reinforced
by some troops from that fortress, the whole should move
forward in the direction of Chiclana, and, taking the enemy
in the rear of his works, compel him either to abandon them
or fight a battle. Accordingly, on the 18th of that month,
we embarked on board some small vessels that had been
fitted up for the occasion in the bay of Cadiz, and, sailing
soon after, we reached Algeziras, ten miles on this side of
Gibraltar, and landed there on the 24th. Our force consisted[110]
of a brigade of artillery, with ten guns; two battalions
of Foot Guards; the 28th, 67th, and 87th regiments; a
battalion composed of flank companies from Gibraltar; two
companies of the 47th regiment, and two of the 20th Portuguese
regiment, with six companies of our corps and one
squadron of cavalry,—in all about 4500 men. The Spanish
army, under the command of General La Pena, (who, being
senior officer, directed the whole,) consisted of two divisions,—in
all from ten to eleven thousand. We were not
allowed to take any baggage with us, consequently we could
not expect much comfort during the service, which was
expected to be short. The day we landed we bivouacked
on a height near Algeziras, and the next morning moved
on towards Tarifa, where we remained for that day and the
next, to allow time to get the artillery and cavalry horses
on shore. Here I observed a strange custom among the
females of this place, the remains, I apprehend, of the
Moorish fashion, (which no doubt would continue longer in
this place than others, it being immediately opposite to and
in sight of Africa.) The Spanish women all wear what they
term a mantilla, that is, a kind of scarf made of cloth, generally
black, which they throw over their heads lengthwise,
letting the two ends come over their shoulders, and meeting
and crossing on the breast, it forms a sort of head-dress which
shows only the face, and keeps them close and snug about
the head; but here, they bring it so far forward as to completely
cover the face, leaving nothing but a very small hole
in front of their left eye (I think it is), at which they peep
out, without showing any part of the face. Colonel Brown
of the 28th, who was then a most wild and eccentric character,
although now I understand completely altered, could
not relish this hiding of their beauty by the modest dames
of Tarifa. All, therefore, that he met in the streets he stopped,[111]
and made them open the mantilla, that he might
have a fair peep at them, to the great scandal of the good
ladies of this still Moorish town, and which, had it been on
any other occasion, might have been attended with unpleasant
consequences to himself.


When every thing was ready we moved forward from
Tarifa, and halted for the night on a height about twelve
miles distant. The next day we reached Casas Vejas, or
"Old Houses," where we bivouacked on a scrubby hill, the
weather being very bitter, which we felt in all its force,
having no covering whatever. Next day we had to cross a
considerable lake of fresh water, by a sort of ford which
crossed it about the middle. We had started before daylight,
and, through some mismanagement, did not reach
this lake till near mid-day, although it was only a few miles
distant from our last night's quarters. One division of the
Spaniards led the column, and another was behind us, we
being thus in the centre, as being the least thought of probably
by our Spanish Commander-in-Chief; for indeed we
had often heard it said in and about Isla, "what fine-looking
and well-disciplined soldiers the British are!—what a
pity they cannot fight!" So thought La Pena, probably;
but by two o'clock the first division of Spaniards had not
near got over the lake, at which the patience of our General
was so completely exhausted, that he requested the Spanish
General to allow him to bring forward the British troops, to
show him the way how he and they would act. My battalion
led the van, and were ordered to march straight through
it without any picking of steps, and to go forward in regular
sections, one man supporting another. They went in and
marched right through it, as if it had been plain ground,
the water taking them generally about mid-deep. The rest
of the British army followed, and were all through in less[112]
than half an hour; a one-horse cart, indeed, stuck fast in
the middle of it, from the wheels having got entangled
between the large stones at the bottom. General Graham
seeing this, instantly dismounted, and, plunging in, set his
shoulder to the wheel, and fairly lifted it clear of the obstruction.


La Pena, and those about him, after witnessing the example
set them by our General and his troops, seemed really
ashamed of their former conduct, and, setting to in good
earnest, they contrived to urge their soldiers and officers to
take the water with more freedom, and before dark the
whole army had got over. While we were so long detained
by the first division of Spaniards getting across, I, with
several other mounted people, rode forward to the ford, to
ascertain the cause of our stoppage for so long a time. The
Spaniards were going into the water one at a time,—here
one, and there one,—while the creatures of officers were
making the men carry them on their backs. Had the whole
army acted thus, we should not have got over before daylight
next morning.


When all were across, and the columns formed, we moved
forward, and reached the neighbourhood of Veger, which
stands on a high hill not far distant from the memorable
Cape Trafalgar. We halted in an olive-grove below the
town, and bivouacked for the night; it was bitter cold, and
the troops could find but little wood for firing, which they
much needed, from having got so completely wet in crossing
the lake.


We remained at Veger all the next day, and a little after
dark commenced our march. We being now in the neighbourhood
of the enemy, it became necessary to conceal our
movements as much as possible. During the night we
passed the fishing town of Conil, and, keeping near the[113]
coast, we arrived the next morning on the plain of Chiclana.
I quote from our General's dispatch, as it states the thing
in a much more clear and satisfactory manner than I could
do. He says,—"After a night march of sixteen hours
from the camp (bivouack) near Veger, we arrived on the
morning of the 5th on the low ridge of Barossa, about four
miles from the Santi Petri river. This height extends
inland about a mile and a half, continuing on the north the
extensive heathy plain of Chiclana. A great pine-forest
skirts the plain, and circles round the height at some distance,
terminating down towards Santi Petri, the intermediate
space between the north side of the height and the
forest being uneven and broken."


The two Spanish divisions had preceded us, who, after
having rested a while on the plain, moved down towards
the Santi Petri, where a bridge was to be thrown over by
the troops in the Isla de Leon, and thus open a communication
between the two armies, that is, between those inside
the island and us.


The General goes on to say,—"A well-conducted and
successful attack on the rear of the enemy's lines, near
Santi Petri, by the vanguard of the Spanish army under
Brigadier-general Ladrizabel, having opened the communication
with the Isla de Leon, I received General La Pena's
directions to move down from the position of Barossa to
that of the Torre de Bermesa, about half-way to the Santi
Petri river, over which a bridge had been lately established.
This latter position occupies a narrow woody ridge, the
right on the sea-cliff, and the left falling down to the Almanza
creek, on the edge of the marsh; a hard sandy beach
gives an easy communication between the western points of
these two positions.


"My division being halted on the eastern slope of the[114]
Barossa height, was marched about twelve o'clock through
the wood towards Bermesa, (cavalry patrols having previously
been sent towards Chiclana, without meeting with
the enemy.) On the march I received notice that the
enemy had appeared in force on the plain, and was advancing
towards the heights of Barossa. As I considered that
position as the key of Santi Petri, I immediately countermarched,
in order to support the troops left for its defence;
and the alacrity with which this manœuvre was executed,
served as a favourable omen. It was, however, impossible,
in such intricate and difficult ground, to preserve order in
the columns, and there never was time to restore it entirely.
But before we could get ourselves quite disentangled from
the wood, the troops on the Barossa hill were seen returning
from it, while the enemy's left wing was rapidly ascending.
At the same time his right wing stood on the plain,
on the edge of the wood, within cannon-shot. A retreat in
the face of such an enemy, already within reach of the easy
communication by the sea-beach, must have involved the
whole allied army in all the danger of being attacked during
the unavoidable confusion of the different corps arriving on
the narrow ridge of Bermesa nearly at the same time.


"Trusting to the known heroism of British troops, regardless
of the numbers and position of the enemy, an immediate
attack was determined on. Major Duncan soon
opened a powerful battery of ten guns in the centre. Brigadier-general
Dilkes, with the brigade of Guards, Lieutenant-colonel
Brown's (of the 28th) flank battalion, Lieutenant-colonel
Norcott's two companies of the 2d rifle corps,
and Major Acheson, with a part of the 67th, (separated from
the regiment in the wood,) formed on the right.


"Colonel Wheately's brigade, (consisting of the 28th,
67th, and 87th,) with three companies of the Coldstream[115]
Guards, under Lieutenant-colonel Jackson (separated likewise
from his battalion in the wood), and Lieutenant-colonel
Barnard's flank battalion (being two companies 47th,
two ditto 20th Portuguese, and four of third battalion 95th)
formed on the left. As soon as the infantry was thus hastily
got together, the guns advanced to a more favourable
position, and kept up a destructive fire. The right wing
proceeded to the attack of General Ruffin's division on the
hill, while Lieutenant-colonel Barnard's flank battalion,
and Lieutenant-colonel Bush's detachment of the 20th
Portuguese, were warmly engaged with the enemy's tirailleurs
on our left.


"General Laval's division, notwithstanding the havoc
made by Major Duncan's battery, continued to advance in
very imposing masses, opening his fire of musketry, and
was only checked by that of the left wing. The left wing
now advanced firing. A most destructive charge, by the
three companies of the Guards and the 87th regiment,
supported by all the remainder of the wing, decided the
defeat of General Laval's division.


"The eagle of the 8th regiment of light infantry, which
suffered immensely, and a howitzer, rewarded this charge,
and remained in possession of Major Gough of the 87th
regiment. These attacks were zealously supported by Colonel
Bilson with the 28th regiment, and Lieutenant-colonel
Prevost with a part of the 67th. A reserve, formed
beyond the narrow valley, across which the enemy was
closely pursued, next shared the same fate, and was routed
by the same means.


"Meanwhile, the right wing was not less successful.
The enemy, confident of success, met General Dilkes on
the ascent of the hill, and the contest was sanguinary; but
the undaunted perseverance of the brigade of Guards, of[116]
Lieutenant-colonel Brown's battalion, and of Lieutenant-colonel
Norcott's and Major Acheson's detachments, overcame
every obstacle, and General Ruffin's division was driven
from the heights in confusion, leaving two pieces of cannon.


"No expressions of mine could do justice to the conduct
of the troops throughout—nothing less than the almost unparalleled
exertions of every officer, the invincible bravery
of every soldier, and the most determined devotion of the
honour of his Majesty's arms in all, could have achieved
this brilliant success against such a formidable enemy, so
posted. In less than an hour and a half from the commencement
of the action, the enemy was in full retreat.
The retiring divisions met, halted, and seemed inclined to
form; a new and more advanced position of our artillery
quickly dispersed them. The exhausted state of the troops
made pursuit impossible. A position was taken up on the
eastern side of the hill; and we were strengthened on our
right by the return of two Spanish regiments, that had
been attached before to my division, but which I had left
on the hill, and which had been ordered to retire.


"An eagle, six pieces of cannon, the General of Division
Ruffin, and the General of Brigade Rousseau, wounded and
taken; the Chief of the Staff, General Bellegarde, and
aide-de-camp of Marshal Victor, and the colonel of the
8th regiment, with many other officers killed, and several
wounded and taken prisoners, the field covered with the
dead bodies of the enemy, attest that my confidence in
this division was nobly repaid. The animated charges of
the 87th regiment were most conspicuous. Lieutenant-colonel
Barnard, (twice wounded,) and the officers of his
flank-battalion, executed the duty of skirmishing in advance
with the enemy in a masterly manner; and were ably
seconded by Lieutenant-Colonel Bush, of the 20th Portuguese,[117]
who (likewise twice wounded) fell into the enemy's
hands, but was afterwards rescued."


The dispatch contains many more acknowledgments,
which, as they have no connexion with my narrative, I
have omitted.


I beg now to make such remarks and observations as
may tend to throw light upon the different parts of the
foregoing dispatch.


The two Spanish battalions attached to our division, together
with Lieutenant-colonel Brown's flank-battalion,
were left upon the height of Barossa, when we moved down
into the wood, in order to secure that position till we had
possessed ourselves of the height of Bermesa; but we had
not left the plain more than half an hour, I think, and
descended into the wood, till an officer came galloping after
us, saying the French had debouched from the wood, and
were moving on to the high ground in our rear, and had
attacked the troops left there for its defence. Orders were
instantly given us to countermarch, and to get on to the
plain and into action as soon as possible. In coming about,
one of the guns got entangled with a pine-tree; there was
no time to disengage it, and setting to with the whip, they
pushed the horses forward, and tore up the tree completely
by the roots, although one of considerable size. I thought
(as our General says) it appeared a good omen, and that a
trifling obstacle would not be allowed to impede their
career.


When we reached the plain, and perceived the enemy,
never did a finer sight present itself. They were manœuvring
on the high ground before us; and as Home says,



"The hill they gained, and moving on its top,

Of more than mortal size, towering, they seemed

An host angelic, clad in burning arms."




Those[118] immediately in front of my battalion were the famed
8th regiment, and consisted of two battalions of 700 men
each; one was composed of grenadiers, and the other of
voltigeurs, or light infantry. The grenadiers had long
waving red plumes in their caps, at least a foot in length;
while the light infantry had feathers of the same length
and make, but green, with yellow tops. The whole of the
French army had on their best or holyday suits of clothing,
with their arms as bright as silver, and glancing in the sun
as they moved in column, gave them really a noble and
martial appearance. We had no sooner cleared the wood
than we inclined to our left, and went immediately at them.
Major Duncan's guns commenced playing upon their column
the moment he could get a clear piece of ground.
The two companies of the 47th, attached to my battalion,
were taken to cover and remain with the guns. Our people
extended as we went up the hill, the Portuguese supporting
us in the rear; and in a very short time we were
hotly engaged with the fellows with the beautiful green
feathers, many of which fell on the ground in a short time.
As we advanced, the battalions to our right and in rear of
us got formed in line, and moving forward in fine style,
took up stronger ground in advance; the guns in the centre
also moving onward, and causing dreadful havoc in the
enemy's ranks.


Early in the action my horse was killed, being shot in
the head, which ball, had his head not stopped it, would in
all probability have entered my body. He fell like a stone.
I then went on and joined the ranks, and finding a rifle of
a man that had just fallen, (poor little Croudace's servant,
who afterwards fell himself,) I took a few shots at them in
revenge for my horse. At this time the grenadier battalion
of the 8th, with their waving red plumes, began to advance[119]
in close column, the drums beating all the time the pas de
charge. They were supported by other columns in their
rear, together with one, the French 54th, which they sent
into the wood to try to turn our left. The 8th advanced,
notwithstanding the galling fire kept up by our people and
the Portuguese, every shot almost of which must have told,
as they were in a solid body, not more than from 100 to
150 yards' distance. Our people were of course compelled
to give way to this imposing column, when the regiments
on our right and in our rear, opening out upon them a
destructive fire, and the 87th and Guards immediately after
attacking them with the bayonet, their rout and discomfiture
was complete. The 8th, which suffered most, and
from whom the eagle was taken, never yet got into line—nor
did they intend, I believe—but advanced as a solid body,
(occasionally firing from their front,) till, coming in contact
with the regiments above mentioned, and in this state
receiving the charge, their loss was excessive, for they
could not get away. I understand, when the 87th charged,
Ensign Keogh of that regiment made the first attempt to
wrench the eagle from the officer who carried it; but in so
doing he was run through by several of those who supported
it, and fell lifeless to the ground. Sergeant Masterson
of that regiment then dashed at it, and was more
fortunate, he succeeding in securing it. I understand there
was some dispute between them and the Guards, who
charged at the same time with the 87th, to whom it properly
belonged; but I imagine the 87th must have been
the captors, for Sergeant Masterson soon after received a
commission for his gallantry, and is now a captain in that
regiment.


The 54th, the French regiment, which had been sent
into the wood to turn our left flank, by some means got[120]
entangled; for, except their light company, no part of the
regiment ever got into action again; and when their columns
were routed, they found some difficulty in effecting
their retreat. There is something rather extraordinary and
very interesting in the story of the eagle and the 8th regiment,
if it be true, and which I see no reason to doubt.
They were one of the regiments, it is said, which were
engaged at Talavera, and were particularly distinguished;
and it is further said, that the 87th was one of the regiments
opposed to them, and over which they gained some
advantage; that is, the French troops caused the British
brigade, in which the 87th was serving, to retire with considerable
loss; and that it was for their conduct in this
action that Bonaparte had placed a golden wreath of laurel
round the neck of the regimental eagle with his own hand.
If such was the case, it is most remarkable that the very
regiment by whom they should have obtained this honour,
should be the regiment that deprived them of their eagle,
which had been so highly honoured. But here, poor fellows,
although they did not lose their honour, they lost
very nearly the whole regiment; for out of 1400 which
entered the field, not more than 200 of them entered Chiclana
after the action. Indeed I never witnessed any field
so thickly strewed with dead as this plain was after the
action; and I feel confident, and all accounts agree in confirming
the opinion, that the loss of the French on this
occasion was little short of 3000 men; ours was about
1250. Here then we have a loss of 4000 men in about an
hour and a half, out of about 12,000 which composed the
two armies.


In this action, Colonel Bush was almost absurdly brave
and conspicuous. As soon as he got his Portuguese fairly
into action, he rode slowly backward and forward among[121]
them, with his spectacles on, crying out as the balls whistled
past him, "Que bella musica!" what delightful music! Poor
fellow, he did not ride there many minutes; for, being within
a very short distance of the enemy's tirailleurs so conspicuous
an object, it was not to be expected he could escape.
He died a few days after the action.


Colonel Barnard, my commandant, (now Sir Andrew,)
about the middle of the action, received a severe wound,
and was borne away to the rear. Whilst the surgeon was
dressing him, another shot struck him, and inflicted, I believe,
a worse wound than the former. The horses of my
battalion suffered greatly in proportion to their numbers.
We had only four in the field, two of which, Major Ross's
and my own, were killed, and Colonel Barnard's wounded;
only the adjutant's escaped with a whole skin. Indeed there
was scarcely an officer or soldier in the action that had not
marks of shot about him. The caps of the tall guardsmen
were riddled as it were; while the greater part of the enemy's
shot passed over our little fellows, who were both too
near them, and too low for their fire. I may remark on this
subject that the French generally fire high, but here I
think unusually so; for, after a considerable quantity of
ammunition had been expended by my battalion, it became
my duty to look out for a fresh supply. I accordingly
posted off to the rear, where I expected to have found some
mules which had been attached to us, with ammunition on
their backs; but on my way thither, the ground was actually
ploughing up on all sides by the enemy's large shot, and their
musket-balls falling very thick; so much so, that some of
our mules far to the rear had been wounded, and the others
had dispersed. Hence also the second wound which my
gallant commander received, where he ought to have been
completely out of danger. Some ammunition for our rifles[122]
was, however, found in a one-horse cart belonging to the
artillery, and out of it those whose ammunition was expended
were replenished. But during my absence to the
rear, the gallant and decisive charge had been made; and
when I again reached the front, I perceived the enemy's
columns in full retreat, covered by the remainder of their
light troops, closely followed by some of my people. The
retreat was accordingly sounded to recall them from the
pursuit, and our brave and victorious little army cheered
the enemy as his beaten and disheartened columns left the
field.


Immediately after our army began to move off towards
the Isla, our General being, as I understood, so much exasperated
with the apathy evinced by the Spanish General,
that he would no longer co-operate with him, and consequently
drew off our troops into the Isle of Leon. My battalion,
however, was destined to remain on the field all night
to protect the numerous wounded from any marauders, or
small parties and cavalry patrols of the enemy, which might
happen to return. However, not a Frenchman made his
appearance there again that night. When it was determined
to withdraw the British army, Major Duncan, with
great humanity, (approved of course by our excellent
General,) cast off from the artillery-carriages all the spare
ammunition, in order to make room for as many of our
wounded officers and soldiers as those carriages could accommodate,
and thus a considerable number of them were
carried from the field immediately.


After they had left us, and my battalion was still standing
in front of the position last occupied by our troops, all
having retired but ourselves, and it now began to draw
towards night, and we were preparing to move off, an unfortunate
French sergeant attracted our notice. Poor fellow,[123]
he had been shot in the small of the back, and (on
our surgeon examining him) pronounced to be mortally.
He appeared to be a man above forty, and apparently a
veteran, who had fought many a hard field; and was, I
think, one of the most respectable-looking men of his class
that I have seen. When he saw us preparing to leave him
to his fate, the expression of his countenance became the
most piteous and beseeching imaginable; imploring us in
French not to leave him there to perish. My heart bled
for him; but unhappily we had no means of removing him,
had there even been a hope of his recovery. When he saw
that his fate was inevitable, he crawled in the best manner
he was able to a broken ammunition-box, and raising himself
on his knees, supported by it, besought that Being who
never casts out the cry of the unfortunate, and who, I sincerely
hope, imparted to him that strength and comfort
which his unhappy circumstances so greatly required. I
doubt not he was a sincere Christian; never shall I forget
the impression his unhappy fate made on my mind. To be
left in solitude and darkness on this blood-stained heath,
with the prospect of his own certain death before his eyes,
and without any to comfort him in his last agony, must
indeed have been a severe trial to his fortitude. Would
to God I could have relieved him! His case was not singular,
it is true; but none ever presented itself to my view
under such truly affecting circumstances as this unhappy
veteran's did.


After dark, my battalion retired over the field where the
thickest of the dead and wounded were strewed, and many
were the dying groans which struck upon our ears, as we
traversed this bloody field; but, except these groans, no
sound was heard, where lately the din of arms had been[124]
loud and fierce, and where war had raged in all its fury;
till coming to the house upon the sea-beach, where many
of the wounded had been collected, we were formed into
square on a sand-hill near it, and in this position rested on
our arms for the remainder of the night. On our way
from the front, we passed not far from where my horse had
fallen; and as saddlery was scarce at Cadiz, I thought it
would be prudent to try to recover that on which I had
been riding. I found it; but my horse having fallen with his
back inclined to the front, it was perforated by shot in five
places, and the tree was broken. However, I disengaged
it, and giving it to one of the men, whose rifle I carried in
return, I got it safely into Isla.


About twelve at night, poor General Rousseau died, a
cannon-shot having carried away the greater part of the
flesh of one of his thighs; and as no other troops were
near, the task of paying him the last sad duty devolved upon
me. I went to the house aforesaid, and procured a shovel
or a spade, and digging a hole in the sand by the light of
the moon, his body was deposited, where it in all probability
will remain till the last trumpet shall summon it to
rise. Poor drunken Gilles, one of the men I had employed
on the occasion, pronounced the only service as he was
committed to the dust, which was, "God rest his soul!" I
indeed sincerely hope so. Poor Rousseau had been a noble
soldier; in his pocket was found a leave which he had obtained
to return to France on account of ill health; but in
the prospect of the approaching action he had delayed his
departure, and thus fell a victim as it were to his patriotism
and his sense of honour. He was military governor of Xeres
de la Frontera, from whence we have our wine called Sherry,
a corruption of Xeres. He was a small slender person, and[125]
apparently had suffered greatly from ill health. During
the night some Spaniards were sent into the field to look
for and bring off the guns we had taken, which they did.


As it approached towards morning, Major Ross, seeing
all was quiet, moved us off by the beach towards our former
quarters; and passing over the position of Bermesa,
which the Spaniards still occupied, and crossing the Santi
Petri by the lately erected bridge, we returned weary and
hungry to La Isla, and where our friends received us once
again with great cordiality. If my reader is not tired of the
subject, I would just beg to draw his attention for a moment
to the circumstances attending this action. The French
troops were at least 7500 (some say 8000) strong, well
clothed and appointed, and apparently well fed, and fresh
from their cantonments, none of them probably having
marched more than four miles. They were some of the best
in the French service, and commanded by one of Bonaparte's
ablest generals, a marshal of France, Victor, Duke
of Belluno. They occupied a fine position, having the ground
completely at their choice; while we did not muster more
than 4500 at most. We had been marching for sixteen
hours successively through the night over bad roads; and
being taken in a manner by surprise, we came out of the
wood beneath the enemy, broken and disjointed, and were
instantly hurried into action.


The French fought desperately; for when their marauding
columns came down upon us with an intrepidity seldom
seen in the French army, and opening out their heavy and
destructive fire, my heart quaked within me for the safety
of our little army, and the honour of our country, for I
thought it would be impossible to resist them. However,
the steady valour of our troops repelled the assailants, and,
taking advantage of their proximity, charged as before[126]
stated, and completely overthrew them. It is certain, as
General Graham says, that all must have done their duty
on this occasion; notwithstanding, we may sing with great
propriety, "Non nobis, Domine"—"Not unto us, O Lord,
but unto thy name be the praise;" for it is certain we must
have been specially favoured by a kind Providence, or it is
impossible we could have gained such a victory under so
many and so great disadvantages; for never was victory
more complete. In less than three hours from the first
glimpse we had of them as we debouched from the wood, a
Frenchman was not to be seen in all the field, save the
numerous killed and wounded.


Although our General did not say any thing in his public
dispatch of the abominable conduct of La Pena, no doubt
he stated truly in his private information how ill that General
had behaved; for he and the 10,000 or 11,000 Spaniards
he had with him remained within two miles of the field of
action, quiet and passive spectators of the scene, without
making one effort to support us had we been beaten, or to take
advantage of the victory should we gain it; and the consequence
was, the French retained their ground and works by
which they invested Cadiz and La Isla, whereas, had he
made the slightest movement during or after the fight, they
would have all gone off, and the siege would have been
raised, for it is evident they contemplated and were prepared
for this, the soldiers having each three or four days'
bread in his possession.


A considerable number of other officers besides Generals
Ruffin and Rousseau were taken. Ruffin was wounded in the
neck by a rifle-shot, which touched the spinal marrow, depriving
him of the use of his limbs. He was soon after
embarked for England, but died as he came within sight of
the Isle of Wight. He was an immense and a fine-looking[127]
man, about six feet two inches or six feet three inches high,
and ate enormously. He every day received a mess from
our General's table. The other officers also were treated
with the greatest politeness and attention, dining first at
one regimental mess, and then at another. They were fully
sensible of the kindness shown them, and expressed themselves
very grateful. They were afterwards sent to England.


I cannot omit here noticing the high estimation in
which General Graham was held by every officer and soldier
of this little army. I may truly say, he lived in their
affections; they not only looked up to him with confidence
as their commander, but they esteemed and respected him
as their firm friend and protector, which indeed he always
showed himself to be.


In all my fighting I never was in an action where the
chances of death were so numerous as in this; and I may
say, I never was in an action where I was less prepared to
die. It is therefore of the Lord's mercies that he spared me—I
hope, for good at last.


FOOTNOTE:






[2]
The distance to which the French threw these shells is truly amazing.
The longest range of heavy iron sea mortars is only about 4200 yards,
whereas the distance from the French batteries on the Trocadero to the
nearest point of Cadiz was, I believe, 4500 or more; but they exceeded
this considerably, for, as I said above, some of their shells fell in the sea
beyond the town, near the lighthouse, a distance of at least 500 or 600
yards farther. The shells were always half filled with lead, to increase
their flight, so that when they burst the mischief they occasioned was
never extensive; I believe not more than about half-a-dozen individuals
suffered from them in all.









[128]


CHAPTER VII.


The 2d Battalion of the 95th Rifles ordered to proceed to Portugal—Our
Author visits England—Returns to Portugal, and joins his Regiment
at Rodrigo—The Army move towards Badajos—Siege of
Badajos—Badajos surrenders—Insubordination among the Troops—Quelled
by the prompt measures of Lord Wellington.


We remained at Isla till June, without any thing of importance
occurring, but at this time I was brought nigh to
death's door by the bursting of a bloodvessel in the lungs.
I was so ill that it was deemed necessary to send me home
for change of air, it being exceedingly hot at this time at
Isla. I was accordingly removed to Cadiz to wait for the
first ship returning to England, and while there I suffered
greatly, not being able to lie down in bed. However, before
a vessel could be had, an order was received for my
battalion to proceed to Portugal, and our esteemed commander
was likewise ordered to proceed to that country. As
I felt myself somewhat better, I obtained permission to accompany
my battalion to Portugal, and I accordingly embarked
with it at Cadiz on the 30th of that month, on board
a transport, the name of which I forget. General Graham[129]
intended to have gone in a 50 gun ship that was leaving that
port for England, he being to be left at Lisbon in passing.
He sent an aide-de-camp on board to prepare for his reception;
but he met with such treatment while on board, as
induced the General to alter his plan and go in a frigate, on
board which some of our people were embarked. It is said,
that after the aide-de-camp had been shown the accommodation,
the captain intimated to him, that it was expected the
military officers would always keep on the leeward side of the
quarter-deck. The windward side on board a man-of-war is considered
the most honourable, therefore this was in fact putting
the General beneath himself. He suffered, however, for
his ill-timed assumption of supremacy, for there was a quantity
of specie at Cadiz which was to be transported at the
same time for the use of the army in Portugal, and which
was intended to have gone in the ship with the General; but
after this reception of his aide-de-camp, and the imperious
condition attached to his going in this ship, he went on
board the frigate with his suite, and took the money with
him, thus depriving him of a considerable premium for its
transport, to which he would have been entitled had the
General gone with him. He, however, being the senior officer,
we were all put under his charge, save the frigate
before mentioned, and we were greatly annoyed by him
during our passage, which our master said he prolonged in
looking out for American merchantmen, there being then
an appearance of war between the two countries. They
said he actually detained one or two which left Cadiz when
we did, and that he fired small arms into them to bring
them to, although war had not been declared. One day
during the passage he made a signal to the transports which
we did not immediately perceive. We were astonished at
the report of a gun, and at the same time a cannon-shot[130]
whizzed past our rigging. This is not, I believe, customary,
a blank gun being generally fired first, and when nothing
else will do, a shot a-head of the vessel, but he appeared not
to stand on any ceremony.


We were glad when the voyage was over, it continuing
from the 30th June to the 19th July, although three or four
days only is the usual time.


We landed at Lisbon, and immediately set about preparing
for our journey up the country to join the army; but
Colonel Barnard having received letters respecting the settlement
of our late Colonel (General Manningham's) affairs,
which could not be easily arranged without my presence,
determined to send me home for the purpose, with a promise,
however, that I should immediately come out again.
I accordingly embarked on board the same transport with a
ship full of all kinds and descriptions of people, sick and
wounded, and lame and lazy; such a motley group I have
seldom seen. Our paymaster also returned home with me,
and besides him I did not know a person on board.


We had a long and tedious passage, not reaching Portsmouth
till the 27th August, although we embarked on the
1st of that month. When we entered the chops of the Channel,
there was a considerable swell in the sea. Our master,
for some purpose or other, had got up from the hold a small
quantity of ballast (gravel), which was laid upon the quarter-deck.
A fine stout young Irishman, an officer on board,
came up the companion, and seeing the ballast lying there,
asked where it came from.


"Why, don't you see," says the master, "how rough the
sea is? it has been washed up from the bottom and thrown
upon the deck."


The Hibernian seemed quite astonished at the effect of
the swell, but believed the story with all the simple-hearted[131]
credulity of a Johnny-raw, as the soldiers term a young
and inexperienced soldier. Our paymaster was a little of a
gourmand, and having for some time been deprived of luxuries,
determined to indulge a little now we had come to
the land of plenty. On our road, therefore, to London, (he
and another officer and myself posting it,) we stopped at
Godalming for dinner; he would needs have a carp, which
he happened to see in a pond in the garden, made ready for
our dinner. It was prepared according to his request, and
with it and other good things we contrived to fare pretty
well; although, according to my taste, a fresh herring would
have been preferable. But lo, and behold! when the bill was
called for, the awful sum of half a guinea for the carp was
added to the other items of the dinner, which amounted to
quite enough without it. To remonstrate would have been
useless; we therefore paid the bill and set off, determined to
be more economical in future.


I passed through London, and reached the depôt of my
battalion, then stationed at Ashford in Kent, where, after
having arranged the business for which I had been sent home,
I obtained a three months' leave of absence to visit my native
place, where I arrived, thank God, in a much improved
state of health, and where I found all my friends and connexions
as well as could be expected, and no doubt happy
to see me.


About the middle of November of the same year, I started
once more for foreign service, and embarked at Portsmouth
for Lisbon on the 22d of that month, on board a
small brig heavily laden with corn for the army in Portugal.
We remained some time wind-bound, but at length
got to sea and proceeded on our voyage, but shortly after
the wind headed us and began to blow very fresh. We were
therefore compelled to run for the Race of Portland, where[132]
we came to anchor. But the wind coming more favourable
in a day or two, we weighed again, and got as far on our
voyage as opposite Torbay; but here again the wind coming
foul, we were obliged to enter the bay and drop anchor again.
We were detained here a good many days, during which I
went ashore with another officer, who was on board with
me, and indulged in some Devonshire clotted cream at
Brixham.


In about a week we again started, and got about half way
across the Bay of Biscay, when a heavy gale overtook us,
and in which we lost a considerable portion of our quarter-bulwarks
(I think they are called). Indeed, from the brig
being so heavily laden, the water being within a very little
of her gunwale, she did not weather the heavy seas which
struck her very well, for during the night one came clean
over her, partly filling the cabin where we lay with water;
and I own I had considerable apprehension for our safety,
which I believe was pretty universal on board. It pleased
Him, however, who ruleth over all things, to bring us
through the gale without further injury, although we appeared
next morning in a very shattered condition, and after
a few more days' sailing, we reached the Tagus, and landed
at Lisbon about the middle of January 1812, and immediately
commenced equipping for a campaign with the army
which was at this time besieging Ciudad Rodrigo. I had
to purchase a riding-horse and a mule to carry my baggage,
and a great deal more of essential requisites to enable me to
do my duty in the field; and to say truth, I had not, by any
means, sufficient funds to meet these considerable expenses,
and was consequently forced to borrow, and glad enough
to find a friend who could and would lend me enough for
the occasion. And here I cannot but remark, that it seemed
peculiarly hard on junior officers, on their taking the field,[133]
to be compelled to furnish all this equipment at their own
expense. I have known several who did not recover from
the debt they thus incurred (could they find a friend, as I
did, to lend them what they wanted) for a considerable time
after they had joined the army; nay, I believe some never
recovered it, and the persons who were kind enough to
oblige them lost several large sums in this manner. In my
own case, I know, I was most wofully put to it to raise a
sufficiency for this purpose; and many, I know, have been
compelled to take the field without the necessary equipment
to render them efficient. They were thus of little service
to the army for a considerable time after joining, and
many of them were obliged to leave it again, after striving
to do their duty, inadequately provided with the conveniences
and comforts requisite to enable a man to bear up against
the fatigues he had to encounter. It struck me as but just,
and in this opinion I am not singular, that all officers who
have not sufficient pay and allowances to enable them to
provide themselves with the means of transport, ought to
be furnished in the first instance at the public expense, and
then be afterwards obliged to keep them in a fit state for
service at their own.


I set out from Lisbon soon after, and joined my regiment,
which was one of those that formed the light division, and
found them cantoned in the neighbourhood of Rodrigo, that
fortress having fallen some days previous to my arrival. I
had not been many days with the regiment till the division
was assembled at a village called Ituera, on the banks of the
Azava, to carry into execution the sentence of a general
court-martial, before which seven men of the division had
been arraigned for desertion to the enemy, they having been
taken in Rodrigo at the capture of that place. They were
of course all found guilty, as they were taken as it were out[134]
of the enemy's ranks, and never attempted to plead not
guilty; but they had said in palliation of their heinous crime,
that they were forced to desert from want of food and clothing;
indeed the army had not been so well supplied for a
short while previously, as they had been accustomed to, but
there never was any thing like want. I understood the
clothing also was getting bad, but the men could not be got
up the country for want of transport, and they were no
worse off than their comrades. Indeed, from all I could learn,
they had acted in a most diabolical manner; for at the attack
of the breaches in assaulting the place, they were distinctly
heard crying out to one another, "Now here comes
the light division; let us give it them, the rascals," or something
to that effect, and had, it is said, done more injury to
the assailing party than twice their number of Frenchmen.
Death of course was their sentence, and now the wretched
victims of delusion were to atone with their lives for one of
the greatest crimes known in the criminal code of the army.


The division was formed into three sides square, on a
plain in front of the village, the graves of the hapless beings
occupying a part of the fourth face of the square. When all
was ready, and a firing party from each regiment had been
formed in the centre, the provost-marshal went to the
guard-tent, where the prisoners were in waiting, to conduct
them to the place of execution. They soon after appeared,
poor wretches, moving towards the square, with faces pale
and wan, and with all the dejection such a situation is calculated
to produce. Their arms had been pinioned one by
one as they came out from the guard-tent, and all being
ready, the melancholy procession advanced towards the centre
of the square. The proceedings of the court which tried
them, together with the sentence, and the approval of the
Commander of the Forces, was read by the Assistant Adjutant-general,[135]
in the hearing of the whole division; which
concluded, the prisoners were marched round in front of
every regiment, that all might see and avoid their unhappy
fate. They were then moved towards their graves. I ought
to observe that the chaplain of the division had been with
them in the guard-tent some little time previously to their
leaving it, and when they quitted as above described, he
followed them at a considerable distance, apparently ashamed
of his peculiar calling, and the duty incumbent on him
in such a conjuncture. They were led, as I said before, towards
their graves; and when they reached the bank of earth
in front of each, they were made to kneel down with their
faces fronting the square, and then being one after another
blindfolded, and left for a few moments to their own reflections
or their prayers, the provost-marshal proceeded to the
firing party, who had been previously loaded, and directing
the men of each regiment to fire at their own prisoner, he
advanced them to within about ten or twelve paces of the
wretched men, and giving the signals by motion for their
making ready and firing, the whole fired at once, and plunged
the unhappy criminals into eternity. There was, indeed, one
melancholy exception to this. One of the prisoners belonged
to the troop of horse artillery attached to the division,
and it seems the provost, in giving his orders for the
soldiers of each regiment to fire at their own man, had not
recollected that the artillery had no men there to fire. He
was thus left sitting on his knees, when the others had
fallen all around him. What his feelings must have been it
is in vain to guess; but, poor fellow, he was not suffered
long to remain in suspense, for a reserve party immediately
approaching, they fired and stretched him also along with his
companions in crime and misery; and in such of the others
as they perceived life still remaining, they also immediately[136]
put an end to their sufferings, by placing their muskets
close to their body, and firing into them. One poor man,
when he received his death wound, sprung to a considerable
height, and giving a loud shriek, he fell, and instantly
expired.


When all was finished, the division was formed into column,
and marched round in front of the bodies, where
each soldier might distinctly perceive the sad and melancholy
effects of such a fatal dereliction of duty. They
were then, without more ado, thrown into their graves,
which were filled up without delay, and the division separating,
each regiment marched to its quarters.


I cannot describe the uncomfortable feelings this spectacle
produced in my mind—nay, not only there, but in
my body also—for I felt sick at heart; a sort of loathing
ensued; and from the recollection of what I then suffered,
I could not easily be persuaded to witness such another
scene, if I had the option of staying away. Death in the
hundred shapes it assumes on the field of battle seems
honourable, and not near so revolting to the feelings, and
withal comes suddenly; but to witness the slow and melancholy
preparations for an execution such as this, is productive,
in any heart that can feel, of the most unpleasant sensations,
I think, imaginable.


One of the poor wretches was the little shoemaker of
our Highland company, by name M'Guiniss, whom I had
known for many years, and who formerly bore an excellent
character; but he had most likely been seduced by some of
his companions to commit this heinous crime.


Not many days after this, the whole army began to move
towards Badajos. On the 26th of February we left our
cantonments, and passing by way of Castello Branca and
Villa Velha, we reached a village not far from Niza, called[137]
Povo das Meadas, where my battalion took up its quarters
for a time. From hence I was dispatched to Lisbon for the
regimental clothing, which had then arrived at that port;
but being unable to procure the means of transport, I was
obliged to return without it. I rejoined them in the camp
before Badajos about the 25th of March, and witnessed the
siege of that fortress from this period to its fall on the 6th
of April. The breaches having been reported practicable
by the engineers on the 5th, in the evening the army was
assembled for the assault, and was disposed as follows: the
3d division under General Picton was ordered to attack the
citadel, and to endeavour to establish himself there by escalade;
the 4th and light divisions, the former under General
Colville, and the latter commanded by Colonel Barnard,
were destined for the breaches; the 5th division, which had
not co-operated hitherto in the siege, but brought this
evening into the neighbourhood, was ordered to occupy
the ground in front of the town by way of reserve. One
brigade of that division was ordered to make a false attack
on a work called the Pardeleras, which was connected with
the town, although not actually belonging to it. Another
brigade of the same division was ordered to make another
false attack round towards the gate near the river Guadiana,
which latter was to be turned into a real attack, if circumstances
permitted General Walker, who commanded it, to
do so. There was also a brigade of Portuguese, which was
ordered to attack St Cristoval, a fort on the other side of
the river. Every thing was arranged in the clearest and
most satisfactory manner; all knew what they had to do,
the point they were to occupy in the attack having been
pointed out to most of them the day before. Soon after
dark, the different divisions began to move towards their
destined posts, all elated with the certainty of success.


I[138] was then in the mess of the senior captain of my battalion,
who commanded it on this occasion; and my other
messmates were poor little Croudace and Cary, both
lieutenants, the latter acting adjutant, and another. We
had taken a farewell glass before we got up from dinner,
not knowing which of them would survive the bloody fray
that was likely soon to commence. Poor Croudace, a native
of the county of Durham, and consequently a near
countryman, put into my hand a small leather purse, containing
half a doubloon, and requested me to take care of it
for him, as he did not know whose fate it might be to fall or
to survive. I took it according to his wish, and put it into
my pocket, and, after a little more conversation, and another
glass, for the poor little fellow liked his wine, we parted,
and they moved off. Although I had thus, as it were,
settled it in my mind that I would not go with them on
this occasion, for my services could have been of but very
little utility, yet, when they went away, I felt as if I was
left desolate as it were, and was quite uneasy at parting
from my beloved comrades, whom I had always accompanied
hitherto. I therefore slung over my back my haversack,
containing my pistol and a few other things, and
moved forward, to try if I could find them; but falling in
with some of my friends, staff-officers of the 43d, who were
in the same brigade, they strongly dissuaded me from it,
representing to me the folly of uselessly exposing myself, and
the little service I could render there; and one of them requested
me to accompany him to a hill immediately in front
of the breaches, where we could see the business as it proceeded.


We waited till about ten o'clock, when the fire first
commenced from the castle upon the 3d division, as they
approached it; but the fire from thence did not appear[139]
very heavy. Not long after it opened out at the breaches,
and was most awfully severe; indeed it was so heavy
and so incessant, that it appeared like one continued
sheet of fire along the ramparts near the breaches, and
we could distinctly see the faces of the French troops,
although the distance was near a mile. All sorts of arms,
&c. were playing at once, guns, mortars, musketry, grenades,
and shells thrown from the walls, while every few
minutes explosions from mines were taking place. The
firing too appeared to have such a strange deathlike sound,
quite different from all I had ever heard before. This was
occasioned by the muzzles being pointed downwards into
the ditch, which gave the report an unusual and appalling
effect. This continued without a moment's cessation, or
without any apparent advantage being gained by our
struggling but awfully circumstanced comrades. Lord
Wellington had also taken his stand upon this hill, and appeared
quite uneasy at the troops seeming to make no progress,
and often asked, or rather repeated to himself, "What
can be the matter?"


The enemy had adopted an excellent plan to ascertain
where our columns were posted; they threw an immense
number of light balls on all sides of the town, and when
they found out where there was a large body, a rocket was
fired in the direction of where it stood, and instantly every
gun, mortar, and howitzer, not previously engaged, was
turned in that direction, and grievous was the destruction
their shot made in the ranks of these columns. Still our
people at the breaches did not get forward, although we
distinctly heard, with emotion, the bugles of our division
sounding the advance. His lordship seemed now to lose
all patience, and aides-de-camp were sent to ascertain the
cause of the delay. They flew like lightning, while the[140]
whole rampart round the town seemed enveloped in one
flame of fire. Our brave but unsuccessful comrades were
heard cheering every now and then; but still the fire at the
breaches did not slacken. At length a dispatch arrived
from General Picton, stating, that he had established himself
in the castle. This was cheering news to his lordship,
who expressed very strongly the gratitude he felt for
that gallant General.


During the reading of the dispatch, which was done by
torchlight, the enemy, perceiving the light, and that a number
of people had assembled on the hill, directed a shell in
that direction; but it fell short, and did us no injury. His
lordship now rode off, and ordered our people at the
breaches to retire, as the town was now perfectly secure. I
also set off to inform my people of the happy circumstance.
I found them drawn off from the glacis a few hundred yards;
but, oh! what a difference in their appearance now from
what they were previous to the attack! The whole division
scarcely mustered at this time 2000 men, so many had
been killed and wounded, and many had been sent to the
rear with the latter. I informed them that General Picton
had got possession of the castle, but my story appeared to
them an incredible tale; for it was actually impossible, they
thought; and although they made me repeat it over and over
again, they could scarcely bring their minds to credit such
unexpected news.


It was now dawn of day, and the firing had ceased at
every point. Here I learnt the fate of my two beloved
friends and messmates: Croudace had been shot through
the body, and carried to the rear; Cary had fallen, but they
could not tell what had become of him. I now went forward
towards the breaches, where I found that several men
of both the 4th and light divisions had remained; and when[141]
General Picton moved from the castle towards that point,
which I believe he stated in his dispatch to be his intention,
the enemy, finding themselves attacked in rear, began to
abandon the defence of the breaches, and our people were
then enabled to enter. Never did I witness any thing like the
artificial impediments which the enemy had here thrown up,
which, added to the natural ones, that is, to the breaches
not having been so perfectly practicable as was desirable,
rendered it next to impossible to enter, even after all opposition
on their part had ceased. In one breach (the
large one) this was literally the case; for at the top of it
was fixed a chevaux-de-frize extending the whole width
of the breach, and composed of a strong beam of wood, with
sharp-pointed sword-blades fixed in every direction, they
being generally about three quarters of a yard long, and so
closely set together, that it was impossible either to leap
over them or penetrate between them, and the whole so
firmly fixed to the works at the top, that it could not be
moved. In addition, they had fitted a number of long and
thick planks, with spikes about an inch or more in length,
and laid them all down the breach, but fixed at the top, so
that it was impossible for any one to get up without falling
on these. Beyond the chevaux-de-frize several ditches had
been cut, into which those must have fallen who surmounted
the obstacles on the breach; but I believe none did,
although I saw one Portuguese lying dead upon the ramparts;
but I imagine he must either have been thrown up
there by some explosion, or been one of those of the 3d
division who came from the castle. In addition to all the
above, from the covered way down into the ditch was, I
should imagine, at least thirty feet; our people had descended
by ladders, and, I doubt not, in the dark, and, in the
hurry and confusion of the moment, many were thrown down[142]
and killed. In the middle of the large ditch a smaller one
had been cut, which was filled with water, and in which,
added to the inundation close to the right of the breaches,
(which had been caused by bringing the river partly into
the ditch,) numbers were drowned. Small mines had been
constructed all along in the ditch, which were exploded
when it was filled with people, and which produced infinite
mischief.


On the top of the ramparts the enemy had a considerable
number of shells of the largest size, ready filled and fused;
and when our people had filled the ditch below, these were
lighted, and thrown over on their heads, each shell being
capable of destroying from twelve to twenty men or more.
They had beams of wood also laid on the ramparts, with
old carriage-wheels, and every sort of missile imaginable,
which were poured upon the unfortunate people below.


When these things are taken into consideration, added to
the incessant and destructive fire of from 3000 to 4000 men,
all emulous to do their duty, at the short distance of perhaps
twenty yards, with the ditch as full as it could possibly
stow, the reader will be able to form some idea of the
destruction that must naturally ensue: and awful indeed it
was, for, within the space of less than an acre of ground, I
should imagine not less than from 1200 to 1500 men were
lying: it was a heart-rending sight. I learnt afterwards
that many were the desperate efforts that had been made to
ascend the breaches, but all in vain; that many had nearly
reached the top, but they being either shot or blown up,
the others were forced down again. Another and another
trial still was made, but each succeeding party shared the
fate of their predecessors. At last the bottoms of the
breaches were nearly blocked up with the bodies of those
who fell.


By[143] this time, General Philippon, the French governor,
had surrendered. When he found the 3d division had got
possession of the castle, and were preparing to move down
to second the attack of the breaches by taking the enemy in
rear, and that General Walker, with a part of the 5th division,
had escaladed, and established themselves at the other
end of the town, he deemed further resistance useless, and
retired, with the garrison, to St Cristoval, on the opposite
side of the river; and shortly after the whole surrendered
prisoners of war, the troops, after being stripped of their arms
and accoutrements, being marched along in the ditch to one
of the gates, from whence they were escorted on their way
to Elvas. They passed near the breaches while I was there,
and I had a full view of them as they moved along. I
thought they seemed under great apprehension for their
safety, as they appeared quite downcast and dejected, which
is not generally the case with French prisoners, who will
shrug their shoulders, and tell you it is the fortune of war;
but these poor fellows, who certainly had made a noble defence,
seemed low-spirited and timid to a degree. Certainly
by the rules of war, I believe, they might have been put to
death, for having stood an assault of the place; but a British
general does not resort to the same measures which their
Marshal Suchet did at Tarragona, when he put all, both
soldiers and inhabitants, to the sword.


Soon after daylight, the remaining men of attacking divisions
began to rush into the town, in hopes of sharing,
with those who had already entered, the plunder they imagined
it would afford; and though every thing was done by
Colonel Barnard, aided by the other officers, to keep out
those of the light division, it was useless, although he even
risked his life to prevent their entering. He had bravely,
during the attack, repeatedly ascended the breach, in hopes[144]
of overcoming the obstacles which presented themselves,
but he had always been driven back, although he escaped
unhurt where all was death around him; and now his life
nearly fell a sacrifice, in endeavouring to restore that discipline
in his division which this unfortunate and unsuccessful
assault had considerably impaired. He opposed his personal
and bodily strength to the entrance of the plunderers,
but in vain. They rushed in, in spite of all opposition; and
in wrenching a musket from one of the soldiers of the 52d,
who was forcing past him, he fell, and was nigh precipitated
into the ditch. He, however, finding resistance here in
vain, set off, accompanied by several other officers, into the
town, to endeavour to restrain, as much as lay in his power,
the licentiousness of those inside, whose bad passions, it was
but too evident, would be let loose upon the defenceless inhabitants.


I had been in company with Captain Percival, my commanding-officer
before alluded to, from the time of my first
coming down to the division before daylight; and now he
and I, hearing the heart-piercing and afflicting groans which
arose from the numbers of wounded still lying in the ditch,
set to work to get as many of these poor fellows removed
as was in our power. This we found a most arduous and
difficult undertaking, as we could not do it without the aid
of a considerable number of men; and it was a work of
danger to attempt to force the now lawless soldiers to obey,
and stop with us till this work of necessity and humanity
was accomplished.


All thought of what they owed their wounded comrades,
and of the probability that ere long a similar fate might be
their own, was swallowed up in their abominable rage for
drink and plunder; however, by perseverance, and by occasionally
using his stick, my commandant at length compelled[145]
a few fellows to lend their assistance in removing what
we could into the town, where it was intended that hospitals
should be established. But this was a most heart-rending
duty, for, from the innumerable cries of,—"Oh!
for God's sake, come and remove me!" it was difficult to
select the most proper objects for such care. Those who
appeared likely to die, of course it would have been but
cruelty to put them to the pain of a removal; and many
who, from the nature of their wounds, required great care
and attention in carrying them, the half-drunken brutes
whom we were forced to employ exceedingly tortured and
injured; nay, in carrying one man out of the ditch they
very frequently kicked or trode upon several others, whom
to touch was like death to them, and which produced the
most agonizing cries imaginable.


I remember at this time Colonel (the late Sir Niel)
Campbell passed out at the breach, and, as he had formerly
been a Captain in our regiment, many of the poor fellows
who lay there knew him, and beseeched him in the most
piteous manner to have them removed. He came to me,
and urged upon me in the strongest manner to use every
exertion to get the poor fellows away. This evinced he
had a feeling heart; but he was not probably aware, that
for that very purpose both my commanding-officer and
myself had been labouring for hours; but it soon began to
grow excessively hot, and what with the toil and the heat
of the sun, and the very unpleasant effluvia which now
arose from the numerous dead and wounded, we were both
compelled, about mid-day, to desist from our distressing
though gratifying labours.


It was now between twelve and one o'clock, and though
we had had a great many removed, a much greater number
lay groaning in the ditch; but our strength was exhausted,[146]
for he was lame and unable to move much, and I had been
obliged to assist in carrying many myself, the drunken
scoundrels whom we had pressed into the service seldom
making more than one or two trips till they deserted
us. But my lamented friend and messmate, poor Cary, was
still to search for, and, after a considerable time, he was
found beneath one of the ladders by which they had descended
into the ditch. He was shot through the head,
and I doubt not received his death-wound on the ladder,
from which in all probability he fell. He was stripped
completely naked, save a flannel waistcoat which he wore
next his skin. I had him taken up and placed upon a
shutter, (he still breathed a little, though quite insensible,)
and carried him to the camp. A sergeant and some men,
whom we had pressed to carry him, were so drunk that
they let him fall from off their shoulders, and his body fell
with great force to the ground. I shuddered, but poor
Cary, I believe, was past all feeling, or the fall would have
greatly injured him. We laid him in bed in his tent, but
it was not long ere my kind, esteemed, and lamented friend
breathed his last. Poor Croudace had also died immediately
after reaching the hospital, whither he had been carried
when he was shot.


Thus I lost two of my most particular and intimate acquaintances,
from both of whom I had received many acts
of kindness and friendship. They will long live in my
memory. Cary was buried next day behind our tents, one
of the officers (my other messmate) reading the funeral
service.


I cannot help adverting to some of the scenes which I
witnessed in the ditch, while employed there as above noticed.
One of the first strange sights that attracted our
notice, was soon after our arrival. An officer with yellow[147]
facings came out of the town with a frail fair one leaning
on his arm, and carrying in her other hand a cage with a
bird in it; and she tripped it over the bodies of the dead
and dying with all the ease and indifference of a person
moving in a ball-room,—no more concern being evinced by
either of them, than if nothing extraordinary had occurred.
It was really lamentable to see such an utter absence of all
right feeling.


Soon after this the men began to come out with their
plunder. Some of them had dressed themselves in priests'
or friars' garments—some appeared in female dresses, as
nuns, &c.; and, in short, all the whimsical and fantastical
figures imaginable almost were to be seen coming reeling out
of the town, for by this time they were nearly all
drunk. I penetrated no farther into the town that day than
to a house a little beyond the breach, where I had deposited
the wounded; but I saw enough in this short trip to disgust
me with the doings in Badajos at this time. I learnt
that no house, church, or convent, was held sacred by the
infuriated and now ungovernable soldiery, but that priests
or nuns, and common people, all shared alike, and that any
who showed the least resistance were instantly sacrificed to
their fury. They had a method of firing through the lock
of any door that happened to be shut against them, which
almost invariably had the effect of forcing it open; and
such scenes were witnessed in the streets as baffle description.


One man of our first battalion, I am told, had got a
hogshead of brandy into the streets, and, getting his mess-tin,
and filling it from the cask, and seating himself astride
like Bacchus, swore that every person who came past should
drink, be who he may. His commanding-officer happened
to be one who came that way, and he was compelled to[148]
take the tin and drink, for, had he refused, it is not improbable
the wretch would have shot him, for his rifle was
loaded by his side, and the soldiers had by this time become
quite past all control. Another, who had been fortunate
enough to obtain a considerable quantity of doubloons, put
them in his haversack, and was making his way out of the
town, but was induced, before he left it, to drink more
than he could carry. He laid him down somewhere to take
a nap, and awoke soon after without even his shoes, and not
only were the doubloons gone, but all his own necessaries
also.


In, short, a thousand of the most tragi-comical spectacles
that can possibly be imagined, might be witnessed in this
devoted city. The officers did all they could to repress
these outrages, but the soldiers were now so completely
dispersed that one quarter of them could not be found;
and indeed the only benefit almost that the officers could
render was, by each placing himself in a house, which generally
secured it from being broken open and plundered.
The different camps of our army were for several days after
more like rag-fairs than military encampments, such quantities
of wearing-apparel of all kinds were disposing of by
one set of plunderers to the other. But they were not
content with what they had brought out of Badajos; they
had now got such relish for plunder, that they could not
leave it off when driven out of the town.


A night or two after the surrender of the place, they
stole no less than eight horses and mules belonging to my
battalion, and took them to some of the other divisions,
where they sold them as animals captured from the enemy.
I lost on this occasion an excellent little mule, worth at
least L.20, and for which I of course never obtained a[149]
farthing. We used every exertion to discover both the
perpetrators and the animals, but without success.


An English army is perhaps, generally speaking, under
stricter discipline than any other in the world; but in
proportion as they are held tight while they are in hand,
if circumstances occur to give them liberty, I know of no
army more difficult to restrain when once broke loose. A
reason may perhaps be assigned for it in part. On such
occasions as this siege, where they were long and much
exposed to fatigue almost insupportable, to the most trying
scenes of difficulty and danger, which were generally borne
with cheerfulness and alacrity, they perhaps reasoned with
themselves and one another in this manner,—that as they
had borne so much and so patiently to get possession of the
place, it was but fair that they should have some indulgence
when their work and trials were crowned with success,
especially as the armies of other powers make it a rule generally
to give an assaulted fortress up to plunder. They
had also become quite reckless of life from so long exposure
to death; but an English army cannot plunder like the
French. The latter keep themselves more sober, and look
more to the solid and substantial benefit to be derived from
it, while the former sacrifice every thing to drink; and
when once in a state of intoxication, with all the bad passions
set loose at the same time, I know not what they will
hesitate to perpetrate.


The reader will judge of the state of our soldiers who
had been engaged in the siege, when Lord Wellington
found it absolutely necessary to order in a Portuguese brigade
to force the stragglers out of the town at the point of
the bayonet. At this time I think I was fairly tired of life,
so disgusting and so sickening were the scenes the few last
days had presented. I had also lost two of those for whom[150]
I had a great regard, together with several others of my
brother officers, all excellent young men, with still a greater
number wounded,—in all, in our fifteen companies, to the
amount of twenty-six,—and men in equal proportion. It
was indeed a trying time.


Notwithstanding what has been said above of the bad
conduct of the British troops on this occasion, I am fully
persuaded there is more humanity and generosity to be
found in the breast of an English soldier than in any other
in the world, for, except when inflamed by drink, I am
confident it would be most revolting to his feelings to be
ordered to proceed with cool deliberation to the execution
of such horrid butcheries as we read of in the armies of
other nations.—No! When calm and sober, no man acts
with more tenderness towards those in his power than an
English soldier. Bonaparte would not have found in them
the willing actors in his political tragedy in Egypt, when
he coolly fusiladed several thousands of his unfortunate
Turkish prisoners, as related by Sir R. Wilson.


If I may be permitted to make a few remarks on the
taking of this strong fortress, and of the conduct of the
besiegers, I would say that never in the annals of military
warfare was greater devotion shown by those of all ranks,
from the General to the common soldier. The arduous and
dangerous service of the trenches was cheerfully performed
by every individual whose duty called him there; but the
most conspicuous gallantry was manifested in the assault.
Conceive of the heroic Picton and his brave division escalading
a wall probably forty feet high, built on the summit
of an almost inaccessible rock, and with troops at the top
of all to oppose them as they reached its summit. It is
true the enemy were not numerous here, having only about[151]
200 men in the castle, but still one man in this situation
was able to destroy probably twenty of the assailants, by
throwing down a ladder after it had been set up; most of
those ascending would be crushed to death by the fall over
such a precipice. But he carried every thing before him,
and after establishing his own division in this commanding
situation, he either actually did, or prepared to move upon
the body of the enemy, who were defending the breaches.
General Walker also, who commanded a part of the 5th
division, bravely forced an entrance into the town at the
opposite side, overcoming every one of the numerous
barriers and obstacles which presented themselves; and
where he himself, in the act, I believe, of mounting the
rampart, received a most desperate wound. It was said, but
I know not how truly, that when he fell, the French soldier
who wounded him was about to repeat the blow, which
in all probability would have deprived him of life, but that
the General, whether intentionally or not it is not said,
made the masonic sign, which was understood by one of
the Frenchmen, and that he instantly interfered in his
behalf and stopped the blow. They say the General some
time after found out that his brave deliverer had been sent
to Scotland with his fellow-prisoners, and that he had him
searched for and handsomely rewarded, and, I believe, procured
him his liberty.


It is well known, I believe, to be the rule in all services
like the assault of fortresses, &c., that those, both officers
and men, who form the forlorn hope and the storming party,
are volunteers, these being services of extreme danger, and
which generally procure for the officers who survive a step
of promotion; but it might as well have gone (in the light
division at least) as a tour of duty, for on all occasions of
this nature, with only one or two exceptions, the senior[152]
officers of each rank insisted upon being sent on that duty.
Nay, in one instance this heroic feeling was carried to an
almost censurable excess. Lieutenant Harvest of the 43d
having been some time the senior of his rank in that regiment,
and there being a vacancy for a captain, he had been
recommended for the company; and although he had not
been gazetted, yet it had been intimated to him through
his commanding-officer that his name should shortly appear
as captain. Thus his promotion was perfectly secure; notwithstanding,
when volunteers were called for for the
storming party, he insisted on his right of going as senior
lieutenant; so over scrupulous was he that his permitting a
junior officer to occupy this post might be construed to the
detriment of his honour. He went, and fell; and thus not
only lost his company but his life, and by his too refined
sense of honour deprived another officer, probably, of that
promotion which would have been the consequence of going
on this duty had he survived.


Among the men also the same noble enthusiasm prevailed,
for he who was selected for this dangerous service
out of the superabundant numbers who always volunteered,
was envied by his comrades as truly fortunate. In fact, it
required a character for good conduct to entitle a man to
this honourable employment. Whatever, therefore, their
other faults might be, a want of bravery was not one of
them.


[153]


CHAPTER VIII.


The army leave Badajos on the 11th of April, and move into quarters
near the river Agueda, where they remain till the 11th of June—Advance
towards Salamanca, which, with the exception of three
forts, the enemy had evacuated—The forts invested—The main bodies
of both armies bivouack within a mile and a half of each other, in
the vicinity of Monte Rubio and Morisco—The forts of Salamanca
surrender—The main body of the enemy retire to Tordesillas—Movements
of the army.


On the 11th April we left Badajos to return again to
the neighbourhood of Rodrigo, the French having, during
the absence of our army from that frontier, made an irruption
into Portugal, and penetrated as far down as below
Castello Branca, completely ravaging the country. Our
first march was to Campa Mayor, where we were quartered
in the town. We next day reached Arronches, where we
bivouacked in a wood near it. The following day we marched
into Portalegre, and on the 14th, Niza; the 15th we
crossed the Tagus at Villa Velha, and moved on to Larnadas.
Here we began to perceive some of the effects of the
recent visit from the French; but at Castello Branca,
which we reached next day, the devastation they had caused
was truly deplorable. We halted here one day to refresh
the troops and get forward our supplies, and the next day
reached Escallas da Cima. Here we began to get very
close upon the rear of the enemy; it therefore became[154]
us to move forward with circumspection, for our force on
this side the Tagus was yet but small. We advanced,
however, and occupied successively St Miguel d'Arch,
Penamacor, and St Bartholomo, near Sabugal, which last
town we passed through on the 23d, and bivouacked that
night at Alfyates. The utter desolation of Sabugal was beyond
conception; filth and misery presented themselves in
every direction. It had been made a depot for provisions
by the French, I imagine, for on all sides the entrails and
other offal of bullocks and sheep polluted the atmosphere
by the abominable stench they caused, and had attracted
multitudes of vultures and other birds of prey, who had by
this time become horribly tame and familiar: one vulture
sat so long upon a dead horse as I was riding along the
road, that he allowed me to come near enough to make a
cut at him with my sword, as he stretched his enormous
wings to mount up from his prey.


On the 24th we reached Ituera, where we halted for two
days. We had now entered Spain, and it not being intended
as yet to commence another active campaign, we
moved into quarters near the river Agueda, my battalion
and the 43d occupying the village of La Encina, or "The
Oak." Here it was necessary that every exertion should
be used to re-equip and prepare the troops for service, as it
was intimated that another campaign would speedily commence.


All the winter and spring hitherto had been spent in active
service, consequently much required putting to rights
before we again took the field; all hands were therefore
employed to patch up and repair our clothing and shoes,
and to get every thing in good order when our services
were again to be called for.


While we were here, I began to experience some of the[155]
ill effects of a deep-rooted enmity which one of my brother
officers had conceived against me, though till now partly
concealed. I was unconscious of having given him any
cause for this; but he, without ever giving me any opportunity
for explanation, used all his influence in endeavouring
to injure me in the opinion of two of my superior officers,
who had hitherto been friendly to me; and not only
with them, but, I have reason to believe, with our acting
brigadier, whose mind, with the others also, he completely
estranged from me for a time. But though he misled them
then, they did not retain the ill opinion of me which his
misrepresentations had produced, for there are testimonials
from all three at the end of this volume. I was not so
fully aware of his dislike of me, till one day I was dining
at the table of our acting brigadier, when he and one of
those before noticed were also guests. I overheard him
telling this officer, (with an intention, I almost imagine,
that I should hear,) that I must be a bad man, for that I
was sitting silent when all the rest were talking, in order
that I might listen to their conversation. But I was the
junior officer there, and it did not become me to be talkative;
besides, I never was loquacious. I said nothing,
(although some may blame me for it, but I loved peace,)
trusting that one day such forbearance would not be forgotten;
but I felt it deeply, and mourned over it in secret
with great bitterness of spirit.


In this place also I began to receive very pressing letters
from the merchants in England, from whom I had purchased
a quantity of goods when last at home, but which, for
want of transport, could not be got up to the army in order
to their being disposed of; and, in short, scarcely a post
arrived that did not bring some unwelcome and distressing
tidings. I had purchased a fine mule in place of that stolen[156]
from me at Badajos, for which I had given about £30.
I sent him down to Lisbon with my batman, to bring up as
many of the goods as the mule could carry; but he had not
been long gone till I had the mortification to learn that
this mule also was lost. The man said he had been stolen,
but I had every reason afterwards to believe that he had
sold him. Be it observed, I could but very ill afford losses
of this extent out of my pay and scanty allowances; but I
endeavoured to bear up as well as I could against these misfortunes,
although it is certain I was not able to bring religion
to my aid at this time of trial, for I had lived hitherto
in total neglect of that most momentous of all concerns,
and, although I endeavoured to amuse myself occasionally
by fishing in the Agueda, my mind began to be greatly
depressed.


About this time an order was issued for each British
regiment in the Peninsula to endeavour to enlist fifty Spaniards
to be incorporated in the regiment. I was sent in
company with another officer into the mountains of Gata,
not far from the city of Placentia. We were not successful,
for although we obtained the names of some who promised
they would follow us to La Encina, they never made
their appearance. However, the beauty and magnificence
of the mountain scenery amply repaid us for our trouble.
From this village also I had the pleasure of visiting, for the
first time, the lately captured fortress of Ciudad Rodrigo,
and some of my brother officers who had shared in the toils
and dangers of the siege, pointed out to me the most remarkable
scenes about it. Like Badajos, it had been battered
till practicable breaches were made to admit the besiegers,
and then stormed in the same manner, but its defence was
feeble compared with Badajos; and yet, to look over the
ground in the neighbourhood of the trenches, one would[157]
imagine it impossible for troops to have lived, so completely
was it ploughed up with shot and shells, each of the latter
generally making an excavation sufficiently large in which
to bury a horse.


Whilst we remained in these cantonments, the officers
of the division once or twice got up a sort of "pic-nic,"
every one contributing something towards the feast, which
was held in a large wood in the neighbourhood of Ituera.
On our way from La Encina to this assembly, we passed
over the ground where the 5th and 77th regiments had so
distinguished themselves in September 1811, against a very
superior force of the enemy's cavalry. The bones of the
combatants lay bleaching upon the plain, the flesh having
been very soon devoured by the innumerable birds of prey,
which appeared as if collected from every part of the Peninsula.
Indeed so numerous were the battles and skirmishes
which took place along this frontier, together with the offal
from the animals killed for the use of the armies, that they
were no doubt better fed than they had in general been accustomed
to.


But the period of our stay in this vicinity drew to a close,
and on the 11th June we broke up from our cantonments,
and passing the Agueda, the division assembled in a wood
about a mile or two in front of Rodrigo. While we were
here a rather remarkable phenomenon appeared about mid-day,
or soon after; the sun, which shone most brightly, and
the moon, with several stars, appeared all at the same time,
the latter being distinctly visible. This of course attracted
great numbers, and many were the sage remarks that were
made, some believing it ominous of disastrous events; and
indeed very shortly afterwards a circumstance occurred
which in some degree confirmed their prediction. A grenadier
of the 88th regiment (I think it was) had come over[158]
from his own division, to endeavour to prevail upon his wife,
who had deserted him and taken up with a sergeant of our
first battalion, to return with him, she having, as I understand,
left him with one or more children, the first of their
marriage, which he was anxious she should come and take
care of. They had often, I fancy, quarrelled, and he had probably
used her ill, but he was now desirous of a reconciliation,
and entreated her to return with him to his regiment.
He prevailed upon her to accompany him to some distance
from the bivouack, that they might the more freely discuss
the subject, for she had hitherto refused to agree to his request,
being probably better provided for by the sergeant than
she had been with him. While walking in a field close to
the wood in which the bivouack was situated, and arguing
the point with some heat, and she still persisting in remaining
where she was, he became so exasperated at her continued
refusal, that he, in a rage of jealousy and anger, drew
his bayonet and plunged it in her bosom. Her cries soon
brought people to the spot, who at once secured him, and
he was instantly committed to the provost prison tent, and
her body of course brought in and buried. Poor creature!
she was one of the gayest of the females which graced our
rural balls near Ituera only a short while previous, and had
often danced with old General Vandaleur on those occasions.
I believe he was not brought to trial for it, as her ill conduct
probably had been considered as in some measure palliating
what he did, and that he might be supposed to have
been irritated to a degree of madness when he perpetrated
the fatal act. I subsequently learnt that he was a brave
soldier, and that he afterwards fell in the hard-fought battle
of the Pyrenees.


We moved forward the next day in the direction of Salamanca,
halting on the 13th at Alba de Yeltes, on the[159]
14th at Sancho Bueno, the 15th at Matillo, in a large plain
in front of which we bivouacked, where were the most luxuriant
meadows I think I ever saw, the horses on our
arrival being literally up to their bellies in fine rich grass.
What a pity the natives know nothing of hay-making! This
fine herbage is permitted to stand there till it perishes, and
yet in the winter they are frequently very ill off for provender
for their cattle; indeed I do not exactly know how
they contrive to feed them in that season, but I know we
were always greatly put to our shifts to procure any sort of
long forage for our animals, being generally compelled by
necessity to resort to this grass, rotten and dead as it was.
I believe they use a considerable quantity of straw, which
they chop very short, and which in truth is no bad substitute
for hay; but when it is so very plentiful and so good,
common sense, one would imagine, would induce them to
preserve it.


Lord Wellington in the following season caused a considerable
quantity of hay to be made in Portugal, getting scythes,
&c. out from England, but we never returned that way afterwards
to reap the benefit of it. All this immensely rich
and extensive plain is in a complete state of nature—no
enclosures to mark the different boundaries of the proprietors,
should it have any, but where there are "landmarks,"
the mode of ancient days is resorted to.


On the 16th we moved forward to within about five miles
of Salamanca, and bivouacked near a range of low hills extending
from the Rio Valmuso (which we had just crossed)
to the city. In front of this place our cavalry fell in with
that of the enemy, with whom they had a petit affaire, and
had captured a few of them, who, in the afternoon, passed
our bivouack, on their way to the rear. We observed as they
passed that they wore long queues, which had an odd appearance[160]
in our eyes, the British army having for so many years
left them off.


Next morning we advanced towards the city. We had
gone, I think, about three miles, when ascending one of
those heights over which the road passes, we had a most
interesting view of this beautiful place. It seemed thickly
studded with elegant and highly ornamented spires, springing
from the numerous cathedrals and colleges, &c. which
it contained; but what heightened the effect was an immense
column of smoke rising from some magazines which the
enemy (not having time to carry off) had set on fire. We
feared it was but the prelude to the whole city sharing the
same fate, for their barbarous conduct in Portugal during
Massena's retreat, rendered it but too doubtful they were resorting
to the same mode of warfare here. They still retained
possession of a portion of the town, in which they had constructed
three forts; one very strong, and capable of containing
about 500 or 600 men; the other two were smaller, to
cover and act as supports to the principal one. In constructing
these works they had destroyed the greater part of the
colleges, and a considerable number of other public buildings,
besides several extensive streets which Salamanca had
formerly contained; but even now it was still a beautiful
and interesting city. One of these works commanded the
bridge, which rendered our crossing the Tormes here impracticable.
We were in consequence moved about a league
higher up the river, where we crossed by a rather deep ford.
However, all got safely over, and we halted for the night
on a small plain, a short distance from the ford, the main
body of the enemy having retired and left 800 men in the
forts before mentioned. These occupied but about one-third
of the town, of course the remainder was open and free, and,
as might be expected, every one was anxious to have a peep[161]
at this famous university. Consequently away a number of
us scampered, and soon entered the city, the inhabitants of
which were overjoyed to see us. The nuns were seen waving
white handkerchiefs out of their iron-grated windows,
and the Padres and other respectable inhabitants welcomed
us with a thousand vivas, embracing us, and using every
means of testifying their joy at our arrival.


I need not attempt to describe the place, for I am not
able, and it has so often been described that my reader will
not be disappointed at my declining to do it here; suffice it
to say, the buildings in general, and the religious edifices in
particular, were most superb; but the Goths had destroyed
the finest portion of the city.


The forts were immediately invested, and we went and
had a look also at them. They seemed remarkably strong,
having been constructed principally of hewn stones, taken
from the buildings they had destroyed; and on all sides of
them a space of perhaps two hundred yards or more was
cleared away to make room for the play of their artillery,
and to prevent a lodgement being made by the besiegers.


We next day moved from our bivouack near the ford, and
marched to the village of Aldea Secco, in front of which
our cavalry and the enemy had a rencontre, after which the
latter retired: this was about a league and a half in front of
Salamanca. Next day we were suddenly assembled in consequence
of the enemy, in great force, making his appearance
at some distance in front of our bivouack. We were
then removed from the plain, and took up a position on a
height called Monte Rubio, or Red Hill, a little to the right.
Soon after, also, the other divisions of our army began to
assemble on the height, and our Chief arriving on the spot,
every thing had the appearance of something serious being
about to take place.


Here also,[162] for the first time, I saw Don Carlos de Espagna
with his few followers. These were better clothed
and equipped than almost any other Spanish troops that I
had seen. The day passed over, however, without the French
making any attack, and without any movement being made
on our side, farther than putting the different divisions into
position as they arrived on the ground. The French were
continually receiving reinforcements, or rather their different
divisions were rapidly arriving in succession, when they
all bivouacked in the plain in front of us, at perhaps a mile
and a half distance, and near to the village of Morisco. This
they very soon gutted of every portable article, whether it
was food, clothes, furniture, or whatever they could carry
off; nay, they unroofed the greater part of the houses for
fuel for the troops, but this latter proceeding could not be
avoided, there being no wood near them. Englishmen may
well feel thankful that their dwellings have not been exposed
to such visitors, who, in half an hour, will convert a
comfortable and smiling village into a heap of ruins.


We remained in this position for some days, the two armies,
like two experienced pugilists, each waiting for the
other to strike the first blow, by which he would in some
measure lay himself open. It was not, however, Lord Wellington's
game to commence operations, seeing a part of our
army was then employed in the siege of the forts in Salamanca;
besides, it is said, when some one ventured to hint
that we should attack the enemy, that his lordship judged
it would make a difference of 3000 men less on the side of
the attacking army. I know not if this story be true, but
certainly great prudence was displayed on both sides. However,
the enemy had occasionally cannonaded us a little from
the first; but about three days after their arrival, they made
a very brisk and vigorous attack upon a conical hill immediately[163]
in front of our position, and a little to the right of
Morisco. It was defended by the seventh division, which
repelled the attack with great gallantry, driving the enemy
down the hill again with great precipitation. The 68th regiment
distinguished itself greatly, but in their pursuit of
the beaten enemy, they advanced too far into the plain, and
which the French observing, a forward movement was made
again by them, and before our people could recover the high
ground, Captain M'Kay and Lieutenant M'Donald, with a
considerable number of their men, were made prisoners.
Poor M'Kay received I know not how many bayonet wounds
on this occasion, I believe not less than ten or twelve, but
none of them very serious of course, or he could not have
survived. He, with the others, were taken into the French
lines, but he was so ill when they retired a few days after,
that they were obliged to leave him in Morisco. The enemy's
artillery played upon our line during the greater part
of this attack, and caused us some loss, but not of any consequence,
the horses appearing to have suffered more than
the troops.


The French seemed disappointed and annoyed at our
sticking so pertinaciously to the hills on this occasion, and
told M'Donald (from whom I afterwards had this information)
that it was only when we had every advantage on our
side that we durst give them battle. Our armies were, I
think, pretty nearly equal, each having perhaps about
40,000, but they were, I believe, superior in cavalry, and of
course the plain was the very ground for them. Marmont
seeing himself thus foiled, withdrew from before us, and
made a movement to his left, crossing the Tormes with a
considerable part of his force, and advanced on the other
side of the river towards Salamanca. Our heavy German
cavalry, under General Baron Back, opposed them here, and[164]
greatly distinguished themselves, driving the enemy's cavalry
from the field. Our army made corresponding movements
with the enemy, changing in parts our position.


Meantime the siege of the forts had been proceeding with
from the first day of our arrival, and as the distance from
Monte Rubio to the town was not great, several of us rode
in to see how the siege was progressing, as the Americans
have it. An attempt had been made to carry them by
escalade, but it had failed; General Bowes, who led the
attacking party, with several officers and men, having
fallen in the attempt. His lordship now deemed it necessary
to batter them regularly previous to another assault
being made upon them. Heavy ordnance was therefore got
into battery, which not only effected a breach in the smaller
fort nearest the principal one, but which also threw a considerable
quantity of hot shot into a building in the centre
of it, which served as a barrack to the troops, the roof of
which was presently set on fire, and the only shelter they
had was thus destroyed. They thus were compelled on the
27th to surrender prisoners of war.


It is not easy to describe the effect produced on those inhabitants
who lived nearest to the forts while the siege was
going forward. Just as I entered one of our batteries, which
had been established close behind a street, still occupied by
the people, one of our artillerymen was carried out shot by
a musket ball in the breast, and dead; the poor people when
he was brought out into the street assembled round his body,
and set up the most piteous lamentations imaginable. This
impressed me with the good feeling which must have existed
in their minds towards the English, for they are not a people,
as the reader will be aware, who are very susceptible of
horror at the sight of blood. A few hours after these forts
surrendered, I went to visit the principal one—the devastation[165]
caused by our hot shot on the house before mentioned
was awful. They had been obliged to make this their hospital
also as well as barrack, and it was really lamentable to
see the poor wounded Frenchmen lying there in a house that
was literally falling about their ears, the roof having been
completely fired, while burning beams and rafters were continually
dropping upon these poor helpless beings. A French
surgeon was still in charge of these men, and he had the
politeness to show us all over the fort. As it had appeared
from the outside, it was in reality remarkably strong, and
the place where our people had made an attempt to escalade
it, was pointed out to us; he said it was heavily mined, and
that if our people had carried it by escalade, the mines would
most likely have been sprung. There was fixed immediately
opposite the gate a beam of wood, with holes bored in it,
and about twenty musket barrels fitted into them, so as to
command the entrance. These, I imagine, it was intended
to have fired by a train, as our people forced the gate, and
it would have been like a little volley, which must have
swept away the first of the assailants. The inhabitants
seemed greatly rejoiced when this business was concluded,
and peace once more established in their city, and they vied
with each other in showing us every mark of attention and
kindness, looking upon us as their deliverers.


If I am not mistaken, it was here where our illustrious
Chief played off a sort of innocent ruse upon some of the
Padres of the place. Soon after our arrival, and before the
attempt upon the forts had failed, he went to visit some
of the principal cathedrals, &c. which remained entire; the
priests of course were proud to show their churches on such
an occasion. He admired them greatly, and praised them
much; but what seemed particularly to attract his attention
was the extreme whiteness and cleanness of their walls and[166]
ceilings, although they were so very lofty. He enquired how
they managed to get up to them to keep them so; and the
unsuspecting Padre, without hesitation, led him to where
they kept the immensely long ladders by which they ascended.
This was just the very thing he wanted in his meditated
attempt upon the forts, and of course they, with others of
a similar description, were procured for that service. I will
not vouch for the truth of the above, although I heard it,
and I think it was not unlikely to have taken place. Indeed
had he made a formal demand for such things, it is not improbable
they might have denied they had them; but his
having seen them himself precluded this.


The forts surrendered on the 27th, and on the 28th the
enemy's main body retired altogether; for they soon learned
the fate of the besieged, as they had occasionally communicated
in some measure by rockets thrown up, and answered.
On the same day, our division moved forward to Castilbanos;
and the day following to Parada de Rubiallis. On the 30th,
we reached Castrillo de Aguerino; and on the 1st of July,
the town of Ravel-del-Rey. The next day, we moved on
towards Rueda, a considerable town. Here we found the
French in some force, their main body having retired across
the Duero to Tordesillas. The force in and about Rueda
consisted of both cavalry and infantry, and seemed to act as
a rearguard till the enemy's columns had time to file over
the bridge at Tordesillas. I was at some distance in front
of our division, the cavalry having preceded it, with whom
I went forward. As we approached the place, a pretty large
column of the enemy's infantry left it, and moved in the
direction of the bridge. Some of our horse-artillery at this
time came up, and fired Shrapnel shells into it, which did
considerable execution; one shell particularly having killed
and wounded great numbers, among whom was an officer,[167]
I think one of the handsomest men I had almost ever seen.
Our cavalry had a little brush with some squadrons of the
enemy a little further on in the plain, and captured a few
prisoners. One of these was the sergeant-major of one of
their hussar regiments, and of all the men I ever saw taken,
this man evinced the greatest trepidation and alarm. He
was absolutely like to sink to the earth, either from fear of
what awaited himself, or from the effects of the contest in
which he had been engaged. He had lost his cap in the
fray, and seemed like a person deprived of his senses.
He must, notwithstanding, have been looked upon by the
French as a good soldier, and a valuable non-commissioned
officer; for I learned afterwards that they sent in a request
that he might be exchanged for one of our sergeants whom
they had captured, as it was intended immediately to promote
him to the adjutancy of his regiment; of course this
was immediately complied with. The enemy retired to
Tordesillas, and we bivouacked near Rueda, a part of the
officers being permitted to go into houses in the town during
the day.


In this situation we remained for a day and a night; but
the sun being so powerful, the troops began to feel the ill
effects of the heat. They were accordingly brought into
the town and quartered in the houses. Here I experienced
more of that hostility before spoken of, on the following
occasion. In the number of houses allotted to my battalion,
there happened to be some of the best of them without
stables; but as there was not time to examine farther
than their outward appearance, this could not be known by
me. I therefore marked off the houses according to custom,
giving the best, in point of appearance, to the senior
officers in succession, and so on till all were served. It so
happened that the house allotted to this officer, who had[168]
nearly the best in the battalion given him, had no stable.
This I was, from the fore-mentioned cause, totally ignorant
of. Neither had I any stable in the house I occupied, but,
after some trouble, I had found one in a house occupied by
some of the men, where I had put up my horses and mules,
and went about the other duties of my station. In the
evening I was informed by my servant that my animals
had been turned out by this officer, and his own put in, in
their stead; and that mine were running loose in a yard,
he not caring what became of them. My saddlery, and all
the mule-apparatus, (precious articles in this country,) had
also been cast out. He was my senior officer, and I was
consequently obliged to bear this ill-treatment.


I mention this little circumstance, because it will show
with what determined and unrelenting hostility he pursued
me. Indeed it might not have been so trifling an affair,
for had I not heard of it in time, I might have lost every
horse and mule I possessed, which would have been one of
the most serious disasters that could have befallen me. I
could obtain no redress, for the captain before mentioned,
who commanded the battalion, and this officer, being on
rather unfriendly terms, he felt delicate in interfering in
my behalf. Indeed I have some reason to believe, that it
was partly on account of his enmity to this captain (with
whom I still messed) that he so persecuted me.


I own I was on this occasion strongly tempted to demand
that satisfaction which the rules of honour (as they
are termed) dictate, for I then had not a Christian feeling
on this subject; but after consideration and consultation
with some friends, it was feared he might take advantage
of his superior rank, not only to decline giving me that
satisfaction, but to report me, and thus destroy my prospects
for life, for he would have been compelled to the[169]
latter step had he not acceded to my demand; and from
the feeling he displayed towards me, there is not the least
doubt he would have rejoiced at such an opportunity of
ruining me. At this time, also, I had very few real friends
who would have stood by me; for his secret machinations,
and his having the ear of our brigadier, tended greatly to
estrange my former friends from me.


All this, as might be expected, tended powerfully to depress
my spirits, and to cast a gloom over a mind but too
susceptible of impressions of that nature; for there is not
any thing almost I would not do or submit to, to live on
good terms with those I associate with, and indeed with all
men. My mind was also much harassed at this time by
receiving very unpleasant letters from England on the subject
of the goods I before mentioned, and which had not yet
reached any farther than Abrantes; and as the men began
to be ill off for want of clothing, I obtained leave to proceed
forthwith to Abrantes, to endeavour to get both the clothing
and goods brought up to the regiment. I therefore set off,
accompanied by one servant on a mule, leaving the other
animals with the battalion, and proceeded on the 16th on
my journey, and passing through Ravel-del-Rey, I halted
for the night in a village where the seventh division was
quartered. As I knew some of the officers of the 51st, I
took up my abode with them for the night, and they indeed
received me very kindly. My friends spent the evening
very merrily; but, about midnight, they were called out
and put under arms, expecting shortly to turn in again, as
they told me; but they were marched off, and left the place
entirely, leaving only my servant and myself in occupation
of the town.


It seems that Marmont, with his whole force, had moved
from Tordesillas, and had threatened Lord Wellington's[170]
communication with Salamanca. In order, then, to keep up
a corresponding movement, and be ready to take advantage
of any false step the enemy might make, his lordship withdrew
his whole force, and began to retire as Marmont advanced.
Thus, in the morning, to my surprise, all the army
had left the neighbourhood, and as I was not certain who
the next visitors might be, I quickly decamped from a village
now left open to the enemy. I got on at a considerable
pace, as both my servant and myself were riding, and
on the 19th I reached Salamanca.


During yesterday's march I heard a considerable cannonade
to my right and rear, and I afterwards learnt that the
two armies had come nearly in contact with each other,
and some skirmishing and exchange of shots had taken
place. I did not stop in Salamanca longer than to draw
rations for ourselves and animals, being anxious to get on
as fast as possible, to try to get up the supplies while the
army remained near the frontiers, for it was still expected
they would advance into the heart of Spain, notwithstanding
the present partial retreat. I accordingly moved on
that evening to Matilla, and continued thus making stages
of thirty or forty miles a-day, and on the 25th I reached
Abrantes; but on the preceding day I was overtaken by
Lord Clinton, going home with the dispatches relative to
the glorious and decisive battle of Salamanca, which took
place on the 22d. His lordship was nearly worn out, being
actually asleep on his horse as he rode past me, for he had
never once stopped from the time he first set out. I learnt
the news from the person who accompanied him. It is
impossible to describe the joy this information created
among the Portuguese inhabitants of the village. I stopped
for the night at Gaviæ.


I found at Abrantes a detachment of our second battalion[171]
proceeding to join the army; but, to my sorrow, learnt
there was no chance of procuring transports for the clothing,
&c., for months to come. This was distressing information
to me, and of course added to the despondency already
preying upon my spirits; for the merchants' letters I was
continually receiving began to be most importunate, and
indeed attributing the non-remittal of their money to a
want of principle, and talked of reporting my conduct to
the Commander-in-Chief.


Want of a proper religious feeling, under such circumstances,
as might be expected, laid me open to great temptations.
I therefore, to drown sorrow, and because I had
always been too much addicted to it, began to give way to
intemperance, and, falling in with a number of officers of
very dissipated habits, I was led on to indulge in the most
vile and abominable of all vices, drunkenness, to an excess
almost incredible. But the gloom still seemed to thicken,
and a dark cloud seemed impending over me, of which I
was fully aware, and wrote home to my friends to that
effect. At length my birthday, the 4th of August, arrived,
and which must, as my unhappy companions in sin urged
on me, be kept with all due jollity. Accordingly, a dozen
of strong port-wine was procured, and we boozed away
most joyfully, the whole being drank by about four or five
of us. This produced constipation in the bowels, and had
nigh brought me to my end; but my mind was more affected,
if possible, than my body. About two days after this
debauch, on my retiring to bed at night, I felt an unusual
inclination to rise up and fall down on my knees, to offer
up my evening prayer; for, notwithstanding all my wickedness
and forgetfulness of God, I had not altogether abandoned
the form of saying my prayers at night, but it was
always after I lay down. I resisted this impulse, however,[172]
to rise and pray, and, after mumbling over my form without
the spirit, I endeavoured to compose myself to sleep. I
did sleep for a while, during which I was troubled with
some confused and incoherent dreams; but soon after awaking,
gracious God! what were my feelings then? Despair,
black despair, had seized upon me. I rushed out of bed,
and rolled upon the floor like one distracted, as indeed I
was. Oh! what would I then have given that I had never
been born, or that I could cease to exist! Had it been possible,
by throwing my body into the flames, to annihilate for
ever my consciousness of being, how gladly would I have
done it! But no—the terrors of the Lord were upon me,
and drank up my spirits; and no one who has not been in
a similar situation can form the most distant idea of the
misery which preyed upon me. The pains of hell got hold
upon me, and hope seemed for ever to be shut out from my
mind. I believed I had sinned past all redemption; that
the mercy of God could not possibly be extended to me;
and of the efficacy of the Redeemer's blood I knew nothing.
Oh! this was a time much to be remembered by me, for
none but He who afflicted me, and my soul which bore
the affliction, knows what I then suffered!


At length the morning came, but with it no comfort for
me. One of my sinful and dissolute companions came to
see me, but he seemed greatly shocked at the recital of my
woful tale, and I believe then formed for himself resolutions
of amendment, which I fear, poor fellow, he never was able
to fulfil. He did not long survive, but was shortly after
called to his awful account, whilst I am spared,—a monument
of the long-suffering mercy of God. Amongst all my
companions in error and wickedness, I could not procure a
Bible, and, as a proof of the ungodly state I was then in, I
had not one myself. This poor friend, however, had a[173]
Prayer-book, which he lent me, and out of which I eagerly
sought for comfort and hope, but in vain, for all was against
me. Yes—and all who make God their enemy, will find in
the hour of need, that every other creature and thing will
fail to yield them comfort; but I had sinned too deeply and
too perseveringly to find peace speedily. Oh! in what
black array did the sins of my whole life pass before me,
and how did I sigh for annihilation; or, if I could in any
way atone for my wickedness, if I could but go and bury
myself in a cave or den of the earth, and forego for ever all
intercourse with mankind, how easily and how cheaply did
I then conceive I should purchase pardon and peace! But,
alas! I knew nothing of the way of reconciliation with an
offended God, although I had been duly instructed in my
youth. I was in such agony of mind that I scarcely heeded
my body, but was prevailed upon to have a surgeon, who
administered what he considered necessary, but without
effect. My bowels had ceased to perform their functions,
and this no doubt would greatly affect my head; still, although
this, as a second cause of the distraction of my mind,
was easily discoverable, yet the great first cause, not only
of my disorder, but of all its effects, was the God against
whom I had so grievously sinned, and from whom alone I
could hope for the removal of my present sufferings. But
hope was at this time banished from my breast, and I gave
myself up to all the agonies of a soul that is lost for ever;
but still I could not rest in this sad situation. I therefore
now determined to set off for Lisbon, in hopes that I might
obtain from the chaplain, who was stationed there, some
slight alleviation of my misery, for none but Roman Catholic
priests were to be found where I then was. I accordingly
set off, accompanied by my servant, but in such a
hurry, and so utterly regardless of all worldly concerns,[174]
that I left my baggage in my quarters, which was taken
care of by the friend before mentioned.


I started in the afternoon of the second day after my
attack. The sun was scorching hot above my head, but I
regarded it not, seeing there was a hotter fire within me;
indeed I believed I could not mortify my flesh sufficiently,
so blind was I at this time of the nature of atonement. My
feeling was, that I had an Almighty enemy over me; that
His eye was upon me for evil, let me go where I would;
and that I could not possibly escape from the destruction
which He would shortly inflict upon my soul. How gladly,
as I rode along, would I have solicited the rocks and mountains
to fall upon me, and hide me from His sight, did I
believe they could have availed for this purpose! But no—I
felt it was impossible, and that I must endure for a short
while longer the lighter punishment he had then laid upon
me; and by and by I must drink to the dregs the cup
of His everlasting indignation. O, sinners! be persuaded
to flee from the wrath to come, for indeed one of the
slightest terrors of the Almighty is enough to drive to distraction
the strongest mind, and to appal the stoutest
heart!


I arrived at Galigao, the place of my intended rest for the
night—and here I was attacked with ague and fever in addition
to my other disorder—this was the effect of my exposure
to the sun in so weak a state. But I cared not for my
body. I knew that would return to the dust from whence
it was taken. But oh! the never-dying soul—to think that
it should endure eternal and omnipotent wrath, overwhelmed
me with dread indescribable. My mind, it is true, was
affected by my disorder; but it could not be termed insanity
or madness, for I even now remember with great distinctness[175]
the feelings I then experienced, and those feelings remained
with me for a considerable time afterwards.


Here I felt myself extremely ill, and believed I could not
survive till morning. I consequently got my servant to
make down my bed in a corner of the room I occupied, with
his own near it, and told him to leave the candle burning,
for that my time could not be long. I was compelled to submit,
and quietly lay myself down, in dreadful expectation of
the fatal hour, and when, as I imagined, the infernal fiend
would be commissioned to seize and carry off my soul to its
abode of everlasting misery. I could not pray, nor had I
any the most distant hope that my sentence could be reversed,
for I fully believed it had been finally pronounced
by Him who changeth not.


During this woful night, I appeared to possess a sort of
second self, a being which existed and thought and reasoned
quite distinct from that me who was stretched upon the
floor, and which appeared to upbraid me with the misery it
was then suffering, and was still to suffer, for the sins of my
past abandoned life. I know not whether any other person in
despair ever experienced this feeling; but to me it was quite
obvious, for I remember distinctly the sin to which it more
particularly drew my guilty attention. Was not this the
soul which will exist when the body is dissolved, and may not
such an upbraiding take place between the body and the soul
when the former shall be raised to join the latter in the
judgment? But the fact is, my soul was that night as it
were on the point of taking its departure from the tenement
of clay, and seemed strong to endure the everlasting
wrath of God.


I do not know whether I slept any during this dreadful
night; but morning came, and with it a certainty that I was
still in this world, but without the hope that this might have[176]
been expected to produce. I felt as in a fire, yet I scarcely
durst put my burning hands into the water my servant
brought me. I felt convinced that I had forfeited all claim
to any thing like blessings, and that curses, both in body
and soul, were alone my due.


Ill as I was, however, I proceeded on my melancholy
journey, not with any hope that a minister of religion could
give me any relief, but a drowning man will catch at a straw.
Oh! how strong, how awfully strong, did my soul appear
at this time, to endure the tremendous wrath of Omnipotence,
whilst my body seemed fast sinking into its original
element!


I reached Lisbon in two days from this time, having taken
a boat at Santarem. I ate nothing, with a trifling exception.
I had no inclination for food, nor did I think I ought,
for the reason before given; my only sustenance was a little
water which I kept in a bottle, and with which I now and
then moistened my parched lips.


I arrived at Lisbon about daybreak in the morning, and
proceeded as well as I was able to a friend's house, and
knocked at the door; but shocked indeed were he and his
wife, when they saw me standing below, more like a ghost
than an inhabitant of this world. Indeed it is not easy to
describe my looks at this time; there must have been much
of that spiritual misery depicted in them which a confirmed
despair no doubt produces. They took me in, and after
hearing my woful tale, prepared to do for me the best that
lay in their power; they gave me their own bed, taking a
pallet for themselves, and treated me as if I had been their
brother. He, poor fellow, is no more, but his beloved and
kind partner still lives, and may she always enjoy that happiness
she seemed so desirous of contributing to on this occasion,
and everlasting happiness hereafter! As soon as it[177]
could be conveniently done, the clergyman was sent for,
and also a medical officer, although from neither had I any
hope. But, alas! from the former, although a kind and sympathizing
man, I derived but little benefit. He did not
direct me to the only source of a sin-sick being's hopes, the
Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world. He
made my hopes to centre too much in my own resolutions
and after-doings. No doubt, as my sins had been enormous
and flagrant, my repentance ought to be proportioned; but
when he saw me bowed down under an indescribable sense
of guilt, oh! had he, like Paul to the jailer, pointed me to
the Saviour, how unutterably precious and acceptable would
it have been to my soul! I do not remember that any one
character in scripture is described as having felt more fully
and more keenly the sinfulness of sin, and of its consequent
danger to the soul, than I did at this time. How thankfully
would I have accepted the mode of salvation pointed out in
the gospel; for indeed I was but too much (as all natural
men are) inclined to expect pardon and happiness from the
things which, if God spared me, I intended to perform. But
He only knows best. This kind gentleman wrote me out
prayers, and seemed much interested in my welfare; notwithstanding,
the gloom of despair still hung heavy on me,
and at length; and when the kind medical friend was enabled,
after repeated efforts, to procure me some relief, I felt as if
it was only the prolonging of my existence, in order that I
might fill up the measure of my iniquity. This, I am now
fully persuaded, was a suggestion of the Father of Lies, in
hopes probably of prevailing upon me to adopt the awful and
miserable resolution of Judas to get rid of life.


I thank God this was the only temptation of that nature
which he permitted me to be exercised with; for I felt no
inclination even in my darkest hours to commit suicide,[178]
fully believing that the utmost of my sufferings here could
bear no proportion to those of the damned in hell. I consequently
had no inclination to hasten them by rushing into
eternity; this, it is evident, was of the merciful goodness of
the Lord, and for which I am bound to be truly thankful.


I continued in this state of mind for several months, and
could not, with all my reading, praying, and doing, find
peace. My reading and praying seemed to me more like an
irksome task, than an exercise in which I took delight. I
had formed a resolution from the first to retire from the service,
where it appeared to me I was exposed to so many
temptations; but here the experienced Christian will perceive
how erroneous were my views, and I think feel pleased that
I never fully effected my purpose, although I made preparations
for it. Indeed I could not well feel certain that I
should act right by retiring from the post to which God's
providence had appointed me, although my firm determination
was to live devoted to Him. But, alas! how wofully
have I failed of maintaining that resolution!


My health now gradually improved, under the kind and
fostering attentions of my warm-hearted host and hostess,
and it became necessary that I should resume my station at
Abrantes, which I did, in hopes of being able to obtain transport
from thence, although the army was at this time in
the neighbourhood of Madrid. But after returning to Abrantes
I suffered a relapse, and was again brought to the
borders of the grave, my mind still deeply impressed with
my former ill forebodings, although not quite so distressing
as before. I got my servant to read to me while I lay groaning
on the floor, for I could not bear to sleep in a bed at
this time, but felt little comfort from his endeavours, the
Scriptures being at this time "a sealed book" to me; so true[179]
is it that till the grace of God dispels our darkness we have
no light in us.


I think it is probable that some of my readers, on perusing
this part of my narrative, will be inclined to say,
"surely this man must have been an uncommon and atrocious
sinner, above all others, or he never would have suffered
thus." I acknowledge with shame that I have been a
most abominable and vile sinner, deserving of all the Lord
laid upon me, and much more, for I was, and am, fully deserving
of hell fire; and should that be my portion (as,
through the merits and sufferings of my Saviour, I have a
humble hope it will not be), I must acknowledge the kindness
and justice of God, although I perish for ever. But I
would say to such readers, as our Saviour said to the Jews,
that "except ye repent, ye shall likewise perish." Others
may be inclined, on the contrary, to say, that all this was
merely the effect of disease, and not at all to be resolved
into God's hatred of sin and punishment of it in this instance.
I acknowledge that it was the effect of disease. But
when God laid that disease upon me, He knew what effect
it would produce upon my mind; consequently, both disease
and mental agony came from Him; and, because I knew it
came from Him, "I held my tongue and said nothing."
And I have now, and I hope shall have for ever, the greatest
cause to bless His holy name for this, as one of the greatest
mercies He ever showed me, for having thus taught me
to know how evil and bitter a thing sin is, and to set a juster
estimate upon his favour. He thus taught me also to value and
love the Saviour, who alone can deliver me from the punishment,
the power, the pollution, and the love of sin, and
to make me happy for ever. Blessed be His holy name, for
He has done to me all things well, and I humbly hope to
enjoy His favour for ever.


During[180] my stay at Lisbon, my batman, whom I before
mentioned as having lost, or rather sold, my mule, and who
had here rejoined me to take care of the horse and mule I
had with me, either from remorse, or some other cause,
made an attempt to cut his throat, and succeeded so far as to
sever the windpipe, I believe, but did not quite effect his purpose.
He was found in a field near Lisbon bleeding nearly
to death, and brought into the hospital, where, with great
care, and after some time, he recovered. Indeed 1812 was
a sickly year, and many were affected strongly in the mind,
several having committed suicide, I believe.


While I lay here ill the second time, I received a letter
from the regiment telling me that the paymastership had become
vacant, the poor old gentleman with whom I returned
to England last year, having come out again to the Peninsula,
and got as far as Rodrigo on his way to the regiment,
and there, being attacked with the same disease I had
suffered so much from, died; and that as General Stewart,
our colonel, had arrived at Lisbon, I was to go and wait
upon him, and that letters would be written from the regiment
requesting him to recommend me for the situation.


I with great difficulty again reached Lisbon, and waited
upon the general, but to my great mortification I found the
promised letters from the regiment had never been received,
and that another person had, in consequence, been recommended,
he being the son of the late paymaster, and had
applied some time before. My disappointment did not prey
upon my mind, for at this time I set very light indeed by
the good things of this world, and felt conscious that I
already possessed much more than I deserved. I was compelled
through illness to remain again in Lisbon some time,
but found great difficulty to obtain permission from the
commandant for so doing. My general, however, procured[181]
me leave to stay till I should be able to resume my post at
Abrantes. Here, not only myself, but all the officers who
were then in Lisbon, and also at the army, suffered much
from the want of subsistence. I had at this period seven
months' pay due me, and could not obtain a dollar from the
public chest, although I wrote a note to the commandant
showing him how I was suffering from want of money.


The army had in the meantime pursued the French, as
before noticed, on one side to Madrid, and on the other to
Burgos; but the attempt to take the latter by storm having
failed, and the enemy having been able to assemble a more
numerous force than Lord Wellington had before it, he was
obliged to retire from both those places to the frontiers of
Portugal. The division from Cadiz, the siege of which having
been raised by our forward movement in summer, had joined
the army at Madrid. Much was suffered, I understand,
during this retreat, the troops having been exposed to great
privations, and the weather being exceedingly wet and unpleasant.
My division, after the retreat, took up its
quarters again in the villages on the Portuguese side of
Rodrigo—my battalion being stationed at the village of
Espeja. The army, as might be expected from the late
severe and harassing service they had been engaged in,
began to be extremely ill off indeed for want of clothing,
many of the men being nearly quite naked; in consequence,
the most pressing orders were sent from head-quarters to
use every means possible to have the supplies immediately
forwarded, for Abrantes at this time contained stores belonging
to almost every regiment in the army. My health
having been considerably improved, I again returned to
that depot, and, after waiting a few weeks, the means of
transport were at last given me by the commissary there.
I need not say with what alacrity I prepared for and commenced[182]
my long wished for journey. I had got a sufficient
escort assigned me, from a detachment of our men being
about to join the regiment.


We started about the beginning of January 1813, and
proceeded on our route by way of Niza, &c. I had been
obliged to buy another horse from some cause which I do not
now recollect, but when we were leaving the town just
named, I found, on turning out to move off, that a large
nail had been driven right up into the centre of one of
his feet. Whether this was done accidentally, or by design,
I never could learn, but the consequence was the
loss of the horse. I had great trouble also to keep the
convoy, which consisted of about a dozen bullock carts, with
as many soldiers as an escort, together; the drivers, if they
were not strictly guarded, very often made their escape,
taking their bullocks with them during the night, and
leaving the cart in our possession, glad, I dare say, that they
got off so cheaply, for they seemed to have a great antipathy
to go with us. I was therefore compelled to collect them
all together near Castello Branco, and making the soldiers
load their rifles before them, told them as well as I was able
that they had orders to shoot the first who attempted to
desert with his bullocks. This had a good effect, for I believe
we lost no more till we reached the regiment; but, as we
approached the frontiers of Spain, several of the drivers ran
away without their cattle, preferring the loss of both bullocks,
cart, and payment, rather than enter that country, of which
the peasantry in general seemed to have a great dread.
Those who stuck by us to the last, were rewarded with the
bullocks and carts of the deserters; but I think we did not
take more than two or three out of the twelve to the regiment,
the rest had all made their escape. Nothing can be
conceived more tiresome than travelling with such a convoy.[183]
The carts are all constructed upon the principle of the Irish
car; that is, the axle rolls round with the wheels, they being
firmly united; consequently the creaking noise created by
the friction is loud and most unpleasant, and they have no
idea of grease or tar to diminish this, but believe in many
parts, if not in all, the noise to be a sort of holy noise,
which keeps the devil from them. I found, in removing
these stores, that great robberies had taken place upon them,
several of the bales having been opened while on board ship,
great quantities of goods taken out, and their place filled
up with old transport bedding, &c. I found it necessary,
however, to endeavour to bear up against all this, for my
mind would not suffer me to dwell too much upon such
misfortunes. At length I arrived at the regiment, where
indeed I was a welcome guest, for they were greatly in need
of all kinds of equipment.


The officer who had rendered my life so unhappy before,
had left the regiment, and gone into another far distant
from my present place of abode, for which I was truly
thankful, and his absence I found produced a great change
in my favour; for every one seemed glad to see me, and
sympathized with me in my late alarming illness; in fact,
the face of things was entirely changed for the better. I
myself had benefited much by my late chastisement. I had
learned to think meanly of myself, and to be kind and
submissive to all to whom I owed submission; a virtue
which, I fear, I was but too deficient in before.


All things now went well with me. The goods, which
before had been such a source of uneasiness and trouble,
were rapidly disposing of, and thus the prospect of my soon
being able to pay my creditors became every day brighter.
But, in the mean time, what I had hinted at before took
place: one of the merchants had actually reported me to[184]
his Royal Highness the Duke of York. This might,
indeed, have deprived me of my commission, had his Royal
Highness been harsh with me; but he caused a letter to be
written to my commanding-officer, (now Sir Andrew Barnard,)
to call on me to explain why I had not remitted the
merchant what I owed him, and to account for my not
answering his letters, which he said I had failed to do for
several months. My answer was very simple, as the reader
is aware; but, with respect to the letters, I showed the
colonel one, in which the merchant acknowledged having
received one from me a short time previously. This also
was satisfactory, and I had moreover remitted him a short
while before L.300 of the money I owed him. The colonel
was fully satisfied, and wrote off to his Royal Highness
accordingly, and I heard no more of the business. Soon
after the captain, who had been acting as paymaster, was
obliged to return to England, on account of ill health.
After some necessary steps I was appointed to this duty, it
being an addition of 10s. per diem to my pay. According
to the army regulations, a person in my situation could not
be appointed acting paymaster; but a committee of three
captains was formed, who took all the responsibility of my
transactions upon themselves, giving me, as before said,
the whole 10s. per diem. This showed, at least, that they
were not afraid to trust themselves in my hands; for I might
have involved them deeply. In short, whatever I did
(almost) prospered, and a kind Providence seemed to smile
upon me; and I believe that from this to the close of the
Peninsular campaigns was the happiest part of my life. I
have reason, therefore, to bless God for his unbounded
goodness to me.


[185]


CHAPTER IX.


Preparations for the Field—Amusements in winter quarters—Grand
Review—Advance of the Army in pursuit of the Enemy—Come up
with their rearguard in the vicinity of Hornilla de Camino—Skirmishing—Encounter
with the 1st brigade of the Enemy, who are
beaten, and forced to retreat—Our Army advance in pursuit—An
affair between the rearguard of the Enemy and our 4th Brigade—Vittoria—General
Engagement—The Enemy defeated—Remarks.


I begin this chapter, through the mercy and goodness
of God, with brighter prospects than any I have written
hitherto; for though I was still ignorant of the peculiar
doctrines of Christianity, I believed God was at peace with
me, and, from my late dreadful sufferings for sin, I certainly
walked very circumspectly, and I believe I had also more
of the genuine feelings of a Christian, though not the
knowledge; for I was lowly in my own eyes, and loved all
mankind. In me was fully verified at this time that sublime,
but seemingly ill understood, saying of our Saviour's,
"Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth."
I now was meek and lowly, and I had friends in abundance,
and may truly be said to have possessed or inherited the earth,
for I had plenty of every necessary good, and, withal, peace
and contentment. I could not enjoy more had I been in possession
of more. Alas! how lamentable is it that chastisement[186]
should produce a better effect upon me, than love and
gratitude to God is capable of doing; for, to my shame be
it spoken, pride and selfishness now prevail much more in
my heart than they were able to do then; and I find it much
more difficult now to bring my mind down to that lowly
and contrite feeling which with God is so acceptable, and
with the possession of which only He promises to dwell.


As the officer whom I have had occasion so often to
mention owed me a trifle of money, I wrote to him, in as
friendly a manner as I could, hoping, now we were separated,
that his enmity would cease, and I was desirous of being at
peace with all mankind; for, as I said before, I never yet
knew why he was my enemy. He wrote back, with an
order for the money, telling me, he hoped never to hear
from me again, for that he was anxious to forget that such
a person had ever existed in the world. This, as might be supposed,
wounded my feelings deeply, but I remembered that I
had myself sinned as deeply against God, and that He might
raise up such instruments for my correction as seemed good to
Him. My feelings, therefore, towards this person were more
of regret and pity than of resentment, and I think I did not
forget to pray to God for him. Poor fellow, he has a good
while since been called to his account, and that in rather
an awful manner; he fell in a duel, but which (from all I
could learn) he was engaged in from the best motives, that
of endeavouring to prevent the seduction of a young female
belonging to his regiment. I hope he is at peace.


During our stay in winter-quarters every exertion was
made to put the troops in a proper state to take the field
again, so soon as the season was sufficiently advanced. While
we remained here also every sort of innocent amusement,
at least generally innocent, was had recourse to, both by
officers and men, not only to pass the time of inactivity[187]
with pleasure, but to keep up that readiness for action
always so necessary in a state of warfare. We accordingly
had races, balls, plays, and every other description of pastime
our situation admitted of. We in Espija established
what was termed a trigger club, each one in turn giving an
entertainment at his house, and at which, as the name would
imply, as much game was produced as our sportsmen could
procure. The plays were generally held at Gallegos, the
quarter of the 43d, and which were indeed got up in a surprising
style, considering the means of doing so. A walking club
was established in our 1st battalion, which was quartered at
Alamada; we were of course frequently favoured with the
company of its members, for they thought nothing of setting
out, each with a long pole in his hand, and walking twenty
or more miles to dinner. Thus harmony and a brotherly
feeling was promoted amongst the officers of the division,—a
thing of great moment where regiments have to act together,
as well as pleasant to all parties. Some of our people
also occasionally had a wolf-hunt, for these animals were
quite numerous in this part of the country; nay, so bold
were they when pressed with hunger, that they did not
scruple sometimes to enter our villages, and devour whatever
fell in their way that they could master. An officer
of ours had an ass or a mule torn to pieces one night while
standing in the yard behind his house. The mode of hunting
them was, to have a certain number with arms stationed
at the different passes in the wood, whilst a large party
of drivers scoured the wood in line, driving every thing
before them, when the animals, coming upon the armed
people, were shot; but I do not think they were at all
successful: it requires people accustomed to the business
to enable them to kill many. There is a premium given for
every wolf's head, but I forget how much it is.


I sometimes[188] took a trip to the Azava, or the Agueda, on
a fishing excursion; but I was ill off for fishing tackle: the
hooks the Spaniards make are the clumsiest things imaginable,
and would not, I am persuaded, be made with less dexterity
by the natives of New Zealand. Those which we
were forced to use for fly-hooks had a hole or eye at the
top, like the crook which you will sometimes see in a
butcher's shop, intended to be hung upon another, which
was formed by turning the wire down again, and through
this they run their line; besides, they almost invariably
broke, and I have been wofully tantalized sometimes by having
the hook break off the only fly that the fish were
taking; notwithstanding, I caught some very fine trout
in the Agueda, this river abounding with them. I
sometimes also caught barbel in that river; but it was
literally swarming with a sort of roach, or what some of our
people called rock-fish: they generally feed from some
stuff they find on the large stones. But as the season approached
which was to call us to the field, a review of the
whole division was ordered to take place on the plain of
Espija, and which, I think, was as brilliant a spectacle
of that description as it was possible for 5000 men to make.
Every regiment was in high and complete order, the whole
having by this time been fully equipped for the campaign:
the movements, too, were beautiful, and executed with
great precision and promptitude, and, as might be anticipated,
called forth the unqualified approbation of our illustrious
Chief.


A new and different arrangement was made this campaign
with respect to both officers and men in their field-equipment.
Experience had proved that constant bivouacking
injured the men's health, as the mode they had
adopted last year, though very ingenious, was not calculated[189]
to protect them sufficiently from exposure to the
weather. They had last campaign been ordered each man
to have loops sewed on at the corner of his blanket; thus,
when in the field, two of these were united, and spread over
two stand of arms set up at the ends for poles, and being
fastened down at the other corners with bayonets, they formed
a sort of tent, into which perhaps four men might creep;
but then they had thus only two blankets to serve as a bed
for the whole four men; consequently they would, in cold
weather, be much exposed. This campaign each company
received four tents; thus allowing about twenty men for
each, and the officers of each company had one among them,
and the field and staff officers in like proportion. These
were carried on mules, which before had carried the camp-kettles;
but these being exchanged for smaller ones, the
men carried them in turns upon their knapsacks. Thus it
rarely happened that the tents were not on the ground
nearly as soon as the men; but strict orders were given always
to encamp out of sight of the enemy, if practicable,
that they might not be able to calculate our numbers.
How very different from the ancient mode of encamping!
each of which being more like a town laid out with regular
streets, &c. &c. But war was a very different thing in those
days, and could Marlborough have risen to see one of our
straggling and irregular mountain camps, I know not what
his feelings would have been: he would, I fear, have
thought we had sadly degenerated.


All being now ready for opening the campaign, a part of
the army, under Sir Thomas Graham, crossed the Douro
low down in Portugal, and proceeded up the right bank,
while we, with Sir Rowland Hill's corps, moved forward in
the direction of Salamanca and Toro. On the 21st of
May, our division broke up from its cantonments, and[190]
assembled at the village of St Felices el Chico, a few miles
below Ciudad Rodrigo, each regiment having had the
Agueda to ford in its march to this camp. Our division at
this time consisted of the following corps:—viz. the 1st
brigade, under General Kempt, was composed of the 43d
regiment, 17th Portuguese, and the 1st and 3d battalions of
my regiment; the 2d brigade, under General Skerrit, contained
the 52d regiment, 1st and 3d Portuguese caçadores,
and the 2d battalion of my regiment; one troop of horse
artillery, under Colonel Ross, was attached to the division;
the whole being under the command of General Charles
Alten. On the 22d, we moved on to Martin del Rey, near
the river Yeltes, by the side of which we encamped. On
the 23d, we marched to and encamped near San Munoz,
where the division had, I understand, suffered considerably
during the retreat of last year, from the French having
gained ground upon them, and severely cannonaded them
from a height near this village. On the 25th, we moved
on to Robliza, having halted the day before to enable the
other division to come up with us. We next morning
moved forward to the little river Valmuzo, a few miles on
the Portugal side of Salamanca, and alluded to in my former
advance. Here we halted for three hours during mid-day
and cooked, and in the afternoon advanced to the ford of
El Canto, on the river Tormes, and about two leagues below
Salamanca. Here we encamped for the night, and remained
next day also. Lord Wellington, with some cavalry
we understood, had entered Salamanca, where only a small
force of the enemy's cavalry had been found, and which retired
immediately; but I believe some little skirmishing
took place between the parties. On the morning of the
28th we forded the Tormes, and advanced towards Aldea[191]
Nueva de Figuera, which we reached late in the day, the
distance being about twenty-four miles.


While we lay at El Canto, a few of our officers visited
Salamanca, in hopes of meeting some of their old friends of
last year; but not a viva greeted their ears on entering the
city; a sort of suspicious look of recognition was all they
could obtain from those people, who had received us only
last summer with such extravagant demonstrations of joy.
No doubt they had been made to suffer for their former expressions
of attachment to us, for the French had in almost
every place their partisans, who doubtless would not fail to
give them, on their return, an account of the manner in
which the English had been received, and the contributions
would be laid on accordingly.


We remained at Aldea from the 28th May to the 2d of
June, waiting for information from the corps under Sir
Thomas Graham, it being intended to form a junction at or
about Toro, where it was expected the enemy had a considerable
force; this was distant from us about thirty miles.
While we continued here, I took a trip to Sir Rowland Hill's
division, where I had a townsman, an officer in the 28th,
but had not the satisfaction of seeing him. I had other
friends in that division, however, with whom I and my companions
spent the day in great harmony and satisfaction, and
at evening returned to our camp, about four miles distant,
highly gratified.


On the 2d of June, we set off early in the morning, and
arrived at Villa Buena about mid-day, where we halted for
three hours to cook and refresh, after which we continued
our march towards Toro, which we reached in the evening,
but the enemy having destroyed the bridge across the Douro
at this place, we encamped for the night in some fields on
the left bank of the river. We learnt here that the hussars[192]
attached to Sir Thomas Graham's division had attacked a
corps of French cavalry soon after their having quitted Toro,
and with whom a very smart affair had taken place, the
enemy being completely routed, and about 150 prisoners
taken from them. Our cavalry, I believe, lost an officer on
this occasion, who fell into the hands of the enemy. Nothing
could exceed the miserable appearance of the horses
taken from the French on this occasion; they appeared really
half starved, although at this season there was plenty of
green forage to be had; they must either have been sadly
neglected, or have been doing exceeding hard duty.


The bridge having been rendered passable for the men,
the division crossed on the following morning, the horses
and mules fording the river. We left Toro immediately, and
moved on in pursuit of the enemy, and encamped that night
at Terra Buena. On the 4th, we reached the convent of
Espinar, and encamped on a height just over it. It was a
most picturesque and beautiful piece of country around this
convent, but itself appeared to have been lately rendered
uninhabitable. I believe the monks had been driven away
by the French, but not a soul remained to enquire of; all
about the building was desolation. We next day advanced
to the village of Muderra, and on the 6th to Amperdia, and
on the 7th we marched through the city of Palentia, and
encamped outside the walls, on the banks of the river Carrion.


Here the inhabitants evinced the same degree of enthusiasm
on our entrance as we had been accustomed to witness
in other large towns, till the French had taught them a little
more circumspection, and which the good people of Palentia
would have been most probably fully taught, had these
good friends of theirs ever got possession of their city again.
Some time after we had pitched our camp, and were strolling[193]
about the city, the lifeguards entered, and were of course
saluted with repeated vivas. One of the men, a rather country-looking
young fellow, cried out, "Ay, the folks be always
glad to see we lifeguards," happily supposing, no doubt,
that they were intended as a particular compliment to his
corps alone. All the country through which we had marched
for several days past, was one continued plain of waving
corn, mostly wheat of the very finest description. There
are no hedges or dikes, but, as before noticed, only landmarks
to divide the different fields, so that its appearance is
like an immense sea, stretching as far as the eye can reach,
the long corn undulating with the wind as the waves in the
ocean.


On the 8th we marched forward and encamped at the village
of Tamara, the weather having, from being exceedingly
fine, and indeed rather hot, set in extremely wet and cold,
and thus rendered marching very unpleasant. We next day
reached La Peña, (the name, it may be remembered, of the
Barossa Spanish hero,) the weather continuing very coarse
and stormy. On the 10th we continued to advance, and
marching through the village of Framosa, and passing over
a canal which crosses here, we halted for the night on the
right bank of the river Pisuerga, near the village of Lantadilla.
In all these late movements, we had experienced a
great deficiency of fuel for cooking and drying our clothes
when wet, neither forest nor bush-wood being to be seen for
days together, and indeed scarcely one solitary tree to be
met with—nothing but corn; so that we were occasionally
compelled to resort to the cruel and unchristianlike expedient
of pulling down houses to obtain the timber with
which they were built for the purpose of cooking, or we
must have eaten our food raw. This, however, was done in
a regular and systematic order, the Alcalde of the village[194]
pointing out such of the houses as were to be doomed to
the fire, and the troops taking no more than was absolutely
necessary. It is astonishing to me how the natives themselves
exist for want of this article of first necessity.


From this village we moved forward on the 11th, and
crossing the Pisuerga, marched on the town of Pallacio,
which we passed, and reached the village of Landrino, near
which we encamped for the night.


From the time we left Toro, the enemy had been gradually
retiring before us, having withdrawn his forces from
all the strong places on the Douro, and seemed concentrating
somewhere in the direction of Burgos or Vittoria. Excepting
our cavalry, no part of our forces ever had the satisfaction
of seeing a Frenchman hitherto during the whole
of this long and rapid march; but on the morning of the
12th, as we now approached Burgos, it was fully expected
that we should be able to get a sight of the fugitives; and
accordingly, after we had left our last night's quarters, and
marched a few miles in the direction of the city, a pretty
strong body of the enemy's cavalry was seen drawn out on
a high plain, a little above the village of Hornilla de Camiño.
These were supported by a division of infantry
formed in square, and occupying the outer edge of the high
plain facing the way we advanced, and apparently observing
our motions. On discovering this force, our division was
halted to give the cavalry attached to us time to ride forward
to reconnoitre, and ascertain more exactly the force
before us, than could be done while we were on the low
ground.


I rode forward with our cavalry, which, passing by the
enemy's square of infantry, approached the main body of
their cavalry. It not being, however, the intention of the
French to fight here, they slowly and orderly retired before[195]
us across the plain; but as we had left the square of infantry
nearly behind us, the guns attached to our cavalry turned
in that direction, for this body seemed indifferent about the
movements of our cavalry, and it was not till our division
began to ascend the hill that they evinced the slightest intention
of stirring. On seeing them, however, they quickly
decamped, and as they had to pass within 150 yards of the
position our guns had taken up, I imagined considerable
execution must have been done upon them before they got
out of our reach. But, strange to say, I believe only one
single man was knocked down by the great numbers of shot
fired at them. It must have been owing to the relative
situations of the two parties; they passed down a hollow
way which led from the high plain in the direction of the
Burgos road, and which covered them completely till they
came immediately below our guns, when it became a difficult
matter to depress them so as to bear upon the enemy's
square as they passed us. However the whole turned round
and gave us a regular volley, for, as we were so much above
them, there was no danger from their firing in square;
but this, although the shots flew pretty thick about us, was
not productive of any mischief that I remember. They retired
across the plain below us, pursued by another division
of ours which had advanced on our right, and between whom
and the French a pretty smart skirmish took place. So
soon as their infantry were clear from us, their guns opened
out from the opposite side of the river upon us on the
height, but, the distance being considerable, their shot did
little execution. It was evident this force was only left
here as a rearguard, to ascertain our movements and force,
&c. We encamped for the night near the road by which
we had ascended the high plain; but were awoke early
next morning by a tremendous explosion which shook the[196]
earth beneath us, although at the distance of 6 or 7 miles
from Burgos, the castle of which the enemy had blown up,
and retired altogether. We soon after commenced our march,
and, leaving that city to our right, made a long march in the
direction of the Ebro, and halted for the night near the
village of Tovar. The next day we moved on to Quintanajar,
and on the 15th, after a long march, we reached the Ebro,
and halted at the village of Puente Arrenas, situated in the
delightful valley of Veras. This is one of the most
picturesque and beautiful valleys in Europe, I dare say.
When you arrive at the brow of the high ground over the
Ebro, a sight breaks upon you all at once which is indescribably
grand and beautiful;—a large river rolling under you,
beyond which a rich and fertile valley, laden with the fruits
of a hundred orchards, with charming villas and farm-houses
dispersed through all the lawn; a stupendous bridge, of
I know not how many arches, leading you across this
magnificent river; and the whole closed by high and beetling
rocks jutting out of the high woody bank on the opposite
side. It really appeared like enchantment when we first
arrived within sight of it, from the long dreary plains we
had been so long traversing. Here, for the first time since
we entered Spain, did we meet with "manteca de vaca," or
"cow butter," all the other we had been compelled to use
hitherto for want of better, was what they call "manteca
de puerco," or "hog's-lard." The women who brought it
wore a quite different dress from those we had seen in the
parts we had passed through; the women had on generally
yellow stockings, with abundance of petticoats of red, yellow,
green, &c. &c., and were all very stout-made; they were, I
believe, from Asturias. Poor creatures, many of them
followed us with loads of butter, wine, cheese, &c. &c., even
into France, so pleased were they with the excellent prices[197]
their merchandise brought amongst us; indeed, we had been
so long debarred the enjoyment of butter and cheese, that
we would have given almost any price to get them sweet and
good. They carried their loads (and tremendous ones they
were) as the flesh-wives in Newcastle carry theirs, that is,
by passing a broad leather belt across the forehead and over
the shoulders, and so underneath the heavy load upon their
back. They were a civil and obliging race of beings,
and apparently much more industrious and cleanly than
the rest of their country people.


We left this delightful spot on the morning of the 16th,
following the course of the river upwards for about a league,
then turning short to the right, passed through an enclosed
country, and halted for the night at the town of Medina
del Pomar. This is a considerable-sized place, in which was
a nunnery, the inmates of which greeted us with hearty
welcomes and vivas, with waving of handkerchiefs, &c.,
through their strongly iron-grated windows, where they
more resembled criminals of the worst description shut up
in a strong prison, poor things, than people who had devoted
themselves to the service of their Maker. Next
morning, we moved forward through a country almost without
roads; we were, in fact, crossing the country in order to
get nearer to the great road leading from Madrid to Vittoria,
and on which the enemy's army was then retiring. We
encamped for the night, after a fatiguing day's march, on a
woody height near the little river Loza. We took the high
ground on this occasion for our encampment, although extremely
inconvenient and uncomfortable, being among
stumps and brushwood, where there was scarcely room to
pitch our tents; this was in consequence of being in the
neighbourhood of a considerable force of the enemy, which
was retreating, as before noticed, along the great road.


The next morning,[198] the 18th of June, we started pretty
early, and calculating that we should this day come in contact
with the above force, we marched in such a manner as
to be ready, when that event took place, to take advantage
of any favourable circumstances that might offer. We had
in our front a squadron of Hussars belonging to the German
Legion, and which were generally attached to our division.
About mid-day the squadron in front of us reached the
village of San Millan, where the road on which we were
then marching, and the great road on which the enemy was
retreating, unite; the latter descending from a high tableland
just above the village, and passing a narrow defile
between two high rocks. Our cavalry, on reaching this
village, descried the advance of the French, composed also
of cavalry; and what was not a little singular, they also were
Germans in the French service. Our brave Hussars instantly
charged those of the enemy, and immediately overthrew the body
opposed to them, and in the charge captured several
men and horses, which they brought in prisoners.


By this time the head of the division had reached the
spot, (my 1st battalion leading,) which in a few minutes got
warmly engaged with the enemy's voltigeurs, a considerable
number of whom had advanced to oppose us, in order
that the main body of their division might be enabled, under
cover of their fire, to pass through the village on the way
towards Vittoria. Our people, however, pressed them so hard,
that the whole of their leading brigade was obliged to join
in the action. At this moment our illustrious Chief came galloping
up; for, whenever any thing was to be done, he was
always present. He had also taken care to have our 4th division
moved so as to arrive at the village of Espija, a town
about a league in front of us on the great road, nearly about the
same time, so that, should the French contrive to get away[199]
from us, they might fall into their hands. He immediately
sent me off to the leading company of our people who were
engaged, for the guide they had had with them, in order
that he might conduct his lordship to Espija; but that
was no place for a Spanish peasant who had neither honour
nor glory to gain, and he had accordingly made his escape
the moment our folks got into action. His lordship instantly
dashed off without a guide, while our two battalions, that is,
the 1st and 3d of my regiment, kept advancing upon the
enemy, and fairly drove them through the village, being
supported by the other regiments of the brigade, but who
had not any occasion to come into action.


The first brigade of the enemy being thus beaten, retreated
along the great road in the direction of Espija, leaving
their second brigade and all their baggage to their fate.
These latter being pressed by our second or rear brigade, and
seeing us in possession of the village, and the road they had
to pass, immediately broke in all directions, and dispersed
themselves in the mountains over the village, each man
making the best of his way. This their baggage could not
do, and it consequently fell into the hands of the captors,
an easy and valuable booty; but although my brigade, by
beating and dispersing the enemy at the village, had been
the principal cause of its capture, yet those whose hands it
fell into had not the generosity to offer the least share of it
to us, but divided it amongst themselves.


During the skirmish in the village, a French hussar
chased one of our officers several times round one of the
trees growing by the side of the road, and repeatedly cut at
him with his sabre, and it is likely would have cut him
down at last, had not the officer seen a rifle lying near, belonging
to a man just killed; and luckily it was loaded when
he picked it up. He waited for the Frenchman, and coolly[200]
shot him through the body, and instantly seized his horse
as lawful prize; had the rifle missed fire he was gone. We
had not rested long after this brush till we heard a firing in
our front, where indeed it was expected. The troops which
had just left us, I imagine, had been attacked by the 4th
division, and we, the 1st brigade, were instantly ordered to
their support should they need it; but before we reached
Espija, the enemy was completely beaten, and had retired
in the direction of Vittoria. We had to retrace our steps and
join our other brigade, and encamped for the night in the
neighbourhood of San Millan.


Our loss on this occasion was but trifling, considering
the smartness of the affair. An officer of my regiment, of the
name of Haggup, a countryman of my own, received a most
dangerous wound in the abdomen, of which it was feared he
would die, but he soon after completely recovered. An aide-de-camp
of the French General was wounded, and taken prisoner,
but he soon after died, poor fellow. Along with the
captured baggage were a number of Spanish ladies, who had
been attached to the French officers to whom it belonged,
but they did not appear over faithful to their protectors, for
most of them, I believe, preferred remaining in the hands
of their captors, to being forwarded after their beaten and
now ill-provided former companions; such is generally the
fidelity to be expected from that sort of people.


On the 19th we advanced by the same road the French
had retired, till we reached the town of Salinas, where there
were very extensive salt-works, as the name of the place denotes.
We encamped for the night near the village of Pobes,
on a small rivulet named Bayas, I believe. Near the end
of our march to-day we had a view of the enemy's rearguard,
as they rounded the end of a mountain, which lay
immediately before us, and over which the road to Vittoria[201]
passes. After rounding the mountain, this part of the
enemy's force fell in with our 4th division again, which
had been moved forward from Espija by another road. A
very smart skirmish was the consequence, which we distinctly
heard, and in which a good number fell on both sides.
The French retired from hence into their position in front
of Vittoria. During the next day, while we halted here, it
began to be whispered that the enemy had concentrated his
forces in and around Vittoria, which was distant from us
perhaps about ten or a dozen miles, and that the divisions
of our own army had that day approached nearer together,
which indicated a determination on the part of our Chief to
try his hand with King Joseph, should he be bold enough
to stay where he then was.


Many, of course, and various would be the reflections
which occupied the minds of the different individuals composing
the two armies; but I can speak from experience, that
those are of a much more pleasing nature which a consciousness
of superiority and a good prospect of success inspires,
than those which a retreating army are compelled to entertain.


Pretty early in the morning of the 21st, we fell in and
moved forward by the way the French rearguard before-mentioned
had taken, and after having passed the end of
the mountain and descended into the valley on the other
side, we saw evident proofs that the affair between our 4th
division and the French, above alluded to, must have been
pretty warm. We continued to advance on the road to Vittoria,
till, on ascending a rising ground, the French army
appeared in position immediately in front of us. It was a
noble and animating sight, for they appeared as numerous
almost as grashoppers, and were posted as nearly as I can
recollect in the following order. Immediately before us ran[202]
the river Zadora, passing from our left and front to our
right and rear. In the centre of an extensive plain rose a
pretty lofty conical hill, from which extended to their left
a sloping plain, through which the great road lay, and terminated
by a long range of mountains, stretching from
Puebla de Arlanzon, just above the river, to a considerable
distance beyond Vittoria. The city was shut out of our view
by the conical hill before mentioned, and was distant from
it about four or five miles; to the right of this hill, along
the bank of the river, it appeared broken, and not easily approachable.
On the face of the conical hill, and to its very
summit, it appeared as thickly set with troops as if they had
been bees clustering together; it was also thickly studded with
batteries and other field-works. On the plain between that
and the long range of mountains, the troops appeared to
stand so thick that you might imagine you could walk on
their heads. There did not appear any great force on the
mountains to their left, and what they had to the right of
the conical hill and towards Vittoria we could not discern,
but it turned out they had a strong force there. There were
several small villages in the plain and on the side of the
mountains; the largest stood rather to the right of the
plain, with a wood immediately behind it; this, I believe, is
called Subijana de Alva. On the bank of the river also
were three or four villages, most of them on our side, with
a bridge at each village. The French army did not extend
immediately to the river bank, but was placed at some little
distance beyond it. The river was easily fordable.


Our army began to arrive by divisions, and was posted as
follows—General Hill with the 2d division, consisting of
about 12,000 men, was on our extreme right, except about
3000 or 4000 Spaniards under General Morillo, who were
still more to the right, and facing the long range of mountains[203]
before mentioned. In the centre was his lordship with
the 3d, 4th, 7th, and light divisions, perhaps 25,000 strong,
with the main force of artillery and cavalry. Sir Thomas
Graham had been early detached to our left with the 1st and
5th divisions and some Portuguese, about 12,000 in all, to
turn the enemy's right flank, and to try to cut him off from
the great road leading from Vittoria to France, which ran
in that direction.


Whilst this movement was executing, and the different
divisions were getting into their several stations, we,
who had arrived first, were allowed to pile our arms and sit
down. His lordship, with a numerous staff, went down a
little nearer to the river to reconnoitre the enemy's position.
I wandered down with them, and got as near as I
could in order to ascertain the opinion of the big-wigs as to
the business about to take place. One staff-officer, after
carefully examining the position of the enemy through his
glass, gave it as his opinion, that we should scarcely be able
to make any impression upon so numerous an army, and so
very strongly posted; but this opinion must have been dictated,
I think, by his rather desponding temperament, for I
believe it was entirely singular.


The enemy, however, did not fail to notice this movement
of our General and his staff, and instantly detached a corps
of voltigeurs, who, rushing down to the river, dashed across
the bridge at the village of Villoses, and immediately took
possession of a small woody height on our side of the river,
from whence they opened a fire on his lordship and those
that were with him. This of course could not be borne; and
as my battalion was the leading battalion of the column and
nearest at hand, we were ordered (with two companies of
our 1st battalion, which stood next to us) to take our arms,
and drive those fellows across the river again. Thus we had,[204]
I believe, the high honour of commencing the action on that
memorable day. We soon chased the voltigeurs from the
woody height, down through the village, and over the
bridge, where they took post and remained, we not having
orders to pursue them any farther. We took possession of
the village, and continued skirmishing with the enemy, a
good many men falling on both sides, as the river was not
more probably than thirty or forty yards wide, and a constant
fire was kept up by both parties till the French were
afterwards driven away by our divisions crossing lower down
the river.


After we had chased the enemy along the bridge, and
they were fairly clear of the village, a French battery, situated
a little above the river towards the conical hill, opened
its fire upon us, from which we suffered a good deal, one
shot having taken our people, who were lining a garden
wall, in flank, and swept away five or six at a stroke; after
this we kept more under cover.


Almost the first person who fell on our side was a lieutenant
of the name of Campbell. He had, I am sure, a strong
presentiment of his death, for he had, I believe, made his
will the evening before; and when we first came in sight of
the French army, and the others were all animated with life
and glee at the prospect of gaining laurels in abundance, he,
poor fellow, sat down by himself quite pensive, and seemed
lost in thought. He received a shot in the forehead which
terminated his career in a moment as it were, and plunged
him into an eternity of bliss or woe. I hope he was prepared,
but scarcely dare say I believe he was. Our duty
having been accomplished by taking possession of this village,
and keeping the French from coming over, we had now
leisure to look round us and see what was going forward;
and we had certainly a noble field for observation. My commanding-officer,[205]
with the rest of the staff-officers and myself,
together with half a company of men, took up our station
at the church, which, standing high, gave us a fine opportunity
of witnessing the movements of both armies.


A short while after we had taken post here, we observed
the smoke to arise in dense columns in the direction which
Sir Thomas Graham had taken, which showed he had commenced
the attack on that flank of the enemy, and this was
the signal for commencing operations on our right and centre.
Sir Rowland Hill's people, with the Spaniards, instantly
forded the river, and advanced along the top and side of the
mountains before mentioned; and as this was done in considerable
force, it seemed to disconcert King Joseph a good
deal, for instantly his aides-de-camp were seen galloping in
every direction, and the troops which stood upon the plain
began to move in that direction, while those upon the conical
hill began to descend in great numbers into the plain.
This was precisely what our Chief had calculated upon; and
now, by a rapid movement, he threw the centre divisions
across the river, by the bridges of Trespuentes and Nanclara,
a little below our village, and attacking the remaining
troops upon the conical hill, they were overthrown as fast
as our divisions reached them. The 2d, Sir Thomas Picton's
division, here particularly distinguished itself.


General Hill's people were by this time very warmly engaged,
for the enemy having, as stated above, strongly reinforced
that point, they made a rather obstinate defence, particularly
at the village and wood of Subijana de Alva, which
latter was filled with their light troops, and where our 28th
regiment, which was opposed to them, suffered considerably,
and were not able to make much impression. The action
had now become general, and our people on every side advancing;
at this moment old Douro, who never failed to[206]
inspire confidence wherever he appeared, came dashing down
into our village, and seeing the light troops which had been
opposed to us had retired, instantly ordered us to advance,
and join our division on the other side of the river. We accordingly
moved forward, and marched with all expedition
to reach our point; but the French had now begun to retire,
and our people to follow them, so that we found it difficult
to overtake them, and did not do so till they had passed the
conical hill. When we came near that eminence, I rode up
to have a peep at the field before us, and never did I witness
a more interesting and magnificent sight. A beautiful and
extensive plain lay before me, covered with the cavalry,
infantry, and artillery of the contending armies; while the
noise and din, occasioned by repeated volleys and rolls of fire
from the infantry, with the rattle of upwards of 200 pieces
of artillery, almost stunned the ear. Near the end of this plain,
and to the left, arose the lofty spires of Vittoria; and beyond
that again, the smoke arising from the attack of Sir Thomas
Graham's people added animation to the scene.


I had not contemplated the scene before me above a
minute or two, till a howitzer-shell from the French fell
close at my feet. My horse's bridle was hooked on my arm,
and I was standing looking through my glass; but when this
unwelcome visiter descended so near me, I thought it high
time to be packing. My horse, however, not having the
same fear of the consequences that I had, would not move
but at a snail's pace. I was, therefore, constrained to leave
him to take his chance, and get myself out of the way. It
burst, but providentially without injuring either horse or
man, but in the scramble I lost the top of my glass, which
I could not afterwards find.


I got down the hill, and joined my people, who had by
this time passed it; and just at this juncture I observed a[207]
body of troops a little to our right, moving in the same direction
we were. They were dressed in blue, and had caps
covered with white canvass. I took them for Spaniards;
but upon consideration that no Spaniards ought to be there,
and a closer inspection, I found they were a battalion of
French, and most likely those who had been so warmly engaged
with the 28th at the village of Subijana, and who
having stood perhaps too long, and afterwards having the
wood to traverse, they had been detained considerably behind
the rest of the army; for by this time our advance,
and consequently the French rear, could not be less than
half a mile in front of us. I pointed them out to one of our
lieutenant-colonels; but as we had received orders to push
on with all haste, and he not liking to disobey his orders,
and withal a ravine being between them and us, which
would have prevented our closing with them, they were
allowed to move quietly off, which they did with a pretty
quick but steady pace. Before we reached our division, we
had to pass a village, over against which was a very strong
French battery, and where they peppered us considerably,
but without doing much harm, I believe. We here joined
our brigade. Immediately in front of this village the enemy
made one of his longest stands. Our brigade now
formed lines of battalions, and lay down in some ploughed
fields, while their artillery kept playing upon us. On our
left the 3d division was warmly engaged. In about half an
hour we moved in that direction. The 45th we found posted
behind a thin thorn hedge, with its commanding-officer
poor Colonel Ridewood, whom I had known before, lying on
its right, gasping in the agonies of death. A great many men
of this regiment had fallen here. We passed them, and continued
to advance along the plain by brigades and battalions;
but we found the ground much intersected with ditches, which[208]
would have retarded us had we wished to advance rapidly;
but from some cause or other, which we could not then
comprehend, we never pressed upon the enemy closely, but
gave them time to get quietly away. We were still, however,
in expectation of their making their final stand; for
at every short interval a beautiful little position presented
itself, which the French invariably occupied in the finest
style possible, forming their lines on these little eminences
with the greatest precision, and in beautiful order; but they
never stood to let us get at them, for the moment we began
to come within musket-shot, they instantly began to retire to
another, which they took and abandoned in like manner. All
this time, indeed, there was continual skirmishing going on
between the light troops of the two armies, and a constant
cannonade, and occasionally the heavy lines came in contact;
but their infantry appeared to us to leave the field in the main
unbroken.


We continued these movements till near dark, by which
time we had considerably passed Vittoria, and the enemy's
artillery had nearly ceased. Our cavalry now got at them;
and although, from the nature of the ground, their movements
were greatly cramped, yet they continued to charge,
and nearly captured King Joseph. We halted when we had
got about four miles beyond Vittoria, which we passed on
the left hand. We thought we had indeed gained a victory,
but it appeared to us to be a most barren and useless one;
and many were not over well pleased that the enemy had
been allowed to get off so easily. But our noble Chief
knew well what he was about, for he reaped all the fruits
from this that could have been possibly gained from the
most bloody battle. Indeed it was far from being a bloodless
victory, but he certainly did not sacrifice one half the
men that some in the action would have done; they thought[209]
we should have pressed the enemy far more, and brought
him to closer action.


After we halted, I (being the only quartermaster present)
was sent in search of the baggage belonging to the
division, and which had followed as far as they could along
the great road. I passed through Vittoria on my way to the
rear in search of it, and saw as I entered it several of Morillo's
men, who had descended from the mountains and
come into the town. From the vivas and other marks of
gratulation which some of the inhabitants were rendering
these ragged ruffians, a stranger would have thought that
Don Morillo, with his 3000 or 4000 Spaniards, had achieved
the whole victory themselves. It is certain they are a vainglorious
people.


I passed through the town, and, taking the great road, I
soon had ocular proofs of the value of our day's work; the
road being literally blocked up with every description of
carriage-guns, tumbrils, waggons, &c. &c. which filled the
great high-road for nearly two miles to the rear of Vittoria.
I found it difficult to make my way through them,
but at last fell in with the baggage; I could not, however,
get it through, and was obliged to leave it, after giving
directions where to find the division in the morning. I
again passed through Vittoria in returning to the division;
but oh, what scenes had I now to witness! The followers
of an army are sometimes very numerous, and here they
were abundantly so; muleteers, Portuguese and Spanish
concubines, with every description of vagabond you can
imagine. These were by this time all labouring hard in
their avocation of breaking open and plundering the carriages
and waggons, &c. that had been left by the enemy.
Among these were hundreds of soldiers, who were now beginning
to feel the effects of the wine, &c. which they had[210]
found in the enemy's baggage; and such a Babel was here
to be witnessed as is not easy to conceive.


I had some difficulty in forcing my way through the
town, at the end of which I was accosted by five or six
soldiers' wives, belonging to one of our light cavalry regiments,
who wished to accompany me, in order that they
might find their husbands, as that regiment was attached in
some measure to our division. Of course it would have
been cruel to refuse them; and as they were all mounted,
away we posted, but had great difficulty to make out where
the division now was. Many were the waggons and other
carriages we passed on the road, either broken down, upset,
or with people plundering them; and I did not reach the
division till 10 o'clock at night. I was very glad when I
found them, being then excessively fatigued and hungry; and
just as I reached my people, I found the mess to which
I belonged cooking a piece of thin mutton, which they had
cut off from a sheep that had been taken from the enemy.
This was all the plunder I got that memorable day,
although, had I done as many others did, I might have obtained
a great deal both of money and other valuables; for,
as I said before, the numerous carriages I passed gave me
an opportunity which many would have rejoiced at of possessing
myself of immense wealth; but plundering never
was my forte. One officer whom I knew got, I believe,
near L.1000 worth of money, and other valuable property;
and innumerable others got considerable sums, more or less.
I am glad now that I refrained from what might have been
accomplished with ease and safety, but what also might
have entailed upon me disgrace and ruin. One officer I
heard of, who, while in the rear, where he ought not to
have been, found a box full of money, most likely silver,
but very heavy. A German dragoon coming up at the[211]
same moment laid claim to half of it, and when this officer
took hold of it to remove it, the German also laid hold to
prevent him. A sort of scuffle ensued, when the German
made use of most abusive and mutinous language, with
threats, which the officer was obliged to submit to, knowing,
as both of them did, how far he had descended from his
station, thus putting it in the power of the soldier to treat
him as a brother plunderer. Surely the mention of such an
occurrence is enough to deter any man who possesses the
least spark of honour from ever putting it in the power of
a soldier to treat him so. Besides, if an officer plunders
before his men, what may not soldiers be expected to do?


In looking back upon the events of this day, I cannot help
being struck with the bad generalship of those who commanded
the French army. Marshal Jourdan, I understand,
was Joseph's adviser on this occasion. He had always
borne the character of an able General, but here he showed
but little ability. Why did he so much weaken his force on
the conical hill to support his left? Had he maintained his
ground there, which is strong by nature, and they had
rendered it stronger by art, he might have completely
checked us on the right; for if we had advanced too far on
that side, our wings would have been separated, which
would have been a dangerous experiment; and I think
Lord Wellington would not have hazarded it. And after
leaving his first position, why did he not fight at every one
of the beautiful little positions which he afterwards took up
but never defended? This conduct is most unaccountable,
for had he made a longer stand, even although he should be
beaten, which no doubt he would have ultimately been, yet,
by making this stand, he might have got off the greater
part of his materiél, instead of which he carried off with him
one gun and one howitzer only, leaving upwards of 250[212]
pieces of ordnance in our hands. Most of his infantry left
the field apparently unbroken; for only here and there they
had stood to let our people get at them. It is true Sir
Thomas Graham early cut off their retreat by the great road
to France; but what then? This ought to have made them
fight the more desperately, to enable them to get off the better
by the Pamplona road. The infantry should have stood
till the last, and not retired till fairly beaten out of the field.
Nothing could be finer than the movements of our army.


Every thing our Chief attempted succeeded to a tittle.
The only thing I did not like was the delay we occasionally
made in following up the enemy; but I could not, of course,
comprehend the general movements, from seeing only a
small part of them, and I believe the victory would not have
been more decisive by being more bloody. We lost in the
village, where we first began the fight, nearly thirty men, with
the officer before mentioned as killed, and a considerable
number wounded. There was something remarkable in the
fate of one of the men who were killed by the cannon-shot
I before noticed. This man was remarkably averse to fighting,
and had shown, on all occasions, a disposition to leave
that kind of work as soon as practicable. Poor fellow! his
failing was known to all; and on this occasion those about
him had orders to watch him, and keep him to his duty.
They had not been in the village many minutes when this
fatal shot swept him and about five others into eternity in
a moment. It has often been remarked, that this description
of people are generally the first to fall.


It may not be generally known, perhaps, that a battle
was fought on the 3d April 1367, a little higher up this
river, near the village of Novarete, between our Edward the
Black Prince, and Henry the Bastard, who had usurped the
throne of Don Pedro, King of Castile. The history of it is[213]
given by Froissart, who says, "a little before the two armies
met, the Prince of Wales, with eyes and hands uplifted towards
heaven, exclaimed, 'God of truth, the Father of Jesus
Christ, who hast made and fashioned me, grant, through thy
benign grace, that the success of this battle may be for me
and my army; for thou knowest that in truth I have been
emboldened to undertake it in the support of justice and
reason, to reinstate the king upon his throne, who has been
disinherited and driven from it, as well as from his country.'"
This zealous prayer was immediately followed by the
onset, the Prince crying aloud, "Advance banners, in the
name of God and St George!"


"At the commencement," says Froissart, "the French and
Arragonese made a desperate resistance, and gave the good
knights of England much trouble; but at last, when all the
divisions of the Prince were formed into one large body, the
enemy could no longer keep their ground, but began to fly
in great disorder; and Henry, the usurper, perceiving his
army defeated, without hope of recovery, called for his horse,
mounted it, and galloped off among the crowd of runaways.
The English pursued them through the town of Najara,
where they gained considerable plunder; for King Henry
and his army had come thither with much splendour, and
after the defeat they had not leisure to return to place in
security what they had left behind them in the morning."


There is a striking coincidence in many parts of the two
actions and their consequences, which the reader cannot fail
to notice. The most material difference, I think, in the two
stories is, the offering up of the prayer by the Prince, and
the modern practice of not recognising, publicly at least, the
hand of God at all in any of our victories. This is to be
lamented.


[214]


CHAPTER X.


Advance in pursuit of the Enemy—Our Forces retreat, in order to
counteract Soult's movements for the succour of Pamplona—Total
defeat of Soult in the several Actions near Pamplona—Our Forces
again advance—Come up with the retreating Enemy at the Bridge
of Yanzi—The Enemy take up a position behind Vera—A considerable
body of the Enemy attacked at the Pass of Eschallar, and forced
to retreat.


We remained in bivouack all night where the battle had
terminated; and did not begin to move till near mid-day on
the 22d, when we set off in the track of the enemy, and at
night reached Salvatiera, where King Joseph had slept the
night after the action.


The poor beaten French must have had a long march
after the fight, for this was probably sixteen or eighteen
miles from Vittoria. We started early on the morning
of the 23d, and very soon began to overtake the rear of
the enemy. They now resorted to a system of retarding our
march, at once both cruel and cowardly; every village they
passed through they set on fire. Of course this caused us
some delay, as the road generally ran through the middle of
the village, and the country on each side was enclosed, but
still nothing could justify such barbarity to the unoffending
natives, who were thus deprived of house and home, and
probably all they possessed in the world. We overtook their[215]
rearguard near a village about two leagues from Salvatiera.
They attempted to make a stand while the village was in
flames, but a shrapnell shell from our horse artillery set them
instantly in motion. We came upon a considerable body of
them again near the village of La Cunca, where we again
cannonaded them, and where our people had some slight
skirmishing with their rear.


We encamped for the night near this village, and again
started after them in the morning early. My battalion led
the column to-day, the post of honour. We had marched, I
think, about eight or ten miles without overtaking any of
the flying foe before us, but at last we came to an open country,
that which we had traversed being pretty thickly enclosed,
with bad roads and wet weather, which rendered
marching very uncomfortable. Here a halt was ordered, as
the enemy was in front in some force; here for the first time
we got upon the great road leading from Pamplona towards
Bayonne; and here, where it turned the corner of a mountain,
forming a pretty acute angle, they had the only gun
and howitzer they had saved from the fight in position, and
ready to receive us. The men of my battalion, and a part of
our 1st battalion, were ordered to put their knapsacks up
behind the hussars of the German Legion, as it was not
expected they would be wanted, and it thus rendered our
people better able to run. The enemy appeared to have two
battalions here, one of which remained on the great road
near the two pieces of artillery, while the other moved off
more to our right, down a valley which they imagined would,
at the other end, let them out into the great road again.


We now began to move forward, and as I happened to be
the first mounted person who left the enclosed road we had
been in, I was honoured with the first shot from their gun,
which, although a good shot, did me no injury. Our people[216]
now pushed on at them pretty smartly, which caused them,
after firing a round or two more, to limber up and retire
with their artillery, though they of course retired as leisurely
as possible, to give time for their troops, whom they were covering,
to get away. The skirmishing between them and our
people continued for about two miles, they gradually retiring
before us; but when they came to a sort of pass in the road,
formed by two rocks nearly meeting in the middle, their
bugles or trumpets sounded first the halt to their troops,
and afterwards the advance upon us. We could not comprehend
the meaning of this, till in a few minutes the battalion
which we had observed go down towards the right, suddenly
made its appearance out of a wood among our skirmishers.
Of course a sharp contest now took place, and the firing
on both sides became more brisk; this battalion, it appears,
had miscalculated on getting out of the valley, down which
it had retired, and had been compelled, at whatever risk, to
make the great road again before they passed the rocks before
mentioned; and in order to let it do so, the other skirmishers
had advanced to cover its movement. This battalion
suffered considerably before it reached the road, and we
did not get off scot-free, having lost out of our five companies
about twenty-four men.


Our artillery being pretty near at hand, Colonel Ross
brought up two guns, and fired into their retreating column,
doing considerable execution. We now moved forward in
close pursuit of the enemy for about two miles farther, when
a shot from Colonel Ross's guns having struck one of the
leaders in their gun, and our people at this time pressing
them so closely as not to give time to disentangle the dead
horse, they unwillingly were compelled to throw their only
gun into the ditch, and there abandon it. We continued
the pursuit till we drove them under the walls of Pamplona,[217]
which I understand, poor wretches, they were not
allowed to enter, on account of the scarcity of provisions in
that fortress, and which after events proved was the case.
We retired to the village of Aldava and others in the neighbourhood,
where we remained for the night.


On the morning of the 25th, we advanced on the road to
Pamplona, the enemy having all retired towards France, till
we came within about one mile and a half of it, when we
branched off to the left, and moved along a range of hills at
about a mile distant from the works of the place, till we
reached the town of Villaba, on the mountain-road from Pamplona
to France; thus cutting off all retreat from the garrison,
and thus in fact investing the place. During our movements
to-day, my people being in the rear of the 17th Portuguese
regiment, I was riding in company with my commanding-officer
at the head of the battalion, when the horse
of the Portuguese major threw out with both his hind feet
with all his might, and struck me with one foot on my thigh,
and the other on the calf of the leg. The blow was so severe
that I nearly fainted, and was obliged to dismount and
throw myself on the ground; but as no bones were broken,
I gathered myself up again, and mounted and set off after
the troops.


We encamped on the Pamplona side of Villaba, distant
from the former about one mile and a half. The captain in
whose mess I was, with his company, was that night ordered
on picquet within about three quarters of a mile of the city.
I went there to get my dinner, during which several poor
people, who had made their escape from the place, came and
welcomed us in the name of the people, telling us they were
heartily tired of their present lodgers; of course there would
be different opinions among them, but I believe the generality
at that time hated the French most cordially.


There was[218] a division of the French army under General
Clausel, which had not partaken of the flight at Vittoria,
being then stationed at Logrona, and he having learnt the
fate of his companions in arms, and their retreat into France,
was moving through the country to our right, in order to
effect his retreat also. Next morning, therefore, the 3d and
our divisions were despatched in pursuit of this French corps.
We marched that day to near Taffala, and halted at the village
of Muro, at the junction of the great road from Logrona
with that we now occupied, but we learnt that Clausel
had kept more to his right, and was directing his course
towards the mountain-road, which passes near Caceda and
Languessa, into France.


We accordingly passed through Taffala and Olite, and
encamped for the night. Next day we started early, and
moved on till mid-day, when we halted for an hour or two to
cook and refresh near the village of Murillo del Fruto. We
here came upon the river Arragon. This had been already
a long day's march, and the greater part of the division were
ready to lie down now, but a much longer portion still remained
to be accomplished. Accordingly, we set off after a
short rest, and traversed the right bank of this river for
about ten hours longer. Night marches at all times are unpleasant,
but much more so on such a road or path as this
was, and every one so nearly tired before beginning it.


We crossed the Arragon at the village of Galla Pienzo,
and lay down in a field not far from the village of Caseda.
Very few of the division reached this place until daylight
next morning. But when I got in I unfortunately lay down
on a ridge immediately behind our column, and where, had
I given it a thought, I was continually liable to be disturbed.
And indeed I was most wofully disturbed, for every fresh
batch that came in tumbled themselves down upon me,[219]
or in blundering about in the dark were sure to stumble
over me. It must be observed that my leg by this time, instead
of getting better, had begun to swell dreadfully
and to suppurate, consequently I was in a high state of fever;
and to the thumps and kicks which I received in the dark
during this uncomfortable night, I cannot but attribute much
of my subsequent suffering. Next morning we discovered
that all our labour had been in vain, for Clausel had got the
start of us, and had got off by another road into France.


We next day moved into Languessa, from which we were
not far distant, but I could no longer accompany or precede
the troops, my leg was now so bad. I was therefore obliged
to get a pillow laid on my holsters, and then ride with my
leg resting upon it, (a most uncomfortable position, could I
have found a better,) while one of my men led my horse,
and thus follow them as well as I was able. We rested in
Languessa all the 30th and 1st July; and on the 2d reached
Deriza, having passed through Monreal. Here I was obliged
to be lifted off my horse, and put to bed. I was almost
stupid from the pain I suffered; for my leg was now
swoln as large as my thigh. We next day moved into
Villaba, from whence we had started in pursuit of Clausel,
and thence into some villages on the plain, close to Pamplona.
Here I believe some works were thrown up to
shelter the troops, either against the shot from the fortress,
or a sally from the garrison. This continued all next day.
I remained very ill in bed.


On the 5th, the division left this quarter, and set off on
the road towards France; but I could not follow them. I
got with great difficulty from my present station, which
was now occupied by other troops, and stopped at a village,
the name of which I forget, just over the ridge where I
received my hurt, and a few miles distant from Villaba.[220]
Here I found out that Dr Jones of the 40th regiment was
in the latter town; and, as he had formerly been in our
regiment, I took the liberty of requesting he would come
and see me. This I found out by my servant going in for
provisions. He very kindly came, and gave me the best
advice he could. By this time my leg had burst, and had
discharged a prodigious quantity of matter.


I remained in this village till about the 10th, during
which time a priest had shown himself remarkably kind and
attentive; there were very few inhabitants remaining besides
him. He told me in one of the conversations that I had
with him, that, from the first entry of the French troops
into this country, one million had passed out of France into
Spain, for he had had good opportunities of making a just
calculation; and that, out of that vast number, not more
than 200,000 had returned, thus proving that the enemy
had lost in that country 800,000 men. And this is not to
be wondered at, for nearly the whole population during that
time had been in arms against them; and, although not
acting as soldiers in the field, they never failed to assassinate
the French wherever they could accomplish it. He said,
moreover, that Mina, with his little band, could produce documents
to prove that he had destroyed 40,000 Frenchmen.


About the 10th, I set off from this village, as my leg
had by this time become somewhat easier; and, passing
through Lantz, Elizonda, and St Estevan, arrived at Sumbilla
on the 13th, still obliged to ride sideways with my leg
over the pillow and holster. Here I found my division;
and, as this journey had again brought my leg to nearly as
bad a state as before, I was obliged to have it opened in two
places, but without reaching the matter, as nothing but
blood was discharged.


On the 15th, my division moved forward to the town of[221]
Vera, the last town on the Spanish frontier. Here the
enemy had taken up a strong position, both in front and rear
of the town; the front position was on Santa Barbara, an
exceeding high and almost inaccessible mountain. They
were dislodged from the position before the town by my
brigade, and retired into the Puerta, or Pass of Vera. I was
not present on this occasion, having been again compelled
to stay behind on account of my leg. While I remained at
Sumbilla, I had been obliged to have my horse shod by a
Spanish blacksmith, who drove a nail right into the quick.
This I did not discover till several days after, when I found
my horse quite lame.


On the 18th, I again crept on after my people, whom I
found encamped on the height of Santa Barbara, from which
I before said they had driven the enemy. Here we remained
till the 26th, During this time my horse's foot had also
suppurated, and he was quite unable to move. My leg also
was daily discharging a vast quantity of matter, so that I
felt at this time very uncomfortable; particularly as very
stormy weather came on while we were here, which killed
a great number of our animals, horses and mules, I believe
not fewer than seven or eight in one night.


It will be known to the reader, perhaps, that on the 25th,
Soult (who had now been appointed to the command of the
French army) made an attack upon our posts at Roncesvalles
and Maya, and had driven the divisions stationed
there from their posts. He moved on towards Pamplona,
in hopes either of beating back our army to Vittoria, (as
he vainly talked,) or of being able to supply Pamplona
with provisions, which it greatly needed. In consequence
of this movement of the enemy, we also were compelled to
fall back, although the troops in front of us made no demonstration
of advancing.


Accordingly,[222] on the 26th, we began our retrograde movement,
being myself at that time in as pitiable a plight as can
well be conceived. My horse was so utterly lame, that he
could scarcely hop on three legs, while I was totally unable
to walk a step. My kind friend Captain Perceval, with
whom I had long messed, helped me out of my trouble, by
dividing the load of one of his baggage-ponies among the
other animals, and lending it me to ride upon. We retired
from the height, and crossed the river Bidassoa, near Lizacca,
through which we passed, and kept along the mountains on
the left bank of that river till we reached a height opposite
Sumbilla, where we pitched our tents, and remained for the
night. We did not move all next day; but just as night
set in, we were ordered under arms, and continued our
retreat. This was a still more distressing night-march
than any I had previously witnessed.


We were now, it may be noticed, in the midst of the
mountains of the Pyrenees, where precipices abound; consequently
the precaution to avoid falling over them would be
doubled. One little streamlet, I well remember, delayed
the division probably two hours. It came down from the
sides of the mountain which overhung the road, and crossed
it at a very dark and ugly-looking place, making a considerable
noise as it fell from rock to rock. This of course
made every one extremely cautious; and in consequence a
poor good-natured corporal, who was killed soon after, got
himself into the middle of the streamlet, and took hold of
every person's hand as he passed, conducting him safely to
the other side. Poor fellow, he was extremely anxious to
help me and my miserable little pony safely over. This
and a few other places, something similar, prevented us
reaching our destination till an hour after daylight next[223]
morning, although the whole distance was not more than
ten miles.


We arrived at Zubietta in the morning. This place is
about a league to the right of St Estevan, more into the
mountains. Here we remained that day, and the next day
moved higher up the mountain, behind the town, where we
encamped, and remained till evening, when we again commenced
our retreat. We had not quite so bad a march of
it this night, the road being much more even, although, just
at the outset, our adjutant, in riding along, had his cap
pulled off by the bough of a tree, and in endeavouring to
save it from falling, he pulled his horse right over a small
precipice, which the two rolled down together. Luckily it
was not a deep ravine into which he fell, or he would not
have escaped so well: neither man nor horse were much
hurt. We reached the village of Saldias in the morning,
where we remained for the day. Last night my servant
told me he had been obliged to leave my little horse
behind, as he could not get him to hop any farther. I felt
grieved at this, for he had brought me all the way from
Lisbon, and shared both my good and bad fortune; however,
it was no use to fret, for that would not improve my
situation, which indeed was not an enviable one, my leg all
this time being extremely painful.


On the 30th, we made an excessively long march, (by
day,) and at night reached Lecumberg, where we encamped.
During the latter part of this day's march, we had heard an
incessant cannonade and firing of musketry in the direction
of Pamplona, from which we were apprehensive that Soult
had penetrated too far; but as it did not appear to recede,
we believed our people had been able to hold him in check
at least. We were now on the great road from Bayonne to
Pamplona, in order to keep up the communication between[224]
our right, where the fighting was now going on, and Sir
Thomas Graham, who was besieging St Sebastian. We were
here also to intercept any of the enemy's columns that
might either advance or retreat by this road. Towards
evening of the 31st, an aide-de-camp arrived from Lord
Wellington, more dead than alive from the excessive fatigue
which he had undergone for the last three or four days, with
news of the total defeat of Soult in the several actions near
Pamplona, termed the Battle of the Pyrenees, and ordering
us to retrace our steps, and again advance. We set off in
the evening, and reached Larissa, where we halted for the
night. It was whispered that it was expected we should
have gone much farther this night, but I am not certain
whether it is true; but certainly we might have proceeded
to Saldias, if absolutely necessary.


On the morning of the 1st of August, we again started
pretty early. It was again reported this morning that another
dispatch had been received during the night, directing
us to proceed with all haste, as the enemy were retreating
by St Estevan, and that we were to attack them wherever
we met them. We now of course stepped out very freely,
and presently gained Zubietta. Here I had ridden forward
to get a shoe fastened on, my horse having cast one in
coming over the mountains; during which time the quartermaster
had been called for some purpose or other, as I was
not there.


My General was not well satisfied: he saw me in this
village, and asked me why I had not been present when I
was wanted. I told him the cause, but he still did not appear
satisfied, and, by way of punishment, directed me to remain
in the village till the baggage came up, and show them
the way the division had gone. I may here observe, that
it was a little unreasonable in my General to find any fault[225]
with me on this occasion; for, had I not got the shoe put on
my horse, I could not have been of any use at all as a quartermaster.
My punishment indeed was slight, and I rather
think he was glad to find any excuse to delay me for the purpose
for which I was left. I am confident the officers of
the infantry suffered more anxiety and even loss on account
of the great want of farriers or horse-shoers in their regiments,
than from almost any other cause. Without the
officer was pretty high in rank, he had not only to pay most
exorbitantly for any thing of this kind which he got done,
but to beg and pray, and to look upon it as a favour conferred
on him. Most of the good shoers were taken by the
staff or general officers, consequently only the inferior ones
were left for the regimental officers, and in several cases
none at all. The consequence of all this was, the loss of
several valuable animals, both horses and mules; besides, in
some cases, the officers being rendered incapable of performing
their duty as they otherwise would have done. To this
I attribute a considerable loss in animals during this service.
It might easily be remedied by each infantry regiment having
a proper establishment of farriers, (say two,) with tools, &c.
in proportion, and the means of carrying them; and then
every officer, whose duty requires him to be mounted, might
be served. I myself bought tools to the amount of L.4, and
never had but one horse shod with them. I could not get
a man to do it. As soon as I saw the baggage on the right
way, I pushed forward, and joined the division again. We
were literally at this time climbing up a mountain, where I
could not ride, but was obliged to crawl up, and pull my
horse after me. My leg by this time had much improved.
We followed the road by which we had retreated a few days
before, and at length came to the rivulet that had so alarmed
us all on our night-march. It was really surprising that[226]
we should have been stopped so long by such a trifle; but
in such a situation, and at such a time, things of that kind
are magnified a thousandfold by the imagination. We
passed our old camp ground opposite to Sumbilla, and here
we came in view of the enemy's columns retreating along
the road on the opposite bank of the Bidassoa. This gave
our men new life; but here the 52d and other regiments of
the 2d brigade were obliged to halt: they could proceed no
farther.


We had marched by this time to-day two and a half of
the stages we made in retreating; but the 2d brigade had
been in the rear of the column all day, and had consequently
suffered much from stoppages, &c. My battalion, our 1st
battalion, and the 43d regiment, continued to move on, and
as they approached, the enemy seemed to acquire fresh
vigour. At length we reached the point of attack,—the
bridge of Yanzi,—and here the 1st battalion turning down
towards the river, at once left the wood and ground above
the bridge to be occupied by us. The enemy sent a pretty
strong corps of light troops across, which got engaged with
our people; but we soon drove down through the wood
again towards the bridge. At length, we got two companies
posted just over the bridge, in front of which all the
rear of the French column had to pass. Poor creatures! they
became so alarmed, that they instantly began to cut away,
and cast off, all the loads of baggage, and both cavalry and
infantry, &c. to make the best of their way. But the
mountain on their right was inaccessible; consequently they
had all, as it were, to run the gauntlet. Great was the execution
done amongst the enemy at this bridge, and many
were the schemes they tried to avoid passing. At length
they got a battalion up behind a stone wall above the road, on
the opposite side, from whose fire we received some damage;[227]
consequently those poor people who had afterwards to pass
were not so much exposed. Just about the close of the
business, my kind friend, Captain Perceval, received a
shot through his right wrist. His left hand had been
closed for a length of time before, in consequence of a
wound through that wrist, which had contracted his fingers,
besides being lame from a wound in the hip. Now he was
rendered completely useless. Towards dusk I went with
him a little to the rear, and got his tent pitched, and made
as comfortable as circumstances would admit. I pitied the
French on this occasion, they seemed so much alarmed.
The whole of their baggage fell into the hands of our 4th
division, who were closely following them up on their side
of the Bidassoa.


In this affair, the French were reduced to a dreadful
dilemma; great numbers of their wounded had been brought
off from the battles of the 28th, 29th, and 30th, near Pamplona,
which were carried on biers or stretches by men of this
division. When they saw us in front of them, where they
had to pass, as it were, immediately under the muzzles of
our pieces, they were compelled to adopt the cruel alternative
of either throwing their wounded men down to perish,
or run the risk of being shot or taken themselves. I believe
the former, shocking as it seems, was generally adopted;
and I have reason to believe that the greater part of them
were thrown into the river; for, from the point where we
first came in view of them to near where this affair took
place, the Bidassoa was literally filled with the dead bodies
of Frenchmen, and they could have come into it in no
other way. We lost only a very few men on this occasion,
not more than six or eight, while that of the enemy must
have been extremely severe. Here the effects of rifle-shooting
were plainly visible.


In remarking[228] on this affair, I beg to draw the reader's
attention to the following circumstances; viz. probably
never troops made such a march over such a country before.
We travelled at least thirty-two miles over mountains
such as I before described, where you were sometimes
nearly obliged to scramble upon your hands and knees.
The day was exceedingly hot, and occasionally there was a
great want of water. I am told that one of the regiments
in our 2d brigade, which, it may be remembered, were
obliged to halt, as they could go no farther, had no less than
200 men fell out, unable to keep up, and that some of them
actually died of fatigue. I heard of one poor fellow, who,
when he came to water and had drunk, lost his senses,
fell to the ground, and shortly after expired. I have reason
to be proud of my battalion on this occasion, which, when
the roll was called, just before the action commenced, had
only nine men fallen out; but they had been in the front all
day, a great advantage in marching, particularly over a
mountainous country.


This day's work gave me a higher idea of the powers of
human nature, when properly trained, than ever I possessed
before; for when you consider that each of those soldiers
carried a weight of not less probably than forty or fifty lbs.
and some much more, it cannot but be surprising that men
should be able to sustain such fatigue for such a length of
time—at the end of which to fight, and gain a victory.


Next morning were clearly observable the effects of the
evening's work. In the house, the yard, and on the road
opposite the bridge, were a great number of dead Frenchmen;
and to the rear, by the way they had advanced, the
road was literally strewed with baggage, and equipments of
every description. Some of our people picked up a number
of visiting cards, with General Vandermason on them, very[229]
elegant; so that his baggage, no doubt, had been cast off,
as well as that of inferior people.


Soon after daylight, we were ordered to fall in, and move
forward towards Vera. Just as we cleared the bridge, old
Douro, with his staff, came riding up, who, when he saw how
we had handled the enemy the night before, gave his head a
significant nod, and smiled, which conveyed most intelligibly
his approbation. We soon reached the neighbourhood of
Vera, behind which, in the pass of that name, as before stated,
the enemy took up a strong position, from which their
picquets had never yet been driven. We were ordered to encamp
a little below the bridge leading to Lezacca, between that
and Vera, while the other regiments were intended to occupy
the heights of Santa Barbara, from which we had before
retreated. But towards mid-day it was discovered that the
enemy still had a considerable body of troops in and about
the pass of Echallar, a few miles to our right. Our brigade
was therefore ordered again under arms, with the intention
of co-operating with the 7th division in an attack upon
those people. It was a thick mist, so that we could scarcely
see twenty yards before us; but when we reached the
bottom of an immensely high hill, on which the enemy
were posted, we presently discovered whereabouts we had
them.


Our 1st battalion extended to the right, and my battalion
moved straight forward up the hill. For a considerable
time the enemy's fire did us no injury, being deceived, I
imagine, by the denseness of the fog. They fired almost
always over our heads, some of which shots struck the men
of the 43d, a considerable way below us. At length we
began to approach the summit of the mountain, where the
enemy were of course much more condensed, the ground
they had to occupy being much smaller. Our people were[230]
advancing regularly up the hill, when we run right up
against a rock, on the top of which was collected an immense
body of the French, and from whom our people received a
most destructive fire, knocking down fourteen men in an
instant. This unlooked-for circumstance checked our
people, and made some of them retire for an instant behind
a broken part in the mountain, from which they kept up the
best fire they could. During this transaction, the French,
who were not more than ten or twelve yards distant, were
calling out to us in Spanish to advance, and abusing us
most lustily. A Spaniard (one of the recruits I formerly
mentioned) was so much annoyed, that he began in his turn
to abuse the French; and, as if words were not enough,
accompanying them with the best shot he could give them.
Poor fellow, he was instantly shot through the body, and
fell to rise no more.


They now began to get courage, and made a show of advancing
upon us: they did do so on the right against our
1st battalion, but my commanding-officer calling out to
cheer our people, set up a shout, which had the effect of
intimidating them, and they did not dare to advance. I was
now sent away by Colonel Barnard to request the 43d
(who were behind us) to send a company to support our
1st battalion, which they instantly did; and just as I returned,
I found the French had evacuated the rock from
which they had annoyed us, on the top of which we found
a great number of caps and pouches, &c., belonging to men
who had fallen there. We followed them over the hill,
but they now gave us leg-bail, posting down into the valley
towards France with all expedition.


The 7th division had some pretty sharp work before they
dislodged the people in front of them, and had suffered very
severely in effecting their object. When every thing was[231]
settled, one of our men thought he saw a man hiding behind
a tree just below us: he went to see what it was, and
dragged out by the neck a French soldier of the 2d light
infantry. Poor fellow, he came out shrugging his shoulders,
and, putting on a most beseeching look, begged we would
spare him, as he was only a "pauvre Italien." Of course
no injury was done him, only the soldier who took him
claiming and taking from him his knapsack, which appeared
a fine full one, and which he appropriated to himself. I
thought it cruel, and would have prevented it, had my voice
been of any weight; and yet, had it not been taken from
him now, it would very soon after, when he became a
prisoner.


One battalion was ordered to remain and occupy this
hill, which dreadfully alarmed me, lest it should be ours,
for it was bitter, bleak, and cold. Luckily a Portuguese
battalion was ordered up, and we returned to our snug
camp by the river side; and here, as if to crown our good
fortune, one of our men, who had been left behind in
charge of the tents, had got some meat roasted for our
mess, of which we all partook with great delight and thankfulness.


A friend of mine of our 1st battalion, during the advance
the French had made upon that battalion, was nigh
falling into their hands. They rushed at him, but he perceiving,
and endeavouring to avoid them, fell into a bush,
which scratched him most wofully, and in the fray lost his
cap and sword. They grasped at the latter, (which was
not drawn,) but which luckily broke loose from the belt, or
they would have had him. This hill was always known
afterwards by the name of Barnard's Hill, in honour of
Colonel Barnard, who commanded on the occasion.


[232]


CHAPTER XI.


The Author, from a mistake, loses his Servants for a few days—A
Feast of Death—A Feast of Life—Fighting near St Sebastian—Singular
instance of Spanish Bravery—St Sebastian is captured,
but no Details given, the Author not having been present—Attack
of the Pass of Vera.


We remained at rest here for some time, during which
I, as acting paymaster, had several trips to Tolosa, a considerable
town on the great road from Bayonne to Madrid,
where the paymaster-general had taken up his residence
with the military chest. In one of them I went and had a
peep at St Sebastian, the siege of which was then going
on. While here, I received directions from General Sir
William Stewart to attend him at Villaba, where he lay
wounded, he having received two balls in the late actions.
I set off, directing my servants with my baggage to follow
close after me: by some means they were delayed a few
minutes, and, supposing I was going again to the paymaster-general
at Tolosa, went off in that direction, without
asking any questions. I imagined they knew very well[233]
where I was going, and still went on slowly, every now and
then looking back to see if I could descry them coming;
but although there was no appearance of them, I simply
enough continued my route till I reached St Estevan; and
here I put up for the night, thinking, of course, they would
come by and by. In the morning, I was fully convinced
they must have gone some other road, and as all my books,
&c., from which I wanted information, were in my baggage,
I thought it useless to proceed any farther. In retracing
my steps, which I did leisurely, I had an opportunity of
seeing the great number of bodies which the French had
thrown into the river, the road running close by its brink
nearly all the way. It was really shocking to behold such
numerous wrecks of mortality, with the disgusting appearance
which most of them had assumed; many of them were
half eaten by the fish, and of others the flesh was hanging in
rags, and bleaching in the stream. Of course I returned
home, but did not see my servants again for several days,
as it took three or four to accomplish the journey to Tolosa
and back, and they had waited there a day for me.


On the day that I was absent, all the officers of my corps
had had a sumptuous and splendid entertainment, it being
the 25th August, the anniversary of the regiment's first
formation. They had dug a ditch in an oblong shape in
the middle of a field, the centre of which served for a table,
while they sat with their feet in the ditch. I am told the
French, who were just above, and overlooked them from
the heights behind the town, assembled and viewed them,
as if in astonishment to see them regaling themselves
with so much glee in the midst of the wild Pyrenean
mountains. No doubt the wine went merrily round, and
many were the toasts which were drunk with three-times-three.


During this interval,[234] I often amused myself with fishing
in the Bidassoa, in which there were many excellent trout,
and I was pretty successful, for I had got some tackle from
one of our captains, which he had brought from England.
On one of these occasions, while I was wading in a pool, I
spied a fine salmon laying just below me; I threw in and
brought my flies right over him, at which he instantly rose,
but I missed him. I tried again, and hooked him, but in a
moment he plunged right across the river, carrying with
him all my flies and part of my line, for I had no reel. I
might have calculated upon this, if I had thought for a moment;
but the opportunity was so tempting, that I could
not resist it.


At length the 31st of August arrived, the day on which
St Sebastian was to be stormed. We knew this, for we had
furnished a number of volunteers, both officers and men, to
take part in the assault; many of our higher officers had gone
to witness the glorious spectacle. But early in the morning,
we were all astonished at the bugle sounding through
the camp the alarm, or assembly, and instantly orders were
given for the tents to be struck, the baggage to be packed,
and to set off with it to the rear without a moment's delay,
for the French were advancing; of course all this was done
in as short a time as possible, and the troops were ordered
to move on to a hill just over the bridge of Vera. A
detachment of ours had joined the evening before, and it
cannot easily be conceived the strange effect this sudden
alarm had on some of them. One of them, a lieutenant,
was all in a bustle getting his pistols put in fighting order,
and came to me begging I would take some money to keep
for him. I told him that it was likely to be in as much
danger with me as with himself, and of course declined.
The old hands, on the contrary, were as cool and quiet about[235]
it as if it was an everyday occurrence. We moved to the
height before mentioned, and saw a cloud of fellows with
white caps coming down to the left of the town, and of
course prepared to give them the best reception we could.
I was sent with orders to my commanding-officer from the
General, 'that he was, when pressed, to retire till he got
on the ridge just over his house, (which was on the road
a little to the rear of where we then were,) and that he was
to stand there as long as it was possible.' I thought something
very warm was going to occur, seeing such a cloud of
Frenchmen were then approaching us, but we were all disappointed;
they went quickly to their right after descending
from the heights, and forded the river below the town, setting
their faces towards St Sebastian. All this was effected
under a cannonade from the heights.


Our 1st brigade (except my battalion) was then ordered
to cross the river by the Lezacca bridge a little behind us,
and to move parallel to the enemy along the ridge above
that town, which had all along been Lord Wellington's
head-quarters. As soon as they got across, they sent a
body of troops to the bridge of Vera, close to which some
of our people were stationed, and from thence they kept
firing on us all day from some small mountain guns, which
they had brought down with them, and occasionally with
musketry. We were now somewhat curiously situated.
The French position was on the side we occupied, while
the other side of the bridge had been fortified by the Spanish
General Longa, to protect himself during the last
excursion of the French towards Pamplona; but now they
occupied the side on which the intrenchments had been
thrown up, and turned them against us of course; they did
little execution by their fire. Lord Wellington, seeing the
intention of the enemy, assembled all the British troops he[236]
could easily collect, and brought them in rear of a corps of
Spaniards, which met the French in this direction; and
finding this a fair opportunity of seeing what the Don
could do, withheld the British, and let the Spaniards attack
them by themselves. They had now the best chance of
showing their valour that ever had or might present itself;
they had the high ground, and the enemy had to climb up
on their hands and knees to get at them; besides, they had
behind them backers that would not see them get foul play.
So away they set at them, and indeed they did tumble the
French down in good style, upsetting them in all directions;
so that our English division had nothing to do but to look
on. This was the only time I ever knew the Spaniards act
in a body like good soldiers.


The enemy, being beaten, were obliged of course to retrograde;
but it came on one of the bitterest nights I have
almost ever witnessed; the rain fell in torrents, and the
lightning was very vivid. The French endeavoured to
retrace their steps during the night, fording the river where
they had crossed it in the morning; but the heavy rain
had so swoln the river by midnight, that they could not
continue any longer to wade it. A considerable number
of them still remained on the other side, and no way presented
itself of extricating themselves, but by forcing their
passage across the bridge, near which a company of our 2d
battalion, under Captain Cadoux, was posted, with one of
ours, a short distance in the rear, to support him. Captain
Cadoux's people were stationed in houses about thirty yards
from the bridge, and had a double sentry on the bridge.
The enemy's column approached very quietly, and then
made a rush; but the rain having wet the priming of
the sentries' rifles, they could not get them to go off to give
the necessary alarm, and were in a moment driven from[237]
their post. The French then, seeing they had effected a
passage, set up a shout, and rushed towards the houses
where Cadoux's people were, who turned out at once, and
with the supporting company, opened a deadly fire upon
the enemy's column; but poor Cadoux fell instantly almost,
as he had imprudently mounted his horse on the first alarm;
his lieutenant also was severely wounded. The firing of
course soon brought the whole brigade to the spot, which
kept up a constant and well-directed fire during the whole
of their progress along the little plain towards Vera.


The enemy suffered dreadfully on this occasion, leaving
the ground literally strewed with their dead, who, like the
others before mentioned, were next morning thrown into
the river; so that the fish had ample feeding for some time
after. Some people afterwards reflected upon General
Skerrott, who commanded here, for not posting a stronger
force at the bridge, and for not blocking it up with an
abbatis; the former he might and ought to have done;
but the latter was impracticable, from the enemy holding
the breastwork at the other end of the bridge, which was
not more than about thirty yards long. Had a battalion
been posted there, it is probable the French, who were
compelled to have recourse to this daring attempt, might
have been induced to surrender; but I believe the General
never imagined they had need to make such an attempt.
Our loss on this occasion was rather severe also. A great
many of Captain Cadoux's men fell; Lieutenant Travers,
who commanded the company of my battalion, was wounded,
and a considerable number of men were killed and
wounded; among the former, some of the poor fellows
who had joined from England only the day before.


Thus was Soult's second attempt frustrated, and St Sebastian
fell into our hands. As I was not present at that[238]
glorious exhibition of British valour and prowess, I cannot
take upon me to give any account of its capture. The volunteers
who went from our division to assist in the storm
or assault, sustained their full share in the casualties attendant
thereon. The field-officer, Colonel Hunt of the 52d,
was severely wounded; a lieutenant of the 43d, brother to
Mr O'Connell, the famous Roman Catholic advocate, was
killed; two lieutenants of our first battalion, named Percival
and Hamilton, were severely wounded. The latter, I
believe, was a volunteer on the occasion, not being entitled,
from his standing, to take it as a tour of duty. He was
conspicuously brave, and received two severe wounds, from
which it would scarcely be imagined possible any one could
recover.


A few days after the surrender of St Sebastian, I had
again occasion to go to Tolosa for money, and took the
road by Passages, the port where we now received all our
supplies from England; and also to see the ruins of that
late formidable fortress. When I reached it, the houses
were still on fire, and not I believe half-a-dozen in the
whole town that remained habitable, or the inhabitants had
quite deserted it. I went up to the citadel and examined
it, and I believe this, with proper casemates or bomb-proofs,
might be rendered one of the strongest places in
Spain, next to Gibraltar; but the French had suffered
dreadfully from our shells, which had literally ploughed
the ground on the top of this naturally strong height, and
from which cause they had been compelled to surrender.


St Sebastian was indeed a melancholy spectacle at this
time. I returned from Tolosa by a part of the road which
we had traversed in our late retreat and advance again, as I
now began to hope I might perhaps recover my little horse,[239]
for I suspected from some cause that my servant, instead of
having been obliged to abandon him, because of his lameness,
as he told me, had sold him at that time; and this I
actually found had been the case. I compelled him to tell
me where he had disposed of him, and, with my broken
Spanish, traced him from thence for near twenty miles farther
into the mountains, where I found him in a village,
the name of which I do not recollect, but where a squadron
of our German hussars were quartered. I of course claimed
and took possession of the horse, giving the person the
amount he had paid for him; but he being still lame, the
commanding-officer of the hussars kindly permitted me to
leave him with his farrier till he got well. He afterwards
sent him to me, and would not even allow the farrier to
receive any remuneration for his trouble, so kindly and
politely did he behave.


September passed away without any thing remarkable occurring.
My friend Captain (now Major) Perceval had been
obliged to return to England, and Captain Balvaird succeeded
him as senior captain of my battalion. I still continued in
that company's mess. At length it was determined to attack
the Puerta, or Pass of Vera, which the enemy had rendered
exceedingly strong. The left of our army, under Sir Thomas
Graham, were ordered to attack in their front, and
force the passage of the Bidassoa, and establish themselves
in France. We were merely to drive them from the heights
above the town of Vera, taking possession of all the strong
ground between that and France. The fourth division was
brought up to support our attack, and formed immediately
in rear of the town. One of the captains who formed the
Committee of Paymastership, and who, it may be remembered,
were held responsible for my accounts, and the due
appropriation of all public money which might come into[240]
my hands, took a fancy that I exposed myself too much,
and requested the commanding-officer, Colonel Ross, to
prohibit my again entering into action, except for the purpose
of bringing ammunition, &c., when my duty required
me; in consequence of which the adjutant was sent to me
this morning, previous to the operations commencing, with
an order for me not to accompany the battalion. It may
seem to the reader perhaps like affectation when I tell him
I felt hurt at this order, and determined not very strictly to
comply with it, for I believed that my respected commanding-officer
had no objection that I should accompany him,
did not this untoward circumstance interfere with my so
doing. Accordingly I remained a looker-on among the
fourth division. My battalion was destined to commence
this attack by driving the enemy from a high and rugged
hill on the right of the Pass, which was a necessary operation
before the Pass itself could be attacked. Accordingly
he extended the battalion, and encircled its base on the
side next to Vera; and I believe, without firing a shot
almost, he marched right up to the top of the hill, notwithstanding
the sturdy resistance made by the enemy, and
in a very short space of time completely cleared this formidable
height.


This operation was the admiration of the whole fourth
division, (for it was clearly observable by every one,) and
they were most lavish of their praises for such a workmanlike
movement. When my people approached the top of
the hill, I felt alarmed for their safety and their honour, for
the French commander closed all his force to one point,
and, forming them into line, made them fix bayonets, apparently
with a determination to charge them down the hill
again; and I saw that my people, for they could not perceive
what the French were doing, were likely to be taken[241]
by surprise. Whether the Frenchman's heart failed him I
know not, but when Colonel Ross reached the top of the
hill, the enemy went to the right about, and instantly retired.


I felt proud of belonging to that corps, and happy at such
a termination of this dangerous operation, and feeling a desire
I could no longer resist, I set off to join them. By
the time I reached the height just mentioned, the attack of
the Puerta was going on, and a most arduous undertaking
it was. My brigade attacked the right or strongest pass,
which they carried in fine style, without much loss, although
the enemy had a breastwork at every available point of
ground. Our 2d brigade did not attack the left Pass quite
so soon as the other, and when they had got about half way
up they encountered the most formidable opposition.


A redoubt which the enemy possessed was filled with
men, who waited till our battalion came within a few yards
of them, and then poured in the most destructive fire imaginable,
making the battalion recoil, and leaving one-third
of its numbers on the ensanguined ground. But the 52d
regiment being close behind, promptly supported them
when rushing on together to the charge, and the French,
after some hard fighting, were finally driven from this
stronghold. After this they never made any obstinate
stand, although there was occasional fighting all the way
from the Pass down into the plain below, where some of
our people followed them; but it not being intended to quit
for the present this high and formidable barrier, they were
afterwards recalled. The boundary lines passed along this
ridge.


We lost a few men on ascending the first hill, and a few
in skirmishing afterwards, but our loss was not severe. But
that of the 2d battalion, before noticed, was awful; several[242]
of that battalion who fell in this action had only a few days
before joined from England, and this was their first action.
On looking at the ground on which this affair took place,
one would imagine it almost impossible that any army could
force a passage through such innumerable difficulties. The
hill itself was nearly impassable, and with the numerous
redoubts and breastworks, with which it was literally
covered, no troops in the world, I think, but British, would
have dared to attempt it.


We found that the French, who occupied this station,
had rendered themselves extremely comfortable, considering
the kind of country and ground where they were posted.
They had been at great pains in building very convenient
and substantial huts in lines and streets, the same as an
encampment, and which were indeed remarkably clean and
neat. They had even built arm-racks at the end of each
line, where their arms were stowed away most securely, and
where they were preserved from the effects of the bad
weather. Indeed, from the pains they had taken to render
themselves comfortable here, it would appear as if they had
not expected to be driven from it so soon.


The left of our army, under Sir Thomas Graham, also
established themselves within the French territory. A corps
of Spaniards on our left, between us and Sir Thomas, had
likewise made a forward movement corresponding with the
British. Some Spaniards were on the right of our division
also, and were destined to drive the French from La Rhune,
an exceeding high rock, which overlooks all the other mountains,
as well as the plain below. This they failed to accomplish,
the enemy keeping possession all that night, and the
skirmishing between the two forces continuing till after
dark.


My battalion was sent on the outpost duty in the evening[243]
down into the French plain below, and relieved the
Spanish General Longa, whose corps, with our 2d brigade,
were ordered to assist in the morning in dislodging the
enemy from La Rhune. I will not say whether the sight of
the red-coats coming against them the next morning had
the effect of alarming them, but they certainly evacuated
that exceedingly strong post without much farther opposition,
and established themselves on a similar rock, but lower,
on the French side, and called by them Petit or Little Rhune.
But the possession of this lofty peak gave us the power of
overlooking all their movements for miles around us, as
well as of surveying La Belle France as far as the eye could
see, and indeed, compared with the bleak and barren mountains
in which we had so long been residing, it did appear
a beautiful country, although, in reality, it is far from being
such. But we gazed upon it with strange and mingled
emotions, hardly believing it possible that we had now
reached and entered the territory of that once formidable
nation whose victorious armies had penetrated to the farthest
confines of Europe, who had overrun and subdued some of
the most warlike nations of the continent, and who had so
often threatened, and as often alarmed, the inhabitants of
England with the invasion of that sacred soil, on which
never yet a Frenchman has dared, in hostile array, to set
his foot since the days of the Norman William, but who
met there either with a prison or a grave.


We now pitched our camps by battalions, each occupying
a post more or less important, and the enemy began again
to construct their huts, and make themselves as comfortable
as their circumstances would admit; Soult, no doubt, being
mightily chagrined that we had now fairly beat them out of
Spain, when he (as we now learnt) had promised his followers
that he would soon lead them again to the plains of[244]
Vittoria, where they might again retrieve their lost honours,
and at which city they would celebrate the Emperor's birthday.
He thus boasted, and no doubt would have effected his
purpose, had he not been so promptly met near Pamplona
by his never-to-be outmanœuvred antagonist.


We now began to suffer greatly from the severity of the
weather. It became exceedingly wet and stormy; and not
infrequently the tents were blown away from over our
heads, or the pole was forced up through the top, letting
the wet canvass fall comfortably down about our ears while
we were perhaps in a sound sleep. I had two streams flowing
past my head, one went round the trench outside my
tent, while the other I was fain to let pass through it; their
murmurs lulled me to sleep, and I do not remember that
ever I slept sounder than I did here, having made my couch
comfortable by gathering dry fern, and spreading my mattress
upon it.


Whilst we remained here, a few officers were appointed
to watch the motions of the enemy from an old work which
we understood had been constructed by the Spaniards and
emigrant French against their revolutionary neighbours,
whom they endeavoured to keep from entering Spain; and,
of course, this was the daily lounge of those who had no
better employment, not only that they might themselves
see, but hear also from others what of importance was passing.
On one of these occasions, a vessel was descried (for
the sea was not more than five or six miles from us) making
for the harbour of Bayonne, or St Jean de Luz, with
a small schooner following her in chase, and every now and
then giving her a shot. The vessel, (which turned out to
be a French brig going with provisions for the few Frenchmen
who still retained the castle of Santona,) seeing she
could not get clear of her unwelcome neighbours, her crew[245]
set her on fire, and taking to their boats, abandoned her,
and escaped on shore—she soon after blew up with a tremendous
explosion.


On the 31st of this month Pamplona surrendered, the
garrison, consisting of 4000 men, under Major-general Cassan,
the governor, becoming prisoners of war. They had
been compelled to adopt this measure from sheer starvation,
of which they, I understand, had suffered dreadfully. I
happened to be at Passages on the day they reached that
port, where they embarked, on their way to England. The
General was a stout, handsome, and intelligent-looking man,
and such a one as I should imagine would make a noble officer.
The soldiers seemed quite unconcerned about their
fate; whether from the change being actually an improvement
of their condition, or from the lightness and gaiety of
their natural temper, I know not, but they were jesting
and making as merry as if nothing had happened.


During the time we lay on these mountains, I regret to
state my gallant and respected commanding-officer, Colonel
Ross, suffered so much from rheumatism, that he was compelled
to leave the regiment, and take up his abode at
Rentaria, a village near to Passages.


It was reported that Lord Wellington intended attacking
the enemy along his whole line, early in November, but the
weather having rendered the roads impassable, it was postponed.
On the day previous to the intended attack, the commanding-officers
had been taken up to La Rhune, and the
post that each corps had to occupy, with the movements
they were intended to make, were clearly pointed out to
them; an excellent plan, when practicable, as it leaves no
one any excuse for mistakes or blunders during the action.


At length, on the 10th of that month, I believe, it was[246]
settled to take place; but on the 9th I was ordered to set
off with the mules of the battalion, to fetch corn from
Passages, a distance of about thirty miles. I suspected this
was a scheme of the captain I before mentioned, as one of
the committee of paymastership, in order the more effectually
to keep me out of danger, for certainly had any thing
serious happened me, they would have had some difficulty
in rendering their accounts. It was not quite certain the
attack was to take place next day, although it had been so
rumoured; however, I was determined to try and reach the
division as early as possible on that day. I accordingly got
my business done in Passages as early as I could get the
commissary to work; and having got the corn, and come
on to Rentaria, which I reached about mid-day, I took the
liberty of leaving the animals in the charge of the non-commissioned
officer who had accompanied me; and calling
on Colonel Ross, obtained his permission to let the sergeant
proceed in charge of them to the regiment, while I might,
if I chose, push on at a quicker rate. I had heard by this
time, that the action had commenced by daylight that
morning. I accordingly set off at as quick a pace as my
starved animal could carry me; and passing Irun, and crossing
the Bidassoa, and keeping along the great road for a considerable
distance, I then inclined to my right, and skirted
the Pyrenees along the whole plain. I had thus an opportunity
of witnessing the conflict carrying on by the left
wing of our army, as I passed along towards La Rhune,
but with every exertion of myself and my poor jaded horse,
night closed in upon me before I had nearly reached the
station of the light division. I was compelled to work my
way through a country which I had not hitherto passed,
and which having been the scene of a sanguinary combat,[247]
presented no very pleasing aspect. At last I heard some
strange and foreign voices before me, for it was now quite
dark, on which I turned into a field, and waited till they
passed, by which I learned they were Spaniards. I was apprehensive
I might have kept too far to the left, and had
got into the French lines, which would not have been so
comfortable; but after finding them to be men of General
Frere's Spanish division, I then had hopes of shortly meeting
with my own people. Directed by those good Spaniards,
I at last reached Petit La Rhune, the late formidable position
of the enemy, on which the blazes from a thousand of
their huts were rising to the clouds, and enlightening the
atmosphere around. But it being now ten o'clock, I found
myself incapable of proceeding farther, more particularly as
the Portuguese, among whom I now found myself, could
not give me any certain directions which way my division
had gone. I was fain therefore to take up my abode, and
gladly did so, in a cottage with Colonel St Clair and several
other officers of the sixth Caçadores. Let it not be supposed
that a fighting disposition induced me to use so much
exertion to reach my division on this occasion—no; but as
I considered that a sort of trick had been played off upon
me, I did what I could to render it nugatory; no man liking,
as I imagine, to be the dupe of any other party's manœuvres,
with whatever friendly intention these may have been put in
operation. I arose next morning early, and hastened to
the point where I expected to meet my brave comrades,
anxious to learn the fate of all I loved amongst them. I
saw them and the third division at a considerable distance,
each on a height in front, appearing like flocks of sheep
huddled together as close as possible. I soon reached them,
and learned with sorrow, that the brave Colonel Barnard
was, as they supposed, mortally wounded, the ball having[248]
passed through the chest, and that little Lieutenant Doyle
was killed.


This was a most stupendous action; the scene of operations
extending from right to left, embracing, I imagine, not
less than thirty miles of country. The centre had fallen to
the share of my division, which, in the eyes of the best
judges, was the strongest part of the enemy's line, for it had
been fortified with the most consummate skill, and no labour
had been spared to render it impregnable, as the enemy
had been busily employed in the construction of forts, redoubts,
and other field-works of every denomination, from
the day we drove them from the Pass of Vera; one in particular,
a stone built fort, in the shape of a star, was exceedingly
strong, and which was attacked and carried in the finest
style possible, I understand, by the 43d regiment; the 52d
also surrounded a fort in which the French 88th regiment
was posted, the brave commander of which not having received
any orders to evacuate it, remained till the retreat of
the French left him no other alternative than to surrender
at discretion. The part my battalion had to play, was to
cross the valley separating the two La Rhunes in double
quick time, and attack the French rock by a gorge, which
allowed a passage from that valley into their position. This
was to be in conjunction with the attack of the Star Fort
by the 43d, as it in some measure took that work in reverse.
In short, every corps in the division, and I believe in the
army, had a most arduous duty to perform, and most nobly
did they execute it. The left of our army, under Sir
Thomas Graham, did not succeed in driving the enemy
from his innumerable works which covered St Jean de Luz,
and which he retained possession of till the next morning;
when the centre, that is the 3d and light divisions, together
with the Spaniards on our right and left centre, made a[249]
movement in advance, and crossed the Nivelle river, from
which this action derives its name. Our movement, which
threatened to separate the wings of the French army, caused
the enemy to abandon his strong position in front of
St Jean de Luz, as well as that town, on which occasion he
attempted, and partly succeeded in destroying the bridge
over the Nivelle at that place; but it being soon after repaired,
Sir Thomas Graham's corps took up their quarters
in the town.


We encamped for the night in front of the village of
Serres, or Sarre, or Zarre. It had rained hard all the day
of the 11th, and it continued almost without intermission
till our camp was literally swimming. I remember perfectly
that the water in my tent was several inches deep; and
when I awoke in the morning, I found a Portuguese boy
(who had followed us, and had attached himself to our mess
as a sort of servant) was sitting holding by the tent-pole,
that being the only place where he could find rest for the
sole of his foot. In short, we were as wet, clothes and beds
and all, as if we had been dragged through a river. The
evening before, I well remember, we had been highly
amused by my Scotch quartermaster-sergeant and his
friends, who had taken up their abode close by, singing, till
they rather grew tiresome,



"We are nae fou', we're nae that fou',

But just a drappie in our e'e."




This of course was done to drive away dull care, and to
make the best of an uncomfortable situation.


The next day towards afternoon, a considerable firing
was heard on our right, which had continued but a short
while, till our gallant and unwearied Chief came galloping
up, with some few of his staff following, who could with[250]
difficulty keep pace with him, and asking most anxiously
whereabouts and what the firing was. We could only
point out the direction in which we heard it, but could
give him no account as to its cause. Away he galloped
in the direction we pointed out, and no doubt soon reached
the spot.


I forgot to mention, that a man of the Brunswick Oels
corps had been hung the day before for plundering by the
Provost Marshal, no doubt in compliance with superior
orders. It was necessary thus to give the army an example
of severity, in order to deter them from committing those
acts to which all armies are but too prone. We found
indeed very little to plunder, had we been so inclined; for
the greater part of the inhabitants had left their houses,
taking every thing portable with them. This they had been
induced to do from the false statements which Soult had
set forth in some proclamations he issued about this time,
in which he described the English as savages, nay, even as
cannibals, who would not scruple to commit the most monstrous
atrocities; so ignorant were the generality of these
poor peasants, that many of them implicitly believed his
representations. This, no doubt, was done with the view
of raising the whole population in arms against us, in order
to defend their homes against such a set of wretches as he
made it appear we were; but, although many of the natives
joined the French army at this time, with which they were
incorporated and led to battle, the result of his famous proclamations
was not equal to his expectations; for a great
part of them declined warlike proceedings, and retired into
the interior of the country with their families, leaving only
a very small proportion indeed who remained in their
houses. As might be expected, the empty houses suffered
dreadfully; every piece of furniture almost being destroyed,[251]
either for fire-wood, or in seeking for valuables; while the
houses of those who remained in general escaped.


General Harispe, being a Basque himself, had the organizing
of the new levies now raised; indeed, many of these
had taken a part in the irruption into Spain on the 25th
July for the relief of Pamplona, and many of them fell on
that occasion. We were not so fully aware of the extent
of the misrepresentation to which Soult had gone in these
proclamations, till some time after we had entered France,
and had penetrated considerably into the interior, when
some of our officers, either during or after a march, entered
the cottage of a peasant who had not left his home, to get
a little milk. The poor woman was remarkably civil, offering
them any thing the house afforded. They got some
milk, for which they offered her money, but which she
declined. Her child was running about the house at this
time, which, coming near one of the officers, he took it
between his knees, and patted it on the head, with which
the child seemed very well pleased; but the poor mother,
standing at a little distance, and eyeing most intently every
motion of the officer, was like to swoon with fear and agitation.
But as the mother had declined receiving any thing
for the milk, the officer who had the child gave it some
small coin, and letting it go, it ran to its mother, who
snatched it up into her arms with the utmost joy, and altering
her look, began to say, she thought they had been
deceived; for that they had been led to believe from the
proclamations of Soult, that we were such barbarians that
we would not scruple to kill and eat their children, and
which was the cause of her late fear and anxiety, as she
expected the officer had taken the child for that purpose;
but now she found we were not such people as she had been
led to believe. Of course the officer laughed most heartily[252]
at having been suspected of a man-eating propensity, and
soon convinced the poor woman that the English were not
quite such barbarians as that, whatever she might have
heard to the contrary.


[253]


CHAPTER XII.


The British Army advance farther into France—Pass the Nive—Soult's
Plans baffled—Two or three battalions of the Nassau and
Frankfort regiments come over from the French—French Politesse—Threatened
Attack by the French—Battle of the Nive—Account of
the Basques.


We left our wet camp on the 15th, and advanced to the
village of Arbonne, where, for the first time during the
campaign, we were quartered in houses, except once or twice.
During our stay in the camp at Serres, or Zarre, we sent
our baggage animals to Passages for corn, on which occasion
I lost another horse, the batman pretending it had
been stolen, but which, no doubt, he sold, as that trick had
often been resorted to by this time, and there was no detecting
it.


On the 17th we left Arbonne, and advanced to Arcangues,
sending forward picquets to the village of Bassozari,
about half a mile in front. My battalion took up into
quarters in some straggling houses in front of the church
of Arcangues, while our first battalion occupied the chateau
and outhouses of Arcangues, about a quarter of a mile to the
right and front of the church. The enemy's picquets were[254]
close to Bassozari, so that in some places scarcely a quarter
of a mile intervened between our quarters and their outposts.
They allowed us to take up our outposts very
quietly, they being now established in their intrenched
camp in front of Bayonne, and which was not far distant from
our advance. There were some houses in the line of posts
occupied by the French, which, if in our possession, would
add greatly both to our security and convenience, and which
it was determined to wrest from them if practicable.


Accordingly, on the 23d the division was put under arms,
and our brigade, being in front, had this task assigned to
them. The 43d, not having had so much work during the
campaign as our two battalions had, was selected for the
purpose of driving in the enemy's picquets, whilst we supported
them. They accordingly attacked and carried the
houses without a moment's delay; but unfortunately, Captain
Hobkirk of that regiment, advancing with his company
beyond the line at which it was intended to halt, got immediately
in front of some of their intrenchments, from which
he could not extricate himself, in consequence of which our
first battalion was ordered to advance to cover his retreat;
but he had by this time fallen into the hands of the enemy,
with a considerable number of his men: his lieutenant was
killed, and altogether the company suffered great loss. The
remainder retreated, our first battalion people holding the
houses it was intended to occupy. This occurred on the
left of the ridge.


On the right, and adjoining a marsh which separated us
from some high ground near the river Nive, and which was
occupied by another division of our army, were two or three
houses also which it was intended to take, as their possession
secured us a passage across this marsh by a causeway,
which connected two eminences, that on which we stood,[255]
and that occupied by the other division, the principal object
upon the latter being a large chateau called Garratt's House.
One company of the 43d also took those houses, supported
by some more of that regiment and my battalion; but after
they were taken, from what cause I know not, an order
was sent to evacuate them, on which the 43d retired.
Soon after, they were again ordered to be re-occupied, when
a company of ours advanced, and took possession, but had
not been there many minutes till another order was sent
for them to be evacuated. This order, however, had scarcely
reached them, when a charge was made on them by a body
of French cavalry, supported by a strong column of infantry.
The officer who commanded the company, either from the
order he had received, or from want of presence of mind,
called to his men to run to the rear when the cavalry
charged him, by which he did not suffer much in point of
losing men, for only one was wounded by the cavalry; but
it had a bad appearance to run away from cavalry, a description
of force which we had learnt by this time almost to
despise, especially as, from his post, he might have knocked
down great numbers of them, and finally have repulsed
them, had he allowed his men to fire. The houses were,
however, eventually taken possession of by another company
of our battalion the next day, which retained them in
despite of the enemy. The man who was wounded by the
cavalry was shot in the head by a pistol ball: he came to
the surgeon, where the main body of the battalion was standing,
to be dressed; while this was doing, and the orderly
man holding a tin-full of water near, from which the surgeon
was sponging and cleaning the wound, a ball came,
and, striking the tin, carried it right out from between the
hands of the orderly. I was standing close by, and shall
not easily forget the blank look which, as might be expected,[256]
the poor orderly put on. There was a good deal of firing
all day, which, except what the 43d suffered, as before noticed,
did little damage to the brigade.


On the occasion of our company taking these houses the
next day, a very young officer, who happened to command
it, evinced great fortitude and presence of mind. He advanced
on the enemy, who, being then rather inclined to
quietness, retreated gradually before him; but after reaching
the hedge, just beyond the principal house, told him
(for they were quite near enough to speak) that he must
not advance any farther, or they would be compelled to fire
on him. The young fellow, solicitous about nothing but
obeying his orders, told them that he was determined to have
the house, and immediately putting his men under the best
cover he could, called out that they might begin to fire
whenever they pleased, he was ready for them. This young
officer (whose name was Cary, and brother to my friend
who fell at Badajos) spoke excellent French, so that the
enemy understood him perfectly. The enemy did not contend
any longer for the post, but planted their sentries
within about thirty yards of ours. These sentries, indeed,
were still so posted as to prevent a passage across by the
causeway, had they been so inclined; but the next day I
went with another officer across by this road, on which
occasion we actually passed to the rear of the French
sentries.


A disposition had for some time been gaining ground
with both armies, to mitigate the miseries of warfare, as
much as was consistent with each doing their duty to their
country; and it had by this time proceeded to such an
extent, as to allow us to place that confidence in them that
they would not molest us even if we passed their outposts
for the purpose I have mentioned. And this mutual confidence[257]
in each other was productive of the most comfortable
results to both parties. We could move about at any time,
and almost in any place, shooting or otherwise amusing
ourselves, without the dread of falling in with an enemy's
patrol, or of getting among their sentries. They never
molested us from this time, except when we either advanced
upon them, or they upon us, in hostile array. Our division
had two main picquets; all this took place at the right
picquet. A few days after I happened to be at the advanced
post on the left, commanded by one of my battalion, when
the French officers beckoned to us. We, to show we were
peaceably inclined, pulled off our swords, and advanced to
meet them. A number of inhabitants, who had left their
houses on our first entering the country, having heard that
we were not what we had been represented, were desirous
of returning to their homes, and the officers wished us to
admit them, and see them safe through the advanced posts.
This of course we gladly promised, and the poor people
were quite overjoyed at being permitted to visit their dwelling-places
once again; but, poor creatures, I fear they would
find little there except the bare walls, if indeed these remained
entire, for, from the reasons before assigned, it could
scarcely be expected that houses without inhabitants, in the
midst of an invading army, would be much respected. Each
individual among them, old and young, carried heavy bundles
on their heads, no doubt they having removed every thing
that was valuable, if portable.


The French officers were extremely polite, and asked us
many questions of the news of the day, &c.; but the commander-in-chief,
hearing of the familiarity which subsisted
between the two armies, issued an order, prohibiting British
officers from holding conversations with the enemy; for as
all these conversations were necessarily conducted in French,[258]
(very few indeed of their officers being able to speak English,)
he was apprehensive they might gain such information
from our people, from their imperfect knowledge of the
French language, as might materially injure our future
proceedings. Before this order was issued, the most unbounded
confidence subsisted between us, and which it was
a pity to put a stop to, except for such weighty reasons.
They used to get us such things as we wanted from Bayonne,
particularly brandy, which was cheap and plentiful, and we
in return gave them occasionally a little tea, of which some
of them had learnt to be fond. Some of them also, who had
been prisoners of war in England, sent letters through our
army-post to their sweethearts in England, our people receiving
the letters and forwarding them. They told us also
how Hobkirk was situated, and were astonished at the extent
and splendour of his equipage, (for he was a great
dandy,) and could scarcely be persuaded he was only a
captain.


My present commanding-officer, who was the senior
captain, and in whose mess I then was, had sent to England,
and got out from thence two immense pies, weighing
nearly a hundred-weight each, and packed in tin cases.
They were composed of every kind of game, and the best
description of fowls, such as turkeys, &c., with the bones
taken out, and the meat baked till it became like brawn
when cut in slices. They were most excellent. One of
these he had made a present of to our Major-general, and
the other we were eating in the mess. We had also at this
time a considerable quantity of good wine, which, by some
accident, we had got hold of. We also had bought a pig
and killed it, both living quite sumptuously at present, and
having a good stock for future use.


But while we ourselves fared so well, our poor horses[259]
and mules were literally starving. There was no kind of
forage for them, except what they could pick up in the now
completely exhausted fields around us. We had nothing
else to give them.


In this way we were going on, when, on the 9th of December,
Lord Wellington, determining on passing the Nive,
preparatory to future operations, ordered our division and
all the left, under Sir John Hope, who had now succeeded
Sir Thomas Graham, to make a movement in advance, in
order that the enemy's attention might be attracted to this
point, while he threw over some divisions to the right bank
of that river. My battalion had to advance along the ridge
by which I had formerly passed in peace, to meet the returning
inhabitants, as may be recollected; but now the
face of affairs was completely altered;—a heavy fire was
kept up by the French picquets from the moment they saw
us advance in arms, but we soon drove them from their
advanced works, and they were obliged to take shelter in
their intrenched camp, which was remarkably strong, and
which it was not intended we should attack. We accordingly
halted on the brow of the ridge, while they kept up
an incessant fire, both from their guns and infantry, but
which, considering its extent and duration, was not by any
means a destructive fire.


Sir John Hope had a more laborious task to perform, or
else his troops went beyond the point intended, for they
continued the fight nearly all day, and at one time were
considerably in advance, but afterwards recalled.


The passage of the Nive was completely effected, and in
the evening we returned to our comfortable houses, a short
distance in the rear, and went to bed as usual. Next
morning, however, very early, orders were given to turn
out immediately, and stand to our arms, for the enemy was[260]
advancing; and indeed, when I came to the door, I heard a
good deal of firing. The troops turned out at once, but the
mules were to get, and the baggage to pack, and send
away to the rear, or it might be lost; so I set myself about
this with all dispatch; but before any of it was put up, I
saw posting by me, with all expedition, a civil officer, who
had only a short while joined us, and who, in his hurry, had
put up all he could scrape together on his horse, on which
he himself was riding. His boots, tied together, were slung
over the horse's neck, and in short he looked more like a
bagman than an officer, from the number of things he had
hanging about him. It was most laughable to see him. I
called out and asked him why he was in such a hurry, but
he did not stop to give me an answer.


I got up our baggage very well, but what to do with the
pie, the pig, and the wine, I knew not, so was constrained
to leave them as they were, hoping we might not allow the
enemy to penetrate so far. I then moved off the baggage,
and, directing the servants who had charge of it to proceed
up a lane which carried them towards the rear, I moved on
and joined the battalion. Just as I reached the plateau, or
high ground in front of the church of Arcangues, I met an
officer of ours to whom I had lately lent a fine young mare,
for which I had not food sufficient; and he having no horse
himself, I thought he would take care of her; but here I
met him going into the fight riding on the poor animal,
although scarcely able to drag one leg behind the other. I
remonstrated with him, but he did not mind me. The result
was as might have been anticipated—she soon after
dropped down, unable to move farther, and died; thus I
lost L.35 more, which she had cost me. By this time the
enemy had driven in the regiment which had been on
picquet, and one or two of our companies were sent forward[261]
to cover their retreat to the church behind us, where they
were ordered to take post, it being a high and fine position,
and had by this time been partly fortified. My people
retired gradually before the enemy, who now advanced in
great numbers.


Our 1st battalion were not so fortunate in effecting their
retreat. An officer and some men having got into a
hollow way, were surrounded by the enemy and taken;
another was killed; and another, with his section, had to
force their way through a strong body which had got in his
rear. My battalion did not fall into any scrape of that
nature, but sustained a considerable loss in killed and
wounded, from the vast superiority of the enemy in point
of numbers, who, no doubt, did not escape with impunity.
We held our ground at the bottom of the hill on which the
church is built, the French not being able to force us
farther back; the 1st battalion, at the same time, holding
the fence and ditch in front of the Chateau, as well as that
building itself. But a rather unpleasant occurrence took
place at this time. When the enemy appeared on the
plateau before mentioned, a regiment behind us, without
orders, I believe, opened a heavy fire upon them, several
shots of which struck among our men. One of them went in
at the back of one of our soldiers, and killed him on the spot;
another penetrated the back window of a house into which
a party of ours had entered for defence, and very near
struck an officer, who was in the room at the time. These
shots must have been fired either by young soldiers, who
scarcely knew how they pointed their muskets, or they
must have taken our people for the enemy, from which,
indeed, they were not far distant. I am confident it was
purely accidental, for no two corps could be on better terms[262]
than that regiment and ours always were. The skirmishing
continued till dark.


This was one of a series of masterly movements between
the two contending generals. Lord Wellington having
sent a pretty strong force across the Nive, as before mentioned,
Soult imagined he had so weakened his force on the
left, as to render it probable he might penetrate it, and thus
cause his lordship to withdraw his troops again from the
right bank of the Nive; but he was anticipated; for Lord
Wellington had no sooner established himself on the other
side of the Nive, than he brought one of the supporting
divisions of that movement to support us at the church of
Arcangues, it being an important post to hold; so that, when
we looked behind us, after we retired into position, we saw
innumerable bayonets glistening in the sun, and ready to
move forward whenever they should be required; but they
never were wanted here, the light division being quite sufficient
to sustain any attack the enemy had yet made on
them. This, however, showed the provident care of his
lordship, and how completely he had penetrated Soult's
design.


This night two or three battalions of the Nassau and
Frankfort regiments came over and left the French. They
had heard that the Dutch had declared against Bonaparte,
and wished to be transported to Holland, with all their
arms and appointments, which they brought with them.
We remained in bivouack on the ridge extending between
the church and chateau of Arcangues all night, our picquets
remaining in possession of the houses and hedges at the
bottom of the hill, where we stopped the French in the
morning. I visited the picquets at night, in company with
my commanding-officer, where we found all well, and alert.
The next day, there being no firing between us and those[263]
in our front, three French officers, seemingly anxious to
prove how far politeness and good breeding could be carried
between the two nations, when war did not compel
them to be unfriendly, took a table and some chairs out of
a house which was immediately in our front, and one which
we had lately occupied as a barrack; and bringing them
down into the middle of the field, which separated the advance
of the two armies, sat down within 100 yards of our
picquet, and drank wine, holding up their glasses, as much
as to say your health, every time they drank. Of course
we did not molest them, but allowed them to have their
frolic out.


During the day, also, we saw soldiers of the three nations,
viz. English, Portuguese, and French, all plundering
at the same time in one unfortunate house, where our pie,
our pig, and wine had been left. It stood about 150 or
200 yards below the church, on a sort of neutral ground
between the two armies; hence the assemblage at the same
moment of such a group of these motley marauders. They
plundered in perfect harmony, no one disturbing the other
on account of his nation or colour. There were a great
number of apples in it at the time we left it, belonging to
the owner of the house, but when we returned, two or three
days afterwards, the desolation was complete. Our once
comfortable quarter contained nothing now but filth and
dirt. One poor girl had remained in it all the while, but
she could not save one article; indeed, in such a case it
would have been a service of danger to attempt it.


At night one of our sergeants played the French a trick.
He took with him a few men, and, knowing the ground
well, they passed the French sentry unobserved, having
reached the house at the top of the field out of which they
had brought the table, &c., where their picquet was stationed.[264]
He made a rush at their arms, which he found piled
in front of the house, and set to work and broke them before
the French had time to recover from the consternation
into which they were thrown by so unexpected an assault.
He and his party then came running off without sustaining
any injury. He was a most determined brave soldier this,
but afterwards lost an arm at Toulouse, and was of course
discharged with a pension.


On the 12th, the enemy made a mighty show of attacking
our position, having greatly increased their force in
front of us, and had, some way or other, found the means
of spreading a report in our lines that 1800 grenadiers had
been chosen to lead on the attack. They also traced out
batteries, and cut embrasures, apparently with the intention
of burning or knocking down the chateau of Arcangues, the
owner of which remained in it all this time, and was rather
suspected of holding correspondence with his countrymen.
It is not unlikely it was by his means the report above
alluded to was propagated. Every thing now wore a serious
aspect, and of course every thing was done to render
their attack abortive. All were animated with the best
disposition to defend the post to the last extremity; but
while the generality believed all these preparations were
serious, there were others who thought it only a ruse de
guerre; indeed, had our friends, the German hussars,
(with whom we had often acted in concert,) been here at
this time, it is more than probable they would have been
strongly inclined to the latter opinion, for they scarcely
ever saw the French make a great bustle and noise, as if
about immediately to advance and attack, but they would
coolly say, after eyeing them awhile, "Oh, he not come
to-day!" "He go away!" and were generally certain of being
right. So full of trick and artifice are our French antagonists,[265]
that they generally act in quite a contrary manner
to what appearances indicate. But they began to be known;
hence the scepticism of some of our people on the present
occasion. Accordingly, about midnight, when the attack
was to have been made, away they went, and retired nearly
into their lines, leaving only a few to keep the ground.


At daylight next morning we again moved forward, on
which there was a good deal of firing between the Portuguese
battalion that had followed them and their rearguard;
but when our people advanced to our old post on the ridge,
I, happening to be first, took off my cap, and, putting it on
the top of my sword, held it up, which the French taking
for a signal of peace, as it was intended, the firing on both
sides ceased, each party taking up the post they held previous
to the late movements. We wondered why the French
had retired, but presently heard a tremendously heavy firing
in the direction of the Nive. Soult, it seems, had withdrawn
nearly all his troops from our flank, and marching
rapidly through Bayonne, had attacked General Hill, who
commanded on the other side of the Nive, with great impetuosity,
thinking Lord Wellington had weakened that force
to strengthen us; but here again Soult was outwitted, for
he found on that side quite sufficient to give him as sound
a drubbing as he ever got; the Portuguese on this occasion,
I understand, performing wonders.


These five days' fighting (for on every day there was
firing, more or less, in one part or other of the line) were
called the Battle of the Nive. We had had three days' work
of it—they on our right two—and Sir John Hope's people,
on our left, four, I believe, and they not trifling ones. In
every thing Soult undertook, he was completely foiled—all
his schemes having been clearly seen through by his more
sagacious opponent. Indeed he had inflicted a heavy loss on[266]
our left wing, commanded by Sir John Hope, where the
fighting had been most severe, but no doubt he suffered
equally, if not more severely than they did. I am told that
the enemy's light troops were most insolent and annoying
to our heavy regiments on the left, on this occasion. What
a pity that they could not have been opposed by troops of
a similar description!


It may be remembered the civil officer of whom I made
mention, as having rode away with the greater part of his
wardrobe hanging about his horse; he was more fortunate
than we were, for the things which he left, his kind landlady
took care of, and hid in some snug corner till the business
was over, and on his return restored them all to him.
He said the cause of his going off in such a hurry arose
from a cannon-shot having struck the lintel of the door or
window of his house while he was in the act of shaving, on
which he bundled out with whatever he could scrape together,
and set off. I verily believe it must have been the
effect of imagination, for I remained behind him at least a
quarter of an hour, and although our houses were close together,
I did not either hear or see a shot fired in that direction
till we had reached the hill, nearly an hour after; but
he constantly maintained that it was so.


We again took up our old quarters in front of the church;
but oh, how changed were they now from what they had
formerly been in point of comfort! nevertheless, they still
afforded us shelter from the inclemency of the weather.
Soon after dark on this evening, a rather unpleasant affair
occurred at the left advanced post of our division. An officer
and two men coming from the French advance, with
what intention is not known, were observed by the corporal
who was stationed at our abatis, who immediately took
out his rifle and shot the officer through the body, on which[267]
his two men lifted him up and carried him into their picquet-house.
We were apprehensive this would put an end to
that good understanding which had hitherto subsisted between
the picquets of the two nations, and much regretted
the circumstance. It is more than probable the officer was
coming as a sort of patrol, to ascertain whether or not we
had left the post, which, being a military undertaking, subjected
him to all the chances of war attendant thereon.
This is the more probable from his having two soldiers with
him armed, as I understand they were; but if it was meant
as a friendly visit, as formerly sometimes took place, it was
greatly to be lamented; however, they did not, on account
of this occurrence, manifest any soreness or ill-will afterwards,
and the mutual good understanding continued to
subsist between us.


While we remain at rest here a short space, I will endeavour
to put the reader in possession of the character of the
inhabitants, among whom we have been sojourning for a
few months past—I mean the Biscayans. From the time
we crossed the Ebro, a wonderful change took place in the
appearance of the natives; and I believe the same description
of people extend considerably into France, although
under another government; they, I understand, still retain
their ancient customs, dress, and language; they are denominated
Basques, from the name of the province, I apprehend,
which is called Biscay. They speak a different language
from either the Spaniards, who border them on one
side, or the French, on the other; and some of our officers
who spoke Welsh, said they could understand a few of their
words; it is denominated the Basque language. They generally
wear cloth of their own manufacture, which is commonly
blue, in some parts red or brown; in the neighbourhood
of Pamplona, almost always the latter. The men[268]
wear a sort of Scotch bonnet, with a short jacket and trowsers,
and are an amazingly athletic and active people. The
women wear a short jacket also, of the same colour with
their petticoat; and with their hair, which they encourage
to grow to a great length, plaited in one large plait, and
tied with a small piece of ribbon; it is allowed to hang
down their back, and almost in all cases reaches to, or below
their middle. They wear a handkerchief tastefully disposed
upon their head. They are a fine, tall, and handsome race
of women; but they have a custom of compressing their
breasts, so that they appear as flat in the bosom as the men,
which, to an English eye, is not becoming. The women do
the same kind of work as the men, that is, they plough,
and labour at all sorts of husbandry; but what seemed
most remarkable to us, was their sole management of the
ferry-boats about Passages and St Sebastian; they row as
well as any men, being amazingly strong and active; they
seem content with their lot, and always appeared cheerful
and happy. I believe they are strictly virtuous; and although
very handsome in general, they did not seem so
fond of admiration as the females of many other countries
are; upon the whole, I think they resemble the Welsh
more than any other people with whom I am acquainted;
their countries are exceedingly similar, being mountainous,
and in general not over fruitful, so that constant labour
seems to be rendered absolutely necessary to insure to them
the means of subsistence; hence they are industrious and
frugal, and, upon the whole, an interesting and moral people.


[269]


CHAPTER XIII.


The Author's Battalion quartered in Aurantz on 3d January, 1814—The
Cantonments at Aurantz broke up on 16th February, and the
Campaign of 1814 commenced—Farther Advance into France—Skirmishing
with the Enemy—Military Manœuvres—Battle of Orthes—Defeat
and Pursuit of the Enemy—Succession of Attacks on them—They
are driven from their Position in and near Tarbes—Skirmishing
at Tournefoile—The Enemy retire towards Toulouse.


On the 3d of January 1814, we were ordered to quit a
part of the country, which, from the various occurrences
that had taken place since we first arrived in it, had, in
some measure, rendered it interesting to us. We moved a
little to the right, and crossed the Nive, and again moved
in advance about a league or more. This movement was
made in support of some operations which Lord Wellington
was conducting in the direction of the Adour, which being
completed, we returned to the Nive, and took up our cantonments
in the villages of Ustaritz and Aurantz. About
this time, nearly the whole of the peasantry, who had fled
on our entering France, were now returning to their habitations,
all fear that we should murder them, and eat their
children, having by this time been completely dissipated.[270]
Indeed we were often told after this, that they would much
prefer having a British army among them, to their own
people, for they were always haughty, they said, and overbearing,
and never scrupled to take whatever they had a
mind for, while we were orderly and quiet, and never took
an article without amply repaying the owner for it. Indeed
I am well convinced the change the poor people had made
in their lodgers was greatly for the better to them.


My battalion was quartered in the village of Aurantz,
from which we often took a stroll, to look at the scene of
our late operations. The French having, in consequence
of Lord Wellington's movements near the Adour, strengthened
their army in that direction, which of course rendered
it necessary they should contract the limits of their front
on the side towards Spain, they had consequently withdrawn
their advance considerably within their former lines.
We now also had plenty of opportunity for shooting, but
were but ill supplied with fowling-pieces, or we might have
killed an abundance of woodcocks, every thicket in the
neighbourhood being filled with them.


The weather now was extremely bad, and the roads impassable,
except by yourself wading up to the knees, or having
your horse almost continually nearly up to his belly. In consequence
of the difficulty of communicating by dragoons, on
account of the roads, telegraphs were established all along
from the right of the army, on the banks of the Adour, to
St Jean de Luz on our left, the head-quarters of the army.
While in these cantonments, an account arrived of our gallant
Major-general (Kempt) having been appointed to the
colonelcy of the 8th battalion of the 60th regiment, which
had just been raised. At the recommendation of my commanding-officer,
now Major Balvaird, the general kindly
transmitted my name to the War Office for the appointment[271]
of paymaster of his battalion; but unfortunately for me,
before my name arrived, his late Royal Highness the Duke
of York, as Colonel-in-chief of the regiment, had nominated
another person to the situation. It had always hitherto
been customary for Colonels-commandant, and not the
Colonel-in-chief, to nominate their own staff, but on this
occasion another rule was adopted, which, of course, was a
great disappointment to me, as I had, with considerable
trouble, got all my sureties, &c. prepared, although they
were now not needed.


I had, during our stay here, one or more trips to the
paymaster-general for money, for although the paymaster
of the battalion had by this time arrived, I had several
months' pay still to draw, the army being considerably in
arrear in their pay. I had thus an opportunity of visiting
St Jean de Luz, and all the enemy's late fortifications and
position in that neighbourhood, and amazingly strong they
had indeed rendered the ground in front of that town. It
was a considerable and well-built town, partaking a good
deal of both the Spanish and French character of course, it
being the first French town next to the frontier; and, as I
said before, there being very little difference between the
Basques on either side of the Bidassoa, the change of countries
in respect to inhabitants was not very observable except
among the better orders.


On the 16th of February we broke up from our cantonments
in Aurantz, and commenced the campaign of 1814,
crossing the Nive at Ustaritz, and moving on in the direction
of La Bastide de Clarence. We encamped on a wild
heath, without any village or town being near us, and again
the next morning continued our route to the place above-named,
which we reached about noon, and encamped on a
hill beyond it.


On the 22d[272] we advanced to St Palais, having passed
other villages, the names of which I have forgot, in the
intermediate days. Nothing, however, of any note occurred
in that period. On the 23d we encamped near La Chere
and Charrette; on the 24th we crossed two rapid and deep
streams of the Bidowse. The first we got over with considerable
ease,—it was the Gave de Mauleon, which we
crossed at Nabes; but the second, the Gave d'Oleron,
was not only both deeper and more rapid than the other,
but the passage seemed intended to be disputed with us;
some French cavalry having made their appearance on
the opposite bank, as we approached the river. The resistance
they could offer, however, seemed very trifling, for, on
our bringing up some guns to the bank, and a few shots
having been fired from them, and from a company of our
second battalion, they withdrew.


We now prepared to go over; accordingly, every man
was ordered to take off his pouch and buckle it on the top
of his knapsack, the ford being so deep as to take the men up
to or above the middle. On this occasion I had I know not
how many of the poor men hanging about me and my horse.
Some were holding by the stirrup, some by the tail, and
others by the mane, or wherever they could lay hold, for
the stream was so rapid as to nearly sweep them off their
legs. Indeed I understand several of those who followed
us were actually swept down, and perished.


On reaching the farther bank, we found the French had
endeavoured to render it impassable, by throwing harrows,
&c., with their spikes upmost, in the only places where you
could ascend from the river. I believe a trumpeter of the
French was all who fell on this day.


We passed through Ville Neuve, and formed in a field
beyond the village, till the whole division had got over. It[273]
was in this village where the scene between the mother, the
child, and some of our officers, took place. When joined and
formed, we moved on to a high and ugly common, not far
in rear of the village of Orion, where we bivouacked for the
night. It was most uncomfortable.


Before we reached our ground this evening, we observed,
at a short distance to our left, a body of about 200 French
infantry moving on parallel to us, but apparently making
all haste to get away in front of us. Some suggested the
idea of attacking and taking them prisoners; but as they
were rather before us, it could not have been done without
setting one of the battalions at them in double-quick time,
and which would not have been an easy operation, after a
long and fatiguing march, and fording two rivers. Besides,
as our Quartermaster-general said, it was certain they could
not be far from their support; consequently it would only
bring on an affair, which it was not the General's wish to do
at that time, for there was none near to support us should
the enemy send a force against us. This day General
Picton's division had a sharp affair at Navarreins, where
they forced the passage of the Gave we had crossed.


On the 25th, we moved forward early in the morning,
and on reaching the village of Orion, we found that Soult
had had his head-quarters the night before, with a considerable
portion of his army, in and around the village; it was
therefore fortunate we did not attack the French detachment
before mentioned, for we should certainly have had
Soult, with all his people, upon our single division. A
French band had remained in this village till our arrival,
having deserted in a body from the regiment to which they
belonged, or they, seeing they could not make their escape,
pretended to desert and join our army.


We bent our course towards Orthes, which was now only[274]
a few leagues in front of us. A man brought a cask of
excellent wine to the roadside, with the intention of giving
every man of the division a drink, but we could not wait,
and were consequently obliged to leave the good man's gift.
It showed that either good-will or fear had prompted him
to this act. I rather think the former was the cause, as he
lived some distance from the road. We had not continued
long on the march, till we heard a loud and thundering explosion
in front of us, which, as it was expected, turned
out to be the bridge of Orthes, which the enemy had
blown up. A short while after we came in sight of the
town, and one of our Portuguese Caçadore regiments being
sent forward, a smart skirmish commenced between them
and the French, who had been left on and about the bridge
to prevent our repairing it. I foolishly went down to see
what was going on, and had nigh paid for my curiosity.


We took up our ground behind a height which overlooked
the town, through which the enemy were passing in
large columns. In consequence of this, we got some guns
into a field in front of our hill, and commenced a cannonade
upon them, which, we could observe, made them hurry
their pace considerably. They also brought some heavy
field-guns to bear upon us, and fired some shots, but without
doing us much injury. Throughout the whole of the
road by which the French had come before us, desolation
and misery marked their footsteps; and in the village of
Orion, where Soult himself had slept the night before, nothing
could exceed the despair and misery of the few remaining
inhabitants, who told us they had been literally
stripped of their all; indeed, they appeared most forlorn
and wretched beings, and, as might be expected, poured out
the most heavy and bitter complaints, not unmingled with
imprecations, on the heads of their plundering countrymen.[275]
I went into a poor weaver's house here, where, if I mistake
not greatly, the marauders had actually cut the web he was
weaving out of the loom, and carried it off with them.


We remained on this ground all night, and the next
morning his lordship was intently occupied for a considerable
time in reconnoitring the enemy's position. At
length, as if he had fully made up his mind how to act, he
ordered our division to fall in, which was promptly obeyed;
then, sending his staff with directions, we were ordered to
file to the right, and to move down towards the river,
apparently with the intention of crossing a little above the
bridge, which had been destroyed. On the other side,
immediately opposite what appeared to be the ford, were
large bodies of infantry, together with a great quantity of
artillery.


I recollect my battalion was leading the division, and it
appeared at this moment as if we were going to be engaged in
a most arduous and hazardous undertaking; for the enemy's
artillery would have swept us off the face of the earth before
we could possibly have reached the farther bank; however,
this was only a ruse de guerre, and a most deep-planned
and well-executed one it was; for while we were
moving down towards the river, a staff-officer came riding,
and ordered us all to hide as much as possible from the view
of the enemy, by crouching down, &c. as we moved along.
It may seem rather paradoxical to be ordered thus to act, at
the same time that we wished the enemy to observe our
movement; but the fact is, there were probably a thousand
eyes fixed on us all the time we lay here, and who watched
most closely our every movement; consequently, we could
not stir without the enemy being aware of it; and if on this
occasion we had made a show and a parade of our movement,
it would have been suspected as only a feint at once,[276]
as the French themselves, from often practising this stratagem,
would have penetrated immediately our object. But
our Chief went a step too deep for them, adepts as they are
in all the arts of this kind; for he made a pretence of
hiding from them his movement, knowing well that we
were observed; and this completely deceived them. This
threat of crossing here was made in order to favour the
construction of a bridge about eight or ten miles down the
river, and the crossing there by another division, as they
were thus enabled to guess where the principal force for
opposition would be required. I believe a better planned
or more successful stratagem was never practised. But I
own, when we were marching down to the river to cross
in front of the immense masses which we saw ready to oppose
us, I believed that few would survive to tell the tale
hereafter.


The moment when we were just opening from the covered
ground to plunge into the river, we were instantly
countermarched with all expedition, and moved down the
river at a quick pace till we reached the pontoon bridge
which had been so successfully constructed and thrown
over at the village of Sala. This being now perfectly safe,
we encamped at the village for the night.


On the morning of the 27th, we early crossed the river
called the Gave de Pau, and moved forward in the direction
of the town of Orthes by the great road. On the right
bank of that river, when we came within about two miles
of the town, we were moved more to our left, ascending the
high ridge which runs parallel with the river, and on which
the French had taken up a strong position, and were said
to be between 30,000 and 40,000 strong. One division had
been ordered to move along the summit of this ridge, on
which ran the great road to Peyrehourade, and to attack the[277]
enemy on that flank, while our division communicated with
that and the 3d division to our right. When the action
was commenced, the 2d division had been directed to ford
above the bridge, where our feint had been made the day
before, and passing through the town, to attack on the
opposite flank, and thus cut off their retreat towards the
Pau. The enemy's position proved to be exceedingly
strong, and difficult of access by us.


The action commenced by the 4th division attacking on
the road leading along the ridge, where an obstinate and
bloody conflict took place, without our people being able to
make any impression. The attack of the 3d division, on our
right, also commenced immediately after; but such was the
nature of the ground on this side, being mostly in long
pointed ridges, running out like the rays of a star, and
which were exceedingly strong, that no efforts were able to
force them from this ground.


General Hill had by this time got over the river, and
was approaching the position. My division, having been
deprived of two of its regiments, which had been sent, previous
to the commencement of our operations this spring,
to receive their clothing at St Jean de Luz, being rendered
weak in consequence, it was kept in reserve, as I before
mentioned. During this unsuccessful attack, our gallant
Chief was for a considerable time immediately in front
of us, watching with the most anxious care every motion
of both armies. He appeared to me to be extremely
thoughtful and serious on the occasion, as our troops did
not succeed in forcing this stronghold of the enemy. The
firing at this time was extremely animated, particularly on
the ridge to our left, where great slaughter was made on
both sides. And the French having discovered where he
and his staff were assembled, opened a smart cannonade on[278]
the group, but without doing any mischief, I believe, and
without being noticed by him. Their shots generally fell
about our division, which was formed immediately behind
the hill on which he stood.


At length, whether from the request of Colonel Barnard,
who was at this time by his lordship's side, or whether by
his own direction, I know not, but the Colonel was ordered
to take on the 52d and 1st Portuguese belonging to the Caçadores,
our 2d brigade, and endeavour to force a passage
through the French line, by the gorge of the valley, which
lay immediately in his front, and they would thus, if successful,
penetrate into the centre of the enemy's position.
They accordingly moved up the valley in column of companies,
sustaining all the time the most galling and destructive
fire, for the enemy were thus on each of their flanks, as
well as in front. When they reached within a short distance
of the centre height, they formed line, and moving on at a
brisk pace and carrying every thing before them, they drove
the enemy from the plateau, and thus penetrated into the
very heart of their army. This was a most daring and
intrepid movement, for although assailed by ten times
their force, and nearly surrounded by the enemy, these gallant
corps hesitated not to push on, although the very elements
seemed as it were to fight against them; for on the
brow of the enemy's position the fire had been so heavy and
so incessant, that the very furze bushes and herbs of all
kinds were in a blaze along the front, through which, with
innumerable foes behind it, these gallant men forced a passage
at the point of the bayonet.


This movement had the effect of at once deciding the fate
of the day, for Soult seeing his very centre and strongest
position carried, which separated between his wings, at once
ordered a retreat of his whole force. The remainder of our[279]
division were now despatched with all speed in pursuit of the
flying enemy, but they never attempted after this to make a
stand, and nothing was left for us to perform but to give
chase to the fugitives. When we reached the enemy's
centre position, we found that every thing had been cleared
away which could in the least impede his movements; every
hedge and ditch had been completely levelled, so that nothing
remained but a beautiful plain on the top of the ridge,
except where works of defence had been thrown up. We
were not successful in capturing any of the enemy, except
the wounded, who had necessarily been left on the field, and
we did not lay hold of any of his materiél, except a few guns
which he had been obliged to abandon in a swamp below the
position.


I have related only such things as fell within my own
observation, but no doubt many were the heroic and gallant
deeds that were performed in this hard contested battle,
besides what I have detailed. As might be expected, the
gallant 52d and its supporting corps, the 1st Portuguese
Caçadores, suffered dreadfully, leaving probably one-fourth
of their numbers on the field. But I must not omit mentioning
one trait of gallantry which attracted the admiration
of the whole army. Lord March (now the Duke of
Richmond) had for some time been on the personal staff of
Lord Wellington, where his services had been most efficient.
He also was at this time a captain in the 52d regiment, but
from his high civil rank had never served as an infantry
officer with his regiment. He was determined to know and
practice his duty in every situation, and therefore requested
leave from his lordship to be permitted to join his corps as
a captain, which was granted of course, and this was his
first debut in the character of an officer of foot. It was no
doubt a sharp trial; and poor fellow, while bravely leading[280]
on the company which his Majesty had intrusted to his
command, he fell dangerously (then supposed mortally)
wounded. This was a noble example to set our young nobility,
and they cannot do better than to follow such a precedent.
I understand he has been heard to say, "that the
chance of a staff-officer being hit in action, is not near so
great as that of an officer of infantry, who must quietly
brave all that comes against him, while a staff-officer, being
well mounted, can quickly get out of danger; and that if a
gentleman wishes truly to learn his profession as an officer,
he ought to serve for a time in the infantry whilst engaged
in operations in the field."


This was a most decided, but withal an unfruitful victory,
and only tended to establish more firmly the superior skill
of our commander, and the superior bravery of the British
army. We had heard of the proceedings of the allies in the
north, and of a number of the French generals having
deserted the cause of their once potent, but now fallen master.
And I verily believed that Soult had collected his
whole force together here for the express purpose of either
allowing himself to be surrounded, and thus make a show
of being compelled to surrender, or of inducing his whole
army to come over at once to the side of the Bourbons, but
in all these conjectures I was completely mistaken; for
whatever may have been Soult's faults as a man, he has
always shown himself a consistent and an able defender of
the cause he first espoused, and as such is certainly respectable.


We pursued the flying columns of the enemy for about
two leagues beyond the field of action, crossing in our
pursuit the river Luy de Bearne, and at night took up our
abode in bivouack, near the village of Bonne Garde. The
night proved extremely cold and frosty, for in the morning[281]
when I intended to arise, I found my cloak frozen to the
ground. We had no kind of covering. My commanding-officer
had taken up his abode in a cottage close by, where
there was no bed but what the people occupied. He therefore
got into the kneading-trough, in which he slept very
comfortably; but in the morning I remember he turned out
like a miller.


We started soon after daybreak, and continued our march,
crossing the small river Luy de France. Here I remember
our assistant Quartermaster-general told us what great difficulty
he found in obtaining information from the inhabitants
as to the by-roads which run parallel to the great road
from Orthes; for these good people could not conceive why
he should be hunting after by-roads of this description,
which were generally very bad, while the great road, which
was always good, lay so near the line by which he wished
to move, not knowing perhaps, or not understanding, that
other divisions of the army were moving on the high-road,
while we wished to make a corresponding movement on
their flank. They would always, however, after directing
him how to proceed for a while, bring him again on to the
great road, which he wished to avoid for the reason before
given.


The comfort, and the efficiency of an army in the field
depends more, I am persuaded, on the abilities and zeal of
officers in the Quartermaster-general's department, than on
any other branch of the service; for if they are remiss or
unacquainted with their duty, the marches and counter-marches,
the halts, and the changes of direction, are so numerous
and annoying, that the spirits and strength of the
troops are soon worn out, and of course dissatisfaction and
inefficiency soon follow. But to the credit of the officers of
this department at the period of which I am writing, I believe[282]
never army possessed more able, more zealous, or more
active staff-officers, than we did, and that principally owing
to the excellent example set them by the head of this department,
than whom a more able conductor of an army
does not exist. On one of these occasions when our assistant
Quartermaster-general had occasion to wait upon the
authorities of a village, he jokingly asked them for passports,
as is customary in France, to proceed into the country.
"Ma foi," says the worthy Mayor, "you obtained
your passports at Vittoria, you need no others now."


We halted for the night near the village of Duerse. In the
morning, we forded the Adour near a small village, the name
of which I forget, and making a long and rapid march, we
took possession of the city of Mont de Marsan, where we
found immense magazines of provisions, which had been
collected by the enemy. This was the most valuable capture
that had been made by the British army since its arrival
in the Peninsula; for although a great deal of treasure
was obtained at Vittoria, yet a considerable portion of that
fell into the hands of individuals; but this was secured for
the benefit of the whole army. The enemy had abandoned the
city previous to our arrival, consequently it was a bloodless
conquest, which rendered it the more valuable. Mont
de Marsan is what may be termed a fine and an extensive
city, containing about 3000 inhabitants.


The people received us kindly upon the whole, and
showed us great attention. Here we had superb quarters,
and the change from what we had lately been accustomed
to, produced a rather uncomfortable feeling; for our clothes
and all our equipments so little corresponded with the magnificence
around us, that we should have preferred less
stately mansions, if comfortable, as more congenial with
our respective establishments. But we did not long enjoy[283]
our splendid lodgings; for, having secured the booty,
we left the city, and returned to the banks of the
Adour. The march both to and from this city had been
along straight flat roads, cut through an immense pine forest,
with which this department is almost completely
covered. The roads had been for some time much traversed,
and having a sandy bottom, were consequently very
bad at this season of the year; added to which, a violent
storm of snow and sleet assailed us all the march of this
day, which made it a rather uncomfortable business. We
halted for the night in a village named, I think, St Maurice,
and the next day were moved into St Sever, a considerable
town on the left bank of the Adour, in which Lord Wellington
had taken up his head-quarters. Here we remained
some days, doing duty over his lordship, when we crossed
to the right bank, and moved up the river, halting
at the town of Grenade. We next morning continued our
route up that bank till we reached Barcelonne, a considerable
town some little distance from the river, and nearly
opposite Aire, a large town on the left bank, and near
which General the Hon. Wm. Stewart, with the 2d division,
had had a smart brush with the enemy on the day we captured
Mont de Marsan.


On the evening of the 10th we halted at the village of
Arblade, and, on the 11th, entered Tarsac, where we remained
for the night. We were next morning pushed on
to a village in front, about a league distant, but were allowed
to remain there only for one night, for the enemy now
began to appear in our front in considerable force. We were
consequently withdrawn, and, passing through Tarsac, the
division formed in a wood about half-way between that and
Aire. We expected something serious was about to occur,
but, from what cause I know not, the enemy again retreated,[284]
leaving a body of cavalry on the road about half-a-league
beyond Tarsac, to which we again returned and took up our
quarters.


On the 16th, as these fellows still continued so near us,
although evidently without any infantry to support them,
it was determined either to drive them away or take them
prisoners. I must observe, our 15th hussars were at this
time occupying Tarsac with ourselves, and one squadron of
them were selected for this service. The advance of the
French consisted only of one squadron, the remainder of
their regiment being at some distance in rear as supports;
consequently it was but fair that an equal force should
attack them. Captain Hancox's squadron (in which was
Captain Booth, with his troop) was pitched upon for this
affair. The remainder of the 15th were drawn out to support
them, if needed, but were not to take any part in the
combat. Every one of course went out to see the fight.


Accordingly this squadron moved on to the front, and
steadily advanced upon the enemy, who seemed determined
to stand the charge, as they put every thing ready to receive
our gallant dragoons. When within a proper distance
the word "trot" was given, and soon after "gallop," and
then "charge," when our fellows dashed in among the
French, upsetting them in all directions, and cutting many
of them down to the ground. In a few minutes the business
was settled, for our people returned, bringing in with
them the captain commanding, (and who, I believe, had
been personally engaged with Captain Hancox,) with about
twenty-five men, prisoners. The rest made their escape.
The French captain, and the greater part of the twenty-five
men, were wounded, and some were left dead on the road.


I shall not soon forget the little wounded captain. He,
I believe, was either a native of Tarsac, or somewhere near,[285]
and had been determined to show his valour to the utmost;
hence his standing, when he ought to have retired; but all
the way, as they were bringing him along into the village,
and after he reached the house where he directed them to
take him, he kept crying out, "I'm as brave as a lion!—I'm
as brave as the devil!" and could scarcely be got to
hold his peace while the surgeon was dressing him. Most
piteous moaning was made by many of the inhabitants, to
whom it seems he was well known.


We understood afterwards that this regiment, the 13th
French hussars, had fallen rather under the displeasure of
Soult, for some ill conduct on a former occasion, and that
they were thus determined to wipe off the stain and retrieve
their character; but they would have shown more
sense, and have rendered more service to their country, had
they retired when they saw it was determined to drive them
away.


On the 18th, we again advanced by the road the French
had taken, and, crossing the Adour at the bridge and village
of La Row or Arros, we pursued our route till we reached
the town of St Germain's, where we halted for a short space;
and thence to Plaisance, a good town, where we remained
for the night. An unfortunate circumstance occurred in or
near this town, which might have produced the most disastrous
consequences:—A man, who most likely had been
resisting the plundering of his house, was basely murdered
by some soldier or soldiers of the division; but although
every endeavour was made to discover the perpetrators of
this vile act, they could not be found out; but a subscription
was set on foot among the officers of the division, and
100 guineas were collected and paid to the unfortunate
widow, who, though grieved for the loss of her husband,[286]
was thankful for the money. I strongly suspect my friends
the Portuguese were the culprits on this occasion.


On the 19th we again moved forward, and, passing Obrigort,
halted for the night at the village of Aget. Towards
the close of this day's march, we both heard and saw smart
skirmishing, down on the great road which runs parallel to
the ridge on which we were, and from Auch to Tarbes,
along the plain on our right, and passes through Vic Bigore.
Near this town the firing was very brisk. We understood
it was Picton's division driving the French before them.


The next morning we started early, and, continuing our
march along the ridge of the height on which our last
night's quarters were situated, we reached pretty soon the
town of Rabasteins, where we learnt that the enemy had
taken up a position in and near the town of Tarbes. We,
accordingly, changing our direction, moved to our right,
down the road leading from the former to the latter place.
We passed on this road the sixth division, which, it seems,
was ordered to keep on the flank of the enemy, which,
should he make a stand, this division was to turn. When
we got within about a mile and a half of Tarbes, we discovered
the enemy posted on a strong woody height on the
left of the road, with a windmill on its highest and most
distant point.


The whole of our 95th people were accordingly ordered
forward, to endeavour to drive them from this position. My
battalion formed the right, the 2d battalion the centre, and
the 1st battalion the left of our line of skirmishers. We found
them covered in front with a great number of light troops,
which occupied us some time in driving in, and in which
service we suffered considerably, for they occupied the hedges
and dikes on the high ground, from which it was necessary
we should dislodge them. We had also a considerably-sized[287]
brushwood to pass through before we could get at them.
At length, after much smart skirmishing, we gained the
height, but found the whole of their heavy infantry drawn
up on a steep acclivity, near the windmill, which allowed
them to have line behind line, all of which could fire at the
same time over each other's heads, like the tiers of guns in
a three-decker. We continued, however, to advance upon
them, till we got within a hundred paces of this formidable
body, the firing from which was the hottest I had ever been
in, except perhaps Barossa. At this moment I received a
shot through my right shoulder, which compelled me for a
moment to retire; but meeting the main support of my
battalion advancing with Colonel Ross at its head, and
finding my wound had not disabled me, I again advanced
with him, until we got close under the enemy's line, and
took post behind a hillock, which protected us from their
fire.


We here found Colonel Norcott, who then belonged
to the 2d battalion, riding about on his large black mare;
but he had not ridden long till he also was wounded through
the shoulder, from which he still suffers. While we were
in this situation, a shot struck a captain of ours in the side
where he had his drinking-horn slung; in fact it struck both
the horn and his side; but, from some cause, it did not penetrate
the flesh, but bruised it sore, which is generally
painful. The captain, and those about him, thought he was
shot through the body; they accordingly picked him up,
and were carrying him off to the rear, when he cried, "Stop,
let me feel," and putting his hand down to the place, and
finding no wound, he sprung out of their arms, and, with
the most ludicrous appearance possible, returned to his post
again. No one present could refrain from laughing at the
ridiculousness of this occurrence, although at the moment[288]
the men were falling fast around us. At this time also, a
spent shot, one which I imagine had first hit the ground,
struck me on the left arm, but did not injure me. I now
thought it better to go to the rear to get my shoulder
dressed, immediately after which I became quite faint
from loss of blood. The firing still continued most animated
on both sides; but before an hour had elapsed, the
French were driven completely from every position they
held on this very strong hill; and as I returned, (after having
been dressed, and having swallowed some spirits to
remove the faintness,) I found them posting away with all
expedition to the plain below, some guns, which had just
arrived, giving them an occasional shot, but from which
they did not suffer much, they marched with such rapidity.
We immediately followed them down to the plain, on
reaching which, we perceived a body of French troops
coming apparently from the town of Tarbes, pursued by the
3d division, with whom they had been engaged, and which,
with some exertion, we thought we could intercept and cut
off; but they, perceiving our intention, inclined considerably
to the right, and marching with all speed, they got away
before us.


The enemy now having all retired across the plain, began
to take up a strong position on a height at its extremity,
towards which we continued to advance; but Lord Wellington
having expected that the 6th division would by
this time have reached their position, and, attacking in
flank, have rendered our attack in front more likely to
succeed, and they not making their appearance, although
it was now nigh dusk, he ordered the divisions here to
halt, and bivouack for the night on the plain. I never
saw any one more disappointed, or apparently more annoyed
by this last order, than our Adjutant-general, the lamented[289]
Sir Edward Packenham; he was for attacking them at
once; but this could not have been done without a great
sacrifice of excellent troops, as all those were who now
filled the ranks of the British army, having by this time
been completely seasoned, and become almost invaluable.
In reviewing the operations of this day, I need say little,
as facts speak for themselves. The enemy had on the
Windmill hill, as it was vulgarly called, or more properly
the hill of Oleac, I believe a whole division, consisting of
at least 5000 or 6000 men, while not a shot was fired by
any but by the sixteen companies of my regiment, amounting
probably to 1000 or 1100 men; it is true the other regiments
of the division were drawn up in rear of us, and would
have supported us had we been repulsed. But it is not so
much to the driving away of this so much stronger force,
that I would draw the reader's attention, as to the great loss
the enemy sustained, and solely from our fire. I believe I
shall not be far from the truth, if I state their loss in killed
and wounded as equal to the whole strength of our sixteen
companies.


Lord Wellington, in his dispatch, mentions the destruction
caused in the enemy's ranks as unusually severe; hence
the advantage of rifles over the common musket, or else
the superior mode of using our arms beyond what is practised
in the line. The Americans tauntingly tell us, our
soldiers do not know how to use the weapons that are put
into their hands; and, truly, if we are to judge by the awful
destruction which they have occasionally inflicted upon our
brave soldiers, we should be led to suspect that they understand
this science much better than ourselves. It might,
however, be easily remedied, if more attention were paid to
the instruction of the recruit in this most essential qualification,[290]
and more time and ammunition devoted to target
practice; but, at the same time, every officer should be
made to know something of projectiles in general, or he
will, as at present, be incapable of instructing his men. I
will venture to assert, that eight out of ten of the soldiers
of our regular regiments will aim in the same manner at an
object at the distance of 300 yards, as at one only 50. It
must hence be evident that the greater part of those shots
are lost or expended in vain; indeed the calculation has
been made, that only one shot out of 200 fired from muskets
in the field takes effect, while one out of twenty from
rifles is the average. My opinion is, that our line troops
ought to be armed with a better description of musket. If
five shillings more were added to the price, it would make
a great difference in the article, and be very trifling to the
public. Our army has always been too sparingly supplied
with flints, which may be had almost for an old song; but
if wanted in the field, nothing can supply their place. Many
a brave soldier has fallen while hammering at a worn out
flint. It is true we can, with the weapons we have, drive
any other army out of the field, but not without occasionally
sustaining an overwhelming loss, particularly when
opposed to the Americans; and could we meet them with
the same advantages they possess in point of shooting, our
chances of victory would be greater, and at less expense.
These are my private opinions only, and are deduced from
the experience I have had, both as a heavy infantry soldier
and a rifleman. I am now firmly persuaded, that of the near
200 shots I fired on the 2d of October 1799, in Holland,
not one took effect, from my total want of knowledge how
to aim. What an useless expenditure this was of both
time and ammunition! Much indeed has lately been done
by Sir Henry Torrens, to supply the deficiency of which I[291]
have been speaking, but still not sufficient, in my opinion,
to remedy all the evils attendant thereon.


Our loss on this occasion was very heavy, being
about 100 men and eleven officers killed and wounded;
the proportion of officers being nearly double what usually
takes place. The regiments which supported us also had
some casualties, arising from the shots which passed over
our heads striking among them; but they were not considerable.
My servants having heard I was wounded, went
to Tarbes, (where all the wounded were collected,) with
my baggage. I should consequently have been very ill off,
had not my kind friend and messmate, Major Balvaird, lent
me his tent and bed, as he himself had been ordered on
picquet. Immediately after nightfall, the enemy had all
retired from the position in front of us. We accordingly
next morning continued the pursuit, and halted at night at
the village of Lannemazen, not far from the borders of the
Pyrenees, towards which, in their retreat, they had been
inclined. This day and night, my shoulder had become extremely
painful. We started again in the morning; but
leaving the Pyrenees, we turned our faces more towards
Toulouse, and took up our abode for the night at a considerable-sized
town, called Castelnau; here the inhabitants
received us very kindly, and we had excellent quarters.
However, on the following morning, we were obliged to
continue our march, and passing through several villages
on the road, halted for the night at L'Isle, in Dodon. During
this day's march, my poor old horse played me a sad
trick. He was one which I had been compelled to purchase
as soon after I lost my little Portuguese one by the bad
shoeing of the blacksmith at Sumbilla, as I could fall in
with one for sale. He was a very tall grey horse, rather
old, and whose mouth had not been well made in his[292]
breaking; he was withal rather stubborn, or more properly
speaking stupid, consequently he did not always obey the
rein as he ought. The roads were excessively deep and
dirty, and as I was riding at the head of the battalion, and
had occasion to pull him a little to one side, for some purpose
or other, he either would not, or could not, obey the
pull of the rein; and as I had but one hand, he took advantage
of it, and sat down completely on his haunches, in the
very deepest of the mire. Of course I was tumbled right
over his rump, and rolled in the mud, and after extricating
myself as well as I could, I crawled out, as pretty a figure
as may well be imagined. This, as might be expected, raised
the laugh of all who saw it, at my expense; but, uncomfortable
and ridiculous as my situation was, I was not hurt, the
mud being sufficiently deep to protect me from any injury
by the fall. In this village I fell in with a Frenchman who
had just come from Toulouse, towards which he understood
we were bending our course. He gave me such a flaming
account of the "belle position" in the neighbourhood of
that town, and of the impregnable works which Soult
had caused to be thrown up, and of the superb artillery
which were stationed there, and which, he said, were those
who had served in the famous battle of Austerlitz, and of
the utter improbability of any impression ever being made
on them by an enemy, that if I had given credit to the half
of what he told me, I might have been filled with fear lest
all our laurels might here be tarnished. From what motive
this rather exaggerated statement was made, I know not,
but am inclined to think it was merely an inclination to
indulge in a trifling gasconade. On the 25th we reached
Mont Ferrand, where we halted for the night.


On the 27th, in the morning, we were moved forward
to the village of Tournefoile, where it seems some of our[293]
cavalry had been quartered the night before, but who had
had their quarters beat up during the night by a body of
the enemy, who still held the ground beyond the village.
My battalion, and a Portuguese battalion, were sent forward,
the remainder of the brigade following. We found
the enemy occupying the road leading from the village to
a bridge about half a mile distant, together with the hedges
and enclosures in the vicinity. My people extended to the
left, while the Portuguese battalion kept on the road. A
smart skirmish now commenced, during which the enemy
gradually retired towards the bridge; but at this time a most
remarkable occurrence took place. One of our men (the
servant of a friend of mine) received a shot in the mouth,
which struck out several of his teeth. One of these was
propelled with such force by the blow that it flew at least
twenty yards, and, entering the left arm of one of the Portuguese
on the road, inflicted a deep and severe wound.
When the surgeon of the 43d, who was the nearest to this
man at the time, came to dress the wounded Portuguese, he,
instead of a ball as every one expected, extracted a tooth,
at which, no doubt, both he and all about him were quite
astonished; and a report was immediately set afloat that the
enemy were firing bones instead of balls. This most extraordinary
circumstance was not cleared up till they were informed
of our man having had his teeth knocked out, when,
after comparing the relative situations of the two men, it
became quite evident how this most uncommon wound had
been inflicted. If any thing like a joke might be permitted
on such an occasion, it may with great propriety be said,
the Frenchman who fired the shot had killed two birds with
one stone. I happened to be near our man at the time, and
besides seeing him wounded, I enquired minutely into the
circumstances, or I own I should have hesitated before I[294]
gave implicit credit to the story; so it may probably be
with my reader. Poor fellow, he had afterwards nearly all
his intestines torn out by a cannon-shot at the fatal attack
near New Orleans, and where I saw him writhing in the
agonies of death; his name was Powell, and he was, I believe,
a Welshman.


Not long after the commencement of the skirmish, the
artillery on both sides was brought into play; but the
enemy kept gradually retiring till they crossed the bridge,
and as we did not pursue them, they quietly walked off,
taking the road towards Toulouse. I cannot conceive for
what purpose this body of troops had been sent here, unless
it was intended as a reconnoissance, to ascertain whether
any, and what description, of troops had arrived at this
point, as their waiting, after driving out our cavalry, to see
whether any infantry approached, would seem to indicate.
Major Balvaird was conspicuously brave on this occasion.
The loss on either side was but trifling.


[295]


CHAPTER XIV.


The British Army cross the Garonne—Advance on Toulouse—Prepare
for the Attack—The Attack—Spaniards driven back—Battle very
hot—French completely defeated—Soult evacuates Toulouse, and
tardily adheres to the Bourbons.


On the 28th or 29th, we were moved forward, and after
a short march we reached a beautiful plain, with Toulouse
appearing most magnificent in the distance. Here we went
into cantonments, in the different villages and chateaux in
the neighbourhood, the greater part of which were completely
deserted, and many of them most wofully sacked
and plundered, which could have been done only by their
own troops. A noble and stately mansion, belonging to a
Mr Villeneuve, stood immediately in front of our outposts,
which had shared the same fate with all the others, every
article of furniture having been entirely destroyed. The
cloth had been torn from the billiard-table, the splendid
pier-glasses shivered into a thousand atoms, and, in short,
every article of luxury or splendour which a man could
wish for, might have been found in this princely habitation
previous to its desertion by its owner; but now devastation[296]
and destruction had laid its unhallowed hands on all in which
its possessor had formerly delighted. I, with my messmates,
took the liberty of visiting Mr V.'s fish-ponds, where
we found some fine-looking carp; and having some hooks by
me, we caught a considerable quantity, which we imagined
would be a great treat to our messmates; but we found
them excessively muddy, and not worth eating. Here also
we rejoiced in being able to procure some good provender for
our still half-starved horses and mules. The grass and cinquefoil
which we found in this beautiful and luxuriant plain,
in a few days began to make a wonderful improvement in
our poor fellow-travellers. I know not a more gratifying
feeling than we experienced in thus being able to feed the
hungry; for although they were but of the inferior creation,
yet so much did our own comforts, and, indeed, efficiency
for service, depend on their being capable of performing the
task allotted to them, and so much did the circumstance of
our having passed through trials and dangers together attach
us to them, that I very frequently would have preferred
getting them a meal even at the expense of wanting one
myself. Here my little Portuguese horse, which I had
originally brought from Lisbon, and who had been my companion
in all my wanderings, (except when he was left for
a while owing to his bad foot,) began to look quite brisk
and lively again; for hitherto his spirits had been very low
indeed since he happened by his misfortune, and had been
literally starved into the bargain.


A pontoon bridge having been constructed some distance
above the town, and which our engineers had been able to
accomplish on account of its being thrown over above the
junction of the Ariege with the Garonne, on the 31st we
moved down towards this point, and crossing it, my battalion
was left as its guard in a village on the bank of the river.[297]
The remainder of the division, and the —— division,[3] moved
up the Ariege river with the intention of crossing, and thus
approaching Toulouse in that direction; but, from the heavy
rains, the river was too much flooded, which, together with
the dreadful state of the roads, these troops were unable to
effect this operation, and were consequently recalled.


By the 2d of April the whole had recrossed the Garonne,
when we again went into our cantonments on the plain,
but now farther down the river than before. We remained
here a few days, and I cannot help recording a remarkable
circumstance which took place at this time. For want of
dwelling-houses we had been obliged to put a certain number
of the men of my battalion into a sort of wine-house;
it was not a vault, for it was above ground, but had a considerable
number of barrels of wine in it, amongst which the
men were obliged to sleep. It will scarcely be credited,
but not one of these men ever appeared the least intoxicated
during the whole time they lay there. Whether they were
completely tired of wine, or whether their having been
placed in such a situation produced a feeling of honour and
pride among them, I know not, but I verily believe less
wine was drunk by these men during the time they remained
here, than would have been had they had to pay most exorbitantly
for it. With soldiers I believe it is as with mankind
in general; what is prohibited always appears more
valuable or more pleasurable in our eyes, than what we may
with freedom enjoy.


On the 6th we moved down the river till within a short
distance of Grenade, about twelve miles below Toulouse.
We halted near a small village, and encamped. A pontoon
bridge had been thrown over the Garonne here, and one
division (I believe the 3d) had crossed; but now, owing to
[298]the swollen state of the river, together with several attempts
which were now made by the enemy to destroy the bridge,
by floating down trees, &c. which might eventually carry it
away, it loosened at the farther end, and the anchors being
taken up, the whole was allowed to float down to our side
of the river, keeping fast the end next our own bank. We
remained in this situation for several days, one division only
being on the opposite side, with which it was impossible to
communicate, or, if attacked, to afford it almost any support.
Now was the time for the enemy to bestir himself; for had
he marched out of Toulouse with half his force, and been
met at this place by the force he had at Montauban, they
must have annihilated this division, or taken them prisoners.
It is true we might have rendered them some little assistance
by our artillery from the bank we occupied, but the
distance was so great that a determined enemy would not
have held back from the dread of it.


I took a trip from hence to Grenade, where the paymaster-general
had established the military chest, as I had not
yet quite finished my paymaster's duty. It is a good-sized
town, but contains nothing remarkable, only here I remember
I got some excellent wine of the Champagne kind, and
which my friend poured out of an immense magnum bottle.
I understood our Chief was most anxious to have the
bridge re-established by the 9th, which was Easter eve, the
weather having now somewhat taken up, and the river of
course had fallen; but although the engineer thought he
could effect it, and had promised his lordship it should be
ready by that time, it was not passable till the morning of
the 10th. Early on that morning, my division crossed to
the other side, together with the 4th and 6th divisions, and
a whole host of Spaniards.


I omitted to mention, that these latter gentry, on their
entering France, had behaved most wantonly, and had committed[299]
numerous atrocities; on which, his lordship, as Generalissimo,
had ordered them back to their own country again;
but upon the promise of good behaviour, and an anxious desire
to participate in the honourable achievements of the
allied troops, he had granted them permission to rejoin the
army, and they were to have a post of honour assigned
them at the ensuing battle. Such was the current report
which prevailed among our army newsmongers: be it as it
may, however, they were here in number, I should think,
about 6000 or 8000. The whole army now present having
crossed, except General Hill with the 2d division, advanced
upon the town of Toulouse. We here found a beautiful
country and excellent roads, along which we got on rapidly.
The town stands close to the right bank of the river,
along which there are numerous quays, and over which
there is an excellent bridge, communicating with the
suburb on the opposite side, called St Cyprian. From the
river on the north side of the town runs the famous canal
of Languedoc, with which it communicates by locks, and
which, encircling the town on that and on the east sides,
with the river on the west, almost entirely encloses it. On
the east side of the town, and just beyond the canal, a considerable
eminence arises, forming a sort of chain or ridge,
on the top of which numerous redoubts and batteries had
been constructed, and which, both from the nature of the
ground and by the great labour bestowed upon them, had
been rendered, as the Frenchman told me, nearly impregnable.


The 6th division, supported by the 4th, had been ordered
to move considerably to the left, and, after crossing
the Garonne, to attack this formidable position on the
outer side, while the Spaniards were to attack it immediately
in front. My division was ordered to communicate[300]
with the right of the Spaniards, and, extending down to
the great Montauban road, was to press upon the town in
this direction, in order to aid the attack upon the height before
mentioned. The 3d division joined our right at the
Montauban road, and extended from thence down to the
river, and were ordered to act similarly to us. The 2d
division, under General Hill, remained on the other side of
the river, and was to co-operate by attacking the suburb
before mentioned, together with the works for the protection
of the bridge, and for the same purpose of our attack,
namely, to keep the troops in these parts of the town employed,
while the 6th division and Spaniards attacked the
height. Immediately in front of our division, we found
considerable bodies of troops, at some distance from the
town, occupying the houses all along the road, and which
it took us a considerable time to drive in. They had
also constructed a battery on the bridge over the canal,
where the great road passes, and from which they kept up
an almost incessant fire. At the hither end of the bridge
also there stood a very large convent, which they had fortified
in a very strong manner, having loopholed the whole
of the surrounding wall, which was twenty feet high, and
had also looped the upper part of the convent, which contained
a garrison of probably 1000 or 1200 men.


We commenced operations in conjunction with the 3d
division on our right, in driving these people in, and with
whom a smart firing was kept up during the whole day.
The French had also other troops beyond the canal, and
on the Moorish or Roman wall which encircled the town
inside the canal, and both of which they had fortified; so that,
had it been intended we should force the town on this side,
we should have found it a difficult undertaking: we were,
however, merely (as said before) to press upon them without[301]
committing ourselves; but unfortunately, in the eagerness
of some of our people to push forward, they got
immediately under the muzzles of the pieces of the men
who were defending the convent, and from the loopholes
several of our poor fellows were shot without being able to
see their antagonists. A good number fell here; for it was
not more than thirty yards distant where they had taken
up their post, and an unpleasant one it was as well as dangerous;
for they were obliged to stand in a drain which ran
from a jakes, and which of course emitted no very desirable
flavour; or, if they had left it for a moment, they were immediately
shot. Our adjutant escaped here as by a miracle,
the bole of a very small tree having stopped the ball that
would have pierced his body. When, however, we had got
them fairly driven in, we had then time to look about us,
and the first thing we saw was the Don moving on to the
attack of the height with all due ceremony. They gained
the first or lower ridge without much opposition, and here
getting up some artillery, a pretty heavy fire was opened on
the enemy; but the French remained quite passive, not offering
to resist the approaching Spaniards till they got within
a certain distance of their works on the top of the hill.


The Spaniards, elated by having gained the first ridge so
easily, pushed on too rapidly, and without having taken time
to re-form their columns after the first conquest. They
were not aware either that a rather deep ravine separated
them from the enemy's works; however, on they pushed,
in a very disorderly manner, till they reached the point the
French intended they should reach, when a fire was opened
out upon them, such as they had never witnessed before.
Few troops would have remained unshaken by such a reception,
but to the Spaniards it was intolerable; consequently
they broke into a thousand parties, and, turning[302]
tail, it was who should be first away from such unpleasant
doings. I am told that Lord Wellington at this moment
could scarcely hold his sides for laughing, and cried out
he "wondered whether the Pyrenees would bring them up
again, they seemed to have got such a fright." He did
not indeed depend on their valour, or he would have
made a bad winding up of his Peninsular campaign. The
moment they left the height, every man took the way that
seemed to him best, and they soon after literally covered the
whole plain, and set to work with all expedition to plunder
at least, if they would not fight. Some of the villains had
the audacity to come and take a poor man's horse out of
the stable of the very house which we were then, as it were,
defending, and had nigh got off with it; but having been
perceived, it was taken from them, and restored again to its
owner.


The left of our division was now obliged to be moved up
to fill the space vacated by these vagabonds; and in doing
which a good deal of hard fighting took place. This also
made the people in front of us rally again, and coming out
in great numbers hurraing and shouting, we had something
to do to drive them back. But by this time we heard, in
the distance behind the hill, a dropping and now brisker
fire; by and by, approaching the summit, it became quite
animated. We could plainly perceive now the different
appearance which the French assumed; they no longer lay
supine and passive till their enemy approached their works,
but fought for every inch of ground, and all was now animation
and bustle among them, hurrying to the support of
those troops who defended the redoubts, &c. on the point
assailed. The battle now raged with great fury, each party
with all their might for the mastery, and the French, we could
perceive, when compelled by sheer force to yield ground,[303]
did it with the utmost reluctance. At length, we saw the
British colour waving on the summit of the hill, with the
most deadly warfare raging on each side of it; but every
move we saw was in favour of the British.


The 42d regiment had by this time gained possession of
the principal redoubt, which they held till their ammunition
was all expended, and which the enemy perceiving, or suspecting,
again advanced, and gained possession of it. Things
did not now wear quite so favourable an aspect; but being
promptly supported by other troops behind them, a movement
was again made in advance, and again the French
were expelled from the redoubt. Great was the slaughter
in and about this place, as I saw next day when I visited it.


The enemy were now reluctantly compelled to yield up
all those famous works, on which so much time and labour
had been expended, and on which they so much relied, and
were obliged to abandon (slowly indeed) this long disputed
ridge; but they fought till they were fairly forced down into
the town, where they still kept up a feeble fire; at length
it gradually subsided. This was the principal part of the
drama; but it had many subordinate plots. On our right,
General Picton, with that ardour which ever characterised
him, was scarcely well satisfied to play an under part on this
occasion; and, instead of merely keeping his opponents in
play, as I before hinted, he was for effecting a forcible
entry into the town. He accordingly attacked with his
division a strong and well-secured battery, near the canal,
in doing which his brave Connaught Rangers, who had
scarcely ever hitherto known a reverse, met with a severe
and bloody repulse, in which they lost a great number of
excellent officers and men. The other corps of his division,
who co-operated, also suffered greatly. General Hill[304]
strictly obeyed his instructions, and, as he always did,
effected every object at which he aimed.


In this action I had another opportunity of witnessing
the effect of presentiment. Early in it I was sent forward
by my commanding-officer with some orders to a company
of ours, which was in front skirmishing, and which had
taken possession of a house, which partly screened them
from the enemy's battery on the bridge. Behind this house,
one of the men was sitting on a heap of stones with the most
woe-worn countenance possible. He had separated from the
rest of the men, and was sitting here apparently ruminating
on his fate, and appeared to be quite absorbed in his meditations.
I remarked him most particularly, wondering what
could render him so different from the rest of his comrades,
who were all life and animation, and from what he had formerly
been himself in action. He presently went forward
with some of the other men, and soon after fell to rise no
more. The poor man's melancholy look made a deep impression
upon me at the time, together with his fate soon
after.


Thus terminated the battle of Toulouse; our troops
maintaining the ground they had gained, while the enemy
had retired into the town completely beaten. Soult seemed
undetermined how to act, whether to endeavour to hold
the town, (which indeed he might have done for a day or
two perhaps,) or to leave it by the road towards the south,
the only one now open to him. We rested on the field all
night, the enemy sending an occasional shot or shell in the
direction of our camp. Next morning we still found the
enemy retaining possession of the town; and nothing being
likely to be done, I rode up with another officer to see the
bloody field, with all its redoubts and batteries, and also to[305]
see, if I could, in what situation the enemy now appeared.
Just as we reached the summit, a cry was given by the 42d
sentry, "Turn out the picquet." There was a good deal
of firing going on in the suburbs nearest to the position,
which this Highlander thought it right to apprize his people
of. We looked a considerable time with our glasses, and
observed a good number of troops on a green and open space
in that part of the suburbs, and who every now and then
would fire their muskets. I thought it must either be a
sort of feu-de-joie, or a funeral, and it turned out to be the
latter. They were burying a general officer, who had fallen
the day before, and to whom they were paying the last
melancholy honours; but it was conducted in a quite different
manner from our military funerals, for they did not
fire in volleys like us; but every few minutes apparently a
few men only fired, and by and by some others. This had
the effect, however, of turning out our whole line in the
neighbourhood of the position; and as I was afterwards
returning, I met Colonel Barnard and Colonel Colborne
(than whom there were not two better officers in the army)
riding up to see what was the matter. Colonel Barnard
asked me what it was. I told him what I thought it was.
He said the whole line had fallen in, thinking it was an
attack.


Towards evening we heard that the inhabitants of the
city had been most urgent on Soult to withdraw from it;
and that he had promised to do so. Indeed, had he not,
Lord Wellington might, if he chose, have soon reduced the
town to ashes; for the heights we had taken were not 500
yards distant from the city, and completely overlooked it.
On the morning of the 12th, therefore, Soult marched out,
and was not molested by our troops. He took the road to
Villefranche and Carcassonne, up the canal of Languedoc,[306]
our cavalry following their track. Now all the loyalists
came rushing out of the town to meet and welcome us;
every one wearing white scarfs or favours to denote his
attachment to the Bourbons. Now all was joy and festivity,
and nothing but shaking of hands and embracing was
to be seen in all directions. This day also arrived Lord
Stewart from Paris with the account of Bonaparte's abdication,
and of the Bourbons having been reinstated. It was
also rumoured that Soult had received this news previous
to the battle; but not being inclined to yield obedience to
that dynasty, he had allowed the warfare to proceed. Indeed,
what almost puts this beyond a doubt, was his still
continuing for many days after this to refuse sending in his
submission to the Bourbon government. We also heard
afterwards that the courier bringing the official information
of Bonaparte's fall, &c. had been detained by the postmaster
of Montauban by Soult's direction; for although he had
had private intelligence of the fact, he imagined the detention
of the official information might screen him hereafter.
Such are the surmises of the wise heads respecting this
affair, which, as it turned out, is to be regretted; for the
sacrifice of so many valuable lives on both sides was a thing
of no trifling importance; but I believe Soult felt sore at
his having been so often worsted, and hoped here in some
measure to retrieve his lost honours; for it cannot be doubted,
I believe, that he expected to be able to repel our attack at
least, if not to force us to retire from Toulouse.


On the 13th, the divisions marched into the town; my
battalion having the fauxbourg adjoining the lately disputed
position assigned to it, and in which we found very
comfortable quarters. To show that the French people of
this place took Lord Wellington either for a very generous
person, or a great fool, a man who owned a house on the[307]
border of the position, and which the French had fortified
by loopholing it, and otherwise rendering it unfit for occupation
by its owner, sent in a memorial to his lordship,
praying him to order that he might receive out of the military
chest a sufficient sum to enable him to put his house
in its former state; and this, although it had been done by
his own countrymen. I suppose his lordship would laugh at
it when he saw it. I should have been inclined to be angry
with the fellow. The man showed the memorial to the
adjutant and myself before he sent it in—a step which of
course we dissuaded him from taking.


Notwithstanding it was notorious that Bonaparte's career
was at that time finished, Soult still made a show of holding
out for him; in consequence of which the army was
again put in motion to compel him either to send in his
adhesion to the new government, or to resign his command
of troops who had not now a master. He had taken up a
position near Villefranche. Accordingly, we marched, I
think, on the 15th or 16th, the which rather alarmed him;
and in consequence he despatched Count Gazan with terms
to offer to his lordship, the which, after some alterations,
were finally agreed upon, and the army returned once more
to Toulouse, where we resumed our former quarters.


Thus finished the Peninsular War, the last campaign
of which had been the most active probably that is recorded
in history. In ten months and a half we had marched from
the frontiers of Portugal, had completely traversed Spain,
which we had cleared of its long troublesome and insidious
invaders; had penetrated far into the interior of that country,
which three years before gave law to most of the continental
nations; and had worsted, in various actions, those
troops, which, except when encountering the British, had
been accustomed almost invariably to conquer.


FOOTNOTE:






[3]
Some obscurity is occasioned here and elsewhere, by blanks being
left in the MS., which the death of the good-humoured and kindly
author has rendered it now impossible to fill up.—Ed.









[308]


CHAPTER XV.


Author's happy state during 1813 and 1814—Character of the veritable
French—British distributed over the Country—Civility of the Inhabitants
of Grissolles—Amusements in quarters—The British prepare
to quit France.


When I look back on the events of 1813 and 1814, I
cannot but deem that the happiest period of my life, for I
had been actively, and, as I believed, usefully employed.
My mind during this time was tranquil, and I was, with a
few exceptions, prosperous in my outward circumstances.
All those among whom my lot was cast were now sincerely
friendly to me, and I believe I may with confidence affirm
that I had not (with the exception of the person before
mentioned, and who was now far removed from me) a single
enemy in the world. It is true my occupation had not
been, strictly speaking, of a Christian character, but I believed
I was fulfilling my duty; hence the peace of mind
which I enjoyed. I have since learned certainly, that a
Christian, to resemble his Master, should be more ready to
save than to destroy men's lives; but, at the same time, I
cannot see why a Christian soldier should not be as zealous[309]
in the defence of his king and country, as those who are
actuated by other motives; and it is certain, I believe,
although I once doubted whether there was such a precept,
that in whatever calling or occupation a man is in when
called to become a Christian, that therein he should abide,
1st Cor. vii. 17, 20, and 24. But I attribute the peace of
mind I then enjoyed as much to the constant employment
which the nature of our services entailed upon us, as to any
other cause. Be it remembered, I was doing the duties of
both paymaster and quartermaster during this period, and
my battalion had been as often called into action as any in
the army, having been engaged in battles and skirmishes
no less than sixteen times in less than ten months. This
naturally left little time for reflection. But, above all, I
am bound to render thanks to where alone it is due, to that
gracious and beneficent Being, who not only watched over
me during this period, and protected me from harm, but
who poured his choicest blessings upon me, even the blessings
of a cheerful and contented heart, together with the
means of retrieving my sadly deranged finances; for had I
not been appointed acting paymaster, I might have gone to
prison on my return to my native country, from the unavoidable
losses I had sustained, and which I shall mention
by and by. Another cause of comfort and cheerfulness
arose from our operations against the enemy having been
invariably successful; for we never, from the time of our
leaving the frontiers of Portugal, till we took possession of
Toulouse, met with any thing like a serious reverse.


Most of my readers no doubt know that the city where
we had now taken up our quarters is one of the largest and
finest in this part of France; but as it has been so often
described, I shall content myself with merely informing my
readers, that the people among whom we now resided were[310]
truly and veritably French. The character of the inhabitants,
since we left our poor friends the Basques, had materially
changed; that kind, but rude and simple hospitality, which
had on most occasions been displayed by those honest
mountaineers, had now given place to all that imposing,
but less sincere politeness of the real French character.
We were, indeed, treated here with every degree of respect;
and perhaps more, or at least an equal degree of attention,
was paid to our convenience and comfort, as they would
have shown to their own troops. We had every reason,
therefore, to be perfectly satisfied.


In this part of the country there are a great number of
Protestants, which, of course, permitted us to live on better
terms with them than had they been all such stanch and
bigoted Catholics as we met with in some parts of the
Continent, and where our heretical presence was frequently
looked upon as a contamination; for I remember well in
the small village of Zalada, where we lay for some time,
near Astorga, we never left the village, as they supposed,
for a permanency, but the joy bells were rung for our departure.
It was our lot, indeed, to be frequently quartered
in this village, and such was their invariable custom. It is
true the Padre and people of the place only expressed
openly the feeling that was covertly, but universally, entertained
throughout Spain and Portugal respecting us; for
although the monks and priests made great pretences of
friendship and good-will towards us, while we were upholding
them in their iniquitous dominion over the minds of
the people, yet secretly they cordially hated us, and were
glad when at last our successes contributed to rid their
country of both the invaders and their conquerors. One
noble Spanish lady, (I remember well,) when I was quartered
at Cadiz, made use of an expression which I am sure[311]
would shock and horrify my simple and delicate countrywomen.
She said, "She should rejoice to see all the
French then in their country hung up in the intestines
(las tripas) of the English, who had come to drive them
out." Thus they should get quit of both. This lady, as
might be supposed, was a most depraved and abandoned
being, yet even she, it seems, looked upon us in the light
of a curse or plague sent upon their country, rather than
as a generous and gallant people, who had not hesitated to
sacrifice much, both of blood and money, in freeing them
from their French oppressors. But such, I fear, is the too
general feeling in that country; for while the innumerable
religiosos which overrun that nation maintain their cursed
dominion over the minds of the other classes, an Englishman
will always be looked upon by them as a dangerous
and hateful being, uniting in himself both the mortal sins,
first, of having totally cast off the Pope's authority, and
being the subject of a free and popular government—than
either of which, not even Satan himself could be more
odious to them.


We were not allowed, however, to remain long in Toulouse,
but were distributed over the country in the neighbourhood,
lines of demarcation having been pointed out
which were to separate the French and British armies. My
division was sent down the right bank of the river, and
occupied Castel Sarazin, Grissolles, and Castelnau, &c. My
battalion was stationed at Grissolles. During our stay here
I had two or three opportunities, in company with others,
of going to see Montauban, the seat of a Protestant college,
and famed in romantic lore. The people were kind and
obliging, and showed us every attention; but unfortunately
a French garrison was quartered in it, the officers of which
took every opportunity of quarrelling with ours. Indeed[312]
we had no business there, and were consequently obliged to
put up with more than we should have otherwise done, for
we were strictly forbid to enter any place within the French
lines; but we did not conceive that those fellows, who had
shown themselves so friendly and polite near Bayonne,
while we were avowedly in arms against each other, would
now turn round upon us when peace was made, and endeavour
to engage us in quarrels and duelling. But I believe
they felt a degree of soreness at our acknowledged superiority
as soldiers, (for even the inhabitants of Montauban,
where they lay, did not hesitate to express it,) and thus
wished to be revenged for the many victories we had gained
over them. Indeed there was a sort of recklessness about
them which is not easily accounted for, unless they supposed
their occupation was gone, and cared not what became of
themselves; but they did not succeed, I think, in any instance
in obtaining their wishes, for they would not fight
with pistols, the only weapon which gives each a fair and
equal chance, but insisted upon using the sword,—a mode
of fighting to which the English in general were utter
strangers. The people uniformly gave us warning as soon
as ever they learnt that a plot was laid to insult us, on
which we generally came away without subjecting ourselves
to it; and when their designs became too evident, we refrained
from going there. It was only a short distance from
our quarters.


During our stay here, also, the Marquis de Pompignan,
a gentleman residing between Grissolles and Castelnau, and
where our Major-general had taken up his quarters, gave to
the officers of the brigade a splendid fête. I know not exactly
how to denominate it, for it was a sort of dramatic
medley, part of it being performed in the garden and part
in the house, where a private theatre had been fitted up;[313]
that in the garden, it was said, was intended to represent
some military event,—I think it was the burning of Moscow,
and in which the Marquis's beautiful daughter bore a
part.


This young lady was said to be greatly enamoured of an
honourable gentleman, aide-de-camp to the General, who
was quartered in their house, and between whom it was
expected a match would have taken place. She was extremely
beautiful and engaging.


We sometimes went a-fishing while we remained here
also, but were not successful, there being none other than
lake-fish, such as perch, &c., in the neighbourhood, which
were scarcely worth taking.


Here, also, for want of better occupation, some of our
young gentlemen amused themselves by hunting and lashing
the Spanish muleteers as they were returning, after
having delivered in their loads at the commissary's stores.
They always rode one mule, (sideways, like a woman,) and
led one or two more, and were most dexterous in handling
the long shank of the halter, with which they sometimes
soundly belaboured their pursuers; and had they not been
set on by two or three at a time, they would not have liked
better fun than to fight one of our gentlemen with his whip,
for they saw that it was only for amusement, and generally
took it good-naturedly; but our young gentlemen, as they
generally do, carried the joke too far, and it was consequently
put a stop to. Of course none but the young and
idle took any part in this exercise.


We had, while we lay here, also several little balls and
hops; and here, for the first time, several of our young
men began to dance quadrilles; in short, there was no want
of amusement among this gay and lively people, who are
ever intent upon pleasure themselves, and who of course[314]
found our wild and thoughtless young fellows ever as ready
to second their endeavours to get up something new and
entertaining. Certainly their morality is not the highest
in the world, but their vices are most of them divested of
that coarse and disgusting appearance which similar vices
carry on their front in England; and thus, while they are
generally more pleasing, they are the more seducing, and
consequently the more dangerous. However, as no person
is compelled to enter into these scenes of dissipation and
voluptuousness which they rejoice in, I found it, upon the
whole, a very comfortable country to live in. The people
were kind and civil, and were always good-natured and
polite, and, as we now had plenty of the good things of this
world at our command, I spent two months here very contentedly.
It is true we had none of those excellent privileges
with which my native country abounds, and which I
have since learnt highly to prize,—I mean the privileges of
the gospel,—the food for the nobler and never-dying part;
but I was then ignorant of their value, for although I had
been convinced and convicted, I had not been converted. I
was still in darkness respecting the way, the truth, and
the life, and yet my foolish and carnal mind whispered
peace; hence my contentedness in this situation. No! it
was not till some years that I discovered that there is but
one way to real happiness, but one true foundation on which
to build our hope,—even that which is laid in Zion.


But the time had arrived for us to move down towards
Bordeaux, preparatory to our quitting France. Accordingly,
on the 3d June, we forded the Garonne, and stopped
all night in Grenade, a place I formerly mentioned. We
next day reached Cadours, a village near Cologne, where our
2d battalion was that evening quartered. In the afternoon
of that day, a storm collected in the north, which I think[315]
had the most frightful appearance I ever witnessed. It was
actually as black as night in the direction in which we saw
it. It did not reach us, but it alarmed the inhabitants of
our village so much, that they set on ringing the church
bells with the utmost fury imaginable. We could not
account for this strange proceeding till we enquired of them
why it was done. They told us the devil was in the storm,
and the bells being holy, he durst not, when he heard them,
proceed any farther in that direction. Indeed they had
ample reason to be in dread of its reaching their village;
for the next day, as we passed along the country where it
had raged most furiously, the whole face of the country was
desolated. It had been a hail-storm such as I never before witnessed.
The hailstones were still lying, some of them larger
than a bullet; the vines had been all destroyed; the crops
of corn completely swept from the face of the earth. Trees
knocked down, birds killed; in short, nothing could equal
the appearance of misery and woe which this awful hail-storm
had inflicted upon the unfortunate inhabitants, many
of whom were going about wringing their hands in all the
bitterness of heart, which a consciousness of being deprived
of every hope of subsistence for the year to come would naturally
inspire. Indeed most of them were literally stripped
of their all.


On the 6th we marched into Lectoure, a fine town on
the river, and famous for having given birth to Marshal
Lannes, one of Bonaparte's best generals. It stands on a
high ground near the river, and overlooks one of the richest
and most beautiful plains I think I ever saw. Here I experienced
another misfortune in my steed. My little Portuguese
horse (which was now in high condition, and
being an entire horse was apt to fight) quarrelled with
a large horse belonging to one of our officers, while I was[316]
serving out the billets; and although we were both mounted
at the time, the quarrelsome animals reared up against
each other, and fought most desperately; but his, being the
strongest, pulled mine and myself down to the ground. I
luckily fell clear of him, and was not hurt; but he by some
accident got a kick in his hind leg or foot, which completely
lamed him, and I could not ride him any longer.


We passed through Condom, another fine town, and
Nerac, also a good town, and nearly full of Protestants.
We next day halted at Castel Jaloux, where I was quartered
on a house of religeuse. Here my poor little horse was so
very ill that I could not drag him any farther. I was consequently
obliged to leave him with those good dames, to
whom I made him a present, and parted from him in the
morning with sincere regret. They promised to take care
of him, which I hope they did. We next reached the town
of Bazas. Here there was to be another parting scene exhibited.
The Portuguese were ordered to leave us here, and
proceed towards their own country. The Spanish and
Portuguese women who had followed the men were either
to be sent home from hence, or their protectors were to
consent to marry them. Some adopted the latter alternative,
having had children by them, and some others who
had not, and the remainder, of course, were compelled to
separate. Our division drew up in the morning they marched,
and honoured the brave Portuguese (for indeed they had
always behaved well in the field) with three cheers,
as they turned their faces towards Portugal. Many were
the heavy hearts in both armies on this occasion; for it is
not easy to conceive how the circumstance of passing through
scenes of hardship, trial, and danger together, endeared the
soldiers of the two armies to each other. It was perhaps
never before felt so fully how much each was attached to[317]
the other; but the departure of the poor women caused many
heavy hearts, both among themselves, poor creatures, who
had a long and dreary journey before them, and among those
with whom they had lived, and who had shared in all their
good and bad fortune; but among these, several on both
sides were not oppressed with too fine feelings. A friend
of mine, who was an officer in the Portuguese service, told
me afterwards that the women marched down to Spain and
Portugal at the same time his regiment did; that they
formed a column of 800 or 900 strong; that they were regularly
told off into companies; and that the commanding-officer,
a major, and all the captains, were married men, who
had their families with them—all excellent arrangements;
but that they were the most unmanageable set of animals
that ever marched across a country. The officers had to
draw rations for them all the way; but many of them, he
says, left the column and went wherever they pleased. Few
reached Portugal in the order in which they started.


We reached Langon on the 12th, and Barsac on the 13th
June. This latter place is famed for a fine white-wine,
something resembling sauterne. The adjutant (who had
now been my chum for some time) and I were here quartered
in a fine old baronial castle, the inmates of which showed us
great attention. A ball was given in the evening to the
officers of the brigade.


On the 14th we halted at Castres, and on the 15th entered
Bordeaux. This was the finest town we had seen since we
entered the Peninsula, except Lisbon and Madrid. This
town had been occupied by the British for some time, a division
of the army having been sent by Lord Wellington
to take charge of it in the name of Louis XVIII.


We were not, however, destined to be quartered in this
southern capital of France, but marched right through it, on[318]
the road towards the village of Blancfort. On the road the
division was formed, and very minutely inspected by our
gallant Chief, who was dressed in all his finery, his orders,
and medals, and ribbons, &c., which he wore for the first
time that ever I had seen. He looked most splendid indeed,
and right proud were we to see him in them. After inspection
we moved on to the camp at Blancfort, where we
found a great part of the army assembled, waiting for the
arrival of shipping to carry them off. Some had sailed a
considerable time before our arrival. Besides our tents, the
adjutant and I had got a cottage close by, in which our servants
and our baggage were put. We had not been here
above two or three days, I think, till his two servants, that
is, his servant and groom, took it into their heads to desert.
This was not the first instance of desertion that had taken
place lately; for as we drew near the time of departure
great numbers ran off into the interior, mostly bad characters.
However, on this occasion, these worthies were determined
to have something to carry them on the road, and,
without hesitation, broke open their master's panniers, or
boxes, and took away all the money he had, which did not
indeed amount to any great sum, for it was only 40 dollars,
(about L.10 British,) but it being all he was worth it was
a great loss to him.


I have reason to be thankful to Providence for my escape
on this occasion. My paymaster's chest was standing close
to the adjutant's panniers when they broke them open, and
they did not touch it, although it contained about L.400
worth of gold. Had they taken that I might have gone
after them. I of course expressed my thankfulness for this
lucky escape, and told several people of it. I fancy some
person (my groom, I suspect) overheard me telling what a
lucky escape I had been favoured with, and determined in[319]
his own mind that I should not always come off so well.
The sequel will show: A few days after this I had occasion
to go into Bordeaux to draw some money from the Commissary-general.
The amount was 600 dollars, or about
L.150. As I could not conveniently carry them out to the
camp, I requested Major Balvaird, who had a quarter in
town, to allow me to put them in his portmanteau till I had
an opportunity of getting them sent out. His servant had
overheard this conversation, and made up his mind at once
to desert and take this money with him; but providentially
again I escaped. I found the means, before night, of carrying
it out to the camp, and the Major gave it me unknown
to the servant. That night he broke open the portmanteau,
and, taking every thing worth carrying away, (among which
was a gold watch of mine,) deserted, and got clear off. This
money, also, had it been taken, would have sorely crippled
me, although I might perhaps have overcome the loss.


We marched in a few days after, passing through the
district of Medoc, famous for Bordeaux or claret wine, and
halted for the night at Castelnau de Medoc. The next day
we passed through Chateau Margaux, where the best and
most expensive of the claret grows, and again encamped at
Pauillac, from whence we were to go on board.


Now was the time for the person who had overheard me
speaking about my escape with the L.400, to make his
grab and start off, or he would be too late. Accordingly,
after dark, he or they lifted up a part of the tent where the
box was standing, and, pulling it out, set off with it bodily.
But, again directed by Providence, I had taken the money
out of the box, and given it into the hands of a gentleman,
to take care of for me; and there remained in the box my
papers and books, public and private, about L.19 in money,
an old silver watch, and, among other things, the half[320]
doubloon which poor Croudace had given me to take care
of for him on the evening previous to his death at Badajos,
and which I was preserving as a memorial for his afflicted
friends.


As soon as the box was missed I instantly raised the hue
and cry, and, reporting the circumstance to my commanding-officer,
he ordered the rolls to be called, to see if any
man had deserted; but no, they were all present. I then
offered a reward of forty dollars to any one who would
bring me the box and papers, and did not regard the money.
Instantly the whole camp was in a move to find the box,
and search was made in all directions. I of course was not
idle myself on the occasion; and having a man or two with
me, I actually discovered where the box had been opened,
for I found the inkstand, that had been in it, lying near a
heap of wood close to the bank of the river, into which,
after plundering it, no doubt they had thrown it. I now
went down to the town and waited on the mayor, offering
the same reward to any of his people that would try to find
it in the river; but, unfortunately, just as there was the
best chance of recovering it, the order came for us instantly
to go on board.—Thus was I deprived of every document I
possessed, both Paymaster's, Quartermaster's, and private. I
had fortunately got my Paymaster's accounts made out up
to the very latest period, and transmitted to the War-Office,
or I know not what I should have done; but my duplicates
were gone, and when afterwards objections were made to
some of the items in the charges, (as is always the case,) I,
being unable to answer them, was obliged to submit to the
loss of them. I had also several private accounts unclosed,
on which I lost considerably, so that altogether I calculate
this loss fully amounted to L.100, besides the vexation of
not having my papers to refer to when wanted.[321]


I had been obliged to part with all my remaining animals
for next to nothing, for when the French people found we
were obliged to leave them, they offered us the most shameful
trifles possible, but which we were compelled to take or
give the animals away. One I did actually make a present
of, besides my little Portuguese horse before-mentioned. I
made a close calculation, and found that my losses in horses
and mules, from the beginning of 1812 to June 1814, did
not amount to less than L.150, besides sums that I lost by
officers who died. By one I lost L.84, and another L.74
odd, so that, as I said before, had I not fortunately been
appointed Acting Paymaster, I should have been so much
involved, that at this time I durst not have returned to my
native country. I do not complain, for most of my losses
were sent by Providence, who saw best what was fitting
and good for me; but never, till the Peninsular campaigns,
were officers obliged generally to provide and keep up their
own baggage-animals, and from the loss of which I had
suffered so severely; and I cannot but think that rule,
always acted upon till these campaigns, ought to be continued,
and that subalterns at least ought to have their baggage
always carried at the public expense.


[322]


CHAPTER XVI.


Author's Battalion embark for England—Land at Plymouth—Expect
to be again ordered on Foreign Service—Order received—Embark,
with other troops, for America—Land at Pine Island.


We embarked on the 8th July on board his Majesty's
ship Dublin, of 74 guns, commanded by Captain Elphinstone,
which took the five companies of my battalion, with
two companies of the 43d. We sailed the next day, I think,
and had generally fine weather during our voyage, which
lasted till the 18th, when we arrived at Plymouth. She was
but a dull sailer, or we ought not to have occupied so many
days in so short a passage. During our voyage, as remarkable
an instance of heroic fortitude and bodily strength was
exhibited by a sailor of this ship as I ever remember to
have witnessed. He was doing something on the fore-yard,
and by some accident he was precipitated into the water, but
in his fall his shoulder came in contact with the flue of one
of the anchors, by which it was deeply and severely cut.
The ship was going at about five knots an hour, and it took[323]
near half an hour before she could be brought round and a
boat sent to his assistance; and notwithstanding the severe
cut he had received, from which the blood was fast streaming,
he not only contrived to keep himself from sinking by
buffeting with a heavy sea, but actually stripped off his
jacket in the water, as it seems it had been an encumbrance
to him. When the boat reached him, the poor fellow was
nigh exhausted, and a few minutes more would have deprived
the ship and the service of an excellent sailor, but
having been got into the boat, he was brought on board
more dead than alive, where every attention being paid to
him, he soon afterwards recovered.


We landed at Plymouth on the 18th, and occupied one
of the barracks. We did not exactly know what was to
become of us. Kent being our regimental station, we expected
to be ordered to march and join the left wing in that
county, but were still kept at Plymouth, where we met with
great kindness and attention from the inhabitants in general,
who are upon the whole, I think, an excellent and a
moral people. We also fared sumptuously here, every description
of food being both cheap and good. Fish in particular
is most abundant and excellent. In short, we were
here as comfortably and as well quartered as we could desire,
and every thing tended to make us perfectly satisfied
with our lot. We relaxed by attending the theatre occasionally,
which is one of the best provincial ones in the
kingdom, and at this time could boast some very good
actors. There were a variety of other amusements, such as
fishing, &c., which of course we indulged in occasionally.
From hence I was called up to London to meet our Colonel,
the Hon. Sir W. Stewart, to arrange our battalion concerns,
&c. for the few latter years of hurry and confusion, and
which was at last got done to the satisfaction of all concerned.[324]
Here also we began to replenish our wardrobes,
which, it will easily be imagined, were not the most magnificent
in the world on our first arrival.


But we were not long permitted the enjoyment of English
society or English comforts, for we had scarcely been a month
at Plymouth till we received an order to prepare again for foreign
service, and the nature of that service being kept a profound
secret, we scarcely knew what necessary articles of
equipment to prepare. The general opinion, however, was,
that our destination was some part of America, consequently
we endeavoured to meet all contingencies by preparing both
for a warm and cold climate. All hands of course were vigorously
set to work, in order to be ready when the summons
arrived, which we knew might be very soon expected. An
alteration was made in the arrangement of our battalion. The
staff was ordered to proceed to join the other wing at Thorncliffe,
which of course included myself, but Major Mitchell,
who was now appointed to the command of these five companies,
was anxious to take me out with him in the capacity
of acting paymaster, and to his friendly and earnest
endeavours, added to the kindness of Captain James Travers,
who had at first intended to apply for that situation
himself, but renounced it on my account, I am indebted for
again having an addition of 10s. per diem made to my regimental
pay during the continuance of service on this expedition.


At length the order arrived for our embarkation, and on
the 18th September, just two months from the day of our
arrival in England, our five companies were sent on board
his Majesty's ships Fox and Dover, both frigates of the
smaller class, and which had been prepared for the reception
of troops, by having a part of their guns taken out, and
being, as it is termed, armed "en flute." The commanding-officer,[325]
with the staff and three companies, were put on board
the Fox. We laid in an immense sea stock of provisions,
&c. not knowing how long we might be on the water, but
unfortunately for us we had scarcely put foot on board, when
the order was given to weigh and proceed to sea forthwith,
so that no time was given for the stowing away of all the
stock, which had cost us about L.24 per person; the consequence
was, a great part of it was lost or destroyed, from its
being knocked about the deck in the midst of the confusion
and bustle consequent on the crew and the soldiers (strangers
to each other) being set to work to weigh anchor and
make sail in such a hurry. Little assistance was afforded us
from the ship on this occasion. We thus lost nearly the
half of what we had been at so much pains to provide; but
such things being common occurrences in a life like ours,
it was therefore vain to fret.


The force that embarked at the same time with us, consisted
of the 93d Highlanders, a company of artillery, some
rocketeers, a squadron of the 14th light dragoons, without
horses, and our five companies, the whole under the command
of General Keane. The good people of Plymouth,
as is customary, cheered us as we left their shore, wishing
us the most ample success and good fortune, and which we,
who had for so long a time been in the habit of conquering,
did not for a moment admit a doubt of being fully realized.


We sailed, as I said, on the 18th September, and stood
down the channel with a pretty fair breeze, till we reached
what are commonly called its "chops," where we encountered
adverse winds, and blowing a succession of gales (equinoctial,
I imagine) which detained us beating off and on for
seven days. This was as uncomfortable a beginning of
our service as could well be imagined. High winds, with
rain, and contrary to the way we wished them, were certainly[326]
rather trying to the patience of us landsmen, and
there was something in our situation on board this ship
which did not at all tend to alleviate our discomfort. In
fact, we wished our fortune had placed us on board a transport
rather than where we now found ourselves. All the
discipline and strictness of a regular man-of-war was enforced,
without any of the countervailing comforts and conveniences
usually found on board such ships; and to such a length
was this carried, that because our officers sometimes stood
on the quarter-deck, holding on, in the rolling of the ship,
by the hand-ropes which surround the companion, not only
these, but the ropes which were stretched to prevent people
falling out at the gangway, were ordered to be removed,
that nothing should remain by which lubbers like us might
hold on in the heavy rolls to which the vessel was subject
in gales like those I have been describing. We were no less
than twenty-four people in the cabin, twelve of our officers
and twelve gentlemen of the commissariat department, so
that we were sufficiently crowded, besides being in several
other respects ill provided. But all this would have been borne
with cheerfulness and good-will, had we not experienced
such a total want of kindness and urbanity from a quarter
where we least expected it, and from which that unkindness
could be made most effectual.


We lost the fleet during the continuance of these gales,
but sealed orders having apprized our commander where to
rendezvous, we made sail for the Island of Madeira, which
we reached on the 9th October, and where we found the
fleet. Some of the wags of our other two companies on
board the Dover, pretending to think we must have been
cast away and lost, had erased all our names from the army
list as defunct. This rather annoyed some of our folks, but[327]
it might have been easily seen it was only a little waggery
in which they had been indulging themselves.


A day or two before we reached Madeira, we fell in with
a strange sail, to which we gave chase, and brought her to;
she proved to be an English merchant brig. It was said our
commander wished to have a little independent cruise,
which caused him to part from the fleet, and that there was
a famed American privateer called the Wasp that had made
a great number of captures, and which he was anxious to
fall in with that he might take her. Had such a thing occurred
as the Wasp appearing in sight, and we had given her
chase, I could have compared it to nothing but to a vulgar
simile which I have sometimes heard used, that of a cow
endeavouring to catch a hare, for indeed she was, I believe,
one of the fastest sailers that had ever been known, while
we, on the contrary, were in comparison just like the cow
to the hare. This also must have been a piece of waggery
on the part of those who first set such a report afloat, for
no man in his senses would have ever thought of chasing
privateers with the Fox frigate at the time of which I am
now writing. I regret I did not go on shore on this beautiful
island, the town and scenery of which were most inviting,
but as our stay was only to be so very short, it was
scarcely worth while.


We sailed again on the 11th, after having first got a cask
of excellent Madeira wine from the house of Messrs Gordon
and Co. This was the best, I think, I ever drank.
We stood almost due south, passing pretty close to Teneriffe
and the other Canary Isles, until we fell in with the trade-winds,
when we kept more away towards the south-west.
Our voyage now became delightful, for a gentle and refreshing,
but constant and steady breeze, carried us on at the rate
of about five or six knots an hour, without having occasion[328]
hardly to alter a sail or rope. We passed to the tropic of Capricorn
on the 15th October, when our sailors prepared to indulge
in the same innocent but amusing ceremonies that are
adopted on crossing the equator. Neptune, with his Amphitrite,
got dressed in full costume, and every other appendage
being ready, it only now remained that the commander's
sanction should be obtained to their commencing the
imposing ceremony; but no! his godship was dismissed in
no very courteous manner, and told to go and attend to his
duty. Thus the fiat of a greater than Neptune, even in his
own element, reduced him from the godlike rank he held
to that of a mere forecastle sailor; and thus were all our
expectations frustrated. In all the other ships of the fleet
the amusement was carried on with the greatest good humour,
as we could plainly perceive with our glasses.


On the 18th, we passed pretty near the Isle of St Antonio,
the westernmost of the Cape Verde Isles, and then
bearing off still rather more to the west, we kept our course
generally at about 12 or 13 north latitude, and in this manner
crossed the Atlantic.


From the time that we had entered between the tropics,
we had seen numerous shoals of flying fish, some of which,
when closely pursued, (by the dolphin generally,) actually
fell on board our ship. A very accurate drawing of one of
these was made by one of our lieutenants, a friend of mine,
who, I believe, has it to this day. They were generally
about the size of a herring, and much resembling that fish
in shape and colour, with two fins projecting from behind
their gills, nearly as long as their body. These are their
wings, with which they can fly generally for 100, or 150, or
sometimes 200 yards, when they fall again into the water.
We also caught a dolphin about this time, our carpenter
having harpooned it from the bow of the ship; but I was[329]
considerably disappointed in finding it did not exceed from
twenty-four to thirty inches in length; and the hues of it,
though beautiful when dying, by no means answered my
expectations.


On the —— November, we made the island of Barbadoes,
and anchored in Carlisle Bay, off Bridgetown, the capital of
the island. It is not easy to describe the effect which is
produced on an European the first time he beholds the
beauties of a tropical country, and which, I think, he does in
the greatest perfection while they are yet distant from him.
Robertson's description of Columbus's first view of a West
India island is, I think, as correct and as beautiful as any
thing can possibly be; and his feelings for the moment
(heightened indeed by the circumstance of his having at
length attained to his long-looked-for Western India) will
describe pretty nearly what every one must feel, who has not
before beheld the productions of a tropical climate. But oh!
how is the scene changed when you get on shore! Nature
indeed is still beautiful and rich beyond the conception of
a northern native; but man—how fallen! Here (I think
I shall not far err if I say) you behold man in his lowest
state: the savages of the woods are, in my opinion, much
higher in the scale of being than those whom our cursed
cupidity has introduced to all our vices, without one alleviating
virtue to counterbalance the evil. But how could the
poor Africans learn any thing that is good from those who
do not practise good themselves?


One of our people while here said, "he thought the men
were all rogues, and the women all unfaithful." Of the
slave population the latter is certainly a correct description,
almost universally, in Bridgetown; for, with shame be it
spoken, their masters and mistresses calculate upon their
worth as if they were brood-mares, by the number and the[330]
description of wretched beings which they can bring into
this world of misery. What indeed could you expect from
those who can thus act, and those who sanction such conduct,
but the like treatment that Mr Shrewsbury met with,
if you endeavour to show them to themselves or to others
in a true light? While the strong man armed keepeth his
castle, his goods are in peace; but let another endeavour to
bind this strong man, and take his goods from him, and
oh, what a resistance may not be expected! Let the West
Indians have slaves whom they may treat as cattle for their
own gain and profit, even if it be at the expense of the souls
of the poor wretches whom they thus destroy; but endeavour
to show these degraded human beings that they are
capable of being raised to a level with their unfeeling and
avaricious masters, and you may shortly expect the fate of
a Smith or a Shrewsbury, so regardless are these dealers in
human flesh of their duty as men who must soon render an
account of all their actions.


It may be said, that I saw little, while here, but the very
worst of society, and this may in a great measure be true;
but it is evident that such things were done and sanctioned
at Bridgetown when I was there, in 1814, as led me to
pray that my lot might never be cast among such people.


I now gladly turn from this scene of vice and misery,
and pursue my narrative.


In the bay at this place a hulk was stationed for the reception
of prisoners of war. Our boats usually passed pretty
near it on going on shore for water. A number of Americans
were on board as prisoners. On one occasion, or
more, I believe, they called out to our fellows as they passed
under her stern, "So you have come out from England
to attack our country, have you? I hope you have
brought your coffins with you, for you will need them before[331]
you return." And, in truth, many of those fine fellows
to whom this insolently coarse but patriotic speech was addressed,
did indeed require coffins before the business we
were going upon was finished.


We left Barbadoes on the ——, and, passing down through
the midst of the islands, we left St Lucia on our left and
Martinico on our right hand. We also passed close to
Dominico and Guadaloupe, with several smaller islands
which I do not recollect, and, keeping to the southward,
passed St Christopher's, Santa Cruz, Porto Rico, and St
Domingo, having a fine view of the whole as we moved delightfully
along. This latter large island took us more than
two days in passing; but on the 21st we came in sight of
Jamaica, the chief of our West India possessions. We stood
off and on near to Port-Royal till the 23d, when we made
sail to the westward, and on the 25th came to anchor in
Negril Bay, at the extreme west end of the island of Jamaica.
Here we found several sail both of men-of-war and
transports, having on board the troops which had been engaged
in the operations against Washington and Baltimore,
&c., and consisting of the 4th, 21st, 44th, and 85th regiments,
with some artillery. They were not strong indeed,
having been considerably reduced by their late arduous services;
but their numbers, added to ours, we thought quite
sufficient to enable us to make a descent upon the American
coast, near New Orleans, which it was now whispered
was our destination: indeed this had been conjectured from
the time we left England, but nothing certain was known,
and even now it was not officially made public. A day or
two after our arrival here, two of the West India regiments
also joined us, the 1st and 5th, at least a part of both; so
that we now mustered a respectable force. Admiral Sir
Alexander Cochran commanded the naval part of the expedition,[332]
he being here on our arrival on board the Tonnant
84; several smaller vessels also, with stores, &c. &c. joined
us from Port-Royal. When the whole were collected together,
we felt proud of our fine force, which we vainly
imagined nothing we should have to encounter could withstand
for a moment: but the battle is not always to the
strong; and we were shortly after painfully reminded of
this truth. But I must not anticipate,—evil always comes
early enough.


During our stay here, I went on shore for a few hours,
and visited some of the farms or plantations. Indeed,
while we remained, the place where we landed was generally
like a fair; for the inhabitants had assembled in great
numbers, bringing with them live stock and poultry and
vegetables, &c. for sale, all of which were greedily bought
up at prices high enough, I warrant you. The vegetation
at this place was most luxuriant, even in this the middle of
winter almost; but I apprehend this was the finest season
of the year, for it was not at all intolerably hot, and every
thing, had the appearance which our country assumes in the
height of summer. An accident occurred whilst we continued
here, which had nigh proved serious. The Alceste
frigate, one day, in shifting her berth, run with her head
right on board the Dover, where our other two companies
were on board. She cut her up from the stern into the
cabins, not less I am sure at the top than ten feet. Two
of our people were in the cabin at the time playing at backgammon,
and were not a little astonished to see the prow of
another large vessel tearing its way right into the very place
where they were sitting.


On the 29th, signal was made to weigh, when the whole
got under way, and started in fine style; our now gallant
fleet covering the ocean for many miles. We kept along[333]
on the south side of Cuba, and on the 3d December made
Cape St Antonio, the westernmost point of that large island.
From hence we now stood to the northward, crossing right
athwart the Gulf of Mexico. During our stay at Barbadoes,
we had purchased a live sheep and a pig, as we feared our
stock might run out before we landed. The sheep was productive
of great amusement to our messmates, at the expense
of the poor caterer. In all hot climates, I believe,
the wool of the sheep becomes in course of time more like
the hair of a goat than what it really is. This was the
case in the present instance, most of our people declaring
they would not eat of such an animal, which was, as they
conjectured, a sort of mule bred between a sheep and a goat;
while the poor caterer was like to have the sheep thrown
on his hand. This produced many a bickering, even after
it was known that such was the case in warm climates; for
they kept up the fun as long as possible, always trying to
keep the unfortunate caterer in hot water about it. The
sheep was killed, and produced excellent mutton—not fat
indeed, but eatable. We were not so fortunate, however,
with our pig; it appears it must have been diseased—what,
I believe, is usually termed measly. It was dressed without
this being known, and eaten; and the consequence was,
all the twenty-four of our mess, except myself and another
were literally poisoned. In the middle of the night, when
it began to take effect, the most distressing scene took
place imaginable, and the medical men were kept busily
employed for a considerable time afterwards preparing and
administering emetics, which providentially had the desired
effect on all, for in a short time the whole recovered; but
had medical assistance not been promptly administered, the
chances are some of them would have suffered. Its effects[334]
were something like cholera morbus, working both up and
down in the most violent manner.


On the 10th December we made the American coast off
Mobile, where we fell in with a vessel, on board of which
was Colonel Nichols of the marines, with three or four
Indian chiefs of the Creek nation, to which people he had
been for some time previously attached, they being then at
war with the Americans, and consequently our allies. They
came on board our ship, and were shown every thing curious;
but their reason for visiting us was, that they might
see our rifles, for they considered themselves good shots,
and wished to examine our arms, with which they did not
express themselves over-satisfied, as they had been accustomed
to see no other description of rifles than those used
by the Americans, which are both much longer and heavier,
but carry a much smaller ball. Indeed they had never
seen any military rifles, but only such as the above, and
which are constructed solely for the purpose of killing
deer and other game. The gallant colonel endeavoured to
amuse us a little on this occasion with the wonderful feats
of his protegés. He told us, that they being generally very
short of balls, were always very careful how they expended
them in hunting; and that their rule was never to fire at
a deer, until it was in the act of passing between them and
a tree, that, should the ball go through its body, as it sometimes
did, it might lodge in the tree on the other side, and
they would then go and pick it out, and recast it. We
thought he ought to have told that story to his own corps
the marines; for I believe he did not get many of us to
give implicit credit to so wonderful a tale. They were
most grotesque-looking figures; most of them were dressed
in some old red coats, which they had got hold of by some[335]
means, with cocked hats of the old fashion. These I believe
had been given them by some of our people, for they
were English manufacture. But they had tremendous
large rings, &c. hung in their ears, the laps of which were
stretched nearly to their shoulders; some of them also wore
rings in their noses; and some of them were without any
sort of lower garments, having nothing but a sort of cloth
tied round their waist, which passed through between their
legs and fastened before. These people it was intended
should bring their warriors to join us near New Orleans;
but, owing to some cause with which I am not acquainted,
none but these three or four chiefs ever came near us.


On the 11th we anchored near the Chandeleur Islands,
at the entrance into Lake Ponchartrain. But it was discovered
that the Americans had some gun-vessels, which,
on account of their drawing only little water, had been
stationed in this lake for its protection, and on our appearance
had retired nearer to New Orleans. It was necessary
that these should be previously disposed of in some manner,
before the disembarkation of the troops could with safety be
effected. None of our ships could follow them on account
of the shoalness of the lake. An order was therefore issued
for all the men-of-war to prepare their boats for an attack
on these vessels, the chief command of which was given to
Captain Lockyer of the Sophia gun-brig. On the morning
of the ——, they therefore assembled for this purpose, and
pushed up the lake in search of the gun-vessels, which were
discovered moored near some islands called by the natives,
"Les Isles Malheureuse," or the "Unfortunate Islands,"
and which form the entrance from Lake Ponchartrain
into Lake Borgne, or Blind Lake. No time was lost in
attacking this formidable flotilla, consisting of vessels carrying
from five to six guns each, and commanded by a lieutenant[336]
of the American navy, named by them Commodore
Jones. A most determined and gallant resistance was made
by the Americans; but superior numbers, with equal, if
not superior courage and seamanship, prevailed, and in a
short space of time the whole were captured. Both the
commandants were severely wounded, with a great number
of officers and men killed and wounded. Nothing
could exceed the gallant intrepidity, I understand, with
which our boats advanced to the attack; for, from experience
I am well convinced, the fire from those gun-vessels
must have been most destructive; for better shots, either
with artillery or small arms, do not exist than the Americans.
Orders were now issued for the army to prepare to
land; but the distance, from where we had been obliged
from shoal water to stop to the town, being so great, it was
determined to form a sort of depot on a small island, near
the mouth of the Pearl River, called Pine Island; and farther
to facilitate the transport of the troops, small brigs,
&c. were sent as far up the lake as possible, into which the
troops were put successively from the larger vessels, and
from which they generally took their departure for the
above island.


On the 15th our people left the Fox, and were moved
up the lake into one of the brigs before noticed, where we
were packed in as tight as herrings, there being near 400
men on board a little thing scarcely calculated to contain
the fourth of that number, and where there was not literally
room to lie down. But, on the 19th, we were relieved
from this rather close confinement; and being put
on board of long boats, we pushed off for the island, which
lay at a considerable distance, notwithstanding the measures
that had been adopted to shorten our voyage. The
weather proved extremely rough and unpleasant, which[337]
rendered our trip neither over-safe nor comfortable; and to
mend the matter, the seamen on board our boat were rather
in the wind, and did not manage her so well as was desirable;
for, poor fellows, they had been engaged in this
fatiguing service for several days, (a considerable number
of the troops having been previously landed,) and were
consequently the more easily prevailed upon to indulge
when grog came in their way. Our middy too was quite
worn out with fatigue, and slept nearly all the time we
were on board. Our boat was several times on the point
of being swamped, for the water came in quite plentifully
on occasions of her being laid down by sudden squalls. Another
boat, which accompanied us, had her mast carried
away.


We landed on the island before mentioned in the evening,
and of course looked out for the best shelter we could
find. But it was a complete desert; nothing but reeds
grew on it, except a few stunted and scrubby bushes at the
lower end of it. It came on a most severe frost during the
night, which I understand caused the death of several of
the sailors, who had indulged perhaps a little too freely,
and had lain down without any covering. Some of the
poor blacks also, I understand, suffered in consequence of
the severe cold, a thing with which they were totally unacquainted,
and against which they were ill provided, having
nothing but their light and thin West India dress to keep
it out. It was laughable the next morning to see them
examining so intently the ice which had been formed on
the pools near our bivouack. They could not conjecture
what it was; some of them asserting it was salt; while
the greater part were totally at a loss respecting it. I had
by great good luck got into a sort of hut belonging to some[338]
of the officers who had previously landed; but I do not
remember in all my campaigning to have suffered more
from cold than I did this night, and was extremely glad
when daylight appeared, that I might be able to move
about.


[339]


CHAPTER XVII.


Proceed to attack the Enemy, and capture one of their picquets—Advance
in search of a Bivouack—Alarmed by shots in front—Fired
on by an American schooner—Captain Hallen severely attacked—Manœuvres
on both sides—Ruse of the Enemy—Fighting continues—Enemy
repulsed at all points—Courage of the British—A British
Battery brought into play—Activity of the Enemy.


By the 21st, the whole army had been landed on this
island, when they were told off into brigades, and inspected
by the General. During our stay here, about five or six
French Americans, (the natives of New Orleans, or neighbourhood,)
arrived as friends, and told us that there were
scarcely any troops in the district; so that we had nothing
to do but to land on the opposite side, and march right on
to the town, and that the inhabitants would welcome us
most cordially, and that no resistance might be expected. I
did not, I confess, put much confidence in their information,
and believed at the time, that they came more as
spies than with any view of befriending, as they pretended,
our cause. More correct information was obtained from
Spanish fishermen, who had been following their occupation
at the mouth of a creek on the New Orleans side of
the lake, and who had come across, I believe, at the suggestion[340]
of Major Peddie, our assistant Quartermaster-general,
who had been despatched to find out a suitable landing-place
for the army. From one of them, I learned afterwards
that there were troops in the town, commanded by General
Jackson, and that a battery of two guns had been erected
on the road, by which we must advance. What they told
the General, I do not know, but fancy he saw no reason to
alter his plans, from the information of either party. Every
thing being ready by the morning of the 22d, the advance
guard, commanded by Colonel Thornton, and consisting of
the 85th and 95th regiments, with two light three-pounders,
some artillery and some rocketeers, accompanied by a few
artificers to repair bridges, &c. embarked on board the boats,
that had been assembled for the purpose—two companies of
the 93d followed us; these troops occupying the whole of
the boats that could be mustered in the fleet, consequently
the remainder of the army had to remain where they were
till the return of the boats. The distance was not less, I
should think, than from thirty to forty miles. We pushed
off about two o'clock P.M., the wind being favourable for a
considerable part of the way, but it failing, the men were
obliged to commence with the oars. We were completely
wedged in, so that there was no moving, let the call be ever
so urgent. I suffered much from a severe pain in my side,
from being obliged to remain so long in the same position;
but we endeavoured to divert the tedium in the best manner
we could by amusing stories, &c. My luck placed me
on board the Bang-Up, a fine cutter belonging to the admiral,
and commanded by a countryman of mine, a Lieutenant
Foster of that ship. We did not reach the mouth of the
creek, or bayou, as it is called by the natives, till a long time
after dark. As we approached it, some light boats were sent
forward with Captain Travers of ours and his company, to[341]
endeavour to surprise a regiment of the enemy, which we
knew were stationed in some huts at the mouth of the
creek, and which huts belonged to the Spanish fishermen
before mentioned. From the information they gave, the
best arrangements possible were made for effecting this;
for Travers, moving silently on, and landing his men at the
opposite ends of the hamlet, there remained no way of
escape open for the troops in the houses. As soon as all
was ready, they rushed forward and secured the whole
picquet without a single shot being fired, with the exception
of two men, who preferred venturing into the marsh,
in rear of the huts, where it is not improbable they perished.
The duty was conducted so quietly, and so expeditiously,
that very few of the other troops knew any thing
of the matter; but this alone secured us a landing without
opposition, for had a firing been begun on either side, it
must have alarmed the American army, who, no doubt,
would have used their endeavours to oppose our landing.


We soon after began to enter the creek, but such was
the darkness of the night, and the shoalness of the water,
and such the uncertainty of the way by which we had to
proceed, that very little progress was made during the remainder
of the night; daylight, however, enabled us to
move forward at a brisker pace, but from the obstacles that
had presented themselves in the dark, the squadron of boats
was sadly dispersed; and when we reached the head of the
creek, only two or three of the light boats, with the staff
and naval officers, had arrived, and considerable intervals of
time elapsed between the arrival of the different boats with
troops; so that had the enemy been aware of our intention,
and had they had a force of a few hundred men hid in the
high reeds which grow in this marsh, they might, I am
persuaded, have cut us off in detail, for from the causes before[342]
mentioned, no two boats were sufficiently near to assist
each other.


We got on shore about an hour after daylight; and right
glad was I to be enabled to stretch my legs, which had
been kept motionless for the last sixteen hours. As soon
as the whole advance-guard had landed, and a few planks
had been thrown over a deep rill which we had to cross, we
moved forward towards the high ground, Captain Travers'
company leading; and, in order to magnify the appearance
of our force, should any concealed American be looking on,
we extended our files to double the usual distance, and thus
passed through a wood which skirted the swamp, and which
it was necessary to traverse before we could reach the open
country, which we did about six miles below New Orleans.
As soon as our advance cleared this wood, they observed a
good-looking farm onstead, towards which they moved in
double quick time, and arrived just in time to seize and
make prisoner a Monsieur Villerey, a major of the militia,
just then setting off to join his people. We heard (but
I will not vouch for the truth of the report) that a considerable
body of the enemy had been assembled on the high-road,
near to Monsieur Villerey's house, but on learning that
we had landed, and were moving rapidly forward, they separated,
one part retiring towards the town, while the other
went down the river. Our advance now moved on with
celerity, and dashing on to the different farm-houses in the
neighbourhood, seized several groups of arms at each of
them, which it seems had either been abandoned by the
troops to whom they belonged, or had been collected there
for some military purpose. They captured at some of these
farm-houses to the amount of twelve or twenty stand; and
in all not less than fifty.


Monsieur Villerey unfortunately contrived to make his[343]
escape, through the too great leniency of one of our lieutenants.
I think the most probable opinion respecting the
arms and the troops assembled near Monsieur Villerey's is,
that it was the militia of the district just at that moment
assembling, which will not only account for the arms being
found in such numbers, (under the verandas of the houses,)
but also for Monsieur Villerey himself being then on the
point of setting out in his warlike costume, and the number
of men which were observed near his house.


About twenty militiamen were also captured in and
about these houses. Except there, the whites had all abandoned
their houses; but a considerable number of black
slaves remained at each, whether of their own accord, or
left to protect the property, and occasionally convey information
to their masters, I know not. As soon as our advance
had sufficiently reconnoitred the adjacent houses, &c. the
whole of the troops moved on past the house of Monsieur
Villerey, and turning to the right, followed the great road
to New Orleans for about half a mile, till a suitable piece
of ground presenting itself in the neighbourhood of some
other farm-houses, the whole turned in to a green field a
short distance from the road, and forming into close columns
of battalions, commenced bivouacking for the night.
The road ran partly on, and partly alongside of the river
dike. Immediately between the troops and the river, this
dike was perhaps about three feet high. On our right was
a farm-house, and a little to the right and front another—the
latter a pretty large one—all these, and indeed all the
farm-houses in this neighbourhood, are surrounded at one
end by the huts of the slaves, and generally on the other
by barns and other out-buildings, and in the rear a garden
or orchard. The ground in all this country, which is perfectly
flat, apparently of alluvial formation, is divided into[344]
fields, &c. by wooden paling of the common description,
very few hedges being to be seen.


The situation in which the troops were placed, was as
follows, viz. The artillery and rocketeers in one line; immediately
behind them, my battalion and the 85th, in close
column; the 4th in rear of us, and the 93d two companies
in rear of the 4th; the whole in close columns. The men,
as soon as dismissed, instantly set about cooking, for they
had had nothing from the morning before, and it was now
considerably past mid-day. Captain Travers' company, which
had formed the advance-guard, still remained in front as a
picquet, and occupied a post on the great road, about a mile
in front of the division.


About three o'clock P.M., we were all alarmed by some
shots at the advanced picquet; and, on enquiry, found that
an American staff-officer, escorted by about thirty cavalry,
had come galloping down, no doubt for the purpose of reconnoitring
us; when within distance, our people instantly
fired, one of which shots wounded the staff-officer, and another
killed a horse, but they contrived to get him off. This
caused the whole of the troops to fall in till the cause of alarm
was ascertained, after which they set about their cooking
again with great glee. Considerable discussion now began to
take place amongst the knowing ones, as to the merits and
demerits of our situation, in point of security; and of course
various opinions were given on the occasion. One officer
of ours, a particular friend of mine, did not hesitate roundly
to assert, that we were in a most unprotected and dangerous
situation. I do not remember exactly the reasons he
assigned; but certainly, could he have foreseen what yet
remained in the womb of time, he would have had much
stronger reasons for his opinion. Another company of ours,
(Captain Hallen's,) and one of the 85th, were ordered to[345]
prepare at dusk to relieve the picquet in advance; and as
I messed with Captain Hallen's company, I accompanied it
on this duty. I did not go with the main body of the company,
there being no house at that post, but with one section,
commanded by Lieutenant Forbes, and we occupied a
small house to the right, and a little to the rear of Captain
Hallen's party, which was stationed on the great road. The
company of the 85th occupied the large farm-house before-mentioned,
a little to the right and front of the column. I
had purchased an excellent turkey on our arrival at Monsieur
Villerey's house, which we had dressed at this little
house, and made a most hearty meal indeed, after which we
took each a tot or horn of grog to comfort us.


We had not long finished our comfortable meal, when we
were astounded by the report of heavy ordnance, apparently
close to the bivouack of the column, and which reports followed
each other in quick succession. A cheer was also
given, but by whom, or what the occasion of the firing was,
we were totally at a loss to conjecture. I at first imagined
it was some of our men-of-war that had been able to pass
the forts down the river, and that they were firing a salute
and cheering in consequence; and yet this seemed a strange
conjecture; but we did not long remain in suspense, for we
were soon after informed of the real state of the case, that
it was a large American schooner, with at least fourteen guns,
and which she had been enabled to bring to bear upon our
unfortunate bivouack with the most deadly precision, great
numbers having fallen at her first broadside. The troops of
course dispersed in some measure, leaving their fires, which
had too well served as a direction for the fire of this terrible
schooner. But the time was not far distant when we should
have other enemies to encounter; for by the time the
schooner had fired a dozen broadsides, a noise was heard in[346]
our front; and just at this moment an American was
brought in by a man from Captain Hallen's post, who had
foolishly come right into the centre of his picquet, and asking
if they could tell him which way the regulars had gone.
This showed that he was a young soldier, who did not
know our troops from his own; but it also showed that the
regulars which he was seeking could not be far distant;
consequently, every thing was got ready to give them the
best reception possible; but as the people we had heard in
front of the post where I then was appeared to be rather
to our right, I feared lest they might get unawares upon the
company of the 85th, which was stationed in the farm behind
us. I consequently set off with all dispatch to give
them timely warning, but when I arrived there, I could
not find the officers, nor could I see where the picquet was
posted; I therefore thought they must be on the alert at
the bottom of the garden, which lay in the direction in
which we heard the noise; and meeting here an officer and
several of our men, who had moved in this direction, from
the fire of the schooner, I told him I was certain that
Hallen would be shortly most vigorously attacked, from the
information I had learnt respecting the regulars, and advised
him to collect all the men he could, and proceed forthwith
to reinforce him at the advance. This he instantly
did, and it was well, for by this time the firing had commenced
in volleys at that post. I then returned to the
picquet-house, where I had previously dined, and found the
officer was going round his sentries; but as the firing was
going briskly on at Hallen's post, I expected every moment
to be attacked here, and began, in the absence of the officer,
to post the men as advantageously as the nature of the
ground would admit.


The house stood on a little path, or bye-road, running[347]
across the country, from the river towards the wood, and
which, before he could get into, the enemy would have to
clamber over a railing which lay on the side from which
they were advancing. On the hither side of the road was a
ditch, with a hedge, almost the only one to be met with,
and a little copse of small trees. Into this copse I put the
men, extending them along the inside of the hedge, which
would not only keep them from the view of the enemy,
but be some little protection from their fire, and would leave
them the more at liberty to retreat when overpowered by
numbers, as it was certain they must shortly be. But all
my labour was in vain, for when Forbes came from visiting
his sentries, he did not approve of my disposition, but took
them all out, and formed them on the open road, without
any cover, and with a hedge and ditch in their rear, both of
which they would be compelled to pass the moment the
enemy pressed upon him. I felt annoyed, not only at his
want of courtesy to me, but that he would thus expose his
men to almost certain destruction, without being able to
effect any thing against the enemy, or at all check his advance.
I accordingly left him in a huff, and went again to
try to find the picquet of the 85th in the house behind us.
I was determined to make a more close and thorough
search than I had done before, and for this purpose went
over the gates, &c. into the yard behind, when lo, I found
myself within a yard or two of a strong body of the enemy,
which had got into the garden at the lower end, and were
just advancing to the house. I crouched down, and hid in
the best manner I could, and luckily was enabled to creep
off without their discovering who I was. Just as I reached
the outer gate, I found a sergeant of ours there, to whom I
said, we must set off with all possible speed; and accordingly
we both took to our heels, and ran like heroes; the[348]
noise of which brought the fire of twenty or thirty rifles
after us, but luckily without effect.


I now made the best of my way towards where I judged
the main body of our people were, on the great road, in
order to inform Colonel Thornton of what I had seen, of
this column of the enemy having got possession of the
house and garden I had just left, and by doing which they
had nearly separated the advance picquet from the main
body. He said he had sent two companies of ours, and two
of the 85th, to the house immediately in the rear of this I
speak of, and in a short time afterwards they and the Americans
came into close contact, for they immediately commenced
firing; and where as strange a description of fighting
took place as is perhaps on record.


The enemy soon discovered from some men, whom they
had unfortunately taken, what the regiments were that
were opposed to them—and with all that cunning which
the Yankees are famed for, instantly turned it to the best
account—for in several places they advanced in bodies,
crying out at the same time, "Come on, my brave 85th!"
or "My brave 95th!" and thus induced several of our
small detached parties to go over the rails to them, supposing
they were some of our own people, when of course
they were instantly made prisoners. This ruse did not
always succeed, however, for some of the parties turning
restive on their hands, refused to surrender, and thus a
fight hand to hand took place, and in which they generally
had the worst of it.


On one occasion of this kind our people made a body of
them prisoners. The men and officers being requested to
lay down their arms, the officer, after surrendering, when
he saw there were not many of our people, drew a sort of
dirk or knife, and made a stab at the officer of ours who[349]
had taken him. We instantly cried out to the men near
him, one of whom took up his rifle and shot the villain
through the body. They had before this time brought two
of their regular battalions close in front of our advance,
which did not consist of more than 100 men, and were
pouring in dreadful volleys into that small but gallant detachment;
but even in this they showed themselves young
soldiers, for they formed up the two battalions in line at
about forty or fifty yards in distance from the post, and
gave the words "ready—present—fire," with all the precision
of a field-day; but being so near, of course every word
was heard by our people, who, at the critical moment,
always took care to cleave as close to the ground as possible,
by which they escaped most of their shot. They then
up and at them, and, pouring in a desultory but most destructive
fire, brought great numbers of them to the ground.
Their force, however, was too great to be opposed successfully
by such a handful of men, and these brave fellows
were at length compelled to yield a little ground; but it
was not more than just to enable them to cover themselves,
and form again in proper order; and from this time all the
efforts of these two battalions were unable to remove them.
Indeed, not long after, our people became the assailants,
and, advancing again, retook their original position. Poor
Hallen was severely wounded on this occasion, and lost
about forty of his men.


Two or three naval captains came also to see the fight at
Hallen's post, one of whom soon fell severely wounded.
The other, the gallant captain of the Dover frigate, with
whom part of our people went out, and with whom we all
came home, behaved most nobly. Whenever the enemy
had fired their volley, he cried, "Now, my lads, up and
give them another broadside!" and thus contributed, by his[350]
animating conduct, to inspire all around him with confidence.


Poor Forbes just met the fate that I expected. He stood
upon the road, and opened his fire upon the enemy as they
approached; but they being perhaps more than twenty
times his number, he was instantly compelled to give way,
after being himself wounded, having his sergeant killed,
and losing nearly the half of his men. The schooner all
this time kept up a most galling and incessant fire. Some
attempts were made with our light three-pounders, and
with rockets, and even with small-arms, to compel her to
sheer off, but they were all in vain. Her men, protected
by her stout bulwarks which surrounded them, defied all
our efforts, and continued to pour in both round and grape
wherever they judged, from the direction of the fire, our
people were stationed. Luckily the darkness of the night
rendered her fire less destructive than it would otherwise
have been.


A considerable body of the enemy had penetrated to the
house immediately on the right of our original bivouack,
where the firing was kept up between them and the parties
opposed to them with great spirit for a long time; but the
General, having detached the 4th regiment to form line a
little to the rear and right of that house, completely secured
that flank from being farther turned. Notwithstanding this,
the skirmishers of both armies extended to the wood, some
of whom we found lying the next morning almost touching
each other. The firing now began to slacken, the enemy
having been repulsed at all points, and, towards three o'clock
in the morning, it had completely ceased, when they retired,
leaving us in possession of the warmly-contested field.


My battalion had been extremely unfortunate in this
action; for almost at the very outset, when the attack on[351]
Hallen's picquet commenced, Major Mitchell, our commandant,
had taken a party of about twenty or thirty men,
and advanced for the purpose of supporting that post. Between
the bivouack, however, and the point he intended to
reach, he unexpectedly fell in with a large body of Americans,
(for it was so dark he could not distinguish who they
were,) when both himself, and all the men he had with him,
were made prisoners. The loss of our five companies in this
action was about 120 men; that of the 85th more, I believe;
and in all, I think, it amounted to about 300 men.
The loss of the enemy must have been considerably greater,
if we are to judge from the number of dead they left on the
field, and, which is a good criterion, the general average
being about ten wounded for one killed.


Nothing could equal the bravery of the few troops we
had in the field on this occasion. Their numbers certainly
did not amount to 1800 men; while the enemy could not
have had fewer than from 4000 to 5000. They had two regular
regiments, the 7th and 44th; they had a large corps of
irregular riflemen from Kentucky, and another stronger
corps from Tennessee, with all the militia of New Orleans
and its neighbourhood, every man who is able being compelled
to bear arms in case of invasion. They had about
300 irregular horse, whether militia or not I cannot tell,
but think it likely they were in all at least 4000 men—with
the great and effectual assistance of the schooner,
which did us more mischief than 1000 men could have
done, probably not so much by the loss she occasioned us,
as, by being able to fire on our flank, and even in our rear,
she rendered the enemy the most essential service, besides
the fire of the ship on our advanced picquet.


We were thus completely surrounded on three sides, and
had not the troops behaved with the most determined courage[352]
and intrepidity, we must have been driven back, and
eventually the greater part would have been taken prisoners;
for the path to the water was quite narrow, and even
should we reach the head of the creek where we landed, the
boats had probably all left it by this time to return for the
other troops. Indeed it was reported afterwards, that the
arrangements of General Jackson were such, that we were
to have been attacked in the rear at the same time as in
front, and by the schooner; but the troops for that purpose
either not being in readiness, or being too distant to arrive
in time, were too late to take part in the action, but
arrived about three o'clock in the morning, when they
met with a half-drunk artillery-driver of ours near Mons.
Villerey's house, as he was returning from the field, and
who, seeing a large body of men, which he took for some
of our other regiments that had landed, cried out to them,
"Come on, my lads, for the Yankees never got such a
licking in their lives!" This, it is said, had the effect of
frightening them back, without proceeding farther.


I will not vouch for this being fact, but such was the
report the next morning; and indeed it is feasible, from
the number of people (apparently going with orders, &c.)
which we saw galloping down on the other side of the river
in the afternoon; and it is certain that a considerable body
of militia must have resided down the river, setting aside
the report which I mentioned, of some troops having retired
in that direction in the morning, when we first advanced;
and nothing would have tended more to our complete overthrow
than such an attack on our rear, could it have been
accomplished.


I might here mention, that Captain Hallen saw the
schooner as she passed his picquet, on her way down from
New Orleans, on which he instantly despatched a man with[353]
the information; but she having the current in her favour,
sailed much quicker than the man could run, consequently
his information came too late.


I omitted to mention also, that a large ship of 20 guns
came down the river at the same time with the schooner,
but being less manageable than that vessel, she had anchored
abreast of Hallen's picquet; and that he had to sustain her
fire, as well as that of the troops in his front, during the
whole of the attack of the 23d. She remained at that spot
without moving.


I will here also notice another circumstance which took
place at this post. An American rifleman fell into the
hands of some of Captain Hallen's people, who, when he was
brought in, were desired to take his arms from him. These
he seemed reluctant to part with, and said to the officer,
"Recollect I shall hold you responsible for that rifle, if you
take it from me!"—on which the officer took hold of it by
the muzzle, and flung it right into the river. I daresay the
poor fellow thought they were a strange sort of people he
had got amongst; and I doubt not he had set a great value
upon his rifle.


Another officer and myself had a providential escape the
next morning, for we had scarcely left a little wooden hut,
behind which we had taken up our abode, and slept for a few
hours after the fight, when bang comes an eighteen-pound
shot right through the house, just at the very spot where
we had a minute or two before been sitting. It seems the
captain of the schooner, which still lay abreast of us at
about 800 yards distance, and from which this shot had
been fired, was determined we should not occupy any of the
houses in the vicinity, for, beginning with our hut, which
was nearest to him, he fired into every house within reach
of his guns, although he saw as plainly as we did that most[354]
of them were filled with the wounded; nay, he carried his
savage cruelty so far, that he actually fired on a party of the
85th as they were removing one of their wounded officers.
It could not be pleaded that he did not know what it was,
for, being only half-a-mile distant, and much elevated above
our level, with a glass he could see as well as we could
what they were doing, for they were carrying the poor fellow
on a bier, on their shoulders. He continued this cruel
work all the next day, the ship also giving us an occasional
shot. One shot which he fired went through the front of
a house in which some of our wounded men were lying, and,
striking low, it carried the knapsack out from under the
head of a man of ours named Rayour, which he had put for
a pillow, without doing him the smallest injury. I could
not credit the story till I went and actually saw the hole by
which it entered, the knapsack and the shot lying near the
fire-place. After this I went to view the house where I had
fallen in with the column of the enemy the night before,
and where the 85th were now stationed; but the fire of the
schooner still continued, one shot from which we saw was
directed towards us. It fell right in among the 85th, and,
striking a corporal about the breach, as he was endeavouring
to get out of its way, it passed out at his breast, on
which he gave himself a sort of shake, and fell lifeless to
the earth.


Nothing could exceed the great annoyance this mischievous
schooner continued to be to us all that and the
next day, for they not only saw every thing we did, but we
could not move in any number without being saluted with
an 18 lb. shot, and we had no means of retaliation. But
during the 25th, efforts were made to get up some heavier
guns from the fleet, and every thing having been settled as
to the plan, &c., a battery was constructed as close to the[355]
water's edge as possible in the river dike, and a number of
gun barrels having been collected from those broken, &c.
during the late fight, a sort of furnace was erected for the
purpose of heating shot, with which it was determined to
give her a salute the next morning. Every thing succeeded
admirably. The battery was constructed, embrasures cut,
and shot heated, and all ready by daylight on the morning
of the 26th; of course we were all looking out to witness
the effect, and most noble it was, for when the guns opened
out upon her, the people on board seemed quite thunderstruck,
and although they attempted to return our fire, it
was only like the blows of a man beat blind by his antagonist,
for her shot fell in every other direction but that in
which she should have thrown them. However, they could
not stand to fire more than one round, as our hot shot rendered
their situation very soon untenable, and taking to
their boats, they made their escape to the opposite shore
with all expedition.


The distance from the battery to the schooner had been
so accurately measured by Major Blanchard, who superintended
the construction of the work, that almost every shot
and shell penetrated the hull of the vessel, and in a short
time after her crew had left her, she broke out into a blaze
of fire, which soon reaching the magazine, she blew up with
a loud explosion, to the great comfort and joy of all our
army. This of course deserved and obtained three as hearty
cheers as I believe were ever given by Britons, and no doubt
the Americans were greatly chagrined at the loss of their
fine and exceedingly useful vessel. A shell or two were
directed towards the ship, but she having seen the fate of
the schooner, got out her boats, which, taking her in tow,
she set off up the river in all haste. Could a battery have
been constructed to fire upon her at the same time, it would[356]
have saved us some hard knocks afterwards. She, however,
effected her escape, and we now remained in peace for a few
days at least.


On the 25th, Sir Edward Packenham and General Gibbs
had arrived; the former immediately assumed the command,
and they both set off to the front to reconnoitre the enemy
and the kind of country around us. Every night since our
arrival the enemy had been incessant in their means to harass
and annoy us, as in truth they had a right to do if they
pleased, but it was exceedingly distressing to the troops,
and therefore I mention it. They seldom let an hour pass
during the night, that they were not firing at some of our
out sentries, and on some occasions they brought the body
of irregular cavalry, before mentioned, immediately in front
of our outposts, and fired volleys, which, although it did
not do much injury to our advanced picquets, had the effect
of turning out the whole line, and that often repeated, with
the annoyance from the schooner, certainly did not leave us
much time for comfortable rest. They frequently lay in ambush
for the reliefs of our sentries also, and patrols, and
fired upon them sometimes with effect. In short, they did
all they could to annoy and weary us out, but of which we
ought not to complain, as they were defending their own
country, and allowances ought to be made in such a case
that would not be tolerated in an army having no interest
in the soil. I trust Englishmen will be equally zealous
and bitter to their enemies should our country ever be invaded.


[357]


CHAPTER XVIII.


British Army told off into Brigades—Advance, and are hotly received—Heroism
of a young Artillery Officer—We take up a fresh position—The
Enemy work incessantly in raising an extensive breastwork—Two
Batteries erected, from which our heavy Ship Artillery are
brought to bear against it, but without effect—The Enemy also place
their Ship Guns on Batteries—Colonel Lambert arrives with the 7th
and 43d regiments—Preparations for a grand attack on the Enemy's
lines, which entirely fails, and the British are repulsed with great
loss.


The remainder of the army all arrived during the 24th,
and were put in bivouack in an oblique direction, with
their front to the late field of action, their right thrown back
towards the wood, and their left towards Mons. Villerey's
house. The 93d formed line in advance at an angle of the
wood, as a sort of outpost, while the 85th and ours were
stationed in and around the house, to which I have so often
alluded, i. e. where I fell in with the column of the enemy.
Our advanced picquets remained the same as before the
action. If I might here be permitted to hazard an opinion,
I should say that had we advanced upon New Orleans the
morning after the fight, I think there is little doubt we
should have been successful; for when an irregular and undisciplined
body of troops once meet with a reverse, it is
difficult to bring them into action again with that steadiness
and determination which they often evince in their first
essay.[358]


I understood General Jackson had some trouble in keeping
them together after their defeat on the night of the 23d,
and the only mode in which he could get them to form was,
in planting the first who retired in line near the road, and
as each successive detachment arrived from the fight, they
were made to form on their left, the whole line sitting or
laying down for the remainder of the night. It is easy to
perceive that they would have been quite unmanageable
should they have been seriously attacked, while their spirits
were depressed by their recent failure, and as the works
which we afterwards encountered did not then exist, at
least only in part, I think they would have retired after a
very slight resistance indeed. I had the information as to
the manner in which they formed, from some of those who
were made prisoners, and who witnessed it. All this, however,
is merely the opinion of a private individual, who
judged from appearances only, and it is not in the nature of
things probable that I should be able to form so correct a
one as those who possessed more ample information.


After the arrival of the two general officers before mentioned,
the army was told off into brigades as follows, viz.
the 1st brigade, commanded by General Gibbs, consisted of
the 4th, 21st, and 44th British, and 5th West India regiments;
the 2d brigade, commanded by General Keane,
consisted of the 85th, 93d, and 95th British, and 1st West
India regiments, (observe, the West India regiments had
by this time become exceedingly reduced in point of numbers
from cold and hardship, which they seemed unable to
bear, and very soon after almost ceased to be regiments, so
many of them were sent away sick;) the artillery was
commanded by Colonel Dickson, an excellent officer; the
squadron of the 14th light dragoons not being able to get[359]
mounted, formed the guards at the hospitals, and at head-quarters,
&c.


Every thing having been previously arranged on the
morning of the 28th, we advanced in two columns, the
right near the wood commanded by General Gibbs, and ours
on the left by the great road near the river, commanded by
General Keane. The enemy had all along kept possession
of those farm-houses which lay at some distance in front of
our picquets. They were consequently driven from these
as we moved forward, which we did, I should imagine, to
the distance of about three miles, their picquets retiring
gradually before us. We here discovered that the enemy
had thrown up a strong field-work, which extended from
the river to the wood, and which consequently shut up
every avenue to our farther advance, without fighting. We
also found that their numbers had considerably increased,
as we could perceive by the immense bodies of troops behind
their works. As we pressed upon their picquets as
they retired, we got a shot or two at them with our field-guns;
but every thing remained quiet within their lines till
we had arrived within about 400 yards of them, when
they opened out on the head of our columns as destructive
a fire of artillery as I ever witnessed. One shot struck in
the column of the 85th, which knocked down two officers and
about ten men. My battalion was leading, and being partly
extended skirmishing, they did not offer so fair a mark for
artillery as a solid body, and consequently escaped this.


The ship also, which was anchored a little in advance of
their work, opened her broadside on the columns on the
road at the same time. Our gun and howitzer, the only two
pieces we had there, endeavoured to return the fire of the
ship, but without doing her much injury. When the fire
was found to be so galling, the troops were moved off the[360]
road into the fields on the right, and my battalion advancing
about 100 paces farther, was ordered to lay down in a sort
of ditch which was there, and to shelter themselves the best
way they could. The 85th and 93d formed also more to
the right, and secured themselves as well as the nature of
the ground would admit. It was only intended as a reconnoissance,
consequently the troops did not advance farther,
as soon as the nature of their position was ascertained. It
appeared to be a high dike of casks, formed as a breastwork,
with a considerable quantity of artillery mounted on it, and
with a sort of canal or wet ditch in front of it.


Of course, all this took some time to ascertain, during
which they kept up an incessant cannonade, both from their
works and from the ship. The latter poured in an immense
quantity of large grape, which rendered the situation of
those exposed to it extremely unpleasant. Our two fieldpieces
were very soon silenced by the superior fire of the
enemy, and in an hour after our arrival at this point, there
was not a man left with them but the officer, who was quite
a youth, but yet stood as steady as if he had been on a
common parade, although all his men were knocked down
about him. I never witnessed more devoted heroism than
this fine young man displayed. One shot, nearly towards
the last, struck off his sergeant's head, and sent his cap
spinning over a ditch, where another officer and I had taken
up our post. Some rockets were also tried from this point,
both against the ship and the enemy's works, but those directed
against the vessel flew quite wide of the mark, and
totally failed. Some of those fired into the works, we saw
pass over the heads of the men posted in them, but whether
they produced any effect we could not see.


The enemy either had set fire to the houses near us before
they retired from them, or they had fired heated shot[361]
with a view of producing that effect; but we had not been
long here ere the whole of the houses in the neighbourhood
were in one grand and terrific blaze of fire. I do not exactly
know what was done on the right, for we could not
see distinctly for some trees which grew in the garden of the
farm in that direction, but imagine they encountered something
similar to ourselves, as the play of artillery from the
enemy's line in front of them was equally unceasing with
that in our front. Not a man showed himself out of the
enemy's works.


When every thing was ascertained that could be, the
troops began gradually to draw off, but this was obliged to
be conducted in a very cautious manner, or the loss from
their fire would have been severe. The 93d retired first,
by separate wings, afterwards the 85th, but ours did not
leave their ground till after dark, when, I believe, some of
the Yankees began to advance in a rather triumphant and
bullying manner, but were taught to keep at a respectful
distance by a few shots well laid in among them. A party
of sailors had been sent forward to bring off the two fieldpieces,
there being no artillerymen left to do it, and we had
no horses. They undertook and accomplished this task
most cheerfully and effectually, without a man hurt I believe.


The loss of my battalion on this occasion was not great.
The army now took up a fresh position in which to bivouack,
at about a mile and a half distance from the enemy's
line, but which they could easily reach with the shot and
shells of their larger pieces. The head-quarters were removed
from Monsieur Villerey's house to a large farm or chateau
behind our new lines, and which were formed in the following
manner, viz.:—the 4th and 44th composed one line,
with their right near the wood. The 21st formed on their[362]
left, but with an intervening space between them. The 85th
and 93d formed one line on the left of the 21st, with an
interval between their line and that regiment. This latter
line was rather in an oblique direction, with its front towards
a farm-house in advance and to the left, and where
my battalion was ordered to take its station. This latter
post was more exposed to the enemy's shot than any of the
others; it being a good deal advanced, and being close to the
river, the guns from the opposite shore ceased not firing on
it, generally with hot shot. The men were put into a sugar
house belonging to this chateau, the floor of which being
sunk a little below the surface of the adjoining earth, protected
them wonderfully; but on occasions they had their
very cooking utensils knocked off the fire by the enemy's
shot, in consequence of the exposed situation of this house.
The acting quartermaster and myself being deemed civilians,
and having no inclination to be deprived of our natural
rest at night, as long as we could be allowed to obtain
it, took up our abode in one of the outhouses at head-quarters,
which we found unoccupied, and where our respective
duties could be carried on with as much facility as if we
were in the same house with the battalion, the distance between
them being only about half a mile.


Here, also, the sick and wounded were brought, where
they could enjoy more comfort than in the sugar-house, till
an opportunity offered of sending them down to the shipping.
To secure our front a little more, and to protect the
troops against the shot from the opposite shore, a redoubt
was thrown up about half a mile in front of the right, and
pretty near the wood; while batteries and breastworks
were constructed on the road, to fire on any vessels of the
enemy which might come down the river. These latter
were principally constructed of hogsheads of sugar, which[363]
were found in the sugar-houses of the different plantations
in the neighbourhood. But nothing could have answered
worse than they did for this purpose, the enemy's shot
going quite through them, without being at all deadened
almost by the resistance they offered. In front of the left
also, inside the road, a breastwork was thrown up, which
secured the persons of a corps of marines and sailors, who
occupied that part of the line. This body was, soon after
the 28th, landed from the fleet; and the latter, having
brought small arms on shore with them, acted as a small
battalion.


It is evident the enemy must have worked incessantly,
from our first landing, to complete the work they occupied;
for, from the information I before mentioned, as given me
by one of the Spanish fishermen, it is clear they had only
two guns, mounted on something like a battery, on the great
road. But now that work extended even into the wood, a
distance of at least three quarters of a mile, and at this time
there could not be less than ten or twelve pieces of heavy
ordnance mounted on it. We were told by the slaves
who had remained in the houses, that the ditch behind
which they had constructed this work was a sort of small
canal, which the gentleman who owned the property used
for the purpose of transporting the produce of his farm
from thence into the river. From this time we could plainly
perceive great numbers of men continually at work upon it,
mostly blacks, of which they would, of course, have abundance;
but their white people also (the army, we conclude)
were constantly employed upon it. We could see distinctly
that they were widening and deepening the canal in front
of the work, and raising the parapet to a considerable height.


It was now determined to try what our heavy ship-artillery
would do against this work. Accordingly, the[364]
greater part of the army were employed in bringing up
these unwieldy machines, and to effect which required no
slight power and perseverance, as we had no means of
transport but the sheer strength of a number of men combined,
to drag them successively through the deep soil. A
sufficient number of them having been brought up by the
31st, strong working parties were employed all night in
erecting two batteries, as near to the enemy's works as they
could with safety venture, and getting the guns, carriages,
and ammunition, &c., into them. These were formed
principally of casks, &c., filled with earth; and I am not
sure that some sugar hogsheads were not used on the occasion.
However, at daylight on the morning of the 1st Jan.
1815, the whole of the troops were ordered under arms,
and moved forward to nearly the same points they occupied
on the 28th ult.


This morning there was an extremely thick fog, which
greatly favoured our movements, the Americans being, I
believe, totally ignorant that any alteration had taken place
in the situation of our army. As soon as the fog cleared
away, our artillery opened out a tremendous and thundering
cannonade upon the enemy's line, which so completely
astonished them, that there was not a shot returned for
twenty minutes at least, so little did they expect heavy
artillery there. Nay, we heard afterwards that a great
number of the irregular troops were so alarmed, that they
actually quitted the lines without orders, and were posting
off to New Orleans, and were with great difficulty brought
back again. As soon as they perceived, however, that
nothing more than a cannonade was intended, and that our
troops did not advance to the attack, they commenced gradually
with their artillery against ours, the fire of which
increasing as their confidence increased, they were not[365]
long in silencing our guns, and in dismounting some of
them. The fact is, our works had been thrown up in such
haste, that they were not nearly so strong as they ought to
have been made, had there been more time; the consequence
was, their shot penetrated into every part of our
works, and caused us not only considerable loss in artillerymen,
(with one officer killed,) but, as I said before, actually
dismounted a great many of our guns. This consequently
entirely failed of having the desired effect; but with such
a very favourable opportunity as this morning's fog presented,
together with the alarm and terror with which the
enemy were struck on opening our artillery upon them, there
is not the most distant doubt that we should have at once
got possession of their lines, had we but advanced to the
attack. It is true, we were not prepared for passing the
ditch, having no fascines or other necessaries for that purpose;
but the resistance, in my opinion, would have been
so slight, that we might almost have chosen our own place
to cross it; and it was not very deep at any place. The
battalion of sailors were quite annoyed at being kept looking
on, while so fair an opportunity, as they thought, offered,
and were crying out one to another, "Why don't we
go on? what is keeping us back?"


'Tis not to be doubted that the first effect of any new
thing in warfare is always the most certain of producing
success, particularly against inexperienced troops; but let
them see and know the whole of the effects that such a
thing is calculated to produce, and the alarm wears off, and
confidence and courage return with wonderful rapidity. So
it was here; the first fire of our guns struck them dumb
with amazement and terror—But mark the contrast! Both
the latter part of this day, and on the 8th, at the general
attack, how little they seemed to care for all the artillery[366]
we could bring against them! Their gun, a 32-pounder,
was a most bitter antagonist to our principal battery. This
happened to be erected nearly in front of that part of the
line where this gun was situated, and when it fired, its shot
always struck the battery at the first bound, and then it
ricocheted into the redoubt where I had taken up my post.
General Keane, with a part of his brigade, was in this latter
work, and some of them narrowly escaped the effects of
the numerous balls thrown from this gun. We were told
the captain of the schooner, after having been deprived of
his vessel, had been appointed to the charge and management
of this gun, with some of his crew to work it; and
indeed it seemed very like the bitter and determined manner
of our former opponent, for any of the other guns
seemed like children's play to the unceasing and destructive
fire of this heavy piece of ordnance. I could distinctly see
that they were sailors that worked it—one of whom, a
large mulatto, with a red shirt, always spunging her out
after firing.


In what I am going to relate, I know I shall incur the
risk of being deemed a traveller by some of my readers,
but that shall not deter me from telling what I plainly and
repeatedly saw with my own eyes, assisted by a glass. At
the distance of three quarters of a mile, I could distinctly
perceive the ball from this gun every time it was fired, it
appearing like a small black spot in the midst of the column
of white smoke, and which gradually grew larger in appearance
as it approached us. In many instances I was providentially
the cause of saving some of the men who were in
the redoubt with us, because, seeing which way the ball
was coming, I told them when to lie down; and on one
occasion was the shave so close, that it actually carried
away one of the men's packs as he lay on the ground. Another[367]
shot struck about three feet above our heads, and
carried away part of a piece of timber which supported a
shed just behind us.


I forgot to mention, that, after the 28th, the Americans,
conceiving that the guns of the ship would be of more use
if taken out and placed in batteries, this was accordingly
done; the greater part of them being planted on the other
side of the river, and being completely on our flank, were
enabled to annoy our people considerably, who were posted
near the great road.


About two or three o'clock in the afternoon of the 1st,
the army began again to retire to its bivouack, leaving covering
parties to protect the batteries; and after night, the
whole having formed, working parties were sent to bring
off as many of the heavy guns as possible. Some of these,
however, they were obliged to bury in the earth, not being
able to drag them away before daylight next morning. This
work seemed more oppressive and fatiguing to the troops
than the bringing of them up did, inasmuch as they were
animated in the latter instance by the hope of their being
able to effect something against the enemy through their
toil and labour; but now disappointment added poignancy
to their sufferings. However, although things began to
assume not quite so favourable an aspect as formerly, yet
every thing was borne with the greatest good-will, as they
were still confident of all their laborious services being ultimately
crowned with success. In all these fatiguing services,
the sailors bore an ample share, and were of the very utmost
benefit to the whole army, for they could readily contrive
the means of moving those immense masses of metal by
purchases, &c., which to a soldier would be utterly impossible.
Indeed, throughout the whole service, the gallant tars[368]
deserved the very highest praise, for they were equally
brave as laborious and willing.


All hands, both soldiers and sailors, had been up the
whole of the night of the 31st, and now up again all night
of the 1st. This was very trying, no doubt. If any thing
like dissatisfaction was evinced, this incessant toil and want
of rest in encountering it, arose more from a desire to be led
on to the attack, than from any wish to be rid of their
labours, however painful these were. As this attempt had
failed, no other scheme now appeared to present itself, but
a vigorous and well sustained attack on their line; for
several efforts had been made to penetrate through the
wood, to endeavour to ascertain whether it was possible to
turn their position at that point, but all these efforts had
failed. The last that was attempted was conducted by
Lieutenant Wright of the engineers, but both himself and
nearly all his party perished; for it seems they fell in with
a body of American riflemen, who, being much better accustomed
to travelling in woods than our people were, fell
on them, and, as said before, nearly cut off the whole party;
yet it is evident it was not utterly impassable, or the two
parties could not have met.


I do not recollect to what regiment the men belonged who
accompanied Wright, but think it probable they were altogether
unacquainted with that description of service, which
led them into the fatal snare in which they fell. I am confident
I saw blacks, who passed and repassed by the wood,
but it is certain that no attempt upon a large scale could
be made in that direction to turn their position; and it was
probably the better plan to abandon the idea altogether.
A very excellent expedient was however devised, for the
purpose of turning the right flank of the enemy; it was
certainly a bold and vigorous idea, and one which, if successful,[369]
would no doubt have secured to us the victory and
the possession of New Orleans. This was no less than
cutting a canal, in order to unite the Mississippi with the
lake by which we had arrived, and by getting boats out of
the latter into the river, to transport a sufficient number of
men to the opposite shore, for the purpose of making a
diversion in aid of the principal attack on this side.


Nothing could exceed the grandness of the conception.
Accordingly, all hands were set to work to widen and
deepen the rill of water which flows into the creek at the
landing-place, and, continuing it up past Monsieur Villerey's
house, to let it enter the river a little above that point.
This, as may easily be conceived, was most laborious and
dirty work; and, lest the health and spirits of the troops
should suffer from such incessant fatigue, they were told
off into four watches or spells, each of which followed the
other in regular succession, so that the work never stood
still. When it had reached near the house and high-road,
screens were put up on the latter, to prevent the enemy on
the opposite bank of the river from seeing what was carrying
on; but as the blacks were passing and repassing
almost continually by the wood, as I before mentioned, no
doubt the Americans were well acquainted with what we
were doing.


On the —— General Lambert arrived with the 7th and
43d regiments, to our great joy, two finer regiments not
being in the service. Consequently every eye now sparkled
with hope, that our labours and privations would soon terminate,
as every one confidently anticipated a favourable
result, and seemed still inclined to despise that enemy who
had shown us that we could not do so with impunity. We
were glad to meet many of our old Peninsular friends in
these two fine corps, and of course welcomed them to the[370]
New World in the best manner we were capable of. They
took up their ground a little in front of the canal which
was cutting, there not being room sufficient for them in the
line of our bivouack. We were now about 7000 effective
troops, and all beginning to cheer up again, imagined nothing
could withstand us.


By the 6th the canal was finished, and the boats brought
up into it. There was obliged to be a lock in it at the entrance
from the river, for the strength of which Sir Edward,
our Chief, I understand, expressed his apprehensions, but
was assured by the engineer that there was not the slightest
danger. I give this merely as report.


On the 7th the arrangements for the attack next morning
having been completed, orders were issued to that effect.
The arrangements were as follows, viz.—a corps consisting
of the 85th regiment, with 200 sailors and 400 marines, and
the 5th West India regiment, with four light fieldpieces,
the whole under the command of Colonel Thornton, was to
embark in boats by twelve o'clock, and to be all across the
river by daylight next morning. This force would amount
to about 1200 or 1300 men, and were destined to attack
and carry the works on the opposite bank, getting possession
of the guns without allowing them to be spiked if possible,
when they were to be turned upon the right flank of
the enemy's position, on this side the river, to favour our
attack. It is clear, then, that this movement should precede
that of the grand attack by a considerable space of time.
In the grand attack the troops were to be disposed as follows,
viz.—The right column, under General Gibbs, was to
consist of the 4th, 21st, 44th, and three companies of my
battalion, which latter were to extend as close to the enemy's
work as possible, previous to the advance of the
column, and, by maintaining a constant fire, were to endeavour[371]
to keep the enemy down as much as possible. The
44th was to be divided; one-half of that corps was to carry
fascines, &c., which they were to throw into the ditch on
reaching it, in order that the remaining regiments of that
column might be able to pass it. These fascines were to be
had in the redoubt I before mentioned. The other wing
of the 44th was to lead that column, followed by the 21st,
and then the 4th, regiments. This was to be the principal
attack. The left column, commanded by General Keane,
was to be composed as follows, viz.—one company of the
7th, one of the 21st, one of the 43d, and two of ours. The
whole to be supported by the 93d regiment. These were
to make a feint attack upon the half-moon work which the
enemy had constructed near the river, and if opportunity
offered, to turn it into a real attack, and penetrate the enemy's
line, co-operating with the other column. Our two
companies were to act here in the same manner as the other
three with whom they were to form a junction, thus covering
the whole front of the enemy's work. Some blacks of
the 1st West India regiment were to enter the wood on the
right of our right column, and to keep up as much noise as
possible by firing and sounding bugles, &c. to induce a belief
that a large body of troops was moving in that direction.
The reserve, under General Lambert, was to consist of the
7th and 43d regiments, and was to be so stationed as to be
able to render aid to either of the attacking columns. Strict
orders were given that no obstacle was to be permitted to
retard the advance of the columns, but that they were to
press forward and endeavour to overcome every hinderance
that might present itself.


As far as I recollect, and from the information I have
since gained, these were substantially the orders issued, and
arrangements made, on this occasion. The commanding-officers[372]
and heads of departments were also assembled, and
each told the part he had to perform; on which occasion, I
understand, the commanding-officer of the 44th expressed
himself in terms which I could scarcely conceive it possible
could fall from the lips of a soldier, which were, that "it
was a forlorn hope with the 44th." In all my campaigning
I never yet heard a commanding-officer who did not look
upon the post of danger as the post of honour, and who did
not rejoice, as if a favour was conferred on him, when appointed
to an arduous or hazardous duty. Had the commanding-officer
of the 44th served in the Peninsula under
our illustrious leader there, he would, I am confident, have
been animated by a quite different spirit. After dark I
went with my commanding-officer and adjutant to view the
ground over which our battalion was to march next morning,
and to find out the wooden bridges, &c. over some
ditches which lay in the way, that no delay might take
place when they were to be called upon to act.


I was sadly disappointed at our not meeting with any
other commanding-officers engaged in this most necessary
duty, and at the time I expressed my apprehensions as to
the result. I pointed out to him the different manner in
which the business had been conducted previous to the
assault of Badajos, and previous to the attack on the enemy's
position on the Nivelle, where every commanding-officer,
or others, who had any particular duty assigned to
them in the next day's operations, were brought to ground
from which it was clearly pointed out to them how they
were to move and act; but here all seemed apathy and fatal
security, arising from our too much despising our enemy.
This latter, I believe, was the principal cause of our not
taking the necessary precautions, and consequently of our
failure; particularly the commanding-officer of the 44th[373]
ought to have been brought and shown where the fascines
were lodged, that no excuse of ignorance on that score might
be pleaded. A rocket thrown up was to be the signal for the
troops to advance to the attack, after they had been properly
posted under the cover of night for that purpose. I own
I did not at all feel satisfied with what I had seen and heard,
and retired to rest with a considerable degree of despondency
on my mind; and as I knew I could render little aid
to the service in a case like the present, I determined I
should not take any part in it, for I almost felt confident of
its failure.


The whole of the troops were at their post by the time
appointed; but, unfortunately, as the sailors, &c. were
getting the boats out of the canal into the river, the lock
gave way after only a very few had passed it. Thus the
whole business seemed at one blow to be totally ruined.
Every effort was made to remedy the evil, but it was irremediable.
They toiled, however, to get more boats into
the river, but the delay had been so great that it began to
draw towards dawn before they had effected any thing worth
mentioning. Poor Sir Edward seemed like one bereft of
his reason, for this failure had blasted all his most sanguine
hopes; and as the troops were now close under the enemy's
works, and could not be withdrawn before daybreak, nor
without being perceived by the enemy, he thought it as
dangerous to turn back as to go forward with the operation,
consequently he ordered the rocket to be fired, although it
was considerably past the time for the attack to take place,
and no troops on the opposite shore. As soon as this was
done, he galloped to the front. But the enemy had been
quite prepared, and opened such a heavy fire upon the different
columns, and upon our line of skirmishers, (which had
been formed for some time within about 100 or 150 yards[374]
of the enemy's work,) as it is not easy to conceive. I was
not in it as I said before, but I was so posted as to see it
plainly. But the 44th, with the fascines, were not to be
found. Their commanding-officers had taken them considerably
past the redoubt where the fascines were placed, and
when he bethought him of what he had to do, he and his
men were obliged to turn back to seek them; and thus, when
he ought to have been in front to throw them into the ditch
to allow the other troops to pass over, he was nearly half a
mile in rear seeking for them. But I believe it would not
have availed much had they been there in time, for the
right column never reached the point to which it was directed;
but from the dreadful fire of every kind poured
into it, some of the battalions began to waver, to halt and
fire, and at last one of them completely broke, and became
disorganized. Sir Edward seeing this rushed forward with
his hat in his hand, and endeavouring to animate them by
his presence, he cheered them on to advance again; but at
this moment he fell, after receiving two wounds, the last
of which was mortal. General Gibbs also fell nearly at the
same time mortally wounded, and was borne off the field.
Thus was the right and principal column deprived of both
its leaders; and although one regiment gave ground, and
could not be brought again to the attack, the other continued
to keep in a body, although any attempt now must be hopeless,
and they were losing such numbers of men that they
must shortly be annihilated. They accordingly retired without
effecting any thing.


The left column succeeded somewhat better; but, as
things turned out, it was only to enhance their own loss.
They forced their way into the circular work before mentioned,
in which they made all the men who defended it
prisoners. But the canal still lay between them and the[375]
main work, which was passed only by a plank; and being
so few in numbers, it would have been madness in them to
attempt to go beyond where they had at present stationed
themselves. Indeed, they were in a most critical situation;
for, being within a few yards of the enemy's main body,
they could not move without being shot through the head
by their riflemen; and it was not till they had threatened
to shoot the prisoners they had taken, that they induced
the Americans to desist from attacking them; for by this
time General Keane also had fallen severely wounded, and
the 93d had been nearly cut to pieces; and General Lambert,
with the reserve, had been obliged to advance and
cover the retreat of the other columns. Colonel Dale,
who commanded the 93d, fell early in the action, and the
command devolved on Colonel Creagh; this officer, being
unwilling to retire his regiment without effecting the object
aimed at, although the men were literally mown down by
the murderous fire of the enemy, and the other column had
given way, still endeavoured to advance, but was at length
reluctantly compelled to retrograde, taking care to keep his
men together. This showed a fine and noble feeling in
him, and is equally honourable to his gallant regiment; but
unfortunately it tended only to swell the list of killed and
wounded on this lamentable occasion.


My people were thus left to shift for themselves, and to
get away in the best manner they could. But being extended,
and not being so good an object for the artillery to
fire at as the columns, they escaped with much less loss
than could well be supposed. Some few of them reached
the ditch when they saw the columns advancing, and which
they say could have been passed with ease; but the columns
never advanced so far, which had they done, and that rapidly,
their loss would not have been half so great; for the[376]
enemy's troops in front of the right column were evidently
intimidated, and ceased firing for some seconds as the column
approached; and there is little doubt, had they pushed
on to the ditch with celerity, the Americans would have
abandoned their line; at least, such is my humble opinion.
But the poor fellows on the left, who had gained the only
work which fell into our hands on this bank of the river,
were still detained there, unable either to advance or retreat;
and not one durst show his head above the parapet,
or he was instantly shot dead.


Such was their confined and critical situation at this
period, that an officer of the 7th, whose name I forget,
being himself rather tall, and wearing at this time the high
narrow-topped cap, could not squeeze in sufficiently close
to cover himself completely by the parapet, the top of the
high cap he wore sticking above the top of the work. This
part of the cap, which was visible to the Americans within
the line, had no less than four or five rifle-shots put through
it while he lay there, but without touching his head. All
this information respecting these three companies I had
from Lieutenant Steele of the 43d, one of the officers who
was in the work.


They were obliged at last to adopt a very singular but
politic expedient, which was, to make one of the American
prisoners embrace a man of the 43d, and thus to stand up
together to see what was going forward; for hitherto they
were totally ignorant, from the causes above assigned. The
enemy durst not fire in such a case, for fear of killing their
own man. The news they now learned was most disheartening
indeed, which was, that the whole of the British had
retired, and that the Americans were coming out of their
lines, and were moving in the direction of that work. Nothing
now remained but to surrender, or to make an attempt[377]
to retreat, at the risk of being every man knocked down.
The latter, however, they preferred; on which Colonel
Rennie, of the 21st, who commanded these three companies,
was the first to make the experiment, and in doing
which, the moment after he left the fort, he fell to rise no
more. They thought it better for them all to go at once,
and instantly the whole party made a rush out of the work.
The greater part of them providentially succeeded in effecting
their escape, although many a brave fellow fell in the
attempt.


[378]


CHAPTER XIX.


Bravery and Success of Colonel Thornton—Negotiation for leave to
transport the Wounded across the River—Insult offered to the British—They
retreat—Our Army embark, and determine to make an
Attack upon Mobile—Proceed in the direction of Mobile Bay—A
Brigade detached to reduce Fort Boyer—The Fort surrenders, the
Garrison becoming Prisoners of War—Intelligence of a Treaty of
Peace being concluded at Ghent—Cessation of Hostilities.


It now remains to detail the operations of Colonel
Thornton's party. It will be seen, that, although his
people were all ready at the appointed hour, they could not
get a sufficient number of boats to transport them to the
opposite shore. In fact, they did not get on board till it
was near daylight, and then only about one-half of the
appointed number. But, although at the risk of sacrificing
himself and the few men he took with him, he hesitated
not to make the attempt of fulfilling his orders. The signal
for the general attack, however, was made before he could
reach the opposite bank, and he had then to land, and after
making his disposition with the few troops he had, to advance
and attack a corps of 2000 men, mostly covered by
works, some of which were extremely strong. He dashed
on, however, the advance of the enemy giving way before
him, till coming to their principal battery, he was obliged[379]
to detach a part of his force through the wood on his
left to turn their flank, while he with the remainder attacked
in front. This was conducted in such a soldierlike
manner, that, after a short conflict, the enemy gave way on
all sides, and retiring with precipitation, abandoned to the
victors batteries and works containing sixteen guns of
various calibre.


But, alas! all this success came too late; for the principal
attack had by this time ended in a total failure, attended
with the loss of three out of four generals, and with
nearly 2000 officers and men killed, wounded, and made
prisoners. Had Providence prospered the work of the
canal, and the troops could have been got across at the
appointed hour, and in sufficient numbers, there is every
reason to believe that the effect produced on the main
body by such a powerful diversion, would have tended to
the complete overthrow of the whole force before us; for
so insecure did General Jackson feel himself to be after our
establishment on the other bank of the river, and so alarmed
at its consequences, that, in the evening of the fatal day,
he would not consent to a cessation of hostilities, to enable
us to bring off our numerous wounded, till General Lambert
(who had now succeeded to the command) agreed as a
preliminary to withdraw the force under Colonel Thornton
from that bank; and this, although with great reluctance,
the General was compelled from motives of humanity and
other causes to consent to.


Before, however, a final answer was returned to General
Jackson, I believe it was suggested to our General, that,
with the possession of the other bank of the river, and
with the 7th and 43d nearly yet entire, and with the remainders
of the other regiments, our chances of success
had not yet entirely departed, particularly as Jackson evinced[380]
such eagerness for our withdrawing from that bank. General
Lambert in consequence used means to ascertain the
feelings of the troops on this proposition, but without their
knowledge of his having done so; but I regret to state,
they seemed utterly hopeless of ever being able to overcome
such formidable difficulties as had presented themselves,
particularly now that their means of overcoming
them had been so lamentably diminished. The idea was
consequently abandoned.


In this negotiation between the Generals, which continued
for some hours, Lieutenant-colonel Smith, our assistant
adjutant-general, had repeatedly to pass from army to
army with flags of truce, before the matter could be finally
arranged. This officer was most indefatigable in his exertions
on this unfortunate expedition, and to him the army
is greatly indebted for his zeal, ability, and gallantry, on
this and every other occasion where they could be of service
to his country, and by those in authority no doubt
they are duly appreciated.


Thus terminated the fatal attack on the lines of New
Orleans—a termination probably as disastrous in its consequences
as any of modern date—not even excepting that
of Buenos Ayres; for that, discreditable as it was to our
arms, did not cost the lives of such a number of fine soldiers;
and I fear we have not yet experienced the full consequences
of this failure, for it is certain that the Americans
are greatly elevated by it in their own estimation, and
it is not improbable they may be thence induced to maintain
a higher tone in all their future negotiations with this
country.


One instance may be to the point, as showing the feeling
of individuals of that country on this subject. A fellow in
the shape of an officer asked Colonel Smith, (I think it[381]
was,) "Well, what do you think of we Yankees? Don't
you think we could lick any of the troops of the continent
easily?"—"I don't know that," says our officer.—"Why,
I'll prove to you," says Jonathan, "that we have shown
ourselves the best troops in the world. Didn't the French
beat the troops of every other continental nation? Didn't
you beat the French in the Peninsula? and haven't we
beat you just now?" This of course was conclusive, and
no farther argument on that subject could be advanced.


The remainder of the troops retired in the evening to
their sorrowful bivouack, worn out and sadly dispirited.
All that night was of course devoted to bringing off the
unfortunate wounded; but several of those who fell far in
advance had been taken into the American lines, and, I have
every reason to believe, were treated with the greatest humanity.
Every effort was used, during the continuance of
the truce, to bring away the great numbers who lay wounded
in the different parts of the field; and on this as on all
other occasions, the sailors with their officers, evinced the
utmost solicitude to render assistance to the army; a great
number of them were employed all night on this distressing
duty. During the whole of that afternoon, both while
the negotiations were pending, and at other times, the
American officers were unceasing in their endeavours to induce
our soldiers to desert and join their army. Too many,
I regret to say, listened to their offers, and accepted them.
To some they promised promotion, to others money or
grants of land; in short, they were more like recruiting
sergeants, I understand, than the officers of a hostile army.
My battalion did not quit the field till after dark, and it is
from some of them I have this information. A group of
two sergeants and a private of ours were accosted by an
American officer of artillery with a request that they would[382]
enter the service of the United States; that the sergeants
should be promoted if they wished to serve, or that they
should have grants of land if they preferred a civil life; but
that, if they chose to enter the army, he would ensure
them the rank of officers. Our people listened to this harangue
for some time, and then began, I regret to say, to
give him some bad language; telling him, at the same time,
that they would rather be privates in the British army, than
officers among such a set of raggamuffins as the Americans,
and told him to sheer off or they would fire upon him.
This so exasperated the cowardly villain, that he went off
instantly into the line, they watching him all the while,
and pointing the gun, of which, it seems, he had charge, it
was fired, and knocked down the private, who was only
wounded, however, by the shot. Innumerable attempts of
this nature were made both now and all the time we remained
before their lines subsequently, but which attempts,
I am proud to say, as far as I have been able to learn, failed
in every instance in the men of my battalion.


Much about the same time, an American soldier came
within about 150 yards of our line, and began to plunder
such of the killed or wounded men as he thought possessed
of any thing valuable. He at length commenced upon a
poor wounded man belonging to my battalion, which being
perceived by a Corporal Scott of ours, he asked permission
from his captain to take a shot at him. This being granted,
(although a sort of truce had been established while the
negotiations were going on,) he took up his rifle, and taking
a steady aim, he fired, and tumbled the plundering villain
right over the body of the poor wounded man.


The loss of our five companies in this attack amounted to
seven officers and about —— men killed and wounded. Some
of the other regiments, the 93d in particular, had suffered[383]
dreadfully, having lost more than half their numbers. The
sad ceremony of burying such of the officers whose bodies
had been recovered, together with attention to the wounded,
occupied several days from this period, and sending the
wounded, who were able to bear removal, to the shipping,
kept great numbers of the remaining men continually employed;
and the attention of all was now turned towards
drawing off from this scene of our late disastrous attempt.


The General entered into a negotiation with Jackson
about being permitted to send a portion of our wounded
down the river in boats; for which permission some equivalent,
which I forget, was to be granted on our part, and
which, after considerable discussion, was eventually agreed
to. The sick, the wounded, the stores of every description,
were now despatched as fast as circumstances would allow;
but the effecting of this occupied not less than nine days,
during the whole of which time the enemy was incessant in
his attempts to harass and annoy us. All their heavy ordnance
was brought to bear on our bivouack; the sugar-house
our people occupied, and even the head-quarters, did
not escape; night and day they kept up a fire of shot and
shells upon these points; but the distance being considerable,
no very great mischief resulted from it, further than
the continual state of uneasiness and alarm in which it kept
the troops. On one occasion, however, a shell was thrown
into the lines of the 43d, who had since the attack occupied
a part of the general bivouack, and which, falling into a hut
occupied by Lieutenant Darcy of that regiment, while he
lay asleep, carried off both his legs as it fell. Poor fellow!
he would thus be awakened in a rough manner indeed.
I have since seen him in Dublin, the government having
kindly compensated him by giving him a company, and I
believe two pensions.[384]


Several shells were thrown into the head-quarters premises,
but providentially without injuring any one. One
fell in the yard while a party of troops was halted there
for a short while, and which falling on one of the men's
knapsacks, which he had put off, it carried it, with itself,
not less than six feet deep into the earth. It did not
explode. Some fell on the roof, which penetrated through
all the stories to the very ground. Every night also the
picquets were kept in a state of agitation and alarm by the
continual attacks of small parties of our skulking enemy,
and my battalion, as did the others also, lost considerable
numbers by this petty warfare. In short, the men's lives
began almost to be a burden to them.


There was another source of annoyance adopted on the
part of the Americans on this occasion, but which, affecting
only the mental, and not the bodily powers of our
soldiers, was not so much heeded. Every day almost
they assembled in large bodies on the parapet of their line,
with flags of various descriptions, some with "sailors'
rights" and numerous other devices, &c. painted on them,
using the most insulting gesticulations towards those who
were near enough to see them, a band playing Yankee
Doodle, and other national airs, all the while, and sometimes
ironically favouring us with Rule Britannia. Considerable
numbers of our men deserted about this time.
Every encumbrance being removed, however, by the 17th,
orders were issued for the march of the army on the
following evening soon after dark, leaving the picquets as a
rearguard, which were not to march till a short while before
daylight. In retiring, some of the wounded, who were
unable to bear removal, were necessarily left in the houses
where they had been collected; but there were not many
so left, and no doubt the enemy acted humanely by them.[385]
There were seven men of my battalion left, out of which
three rejoined us after the conclusion of peace; the other
four, I believe, were very badly wounded, and died in consequence.
It was also necessary to abandon such of the
guns as remained in the advanced batteries, because, both
from their weight and their being so near the enemy, they
could not be brought off without exposing our intentions of
retreating. Neither were these numerous, and most of
them only iron ship-guns, which are of no great value.


The movement commenced according to the preconcerted
plan, and being conducted with secrecy and regularity,
every soldier was brought off, over a country almost impassable,
and where, if followed and harassed by an enterprising
enemy, great numbers must have either fallen into their
hands or perished in the swamp. But I believe, had the
Americans even been aware of our intention, they would
have hesitated before they came into collision with our
highly exasperated army, and would scarcely have dared to
attack us in the open field: they had had enough of that
work on the 23d, to give them a specimen of what British
soldiers could do when met fairly, front to front.


The marsh, it may be necessary to mention, extended
from the lower skirt of the wood to the fishermen's huts at
the mouth of the creek. This creek we had sailed up on
our advance, but this could not possibly be the case at present,
both on account of our numbers being much too great
for the number of boats, and of the danger to which it
would have exposed the troops had they been attacked from
the shore, but principally on the former account; a sort of
road had therefore been constructed by our artificers, by cutting
down boughs from the wood, and laying them across
such places as required something on the surface on which
to tread. This road extended, as nigh as I can judge, about[386]
eight or ten miles, and in passing which numerous slips
were made into the sloughs on each side; but there being
plenty of assistance generally at hand, they helped each
other out: some men, I understand, were lost, however, in
this night-march through the swamp.


Having arrived at the huts before-mentioned, the whole
army set about forming such places of shelter as the desert
swamp afforded. There were certainly reeds in abundance,
but we wanted some sort of timbers for the support of the
outward covering. We, however, did the best we could; and
now every exertion was made by the navy to bring the
army off from this most uncomfortable place of abode, and
regiment after regiment were despatched as fast as the boats
and other small craft could go and return, the distance from
hence to the shipping being about seventy miles. While
we remained here, we who were fond of shooting found
plenty of wild-ducks on which to exercise our sporting
abilities; but, alas! we wanted shot, and were therefore
seldom able to bring home a couple for dinner.


A considerable number of slaves, belonging to the estates
where we had lately been stationed, followed us down thus
far, some of whom would not return, but were afterwards
sent on board of ship. These, male and female, often amused
us with their native dances, the men generally having a
number of rings or bells about them, which sounded as they
kept time to the tune. Some of their dances were, however,
far from decent, particularly on the part of the females,
which, it may be supposed, highly delighted some of
our young and thoughtless countrymen. Some were induced
to return to their masters: for those who came on
board of ship, I believe it was not till very lately that the
two governments came to terms as to the remuneration
which their owners claimed for them.


At length[387] the turn came for my battalion to go on board,
which we did on the 25th of January, when our whole five
companies were put on board the Dover, the ship that had
brought out two companies of the battalion, and which were
then not much fewer in number than the five at present
were; in fact, we had lost more than half. The whole army
did not get embarked till ——, when the 7th Fusileers came
on board. This regiment had been necessarily left alone at
the fishermen's huts till the boats could return, as before
stated, to bring them off, and yet even this single battalion
the enemy, with upwards of 10,000 men, dared not come
down and attack, although there were no works to protect
it in this exposed situation. Nothing could possibly demonstrate
more fully and clearly, that, notwithstanding the
repulse they had unfortunately given our troops, they
dreaded them in the open country; or else it must be attributed
to the prudent sagacity of their leader, who, having
gained a victory which he had previously scarce dared to
hope for, now wisely resolved not to risk the tarnishing
of his dear-bought laurels. It is not an easy matter to reconcile
this cautious and timid conduct with their furious
onset on the night of the 23d, and with their boasting
speeches after our failure on the 8th instant.


Now, while we remain at rest for a short while on board
of ship, let us take a retrospective glance at the late events.
It is certain we were singularly unfortunate. Providence,
which had smiled upon us in our late operations against the
most formidable army in the world, the French, here
taught us most painfully, that the victory is not always to
be gained by strength or courage. Indeed it was but a just
punishment for the contempt we entertained for our opponents,
and which unfortunate feeling, I believe, was almost
universal. I own I entertained it in a high degree; for I[388]
judged it next to a moral impossibility that an army of undisciplined
and unmanageable peasants, however numerous,
could for a moment withstand the attack of those troops
who had overthrown the victorious legions of Bonaparte.
But every soldier was a patriot, and they fought for their
country, and for a country of all others most suitable for
the operations of such troops; full of fastnesses, composed
of creeks, and necks, and woods, &c. of all which they did
not fail to take the utmost advantage. For this work of
theirs, constructed on a spot of ground said to have been
pointed out by General Moreau, completely shut us out from
all approach towards the town, and compensated for every
disadvantage under which they, as irregulars, laboured; for
it was not only a formidable barrier to our army, but it gave
them, by the protection it afforded their persons, all the
steadiness of troops inured to combat, and permitted them
the full exercise of that superior skill as marksmen for
which they are famed, and which exposure in the open
field would have deprived them of; for here they were
covered up to the chin, and suffered comparatively nothing
from all our fire.


But I fear we have something for which to blame ourselves
on this occasion. It is certain, I believe, that they
had been timely apprized of the destination of our expedition,
however secret we pretended to keep it ourselves, and
if rumour may in such a case be permitted to go for any
thing, it is said that information was conveyed from Jamaica
to New Orleans direct by a French ship, which left the former
for the latter place some time before our arrival. How
she came into the possession of that information, I cannot
justly tell. It is certain, however, that the Americans must
have had timely notice, or General Jackson could not have[389]
had the men from Kentucky and Tennessee to oppose us
the first night we landed.


I before hazarded an opinion, that had we pushed forward
on the 24th December, we should in all probability have
proved successful. I will say nothing as to the point of debarkation
being well or ill chosen, although many have said
we should have been more likely to succeed had we attacked
Fort ——, which, after carrying, would have allowed
us to land behind the town, instead of three leagues below
it. These things I am totally incapable of judging of, from
my ignorance of the country. I also before expressed my
opinion, that had we attacked on New Year's Day, when
our artillery produced such an effect on the appalled Americans,
we should have had a better chance of carrying their
works.


Another thing in which I venture to differ from the plan
adopted by our lamented commander, is, that I would have
employed the 7th and 43d to the post of honour, instead of
keeping them in reserve. They, it was well known, had
each established a reputation for being the finest regiments
in the service, and every reliance might have been placed
in their executing whatever task was assigned them, if executable
by human powers. Far different was it with those
who unfortunately led the attack, for except one of the regiments
of the attacking column, they had not any of them
been conspicuous as fighting regiments.


It was, I believe, a well known maxim of Bonaparte's,
always to put his best troops in front; if they were successful,
their example served to stimulate the others to copy
their example; if unsuccessful, their discipline and valour
never permitted them to become so totally disorganized as
to render the reverse irretrievable. The onset also of these
better troops, must produce a far different effect on the[390]
enemy than the hesitating and dispirited attack of inferior
ones. Had our troops on this occasion rushed forward to
the ditch in double quick time, or at least at a quick march,
I venture to affirm the work would have been carried with
the fourth part of the loss of what they suffered. Reason
itself must point out to any man, whether acquainted with
military matters or not, that to move slowly under a galling
fire is more trying and destructive to the troops so moving,
than to rush at once to the point aimed at; but much
more, to halt at the very point where every fire-arm can be
brought to bear upon them with the deadliest effect, is of
all other modes of proceeding the least likely to succeed.
They were thus exposed for hours to as destructive a fire
as ever was poured upon the heads of an attacking army,
while, had they pushed on at the rate I mention, a few minutes
would have sufficed to put them from under the fire
of the artillery at least, for when close to the ditch, it could
not be brought to bear upon them. Mark the mode in which
the three companies on the left effected the task assigned to
them. Before the enemy were aware almost that they were
to be attacked, these troops were in possession of the work
they were destined to storm; so quickly indeed that the defenders
of that work had not time to effect their retreat, and
were, as before noticed, made prisoners by the attacking
party. This not only secured their safety while left there
by themselves, but enabled them, in some degree, to effect
their retreat with less loss than they would otherwise have
been exposed to.


I have dwelt perhaps too long on this, but of all other
causes I deem this to have been the greatest of our sad
failure. It is lamentable, however, to be obliged to confess,
that ill conduct on the part of some parties, but of
one individual in particular, contributed in no small degree[391]
to our repulse on this melancholy occasion. For the rest,
nothing could exceed the determined courage and patient
endurance of hardship that the army in general evinced, and
certainly nothing could exceed the gallantry of our leaders.


It was now determined to make an attempt upon Mobile,
a town lying about thirty or forty leagues to the eastward
of New Orleans. Accordingly, the fleet got under weigh and
proceeded in the direction of the entrance into Mobile Bay,
which is protected on the west side by shoals and Isle Dauphine,
and on the east by a fort, built on a point of land
called Mobile Point, and mounting about twenty pieces of
heavy ordnance. Its name is Fort Boyer, I believe. Before
our arrival in this country, an attempt had been made on
this fort by one of our frigates, but which entirely failed,
owing to her taking the ground on the shoals before mentioned.
As she could not be got off, and as she lay under
the fire of the fort, her crew were compelled to abandon her,
but, I believe, not till they had first set her on fire; her wreck
lay here when we came. Until this fort was taken, no vessel of
any size could enter the bay, consequently it became necessary
to attack it in form. The brigade formerly General
Gibbs's, consisting of the 4th, 21st, and 44th, was therefore
landed a little behind the point, and proceeded without delay
to invest it; the remainder of the troops were landed on
Isle Dauphine.


We were put on shore on the 8th February, and instantly
commenced hutting ourselves by brigades. Some of the officers
had tents issued out to them; the acting Quartermaster
and myself had one between us. This island is almost covered
with pine-wood, but in other respects it is nearly a desert,
and without any inhabitants resident on it, save one family,
a Mr Rooney, formerly from Belfast I understand, but now
a naturalized American. He was married to a native of[392]
Louisiana, a lady of French extraction. He had been a midshipman
in the American navy, but had been dismissed for
some misconduct, it was said, and banished to this island.
He appeared to us to be no great things.


I omitted to mention that the 40th regiment had arrived
from England before we left the banks of the Mississippi, but
it being after the failure they were of no use, and were consequently
not permitted to land. They were afterwards
placed in our brigade, which now bivouacked near to the
point of the island facing the bay. When we arrived, the
island contained a considerable number of cattle, with pigs,
&c. belonging to Rooney, but which had been permitted, as
is customary in this country, to run wild in the woods, there
being no danger of their leaving the island. These, however,
soon fell a prey to such hungry fellows as we were,
who had been for some time past on rather short commons.
But they did not answer our expectations, being in taste,
what may appear singular, quite fishy. This was attributed
to their feeding so much on marine vegetables, there being
little other pasture for them on the island.


A hoax was played off upon great numbers of our young
hands respecting this fishiness. There was on one point
of the island a considerable oyster-bed, and it was generally
pretty near this that the cattle were found and shot, that
being the most distant from our bivouack. It was therefore
said the flesh of the cattle became of that peculiar flavour
from feeding upon oysters. Some, without reflecting, credited
this strange story, as the assertor generally said he had
seen the cattle opening the oysters with their tongues. This
oyster-bed, however, was a source of great luxury to us, for
it not only afforded us the means of rendering the salt junk
more palatable by having an excellent sauce to make it
go down, but it even afforded a most wholesome and delicious[393]
meal upon occasions by eating them raw. We also
made the best use of our time when not employed on military
affairs, in endeavouring to catch as many fish as we
could; and for this purpose, my mess purchased from one of
the poor Spanish fishermen before mentioned (and who, for
the information and kindness they had shown us, were obliged
to quit their habitations and follow us), an excellent
casting-net, with which the acting Quartermaster and myself
occupied ourselves from day to day, generally bringing
home a sufficient quantity of fish to serve our mess. I never
laboured more assiduously in any occupation than I did in
this, not only from a relish for such amusement, but because
we really wanted something to eke out our scanty
meals. We at length got a siene-net from one of the men-of-war,
with which we were not only able to supply ourselves
most abundantly, but always had a large quantity to
give away to the soldiers. Wild-fowl also were very plentiful
when we first entered the island; but from the number
killed, and the constant shooting at them, they soon became
scarce and difficult to get at.


Here also there were abundance of alligators, and on our
fishing and shooting excursions we frequently started them
from their lurking-places, which were generally among the
reeds by the side of an inland lake, or rather creek of the
sea. On these occasions we seldom saw them, for they always
endeavoured to avoid us; but wherever they ran along
the bottom of the water, they stirred up the mud so greatly
all the track they took, that we had no difficulty in tracing
them. I never remember to have seen a live one on these
occasions, but a dead one once afforded us considerable
amusement. One evening, on our return home from our
constant occupation, there being three or four of us of the
party, I was in front, and the acting Quartermaster and the[394]
others in the rear of me. On a sudden I was alarmed by the
cry of "Oh stop, here's an alligator!" and before I could look
round, a shot was fired apparently into the earth, close beside
their feet. I went back to see what was the matter,
and found indeed, as he had said, an alligator, but one which
I suppose had been dead for several months at least. It was
buried in the sand, and only a part of its body appeared; but
whether he imagined it might have placed itself in that situation
intentionally, with the view of enticing its prey within
its reach, or what other thought he had, I cannot tell, but,
to make assurance doubly sure, he fired his rifle right into
the body of the half-rotten alligator. He was long and often
severely roasted about this afterwards. A young one was
caught alive, however, by some of the 14th dragoons, and
brought home to England, and afterwards, I understand,
presented to the British Museum. All this while the siege
of the fort was going forward, but as we had nothing to
do with it, we had plenty of time, not only to hunt for
extra prog, but to amuse ourselves in any other manner we
pleased.


The army, about this time, was inspected by our Chief,
General Lambert, by battalions. My kind late commanding-officer,
Captain Travers, who was severely wounded at the
attack on the 8th, had rejoined by this time, although still
very lame. During the inspection, the General said to him,
"Travers, I am sorry to hear that your sergeant-major ran
away on the night of the 23d, during the attack."—"That
is impossible, General," said Travers, "for he fought as
bravely as any man could possibly do, and was carried off
the field near the end of the fight, severely wounded.
But I have a guess what has given rise to this report. A
sergeant of ours left his battalion, I believe, either during
or after the fight, and having taken up his quarters near one[395]
of the houses where the wounded were carried, the surgeon
pressed him to remain with him as hospital-sergeant. I
made efforts to have him sent to his battalion, but could not
get it done. This must have been the cause of such a story
having got abroad."—"Ah," says the General, "I am sorry
that the poor sergeant-major should have lain under a stigma,
of which he was altogether undeserving; and, now
since we have done him an involuntary injustice, and he is
a deserving man, we must try what amends we can make
him for it." He accordingly recommended him for an ensigncy
in one of the West India regiments; and before that
day twelvemonth, he had risen to the rank of lieutenant.
Nothing could be finer than the feeling of Sir John Lambert
on this occasion; indeed, he has always shown himself
a most excellent upright man, and a gallant officer.


About this time, a Russian vessel was detained going up
to New Orleans with a cargo of wine from Bordeaux; but
although she would, I doubt not, have been a legal capture,
for breaking the blockade, the master was permitted to dispose
of his cargo to our army, and an excellent thing he
made of it, for the wine, which he must have purchased for
about one shilling or one and sixpence a bottle, he charged
us in general about four shillings for; we were glad, however,
to get it at any price, and a most seasonable supply
it was indeed. On one of our shooting excursions, an officer
of ours fell in with a sow and two or three pigs, in
the wood; he instantly fired at one of the pigs and killed
it; but when going to pick it up, the sow set upon him
with such fury, that he was glad to abandon his prize, and
retreat with precipitation.


When the army landed near New Orleans, the 14th light
dragoons had taken their saddles and other horse equipments
with them, in hopes of being able to get mounted in the[396]
country; and which, being bulky, required a good large
boat to bring off again. They were therefore put on board a
considerable-sized one, with an officer of the regiment and a
guard to protect them. On their way down towards the shipping,
night overtook them before they could reach their
destination, on which they pushed towards the shore, whether
of an island or the mainland, I cannot say, in hopes
of being more secure for the night; they consequently put
on a sentry, and all lay down in the boat to sleep. Soon
afterwards, however, a boat came rowing rapidly alongside,
and before the sentry could discover who or what they
were, they boarded, and instantly made the party all prisoners.
The officer, I believe, when called on to deliver up his
sword, was so annoyed at being trapped in such a manner,
that he threw it into the lake, as far as he could fling it.
The American officer who captured them was a lieutenant
in their navy, and went by the name of Commodore Shiel
(for every fellow is a commodore who commands even a
few boats). He was so elated by his success on this occasion,
and, I believe, by having taken another boat with
stores, that he boasted to his prisoners, that he would take
even Admiral Cochrane himself yet, before he left the
country.


While we remained on Isle Dauphine, a commissary,
with a sergeant and party of our men, were sent on shore,
on the mainland, to shoot bullocks for the supply of the
army. They had landed, and the commissary, with the sergeant
and I think two men, went off into the neighbouring
wood, leaving the two or three other men at the landing-place
to protect the boat. Here again Mr Shiel made
his appearance, quite suddenly and unexpectedly, having
come round a jutting point before the men were aware of
his presence; he instantly, of course, made them prisoners,[397]
and, taking their arms from them, he put them on board
their own boat, then, sending a part of his crew on board
to manage it, despatched it for the American harbour. He
now with a few more of his people went in search of the
commissary and his party, whom he soon found; and they
seeing resistance would be vain, when their own boat was
departed, were compelled at once to surrender. He instantly
put them into his own boat; and taking the commissary
into the after-sheets alongside of himself, the sergeant and
the other men were put forward to the head of the boat.
Whether any preconcerted scheme and signal had been
agreed upon between the commissary and the sergeant, I do
not know, but an opportunity soon after offering, the commissary
gave the sergeant the wink, and instantly seizing
Mr Shiel by the thighs, pitched him right overboard in an
instant; the sergeant, at the same moment, seizing the
stoutest of Shiel's men, and serving him in a like manner.
The others being attacked by the remaining two men, at
once surrendered, and, I believe, suffered themselves to be
bound; and our people, having now resumed their arms
and become masters of the boat, admitted Mr Shiel, who, I
fancy, had clung to the boat to prevent his drowning, to
come once more on board. What became of the other man
who was thrown over, I know not; whether he swam on
shore, or was drowned, or was afterwards taken into the
boat, I cannot tell; but the result was, that the great, the
boasting Commodore Shiel, was brought to the island a
prisoner, where he landed like a drowned rat, and quite
chopfallen.


The commissary, who was a fine, stout, and gallant young
fellow, spoke highly in praise of Tom Fukes, our sergeant,
for his bravery and good management on the occasion.


At length the works being all completed for battering[398]
the fort, Colonel Smith was sent in with a flag of truce to
demand its surrender. The commandant was quite undecided
how to act, and asked the Colonel what he, as a man of
honour, would advise him to do. "Why," says the Colonel,
"do you not see that our guns are now overlooking your
whole work, and that we could, in a very short time, knock
it down about your ears? I have no hesitation in telling
you, that the rules of war will fully justify you in surrendering
to such a superior force, and when the siege has
advanced to such a point as it actually is." His arguments,
together with the truth of his statements, at length overcame
the courage and determination of Jonathan, and he
instantly agreed to surrender, the garrison, afterwards becoming
prisoners of war, marching out and laying down
their arms on the glacis.


Thus, on the 12th February, this important fortification
fell into our hands, together with 400 men of the 2d regiment
of the United States, and either one or two American
colours. This obstacle removed, every exertion was now
made to advance up the lake to the attack of Mobile; but
on the 14th, a vessel arrived with the unexpected, but
cheering information, that peace had been concluded at
Ghent between the two nations, and that it only required
the ratification of Mr Maddison, the United States' president.
Of course, all further operations of a warlike nature
were suspended for the present, till it was known whether
the treaty would be ratified or not. This ship also brought
out the notification of our two Generals, Lambert and
Keane, being appointed Knights of the Bath. Some of our
Colonels also were included in the list, viz. Blakeny of the
the 7th, and Dickson of the royal artillery.


And now nothing was thought of but amusement, and
making ourselves as comfortable as possible. But we began[399]
to get very short of provisions. Our people were therefore
obliged to send to the Havannah, where they procured the
strongest sort of beef I ever saw. It was not salted; but after
the cattle had been killed, all the thin belly part had been
cut round the whole bullock, in narrow stripes, of about
two inches in width; this being laid, or hung up in the
sun, which is extremely powerful in that country, it was
dried without having the least offensive taste or smell, farther
than a little rancidity, which was not by any means
unpleasant; but when brought from on board, it had much
more the appearance of coils of ropes (for it was coiled up
in a similar manner) than provision for the use of man. An
aide-de-camp of General Lambert's, then Lieutenant, but
now Major D'Este, son of his Royal Highness the Duke
of Sussex by Lady Augusta Murray, used frequently to
join the shooting party of our acting quartermaster and
myself; and, on one occasion, having obtained a canoe, a
trip to the mainland was projected, for the purpose of
shooting; accordingly we took two or three men with us,
and started from the northernmost point of the island, that
being the nearest to the main, which we saw before us, and
not more than five or six miles distant. It was considered
the best mode of proceeding for us all to get into the boat,
except one man, who was a famous wader, (having often accompanied
us in our expeditions around the island,) and who
was to wade as far out into the sea as he could, dragging
the canoe after him. This he could do very easily, for she
was quite light, and the water was exceeding shallow for a
great distance into the sea. He continued towing us in this
manner for about half a mile, when, being fairly up to his
chin, he and we thought it was high time for him to come
on board; but, in doing this, he gave her such a cant as
turned her right over, and pitched us all into the water. I[400]
luckily had my eye upon the man when he sprung to get
into the canoe, and suspecting that she could not bear so
rough a pull, was ready; and accordingly, when I saw her
going, leaped out, without being plunged overhead, as all
the others were. But all our rifles, &c. were pitched out,
and of course sunk to the bottom, to which we were obliged
to dive before we could get them up. This accident put a
stop to our excursion, and we waded out again, looking
extremely foolish. Nevertheless we ought to have been
truly thankful to Providence that it occurred before we got
out of our depth; for, with such a frail bark, it is more
than probable some accident would have happened before
our return, had not this prevented our further progress.


Innumerable were our adventures of this nature, for the
water was delightfully warm, and having no military occupation
at the time, we could not find any better amusement.
A party, indeed, suggested the getting up of theatricals,
which being approved on all hands, workmen were instantly
set about erecting the theatre-royal, Isle Dauphine. This,
of course, with the getting off of parts, occupied the managers
and the other performers for some time; but at length
all being ready, most excellent entertainments took place,
following each other in quick succession. At some of these
parties, American officers, who now often paid us visits,
were highly entertained, and paid us high compliments, not
only as to the splendour and magnificence of our theatrical
representations, but to our ingenuity as displayed in hut-building,
which, they said, even surpassed the architectural
abilities of the Indians in that branch of the art,—a high
compliment indeed!


[401]


CHAPTER XX.


Ratification of the Treaty of Peace—Exchange of Prisoners—Our Troops
embark for England—When off the coast of Ireland, receive intelligence
of Bonaparte's escape from Elba—The Author and his Battalion
reach the Downs, and proceed to Thorncliffe—Embark for
France—Arrive at Paris, and occupy the Champs Elysées—Review
of the Russian Guards—Russian Discipline—British Troops reviewed—Accident
to Prince Blucher—Amusements in Paris—The Allied
Forces, except the Army of Occupation, leave Paris—The Author's
Battalion embark for England—Reach Dover, and return to Thorncliffe—He
obtains leave of absence, and visits his Family—His Battalion
ordered to Ireland—Sets out to join it, accompanied by his Wife,
who dies three days after they reach Dublin—His Battalion reduced—Joins
the first Battalion at Gosport, which is ordered to Scotland—Arrive
at Leith, and march to Glasgow—The Author returns home
in ill health—His Father dies—Joins his Battalion again—Winters
at home—His Battalion ordered to Ireland—Joins it at Belfast—They
occupy different stations during the Whiteboy Insurrection—Six
companies of his Battalion ordered to Nova Scotia, but the Author
remains with the other four companies—He is shortly ordered to
proceed to Nova Scotia—His health declines—Returns home in consequence,
takes advantage of Lord Palmerston's Bill, and retires on
full pay.


On the 5th March, the ratification of the treaty of peace,
by Mr Maddison, arrived; and now all our thoughts were
turned towards our dear native country. On the 15th also,
all our poor fellows, who had been made prisoners by the
Americans, joined us at this island, an exchange in consequence
of peace having of course taken place. Many of[402]
these were strange-looking figures when they came among
us, most of them having been stripped of great part of their
uniforms, their caps particularly, and wearing mocassins, a
sort of Indian sandals, instead of shoes or boots, and being
so sunburnt as to be scarcely recognisable.


Major Mitchell told us that General Jackson had treated
him exceeding harshly, because he did not choose to give
the General such information respecting our numbers, &c.
as he wished. He also said he met with great insolence on
his way up to Natchez, where the prisoners were kept, from
the different parties of Kentucky men, and others, whom
he met on their way down "to take a shoot," as they
termed it, "at his countrymen." He met many thousands
in this manner, so that 10 or 12,000 is the very lowest
number that Jackson could have had for the defence of his
lines.


I do not remember that we ever had Divine service performed
during the period of this expedition except once or
twice, and that about this time. Indeed the activity required
of the army at all times, during the continuance of
hostilities, almost necessarily precluded it. At this time I
remember perfectly the preacher's text was, "My son, give
me thy heart." Alas! how few of the hearts of his hearers
were given at that time to Him who only had a right to
demand them! I confess with shame and sorrow, that
almost any trifle, however unworthy, possessed a greater
interest in my heart than He who had formed it, and who
alone is worthy of supreme regard.—The good Lord pardon
this neglect, for Christ's sake!


The regiments now began to go on board the different
ships, as fast as arrangements could be made to receive
them; and when on board, they sailed at once without
waiting for the others, there being now no danger of falling[403]
in with an enemy. The weather now began to grow exceedingly
warm, which brought out alligators and snakes
in abundance. The latter were extremely annoying, for they
sometimes got into our very tents, and one on one occasion
so frightened a captain of ours (who was not afraid of
man) as to make him sprawl up the tent-pole to get out of
its reach, roaring out at the same time most lustily for help.
It was killed and put into a bottle of spirits, and I believe
he brought it home. It was an exceeding small one, but
with the most beautiful crimson, or rather pink-coloured
wavy streak running down its back imaginable. We were
told it was one of the most venomous of all the American
reptiles, save probably the rattlesnake.


The thunder and lightning also became very frequent,
and the former, I think, the most awfully grand I ever
heard. It appeared to roll along just on the very tops of
the pine-trees, many of which indeed were scathed to the
very roots by the latter.


On the 31st March our turn came to go on board, and
we were rejoiced to find that the Dover, our old friend was
to be our principal ship, the remainder of the men beyond
what she could hold being sent on board the Norfolk transport.
While we were preparing for sea, I took a boat and
a party with a siene, and went on shore on a sandy point
of the island, where I had not been before, and in a short
time caught a fine load of fish, mostly grey mullet, with
which we returned on board, greatly to the satisfaction of
all those who shared in them. Every thing being now
ready, we weighed and bid adieu to America on the 4th
April, shaping our course for the Havannah, where our
captain intended to call for various purposes, but principally
to replenish his stock, which had begun to get exceedingly
low.


On our passage[404] thither we encountered a heavy gale,
which detained us longer than we had calculated for our
voyage. We did not reach that place till the 19th. Here
we found ourselves once more in Espana, every thing here
being exactly like what you meet with in the mother
country,—the same stink of oil, garlic, and dried fish.
Speaking of the latter, which is called by them Bacalao, an
officer of ours who kept a journal, when describing this
place, says, "The natives catch a great quantity of fish on
the coast, called Bacalao." Unfortunately it is not called
Bacalao till after it is dried, but Piscado. This brought, as
it might be expected, lots of laughter upon his head.


I need not describe the Havannah, because any one who
has a Gazetteer, may there read an account of it; and
which, though perhaps not altogether a correct one, will be
sufficient to give him an idea of what it is; suffice it to say,
it is an exceeding strong place, and would not, I apprehend,
be so easily taken, if the inhabitants are true to their country,
as it was in the year 1762. The capture of it at the
time above stated, made the place extremely interesting to
me, for one of my earliest and best friends served as a lieutenant
in the 56th grenadiers at the taking of it; and often
have I heard him expatiate, with great delight and animation,
on the scenes he witnessed, and the dangers he encountered,
in this most arduous undertaking. He is now, poor
man, no more, having died only very lately, and I sincerely
trust and hope he is in peace. The Moro and the Punta,
and all the other immense fortifications, attracted my particular
regard, on this old gentleman's account; but so extremely
jealous were the Spaniards, that they would not
permit even us, their late faithful helpers and friends, to
view the works. We visited the theatre, which is a fine
building, but heavy and badly lighted, but apparently well[405]
supplied with performers. The piece on this occasion was
Anthony and Cleopatra. There were also some equestrian
performers here from the United States. They had built a
fine circus, at about half a mile's distance from the city, to
which every one of course repaired. All the world was
there; even little Connolly, whom I had known at Cadiz as
a major in the Spanish service, was here in the command
of a regiment, and had attained the rank of full Colonel.
He did not seem over anxious to recognise any of his former
acquaintances, nor even to let it be known that he was so
much of a Briton as to have acquaintance with any people
of that country; in short, he wished to be considered a complete
Spaniard. I doubt not he is now a rank apostolical.
We paid a visit also to old Woodville, the famous cigar-maker.
He was an expatriated Englishman, from Portsmouth
I believe, obliged to flee his country on account of
some smuggling transaction, and, in doing this, he had
changed his name. We found the old man ill in bed, but
able to sit up and speak with us. He wore an immense
long white beard, reaching down nearly to the bed as he
sat up. Yet this old man had a young black wife, and a
whole fry of young mulattoes running about the house like
as many little pigs. He was very kind, but apparently not
over well to do. We bought each a considerable quantity of
his famed cigars, for which we paid him, I think, four dollars
a thousand—more, I apprehend, than he usually gets
from the Spaniards for them.


Having laid in such sea stock as we could conveniently
procure, and having stored ourselves well with the delicious
preserves of this country, and withal bought a fine turtle,
weighing about two cwt., on the 24th we set sail for old
and happy England, glad once more to set our faces homeward.


We had a quickish[406] run through the Gulf of Florida, or,
as it is more properly called, the Bahama Channel, and,
keeping to the northward of Bermuda, shaped our course
so that we passed a little to the south of the Great Newfoundland
Bank. From hence the wind was roughish
generally, but quite fair, so that we frequently ran at the
rate of 200 miles in the twenty-four hours, the transport
being an excellent sailer.


Nothing particular occurred till we were within a few
days' sail of Ireland, when we fell in with an American who
had just left England. From him we learned the totally
unlooked-for information, that Bonaparte had made his
escape from Elba, and had returned to France, and that the
whole continent was once more involved in war. Nothing
could exceed the change which this unexpected news produced
among our people. Some who were desponding at
the gloomy prospect of half-pay, revived in a moment, and
again set honour, glory, and promotion, once more before
the eyes of their imagination. Indeed, I think no one
seemed sorry at the change; but some probably would have
preferred a short repose, before they were called upon again
to leave that home which they had painted to themselves
so comfortable and happy.


On the —— we arrived at Plymouth, where the good
folks received us with great cordiality; but the news from
Flanders now engrossed all attention, and our unfortunate
business seemed forgotten. It was as well perhaps that it
was so, for we had no victory to boast; and with the world
it is but too often the case, that a want of good fortune is
almost tantamount to a want of good conduct. We were
ordered on to Portsmouth, which we reached in two days;
and from thence proceeded still onwards to the Downs.
Our arrival was telegraphed to London, from whence, after[407]
some communication by post also with the Commander-in-Chief,
we were ordered to disembark, which we did on the
2d June. The cause of this being ordered, and of our not
proceeding direct to Flanders, was, that we were extremely
ill off for equipment, nearly one-fourth of our men being
without arms or appointments, all those who had been prisoners,
and many of those who had been severely wounded,
having been deprived of them. In some respects the order
for our landing was unfortunate, as far as regards the
honours of that great and crowning victory of Waterloo,
in which we consequently had no share; and, on the other
hand, as far as regards my own public accounts, at least it
was fortunate for me, for I was thus enabled to have them
prepared, and forwarded to the War Office, and finally settled
without loss of time, which I could not have done had
we left England again immediately.


We were ordered from Deal to Thorncliffe, our old quarters,
where we found three companies of my battalion, and
five or six of the other two. All our old friends were of
course glad to see us; and, under such circumstances, the
meeting of those between whom friendship has long subsisted,
is in a great measure a compensation for the toil and
sufferings of a soldier's life. We continued at Thorncliffe
for some time, but busily preparing once more to take the
field; and had Bonaparte not been so precipitate in his
movements, we might have shared in the glory of his final
overthrow.


I was compelled to go to London while we remained
here, for the purpose of settling a variety of accounts, &c.,
and while there was persuaded to appear before the Medical
Board, for the purpose of obtaining a certificate as to the
nature of my wound, on which to found a claim for a year's
pay, the amount at this time given to all whom that Board[408]
recommended as fit subjects for this bounty. I had omitted
doing so when in London before, because I thought no
one had any claim for it, except such as had suffered most
materially in health in consequence of their wounds. However,
at the suggestion of my friends I did appear before the
Board, who considered my wound of such severity as to
entitle me to that bounty; and I accordingly soon after
received the sum of L.118, 12s. 6d., the amount of one
year's pay. I have reason to be thankful both to the government
and to my friends for this unlooked-for augmentation
of my funds, and trust I did not make an ill use
of it.


But at length the news of the memorable battle of Waterloo
arrived, and we had no share in it. I know not
whether I shall be believed, but I think there were few of
my companions in the late expedition but felt somewhat
disappointed, and rather vexed, that this decisive action
should have taken place so early, and almost wished that
the government had despatched us even as we were on our
first arrival in England; for really, as it turned out, it was
most unfortunate to those of my friends, who had been
undergoing probably as severe and hazardous a service as
any our army had lately been engaged in, and that all that
should be looked upon as almost worse than nothing, while
some young fellows, who had never before seen an enemy,
should be covered with the honours and distinctions which
were so amply lavished on them, merely because they had
the good fortune to share in that brilliant and decisive victory.
But regret is vain and unprofitable, and a soldier
must make up his mind to meet with bad as well as good
fortune, or he will only render his life the more miserable.


On the 10th of July we embarked at Dover, and on the[409]
13th landed at Ostend; but we were entering only on a
barren service, the honours having been all acquired previous
to our arrival. We moved forward by the way of
Bruges, Ghent, Oudenarde, and Mons, and then through
Bavay and Chatelet to Peronne; from Peronne through
Roye, Pont Lant, Maxence, and Louvre, to Paris. Here
we were posted to the brigade in which our other two
companies were stationed, and occupied the Champs Elysées
as our camp. Certainly the sights we witnessed in
this far-famed capital amply repaid us for our trip to France,
however devoid of military glory that might be.


It will not be expected that I should enter into a detail
of all the lions which this splendid city contains, and which
have attracted the curiosity of nearly half the gentry of this
country. Suffice it to say, we saw the palaces of the
Tuilleries, St Cloud, Luxemburg, and Versailles, with
all the splendour they contain—the churches of Notre
Dame and the Pantheon—the Hospital of Invalids—the
Garden of Plants—the Hotel de Ville—the Palais Royal,
and the far-famed Louvre. In this latter, a person might
at that time spend a twelvemonth, without exhausting the
curiosities and beauties it contained; but, during our stay
here, we witnessed its divestment of nearly all its most
valued specimens of art, to the great regret, grief, and annoyance
of those who had ransacked almost all nations to
decorate this splendid gallery. This was undertaken and
executed by our illustrious Chief, in the name and on the
behalf of this our generous nation. He dealt out with a
just and impartial hand, to all who had claims upon this
magnificent collection, the specimens of art which had
formerly adorned their national churches and palaces, without
one painting or one statue of the meanest description
being reserved for himself, who had been mainly instrumental[410]
in this restoration, or for the nation which he represented.


We saw also the triumphal arch of Bonaparte, in the
Place de Carousel, stripped of its four matchless Venetian
horses. The stately pillar in the Place Vendome was also
deprived of the effigy of him who erected it. In short,
every thing was done by the Bourbons at this period, sanctioned
by the Allies, to obliterate even the very remembrance
of such a character as Bonaparte. We visited also
the splendid manufactory of china at Sevres—the National
Museum of Antiquities—the Royal Library, and the Theatre
Français, to witness Talma's performance of Hamlet, with
various other places of curiosity, too tedious to notice here;
and, finally, the catacombs, the repository of millions of
human bones.


Here it is where man is taught to remember what he is—a
worm—a shadow that departeth—even a vapour, which
appeareth for a moment, and then passeth away for ever.
Oh, how does all human greatness dwindle into nothing,
while you stand viewing these silent memorials of our
frailty! The myriads of generations that have passed away,
multitudes of whose bones are collected in this vast, dark
cavern! Now how noiseless those who perhaps once
shook the world with alarms! I love to meditate on this
sad scene, which, if duly considered, teaches the soundest
wisdom. How apt are we to be allured by the gay fantastic
follies of an hour, to forget that we must soon, so
very soon, take up our abode in the dark and silent tomb!
Oh! to be ready, when called upon, to descend into the
house appointed for all living! But though these meditations
may be pleasing to myself, they may not be so to my
reader. I will therefore leave this dark, deep, and capacious
charnel-house, and once more ascend with him to the
light of the sun.


We had not[411] remained long in Paris, till there was a
grand review of the Emperor of Russia's Guards, and which
took place in the Place of Louis XV., immediately in
front of the Tuilleries. Nothing could exceed the uniformity
and the steadiness of these Northern warriors.
There were troops of all armies amongst them; the Cossacks,
the hussars, the artillery, the grenadiers, and the
regular infantry, all vied with each other in their endeavours
to please their beloved Czar. Here were all the
great ones of the earth assembled to witness this imposing
spectacle; exhibited, no doubt, as much as any thing, for
the purpose of showing the French the power of those who
now held them in subjection. But that arbitrary power
which is so intolerable to the ideas of an Englishman, was
here exhibited in all its native deformity. A Colonel
of one of the regiments, whose movements did not please
the Emperor, was, without the least ceremony, taken from
the head of his regiment, and rammed into a common
guard-house, where an English officer was on duty. He
hesitated to receive him, until assured that such was the
custom in the Russian service, and that it was the Emperor's
orders.


My battalion was soon after removed from the brigade
it was originally posted to, and joined another, stationed on
Montmartre. Here the adjutant and myself were quartered
on a proprietor of the pits out of which the famous
plaster of Paris is dug. These pits are situated on the side
of this hill, facing the city. From hence I often took a fishing,
or a shooting, or a coursing excursion. The first was
generally confined to the Canal del Ourq, in which I found
pike, perch, and tench. I never was very successful, however,
both from the vast numbers of fishermen which frequented
this water, and from the scarcity of fish. Partridges[412]
and hares were abundant in the neighbourhood of Paris, but
we had not a good dog among us. We obtained leave from
the Duke of Orleans to shoot in one of the royal preserves,
the Forest of Bondy. In our coursing expeditions we were
more successful, sometimes bringing in to the amount of
seven hares in a day. This would be looked upon almost as
poaching in England, but in France it was otherwise; they
know nothing of coursing there; and nothing could exceed
the beautiful country round Paris for that sport; it was a
dead level generally, without a hedge, sometimes for miles
together, and a rich corn country, so that hares abounded.
Towards autumn, we had two or three reviews of the British
troops; these were splendid exhibitions of the tactics
of our great General. But though the army had the appearance
of a fighting army, I do not think it equalled the Russians
in point of regularity and uniformity; with them the
whole army is nearly dressed alike, especially the infantry;
while the variety of our facings, and other distinctions of
regiments, detracts greatly from the appearance of the army
as a whole. Here also the crowned heads of Europe assembled
in this city, paid us the compliment of their presence,
the Emperor Alexander inspecting most minutely every
regiment and division as it passed him. The Austrians and
the Prussians also occasionally showed themselves in bodies,
but I do not remember to have seen a general review of
either of these armies; indeed neither of them had a large
force in or near Paris, they being mostly at some distance
from the capital, I believe. But we were often delighted
with the Austrian Emperor's band, in which there were no
less, I believe, than seventy performers, and all these the
very first-rate musicians. We also had horse-races occasionally,
that is, among the English officers; at one of which I
witnessed poor old Blucher receive a hurt, from which he[413]
never recovered. Near the winning-post, the course was
roped in, which the brave old fellow, as he came galloping
down, all life, from the city, did not perceive, and coming
up against them with great force, he was thrown from his
horse, and unfortunately broke his arm. He lingered some
time afterwards, but never got well of it, till death released
him. We had two English boxers over there also, to amuse
the people; they only sparred of course, with gloves on; and
I rather think they realized a good deal of money by these
exhibitions. Balloons also were set up from the gardens of
Tivoli, with various other sources of amusement, so that to
recount them all would only tire out my reader; suffice it
to say, that in Paris, with plenty of money, and with an inclination
to enter into all the gaieties of the place, no city
on earth, I believe, is so fruitful of the means of pleasure
and dissipation; but they leave a sting behind, which far
outweighs these momentary gratifications; and if I was
asked which I considered the most sinful city in the world,
I would without hesitation say Paris.


Towards December arrangements were made for the
army leaving Paris, and going into cantonments on the
north-eastern frontier; but the remainder of the troops
above the number required for the army of occupation were
ordered home to England. My battalion was among the
latter number; and, accordingly, we left the French capital
on the 3d December, and marched out to St Denis, that
famous burying-place of French royalty. From thence we
passed near Beaumont, through Noailles to Beauvais, thence
through some small villages, where we halted for the night,
and on the 11th reached Abbeville.


On the 14th we quartered in Montreuil-sur-Mer, and on
the 20th reached Calais, where we embarked for Dover.[414]
We landed at the latter place on the 22d, and the next
morning proceeded to our old quarter Thorncliffe.


All warlike proceedings having now terminated, I made
application for, and obtained, leave of absence to revisit my
wife and my family, whom I had not seen for four years. I
need not describe my feelings on once more beholding those
I loved, and the reader will best appreciate them by placing
himself in my situation. But I had not long enjoyed this
pleasure till I heard that my battalion had been ordered to
Ireland. I confess I did not much relish the information.
When my leave expired I started for that country, and endeavoured
to procure a passage across to Dublin; first from
Maryport, in Cumberland, but without success. I then tried
Workington, next Whitehaven, but was equally unable to
get off from either of these. I then moved on to Liverpool,
and took my place in one of the packets; but, after
waiting several days, I was obliged to start for Holyhead,
the only place from whence I was able to proceed to Ireland.
All this disappointment and fatigue, together with some
sad punches which a large woman in the coach had given
my wife with her masculine elbows, so preyed upon her
health and spirits, that three days after our arrival in Dublin
she breathed her last. She had been in delicate health
for a number of years, of an affection in the chest, but she
complained mostly of this woman's elbows, which she said
had injured her much. It will easily be conceived how
afflictive such a dispensation must have been to him who
had to bear it. But God does all things well; and even in
the midst of our severest chastisements, we should view
Him as a kind and tender parent, who only chastens us for
our good, and who does not willingly afflict the children of
men. A part of the battalion had arrived in Dublin when
the melancholy event took place, almost all the officers of[415]
which favoured me by their presence at the funeral. I had
her buried in St Mary's churchyard, Mary being her own
name.


We remained in Dublin for twenty-seven months—a
longer period than any other regiment I believe; and here
I think I may truly say I acquired the first knowledge of
the only way of salvation; for although born and reared a
Christian, and having, as the reader may recollect, been
brought sensibly to the knowledge of myself as a condemned
sinner, I had as yet no distinct knowledge or apprehension
of the nature of the Christian faith; and I think I may,
under the blessing of God, attribute my earnest search
after a sure foundation of hope to the reading of Doddridge's
"Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul," and to the
truly evangelical sermons I heard from the many eminent
preachers which fill the pulpits of this capital, but more
particularly to the Rev. Mr Matthias, chaplain to the Bethesda
Institution. My narrative will contain nothing interesting
from this period to the general reader. I will,
therefore, generalize as much as possible. From Dublin we
marched to Birr, in the King's County; and while here, it
was determined upon by government to reduce the battalion
to which I belonged, which was carried into effect in January
1819; but as I was then the senior quartermaster of
the regiment, I was ordered to join the 1st battalion of the
corps at Gosport, which I did in February. Here we remained
till September, when the Radical war called us to
the north.


We embarked on board the Liffy frigate and —— corvette,
in about three or four hours' notice, on the 18th
of that month, and landed at Leith on the 28th, whence we
marched to Glasgow, the seat of this unhappy disturbance.
I need not describe the Radical war, it being well known.[416]
Here my health began to be much impaired. The affection
of my chest, occasioned by the rupturing of the bloodvessel
at Cadiz, produced most distressing effects upon my general
health. I consequently obtained leave, and returned home
for a few months.


During my stay at home my dear father departed this
life; and I had thus the melancholy satisfaction of witnessing
the last sad scene, and of paying the last duties of a
child to a beloved parent. He was not, as I mentioned at
the beginning of my narrative, a religious man when I left
home; but towards the close of his life I have every reason
to believe he was a sincere penitent, and a believer in Him
through whom alone our sins can be forgiven; and I have
a well-grounded hope that he is now enjoying eternal felicity
in heaven, whither I hope myself to come through Him
that loved me, and washed me from my sins in his own
blood, and to whom be praise and glory for ever. Amen.


I joined again in the spring, and remained there all that
summer, during which I had many pleasant fishing excursions
into the country. I visited the falls of the Clyde,
and proceeded to some a considerable distance higher up,
where another officer and myself caught abundance of trout.
I also took a trip into the Highlands of Argyleshire, where I
had excellent sport. But at the approach of winter I was
again obliged to leave Glasgow, the damp atmosphere of
which, together with the smoke of the numerous steam-engines
employed in its manufactories, fairly drove me out.
I again went home for the winter; but during this period
this battalion also got an order to embark for Ireland, and
I joined them in Belfast in January 1821. From hence we
marched in the spring to Armagh, where I had the high
privilege of becoming acquainted with a sincere and pious[417]
clergyman, one of the reading vicars of the cathedral; and
I trust I benefited by this favourable opportunity. From
Armagh we marched to Naas, the country to the south having
become much disturbed by the Whiteboys, as they
termed themselves. We did not remain long at Naas, but
were pushed on to Kilkenny, where I first became acquainted
with that truly Christian minister, the Rev. Peter Roe,
a gentleman well known in the religious world. I am
proud and happy that I ever had the privilege of knowing
him. May God prosper his pious and unceasing endeavours
to benefit the souls of his fellow-creatures!


We did not remain long, however, at Kilkenny, but moved
on to Fermoy, and thence to Newcastle, in the county of
Limerick, the cradle of the Whiteboy insurrection. Here
we were for a time actually shut up as in a besieged town;
and no individual belonging to the army durst attempt to
move out without a sufficient number being together, to
deter the misguided peasantry from attacking us. Innumerable
were the murders that were committed about this
neighbourhood at this time; and one's blood runs chill to
think that these miscreants, when taken and brought to the
gallows to atone for their crime, protested their innocence
with their last breath, although hundreds around them could
attest their guilt. This Rockite war gave us considerable
trouble, and it was not for a long time after that it was
finally put down.


We remained in Newcastle till September, when we
marched to Rathkeale, in the same county. Here we continued
stationary till October 1823, when we marched again
for Dublin. I had thus an opportunity of again hearing my
favourite preacher; but the place was always so crowded that
it was seldom practicable for strangers to obtain seats.


From Dublin we marched to Belfast, in September 1824,[418]
where we continued till July 1825, when my battalion was
ordered for service in Nova Scotia. The orders of the army
being now for only six companies out of the ten to go
abroad, the other four remained at home, to form what is
termed the depôt. Application was made for me to remain
and act as paymaster to this body; but it having been decided
that quartermasters could not act as paymasters,
according to the new regulations, this boon was refused me,
although I had acted four times before. This is to be attributed
to the ill conduct of many of my brother quartermasters
who had obtained paymasterships during the war,
but who generally did not conduct themselves as men of
honour and integrity ought to do, and many were consequently
dismissed from the service. It was perfectly correct
for those in authority to consult the good of the public in all
appointments of this nature, but it was hard on those who
were thus made to suffer for the sins of others,—nay, this
ineligibility of quartermasters extended farther than to
the appointment of acting paymaster. They have since
1817 been precluded from holding the situation of full
paymaster, however well recommended they might be. I was
a second time recommended, in 1820, by Lieutenant-General
the Hon. Sir William Stewart for the paymastership of his
own battalion, that is, the one in which I was serving, but
received the same answer from the Secretary-at-War, that
quartermasters were ineligible to the situation. I cannot
but feel keenly the degradation to which the ill conduct of
certain individuals has reduced that situation, which formerly
was only like a step towards the more lucrative and
more respectable one of paymaster; but, as I said before,
we must not murmur at the dispensations of Providence,
however severely they affect our worldly prospects; and no
doubt all this was done by the direction of Him who cannot[419]
err. However, I have great reason also to be thankful to
Lord Palmerston, notwithstanding my disappointments as
above stated; for he—taking into consideration the injury
that the present quartermasters had sustained, in consequence
of the ill conduct of the individuals before noticed,
and their consequent deprivation of all prospects of farther
promotion, however eligible in other respects they might
be, and however exemplary their conduct—brought in a
bill in the session of 1826, to allow these officers to retire
on full pay after twenty years' service in the army, provided
their health was such as to render them incapable of
farther service. This could not formerly take place till
after thirty years' service. I have, therefore, abundant
cause of gratitude to that Right Honourable Lord, for his
kind remembrance of us on this occasion, as well as for his
kindness in permitting me to avail myself of the benefit of
this act; and I have on this, as on all other occasions, abundant
cause of thankfulness to the Great Disposer of all events,
not only for what He has permitted me to enjoy, but for
what He has withheld from me; for He only knows what
is really good for me, and I doubt not will give me always
that. I may with great truth declare, that goodness and
mercy have followed me all my days, notwithstanding my
seeming disappointments, and which I believe were inflicted
on me solely for my everlasting good. To Him, therefore,
be praise and glory for ever.


But to return. Having been disappointed of obtaining
the acting paymaster's place, I remained with the depôt in
my capacity as quartermaster till the spring of 1826, when
I received an order to be ready for embarkation to join the
battalion in Nova Scotia. Accordingly I embarked, with
four other officers, at Liverpool, on the 14th of June, on
board the Robert Burns merchant brig, and reached Halifax[420]
after a rather tedious passage, in which we encountered
some roughish weather on the 22d July.


I scarcely need say any thing of Halifax, which, being
one of our oldest colonies, must be well known to almost all
my readers. Neither was I there a sufficient time to enable
me to enter into a minute description of the town or
country: suffice it to say, it appears to be a town built
mostly of wood along the face of a hill, on the left-hand side
of the harbour, reaching close down to the latter, which is
so deep, capacious, and sheltered, that I question whether
there is a better in the world: a seventy-four can lie close
alongside the wharfs. The town contains, I understand,
about 13,000 inhabitants, composed of settlers from different
countries, but chiefly English, Irish, Scotch, and Dutch.
There are a few negroes, a part of the slaves taken from
the Americans during the late war having been located
here.


The colony is not so flourishing as it was during war,
as it was then greatly supported by the immense number
of ships and troops which always were stationed here.
The country round Halifax is barren in the extreme, except
a very small portion, where hay is generally grown.
It seems incapable of cultivation, being little else than
rock, with forests of stunted pines, &c. growing upon it.
In some parts of Nova Scotia, however, there is excellent
land, which yields a great return for cultivation; and were it
not for the severity of the winter, which in this country is
both long and severely trying to weak constitutions, it would,
I doubt not, be an excellent country to which to emigrate.
The waters in every direction afford abundance of fish, but
not of the best quality. There are portions of two tribes
of Indians occasionally in the neighbourhood of Halifax. I
forget their names; but the men of one tribe are exceedingly[421]
tall, being seldom below five feet ten inches, and many
reaching to six feet three inches. The men of the other are
in general short. Both tribes are fast diminishing in point
of numbers. They are greatly addicted to the fatal vice of
drunkenness, whenever they can command the means of becoming
so; and in Halifax it is no difficult matter, for the
abominable rum which is sold here may be had almost as
cheap as ale in England.


These unfortunate wanderers have hitherto resisted all
efforts to induce them to settle and cultivate the land, although
many of them are good Christians, their progenitors
having been converted by the Roman Catholic priests
while the French held the country.


The woods, &c. in the neighbourhood of Halifax contain
little game of any kind. There are a few what they call
partridges, which, I believe, roost on trees; but they have
more the appearance of grouse than the partridge of England.
There are some woodcocks also in the season, but
they are rather scarce. Snipes also, and several species of
plover, may be met with occasionally; but you will seldom be
able to fill your game-bag with any thing. There are some
hares of a very small description, little larger than our rabbits;
but these are rare. Bears also, with a few other wild
animals, occasionally show themselves; but in winter, I am
told, a deathlike silence pervades the whole face of the
country, as if every living animal had totally deserted it,
and I believe with all the winged tribes this is actually the
case.


The women here are remarkably fair and beautiful, and,
generally speaking, are, I believe, as virtuous as at home;
but among the lower orders, whose virtue is so frequently
assailed by the temptations which a large naval and
military force always brings with it, like our Portsmouth,[422]
and other places of a similar description, the scenes of vice
and abomination are extremely disgusting. A great many
of the unfortunate blacks before mentioned are included in
the number of these unhappy prostitutes.


The places of worship in Halifax are both good and
pretty numerous. There are two churches, two or three
Presbyterian or Scotch churches, two Baptist, two or three
Methodist, and one or two Roman Catholic places of worship.


I did not remain here long; for, finding that my broken
and debilitated constitution could not possibly withstand the
severity of a winter in this climate, I was ordered to be examined
by a board of medical officers, who recommended
my return to England without delay. Accordingly, on the
20th of September, I embarked on board the Borodino
transport. We sailed on the 22d, and on the 25th encountered
one of the severest gales I almost ever witnessed.
It carried away every sail we had set, and swept away our
jolly-boat from the quarter. I often wished I was once more
snug in England, and my hope was, I should then tempt the
sea no more. That same all-gracious Being who had so long
watched over me, and had brought me in safety that far on
my journey, He also brought me to my native land once
more in peace; for on the 13th of October I landed at
Portsmouth, having been only three weeks in returning
from, while we had been nearly six in going to, Halifax.


I immediately set off for London, where, having reported
myself to the Secretary at War, I was ordered to be examined
by the Director-General of Hospitals as to the state of my
health, and with a view to avail myself of the benefits of
the act of Parliament before mentioned, and being prospered
by Him who has always been better unto me than I could
possibly deserve, I have been permitted to set myself down[423]
in peace in this my own native village for the remainder of
my life, having the unspeakable privilege of being surrounded
by many kind and dear relations, who vie with each
other in their endeavours to render me comfortable and
happy, and where I can in serenity watch the gradual approach
of that enemy which my Saviour has overcome for
me, and which, my hope is, He will deprive of all his terrors,
as I trust he has done of his sting, and that, when I
shall have continued my appointed time in this vale of tears,
I, as well as the reader of this narrative, shall be taken to
Himself, to dwell with Him for ever.





[424]


[425]



APPENDIX.


The following are copies of fifteen testimonials addressed
to the late Quartermaster Surtees.





No. 1.—From Lieut.-Col. Duffy.



Birr, 24th January, 1819.




Dear Sir,


As you are on the point of removing to the 1st battalion, I take
this opportunity of expressing my entire satisfaction at the very regular
and orderly manner in which your department has been conducted
during the time you have been placed under my command;
and it will give me great pleasure should an occasion occur where my
testimony to your gentlemanlike conduct can be of service to you.



I remain, Dear Sir,

Very faithfully yours,

J. Duffy,

Lt.-Col. Rifle Brigade.





Quartermaster Surtees,

1st Bat. Rifle Brigade.






No. 2.—From Major Travers.
[426]




Tuam County, Galway, 19th April 1820.




Dear Surtees,


With feelings of most sincere regret I read your letter to me, which
I received yesterday, and lose not a moment in complying with your
request, which, should it prove to be of any use to you, I am sure
will be productive of the most heartfelt gratification to every one of
those concerned, whose opinions of you are, as they always have been,
of the highest description. Your conduct, both as a gentleman and
soldier, has ever been such as to excite in the breast of your brother
officers sentiments peculiarly favourable; and for myself, I have only
to say, that few of my old acquaintances in the corps have had my
esteem in a higher degree. I send you the sentiments of such of your
old brother officers, in the shape of a certificate, as I could obtain,
whose standing may have some influence in the procuring the accomplishment
of your wishes, and regret that the dispersed state of the
regiment prevents its being more general.



Dear Surtees,

Yours faithfully,

Jas. Travers.





Wm. Surtees, Esq.

Quartermaster, Rifle Brigade.






No. 3.—From Officers of the 2d Battalion Rifle Brigade.


The following testimonial is subscribed by us, in hopes it may
prove beneficial to an officer who has so long supported the character
which we are desirous to portray in the terms it deserves.


We certify, that Mr William Surtees, late Quartermaster in the
Rifle Brigade, has been for a considerable number of years known to
us in the regiment, and that for soldierlike and gentlemanly conduct,
no person bore a higher character. He served in the situation he
filled in the corps, particularly that of Acting Paymaster, for two
considerable periods in the Peninsula, and with the expedition to New
Orleans, with credit to himself, and satisfaction to his superiors, and,[427]
to our knowledge, obtained the general esteem and approbation of all
his brother officers of the regiment who knew him.



S. Mitchell, Brevet Lieut.-Col. and Major, 2d Bat. Rifle Brigade.

Jas. Travers, Brevet-Major, Rifle Brigade.

Wm. Cox, Capt. Rifle Brigade.

Boyle Travers, Capt. Rifle Brigade.

Chas. Geo. Gray, Brevet-Major, Rifle Brigade.

Wm. Hallen, Capt. Rifle Brigade.

T. H. Ridgway, M.D., Surgeon, Rifle Brigade.





Tuam, 19th April 1820.






No. 4.—From Lieut.-Col. Ross, C.B.



Paisley, 15th July 1820.




Dear Sir,


I learn with extreme regret that you consider it to be expedient to
make application to be removed as Quartermaster to a veteran battalion.
I have stronger reason to feel this regret than I believe any
other of your brother officers, as I have known you longer, it being
now about twenty years since we met at the formation of the Rifle
Corps; during the greater part of this time you served, I may say,
under my immediate command; and I can bear the most ample and unqualified
testimony to the zeal, intelligence, and gallantry with which
you discharged the duties of the different situations you have filled
in the corps.


I shall have great pleasure in hearing of your future welfare; and
should it ever happen to be in my power to promote your views in
any way, I hope you will consider that you will only have to make
them known.



Believe me, my Dear Sir,

Ever yours most sincerely,

John Ross, Lt.-Col.

Major, Rifle Brigade.





Quartermaster Wm. Surtees,

Rifle Brigade.






No. 5.—From Lieut.-Colonel Smith, C.B.
[428]




Halifax, Nova Scotia, 25th August 1826.




My Dear Sir,


Were it permitted a soldier to regret the loss of his comrades, then
truly should I deplore yours; I have only just learned that you are
about to avail yourself of Lord Palmerston's permission to retire from
the service on account of ill health, after having in your present situation
completed your period of twenty years. You have struggled
against indisposition with manly fortitude in various climes, and
have ever performed your duty zealously and conscientiously.


I, as well as the other officers of the corps, have ever lamented that
your natural zeal and talent as a soldier, should not have been called
forth in a more conspicuous situation; and there is not an old officer
in the regiment who has not witnessed your intrepid bravery in the
field.


I must again assure you, that you leave us with the most heartfelt
good wishes for your welfare, and the universal regret of the corps,
in which you have served so many years with the most rigid integrity
and zeal; and should I have it in my power upon any future occasion
to render you any service whatever, it will afford me as much
satisfaction as I now feel distress, in losing one of my old companions
in arms, with whom I have been so many years happily associated.



And ever believe me,

Your very sincere friend,

H. G. Smith,

Brevet Lieut.-Col. Rifle Brigade.





Quartermaster Surtees,

Rifle Brigade.






No. 6.—From Officers of the 1st Batt. Rifle Brigade.



Halifax, Nova Scotia, 30th August 1826.




We the undersigned officers present with the 1st Battalion Rifle
Brigade, who have had the satisfaction of an intimate acquaintance
with Mr Surtees for a series of years at home and abroad, beg leave[429]
to add our testimony as to the valour, integrity, zeal, and gentlemanlike
conduct which we have ever witnessed in him; and beg to express
our sincere regret at the prospect of losing his society and
services.



J. Logan, Major.

W. Johnstone, Captain.

A. Wade Pemberton, Captain.

G. Hope, Captain.

John Cox, Captain.

J. Kincaid, Lieutenant.

Joseph Burke, M.D. Surgeon.

George Simmons, Lieutenant.






No. 7.—From Colonel Norcott, C.B.



Halifax, Nova Scotia, 30th August 1826.




My Dear Sir,


I most truly and sincerely regret that your long, zealous, and indefatigable
duties have so seriously undermined your constitution, as
to oblige you to retire from the service.


Although I feel a very lively gratification in bearing testimony to
your merit and gallantry in the field, as well as to your public and private
character as an officer and a gentleman, in the most unqualified
sense, during a period of twenty-four years which I have known you,
I cannot, at the same time, but lament the circumstances which bind
me, in justice to your meritorious services, to tender you this my
humble tribute of regard and esteem for all you have done for the
service and the corps, and for such unremitted integrity and worth.
You have my ardent wishes for your health and happiness wherever
you go.



Believe me to be,

My Dear Sir,

Always sincerely yours,

A. Norcott, Colonel.






No. 8.—From Lieut.-Colonel Fullarton, C.B.
[430]




Halifax, Nova Scotia, 25th August 1826.




Dear Sir,


Having served in the same battalion with you for eighteen years,
during which time I had every opportunity, both public and private,
in various situations of home and on foreign service, of witnessing
your very exemplary conduct, both as an officer and a gentleman,
I, with my brother officers, have to regret that your ill health has
deprived the regiment of a valuable officer, and your companions of a
friend, whose amiable and excellent qualities will ever be revered by
them.


With regard to myself, it will afford me the greatest pleasure if at
any future period I can in any way be of service to you.



Believe me, my dear Sir,

Yours most truly,

Jas. Fullarton, Lt.-Col.

Major, Rifle Brigade.





Quartermaster Surtees,

Rifle Brigade.






No. 9.—From Lieut.-Colonel Balvaird.



Naas, 2d June 1826.




My dear Sir,


It affords me much pleasure to assure you, that during the time I
was in the Rifle Brigade (13 years), and more particularly when
you served under my immediate command, I can bear the most
ample and unqualified testimony to the zeal, intelligence, and gallantry
with which you discharged your duty—and wherever you may go,
you carry with you the good wishes of,



Yours most sincerely,

W. Balvaird, Lt.-Col.

late Major, Rifle Brigade.





Quartermaster Surtees,

Rifle Brigade.






No. 10.—From Major-General Sir A. F. Barnard, K.C.B.
[431]




Albany, 18th October 1826.




Dear Sir,


I have heard with great regret that your state of health has obliged
you to avail yourself of the regulation which enables you to
retire from the Rifle Brigade, in which corps I had such frequent
cause to praise the gallantry and assiduity which you showed in the
discharge of your duties in the field, and your regularity and assiduity
in quarters.


The officers of the corps, I am confident, will all regret the loss of
a person whose mild and gentlemanlike manners and disposition had
so much endeared him to them.


With every wish for your future welfare,



I remain, dear Sir,

Very sincerely yours,

A. F. Barnard.





Quartermaster Surtees,

Rifle-Brigade.






No. 11.—From Major Logan.



London, 18th October, 1826.




My Dear Surtees,


I have just learnt with much regret that you are about to retire
from the Rifle Brigade, from an impaired constitution, owing to
your unwearied and zealous exertions in the service.


From the period of my entering the Corps, twenty-two years ago,
I have had the pleasure of being intimately acquainted with you, and
I must do you the justice to state, that a more gallant, zealous, and
indefatigable officer, I have seldom fallen in with. As a gentleman,
your conduct always won and gained the esteem of your brother
officers.


Believe me I shall ever feel warmly interested in your welfare.[432]



Yours, my dear Surtees,

Most faithfully,

J. Logan,

Major 1st Bat. Rifle Brigade.





To Quartermaster Surtees,

1st Bat. Rifle Brigade.






No. 12.—From Lieut.-Colonel Beckwith, C.B.



London, 20th October, 1826.




My dear Surtees,


I cannot suffer you to return to your home, without adding my
mite of applause to that of our brother officers, who have, together
with myself, known you so well and so long.


From the day that we were employed together at Ipswich, in obtaining
volunteers from the Militia, when you were so instrumental
in obtaining so large a number of men for the service, and during the
whole of our services in the Peninsula, and elsewhere, when my
situation as Assistant Quartermaster-General of the Light Division
threw us so constantly together, until the last period of our regimental
service, I have always known and respected your courage,
your active discharge of your duties in times of difficulty and hardship,
and your zeal and affection for the Rifle Brigade.


Your present poverty is the surest testimony of your integrity,
which you have always kept in times of strong temptation, when
very many others similarly placed have not resisted so well.


All my feeble services are constantly at your disposal, and wishing
you content, and as much happiness as we can reasonably expect
here,



I remain, my dear Surtees,

Yours, most sincerely,

Charles Beckwith,

Lieut.-Colonel.





Quartermaster Surtees,

Rifle Brigade.






No. 13.—From Lieut.-General the Honourable
Sir Wm. Stewart, G.C.B.
[433]




Cumloden, Newtonstewart, Nov. 19, 1826.




If the three or four-and-twenty years, my dear sir, that I have
had the satisfaction of having had you under my command in the
Rifle Regiment or Brigade, suffice not to authorize my full approval
of your conduct, both towards that corps and towards the public
service, I know not what experience would do so. To this extent
and to still farther extent, if it be required in detail, I am gratified
by your having given me this opportunity of certifying the above.
The loss that my battalion will sustain by the deprivation of your
services will be great, and the only consolation that I shall have will
be in learning that your present object of retiring on full pay be obtained,
and that your health, injured, as my own has been, by perhaps
too great a zeal in the fulfilment of our respective duties, may be
somewhat amended by your retirement in private life. I have much
to thank you for the most justly merited encomiums from your several
commanders and from your elder brother officers, enclosed in
your letter of the 13th instant, and to these honourable documents
favour me by adding this one. I wish it was in my power to be of
any service to your views towards a civil appointment under government,
but as your age much exceeds that to which all official nominations
are now limited, application for such will be fruitless.



I have the honour to be, my dear Sir,

With repeated assurance of regard,

Your faithful friend and obedient servant,

Wm. Stewart,

Lieutenant-General.





Quartermaster Surtees,

1st Bat. Rifle Brigade.






No. 14.—From Major Eeles.
[434]




Dublin, Nov. 28, 1826.




My Dear Surtees,


I enclose herewith copies of two letters which I have received
from the office of his Royal Highness the Commander-in-Chief.


In congratulating you on their contents, I cannot refrain from
expressing, strange as it may seem, not only my gratification but also
my regret; gratification that you have succeeded in obtaining the
object of your wishes, and regret the most lively, that your state of
health should have obliged you to quit the corps; the more particularly,
as the regiment will not only by your retirement be deprived
of the benefit of your zealous and meritorious services, but I shall
lose the society of one of my oldest and most valued friends.


The senior part of the regiment will ever remember with pride
the glorious occasions in which you so often signalized yourself in
the field, while the younger members of the corps will not fail, equally
with the former, to admire the gentlemanlike conduct and urbanity
of manners which have secured to you the friendship and good wishes
of us all.



Believe me, my Dear Surtees,

Very sincerely yours,

William Eeles,

Major, Rifle Brigade.





To Quartermaster Surtees,

Rifle Brigade.






No. 15.—From Major-General Sir T. S. Beckwith, K.C.B.



Gilsland, June 26, 1827.




My Dear Sir,


In returning to you the packet you have favoured me with the
perusal of, I cannot refrain from expressing, in common with all
your old friends and brother officers of the Rifle Brigade, my regret
that your health made it necessary for you to retire from a corps,
where your faithful and unremitting services for nearly thirty years[435]
had been so eminently useful, and where you possessed the friendship
and confidence of every individual of any standing in it.


That your concern is as sincere as theirs in parting with them,
I am perfectly convinced; yet it will be matter of real consolation to
you to be able to reflect that you never gave just cause of offence to
any member of the corps, and never neglected an opportunity of
rendering them a service when in your power.


That you have not retired a richer man, is a subject of regret to
us all; and we shall learn with great satisfaction of any event, that
may tend to increase your means of doing good to those who look to
you for protection.


Should any such opening present itself, I do not hesitate to express
my conviction, that whoever may employ you, will never have reason
to repent doing so; as I am well assured you will undertake no
situation, without due reflection, and the nature of which you do
not understand; and that, once taken in hand, you will discharge
the duties of it with the same diligence and fidelity that you have
performed those of your public life for so many years past.


Earnestly wishing that a little repose after such a lengthened
series of toils and dangers, may restore you to health and strength,



I remain,

My Dear Surtees,

Your sincere and faithful friend,

Thos. Sidney Beckwith,

Col. 2d Bat. Rifle Brigade.





To William Surtees, Esq.

Late Rifle Brigade.






FINIS.



EDINBURGH: PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY,

PAUL'S WORK, CANONGATE.






Transcriber's Notes:


Obvious punctuation errors repaired.


Presumed archaic spellings have not been changed: apprize, assertor,
fusileers, grashoppers, harraing, mocassins, reconnoissance, sailer,
siene, shrapnell, spunging, vere, visiters, woful.



The following words appear both with and without diacritical marks
and have not been changed: Camiño, depôt, Peña.


There are two chapters "IV". The second one is denoted with an asterisk.


Hyphens removed: "quarter[-]master" (page 60), "wind[-]mill" (page 63, twice),
"Porto[-]Real" (page 102), "brush[-]wood" (page 197), "death[-]like" (page 139),
"road[-]side" (page 274), "fore[-]yard" (page 322).


Hyphens added: "farm[-]house" (page 14), "mid[-]day" (page 61),
"half[-]way" (pages 107, 283), "field[-]work(s)" (page 248, 369).


Page xi: "Ships'" changed to "Ship" (place their Ship Guns on
Batteries).


Page 25: "apppeared" changed to "appeared" (separate body which appeared).


Page 45: "94th" changed to "95th" (The Rifle Corps, or 94th).


Page 55: Removed duplicate "on" (to stand on the same tack).


Page 55: "Lhe" changed to "Lehe" (Bremer Lehe to the city of Bremen).


Page 79: Illegible number changed to "2d" (2d battalion of my regiment).


Page 82: "18th" changed to "10th" (in this affair the 10th hussars
were engaged).


Page 106: "call" changed to "called" (called the Tore Alto).


Page 128: "Pompadours" changed to "95th Rifles" (2d Battalion of the
95th Rifles).


Page 157: "bettter" changed to "better" (no doubt better fed).


Page 209: "Morilhl" changed to "Morillo" (thought that Don Morillo).


Page 245: "officer" changed to "officers" (the commanding-officers had
been taken up).


Page 258: "horse" changed to "horses" (our poor horses and mules).


Page 297: "numder" changed to "number" (to put a certain number).


Page 346: "chooner" changed to "schooner" (the fire of the schooner).


Page 398: Redundant "the" removed (Blakeny of the 7th).


Page 404: "brough, ast" changed to "brought, as" (This brought, as it might be expected).