Sir David Baird, who took the shorter line to Astorga, by way of Valencia de S. Juan, effected his march without molestation. The sick and wounded, following the same track, halted at the latter place, to pass the night. Hardly had they been provided with the necessary food, and laid to rest, before the alarm was sounded, and they were again hurried into the waggons. The night was cold, misty, and exceeding dark, and the Ezla was to be crossed some little distance from the town. They were not provided with pontoons. The ford is dangerous, because of the rapidity of the stream, occasioned by two narrow banks of shingles, which form an angle in the middle; and at this time the river was fast rising, from the melting of the snow upon the mountains. A serjeant’s guard had been left by Sir David on the opposite bank, to assist the waggons in passing, and skuttle two ferry-boats, when they had effected their passage. They kindled a fire with grass and rushes, for the sake of its light, but the materials were wet, and the wind soon extinguished it. A Spanish muleteer attempted to guide them over the ford: his mule tripped in the mid stream, he was thrown, and saved by a soldier, when just in the act of sinking. Perilous, however, as the ford was, the passage was accomplished, without other loss than that of some baggage-waggons, which broke down.

Sir John Moore, meantime, with the other division of the army, reached Benevente, and there found it necessary to issue general orders, ♦Dec. 27.♦ which reflected severely upon the conduct both of his men and officers. “The misbehaviour of the column which had marched by Valderas exceeded,” he said, “what he could have believed of British soldiers. He could feel no mercy towards officers who neglected, in times like these, essential duties, nor towards soldiers who disgraced their country, by acts of villany towards the people whom they were sent to protect.” Alluding then to the discontent which was manifested at the hurry of the retreat, and the mystery which was thrown over their proceedings, he said, “it was impossible for the General to explain to his army the motives of the movements which he directed; he could, however, assure them, that he had made none since he left Salamanca which he did not foresee, and was not prepared for; and, as far as he was a judge, they had answered the purposes for which they were intended. When it was proper to fight a battle he would do it, and he would choose the time and place which he thought most fit. In the meantime, he begged the officers and men to attend diligently to discharge their parts, and leave to him, with the general officers, the decision of measures which belonged to them alone.” Strong as this language was, it had no effect, and the havoc which had been committed at Valderas was renewed at Benevente. The castle there is one of the finest monuments of the age of chivalry; we have nothing in England which approaches to its grandeur: Berkley, Raby, even Warwick and Windsor are poor fabrics in comparison. With Gothic grandeur, it has the richness of Moorish decoration; open galleries, where Saracenic arches are supported by pillars of porphyry and granite; cloisters, with fountains playing in their courts; jasper columns and tesselated floors, niches, alcoves, and seats in the walls, over-arched in various forms, and enriched with every grotesque adornment of gold and silver, and colours which are hardly less gorgeous. It belonged to the Duke of Ossuna; and the splendour of old times was still continued there. The extent of this magnificent structure may be estimated from this circumstance, that two regiments, besides artillery, were quartered within its walls. They proved the most destructive enemies that had ever entered them: their indignant feelings broke out again in acts of wanton mischief; and the officers, who felt and admired the beauties of this venerable pile, attempted in vain to save it from devastation. Every thing combustible was seized, fires were lighted against the fine walls, and pictures of unknown value, the works, perhaps, of the greatest Spanish masters, and of those other great painters who left so many of their finest productions in Spain, were heaped together as fuel. The archives of the family fortunately escaped.

The soldiers had, however, here an opportunity of displaying a spirit more becoming them as ♦Dec. 28.♦ Englishmen. Soon after the rear of the army had marched into the town, an alarm was given that the enemy were on the opposite heights. In an instant all was on the alert; every man hastened to his place of rendezvous; the cavalry poured out of the gates: ... the plain in the opposite direction was covered with fugitives, and the streets were filled with women bewailing their fate, and calling upon the Saints and the Virgin for protection. The French, seeing with what alacrity they would be encountered, looked at our men from the heights, and retired. It was ♦Dec. 29.♦ towards evening, and as the enemy were so near, orders were given to destroy the bridge. This was effected about daybreak the following morning; and it was supposed that their progress was for a while impeded. The troops again continued their retreat, and the whole of the infantry and heavy artillery had departed, when intelligence arrived that the French were again appearing, and that their cavalry were in the act of passing the Ezla: ... they had found a ford about three hundred yards below the bridge. Lord Paget and General Stewart were still in the town. The picquets of the night, under Lieutenant-Colonel Otway and Major Bagwell, were sent down; the cavalry were ordered to repair to their alarm posts; and many volunteers came forward. Lord Paget hastened to the spot: he found four squadrons of imperial guards already formed and skirmishing with the picquets; other cavalry were in the act of passing. The 10th Hussars were sent for: as soon as they arrived, General Stewart placed himself at the head of the picquets, and charged the enemy. The French gave way, and repassed the ford more expeditiously than they had crossed it. They formed again on the other side, and threatened a second attempt; but three pieces of horse artillery, which now came up, were stationed near the bridge, and opened a fire upon them, that did considerable execution. About seventy prisoners were taken; among them General Lefebvre Desnouettes, Commander of the imperial guard of cavalry. The loss of the enemy could not be ascertained: it was variously guessed, from 60 to 200. Ours was about 50 in killed and wounded. It was reported that Buonaparte was on the heights during this action.

The ardour of the French was manifestly damped by this fresh proof of British valour; and they continued their pursuit at such respectful distance, that the rear of the army, which had been engaged with them, reached Bañeza ♦Dec. 30.♦ that night unmolested. The next day the Commander-in-chief reached Astorga. This was the rallying point, and here they found about 5000 men of Romana’s army. That army was literally half naked and half starved; a malignant typhus fever was raging among them, and sixty or seventy were sent daily to the hospitals. About this number, however, were fit for service. Romana arrived there the same day. The first intimation that the French were advancing to interpose between Portugal and the British army had been received from him; but it was his opinion that that information ought to have produced no change in Sir John Moore’s intentions. The intended attack, he thought, ought still to have been made; Soult might have been beaten in time to fall upon the corps which was coming to reinforce him, and by the success which prompt and vigorous measures would have ensured, they should have become masters of Leon and Castille. To his utter astonishment he now found that there was no intention of making a stand at Astorga, part of the British army being already on the way to Villa Franca, and a regiment of cavalry all that was left on the side of Bañeza. He went therefore to the British Commander, and represented to him the propriety of facing the enemy where they were, a point from whence they had always a secure retreat by the passes of Manzanal and Foncebadon, ... passes so strong that a small force might maintain them against any numbers. He represented to him also, that the park of artillery was at Ponferrada, where also the hospitals were established, and there were magazines of corn; that in Villa Franca there were more than 2000 sick, with hospital stores and depôts of arms, and therefore it was of the utmost consequence to defend the Bierzo. But Sir John Moore replied, that he had determined upon retiring into Galicia, because his troops required rest. He desired that the high road of Manzanal might be left to him, saying, he would defend that and the principal entrance to Galicia by Villa Franca; and that Romana might take the Foncebadon pass, and enter by way of the Val de Orras and Puebla ♦Honourable conduct of Romana and his army.♦ de Sanabria. And here a proof of Spanish magnanimity was given by these half armed, half naked, and half famished men, for such they literally were. A malignant fever was raging among them, and long fatigue, privations, and disease, made them appear more like an ambulatory hospital than an army. Under such circumstances it might have been supposed they would have sought to secure their retreat under protection of the British to Coruña and Ferrol. But Romana and his forlorn band were too high-minded to attach themselves as a burden upon those allies with whom they had so lately expected to co-operate in honourable and hopeful enterprise; and they assented without hesitation to the British General’s desire. Romana only requested that the British troops might no longer be permitted to commit disorders which even in an enemy’s country ought never to be allowed; it must have been painful indeed for Sir John Moore to have heard of such excesses, and still more painful to feel, that in a retreat so hasty as this was intended to be, it was impossible to prevent them.

The troops had been assured, at Benevente, that they were not falling back upon Coruña, but that their march was only to secure a more favourable position: ... no affirmations could make the soldiery believe this: and when Sir John Moore reached Astorga, and issued his orders, it was too manifest that they were not retreating, but flying, before the enemy. Ammunition waggons were burnt here, and an entire depôt of entrenching tools abandoned, so that the army was thus deprived of a most important means of impeding the enemy’s progress. The position at Villa Franca, which the Commander-in-chief had formerly mentioned in his dispatches, was no longer thought of. Two brigades under General Craufurd, were detached, by way of Orense, to Vigo, to which port Sir John had ordered empty transports to be sent for him, supposing it to be the best point of embarkation. This detachment preceded Romana in the line which he expected was to have been left for him; and when he and his forlorn band, after halting only one night, took their way toward Orense, they found the country stripped of the means of subsistence upon which they had reckoned. General Fraser and his division were immediately sent forward, with orders to proceed to Lugo; he was followed by General Hope and Sir David Baird, and their instructions were to make forced marches to the coast. “With respect to me and the British troops,” said the Commander, in his official letter, “it has come to that point which I have long foreseen.... From a desire to do what I could, I made the movement against Soult: as a diversion, it has answered completely; but as there is nothing to take advantage of it, I have risked the loss of the army for no purpose. I have no option now but to fall down to the coast as fast as I am able.... We must all make forced marches, from the scarcity of provisions, and to be before the enemy, who, by roads upon our flanks, may otherwise intercept us.”

It appears evident, from these expressions, that Sir John Moore was not well informed of the nature of the country through which he was about to retreat. Westward of Astorga, two great ♦The Bierzo.♦ ranges of mountains trend from north to south: Puerto del Rabanal, Cruz de Ferro, and Foncebadon, are those of the eastern branch; those of the western are the Puerto del Cebrero, Puerto del Courel, and Puerto del Aguiar; they meet, on the south, with the Sierra de Sanabria, the Sierra de Cabrera, and the Montes Aquilianos. The tract which these mountains enclose is called the Bierzo: from summit to summit it is about sixteen leagues from north to south, and about fourteen from east to west. The whole waters of this amphitheatre have but one opening; they are collected into the river Sil, and pass, through a narrow gorge, into the Val de Orras, in Galicia.... The centre is a plain of about four square leagues. There is scarcely in Europe a more lovely tract of country, certainly no where a more defensible one. The main road, one of the finest in Europe, is that of Manzanal; that of Foncebadon also leads into the Bierzo; there is no third ingress, and from Villa Franca toward Coruña the only way is that of the Puerto Cebrero; both the former passes lead along defiles, where, as Romana observed three months before this miserable retreat, a thousand men might stop the march of twenty times their number: and beyond Villa Franca there is no lateral road. Sir David Baird’s army had travelled this road; they supposed that it could not possibly be intended to fall back beyond that point. But the Commander saw no security till he should reach the coast; there he hoped to find transports ready, or to take up some defensible position till they arrived. The same difficulties which affected him must affect his pursuers. It was not probable that all the numbers which were now marching against him would follow him the whole way; and once on the coast, it was his determination not to be molested by any thing like an equal force: ... “it is only while retreating,” said he, “that we are vulnerable.” His sole object now was to bring off the army, ... to effect this he had already destroyed great part of the ammunition and military stores, and now left behind many of the sick.

The mountain-tops were covered with heavy clouds, and the roads knee-deep in snow. Provisions, in a country where the natives are not rich enough at any time to lay by a store, can never be abundant, and what there were, had already been exhausted by the repeated march of troops, English and Spaniards. The little order with which such food as could be found was issued out, occasioned waste, and thereby increased the evil. The men, half famished, half frozen, and altogether desperate, were no longer in any subordination. They forced their way into the houses where their rations should have been served, seized it by force, frequently spilling the wine, and destroying more than they could carry away. This was not all: ... pillage could not be prevented. Houses and villages were burning in all directions; but when they thus acted as enemies, they were treated as such; and many of them were put to death by the peasantry, in revenge, or in self-defence.

Buonaparte pursued in person no farther than Astorga: he left Marshal Ney with 18,000 men to keep that part of the country in subjection; and assigned to Marshal Soult, with 23,000, what he called the “glorious mission of destroying the English army, ... pursuing them to their point of embarkation, and driving them into the sea.” Marshal Soult’s was an easy task: he had only to follow the English just close enough to keep them at the pace at which they set out, and not come near enough to make them turn and stand at bay; fatigue would do his work more surely than the sword. From Astorga to Villa Franca del Bierzo is fifteen leagues, about sixty English miles; the road for the first four leagues is up the mountain, but through an open country. Having reached the summit of Foncebadon, you enter into some of the strongest passes in Europe. It would scarcely be possible for an invading army to force their way here, against a body of determined men. These passes continue between two and three leagues, nearly to the village of Torre; from thence, through Benvibre and Ponferrada, nothing can be finer than the country, and the circle of mountains which binds it in. But never, in the most melancholy ages of Spanish history, had a more miserable scene ♦1809.
January.♦ been represented, than was now to be witnessed here. The horses of the retreating army began to fail, and this, in great measure, for want of shoes and shoe-nails. There was no want of iron to hammer new ones: there are iron-works near Villa Franca, and enough might have been procured, had there been time allowed. As soon as these noble animals foundered, they were shot, lest the enemy should profit by them. The rain continued pouring, ... the baggage was to be dragged, and the soldiers were to wade through half-melted snows, ... the feet of the men as well as of the beasts began to fail, ... more waggons were left behind, ... more ammunition destroyed along the way; and when the troops reached Villa Franca, they were in such a state, that several experienced officers predicted, if this march against time were persevered in, a fourth of the army would be left in the ditches, before it was ♦Jan. 2.♦ accomplished. More magazines and carriages were here destroyed. Some of the men abandoning themselves now, as knowing that if they proceeded they must die of cold, hunger, and weariness; they got into the wine cellars, and, giving way to desperate excess, were found dead when the French entered the town. When the General marched with the reserve from Benvibre, he left a detachment to cover the town, while parties were sent to warn the stragglers of their danger, and drive them out of the houses, ... for the place was filled with them, near a thousand men of the preceding divisions having remained there, all abandoned to despair, and most of them to drunkenness. A few were prevailed upon to move on; the greater number were deaf to threats, and insensible to danger, till the rear-guard was compelled to march. A small detachment of cavalry still covered them, and did not quit the town till the enemy approached, and then the road was filled with stragglers, armed and unarmed, mules, carts, women, and children.... Four or five squadrons of French cavalry compelled the detachment in the rear to retire, and pursued them closely for several miles, till General Paget, with the reserve, repulsed the pursuers. As the French dragoons galloped through the long line of these wretched stragglers, they slashed them with their swords to the right and left, ... the men being so insensible with liquor that they neither attempted to resist nor get out of the road. Some of these men having found their way to the army, mangled as they were, were paraded through the ranks, to show their comrades the miserable consequence of drunkenness at such a time.

The Spaniards at Villa Franca would not believe that the French were advancing; through so strong a country, and in so severe a season, they thought it was impossible. Sir John Moore, however, well knew that he was pursued, and he was afraid of halting, lest the enemy should get in his rear, and intercept him at Lugo; an apprehension which could not have been entertained, had he been acquainted with the country. The troops, therefore, were hurried on: the artillery and head-quarters went foremost; General Baird’s column, and the cavalry, under Lord Paget, covered the rear. The advanced guard of the enemy, under General Colbert, were close at their heels: Merle’s division joined them on ♦Jan. 3.♦ the 3d, and on the afternoon of that day they ventured to attack the rear-guard at Cacabelos. They were repulsed by the dragoons and riflemen. General Colbert received a ball in his forehead, and fell; he was an officer of great promise, and of so fine a person, that Canova is said to have called him the modern Antinous. Having thus once more shown the enemy what they could do in battle, the rear of the army, reluctantly and almost broken-hearted, continued their retreat.

From Villa Franca to Castro is one continued ascent up Monte del Cebrero for about fifteen miles, through one of the wildest, most delightful, and most defensible countries in the world. The road is a royal one, cut with great labour and expense in the side of the mountain, and following all its windings; ... for some part of the way it overhangs the river Valcarce, a rapid mountain stream, which falls into the Burbia near the town, and afterwards joins the Sil, to pass through the single outlet in the gorge of the Bierzo. Oaks, alders, poplars, hazels, and chestnuts grow in the bottom, and far up the side of the hills: the apple, pear, cherry, and mulberry are wild in this country; the wild olive, also, is found here; and here are the first vineyards which the traveller sees on his way from Coruña into the heart of Spain. The mountains are cultivated in some parts even to their summits, and trenches are cut along their sides, for the purpose of irrigating them. Even those writers whose journals were written during the horrors of such a flight noticed this scenery with admiration. It was now covered with snow: ... there was neither provision to sustain nature, nor shelter from the rain and snow, nor fuel for fire, to keep the vital heat from total extinction, nor place where the weary and foot-sore could rest for a single hour in safety. All that had hitherto been suffered was but the prelude to this consummate scene of horrors. It was still attempted to carry on some of the sick and wounded: the beasts which drew them failed at every step; and they were left in their waggons, to perish amid the snow. “I looked round,” says an officer, “when we had hardly gained the highest point of those slippery precipices, and saw the rear of the army winding along the narrow road.... I saw their way marked by the wretched people who lay on all sides expiring, from fatigue and the severity of the cold: ... their bodies reddened in spots the white surface of the ground.” The men were now desperate: excessive fatigue, and the feeling of the disgrace there was in thus flying before the enemy, excited in them a spirit which was almost mutinous: ... a few hours’ pause was what they desired, an opportunity of facing the French, the chance of an honourable and speedy death, the certainty of sweetening their sufferings by taking vengeance upon their pursuers. A Portugueze bullock-driver, who had faithfully served the English from the first day of their march, was seen on his knees amid the snow, with his hands clasped, dying in the attitude and act of prayer. He had at least the comfort of religion in his passing hour. The soldiers who threw themselves down to perish by the way-side gave utterance to far different feelings with their dying breath: shame and strong anger were their last sentiments; and their groans were mingled with imprecations upon the Spaniards, by whom they fancied themselves betrayed, and upon the generals, who chose rather to let them die like beasts than take their chance in the field of battle. That no horror might be wanting, women and children accompanied this wretched army: ... some were frozen to death in the baggage-waggons, which were broken down, or left upon the road for want of cattle; some died of fatigue and cold, while their infants were pulling at the exhausted breast: ... one woman was taken in labour upon the mountain; she lay down at the turning of an angle rather more sheltered than the rest of the way from the icy sleet which drifted along; ... there she was found dead, and two babes, which she had brought forth, struggling in the snow: ... a blanket was thrown over her, to cover her from sight, ... the only burial which could be afforded, ... and the infants were given in charge to a woman who came up in one of the bullock-carts, ... to take their chance for surviving through such a journey.

While the reserve were on this part of the road, they met between thirty and forty waggons filled with arms, ammunition, shoes, and clothing, from England, for Romana’s army. There was no means of carrying them back; ... such things as could be made use of were distributed to the soldiers as they passed, and the rest were destroyed. Indeed, the baggage which was with the army could not be carried on: nearly an hundred waggons, laden with shoes and clothes, were abandoned upon this ascent. The dollars, too, could no longer be dragged along: had the resolution of sacrificing them been determined upon in time, they might have been distributed among the men: in this manner, great part might have been saved from the enemy, and they who escaped would have had some little compensation for the hardships which they had undergone: ... they were now cast over the side of the precipice, in hopes that the snow might conceal them from the French: ... many men are supposed to have been lost, in consequence of having dropped behind, for the hope of recovering some of this money. Dreadful as this march appeared to those who beheld the wreck of the army strewing its line of road, it was perhaps still more so for them who performed it in a night stormy and dark, wading through sludge and snow, stumbling over the bodies of beasts and men, and hearing, whenever the wind abated, the groans of those whose sufferings were not yet terminated by death.

From the summit of this mountain to Lugo is nearly twelve leagues. There are several bridges upon the way, over glens and gills, which might have impeded the pursuit, had they been destroyed. One, in particular, between Nogales and Marillas, is the most remarkable work of art between Coruña and Madrid. This bridge, which is called Puente del Corzul, crosses a deep ravine: from its exceeding height, the narrowness of its lofty arches, and its form, which, as usual with the Spanish bridges, is straight, it might at a little distance be mistaken for an aqueduct. Several of those officers who knew the road relied much upon the strength of the ravine, and the impossibility that the French could bring their guns over, if the bridge were destroyed. Grievous as it was to think of destroying so grand a work, its destruction was attempted; but, as in most other instances, to no purpose; whether the pioneers performed their office too hastily, or because their implements had been abandoned upon the way.

The different divisions had been ordered to halt and collect at Lugo. Sir John Moore was now sensible of the impossibility of reaching Vigo, ... the distance was double that to Coruña, the road was said to be impracticable for artillery, and the place itself offered no advantages for embarking in the face of an enemy. The brigades, however, of Generals Craufurd and Alton had marched for that port; and General Fraser, with his division, had been ordered to follow and join them. A dispatch was sent to stop him: the dragoon who was entrusted with it got drunk on the way, and lost the letter; and these troops, in consequence, had proceeded a full day’s journey on their way towards Vigo before the counter-order reached them, and they were marched back. Thus, instead of having two days’ rest at Lugo, as had been designed, they returned to that place excessively harassed, and with some diminution of number, occasioned by fatigue. When the horses entered Lugo, many of them fell dead in the streets, others were mercifully shot; ... above four hundred carcasses were lying in the streets and market places; ... there were none of the army who had strength to bury them; the towns-people were under too painful a suspense to think of performing work which it seemed hopeless to begin while the frequent musket-shot indicated so many fresh slaughters; there therefore the bodies lay, swelling with the rain, bursting, putrifying, and poisoning the atmosphere, faster than the glutted dogs and carrion birds could do their office. Here the retreating army might have rested, had the destruction of the bridges been effected; but this attempt had been so imperfectly executed, that the French came in sight on the 5th, and, collecting in considerable strength, took up a good position opposite our rear-guard, a valley dividing them.

On the following day they attacked the outposts, opening upon them with two Spanish pieces of ordnance, which they had taken on their march. The attack was made with great spirit; but it was received, says an officer, “with a steadiness which excited even our own wonder;” ... for at the sight of the enemy, and the sound of battle, the English recovered heart, and derived from their characteristic and invincible courage a strength ♦Jan. 7.♦ which soon made them victorious. On the 7th another attack was made, and in like manner repelled. The prisoners reported that Marshal Soult was come up with three divisions. Sir John Moore, therefore, expecting a more formidable attempt, drew up his whole force on the morning ♦Jan. 8.♦ of the 8th. It was his wish now to bring the enemy to action; he had perfect confidence in the valour of the troops, and perceived, also, that, unless he crippled his pursuers, there was no hope of embarking unmolested. Order and discipline were instantaneously restored by this resolution to fight, and the men seemed at once to have recovered from their sufferings. The French were not equally eager for battle; the trial which they had made of their enemies on the two preceding days was not such as to encourage them; and Soult was waiting for more troops to come up. The country was intersected with inclosures, and his position was thought too strong to be attacked by an inferior force. But, in reality, the French at this time were less numerous than the English. Another reason assigned for not attacking the enemy was, that the commissariat had only provisions for two days: delay, therefore, was judged as disadvantageous as retreat. It was afterwards known, that the French expected to be attacked, that they had no confidence in the strength of their position, and that their ablest officers apprehended their advanced guard would have been cut off. They frequently spoke of this to those English who were left in their power at Lugo, and exulted that Sir John Moore had contented himself with offering battle, instead of forcing them to an engagement. After waiting till the afternoon, during a day of snow and storms, Sir John ordered large fires to be lighted along the line, for the purpose of deceiving the enemy, and continued his retreat during the night.

Before the reserve left Lugo, the General once more endeavoured to repress the irregularity of the march. He warned the soldiers that their safety depended entirely upon their keeping their divisions, and marching with their regiments; and that those who stopped in villages, or straggled in the way, would inevitably be cut off by the French cavalry, ... “who have hitherto,” said he, “shown little mercy even to the feeble and infirm who have fallen into their hands. The army has still eleven leagues to march; the soldiers must make an exertion to accomplish this: the rear-guard cannot stop; and they who fall behind must take their fate.” These representations were ineffectual: ... it was, indeed, impossible to obey them: many of the men were exhausted and foot-sore, and could not keep their ranks: ... others, who had totally broke through all discipline, left them for the love of wine, or for worse motives. So irresistible was the temptation of liquor to men in their state, that it was deemed better to expose them to the cold and rain of a severe night, than to the wine-houses of Betanzos, the next town upon their march. When the Royals reached that place, they only mustered, with the colours, nine officers, three serjeants, and three privates: the rest had dropped on the road; and many of those who joined did not come up for three days. There was a memorable instance, in this part of the retreat, of what might have been accomplished by discipline and presence of mind. A party of invalids, between Lugo and Betanzos, were closely pressed by two squadrons of the enemy’s cavalry. Serjeant Newman, of the 2d battalion 43d, was among them: he made an effort to pass three or four hundred of these poor men, then halted, rallied round him such as were capable of making any resistance, and directed the others to proceed as they could. This party he formed regularly into divisions, and commenced firing and retiring in an orderly manner, till he effectually covered the retreat of his disabled comrades, and made the cavalry give up the pursuit.

The partial actions at Lugo, and the risk to which he had been exposed of a general one, checked Soult in his pursuit; and he was too sensible of the danger which he had escaped, to trust himself again so near the British, without a superior force. The British army, therefore, gained twelve hours’ march upon him, and reached Coruña with little farther molestation; they obtained implements from Coruña for destroying the bridge over the Mero, and thus impeded ♦Jan. 11.♦ the enemy’s progress. At Coruña, if the General had not represented the cause of Spain as hopeless, they might have found reinforcements from England, which would have enabled them to turn upon their pursuers, and take ample vengeance for the sufferings and the shame which they had endured. But, instead of reinforcements, he had directed that empty transports should be sent; and, for want of due knowledge of the country, had ordered them to Vigo, instead of Coruña. That order had been countermanded as soon as the error was discovered; but contrary winds detained the ships, ... happily for the honour of their country, for otherwise the troops would have quitted Spain as fugitives. It was apparent now that they could not escape unless they gained a battle. Coruña was a bad position. Had they been numerous enough to have occupied a range of hills about four miles from the town, they could have defended themselves against very superior numbers, ... but these heights required a larger force than the English army, of which not less than a fourth part had been foundered by the way. Both flanks would have been liable to be turned: it was therefore necessary to relinquish them to the enemy, and be content with occupying a second and lower range. Such, however, were the disadvantages of this situation, that some of our general officers advised the Commander to propose terms to Soult, for permitting the army to embark unmolested. In communicating this to the Government, Sir John said he was averse to make any such proposal, and exceedingly doubtful if it would be attended with any good effect, ... but whatever he might resolve upon this head, the Ministers might rest assured that he would accept no terms which were in the least dishonourable to the army or to the country. Happily for his own memory, upon farther consideration, he rejected the advice. It is sufficiently disgraceful that such advice should have been given; and deeply is England indebted to Sir John Moore for saving the army from this last and utter ignominy, and giving it an opportunity of displaying to the world that courage which had never forsaken it, and retrieving the honour which, had this counsel been followed, would irretrievably have been lost.

Arrangements, therefore, were made to give the enemy battle. One division, under General Hope, occupied a hill on the left, commanding the road to Betanzos: the height decreased gradually to the village of Elvina, taking a curved direction. At this village General Baird’s division commenced, and bent to the right: the whole formed nearly a semicircle. On the right of Sir David Baird, the rifle corps formed a chain across a valley, and communicated with General Fraser’s division, which was drawn up about half a mile from Coruña, near the road to Vigo. The reserve, under General Paget, occupied a village on the Betanzos road, about half a mile in the rear of General Hope. On the outside of the British posts was a magazine, containing 4000 barrels of gunpowder, which had been brought from England, and left there, while the Spanish armies were without ammunition! It was now necessary to blow it up: ... the explosion shook the town like an earthquake; and a village near the magazine was totally destroyed.

The French made their appearance on the morning of the 12th, moving in force on the opposite side of the river Mero. They took up a position near the village of Perillo, on the left flank, and occupied the houses along the river. Their force was continually increasing. On the 14th they commenced a cannonade, which was returned with such effect, that they at last drew off their guns. In the evening of this day the transports from Vigo hove in sight. Some slight skirmishes took place the following morning. Preparations meantime were making for the embarkation. Sir John finding that, from the nature of the ground, much artillery could not be employed, placed seven six-pounders and one howitzer along the line, and kept four Spanish guns as a reserve, to be advanced to any point where they might be wanted: the rest of the artillery was embarked. The sick and the dismounted cavalry were sent on board with all possible expedition. A few horses also were embarked, ... but there was little time for this: most of them were completely disabled; another slaughter, therefore, was made of them: and the beach was covered with their bodies. Some of these animals, seeing their fellows fall, were sensible of the fate intended for them: they became wild with terror, and a few broke loose.

The preparations for embarking were completed on the morning of the 16th, and the General gave notice, that he intended, if the French did not move, to begin embarking the reserve at four in the afternoon. This was about mid-day. He mounted his horse, and set off to visit the outposts: before he had proceeded far, a messenger came to tell him that the enemy’s line were getting under arms; and a deserter arriving at the same moment, confirmed the intelligence. He spurred forward. Their light troops were pouring rapidly down the hill on the right wing of the British, and the advanced picquets were already beginning to fire. Lord William Bentinck’s brigade, consisting of the 4th, 42d, and 50th regiments, maintained this post. It was a bad position, and yet, if the troops gave way on that point, the ruin of the army was inevitable. The guards were in their rear. General Paget was ordered to advance with the reserve, and support Lord William. The enemy opened a cannonade from eleven heavy guns, advantageously planted on the hills. Two strong columns, one advancing from a wood, the other skirting its edge, directed their march towards the right wing. A third column approached the centre: a fourth advanced slowly upon the left: a fifth remained half way down the hill, in the same direction. Both in number and weight of guns they had a decided superiority; and they fired with such effect from the commanding situation which they had chosen, that the balls in their bounding reached the British reserve, and occasioned some loss there.

Sir David Baird had his arm shattered with a grape-shot as he was leading on his division. The two lines of infantry advanced against each other: they were separated by stone walls and hedges which intersected the ground: but as they closed, it was perceived that the French line extended beyond the right flank of the British, and a body of the enemy was observed moving up the valley to turn it. Marshal Soult’s intention was to force the right of the British, and thus to interpose between Coruña and the army, and cut it off from the place of embarkation. Failing in this attempt, he was now endeavouring to out-flank it. Half of the 4th regiment was therefore ordered to fall back, forming an obtuse angle with the other half. This manœuvre was excellently performed, and they commenced a heavy flanking fire: Sir John Moore called out to them, that this was exactly what he wanted to be done, and rode on to the 50th, commanded by Majors Napier and Stanhope. They got over an inclosure in their front, charged the enemy most gallantly, and drove them out of the village of Elvina; but Major Napier, advancing too far in the pursuit, received several wounds, and was made prisoner, and Major Stanhope was41 killed.

The General now proceeded to the 42d. “Highlanders,” said he, “remember Egypt!” ... they rushed on, and drove the French before them, till they were stopped by a wall: Sir John accompanied them in this charge. He now sent Captain Hardinge to order up a battalion of guards to the left flank of the 42d. The officer commanding the light infantry conceived, at this, that they were to be relieved by the guards, because their ammunition was nearly expended, and he began to fall back. The General, discovering the mistake, said to them, “My brave 42d, join your comrades: ammunition is coming, and you have your bayonets!” Upon this, they instantly moved forward. Captain Hardinge returned, and pointed out to the General where the guards were advancing. The enemy kept up a hot fire, and their artillery played incessantly on the spot where they were standing. A cannon-shot struck Sir John, and carried away his left shoulder, and part of the collar-bone, leaving the arm hanging by the flesh. He fell from his horse on his back, his countenance did not change, neither did he betray the least sensation of pain. Captain Hardinge, who dismounted, and took him by the hand, observed him anxiously watching the 42d, which was warmly engaged, and told him they were advancing; and upon that intelligence his countenance brightened. Colonel Graham, who now came up to assist him, seeing the composure of his features, began to hope that he was not wounded, till he perceived the dreadful laceration. From the size of the wound, it was in vain to make any attempt at stopping the blood; and Sir John consented to be removed in a blanket to the rear. In raising him up, his sword, hanging on the wounded side, touched his arm, and became entangled between his legs: Captain Hardinge began to unbuckle it; but the General said, in his usual tone and manner, and in a distinct voice, “It is as well as it is; I had rather it should go out of the field with me.” Six soldiers of the 42d and the guards bore him. Hardinge, observing his composure, began to hope that the wound might not be mortal, and said to him, he trusted he might be spared to the army, and recover. Moore turned his head, and looking steadfastly at the wound for a few seconds, replied, “No, Hardinge, I feel that to be impossible.”

As the soldiers were carrying him slowly along, he made them frequently turn round, that he might see the field of battle, and listen to the firing; and he was well pleased when the sound grew fainter. A spring-waggon came up, bearing Colonel Wynch, who was wounded; the Colonel asked who was in the blanket, and being told it was Sir John Moore, wished him to be placed in the waggon. Sir John asked one of the Highlanders whether he thought the waggon or the blanket was best? and the man said the blanket would not shake him so much, as he and the other soldiers would keep the step, and carry him easy. So they proceeded with him to his quarters at Coruña, weeping as they went.

General Paget, meantime, hastened with the reserve to support the right wing. Colonel Beckwith dashed on with the rifle corps, repelled the enemy, and advanced so far as nearly to carry off one of their cannon; but a corps greatly superior moved up the valley, and forced him to retire. Paget, however, attacked this body of the enemy, repulsed it, and pressed on, dispersing every thing before him, till the enemy, perceiving their left wing was now quite exposed, drew it entirely back. The French then advanced upon Generals Manningham and Leith, in the centre, and there they were more easily repelled, the ground being more elevated, and favourable for artillery. The position on the left was strong, and their effort there was unavailing: but a body of them took possession of a village on the road to Betanzos, and continued to fire from it, till Lieutenant-Colonel Nicholls attacked it, and beat them out. Night was now closing in, and the French had fallen back in all parts of the field. The firing, however, was not discontinued till it was dark.

Never was any battle gained under heavier disadvantages. The French force exceeded 20,000 men; the British were not 15,000. The superiority in artillery was equally great: ... the enemy had met English guns on the way, sent off, thus late, to the patriotic armies, and these they had turned back, and employed against the English. Our artillery was embarked; and the Shrapnell shells, which contributed so materially to the success at Vimeiro, were not used in this more perilous engagement. If the moral and physical state of the two armies be considered, the disadvantages under which our soldiers laboured were still greater: ... the French, equipped in the stores which they had overtaken upon the road, elated with a pursuit wherein no man had been forced beyond his strength, and hourly receiving reinforcements to their already superior numbers; ... the English, in a state of misery, to which no army, perhaps, had ever before been reduced till after a total defeat; having lost their military chest, their stores, their baggage, their horses, their women and children, their sick, their wounded, their stragglers, every thing but their innate, excellent, unconquerable courage. From 6000 to 7000 men had sunk under the fatigues of their precipitate retreat. The loss in the battle did not amount to 800; that of the42French is believed to have exceeded 2000. If such a victory was gained by the British army under such circumstances, what might not have been achieved by that army when unbroken, with all its means at hand, in health and strength, in its pride, and in its height of hope!

The General lived to hear that the battle was won. “Are the French beaten?” was the question which he repeated to every one who came into his apartment; and he expressed how great a satisfaction it was to him to know that they were defeated. “I hope,” he said, “the people of England will be satisfied! I hope my country will do me justice.” Then, addressing Colonel Anderson, who had been his friend and companion in arms for one-and-twenty years, he said to him, “Anderson, you know that I have always wished to die this way.... You will see my friends as soon as you can: ... tell them every thing.... Say to my mother”—But here his voice failed, he became excessively agitated, and did not again venture to name her. Sometimes he asked to be placed in an easier posture. “I feel myself so strong,” he said, “I fear I shall be long dying. It is great uneasiness ... it is great pain.” But, after a while, he pressed Anderson’s hand close to his body, and, in a few minutes, died without a struggle. He fell, as it had ever been his wish to do, in battle and in victory. No man was more beloved in private life, nor was there any general in the British army so universally respected. All men had thought him worthy of the chief command. Had he been less circumspect, had he looked more ardently forward, and less anxiously around him, and on all sides, and behind, ... had he been more confident in himself and in his army, and impressed with less respect for the French Generals, he would have been more equal to the difficulties of his situation. Despondency was the radical weakness of his mind. Personally he was as brave a man as ever met death in the field; but he wanted faith in British courage, and it is faith by which miracles are wrought in war as well as in religion. But let it ever be remembered with gratitude, that, when some of his general officers advised him to conclude the retreat by a capitulation, Sir John Moore preserved the honour of England.

He had often said that, if he were killed in battle, he wished to be buried where he fell. The body was removed at midnight to the citadel of Coruña. A grave was dug for him on the rampart there, by a party of the 9th regiment, the aides-du-camp attending by turns. No coffin could be procured; and the officers of his staff wrapped the body, dressed as it was, in a military cloak and blankets. The interment was hastened; for, about eight in the morning, some firing was heard, and they feared that, if a serious attack were made, they should be ordered away, and not suffered to pay him their last duty. The officers of his family bore him to the grave; the funeral service was read by the chaplain; and the corpse was covered with earth.

Meantime, General Hope, on whom the command devolved, passed the night in embarking the troops. At ten o’clock he ordered them to march from the field by brigades, leaving strong picquets to guard the ground, and give notice if the enemy approached. Major-General Beresford, with a rear-guard of about 2000 men, to cover the embarkation, occupied the lines in front of Coruña. Major-General Hill, with a corps of reserve, was stationed on a promontory behind the town. Nearly the whole army was embarked during the night: the picquets were withdrawn and embarked also before day, little remaining ashore at daylight except the rear-guard and the ♦Jan. 17.♦ reserve. The French, seeing this, pushed on their light troops to the heights of St. Lucia, which command the harbour, got up some cannon to a rising ground, and fired at the transports. Several of the masters of these vessels were frightened, and cut their cables: four of them ran a-ground. The men were put on board other ships, and these were burnt. During the night of the 17th, and the following morning, Beresford sent off all the sick and wounded who were in a condition to bear removal: and lastly, the rear-guard got into the boats, no attempt being made to interrupt them. Thus terminated our first campaign in Spain.

END OF VOL. II.

LONDON:
PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS.