"Cape Town, South Africa,
January 26, 1799.
"Had not our water failed, I should not have had the pleasure of sending you these few lines, it being the positive order for the Commodore not to touch anywhere, except en cas de besoin. We arrived here three weeks ago after a passage of twelve weeks. Nothing material happened, only that one of the large Indiamen ran foul of us in the night and carried away part of our stern. I never was so frightened in my life. I thought that it was certainly all over with us. You can form no idea of the shock. Seamen think nothing of these things, but as for me, who am not a seaman and have no wish to be, I am in constant fear. Soon after our arrival we received orders to disembark, and to remain until such time as a reinforcement should arrive. I am happy to say that yesterday orders were issued for a re-embarkation. Our heavy baggage goes on board to-morrow; I imagine we shall do so the day after. The General, whose name is Dundas, reviewed us the other morning, and was highly pleased with our appearance, and not without reason. We no doubt are, for our numbers, the prettiest and best-disciplined regiment in the Service. You will excuse my mentioning it."
Here we see the true regimental officer's pride in his corps. The spirit which Moore had created in his officers still lived—to the 51st officer no regiment was equal to the 51st,—and without such a feeling, which was by no means universal in those days, a regiment was of little real value. That the 51st was in as good order as the officers thought is vouched for by General Dundas's Inspection Report, which is still in existence.
The presence of a British general and British troops at Capetown in 1799 is worthy of comment, because no part of South Africa belonged to Great Britain at that time, and Capetown was not actually captured by the British, to hold for their own, until 1806,[38] and not acknowledged as a British possession until 1814. The reason was this: In 1794 the Cape had been for many years in the possession of the Dutch East India Company, whose rights no other Europeans disputed, and at the end of that year the French overran the Netherlands, the Hereditary Stadtholder, the Prince of Orange, taking refuge in England. Fearing that the French would proceed against the Dutch colonies, the Prince thought of his alliance with Great Britain and Prussia, and forthwith (February 1795) sent to the Dutch Governor of the Cape a despatch, ordering him to admit into the colony any British troops which might be sent, in order that they might protect the Dutch possession from a French invasion. This despatch was conveyed to the Cape by a British fleet, carrying British troops, but the Governor, knowing that the Netherlands had become a Republic and had joined France, refused to accept the orders of the exiled Stadtholder. The British General's position was a peculiar one; he had been ordered by his Government to occupy Capetown as a friendly measure, but this the Dutch Governor declined to allow him to do. A month was spent in negotiations, and when these failed, General Craig took matters into his own hand, occupying Simonstown, and declaring his intention of carrying out his orders. The Dutch flew to arms, and expressed their determination to resist the unwarrantable intrusion, but in August were driven out of the position which they had taken up. In the following month a reinforcement of three thousand British soldiers joined General Craig, and against these heavy odds the Dutch could do little, so that the occupation of Capetown on the 16th September became an easy matter. From that time until 1803 the British held the Cape, nominally for the Dutch, but in reality for Great Britain; but by the Peace of Amiens, signed in March 1802, it was restored to the Dutch, with the proviso that the English East India Company could use it as a place of call.
In April 1799 the 51st disembarked at Madras, and took up quarters in Fort St George. Southern India (or the Carnatic, as it was then usually called), which, for some years past, had been in a state of unrest, owing to the tyranny of the notorious Tippoo of Mysore, was still the scene of military operations, but the 51st arrived just too late to take part in the great victory at Seringapatam, where, on the 4th May, the British force stormed and captured Tippoo's stronghold, annihilated the Mysore army, and killed the infamous ruler himself. After that the country gradually settled down to comparative quiet, and the British troops, no longer required for keeping order, were free for employment elsewhere, the 51st receiving orders for Ceylon.
"The homeward-bound fleet leaves the Roads to-morrow," wrote Sam Rice, from Fort St George, Madras, on the 9th August 1799. "The mail is ordered to be made up this evening. Only one ship has left this coast for England since our arrival, which was with the news of the capture of Seringapatam. I was then with a detachment up the country, and did not know of her sailing, which accounts for my not having written before.
"I am sorry to say that we were not fortunate enough to share the honours with the conquerors of Mysore and divide with them the immense treasure of the tyrant in his capital. It is at least two thousand pounds out of my pocket, besides the chance of plunder—and being a flank company officer would have assisted me. It cannot be helped; better fortune another time. By the last news from Europe, this part of the world is likely to be the quietest for some time to come. The war seems only to be just begun; the fate of England and of Europe in general must soon be determined. We embarked for Colombo, in Ceylon, soon after our arrival here. After cruising in the Bay for three weeks, and beating against the monsoon in vain, we were at length compelled to put back, with half our men sick. Our loss has been very great, and the Regiment is still very sickly. It is yet thought that, when the monsoon shifts, we shall again attempt Colombo. I cannot give you a favourable account of India; the climate is so hot that, in my opinion, no real pleasure can be enjoyed; but this is always the cry of a newcomer; time and necessity may reconcile me to it."
Sam Rice's occasional references to prize-money and plunder sound nowadays very mercenary in a British officer, but a century ago such things added zest to the soldier's life, for, it must be remembered, rewards were for the few, and medals only for the most senior of the officers. Though plunder was not regarded as legitimate, prize-money was quite in order and regulated by Government. Everything taken from the enemy was sold by Government, and the amount realised was divided among the troops engaged, according to rank, so that, in the case of big captures, even a private soldier often received as much as £100; at Seringapatam, for instance, more than a million of money was divided amongst the troops, who, moreover, pillaged freely on their own account. Eventually, but not until after the middle of the nineteenth century, prize-money came to be considered degrading to the spirit of the British soldier, who, it was thought, should have higher motives for doing his duty. Moreover, the distribution of prize-money to a part of the army, because that part happened to make a fortunate capture, was certainly unjust to the remainder of the army who might have had an equally hard time, though with less luck. Consequently, it was decided to substitute for prize-money a regulated rate of field-service allowance to all officers and men engaged in a campaign, and captures from the enemy became the property of Government. Private plunder, as a relic of barbarism, was generally denounced, and was often dealt with as a crime for which the punishment was death, yet, even in the Peninsular War, it went on to a great extent, and was at times openly winked at. And the Peninsular War cannot be said to have seen the last of open plunder, as witness the sacking of the Summer Palace in 1860, and somewhat similar, though perhaps less open, incidents up to forty years later. Apart from the moral aspect of the question, plundering by an army is, of course, subversive of all discipline, as men once given over to plunder become irreclaimably out of hand. It has to be dealt with drastically—no other means can check it; for it is a curious psychological fact that, even in this present age of civilisation, men whose morals are above suspicion, and who under ordinary circumstances would not dream of misappropriating the smallest portion of another man's property, regard the property of the absent enemy as fair loot. The man's arguments are simple ones: if he did not take the thing, some one else would do so; when the enemy fled he abandoned all his possessions; and findings are keepings. All said and done, nations themselves have not always set the best example; and some of the art treasures of Europe have changed hands more than once as a result of conquest.
It was not until February 1800 that the 51st again embarked for the voyage to Ceylon, having in the meanwhile returned to garrison duty at St Thomas' Mount and at Fort St George, and on its departure the Governor-General of Madras, Lord Clive, issued a special valedictory order, in which he remarked on the splendid state of the regiment and its excellent discipline. Landing at Trincomalee three days after leaving Madras, the regiment encamped there for a week, and then went on again, by sea, to Colombo, at which place it eked out, for nearly two years, an extremely dull garrison existence, as may be gathered from the following extract from a letter written by Captain Rice at Colombo, on the 26th July 1800:—
"Our stay at Trincomalee was not long. This is by far the best place in the island, but, although it is surrounded by cinnamon gardens and many other fine things, I cannot say much in its favour. It is something cooler than the coast of India; existence may be endured; but there is no society whatever. It is most probable that our Regiment will remain some time on this island,—I am afraid longer than we wish. Everything here is very expensive, owing to the difficulty of getting supplies from the coast (India), which can only be done in the particular seasons. A secret expedition has lately been fitted out at Madras. Part has already sailed with H.M.'s 10th Regiment. We are always left out; better luck, I hope, for the future. Little is stirring in the country since the fall of the Mysorean tyrant, nor do I think there will be for some time to come. A Mahratta war was talked of, but I believe they are too wise."
Ceylon, when the 51st went there, had two principal British settlements on the coast—Trincomalee and Colombo, which had been captured from the Dutch as recently as 1796.[39] The British were also in possession of, or at any rate had control over, such a depth of coast-line all round the island as could be dominated by ships' guns. The remainder of the island was ruled over by an independent chief, with whom the Dutch had attempted to form treaties of friendship, and whom likewise the British approached. This chief, the King of Kandy, however, disliked, and had the strongest suspicions of the motives of, all Europeans, and was, moreover, inflated with a sense of his own importance, so the overtures of the British Governor came to naught. On the death of the King of Kandy in 1798, trouble arose concerning the succession to the throne, which was usurped by a stranger without any pretensions. Plots and counterplots ensued among the Kandians, and after a while one of the parties endeavoured to enlist the services of the British, to establish order. The Governor refused to interfere in the internal affairs of the Kandians, and nothing of particular importance occurred until 1802, when some native traders from British territory were ill-treated and robbed by the Kandians, and redress for the outrage being refused, Governor North decided to march on Kandy.
Although Kandy was no great distance from Colombo, it lay high up in the mountains, and was most difficult of approach, the roads being bad, the jungle dense, and the passes dangerous. On the 31st January 1803, the 51st, forming part of General Macdowall's column, commenced the march, and after surmounting many difficulties, on the 19th February stormed and carried two strong posts, and put the enemy to flight. Hardships and sickness told considerably on the men, but within a week of the first brush with the enemy, the 19th and 51st Regiments marched into Kandy, which the enemy had evacuated and set on fire. The capture of the capital had been tolerably simple, but little good came of it, for the General soon found that sickness had reduced his force to less than two thousand men, barely one half of whom were Europeans, that supplies were running short, and that his communications with Colombo were cut by the enemy, who began to assume a threatening attitude on all sides of Kandy. A few skirmishes took place during March; when, learning that no reinforcements would be sent to him, Macdowall patched up a truce with the Kandians, and leaving a thousand men, two-thirds of whom were natives, to garrison Kandy, withdrew the remainder of his force, including the 51st, in safety to Colombo, which was reached on the 9th April.
During the rest of the year small detachments of the regiment were employed in repelling aggressions on the part of the Kandians, who raided British territory in many directions. Several officers and a considerable number of men died of disease, and the 51st was reduced to a mere skeleton. Nor was the health of the other troops at Colombo any better; and when it became known, in June 1803, that the garrison at Kandy, now a handful of weaklings, was being besieged by the infuriated Kandians, it was found to be impossible to send a force to its relief; and India could not spare a single man for Ceylon, as all available troops were required for the Mahratta War. In the end, the Kandians recaptured their capital, and murdered the remnant of the British garrison in cold blood, though preserving the life of Major Davie, the commandant, whom they cast into prison, doubtless under the impression that he might be useful to them some day. The war died out in 1805, without any attempt on the part of the British to revenge their murdered compatriots, for the reason that no sufficient reinforcements were ever available, and the fate of Major Davie is pitiful to think of. For nearly nine years he languished in a dungeon in Kandy, and died there, worn out by disease, not to be revenged until 1815, when the power of the Kandian kings was broken for ever, and the whole island taken over by the British.
The 51st continued to garrison Colombo until 1807, and suffered much from the enervating climate, losing a great many officers and men, and having a number of officers invalided home—amongst them Samuel Rice, whose constitution was undermined, and who never really recovered from the effects of service in Ceylon, although he managed to fight through many subsequent campaigns. In September the remnant of the regiment landed in England, after an absence of fifteen years, the last nine of which had been passed in absolute exile. Home news lost most of its interest during the six or eight months which it took to drift through to Ceylon, and what was going on in Europe affected the exiles little, for their own petty war and its attendant hardships gave them sufficient to think about. Yet, in Europe stirring events had been in progress, and the 51st, in going to the East, were denied the satisfaction of taking part in the reoccupation of the Mediterranean, which commenced with the capture of Minorca by a force under Sir Charles Stuart, only a month after the regiment sailed from Lisbon. They missed also the subsequent capture of Malta in 1800, and the chance of sharing in Abercromby's great victories over the French in Egypt in 1801. But they did not miss much else, for the Peace of Amiens (March 1802) brought the war to a close, and though France again declared war against England fourteen months later, no actual fighting took place on shore. The British navy, however, continued to be actively employed, more especially in frustrating Napoleon's designs for an invasion of England, and this grand scheme was finally wrecked in October 1805, when the mighty Nelson, at the cost of his life, almost annihilated the French fleet at the Battle of Trafalgar. Napoleon being thus deprived of the means of transporting his "Army of England" across the Channel, turned and vented his wrath on Continental Europe, carried his conquests far and wide, and proclaimed one of his brothers King of Naples, and another King of Holland.
That there was plenty of fighting in prospect for the army was apparent to the officers of the 51st when they reached England, but for the moment they had no men, and the next few months were devoted to bringing the regiment up to strength, as well as to gaining an insight into the vast changes which had taken place in the army and in military methods during the past decade; for the officers, who had been absent from England for so long, soon realised that they were considerably behind the times. In Ceylon they had heard little or nothing of the great reforms in progress at home—reforms initiated by none other than their old commanding officer, Major-General John Moore, and, as will be shown in the next chapter, far-reaching in their ultimate results.
After such brilliant work as was done by Abercromby's army in Egypt in 1801, it may seem strange that any one should have questioned the ability of the British army to meet and defeat any numerically equal force in Europe. Fortunately for England, however, there were in the army officers whose deep study of their profession told them that the tactics of fighting were moving towards a change, and that old methods before long would have to pass away. Fortunately, again, such officers were not carried away by the glamour of the recent victories in Egypt, and the fact that they themselves participated in those victories added considerably to the weight of their counsels. It has always been the case that campaigns, however successful they may have been, have been followed by reforms in the army; for it is only from experience gained in actual warfare that it is possible to discover the shortcomings of a force, or how to set matters to rights. There was, therefore, nothing peculiar in the move which was made in 1802 towards overhauling the affairs of the army, and the prime mover in the reforms was the Commander-in-Chief, H.R.H. the Duke of York.
As was mentioned in an earlier chapter, it was common knowledge, as far back as 1792, that a long immunity from European warfare was beginning to tell on the wellbeing of the British army, and that the officers were in a measure losing touch with their profession. Still, no immediate action was taken, and the good work done in India, the West Indies, and elsewhere led the authorities to believe that there was nothing very much amiss. In 1802, however, came the opportunity. The peace patched up in that year brought about extensive reductions in the establishment of the British army, and it became necessary to place a great many officers on half pay. Moore, who, after much foreign service, was then commanding the Canterbury district, and who, as we have previously shown, had great ideas on the subject of good officers, seized the opportunity offered by these reductions to weed out such officers as he deemed undesirable. The matter of seniority was nothing to him, and he applied, at any rate to the regiments under his immediate command, the hitherto unheard-of principle—selection, pure and simple, and made by himself. His methods were somewhat severe, and he did not confine his operations to the junior officers, as is evident from his correspondence with the Adjutant-General of the Army. "Some commanding officers," he wrote in 1803, "the state of whose regiments justify it, must be told to retire from the service, the duties of which they are unequal to. The command must not be allowed to devolve upon their majors, who may be equally incapable, but be given to officers of approved talents. One or two measures of this sort generally known would excite an exertion which at present is much wanted."[40]
Moore was ably supported, not only by the Commander-in-Chief, but also by his old commanding officer of Corsican days, General David Dundas, who, in these early years of reform, first was Quartermaster-General of the Army, and afterwards was in command of the Southern District—and so again Moore's commanding officer. Moore's suggestions carried immense weight with the authorities, and a great number of officers who had failed to take their profession seriously found themselves retired on half pay. The result, though disastrous to the officers concerned, put new life into the commissioned ranks, and opened the way for the remodelling of the whole organisation of the army. The question of the officers having been settled, and their zeal and efficiency having been assured, Moore's work was simplified, and it was on Moore—only a major-general commanding a comparatively small district—that the military authorities leaned in carrying out their scheme for the reorganisation of the army. This was, of course, natural enough, for Moore himself, if not the originator of the scheme, was at any rate the chosen mouthpiece of General Dundas, whose views concerning the training of troops were held in high esteem. But what is not easy to understand is the absence of opposition on the part of the older conservative officers, senior to Moore. The fact, however, remains that he was given a free hand, and when, in 1803, he determined to reform the discipline and training of the army on lines which he had been working out for many years, principally during active service in the West Indies, Holland, and Egypt, he was given the command of a special brigade of selected regiments, with which he was permitted to experiment to his heart's content.
The sole purpose of his system was to convert the British army into a thoroughly sound and reliable fighting machine, suitable to the times. He had observed that Napoleon was adopting new tactics; he foresaw that the times were changing; and he realised the fact that the experiences of fighting in India, in the West Indies, in Holland, and in Egypt would be of small value to troops pitted against Napoleon's trained veterans in Europe, unless such experiences were thoroughly examined, with a view to discovering if the army had learned anything worth learning, or if it was still behind the times. Moore was perfectly convinced that in tactical formations in the attack and the defence the methods of the infantry of the army were out of date; but he knew, also, that the men of the British army were made of sound stuff, and that under efficient officers they could be trained to do anything. It is worthy of note, however, that the changes which Moore introduced did not arise, as is usually the case, from any improvement in firearms, but rather from a careful study of recent campaigns in various parts of the world. In short, Moore saw what was wrong, and endeavoured to set matters right, with what result will presently be shown.
In order to understand how it came about that the British infantry within a few years proved more than a match for the French in the Peninsular War, it is necessary to have some knowledge of the methods of fighting previously adopted by the armies of the two nations, and then to see how Moore altered these methods, by assimilating the good and by eliminating the bad, by pruning and by inducing fresh growth. We shall see that, in the new system of training, everything depended on the regimental officer; and we shall see that, when war came, it was the regimental officer who made the British army almost invincible.
Without entering too deeply into the history of tactics, we may say that up to the middle of the eighteenth century the fighting formation of infantry, whether in attack or defence, consisted generally of solid bodies of troops, which marched up in two massive columns, and then deployed, in the face of the opposing force, into two lines each composed of three ranks. Skirmishers were then unknown; and very great attention was paid to drill. About 1757 we find the Austrians using light troops (Croats) to harass Frederick the Great's army on the march; but these do not appear to have been properly organised, and, though always annoying, they seldom acted with real judgment. In 1774 Mesnil Durand invented a system in which skirmishers played a considerable part. Battalions were to move in double company columns at deploying intervals, two of the ten companies of each battalion acting as skirmishers to cover the whole front of the line of columns. It was held that in this way the fire of the skirmishers would make itself felt to such an extent that it would only remain for the heavy columns behind to push in and crush the enemy by sheer weight. This was to a certain extent the system adopted by the French in 1793, and employed by the French generals in the Peninsular War, and by Napoleon until his final defeat at Waterloo, except that the columns of attack were deep and solid, and not merely single battalion columns or lines of battalion columns.
It may therefore be said that skirmishers first took their place in the organisation of Continental armies about 1774, but years before that the question of their employment had been freely discussed. As early as 1754 Comte Lancelot Turpin de Crissé had published a work on the Art of War, in which he dealt with the uses of light troops at some length, and the British army had had its bodies of trained light infantrymen certainly before 1758.[41] In all probability they originated about the year 1757, when the British generals, fighting against the French in America, found that the latter's Red Indian allies perpetually annoyed them on the march and on other occasions, and determined to meet them in their own methods of fighting. Consequently, every regiment in America was ordered to select "the most enterprising officers and the most active of the privates with the appellation of Rangers." Lord Howe, then commanding the 55th Regiment, but in 1758 raised to the command of the army in the field, was immensely impressed by the Red Indian methods of warfare, and was supported by several commanding officers, who realised the absurdities of tight clothes and movements in solid formation, when engaging the enemy in the rough forest country of the New World. The success which attended the experiment of the Rangers led to the formation of a light company in every regiment, and the valuable services which these companies performed during the next few years fully justified their existence. And the matter was carried still further, for, in 1758, a whole regiment was equipped for light work, and named Gage's Light Infantry.[42] In that year, however, while leading a desperate attack on the French, Howe was shot dead, at the head of the Rangers, in the hour of victory.
At the peace of 1763 all the light companies of regiments were reduced, and the lessons learned in America for the time being were forgotten. In 1770, however, some one remembered the value of light troops, and the light companies were established afresh. In all probability that some one was Lord Howe's brother, General William Howe, who had distinguished himself as a leader of light infantry in Wolfe's Quebec campaign of 1759, for in 1774 he was allowed to take the light companies of seven regiments to Salisbury, and exercise them as a battalion in certain manœuvres which he had invented. There was apparently little similarity between Howe's formations and those of Mesnil Durand mentioned above, for whereas the latter's flank companies were employed with their own battalion, as part and parcel of it in the fight, Howe's idea was to take these companies away from their regiments, and form them into separate battalions, for distinct and special work. In this way Sir William Howe, in chief command of the British forces, employed the flank companies of regiments during the War of American Independence, the most important and most hazardous duties being performed by battalions composed of them.
Both Viscount Howe and his brother, Sir William, gained their first knowledge of light troops from the Red Indians, and it may perhaps be remarked that, in 1880-1881, irregular warfare with the Boers gave us the idea of mounted infantry. There is a striking analogy between the old light infantry and the modern mounted infantry: each was the outcome of a desire for greater mobility than ordinary infantry soldiers were capable of; each began in the same way; the light company and the mounted infantry company contained the picked men of the battalion, and, in war, these companies of the best men were taken away from their regiments to work, with similar companies of other regiments, as separate battalions, the merits or demerits of which it is not necessary to enter into here.
To return to the development of light troops in the British army. In 1782 the light companies of nine regiments were assembled in camp at Coxheath, Kent, and, together with two battalions of infantry and two regiments of light dragoons, were practised in what was termed the "Dundas Exercises," which were being tried for the first time. A year or two later, Dundas visited the Prussian manœuvres, obtained some fresh ideas, and then published his monumental work, which eventually became the first drill-book authorised to be used in the British army. Dundas, however, had very little new to say about light troops, and his exercises were practically on the Continental model. In 1794 Sir Thomas Graham[43] (afterwards Lord Lynedoch) raised a regiment (which was numbered the 90th), and had it equipped and drilled as a light infantry corps, though it was not recognised officially as such for another eleven years. It was in the above year that Moore was working with Corsican troops in the field, and he always considered the Corsicans the best light infantrymen in the world, although he acknowledged that they lacked the discipline necessary for holding their own against highly-trained troops. In 1798 Howe[44] again came to the front, and superintended the training of a brigade of all arms, assembled on the Essex coast, in his light drill. Lastly, in 1800, H.R.H. the Commander-in-Chief ordered the assembly at Horsham of a temporary corps, for the purpose of training a body of men in the use of the rifle, fourteen regiments being called upon to furnish thirty privates and a proportion of officers and non-commissioned officers. After the summer training, these men were moved to Blatchington, and were then formed into the Rifle Corps (95th),[45] for whom Colonel Coote Manningham and Lieutenant-Colonel the Hon. W. Stewart drew up the famous 'Regulations for the Rifle Corps,' published in 1801. The methods of training these riflemen were very similar to those employed in training temporary light infantry corps composed of the light companies of regiments, except in so far as the superior range and accuracy of the rifle over the flintlock musket altered the conditions of the attack and defence.
By this time it had been discovered that Napoleon had developed the use of his voltigeurs enormously, and that his victories were being secured by the judicious employment of these light troops; so English books dealing with the systematic training of light troops now began to appear. The earliest of these was one based on a translation of a work by a "German officer of distinction and of much military experience," which, first produced in 1798 (reprinted in 1801 and 1803), under the title of 'Regulations for the Exercise of Riflemen and Light Infantry, and Instructions for their Conduct in the Field,' was ordered to be studied by all officers of the army. Who that German officer was is never made clear, and in 1803 there appeared another and a far more valuable work, entitled 'A Treatise upon the Duties of Light Troops,' translated from the German of Colonel Von Ehwald, but there is nothing in this book to lead one to believe that Von Ehwald was the author of the earlier work. The gallant Colonel had served in the Seven Years' War, commanded a corps of Hessian jägers, in British pay, during the American War of Independence, and subsequently commanded a light corps of the Danish army, and his book contains a mass of useful information on the training of light troops, as well as examples of their work in the field during several campaigns.
Judging by the contents of this treatise, it is more than probable that Sir John Moore had studied it in the original, for Von Ehwald's ideas on discipline and training were identical with those upon which Moore subsequently set to work. Both Von Ehwald and Moore held the opinion that an army which could place in the field large numbers of light troops, so highly trained and disciplined as to be capable of working intelligently in extended order in more or less independent small parties, would be able to outflank, outmanœuvre, and defeat an enemy of superior strength who adhered to close formations. Rapidity of movement, however, and the ability to make good use of ground as well as of their firearms, were essential to the success of light troops, and Moore knew that unless there could be produced a higher standard of discipline than was yet known in the British army, it would be impossible to create light troops of any value. And Moore's ideas of discipline differed somewhat from those of most officers of the time, in that he did not believe in the "mechanical discipline" which made a mere automaton of the soldier, but rather in that "intelligent discipline, best illustrated, perhaps, by a pack of well-trained hounds, running in no order, but, without a straggler, each making good use of his instinct, and following the same object with the same relentless perseverance."[46] In his determination to establish this new form of discipline lay Moore's success, and he always maintained that by no other means than by inculcating the strictest habits of intelligent discipline in all ranks could self-reliance and initiative come natural to a body of troops. Whether he discovered this for himself, or whether he learned it from Von Ehwald, or whether, again, both of them were following the lead of Napoleon, whose skirmishers had already made their mark in European warfare, the fact remains that Sir John Moore was the first person to attempt to apply it to a large number of British soldiers, and he was the first person to succeed.
In the summer of 1803, therefore, Moore commenced work with his famous brigade at Shorncliffe Camp, and he decided to train his brigade as light troops, not in the usual way by extemporising battalions out of light companies detached from various regiments, but by employing whole regiments. For this purpose the 52nd and the 43rd were, in 1803, formed into light infantry regiments, and, together with the newly raised Rifle Corps (95th), handed over to Moore to train. He began at the beginning, and thoroughly overhauled the existing regimental systems; he went deeply into interior economy, and instituted many reforms—so far-reaching and excellent that they have remained almost unaltered to the present day. He insisted that discipline could only be maintained by the officers of all ranks always being in touch with their men, and ever having their welfare at heart. A hard worker himself, he saw that all the officers of his brigade worked hard also; and during the training seasons at Shorncliffe the officers were seldom off duty on week-days, and had to brush up for the General's inspection on Sundays, for Moore did not recognise any necessity for recreation. On one occasion the father of a young officer wrote to the General to say that he proposed to send his son a horse. Moore's reply was characteristic: "that he should be very pleased that the horse should be sent, but that it would be necessary for the father to send with it some one to ride it, for his son would have no time to do so."[47] His first care was to have efficient officers; he watched them carefully, and he got rid of those whom he deemed useless for his purpose, thus laying the foundation-stone of the future building. With good and reliable officers, establishing a chain of responsibility from highest to lowest, with a thorough organisation of battalions on the company system, with non-commissioned officers and men no longer ruled with a rod of iron, but respecting and relying on their officers, Moore began to see his way clear.
His next step was to practise, for a considerable time, drill and movements in close formation—a proof that he was thorough, as well as patient. An ordinary man with a new hobby to ride might have been inclined to slur over, if not scoff at, things which he considered old-fashioned. But Moore had a use for them, because he intended to make his brigade absolutely perfect, and an example to be followed by every other brigade in the British army. His brigade was to be steadier on parade and better drilled than any other, and until he was sure that it was so, he restrained himself from taking the regiments on to their training as light troops. And he had other reasons, for he felt that square drill, practised as a means to an end, was the best discipline for men who were presently to act independently and work out things for themselves. Moreover, he knew that light troops alone would not win a battle, but that they must be supported by well-disciplined bodies of men, moving in close formation and maintaining strict order, until the moment arrived for them to be thrown into the fight.
Sir David Dundas took the greatest interest in all that Moore was doing, and often visited his camp. His drill-book was still the official manual, and, as the first of its kind, was of the greatest value. "There was, however, so much that was rigid, formal, and unnecessary in Dundas's drill that it gained for him the nickname of 'Old Pivot'; while he also made the fatal mistake of distributing the whole science of military evolution into eighteen manœuvres, which were a sad stumbling-block to slow-witted officers. 'General,' said Sir John Moore to him in 1804, 'that book of yours has done a great deal of good, and would be of great value if it were not for those damned eighteen manœuvres.' 'Why—ay,' answered Dundas slowly in broad Scots, 'blockheads don't understand.'"[48] Yet Moore struggled manfully with the eighteen manœuvres, and tried new methods of performing them, before passing on to lighter movements—extended order formations, advanced-guards, rear-guards, and outposts.
Undoubtedly, Moore's opportunity was unique, for his brigade had its place in the defence of England, and it was thought that the French intended to land somewhere near Shorncliffe. Consequently, the brigade was considered to be on active service, and at the same time was being trained for war, a state of affairs which naturally tended to make all ranks keen to acquire military knowledge. There was none of the make-believe of peace training; only a few miles of sea lay between the brigade and the enemy, and on any dark night the French might attempt to effect a landing between the Martello Towers which studded the coast-line. At night, therefore, these towers and three neighbouring forts were fully manned, and outposts covered the camp on the heights above, the sentries being provided with ball ammunition. By day, while a look-out was still maintained by the guards, the brigade was drilled and practised at manœuvring over the country inland; and now and again the order was given to strike camp and march, when, within an hour, the whole brigade loaded up and moved off—with everything complete and ready for active service in any quarter of the globe. All this resulted from the discipline which the General instilled into his regiments, and for three continuous years he had them in his care. So that when, in 1806, he was called away for service in Sicily, he left his brigade in the highest state of discipline, and as light troops certainly superior to any in Europe. The proof of this Moore did not live to see, but his three regiments a few years later formed the Light Division, which throughout the Peninsular War carried all before it.
Moore developed light movements enormously, producing a marvellous elasticity in comparatively large bodies of troops, and under his training whole regiments became as mobile and rapid in manœuvre as previously no company of a regiment had been. To swiftly reach a given point, and there bring as many rifles or muskets as possible into the firing line; to make every officer and man use his own intelligence in carrying out movements; and to impress upon them the necessity for mutual support,—were the chief aims of Moore's training; and he it was who originated for the British army that self-dependent Thin Red Line which so soon was to become the destroyer of Napoleon's deep and massive columns. For it was proved over and over again in the long war which followed, that, with opposing forces of equal numbers, the line two-deep, every man of which was so disciplined as to stand firm, and every man of which had the opportunity of using his rifle or musket, could make short work of the more condensed three-deep line, or of the column which presented a large target, and which at the same time could return the fire only from the muskets of two ranks at the contracted head of the column. It is interesting to note that Colonel Von Ehwald was a strong advocate of the two-deep line both in attack and in defence, for purposes of firing as well as for using the bayonet. "In an attack with charged bayonets," he says, "I am convinced that, if the corps drawn up in two ranks advances resolutely upon the other in three, it will not be worse off for that rank less, as the pressure of one upon the other, of which the French tacticians speak, exists only in the imagination."
Now, the outcome of all this training of light troops was a new fighting formation for the British army. In the first place, Moore had proved that whole regiments could become intelligent and reliable skirmishers, if properly taught; and he had proved, also, that companies, or smaller bodies, of skirmishers, acting independently though at the same time working towards the consummation of a "general idea," were of the highest value when the commanders of skirmishing units were allowed a free hand. Next, Moore had discovered that, with these highly trained bodies of skirmishers out in front, harassing the enemy in every direction, keeping down his fire, and shattering his moral, massive bodies of troops in rear were no longer required. So he instituted the attack formation as follows:—First, the skirmishers in some strength; second, a two-deep line in close order; third, a similar line; and it was with these two lines, always kept in hand, that the coup-de-grâce—in the shape of a withering volley, followed by a bayonet charge—was given, at the moment when the enemy had begun to feel the effects of the bickerings of the skirmishers. But the secret of success in the employment of these shadowy lines against the enemy's columns lay not only in the efficiency of the skirmishers, but also in the superior discipline of the troops behind, who were brought up in line of quarter-columns to within effective range of the position, and then deployed into shoulder to shoulder lines of two ranks. It was for these reasons that Moore drilled his regiments to become equally proficient in close order movements as in skirmishing. Simple as all this may appear nowadays, it was a revolution in fighting methods, and necessitated a vast amount of preliminary training and disciplining; but Moore's system had been carefully watched by the authorities, and so satisfied were they of its soundness, that it was applied as far as possible to all regiments of the army. It took time, but the ultimate result was good, and it was soon found that a new spirit was gradually passing into all ranks.
To sum up the nature of the reforms introduced into the army between 1802 and 1807: we find, to begin with, a marked improvement in the zeal and efficiency of the officers, produced not only by getting rid of the useless ones, but also by the introduction of new regulations relating to the grant of first commissions and subsequent promotion. Thus the minimum age for an ensign was fixed at sixteen,[49] and an officer was required to have served at least three years for promotion to the rank of captain, and seven years to that of major. Next we find the establishment of a new and high code of discipline, as well as of morals, among both officers and men, from which followed a closer union between the one and the other, and a greater regard for the welfare of the soldier on the part of the officer. Again, one uniform system of drill and manœuvre was laid down and rigidly enforced for each arm of the service, for hitherto such matters had been left to the commanding officers of corps. "Such changes," wrote Lord Londonderry,[50] "together with the establishment of hospitals for the wounded and disabled soldiers, and for the education of children whose parents had fallen in the defence of their country, could not fail of producing the most beneficial effect upon the moral of the British army, which, from being an object of something like abhorrence to its own countrymen, and of contempt to the troops of other nations, rose to command, as well as to deserve, the esteem of the former, and the respect and admiration of the latter."
The above is an outline of the somewhat startling ideas connected with military reform which were thrust upon the officers of the 51st on arriving home from Ceylon in the autumn of 1807, and they were not slow to appreciate the situation. Their men were all new to them, as they had brought few back to England, and they realised at once that it would require strenuous efforts on their part to make up the leeway. It speaks well for them that they were not found wanting, and they were fortunate in having a commanding officer[51] capable of rising to the occasion. The necessity of getting into fighting trim with all speed was apparent to every one; for the cloud over Europe still hung low and black, and the British expedition sent to Copenhagen was at the moment destroying the Danish fleet—an act which, it was well known, would increase Napoleon's hatred of England tenfold. And so it proved, for before the end of the year a French army invaded Portugal and entered Lisbon, and Napoleon thus fulfilled his promise of humbling England's ancient ally.
The difficulties encountered by the regiment in learning its new work were increased by constant changes of station; first it was quartered at Chatham, then at Chichester, while early in 1808 it moved to Gosport, and in the spring to Guernsey. There is no doubt that the regimental officers had plenty to do, with parades morning and evening, and with a considerable amount of routine work connected with interior economy. They were up early, as a subaltern of each company had to call the company roll and inspect the rooms immediately after reveille, and they were kept busy until they had seen the men have their dinners at 1 P.M. At three o'clock the officers dined, and turned out for parade afterwards; so they had very little leisure for recreation, though what form of recreation officers and men indulged in at this period is never made very clear. Some of the officers hunted and shot, but outdoor games, as we know them now, had not come into fashion. Cricket and football were in their infancy, and had not reached the army; nor were there any organised athletic sports; and, in all probability, the only games played by the men were skittles, and a kind of "fives" in what was termed the "ball alley." Only by marching were the soldiers kept in good condition, for it had not yet been discovered that there was a value in wholesome recreation.
By the spring of 1808 the 51st was a regiment again, but in the matter of dress quite a different regiment to that which left Lisbon for India ten years before; for the uniform of the army had undergone alterations, and the mode of dressing the hair had changed. The "queue," which had taken the place of the "club" in 1799, and which was at first ten inches in length, was now shortened to seven inches, and was tied, a little below the upper part of the collar of the coat, with a black bow,[52] so that one inch of hair remained free at the end; the men's coiffure, however, being no longer powdered white. The officers still wore powdered hair and cocked hats of considerable size, sometimes putting them on even with the shoulders, at other times fore and aft; but for the men a new head-dress had been devised, and this took the form of a cylindrical shako, with a brass plate in front and above it a red and white tuft coming out of a black cockade. The red coat had changed its shape, and was buttoned up tight to the waist, the lapels, in the case of the officers' coats, reaching right down, and being so made that they could be buttoned across to form a double-breasted coat, or thrown back to show the lining of facing cloth—something after the fashion of the front of the present lancer tunic. The officers also wore very high and roomy collars, to admit the large black neckcloth, which was now much affected. And thus turned out, the whole regiment was undoubtedly as smart as could be,—but what was better, the officers and men were efficient soldiers.
In the meanwhile, events on the Continent had gone from bad to worse, and Napoleon, not content with the occupation of Portugal, had thrown off his alliance with Spain, marched on Madrid, and transferred his brother Joseph from the throne of Naples to that of Spain. England at once rose to the occasion, decided to free Portugal and Spain from the French yoke, and forthwith launched an expedition of about 25,000 men for the purpose. The 51st, having so recently returned from foreign service, was not included in the expeditionary force, which landed, on the 1st August (1808), on the Portuguese coast, near the mouth of the Mondego river, and commenced the advance on Lisbon. On the 16th the French were first encountered at Obidos, where a slight skirmish took place, and on the following day Sir Arthur Wellesley fought and won the battle of Roliça.[53] Without entering into the details of this the first campaign of the Peninsular War, we may mention that the British and Portuguese routed the French at Vimiera on the 21st August, and before the end of the month the enemy, by the Convention of Cintra, agreed to evacuate Portugal. After this the British army occupied Lisbon, and prepared for operations against the French in Spain.
While these events were in progress, the 51st, chafing at having been left behind, were moved from Guernsey to Chichester, and before long had the satisfaction of receiving their orders for active service.
After the occupation of Lisbon, Sir Arthur Wellesley, deeming it improbable that the army would resume operations for some months, went home on leave of absence; and, a little later, Sir John Moore was given command of the British forces in Portugal. In October he received despatches from Government wherein he was informed that it had been decided to send Sir David Baird, with 10,000 men, to Corunna, and Moore was instructed to take the 20,000 British troops from Lisbon, and to form a junction with him forthwith, when, together with the Spanish army, he was to attack the French and drive them out of Spain.
To carry out his orders Moore had a choice of routes; he could transport his force by sea to Corunna, or he could march through Portugal and Spain. The former plan he rejected, as being likely to cause delay; for, with sailing vessels and at such a season of the year, it was impossible to estimate the length of time that the voyage would occupy. He decided, therefore, to adopt the land route, knowing that, if necessary, he could send his ships up the coast to some port, which would then become his base, instead of Lisbon. Accordingly, he desired Baird to march south-east to meet him at a point to be afterwards named, probably either Valladolid or Burgos, but the exact spot depending on the movements of the French.
Nearly three months before this the 51st had been warned for active service, and on the 18th August marched from Chichester to Portsmouth, where the regiment embarked in three transports, to join Sir David Baird's force, then assembling at Falmouth for some undisclosed destination. The regiment, mustering six hundred bayonets, was in fine fettle, and Captain Sam Rice was in command of the light infantry company. But eager as he and his brother officers were to get to business, they were forced to possess their souls in patience, for they were kept on board their transports for upwards of two months, with little or nothing to do, except to discuss the object of the expedition, their knowledge of which was vague in the extreme. As far as the soldiers were concerned, they were jubilant, and from a cause which nowadays may seem trivial. The order had gone forth that their hair was no longer to be "tied," but cut short at the neck! At length the long weeks of waiting came to an end, and on the 8th October Baird's fleet of transports sailed from Falmouth, five days later anchoring off Corunna. But even then further delays occurred, as the Spanish officials objected to the landing of the force, and it was another fortnight before the disembarkation was completed.
To return to Moore. Before the end of October he had set his troops in motion, but his arrangements were much upset by the reports of the state of the roads which he wished to utilise for his march. So bad were they said to be, that he considered it advisable to divide his force and move by two routes; and before long he had reason to be anxious about the safety of his detached columns, for the situation was undergoing a change. At the time of his departure from Lisbon, Moore had every reason to believe that the Spanish troops, aided by the British forces under himself and Baird, would be able to deal a heavy blow to the French invaders, and in this belief he was supported by the knowledge that King Joseph, fearful of the impending attack, had withdrawn from Madrid to the neighbourhood of Vittoria, where he concentrated the French army on the Ebro. But Moore did know that at this very time Napoleon was pouring reinforcements over the Pyrenees in such quantities as to bring the strength of the French in Spain up to some 250,000 men.
Napoleon had determined to secure Spain and Portugal at all costs; and, placing himself at the head of the reinforcements, early in November defeated a Spanish force which attempted to bar his way, and advanced rapidly to Burgos. Thence he pushed a corps to the Carrion river, to protect his right flank from the British, while he moved on Madrid. In the meantime, Moore's main body was marching, viâ Ciudad Rodrigo, on Salamanca; while Hope, with the cavalry, artillery, and ammunition, had been sent by the circuitous route, Badajoz, Talavera, Madrid, Escorial Pass, to rejoin Moore at Salamanca, Valladolid, Burgos, or elsewhere, according to orders to be issued to him later.
On the 15th November Moore reached Salamanca, and learned that the French had already occupied Valladolid. Consequently he decided to wait at Salamanca until Baird and Hope could join him. But the two latter had met with great difficulties in the matter of transport, and had been delayed beyond all expectations, so that on the 26th November the head of Baird's column had got no farther than Astorga, five marches north-west of Salamanca, and Hope was at the Escorial Pass, six marches south-east of Salamanca. On that same day Lefebre's French Corps, of 30,000 men, was approaching Valladolid, barely three marches north-east of Salamanca, while Napoleon himself, marching on Madrid, was at Arauda, some sixty miles as the crow flies due east of Valladolid. Fortunately for the divided British forces, Napoleon was in ignorance of their whereabouts; neither, on the other hand, was Moore aware of the exact situation of the French, until two days later, when both he and Hope were informed of Napoleon's proximity.
Hope realised at once that he must risk everything in the attempt to take his artillery and ammunition to Moore at Salamanca; while the latter, after sending orders to Baird to retire on Corunna or Vigo, decided to wait as long as possible for Hope, and then, retracing his steps into Portugal, defend the frontier and cover Lisbon. Fortune favoured Hope, who, making a desperate cross-country march, successfully formed a junction with Moore at Salamanca, whereupon Moore changed his plans. He had heard that the Spaniards intended to defend Madrid to the last, and, in order to assist them in their endeavour, he determined on a bold stroke. He saw that Napoleon's vast army was, like some beast of prey, sprawled out over the provinces of Spain and crawling forward with open jaws within measurable distance of Madrid; he saw the hopelessness of trying conclusions with a beast ten times his own strength, but he knew that if he suddenly dealt a furious blow on the beast's tail the beast would spring round and attempt to rend him. This, then, was Sir John Moore's idea when, at the beginning of December, he made up his mind to strike at Napoleon's line of communications, which stretched back to the Pyrenees. He calculated that Napoleon would immediately turn upon him with all his strength, and the Spanish and Portuguese forces would thus be given time to collect for the defence of their respective capitals. His own subsequent line of action he had also worked out carefully: having dealt his blow, and having succeeded in bringing the bulk of the French army against him, he would draw off his little force to Corunna or Vigo, and at one or the other place embark and sail to Lisbon or Cadiz.
Fresh orders were therefore despatched to Baird, who had meanwhile retired from Astorga, three marches to Villafranca. In these he was instructed to advance towards Valladolid, and on the 11th December Moore moved towards the same place, reaching the river Douro on the 13th. Here a French despatch was intercepted, and from it Moore discovered the true state of affairs. Napoleon had captured Madrid nine days before, had despatched Lefebre towards Lisbon and his other corps in various directions, and now ordered Soult to move his corps from the Carrion river westward into Galicia. It was also evident, from this French despatch, that Napoleon had no knowledge of the movements of the British, and that Soult's corps was without support and of no great strength. So Moore decided to strike at Soult forthwith, and, with this object, arranged with Baird to join forces at Mayorga, instead of at Valladolid, at the same time instructing his ships at Lisbon to proceed up the coast to Vigo, and giving orders for the establishment of supply depôts along the route by which he intended eventually to withdraw to the ships.
Upon receipt of these orders Baird advanced again to Astorga and, on the 20th December, joined Moore at Mayorga. He took with him all available battalions, but some were still in rear, since the Spanish authorities had been unable to provide transport or provisions on the road for any but small bodies of troops moving at intervals of some days. The 51st Regiment, forming part of Leith's Brigade, was still far behind, and did not come into the zone of operations until the eventual retreat was in full swing. Moore, however, now had sufficient men for his purpose, for he knew that Soult's force was in numbers inferior to his own; and the operations at once commenced by a brilliant cavalry action, in which Paget, with 400 British sabres, routed 600 of the French cavalry at Sahagun. Soult was now known to be at Saldanha and Carrion, and Moore decided to halt his force for forty-eight hours in order to allow the rear divisions to close up, and then to attack at dawn on the 24th December. On the night of the 23rd-24th the troops set out on the march which was to bring them at daylight before the bridge of Carrion, but they had not marched far before they received the unwelcome order to retrace their steps and return to their bivouacs at Sahagun. Moore had received information which upset all his calculations; the scheme which he had devised for drawing Napoleon's armies after him had worked only too successfully, for he learned that Napoleon was already in full march upon him, and that within a few hours the situation of the British army might become critical. He determined, therefore, to abandon the attack on Soult and endeavour to carry out his original programme by withdrawing to his ships before Napoleon's masses should fall upon him. That Christmas day was spent by the disappointed army in making the second march of the long and arduous retreat to Corunna.
Napoleon, as was his wont when once his mind was made up, came like a thunderbolt. On the 21st December, at the head of 40,000 men and 150 guns, he left Madrid, and, although he had to negotiate high mountain passes, often blocked with snow, he marched a hundred miles in less than five days, reaching Tordesillas, on the Douro, on the 25th December, and having his advanced cavalry well ahead of him on the way to Benevente. He firmly believed that he and Soult had now ringed-in Moore's force, which he imagined to be still at Sahagun. But Moore, leaving only his cavalry and the two light brigades of infantry at that place, had slipped away in the nick of time and had crossed the Esla by the 26th without serious molestation. On the following day the British cavalry fought long and gallantly and completely checked the pursuit; on the 28th Craufurd's light, or flank, brigade covered the withdrawal of the cavalry over the Esla by the bridge of Castro Gonzalo and then blew up the bridge; and on the 29th the cavalry again covered themselves with glory by defeating a strong body of French horsemen who had succeeded in fording the river.
On that day Moore's columns, which had been marching by two different routes, re-united at Astorga, and there the soldiers felt convinced that they would be called upon to halt and fight, since they knew that Moore had told the Spanish general that he would make a stand at Astorga, and they saw 10,000 Spaniards come into the place. But Moore had given up all idea of offering battle until he had reached the coast and was within sight of his ships. His men had already suffered from the hard marching in pouring rain and in snow, and along bad roads ankle-deep in mud; provisions were becoming scanty, and the General considered it advisable to push on with all speed to Villafranca and Lugo, where large supply depôts had been formed. On the 30th December he rested his troops at Astorga, and by the 31st both British and Spaniards were clear of the place, which was entered within thirty-six hours by the infantry of Napoleon and Soult, coming from La Baneza, where they had joined hands in the closing hours of 1808.
The new year opened on 25,000 dispirited, and even sullen, British soldiers marching through the snow-laden passes, and unable to understand why they should not turn and fight. Discipline became lax; the men broke the ranks in search of plunder and drink; and the stragglers were only kept on the move by the exertions of the cavalry of the rearguard.
Yet Moore had outwitted Napoleon, who, in sheer disgust at having failed to cut off his adversary, halted two days at Benevente, handed over the pursuit to Soult, and himself returned to Paris—not again to encounter British troops in the field until the eventful day when his fate was sealed at Waterloo. His deputy, however, took up the work with zeal and alacrity, and pressed forward to Astorga as rapidly as possible.
The horrors of the retreat of the British army after leaving Astorga have been so often described that it is needless to refer to them further than to say that, with the exception of some dozen regiments, the troops were completely demoralised and out of hand. Moore's feelings of bitterness can be well understood, for here, almost at the first trial, the discipline which he had assiduously preached throughout his service had completely broken down. But this condition of affairs existed only among the troops of the main body, for the regiments forming the rearguard (which included the three which he had personally trained at Shorncliffe) behaved throughout with conspicuous gallantry and prevented Soult's pursuing force from overwhelming the disorganised army.
Passing through Bembibre and Villafranca, Moore reached Lugo after forced marching from which the men were worn out, and here he decided to halt in order to enable the stragglers to come up, and, if necessary, give battle. This, in a measure, raised the spirits of the army, as the men far preferred the prospects of a fierce fight to those of an immediate continuance of retreat. But, perhaps, the greatest check to the demoralisation which had set in was the fact that, at Lugo, Moore had the satisfaction of finding a most welcome addition to his force in Leith's Brigade of 1800 fresh men, who had not been harassed by the arduous marches of the past week, and with Leith's Brigade, as has been already mentioned, was the 51st Regiment and Captain Sam Rice.
At Lugo, therefore, on the 6th January 1809, Moore took up a strong position, and all ranks, full of hopes of being speedily attacked, fell into their places with evident delight. That same evening the rearguard came into Lugo, and on the following morning Soult appeared. But he felt his way with caution, and soon learned that the force opposed to him was not merely the rearguard, which had always been keeping him back, but Moore's whole army. Making a feint attack on the Guards' Brigade on the right of the position, he moved a division against the left, which was held by Leith's Brigade. The fight soon began in earnest; Soult's guns opened on the advanced piquets of the 76th Regiment, which then fell back on the 51st, when the two regiments began to use their muskets with vigour. At this moment Moore himself was an eye-witness of what was taking place, and realising that Leith's men were greatly outnumbered by their assailants, yet knowing that he could spare no troops to reinforce them, galloped up to the 51st, and, appealing to his old regiment to stand firm, placed himself at their head. The response was immediate and unanimous. With a wild cheer the men emptied their muskets at the enemy, then, without hesitation, charged home, and drove the French before them at the point of the bayonet. The day was saved, and the enemy, with a loss of some three hundred men, drew off.
But this gallant action, which received the well-merited praise of the General, produced a state of affairs such as Moore least desired; for Soult feared to attack the position again until he should receive reinforcements from the rear. Throughout the 8th January the British army remained in its position, expectant and ready, with its officers and soldiers prepared to stake everything on the issue of the hoped-for battle. Yet the day passed without a sign of a French advance, and towards evening Moore's spirits fell, for he guessed that Soult was waiting for reinforcements. At first he thought of turning on his adversary while he was still weak, but he came to the conclusion that the risk was too great; on the other hand, to remain where he was until Soult should consider himself strong enough to renew the attack would be suicidal. Therefore, he saw but one way open to him—viz., to slip away from the position and continue the retreat to the coast; and, his mind made up, he issued his orders for the march. Destroying such stores and horses as would hinder their progress, and leaving their bivouac fires burning in order to deceive the enemy, the disheartened troops evacuated the position in the dead of night. Fortune was against them all through the night; rain fell in torrents, and the inky darkness made it impossible for them to see their way, so that, by dawn, instead of having put fifteen miles between themselves and the enemy, many benighted battalions, after marching all night, found themselves but five miles from their starting-point, and yet thoroughly exhausted. But Soult did not discover that his enemy had gone until late next morning, and even then he appears to have been unwilling to push the pursuit as rapidly as he might have done.
Continuing the retreat in wretched weather, Moore's troops suffered every manner of hardship and privation, but on reaching Betanzos, on the morning of the 10th January, matters began to improve. The columns were still well covered by the rearguard, who kept the French at a distance; the sea was within sight, and the climate and weather improved considerably. Moreover, provisions had been sent forward from Corunna to Betanzos, and the half-starved men received ample food; so that, seeing all their troubles at an end, they made the last march to Corunna, on the 11th, with light hearts. But Moore had no such feelings, for he had received the depressing news that his ships, which he had ordered to come round from Vigo to Corunna, and which he had expected to find in the harbour, had been delayed by stress of weather. Doubtful for how long he would have to wait, and within how short a time Soult would be able to bring overwhelming force against him, the General prepared for the worst, making all arrangements to fight, as well as for the immediate embarkation of his army so soon as the ships should arrive. The bridges outside Corunna were blown up, and all stores, munitions of war, and horses, which he would not be able to remove, Moore caused to be destroyed.