On the 14th January the ships entered the harbour, and the embarkation of the sick and wounded, guns, cavalry horses, and transport animals was proceeded with as quickly as possible. Meanwhile Soult began to press in, and Moore, seeing that he could not expect to embark all his troops without a fight, selected a defensive position some two miles outside Corunna. The four days' rest, with good food, had had a wonderful effect on his men; the stragglers had come in; fresh arms and ammunition had been supplied from the ample stores at Corunna; the sickly men had been sent to the ships; and the General found that he still had 15,000 determined infantry soldiers and nine guns wherewith to withstand Soult's onslaught. All the morning of the 16th the French were seen to be massing in front of the position, but Soult apparently still feared to attack, and Moore, thinking that he would not do so, gave orders for the embarkation to continue. Yet, an hour later, Soult's guns suddenly opened, and his columns dashed forward. Moore, overjoyed at the sight, and sure of victory, saw before him a great and glorious finale to the painful scenes which he had witnessed during the previous weeks, and rode from point to point of the field, giving his orders with calmness, and inspiring confidence in all directions. For some time the battle raged furiously; the French were as eager for the fray as were the British; here and there the latter were forced to give way, but re-forming rapidly, turned again, and recovered the lost ground. At length, the issue of the fight was no longer doubtful; the French were driven back on all sides; the order for a general advance of the victorious British line was given, and was being carried out, when Moore fell mortally wounded, and Baird was also struck. Confusion followed, further orders remained unissued, and when Hope, the next senior, took command, it was too late to continue the struggle. Prudence demanded that he should withdraw the army and embark before the French could recover and return to the attack, and under cover of darkness the whole of the British force, save only the outposts, were withdrawn from the position, and embarked. That night and the following day were spent in getting every one on board, and by the 18th January the last of the troops covering the embarkation quitted Corunna for England, Soult's guns opening on the ships as they put to sea.

Thus ended Moore's last campaign, and those who knew nothing of the General's original plan considered the retreat to have been a disastrous flight, yet Moore's plan succeeded completely. He drew Napoleon and 70,000 men away from the south and saved Lisbon from a French occupation, which was the most that he ever expected to do. The amount of hardship which his troops would have to endure in the withdrawal to the coast, perhaps he had not anticipated; but, had he lived, doubtless he would have claimed that the result was well worth the sacrifice, and if, moreover, the victory over Soult at Corunna had been completed, few would have been found to cavil at his plans and operations.

The part played by the 51st in the battle of Corunna, though small, was not unimportant. The regiment stood in second line to the left rear of Elvina, opposite to which village the fiercest of the fighting took place, and where Moore received his death-wound. Considering its position, its losses were not heavy, only amounting to some five-and-twenty men—mostly wounded. Neither did the regiment suffer to such an extent in casualties during the actual retreat as did most other regiments of Baird's original force; and if, as has been maintained, want of discipline was accountable for heavy losses during the retreat, then the officers of the 51st had good reason to be proud of the discipline of their corps. Their three months' absence from England, however, had lowered their numbers by 107 men, and many gallant officers and soldiers suffered from the effects of the hardships of this campaign to the end of their days. Sam Rice, although he came out of it unscathed, was an invalid for some months afterwards, and was unable to pass the doctors when his regiment was next sent on active service. Yet, for this he must have remained ever thankful, for the expedition in which the 51st took part in the autumn of 1809 was, as will be shown, productive of nothing except death and disease.

On disembarking in England after Corunna, the regiment was assembled at Sandown Barracks, and in April marched into Devonshire, being quartered first at Kingsbridge and then at Berryhead. In May it received the honour of the title of Light Infantry, probably as a reward for its good services in the Corunna campaign, and probably also as a memorial to Sir John Moore, the exponent of everything pertaining to light infantry, and the former commanding officer of the regiment. The 71st was made a light infantry regiment about the same time, but previous to that there had only been four regiments in the British army so designated, and as light infantry they considered themselves superior to all other regiments of the line. As such they wore a distinctive uniform, which was much like that of the old light infantry company; and their special duties on active service were to be always in front of the army, gaining and keeping touch with the enemy, fighting advanced- or rear-guard actions when on the march, and forming a chain of outposts round the army when halted.

The spring and early summer of 1809 were spent by the 51st in recruiting the regiment up to fighting strength, for when, in April, Sir Arthur Wellesley returned to Portugal to continue the war, it was not sufficiently strong to form part of the expedition. By July, however, this difficulty had been overcome, for the stories told of the Corunna campaign had roused the fighting spirit of the country, and vast numbers of militiamen volunteered into the line. But when, in this month, the 51st received a fresh call to arms, it was not for Portugal, but for Holland, an expedition having been fitted out for the purpose of destroying the French fleet and arsenals in the Scheldt. Sam Rice, who had just given up the command of his company on promotion to Major, did not accompany the regiment on this service, but remained in command of the depôt at Berryhead Barracks.

The Walcheren Expedition, as it was called, proved a complete failure. Operations commenced satisfactorily, and Flushing was bombarded and captured in August; but, owing to misunderstanding between the military and naval commanders (the Earl of Chatham and Sir Richard Strachan), the enemy was not pursued with energy, and the troops (some 40,000 in number) were kept idle on the island of Walcheren, until fever decimated their ranks. In September the greater part of the misdirected expedition returned to England, and for several months afterwards the men continued to die from Walcheren fever. The unfortunate circumstances gave rise to the following caustic epigram:—

"Lord Chatham, with his sabre drawn,

Stood waiting for Sir Richard Strachan;

Sir Richard, longing to be at 'em,

Stood waiting for the Earl of Chatham."

So far the regiment's experiences of European warfare had not been pleasant. Within a year it had taken part in two campaigns, in each of which, although it had acquitted itself honourably, it had sustained weighty losses. Unlike many other regiments, the 51st had no second battalion upon which to draw to replace casualties, and consequently it was not fit to proceed on active service in the Peninsula until the end of 1810.

Meanwhile, Sir Arthur Wellesley, in supreme command of the allied armies, had been actively engaged with the enemy from month to month, and had won several hard-fought battles. He successfully frustrated Soult's invasion of Portugal by defeating him on the Douro, in May 1809, and driving him out of Oporto. He gained a signal victory over Marshal Victor at Talavera, in July; and thence retreated for the winter to the banks of the Agueda river, between Almeida and Ciudad Rodrigo. In 1810 Lord Wellington (as he now was) had for his opponent Marshal Massena, who had been ordered to invade Portugal (while Soult directed his attentions to Badajoz), and who, in June, commenced operations by investing Ciudad Rodrigo, then held by a Spanish garrison. Capturing that fortress in July, Massena advanced on the neighbouring Portuguese fortress of Almeida, which also fell into his hands, Wellington's advanced troops—the Light Division—being forced back behind the Coa river after a desperate combat. In September, however, Wellington encountered his adversary at Busaco, thoroughly defeated him, and then withdrew rapidly to the impregnable lines of Torres Vedras, which, with great foresight, he had caused to be thrown up in front of Lisbon. Massena, ignorant of their existence, and imagining that Wellington was retreating for immediate embarkation, pressed forward for the capture of the Portugese capital, but only to find his way barred by a series of strong fortifications. Behind these defences the British army remained unmolested throughout the winter, while the French, withdrawing to a safe distance, sat down to await the coming of spring. This, then, was the situation in Portugal when the 51st Regiment, quartered at Steyning Barracks, received orders to join Wellington's army in the Peninsula; and by this time Major Sam Rice was ready to be up and doing.


CHAPTER VIII.
CAMPAIGNS OF 1811 IN THE PENINSULA.

In January 1811 the 51st embarked at Portsmouth for Lisbon in three of His Majesty's ships, one of which (the Danemark), having on board three companies under Major Rice, separated from the fleet during a heavy gale, but eventually reached its destination on the 19th February. Lieut.-Colonel Mainwaring was in command of the regiment, which left Lisbon early in March to join Wellington's army, then advancing from the lines of Torres Vedras in pursuit of Massena, who, with the break-up of the winter, had secretly withdrawn from his cantonments about Santarem, leaving dummy sentries on outpost duty, in order to deceive the British. But the ruse succeeded for only a few hours, for the officers of the Light Division, who, from across the Rio Mayor, had been watching the enemy throughout the winter, detected the men of straw through their "spy-glasses," reported that the French were in full retreat, and immediately took up the pursuit. Almost at once they were on the heels of Ney's rearguard, engaged it at Pombal on the 11th March, and at Redinha on the 12th, and fought again at Cazal Novo and Foz de Aronce[54] on the 14th and 15th; but Ney, who knew his business only too well, never suffered himself to become seriously embarrassed, his force always melting away at the opportune moment, much to the disgust of his pursuers.

The young soldiers, of whom the 51st was now largely composed, made an early acquaintance with the horrors of war, for a very few marches brought them into the country through which the French army had recently retreated, and signs of cruelty to the Portuguese inhabitants and of wanton destruction of property were visible everywhere. Villagers, deprived of all that they possessed, were left to die of starvation; and towns and villages were ruthlessly set on fire. Leyria was still in flames when the 51st passed through it, and the road onwards was "broadly marked by the putrefying carcases of dead French soldiers stretched beside the wreck accumulated by their wanton, shameful outrages." The regiment joined Wellington's army at the village of Carripinar, and on the 19th March the whole force, except the two divisions still in close pursuit of the enemy, assembled at Moita, where a halt of some days was made, in order to obtain supplies from Lisbon. On the 28th March a forward movement brought the troops to Celorico, when the 51st took its place in the 7th Division (Major-General Houston), and on the following day marched out with the centre column for the attack on Guarda. The enemy, however, made no attempt to defend the town, but withdrew at once, with the loss of a considerable number of prisoners.

Still retreating rapidly, Massena took up a position behind the Coa, and at Sabugal, on the 3rd April, Wellington attacked him with great success, utterly defeating him, and two days later forcing him to cross the frontier into Spain. Wellington then commenced the investment of Almeida, a Portuguese frontier fortress in possession of the French, while Massena, unable to feed his army on the country, retired to Salamanca. All April was spent by the British force in the vicinity of Almeida, and the following extract from a letter written by Major Rice on the 16th of the month, from "Villa Mayor, upon a branch of the Coa, and near Almeida," will help to show how the situation appeared to the regimental officer:—

"As you will have heard of all our operations since Massena's flight, which was tolerably rapid, it would be useless for me to attempt a recapitulation, whose only merit would consist in incorrectness and stupidity. You will see by the public documents that no general action has taken place, though much skirmishing with the advance, which has always been to its credit and gallantry. Had the gentlemen—I mean the French—not been so very swift of foot, the business would have been most decisive and glorious for those concerned, as well as for the nation at large. The chase has been given these several days. It is indeed even reported they have quitted Salamanca. The whole of our army is now concentrated between Almeida and Ciudad Rodrigo—fortresses in possession of the enemy which still hold out. How they are to be disposed of is all a secret, but of this and all other matters of real importance you will be better informed at home than I am here. The whole tract of country passed by us since we left Lisbon is completely devastated—scarce a village or town that has not been fired by the French. The beautiful city of Leyria, with its convents and churches, has been made a dreadful example of—immense and valuable libraries all committed to the flames. For a collector of old and mutilated manuscripts and parchments there was a fine field, for they were kicking and blowing about in all directions. The poor, half-famished inhabitants literally vegetate in the fields,—a sight more distressing than any I have yet witnessed, and I thought till then that I had been pretty familiar with every species of human misery. It does not do to moralise, for such things are the consequence of warfare, but I do verily believe that never before was it conducted with so much barbarism—au part des Français,—the bare details of which shock the most obdurate and unfeeling heart. Lord Wellington and staff have just passed us. He is going to the side of Badajoz. Something, I conclude, of importance has transpired that calls his attention in the Alentejo. What is now to be done is mere matter of speculation; time, as in everything, will discover. We are horribly fed, sometimes three or four days without bread."

Again, on the 23rd April, he wrote from the same place:—

"Still stationary; nothing whatever has transpired of any moment in this quarter since my last advice. Almeida continues invested; what is to be the result, as I said before, I am ignorant of. It is, however, pretty clear that no operations have as yet begun as to indicate the intention of a siege. One would suppose that something must shortly be attempted, unless Lord Wellington is informed as to the positive provisionment of the garrison, by which the trouble and the loss of heads may be spared. The French are friendly, and give us no trouble. They occupy a position on the Agueda with a corps of 4000 men—merely, I conclude, as a reconnaissance from the main body of the army, which is at Salamanca and in cantonments in the neighbourhood, or it may be further, from what I know, so little do we hear.

"His lordship we have heard nothing of since his departure for the Alentejo. Some serious errors have been committed, to the full extent of which we remain in the dark. Much anxiety is, of course, expressed. I trust things will not prove so bad as report makes them, as any little reverse gives encouragement to our friends. A squadron of the 13th was surprised and taken near Badajoz lately; it was acting as a picket to a division of our army; the consequence was so far serious that the French cavalry pushed through the cantonments of the infantry, who, supposing themselves in security, were totally unprepared, and gaped (wide enough, I daresay) at the sight. A loss of a few ears, arms, old hats, &c., I conclude, took place, though as yet no details of the reverse have arrived. It is a d—d bad business, and won't bear telling.

"What a gallant business at Cadiz! Is it not a pity so much good blood should be spilled for those dastardly Spaniards? Ought not now those zealous English fools in the cause of Spain to be sickened, or do they want another bloody fight, by way of ascertaining if British soldiers will fight? The game of Spain must be up. Of this country (Portugal) I shall not yet talk, though its ultimate fate cannot but be foreseen. But I must not discuss politics. The weather is here dreadfully cold and unpleasant, though you will scarce believe it from our geographical situation. Guarda, from which we are distant but five leagues, is supposed to be one of the highest cities in Europe, so of our atmosphere I leave you to judge. Hunger, misery, and grumbling is the order of the day."

Wellington's departure for the Alentejo and the events in the neighbourhood of Badajoz, to which Rice refers in the above letters, had been occasioned by the fact that while the pursuit of Massena was being carried out, Soult, who had assembled a powerful army in the south of Spain, advanced rapidly, and after defeating the Spaniards, detached Mortier to besiege the fortress of Badajoz, held by a Spanish garrison. On the 11th March the latter ignominiously surrendered, and the French, having secured Badajoz, moved on and captured Campo Mayor. A week later, Wellington, seeing no chance of drawing Massena into a general engagement, and thus feeling confident that he could spare a portion of his force, despatched Marshal Beresford with two divisions of infantry and some cavalry and artillery towards Campo Mayor. That fortress was reached on the 25th March, but the enemy did not await the arrival of the British, who, seeing the French in full retreat towards Badajoz, pushed on, and after a brilliant cavalry charge captured the enemy's convoy, only, however, to lose it again by rashly pursuing too far and coming under the fire of the guns of the fortress.

Early in April, Beresford began the investment of Badajoz, but so many difficulties, real or imaginary, lay in his way that before the investment could be completed the French had ample time to provision the place and repair its defences. It was on the 7th April that the incident of the capture of a squadron of the 13th occurred, and Napier says of it that the French general, with 3000 infantry, 500 cavalry, and four guns, "surprised a squadron of the 13th, which was in front, and then came so close up to the main body as to exchange shots; yet he was permitted to retire unmolested, in the face of more than 20,000 men!" Napier attaches no blame to the 13th Light Dragoons for what occurred, but rather extols their gallantry. Of the supineness and inactivity of Beresford in all these operations he has, however, much to say; and Rice's remarks point to the fact that camp rumours were for once tolerably accurate.

With Wellington's arrival in front of Badajoz on the 21st April new life was put into the operations, for he gave orders to prosecute the siege with all vigour before Soult could come to the succour of the garrison. Requisites for the siege, however, were not forthcoming in sufficient quantities, for although guns, ammunition, and entrenching tools had been ordered up from Lisbon, the transport for their conveyance was hopelessly inadequate. Yet the engineer officers set to work to mark out the trenches, and were preparing to break ground, when Wellington received information from his northern army which necessitated his immediate return to the neighbourhood of Almeida. Leaving instructions, therefore, with Beresford to delay the siege of Badajoz for the time being, he hurried north, to find, on his arrival, that Massena's activity was causing considerable anxiety, for it was known that the French marshal was advancing in strength to raise the blockade of Almeida.

By the 28th April Wellington was back with his army, and taking in the situation at once, decided to give battle between the Agueda and the Coa. Massena conducted his operations much as his adversary had foreseen that he would do, and within the week was fought the battle of Fuentes d'Onor,[55] on ground midway between Ciudad Rodrigo and Almeida.

Hereabouts the river system is somewhat intricate, no fewer than five considerable streams flowing, in almost parallel channels, from south to north. On the east the Agueda flows close by the walls of Ciudad Rodrigo; westward of the Agueda are its tributaries, the Azava, the Duas Casas, and the Turon; and a little to the west of Almeida is the Coa—all within a space of thirty miles, and for the most part unfordable. As early as the 24th April Massena had pushed forward his advanced troops from Ciudad Rodrigo, with the object of seizing the crossings of the Azava, but the British outposts on that river drove them back, and continued to hold the river line, until Wellington arrived and selected a position behind the Duas Casas, when the outposts gradually fell back and allowed the French to advance. This they did on the 2nd May, and, on the 3rd, succeeded in crossing the Duas Casas at one point and capturing the village of Fuentes. They did not, however, remain long in possession, for after a fierce fight the British drove them out and forced them back across the Duas Casas.

Next day, Massena moved forward with 5000 cavalry and 40,000 infantry, and Wellington made some alterations in his dispositions, so that his front now extended for a distance of some seven miles. By this new arrangement, the 7th Division (to which the 51st belonged) was placed on the extreme right, near the hill of Nava de Avel, opposite to which the French appeared to be massing in strength. On the morning of the 5th May Massena pushed on, and simultaneously attacked the village of Fuentes and the right of the British position. The 7th Division, outnumbered, were forced back, but the Light Division and the cavalry hastened to its support, and restored the fight. Wellington, now observing that his right was in imminent danger of being turned, ordered the 7th Division to draw in, and the Light Division covered the withdrawal in a magnificent manner. The enemy's strong force of cavalry made strenuous efforts to crush this portion of the line, and what immediately occurred is best described in the words of Napier. "The Light Division," he says, "was thrown into squares; the Seventh Division, which was more advanced, endeavoured to do the same, but the horsemen were too quick upon them, and some were cut down; the remainder stood firm, and the Chasseurs Britannique ranged behind a loose stone wall poured such a fire that the French recoiled and seemed bewildered."

According to all accounts, the battle scene at this phase of the fight was a most picturesque one. The vast plain was covered with charging bodies of horsemen, who once and again endeavoured to break the squares, which, nothing daunted, met the onslaught, and leisurely retired. But the grandest sight of all on that memorable day was perhaps that presented by Norman Ramsay's two-horse artillery guns, which, hemmed in and cut off by the enemy's cavalry, saved themselves, not by their fire, but by cleaving their way at full gallop through the astonished French horsemen. This was, however, but one incident of many in a day of great deeds, and for a long while the issue of the fight hung in the balance. Failing to effect his purpose on the British right, Massena directed his attention to the capture of the village of Fuentes; but at this point also his troops were eventually beaten back, and at nightfall the British and French sentries, separated only by the breadth of the Duas Casas, agreed to take water from the river without molestation—a tacit agreement which always existed in Peninsular warfare between the veterans of the opposing armies.

Considering the critical situation in which the 7th Division was for so long placed, the casualties in the 51st on this day were remarkably few—only half a dozen wounded. In the briefest of letters Sam Rice described the events in which he had taken part as senior major of the regiment. "We have suffered little," he wrote, "though the first attack was made on our regiment by a body of cavalry, who came up to the charge, but were soon convinced that we were not to be trifled with. I am well and safe. I had an 'all-but,' having my cap whisked off by a three-pounder, but received no other injury than a temporary stunning from the concussion. The French again menaced us this morning, but it has since proved a mere manœuvre, and they are off, and we prepared to follow. I literally have not time to say more."

This was written on the day after the battle, and it is possible that the writer was too sick at heart to say more; for something had occurred, as will be disclosed a little later on, which must have caused endless regret to every officer of the regiment who came out of action. They were not, however, given much time to brood over their misfortune, for on the 10th May Massena gave up the attempt to reach Almeida, and withdrew his army beyond the Agueda, when he was relieved of his command by Marmont. That same night, Brenier, in command of Almeida, seeing that there was now no hope of succour reaching him, resolved on a bold stroke. Having destroyed the guns of the fortress, he marshalled the garrison, and, in one solid mass, at dead of night, broke through the blockading force, almost before any one was aware of what was taking place, and eventually made his escape with only a few casualties. Wellington, disgusted at the escape of the garrison, vented his wrath on his lax troops in no measured terms, and leaving Sir Brent Spencer with a sufficient force to watch Marmont, despatched the remainder of the army to Badajoz, the siege of which he proposed to renew at once.

While Wellington was fighting Massena at Fuentes d'Onor, much had been going on in the neighbourhood of Badajoz, and Wellington, although seemingly so fully occupied in the north, was at the same time planning for the overthrow of Soult in the south. It will be remembered that when he hurriedly left Badajoz, at the end of April, to attend to Massena, he instructed Beresford to prosecute the siege leisurely. Certainly Beresford could do no more, since, as has been said, he lacked all the requisites for a regular siege, but he attempted more, and failed ignominiously. From the 5th to the 12th May the first siege of Badajoz was carried on without sufficient organisation, and assaults were directed on various points before they had been properly breached, with the result that within the week Beresford had lost nearly a thousand men, and had made no impression on the fortress. Then came the news that Soult was moving to the relief of the garrison, when Beresford at once raised the siege, marched south, and prepared to give battle. On the 16th May was fought the memorable and bloody battle of Albuhera (or Albuera), where, more by good luck than good management, Beresford, with a loss of four thousand of his eight thousand men, succeeded in defeating his adversary, whose losses were still heavier. The investment of Badajoz was now resumed, and Wellington was soon on the spot, making arrangements for a second siege.

Badajoz at this time was probably the strongest fortress on the Spanish frontier. It was situated on the south bank of the Guadiana, a broad and deep river, which was of itself considered to be sufficient protection from an attack from the north. On that side, therefore, the defences of the fortress consisted only of a simple rampart. On all other sides the fortifications were formidable, having regular bastioned fronts, with solid masonry parapets, encircled by a ditch in places thirty feet deep. Within the north-east angle of the fortress stood the ancient castle, built on a hillock one hundred feet in height, and overlooking the Guadiana; yet, in its turn, overlooked by the high ground (barely five hundred yards distant) to the north of the river. In order to guard against the possibility of an enemy's artillery occupying these heights and demolishing the castle, a detached fort, known as St Christoval (or San Christobal), had been built on them; while, on the opposite side of Badajoz, there were two detached works—Pardeleras on the south, and Picurina on the south-east.

In the first siege, Beresford had attempted to attack from the north, capture St Christoval, and, after establishing batteries, breach and assault the castle. St Christoval, however, proved too strong for the assailants, and thus Beresford was forced to leave his work undone. When Wellington came on the scene to prepare for the second siege, he decided to follow Beresford's plan, and accordingly, on the 24th May, the 7th Division invested St Christoval. Trenches were now commenced towards the castle and towards St Christoval, and batteries were soon erected. During the first few days of June the trenchwork made rapid progress, and the guns fired continuously on the castle and on the fort. On the 6th June, a practicable breach in St Christoval was reported, and the assault was ordered to take place forthwith.

On the night of the 6th-7th, the assault was launched, Major Macintosh, of the 85th, commanding the Stormers, and Ensign Dyas, of the 51st, the Forlorn Hope. The advanced party succeeded in dropping into the ditch undiscovered, and the Stormers with their escalading ladders followed close behind, but on reaching the breach it was found that the defenders had succeeded in repairing it, and had added to its summit a high perpendicular wall—so high that the ladders would not nearly reach the top. Then the enemy's musket-fire fell upon the unfortunate Stormers, and shells, rolled from the ramparts, bursting amongst them, played havoc in the ranks. Retreat was inevitable, and upwards of a hundred dead and wounded were left in the ditch.

Next day the guns reopened fire on St Christoval, and on the 9th June a second assault was ordered. Ensign Dyas again led the Forlorn Hope, and Major M'Geechy, of the 11th, the Stormers. The ladders carried were much longer than those used on the previous occasion, yet they did not prove long enough; for the defenders had removed the débris from the foot of the breach and thus rendered the place safe from escalade. Shot and shell now rained on the baffled assailants, but, nothing daunted, they reared their ladders and pressed up them, in the attempt to reach the rampart—only, however, to be bayoneted at the top, or to be hurled backwards into the ditch as the defenders pushed the ladders away. The disaster was complete. M'Geechy was killed, and ere the troops could extricate themselves from the ditch hundreds had fallen. Of the 51st alone there fell in these two desperate assaults one officer killed and three officers wounded, twenty-six men killed and seventy wounded; but Dyas, the hero of two Forlorn Hopes, escaped unharmed, and was personally complimented by Wellington for his gallantry.

Major Sam Rice, who had taken an active part in these assaults, wrote, in his usual laconic way, from Camp before Badajoz, 16th June 1811:—

"The siege of this place, which began under such favourable auspices, I am sorry to say, is not likely to terminate yet awhile, and, if at all, only by starvation, for it is most ably defended, beyond, I believe, the calculations of the scientifics. We opened fire from our batteries on the 2nd June, and proceeded to batter and destroy, but without much effect, for the guns and all apparatus are withdrawn within these last three days. The cause is said to be that Marshal Soult is again coming forward with a determination to dispute the point, and afford relief to the garrison; but before this a general action must be fought, and a bloody one it will be, for on this depends the fate of Badajoz and of the frontier—at any rate for a time. The place still continues invested, but all expect to move directly to the army in front. We have been most cruelly harassed day and night, and totally uncovered, as well as exposed to a most scorching sun. Our Regiment has suffered much in two unsuccessful attempts to storm a fort— 100 men killed and wounded, and several officers. I have escaped wonderfully, though never under a hotter fire in all my life. I am writing from the bare ground, on which I have taken up my abode this last month entirely. Mainwaring is sick; I command the Regiment, reduced already to 300—so much for honour and glory!"

Almost immediately after this letter was written, Wellington, learning that Marmont had come down and united with Soult, raised the siege, and withdrew his force rapidly, a few miles, to the Caya river, and on the 19th June the French armies entered Badajoz. The combination against Wellington was now weighty. Soult and Marmont could put sixty thousand men into the field, whereas the Allies on the Caya could not muster half that number. But the French marshals failed to discover this weakness, and Wellington found the ground about the Caya so favourable that he was able to present a bold front and deceive his opponents as to his actual strength, which, even after Spencer joined him with the force left in the neighbourhood of Almeida, stood at no more than twenty-eight thousand fighting men. Unwilling to risk a battle without knowing the actual strength of their adversary, Soult and Marmont made no attempt to advance, but shortly afterwards retired and separated, to commence a new plan of campaign.

The following letter from Major Rice gives his views on the situation about this time:—


"Campo Mayor, 19th July 1811.

"Since my last we have been tolerably quiet; scarce even alarms, which have their advantages in keeping the body and soul in that activity so essential to the military character. It seems now pretty well ascertained that the French army is broken up for the present. Soult, with a corps, reoccupies Seville. Marmont, with the remaining force, Plasencia and its neighbourhood. By an intercepted letter from Marmont, and which is said to be authentic, he complains much of the disorganisation of his army, and want of resources of every kind, and particularly money, without which he can anticipate no future good. I suppose the gentlemen soldiers begin to grumble—pay or plunder is the cry. For my part, I've heard so much of armies being annihilated, want of pay, food, and clothing, &c., &c., and cowed at even the sight of British troops, all which statements have proved so incorrect by pretty fair experience, that I now give ear to nothing that is said, however apparently good the authority. Whatever may be their motives, one thing is pretty certain and known to both parties—that no active warfare can be carried on at this season of the year in the Alentejo without mutual destruction. The campaign may probably open again early in the autumn. On what point the attack is likely to be made, I as little care as I am able to form an opinion, but wherever it is, they will certainly get cursedly licked. So much for presumption! The whole of our army, which has been bivouacking in this vicinity, is now nearly in motion, standing by divisions along the frontier, to Castello Branco and beyond.

"We march to-morrow for Nissa (or Niza), a town this side the Tagus, and near one of the principal fords, Villa Velha. The weather is most dreadfully hot. Crowded, and stenched out by all sorts of agreeables—dead animals, &c.—our situation is not the most delectable one. Withal, bad fare, and every article exorbitantly dear. Mainwaring has got a staff appointment, and an officer from half-pay has been brought in. What satisfaction is there in serving if it has not its reward? I am fairly sick of the business. I have had nothing but losses of late. A valuable horse broke from me while at Badajoz, swam the Guadiana, and I believe is now in the French lines. Poor Harry's[56] pistol, which I had in my sash the night of the storm (St Christoval), dropped out, and I lost also my poor dear Mary's[57] snuff-box, which I considered almost as my guardian angel, it having been my companion in every affair."

The latter part of this letter helps to throw light on Sam Rice's character, and it is evident from it that he was a man who bore no ill-will to any one. He mentions casually that "an officer from half-pay has been brought in," and he immediately dismisses the subject with, "I am fairly sick of the business," and never refers to it again. Yet he, the senior major of the 51st, had been passed over for the command of the regiment, and Lieut.-Colonel Mitchell, who had had no previous connection with the regiment, had been brought in over his head. Under such circumstances an ordinary man might have been excused if he had given vent to his feelings by filling two or three sheets of paper with abuse of every one in authority. Major Rice was the victim of circumstances; by no fault of his own he had lost the command of his regiment; but he was above all things loyal, and he refused to give away his commanding officer, Colonel Mainwaring. He says nothing whatever of any trouble. On the 16th June he writes, "Mainwaring is sick; I command the Regiment"; and on the 19th July, "Mainwaring has got a staff appointment." It would have been easy for him to have told the whole story, and thus excused himself, as certainly nine out of ten people would have done. He, however, chose the better part, and left unsaid anything that might have detracted from the conduct of his commanding officer, and anything that might have been seized upon by gossip-mongers as affecting the good name of the Regiment.

In later years Sir John Colborne related what took place in the following words:[58]—"Colonel Mainwaring, of the 51st, was placed in a position [Battle of Fuentes de Oñoro] in which he thought he was sure to be surrounded by the French. So he called his officers and said, 'we are sure of being taken or killed; therefore we'll burn the colours.' Accordingly, they brought the colours and burnt them with all funeral pomp, and buried the ashes, or kept them, I believe. It so happened that the French never came near them. Lord Wellington was exceedingly angry when he heard of it, as he knew well enough where he had placed the regiment. So he ordered Mainwaring under arrest and tried him by court-martial. An old colonel, who undertook his defence, said, 'I believe it was something to do with religious principles.' 'Oh,' said Lord Wellington, 'if it was a matter of religious principles, I have nothing more to do with it. You may take him out of arrest; but send him to Lisbon.' So he went to Lisbon, and was never allowed to command his regiment again; he was sent home."

Such is the story, and there is little doubt that when Sam Rice wrote, on the 16th June, that he was in temporary command, as Mainwaring was sick, he knew perfectly well that his commanding officer, although he certainly had been invalided to Lisbon, had been virtually relieved of his command. But the authorities, evidently unwilling to be too severe on an officer who had performed good services for his country, but who had erred through excess of zeal, so arranged matters that, on the 13th June 1811, Lieut.-Colonel Mainwaring exchanged to the half-pay of the 26th Foot (with Lieut.-Colonel Mitchell) and was appointed commandant of Hilsea Barracks in England. The matter, of course, had to be referred home, and so took some time, and in the meanwhile Colonel Mainwaring had taken his regiment to the camp before Badajoz, and had been hurt in the trenches.

Now, as a matter of fact, Sir John Colborne was wrong in saying that "the French never came near them," for it is perfectly certain that the 7th Division was posted in a most perilous position, and was very seriously attacked, although certainly the 51st was not so desperately engaged as were some of the other regiments. The division, numbering some four thousand infantry (of whom the 51st and 85th were the only British regiments), and supported by fourteen hundred cavalry, was detached two miles from the main position, on practically open ground, and every one in the division knew that since Wellington's left flank was impregnable, Massena would, of necessity, direct his attack on the right flank. Wellington himself was well aware of this, but either he did not anticipate so vast a turning movement as his adversary eventually launched, or he had intended that the 7th Division should only hold the outlying position assigned to it long enough to induce Massena to develop his attack against it. Be that as it may, the fact remains that, at one time, the 7th Division was threatened by twenty thousand of Massena's infantry and nearly the whole of his masses of cavalry, and for a while was in imminent danger of being cut off and annihilated. Wellington, of course, set matters right as soon as he realised that the situation was becoming critical, but there were some who imagined that he was intensely annoyed at having made faulty dispositions in the first instance, and that he endeavoured to justify himself in the eyes of the 7th Division by venting his wrath on the colonel of the 51st. At the same time the burning of the colours was an extraordinary procedure on the part of the colonel, and it is not easy to understand how it was that the other senior officers of the regiment acquiesced in it, if, indeed, they did so. When the circumstances became known to Wellington, he was bound to take notice of what had occurred; but apparently the officers of the 51st considered that he was unduly severe in treating their colonel's action as anything more than an error of judgment, for which a reprimand might have been sufficient. As it was, they always maintained that the commander-in-chief had been harsh and unjust, because it had been represented to him that Colonel Mainwaring had doubted the wisdom of his dispositions.

Years afterwards his nephew, Frederick Mainwaring,[59] who, when only fourteen years of age, fought as an ensign of the 51st at Fuentes d'Onor and elsewhere, wrote very strongly on the subject, and referred to the incident of the burning of the colours, though without actually mentioning what had occurred, in the following words:—

"An action, in which this officer took the greatest responsibility upon himself, and which ought to have reflected credit upon him rather than annoyance, was misrepresented to the great Duke, who, with all his bright qualities, is said (if report does not greatly belie him) never to alter an opinion or a resolution once formed."[60]

Colonel Mainwaring was not the only commanding officer in the Peninsula who was troubled by the presence of his regimental colours in the field, for there were occasions upon which the colours hampered the movements of a regiment very considerably. In action they could never be neglected, since they were held to contain, as it were, the soul of the regiment. Originally used as the rallying-point, they had gradually come to be regarded as what nowadays would be termed the mascot of the regiment, so that their loss in battle was thought likely to lead to the most dire consequences. The officers who carried them knew that they were in honour bound to defend them to the last, and when a whole regiment was ordered to skirmish to the front, it was often necessary to leave a company behind to guard the colours. As the war in the Peninsula went on, light infantry regiments realised that their colours were an encumbrance, and observing that rifle regiments were not provided with colours, some of them got permission to place theirs in store. But this was exceptional, and most regiments continued to carry their colours into action. At Waterloo they were everywhere conspicuous, and even in modern times their defence in the field has led to fierce fighting and the performance of signal acts of gallantry. Now, however, the extended battlefield has made their presence an impossibility, and they are no longer taken on active service. Perhaps, in this way, the sentiment attached to the "flag that bore the battle and the breeze" has been rudely crushed; yet the colours of to-day, emblazoned with numerous battle honours, are useful in reminding the young soldiers of a regiment of the victories won by their ancestors.

Whether, as a result of this trouble over the 51st colours at Fuentes d'Onor, Rice suffered to any great extent by being passed over for the command of the regiment is questionable. He certainly did not succeed to the command for another six years; but, if nothing had occurred, Colonel Mainwaring could have continued to hold it for that length of time, or for even longer. The fact of another officer having been brought in over his head did not reflect on Rice's character as an officer, for it always has been well known to every one in the service that an outside officer must take the place of a commanding officer relieved of his command; and it will readily be understood that such an arrangement is a necessity. As we shall see, the authorities made it up to Rice in more ways than one, and he eventually received as many decorations and honours as he would have received if he had succeeded Colonel Mainwaring[61] in the command of the 51st.

Having failed to reduce Badajoz, Wellington decided to invest Ciudad Rodrigo, and towards that place his troops were now moving. The 51st marched from Campo Mayor to Sabugal, and thence proceeded to Alfayates and Villa Mayor, at which latter place the regiment remained throughout the greater part of August and September, as will be seen from the two following letters from Major Rice, who during this time was in temporary command of the regiment:—