In one of the first chapters of this book I not only pledged my constancy to my fair readers, but vowed to renew my addresses from time to time as opportunities offered. As my feet, however, have since trodden from one extremity of a kingdom to the other, and many months have, in the meanwhile, rolled away without giving me an opportunity of redeeming the pledge, I fear that my fidelity might be doubted if I delayed longer in assuring them that the spirit has all along been willing, but the subject fearfully wanting; for wherever I have wandered the angel of death has gone before, and carefully swept from the female countenance all lines of beauty, leaving nothing for the eye to dwell on but the hideous ruins of distress.
The only exceptions were our fellow travellers, for the country on our line of march, as already said, was reduced to a desert, and no one remained in it who had either wealth or strength to remove, and our regimental wife had deserted, but our gallant associates, the 43d and 52d regiments, had one each, who had embarked with them, and remained true to the brigade until the end of the war. One of them was remarkably pretty, and it did one's heart good to see the everlasting sweets that hung upon her lovely countenance, assuring us that our recollections of the past were not ideal, which they would otherwise have been apt to revolve themselves into from the utter disappearance of reality for so long a period.
The only addition to them which our division could boast, were two smart substantial looking Portuguese angels, who followed our two Caçadore regiments, and rode on mule-back under the especial protection of their regimental chaplain. These two were a continual source of amusement to us on the march whenever we found ourselves at liberty to indulge in it. The worthy father himself was quite a lady's man, (Portuguese,) he was a short stout old fellow, with a snuff-coloured coat buttoned up to the throat, which was quite unnecessary with him, seeing that he shaved and put on a clean shirt sometimes as often as once a fortnight. The round mealy-faced ball which he wore as a head was surmounted by a tall cocked hat, and when mounted on his bay pony in his Portuguese saddle, which is boarded up like a bucket, (the shape of his seat and thighs,) he was exactly like some of the cuts I have seen of Hudibras starting on his erratic expedition.
It was our daily amusement whenever we could steal away from our regiment a short time, for two or three of us to start with some design against the Padré and his dark-eyed wards. One of us would ride quietly up alongside of him and another on that of the ladies as if we wished to pass, but in wishing them the compliments of the season we of course contrived to get ourselves entangled in conversation, while a third officer of our party rode some distance in the rear in readiness to take advantage of circumstances.
The Padré was a good-natured old fellow, fond of spinning a yarn, and as soon as one of us had got him fairly embarked in his story, the other began gradually to detach one or both of the damsels from his side, according as the inequalities of the road favoured the movement. They entered into the frolic merrily, but still he was so much alive that we rarely succeeded in stealing one out of sight; but if we did by any accident, it was a grand scene to see the scramble which he and his pony made after the fugitives, and on recovering the one, his rage on his return to find that the other had also disappeared. After one of these successful expeditions we found it prudent never to renew the attack until his wrath was assuaged, and it never abode with him long, so that week after week and year after year we continued to renew the experiment with various success.
It is amusing to think to what absurdities people will have recourse by way of amusement when subjects for it are scarce. It was long a favourite one with us to hunt a Caçadore as we called it. Their officers as well as our own were always mounted, and when their corps happened to be marching in our front, any officer who stopped behind, (which they frequently had occasion to do,) invariably, in returning to rejoin his regiment, passed ours at a full gallop; and on those occasions he had no sooner passed our first company than the officers of it were hard at his heels, the others following in succession as he cleared them, so that by the time he had reached the head of the regiment the whole of our officers had been in full chace. We never carried the joke too far, but made it a point of etiquette to stop short of our commanding officer, (who was not supposed to see what was going on,) and then fell quietly back to our respective places.
I have often seen the hunted devil look round in astonishment, but I do not think he ever saw the wit of the thing, and for that matter I don't know that my readers will feel that they are much wiser, but it was nevertheless amusing to us; and not without its use, for the soldiers enjoyed the joke, which, though trifling, helped to keep up that larking spirit among them, which contributed so much towards the superiority and the glory of our arms. In times of hardship and privation the officer cannot be too much alive to the seizing of every opportunity, no matter how ridiculous, if it serves to beguile the soldier of his cares.
On the 1st of April we again closed up with the enemy on the banks of the Coa, near Sabugal. It was a wet muggy afternoon near dusk when we arrived at our ground, and I was sent, with the company which I had charge of, on picquet to cover the left front of our position.
The enemy held an opposite post on our side of the river, and I was ordered if they were civil to me not to interfere with them, but in the event of the reverse, to turn them over to their own side. My stomach was more bent upon eating than fighting that evening, and I was glad to find that they proved to be gentlemen, and allowed me to post my sentries as close as I pleased without interruption.
I found one of our German hussar videttes on a rising ground near me, and received an order from my brigadier to keep him there until he was relieved, and I accordingly placed a rifleman alongside of him for his better security, but after keeping him an hour or two in the dark and no relief appearing, I was forced to let him go or to share my slender allowance with him, for the poor fellow (as well as his horse) was starving. I have seen the day, however, that I would rather have dispensed with my dinner (however sharp set) than the services of one of those thorough-bred soldiers, for they were as singularly intelligent and useful on outpost duty, as they were effective and daring in the field.
The first regiment of hussars were associated with our division throughout the war and were deserved favourites. In starting from a swampy couch and bowling along the road long ere dawn of day, it was one of the romances of a soldier's life to hear them chanting their national war songs—some three or four voices leading and the whole squadron joining in the chorus. As I have already said, they were no less daring in the field than they were surpassingly good on out-post duty. The hussar was at all times identified with his horse, he shared his bed and his board, and their movements were always regulated by the importance of their mission. If we saw a British dragoon at any time approaching in full speed, it excited no great curiosity among us, but whenever we saw one of the first hussars coming on at a gallop it was high time to gird on our swords and bundle up.
Their chief, too, was a perfect soldier, and worthy of being the leader of such a band, for he was to them what the gallant Beckwith was to us—a father, as well as a leader.
He was one who never could be caught napping. They tell a good anecdote of him after the battle of Toulouse, when the news arrived of the capture of Paris and Bonaparte's abdication. A staff officer was sent to his outpost quarter to apprise him of the cessation of hostilities—it was late when the officer arrived, and after hearing the news, the colonel proceeded to turn into bed as usual, "all standing," when the officer remarked with some surprise, "Why, colonel, you surely don't mean to sleep in your clothes to-night, when you know there is an armistice?"
"Air mistress or no air mistress," replied the veteran, "by Got I sleeps in my breeches!"
We remained another day in front of Sabugal, and as it was known that Reynier held that post with his single corps unsupported, Lord Wellington resolved to punish him for his temerity.
The day dawned on the morning of the 3d of April, however, rather inauspiciously. Aurora did not throw off her night-cap at the usual hour, and when she could no longer delay the ceremony she shed such an abundance of dewy tears that Sabugal, with its steel-clad heights, remained invisible to the naked eye at the distance of a few hundred yards, which interfered materially with that punctuality in the combined movements so necessary to ensure the complete success of our enterprize. Leaving, therefore, to those concerned to account for their delays, my object in renewing this battle is to pay a last tribute to the memory of Sir Sidney Beckwith, the hero of that day.
He, as he had been directed, moved his brigade to a ford of the Coa, and was there waiting further orders, when a staff officer rode up, and hastily demanded why he had not attacked?
Beckwith was an actor of the immortal Nelson's principle—that if a commander is in doubt he never can do wrong in placing himself alongside of the enemy. We instantly uncorked our muzzle-stoppers, off with our lock-caps, and our four companies of riflemen, led through the river, (which was deep and rapid,) followed by the 43d, driving in the enemy's picquet which defended it. The officer commanding, left his sky-blue cloak fluttering in the breeze on the top of a furze bush, and I felt a monstrous inclination to transfer it to my own shoulders, for it was an article of which I happened, at that moment, to be in especial want; but as it was the beginning of a battle in place of the end of one, and I had an insurmountable objection to fight under false colours, I passed it by.
As soon as we gained the summit of the hill it became as clear as the mist that we were regularly in for it. Beckwith, finding himself alone and unsupported, in close action, with only hundreds to oppose to the enemy's thousands, at once saw and felt all the danger of his situation; but he was just the man to grapple with any odds, being in his single person a host—of a tall commanding figure and noble countenance, with a soul equal to his appearance—he was as Napier says, "a man equal to rally an army in flight."
Our four companies had led up in skirmishing order, driving in the enemy's light troops; but the summit was defended by a strong compact body, against which we could make no head; but opening out, and allowing the 43d to advance, they, with a tearing volley and a charge, sent the enemy rolling into the valley below, when the rifles again went to work in front, sticking to them like leeches.
The hill we had just gained became our rally-post for the remainder of the day, and, notwithstanding the odds on the side of the enemy, they were never able to wrest it from us. Our force was as well handled as theirs was badly, so that in the successive and desperate encounters which took place, both in advance and in retreat, we were as often to be seen in their position as they were in ours.
Beckwith himself was the life and soul of the fray; he had been the successful leader of those who were then around him in many a bloody field, and his calm, clear, commanding voice was distinctly heard amid the roar of battle, and cheerfully obeyed. He had but single companies to oppose to the enemy's battalions; but, strange as it may appear, I saw him twice lead successful charges with but two companies of the 43d, against an advancing mass of the enemy. His front, it is true, was equal to theirs, and such was his daring, and such the confidence which these hardy soldiers had in him, that they went as fiercely to work single-handed as if the whole army had been at their heels.
Beckwith's manner of command on those occasions was nothing more than a familiar sort of conversation with the soldier. To give an idea of it I may as well mention that in the last charge I saw him make with two companies of the 43d, he found himself at once opposed to a fresh column in front, and others advancing on both flanks, and, seeing the necessity for immediate retreat, he called out, "Now, my lads, we'll just go back a little if you please." On hearing which every man began to run, when he shouted again, "No, no, I don't mean that—we are in no hurry—we'll just walk quietly back, and you can give them a shot as you go along." This was quite enough, and was obeyed to the letter—the retiring force keeping up a destructive fire, and regulating their movements by his, as he rode quietly back in the midst of them, conversing aloud in a cheerful encouraging manner—his eye all the while intently watching the enemy to take advantage of circumstances. A musket-ball had, in the meantime, shaved his forehead, and the blood was streaming down his countenance, which added not a little to the exciting interest of his appearance. As soon as we had got a little way up the face of our hill, he called out, "Now, my men, this will do—let us shew them our teeth again!" This was obeyed as steadily as if the words halt, front, had been given on parade, and our line was instantly in battle array, while Beckwith, shaking his fist in the faces of the advancing foe, called out to them, "Now, you rascals, come on here if you dare!" Those he addressed shewed no want of courage, but, for a while, came boldly on to the tune of old trousers,C notwithstanding the fearful havoc we were making in their ranks; but they could not screw themselves up the long disputed hill—the 52d (two battalions) had, by this time, come into the line of battle, and were plying them hard on the right, while our rifles were peppering them on their front and left, and, as soon as they came near enough, another dash by Beckwith, at the head of the 43d, gave them the coup de grace. The fate of the day was now decided—the net which had been wove in the morning, and which the state of the weather had prevented being brought to a crisis as soon as was intended, now began to tighten around them—the 5th division crossed by the bridge of Sabugal, and the 3d, (I believe,) by a ford to the right—and Reynier, seeing no hopes of salvation but by immediate flight, very speedily betook himself to it, and, I believe, saved all that did not fall on the field of battle—a piece of good fortune of which his conduct that day shewed him undeserving, for, had not the extraordinary state of the weather caused the delays and mistakes which took place on our side, he could scarcely have taken a man out of the field.
C Old trousers was a name given by our soldiers to the point of war which is beat by the French drummers in advancing to the charge. I have, when skirmishing in a wood, and a French regiment coming up to the relief of the opposing skirmishers, often heard the drum long before we saw them, and, on those occasions, our riflemen immediately began calling to each other, from behind the different bushes, "Holloa there! look sharp! for damn me, but here comes old trousers!"
While standing in our last position, awaiting the attack in our front, I was much amused in observing, on the opposite height, the approach of our 3d division, unnoticed by the enemy—a French column occupied the top of what seemed to be almost a precipice overlooking the river; but I observed some of the 60th rifles clambering up the face of it on all fours, and, to see their astonishment, when they poked their heads over the brink, to find themselves within a couple of yards of a French column! They, of course, immediately concealed themselves under the bank; but it was curious to observe that they were unseen by the enemy, who were imprudent enough either to consider themselves secure on that side, or to give all their attention to the fight going on between their comrades and us; but certain it is they allowed the riflemen to gather there in formidable numbers. As we advanced immediately, the intervening rising ground prevented my seeing what took place, but on crowning the opposite height, which the French had just evacuated, we found, by the bodies on the ground, that they had just received a volley from a part of the third division—and one of the most deadly which had been fired that day.
Our cavalry had been astray during the fight, but they afterwards made two or three ineffectual attempts to break in upon the enemy's line of retreat.
Immediately after the action, we drew up behind an old cow-shed, which Lord Wellington occupied for a short time, while it poured torrents of rain. Sir William Erskine, with some of his horsemen, joined us there, and I heard him say to the commander-in-chief that he claimed no merit for the victory, as it belonged alone to Sidney Beckwith! I believe his lordship wanted no conjurer to tell him so, and did ample justice to the combatants, by stating in his dispatch that "this was one of the most glorious actions that British troops were ever engaged in."
To those accustomed to the vicissitudes of warfare it is no less curious to remark the many miraculous escapes from wounds than the recovery from them. As an instance of the former, I may observe, that, in the course of the action just related, I was addressing a passing remark to an officer near me, who, in turning round to answer, raised his right foot, and I observed a grape shot tear up the print which it had but that instant left in the mud. As an instance of the latter I shall here relate, (though rather misplaced,) that, at the storming of Badajos, in April, 1812, one of our officers got a musket-ball in the right ear, which came out at the back of the neck, and, though after a painful illness, he recovered, yet his head got a twist, and he was compelled to wear it, looking over the right shoulder. At the battle of Waterloo, in 1815, (having been upwards of three years with his neck awry,) he received a shot in the left ear, which came out within half an inch of his former wound in the back of the neck, and it set his head straight again!
This is an anecdote which I should scarcely have dared to relate were it not that, independent of my personal knowledge of the facts, the hero of it still lives to speak for himself, residing on his property, in Nottinghamshire, alike honoured and respected as a civilian, as he was loved and esteemed as a gentleman and a gallant soldier.D
D Lieutenant Worsley.
After the action at Sabugal our brigade was placed under cover in the town, and a wild night it proved—the lightning flashed—the winds howled—and the rains rained. The house occupied by my brother sub and myself was a two-story one, and floored after the manner of some of our modern piers, with the boards six inches apart, and transferrable, if necessary, to a wider range, without the trouble of extracting or unscrewing nails.
The upper floor, as the most honoured portion, was assigned to us, while the first was reserved for the accommodation of some ten or a dozen well-starved inmates.
We had scarcely proceeded to dry our clothes, and to masticate the few remaining crumbs of biscuit, when we received a deputation from the lower regions, craving permission to join the mess; but, excepting the scrapings of our haversacks, we had literally nothing for ourselves, and were forced to turn a deaf ear to their entreaties, for there was no making them believe we were as destitute as we seemed. It was one of those cruel scenes to which the seats of war alone can furnish parallels, for their wan and wasted countenances shewed that they were wildly in want.
The following day saw Portugal cleared of its invaders, and the British standard once more unfurled within the Spanish boundary.
The French army retired behind the Agueda, and our division took possession of a portion of its former quarters, Fuentes d'Onoro, Gallegos, and Espeja. There we enjoyed a few days repose, of which we stood in much need, it having been exactly a month since we broke up in front of Santarem, and, as the foregoing pages shew, it was not spent in idleness.
Fuentes, which was our first resting place, was a very handsome village, and every family so well known to the light division, that no matter into which quarter the billet fell, the individual was received as an old and approved friend.
The change from Portugal into Spain, as alluded to in my first work, was very striking. In the former the monkish cowl seemed even on ordinary occasions to be drawn over the face of nature; for though their sun was a heavenly one, it shone over a dark and bigotted race; and though they were as ripe for mischief as those of more enlightened nations, yet even in that they were woefully defective, and their joys seemed often sadly miscalled. But at the time I speak of, as if to shroud every thing in unfathomable gloom, the ravages of the enemy had turned thousands of what (to them) were happy homes, into as many hells—their domestic peace ruined—their houses and furniture fired, and every countenance bearing the picture of melancholy and wan despair.
Their damsels' cheeks wore no roses, yet did they wear soil enough on which to rear them. But at the same time be it remarked that I quarrel not with the countenance but with the soil, for I am a pale lover myself.
In Spain, on the contrary, health and joy seemed to beam on every countenance, and comfort in every dwelling. I have observed some writers quarrel with my former statement on this subject, and maintain that though the difference in appearance was remarkable, that so far as regards the article of cleanliness, the facts were not so. With these, however, I must still differ after giving every thing due consideration. The Portuguese did not assume to be a cleanly race, and they were a filthy one in reality. The Spaniards did affect to be the former, and I do think that they approached it as nearly as may be. I allude to the peasantry, for the upper and middling classes sink into immeasurable contempt in the comparison, but their peasantry I still maintain are as fine and as cleanly a class as I ever saw. Their dress is remarkably handsome, and though I can give no opinion as to the weekly value of soap expended on their manly countenances, yet in regard to the shirt, which is their greatest pride, and neatly embroidered in the bosom according to the position of the wearer in the minds of those on whom that portion of the ornamental devolves, I can vouch for their having shewn a clean one as often as need be. And though I do not feel myself at liberty to enter into the details of the dress of their lovely black-eyed damsels, I may be permitted to say that it is highly becoming to them; and, in short, I should have some dread of staking our national credit by parading the inmates of any chance village of our own against a similar one of theirs.
Their houses too are remarkably neat and cleanly, and would be comfortable were it not for those indefatigable villainous insects that play at a perpetual hop, skip, and jump, giving occasional pinches to the exposed parts of the inmate; and yet what warm country is exempt from them or something worse. Go into boasted America, and so great is the liberty of all classes there, that what with the hum of the musquitto above, and the bug below the blanket, the unfortunate wight, as I can testify, is regularly hum-bugged out of his natural repose. As I have taken a trip across the Atlantic for the foregoing example, I cannot resist giving an anecdote to shew that our brethren on that side of the water sometimes have a night's rest sacrificed to inexpressible causes as well as natural ones.
A gentleman at the head of the law there, (not the hangman,) told me that in his early days while the roads were yet in their infancy, he was in the habit of going his circuit on horseback, with nothing but a change of linen tacked to his crupper—that one day he had been overtaken by a shower of rain before he could reach the lonely cottage, which he had destined for his night's repose—and that it interfered materially with the harmony which had hitherto existed between him and his leather breeches, for he felt uncomfortable in them, and he felt uncomfortable out of them, arising from the dread that he might never be able to get into them again. His landlady, however, succeeded in allaying his fears for the moment, and having lent him one of her nether garments for present use, she finally consigned him to bed, with injunctions to sleep undisturbed, for that she would take especial care, while they underwent the necessary fiery ordeal, that she would put that within which should preserve their capacities undiminished.
Notwithstanding the satisfactory assurance on the part of the dame, a doubt continued still to hang on the mind of the man in the petticoat; and as "the mind disturbed denies the body rest," so was every attempt of his to close an eye, met by the vision of a pair of shrivelled leathers, until at length in a fit of feverish excitement he started from his couch determined to know the worst; and throwing open the door of the kitchen, he, to his no small astonishment, beheld his leathers not only filled, but well filled too, by the landlady herself, who there stood in them, toasting and turning round and round; neither so gracefully nor so fast as Taglioni, perhaps, but still she kept turning all the same; and it, most probably, was the smoke arising from the lawyer's wet leathers which Tom Moore saw curling so gracefully above the green elms when he wrote the Woodpecker.
But to return to the Peninsula. While it must be admitted that the hidalgo's evil is the lesser, I could, nevertheless, wish that the good old Spaniard would march a little more with the spirit of the times, for by the ordinary use of a small-tooth comb, he might be enabled to limit his hair hunting to the sports of the field.
The day after our arrival at Fuentes I was amused to hear one of our soldiers describing to a comrade his last night's fare in the new quarter. Soon after his taking possession of it, three days' rations had been served out to him, and his landlady, after reconnoitring it for a while with a wistful eye, at length proposed that they should mess together while he remained in their house, to which he readily assented; and by way of making a fair beginning, he cut off about a pound of the beef which he handed over to her, but at the same time allowing her about as much play with it as a cat does to a mouse—a precaution which he had reason to rejoice in, for he presently found it transferred to a kettle then boiling on the fire, containing, as he said, thirteen buckets of water, in which his pound of beef was floating about like a cork in the middle of the ocean! "Hilloah, my nice woman, says I, if you and I are to mess together I'll just trouble you to take out twelve buckets and a half of that water, and in place thereof, that you will be pleased to put in a pound of beef for every mouth which you intend shall keep mine in company—and if you choose to give some butter or a slice or two of bacon in addition, I shall not object to it, but I'll have none of your gammon!" The dispute ended in the rifleman's being obliged to fish out his pound of beef and keep it under his own protection.
Our repose in Fuentes was short. The garrison of Almeida was blockaded with a fortnight's provision only, and two companies of ours under Colonel Cameron were immediately dispatched to shoot their bullocks while grazing on the ramparts, which still further contracted their means of subsistence.
Lord Wellington had in the mean time hurried off to the south in consequence of the pressing importance of the operations of the corps under Marshal Beresford, leaving the main army for the time being under the command of Sir Brent Spencer. In the afternoon of the 16th of April we were hastily ordered under arms, and passing through Gallegos we were halted behind a hill on the banks of the Agueda, when we found that the movement had been occasioned by the passing of a convoy of provisions which the enemy were attempting to throw into Ciudad Rodrigo, and which was at that moment with its escort of two hundred men shut up in some inclosures of stone walls within half a mile of us surrounded by our dragoons.
I don't know how it happened, but we were kept there inactive for a couple of hours with eight thousand men sending in summonses for them to surrender, when a couple of our idle guns would have sent the loose wall about their ears and made them but too happy to be allowed to do so. But as it was, the garrison of Ciudad Rodrigo came out and carried them off triumphantly from under our noses.
This was the most critical period of the whole war; the destinies not only of England but of Europe hung upon it, and all hinged on the shoulders of one man,—that man was Wellington! I believe there were few even of those who served under him capable of knowing, still less of appreciating, the nature of the master-mind which there, with God's assistance, ruled all things; for he was not only the head of the army but obliged to descend to the responsibility of every department in it. In the different branches of their various duties, he received the officers in charge, as ignorant as schoolboys, and, by his energy and unwearied perseverance, he made them what they became—the most renowned army that Europe ever saw. Wherever he went at its head, glory followed its steps—wherever he was not—I will not say disgrace, but something near akin to it ensued, for it is singular enough to remark that of all the distinguished generals who held separate commands in that army throughout the war Lord Hill alone (besides the commander-in-chief) came out of it with his fame untarnished by any palpable error. In all his battles Lord Wellington appeared to us never to leave any thing to chance. However desperate the undertaking—whether suffering under momentary defeat, or imprudently hurried on by partial success—we ever felt confident that a redeeming power was at hand, nor were we ever deceived. Those only, too, who have served under such a master-mind and one of inferior calibre can appreciate the difference in a physical as well as a moral point of view—for when in the presence of the enemy, under him, we were never deprived of our personal comforts until prudence rendered it necessary, and they were always restored to us again at the earliest possible moment. Under the temporary command of others we have been deprived of our baggage for weeks through the timidity of our chief, and without the shadow of necessity; and it is astonishing in what a degree the vacillation and want of confidence in a commander descends into the different ranks.
Of all the commanders in that army at the period I speak of, none stood more distinguished than he who was for the moment our head (the gallant Spencer,) and yet, singularly enough, the moment he was left to himself, not only his usual daring but all spirit of enterprise seemed to have forsaken him. Witness the escape of the French detachment as just related, as well as the various subsequent movements under him; whereas, within a few days, when in the field of Fuentes under Wellington, he was himself again.
While halted behind the hill already mentioned, I got my first look at the celebrated Guerilla chief, Don Julian Sanchez. He was a middling-sized thick-set fellow, with a Spanish complexion, well whiskered and mustached, with glossy black hair, and dressed in a hussar uniform. The peasantry of that part of the country used to tell rather a romantic story of the cause which induced him to take up arms,—namely, that the French had maltreated and afterwards murdered his wife and family before his face, besides firing his house, (cause enough in all conscience,) and for which he amply revenged himself, for he became the most celebrated throat-cutter in that part of the world. His band when he first took the field did not exceed fifty men, but about the period I speak of his ranks had swelled to about fifteen hundred. They were a contemptible force in the field, but brave, enterprising, and useful in their mountain fastnesses—in cutting off supplies and small detachments. I did not see his troops until some time after, when his heavy dragoons one day crossed our line of march. They afterwards cut a more respectable figure; but at that period they looked a regular set of ragamuffins, wearing cocked hats with broad white lace round the edges; yellow coats, with many more than button-holes, and red facings; breeches of various colours and no stockings, but a sort of shoe on the foot with a spur attached, and their arms were as various as their colours; some with lances, some with carabines, and in short, every one seemed as if he had equipped himself in whatever the fortune of war had thrown in his way.
As the battle of Fuentes approached, our life became one of perpetual motion, and when I raised my head from its stone pillow in the morning, it was a subject of speculation to guess within a league of its next resting place, although we were revolving within a very limited space. Nothing clings so tenaciously to my mind as the remembrance of the different spots on which I have passed a night. Out of six years campaigning it is probable that I slept at least half the period under the open canopy of heaven, (barring latterly a sheet of canvas,) and though more than twenty years have since rolled over my head, I think I could still point out my every resting place.
On the night of the 1st of May I was sent from Alameda with thirty riflemen and six dragoons to watch a ford of the Agueda. The French held a post on the opposite side—but at daylight in the morning I found they had disappeared. Seeing a Spanish peasant descending on the opposite bank—and the river not being fordable to a person on foot, while its continuous roaring through its rugged course drowned every other voice—I detached one of the dragoons, who brought him over behind him, and as he told me that the French were, at that moment, on the move to the left, I immediately transmitted the information to head quarters. I was soon after ordered to join my battalion, which I found lodged in a stubble field about half way between Gallegos and Alameda, on a piece of rising ground which we had christened Kraüchenberg's hill, in compliment to that gallant captain of German hussars, who, with his single troop, had made a brilliant and successful charge from it the year before on the enemy's advancing horsemen.
The following night we had gone to bed in the village of Espeja, but were called to arms in the middle of it, and took post in the wood behind.
With the enemy close upon us, our position was any thing but a safe one; but, as it included a conical hill, which commanded a view of their advance, Lord Wellington was anxious to retain it until the last possible moment.
The chief of the German hussars, who covered the reconnoitring party, looked rather blank when he found, next morning, that the infantry were in the act of withdrawing, and tried hard to persuade Beckwith to leave two companies of riflemen as a support, assuring him that all the cavalry in the world were unable to harm them in such a cover; but as the cover was, in reality, but a sprinkling of the Spanish oaks, our chief found it prudent to lend his deaf ear to the request. However, we all eventually reached the position of Fuentes unmolested—a piece of good luck which we had no right to expect, considering the military character of our adversaries, and the nature of the ground we had to pass over.
Having been one of the combatants in that celebrated field, and having already given a history of the battle such as the fates decreed, it only remains with me, following the example of other historians, to favour the public with my observations thereon.
In the course of my professional career several events have occurred to bother my subaltern notions on the principles of the art of war, and none more than the battle of Fuentes; but to convey a just idea of what I mean to advance, it is necessary that I should describe the ground, and while those who choose, may imagine that they see it sketched by one who never before drew any thing but the cork out of a bottle, or a month's pay out of the hands of the pay-master, others, whose imaginations are not so lively, must be contented in supposing themselves standing, with an army of thirty thousand men, between the streams of the Tourones and Dos Casas, with our right resting on Nava d'Aver, and our left on Fort Conception, a position extending seven miles.
The French advanced from Rodrigo with forty-five thousand men to relieve their garrison, which we had shut up in Almeida, which is in rear of our left—and in place of going the straight road to it, through Alameda and Fort Conception, Massena spreads his army along our whole front, and finally attacks the most distant part of it, (Nava d'Aver.)
That, I believe, was all strictly according to rule, for the purpose of preserving his base of operations; but I am labouring to shew that it was an occasion on which Massena might and ought to have set every rule at defiance, for, in possession of a strong fortress under his own lee, and another under that of his adversary, with an army in the field exceeding ours by a fourth, he ought to have known that no possible cast of the dice could have enabled us to do more than maintain the blockade—that, if we gave him a defeat it was impossible for us to follow it up, and if he defeated us our ruin was almost inevitable—in short, had I been Prince of Essling, I would have thrust every thing but my fighting men under the protection of the guns of Rodrigo, and left myself, free and unfettered, to go where I liked, do what I could, and, if need be, to change bases with my adversary; and it is odd to me if I would not have cut such capers as would have astonished the great Duke himself.
From Fuentes to Alameda, a distance of between two and three miles, trusting to the ruggedness of the banks of the Dos Casos, the position was nearly altogether unoccupied on our side, and had Massena but taken the trouble to wade through that stream as often as I had, sometimes for love and sometimes for duty, he would have found that it was passable in fifty places—and, as the ground permitted it, had he assembled twenty thousand infantry there, to be thrust over at day-light, and held the rest of his army in readiness to pounce upon the wing to be attacked—and, had he prayed too, as did the Scottish knight of old, (who had more faith in his good sword than in the justice of his cause,) in these words, "O, Lord, we all know that the race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong, and that, whichever side you take, will be sure to win; but, if you will, for this once, stand aside, and leave us two to fight it out, I shall be for ever obliged to you"—he might then have commenced the day's work with a tolerable prospect of success—for, if half the twenty thousand men, on reaching the top of the hill, remained to keep the one wing in check, and the remainder turned against the flank of the devoted one, while his main army took it in front, they would have had good cause to feel ashamed of themselves if they did not dispose of it long before human aid could have reached, and odd would it have been if the others had not then considered it high time to be off.
What alterations Lord Wellington would have made in his dispositions had he found himself opposed to one who held such fighting views as I do, it is not for me to say; but it is evident that he estimated Massena at his full value when he persisted in holding such an extended position with an inferior army, while the other, with his superior force, was satisfied with battering a portion of his best regimentalE brains out against the stone walls about Fuentes, and retiring, at last, without attaining the object of his advance.
E The most formidable attack there on the 5th was made by his most choice troops, and they succeeded in penetrating to the high ground behind the church, where they were met by a brigade of the 3d division, and routed with great slaughter. One of the wounded prisoners pointed out to me the body of a captain of grenadiers, (whose name I forget,) who was renowned in their army for his daring.
The foregoing reflections will, no doubt, to many, appear wild; but, with a tolerable knowledge of the ground, and of the comparative strength, I am not the less satisfied that my plan may be often tried with success.
In speaking of distance, however, it must not be forgotten that in war the opposing bodies come together with wonderful celerity; for, although soldiers do not see so far as severed lovers, who, by transmitting their looks at each other through the moon or some favoured star, contrive to kill space more quickly, yet the soldier, who has no great stomach for the battle, and sees his enemy in the morning almost out of sight, begins to reckon himself secure for that day, must be rather astonished when he finds how soon a cannon-ball makes up the difference between them!
Packenham, (the gallant Sir Edward,) who was then adjutant-general, led the brigade of the third division, which restored the battle in the village. He came to us immediately after, faint with excitement, where we were standing in reserve, and asked if any officer could oblige him with some wine or brandy—a calabash was unslung for his use, and after taking a small sip out of it, and eulogizing, in the handsomest manner, the conduct of the troops, he left us to renew his exertions wherever they might be wanted. He was as gallant a spirit as ever went into a field!
Lord Wellington, in those days, (as he was aware,) was always designated among the soldiers by the name of Old Douro. The morning after the battle, the celebrated D. M. of the guards, rode up to a group of staff officers, and demanded if any of them had seen Beau Douro this morning? His Lordship, who was there reclining on the ground in his boat-cloak, started up, and said, "Well! by —— I never knew I was a beau before!" The same morning that officer came galloping to us with an order—our chief, (Sidney Beckwith,) who was never on horseback except when his duty required it, had the greatest horror of the approach of a staff officer, who generally came at full speed until within a yard or two—seeing M. coming on as usual on his fiery dark chesnut, he began waving his hand for him to stop before he had got within fifty yards, and calling out, "Aye, aye, that will do! we'll hear all you have got to say quite well enough!"
Among the many great and goodly names of general officers which the Army-list furnished, it was lamentable to see that some were sent from England, to commands in that army, who were little better than old wives,F and who would have been infinitely more at home in feeding the pigs and the poultry of a farm-yard than in furnishing food for powder in the field; yet so it was:—the neglect of such an one to deliver an order with which he had been entrusted, lost us the fame and the fruits of our victory, it prevented a gallant regiment from occupying the important post intended for it, and it cost that regiment its gallant chief, whose nice sense of honour could see no way of removing the stain which the neglect of his superior had cast upon his reputation, than by placing a pistol to his own head. His fate was sadly and deeply deplored by the whole army.