A PAUSE
The Mayo Fusiliers had suffered their full proportion of losses at the
battle of Vimiera. Major Harrison had been killed, Captain O'Connor had
been severely wounded, as his company had been thrown forward as
skirmishers on the face of the hill, and a third of their number had
fallen when Laborde's great column had driven them in as it charged up the
ascent. Terence's father had been brought to the ground by a ball that
struck him near the hip; had been trampled on by the French as they passed
up over him, and again on their retreat; and he was insensible when, as
soon as the enemy retired, a party was sent down to bring up the wounded.
By the death of the major, O'Connor, as senior captain, now attained that
rank, but the doctor pronounced that it would be a long time before he
would be able to take up his duties. Another captain and three subalterns
had been killed, and several other officers had been wounded. Among these
was O'Grady, whose left arm had been carried away below the elbow by a
round shot. As Terence was in the other wing of the regiment he did not
hear of his father's wounds until after the battle was over, and on the
order being given that there was to be no pursuit the regiment fell out of
its ranks. As soon as the news reached him he obtained permission to go
down to Vimiera, where the church and other buildings had been turned into
temporary hospitals, to which the seriously wounded had been carried as
soon as the French retired. Hurrying down, he soon learned where the
wounded of General Fane's brigade had been taken. He found the two
regimental doctors hard at work. O'Flaherty came up to Terence as soon as
he saw him enter the barn that had been hastily converted into a hospital
by covering the floor deeply with straw.
[Illustration: 'I should not have minded being hit, Father, if you had
escaped.']
"I think your father will do, Terence, my boy," he said, cheeringly; "we
have just got the bullet out of his leg, and we hope that it has not
touched the bone, though we cannot be altogether sure. We shall know more
about that when we have got through the rough of our work. Still, we have
every hope that he will do well. He is next the door at the further end;
we put him there to let him get as much fresh air as possible, for, by the
powers, this place is like a furnace!"
Captain O'Connor was lying on his back, the straw having been arranged so
as to raise his shoulders and head. He smiled when Terence came up to him.
"Thank God you have got safely through it, lad!"
"I should not have minded being hit, father, if you had escaped," Terence
said, with difficulty suppressing a sob, while in spite of his efforts the
tears rolled down his cheeks.
"The doctors say I shall pull through all right. I hear poor Harrison is
killed; he was a good fellow. Though it has given me my step, I am
heartily sorry. So we have thrashed them, lad; that is a comfort. I was
afraid when they went up the hill that they might be too much for us, and
I was delighted when I heard them coming tearing down again, though I had
not much time to think about it. They had stepped over me pretty much as
they went up, but they had no time to pick their way as they came back
again, and after one or two had jumped on me, I remembered no more about
it until I found myself here with O'Flaherty probing the wound and hurting
me horribly. I am bruised all over, and I wonder some of my ribs are not
broken; at present they hurt me a good deal more than this wound in the
hip. Still, that is only an affair of a day or two. Who have been killed
besides the major?"
"Dorman, Phillips, and Henderson are killed. O'Grady is wounded, I hear,
and so are Saunders, Byrne, and Sullivan; there have been some others hit,
but not seriously; they did not have to fall out."
"O'Grady is over on the other side somewhere, Terence; I heard his voice
just now. Go and see where he is hurt."
O'Grady was sitting up with his back to the wall; the sleeves of his
jacket and shirt had been cut off, and a tourniquet was on his arm just
above the elbow.
"Well, Terence," he said, cheerfully, "I am in luck, you see."
"I can't see any luck about it, O'Grady."
"Why, man, it might have been my right arm, and where should I have been
then? As to the left arm, one can do without it very well. Then, again, it
is lucky that the ball hit me below the elbow and not above it. O'Flaherty
says they will be able to make a dacent job of it, and that after a bit
they will be able to fit a wooden arm on, so that I can screw a fork into
it. The worst of it at present is, that I have a terrible thirst on me,
and nothing but water have they given me, a thing that I have not drunk
for years. They have tied up the arteries, and they are going presently to
touch up the loose ends with hot pitch to stop the bleeding altogether. It
is not a pleasant job; they have done it to three or four of the men
already. One of them stood it well, but the others cried a thousand
murders. O'Flaherty has promised me a drink of whisky and water before
they do it, and just at present I feel as if I would let them burn all my
limbs at the same price. It is sorry I am, Terence, to hear that your
father is hit so hard, but O'Flaherty says he will get through it all
right. Well, he will get his majority, though I am mightily sorry that
Harrison is killed; he was a good boy, though he was an Englishman. Ah,
Terence, my heart's sore when I think what I said that evening after the
fight at Rolica! I did not mean it altogether, but the words come home to
me now. It is not for meself but for the poor boys that have gone. It was
just thoughtlessness, but I would give me other arm not to have said those
words."
"I know that you did not mean it, O'Grady, and we were all feeling sorry
that the regiment had not had a chance to be in the thick of it."
"Here they are, coming this way with the pitch kettle. You had better get
away, lad, before they begin."
Terence was glad to follow the advice, and hurried out of the barn and
walked three or four hundred yards away. He was very fond of O'Grady, who
had always been very kind to him, and who was thoroughly warm-hearted and
a good fellow, in spite of his eccentricities. In a quarter of an hour he
returned. Just as he was entering, O'Flaherty came out of the door.
"I must have a breath of fresh air, Terence," he said. "The heat is
stifling in there, and though we are working in our shirt-sleeves we are
just as damp as if we had been thrown into a pond."
"Has O'Grady's arm been seared?"
"Yes, and he stood it well; not a word did he say until it was over. Then
he said, 'Give me another drink, O'Flaherty; it's wake-like I feel.'
Before I could get the cup to his lips he went off in a faint. He has come
round now and has had a drink of weak whisky and water, and is lying quiet
and composed. It is better that you should not go near him at present. I
hope that he will drop off to sleep presently. I have just given a glance
at your father, and he is nearly, if not quite, asleep too, so you had
better leave them now and look in again this evening. Now that the affair
is over, and there is time to go round, they will clear out some houses
and get things more comfortable. The principal medical officer was round
here half an hour ago. He said they would fit up rooms for the officers at
once, and I will have your father, O'Grady, and Saunders carried up on
stretchers and put into a room together. If they can bear the moving it
will be all in their favour, for it will be cooler there than in this oven
of a place. I hear the church has been requisitioned, and that the worst
cases among our men will be taken there."
In comparison with the loss of the French that of the British had been
very small. From their position on commanding heights they had suffered
but little from the fire of the French artillery, and the casualties were
almost confined to Fane's brigade, the 43d Regiment, Anstruther's, and the
two regiments of Ferguson's brigade that had been attacked by Brennier,
and before nightfall the whole of the wounded had been brought in and
attended to, the hospitals arranged, and the men far more comfortably
bestowed than in the temporary quarters taken up during the heat of the
conflict. As there was no prospect of an immediate movement, the soldier
servants of the wounded officers had been excused from military duty and
told off to attend to them, and when Terence went down in the evening he
found his father, O'Grady, and Saunders--the latter a young
lieutenant--comfortably lodged in a large room in which three hospital
beds had been placed. O'Grady had quite recovered his usual good spirits.
"Don't draw such along face, Terence," he said, as the lad entered; "we
are all going on well. Your father has been bandaged all over the chest
and body, and is able to breathe more comfortably; as for me, except that
I feel as if somebody were twisting a red-hot needle about in my arm, I am
as right as possible, and Saunders is doing first-rate. The doctors
thought at first that he had got a ball through his body; after they got
him here they had time to examine him carefully, and they find that it has
just run along the ribs and gone out behind, and that he will soon be
about again. If it wasn't that the doctors say I must drink nothing but
water with lemon-juice squeezed into it, I would have nothing to complain
of. We have got our servants. Hoolan came in blubbering like a calf, the
omadhoun, and I had to threaten to send him back to the regiment before he
would be sensible. He has sworn off spirits until I am well enough to take
to them, which is a comfort, for I am sorry to say he is one of those men
who never know when they have had enough."
"Like master, like man, O'Grady."
"Terence, when I get well you will repint of your impudence to your
supayrior officer, when he is not able to defend himself."
Terence went across to his father's bed.
"Do you really feel easier, father?"
"A great deal, lad. I was so bruised that every breath I took hurt me;
since I have been tightly bandaged I am better, ever so much. Daly says
that in a few days I shall be all right again as to that, but that the
other business will keep me on my back for a long time. He has examined my
wound again, and says he won't touch it for a few days; but I can see that
he is rather afraid that the bone has been grazed if not splintered. You
have not heard what is going to be done, have you?"
"No, father; the talk is that no move will be made anyhow until Sir John
Moore lands with his troops; after that I suppose we shall go forward."
"It is a pity we did not push forward to-day, lad, if, as I hear, half the
force were never engaged at all. Junot would not have carried off a gun if
our fellows had been launched against them while they were in disorder. As
it is, I hear they have marched away over that ridge in as good order as
they came, and so we shall have all the work of thrashing them to do over
again."
"They say that is what Sir Arthur wanted to do, father, but Burrard
overruled him."
"Did any man ever hear of such nonsense as a general who knows nothing at
all about the matter coming and taking over the command from a general who
has just won a battle, and who has all the ins and outs of the matter at
his finger-ends!"
"Now, my dear O'Connor," O'Grady broke in, "you know what Daly said, the
quieter you lie and the less you talk the better. He did not say so to
meself; in the first place, because he knew it would be of no use, and in
the second, because there is no raison on earth why, because a man has
lost a bit of his arm, his tongue should not wag. And what does the
colonel say, Terence; is he not delighted with the regiment?"
"He is that, and he has a right to be," Terence said. "The way they went
at the French, and tumbled them over the crest and down the hill was
splendid. The tears rolled down his cheeks when he heard that the major
and the others were killed, but he said that a man could not die more
gloriously. He shook hands with all the officers after it was over, and
sent a party down to the town to buy and bring up some barrels of wine,
and served out a good allowance to each man. As soon as the firing ceased
I heard him tell O'Driscol that he was proud to have commanded the
regiment."
"That is good, Terence; and now, do you think that you could bring me up
just a taste of the cratur?"
"The divil a drop, O'Grady; if Daly and O'Flaherty both say that you are
not to have it, it is certain that it is bad for you. But I'll tell you
what I will do; I have one bottle of whisky left, and I will promise you
that it sha'n't be touched till you are well enough to drink it, and if we
are marched away, as I suppose we shall be, I will hand it over to
O'Flaherty to give you when you are fit to take it. He tells me that he
will be left to look after the wounded when we move."
"I could not trust him, Terence; I would hand over a bag of gold uncounted
to him, but as for whisky, the temptation would be too great for an
Irishman to resist. Look here, you put it into a wooden box and nail it up
securely, and write on it 'O'Grady's arm,' and hand it over to him
solemnly, and tell him that I have a fancy for burying the contents
myself, which will be true enough, though it is me throat I mean to bury
it in."
Knowing that it was best they should be left in quiet, Terence soon left
them and returned to the regiment.
"Well, Dick, what did you think of a battle?" he asked his chum.
"I don't quite know what I did think. It does not seem to me that I
thought much about it at all, what with the noise of the firing and the
shouting of the men, and the whistle overhead of the French round shot,
and the men cheering, the French shouting and the excitement, there was no
time for thinking at all. From the time the skirmishers came running up
the hill to the time when we rolled the French down it, I seem to have
been in a dream. It's lucky that I had no words of command to give, for I
am sure I should not have given them. I don't think I was frightened at
all; somehow I did not seem to think of the danger. It was just a horrible
confusion."
"I felt very much like that, too. It was not a bit like what it was when
we took that brig; I felt cool enough when we jumped on to her deck. But
then there was no noise to speak of, while the row this morning was
tremendous. I tried to cheer when the men did, but I could not hear my own
voice, and I don't know whether I made any sound or not."
A delay of some weeks took place after the battle of Vimiera. The Mayo
Fusiliers were not among the troops who entered Lisbon in order to overawe
the populace and prevent attacks both upon French soldiers and officers,
and Portuguese suspected of leaning towards the French cause. Throughout
the country everything was in confusion. A strong party, at whose head
were the Bishop of Oporto and Friere, denounced the convention with the
French--against whom they themselves had done nothing--as gross treachery
on the part of the English to Portugal. They endeavoured in every way to
excite the feelings of the population, both in the country and the
capital, against the British; but in this they failed altogether, for the
people were too thankful to get rid of the oppression and exactions of the
invaders to feel aught but satisfaction at their being compelled to leave
the country.
The Junta at Oporto, at whose head was the bishop, desired to grasp the
entire power throughout the country, and were furious at being thwarted in
their endeavours to prevent a central Junta being established at Lisbon.
Throughout Spain also chaos reigned. Each provincial Junta refused
co-operation with others, and instead of concerting measures for
resistance against the great force that Napoleon was assembling on the
frontier, thought only of satisfying the ambitions and greed of its
members. The generals disregarded alike the orders from the central Junta
at Madrid and those of the provincial Juntas, quarrelled among themselves
to a point that sometimes approached open hostility, and each acted only
for his private ends. Arms had been sent in vast numbers from England;
yet, while the money so lavishly bestowed by British agents went into the
pockets of individuals, the arms were retained by the Juntas of Seville,
Cadiz, and the maritime ports, and the armies of Spain were left almost
unarmed.
The term army is indeed absurd, as applied to the gatherings of peasants
without, an idea of discipline, with scarcely any instruction in drill,
and in the majority of, cases, as the result proved, altogether deficient
in courage; and yet, while neglecting all military precautions and ready
to crumble to pieces at the first approach of the French, the arrogance
and insolence of the authorities, civil and military alike, were
absolutely unbounded. They disregarded wholly the advice of the British
officers and agents, and treated the men who alone could save them from
the consequences of their folly with open contempt.
After a fortnight's halt at Vimiera the Mayo Fusiliers were marched, with
four other regiments, to Torres Vedras, where they took up their quarters.
In the middle of October O'Grady and Saunders rejoined, and Terence
obtained a few days' leave to visit his father.
The latter's progress had been slow; the wound was unhealed, pieces of
bone working their way out, and the doctors had decided that he must be
invalided home, as it was desirable to clear out the hospitals altogether
before the army marched into Spain.
"They think the change of air will do me good," Major O'Connor said to
Terence, as they were chatting together after the latter arrived, "and I
think so myself. It is evident that I cannot take part in the next
campaign, but I hope to rejoin again in the spring. Of course it is hard,
but I must not grumble; if the bullet had been half an inch more to the
right it would have smashed the bone altogether, then I should have had
small chance indeed, for taking off the leg at the hip is an operation
that not one man in twenty survives. O'Flaherty says he thinks that all
the bits of bone have worked out now, and that I may not be permanently
lame; but if it is to be so, lad, it is of no use kicking against fate. I
have got my majority, and if permanently disabled by my wounds, can retire
on a pension on which I can live comfortably.
"So I hear that Sir John Moore is going to march into Spain. By the way,
you have got some cousins in Oporto or the neighbourhood, though I don't
suppose you are likely to run against them."
"I never heard you say anything about them before, father."
"No; I don't think that I ever did mention it. A first cousin of mine went
over, just about the time that I was married, to Oporto, and established
himself there as a wine merchant. He had been out there before for a firm
in Dublin, and when Clancy's father died, and he came into some money he
went out, as I said, and started for himself. He was a sharp fellow and
did well, and married the daughter of a big land-owner. We used to hear
from him occasionally. He died about a year ago, and left a girl behind
him; she had been brought up in her mother's religion. He never said much
about his wife, but I fancy she was a very strong Roman Catholic, and that
they did not quite agree about the girl, who, as I gathered, had a
hankering after her father's religion. However, after Clancy died we never
heard any more of them.
"There was a letter from their man of business announcing the death, and
stating that Clancy had left his own property, that is to say, the money
he had made in business, to the girl. What has become of her since I do
not know. It was no business of mine, though I believe that I was his
nearest relation--at least my uncle had no other children, and there were
neither brothers nor sisters except him and my father. Still, as he left a
widow who had a good big property on her own account, and was connected
with a lot of grandee families, there was no occasion for me to mix myself
up in the affair; and, indeed, it never entered my head to do so. Yet,
Clancy and I were great friends, and I should be glad to know what has
become of his girl. I fancy that she is about your age, and if Moore
should take you up north you might make some inquiries there. The mother's
family name was Montarlies, and I fancy, from what Clancy said, her
father's property was somewhere to the north of Oporto, so I expect that
at that town you would be likely to hear something of them."
"All right, father; if we go there I will be sure to make some inquiries."
On the fourth day after Terence's arrival the hospital was broken up, the
convalescents marched for Torres Vedras, and Major O'Connor, with four
other officers and forty men, were put on board a ship to be taken to
England.
"Your visit has done your father good, Terence," O'Flaherty said, as,
after seeing the party safely on board ship, he returned to the town
whence they were to march with the convalescents, sixty in number, among
whom were five officers. "He has brightened up a deal the last four days,
and his wound looks distinctly more healthy. I have a strong hope that all
those splinters have worked out now, and your being here has given him a
fillip, so that he is altogether better and more cheerful. I hope by the
spring he will be able to rejoin us. I can tell you I am mighty glad to be
off again myself. It has been pretty hard work here, for I have had, for
the last fortnight, a hundred and twenty men on my hands. At first there
were three of us here, but two went off with the last batch of
convalescents, and I have been alone since. Luckily Major Peters has been
well enough to look after things in general, and help the commissariat
man; still, with forty bad cases, I have not had much time on my hands. Of
course I knew him and all the other officers, but they all belonged to
other regiments, and it was not like being among the Mayos. And when do
you think we will be starting again?"
"I have no idea. I have heard that Moore is doing everything he can to
hurry on things, but that he is awfully hampered for want of money. It is
scandalous. Here are our agents supplied with immense sums for the use of
these blackguard Spaniards, yet they keep their own army without funds."
"If the general has no funds, Terence, he had better be stopping where he
is. There is no getting anything in Portugal without paying ten times the
proper price for it, and from what I hear of the Spaniards they will
charge twenty times, put the money in their pockets, and then not even
give you what you paid for. As to their being any good to us as allies, it
is not to be hoped for; they will take our arms and our money, expect us
to feed their troops, and will then run away at the sight of a French
soldier; you will see if they don't."
"I hear that the Junta of Corunna says that all the north will rise as
soon as we enter their country."
"They may rise and flock round us until they have got arms and money, and
then they will go off to their homes again. That is the sort of assistance
that is to be had from them. We should do a deal better if there was not a
Spaniard in the country, and it was left to us to fight it out with the
French."
"In that case, O'Flaherty, we should never cross the frontier at all. They
say that Napoleon is gathering a great army, and against such a force,
with the French troops already in Spain, our twenty or twenty-five
thousand men would fare very badly, especially as they say that the
emperor is coming himself."
"That is worse news than the other, Terence. It is only because the French
generals have always been quarrelling among themselves that the whole
Peninsula has not been conquered; but with Napoleon at the head of affairs
it would be a different matter altogether, and my humble opinion is that
we had better stay where we are until he has wiped out the Spaniards
altogether."
Terence laughed.
"You don't take a sanguine view of things."
"You have been with the regiment, Terence, and have had very little to do
with the natives. I have not seen very much of them either, thank
goodness; but I have seen quite enough to know that though perhaps the
peasants would make good soldiers, if officered by Englishmen, there is
mighty little feeling of patriotism among the classes above them. Reading
and writing may be good for some countries, but as far as I see here,
reading and writing spoil them here, for every man one comes across who
can sign his name is intent either on filling his pocket, or on working
some scheme or other for his own advantage. If I were Sir John Moore I
would send up a division to Oporto, hang the bishop and every member of
the Junta, shoot Friere and a dozen of his principal officers, and if the
people of Oporto gave them the chance clear the streets with grape-shot.
Why, if it hadn't been for a small guard of our fellows with the French
garrisons that were marched down there to embark, the Portuguese would
have murdered every man-jack of them. They did murder a good many, and
robbed them all of their baggage; and if it had not been that our men
loaded and would have fired on them if they had gone further, not a
Frenchman would have got off alive. If this had been done in Lisbon, where
the French had been masters, there might have been some sort of excuse for
it; but they had never been near Oporto at all, and therefore the people
there had no scores to settle with them."
"I am afraid, O'Flaherty, that an army worked on your principles would
never get far from the coast, for we should have the whole country against
us."
"So much the better if we never got far from the coast. How much help have
we had from them? There is not a single horse or waggon for transport
except those we have hired at exorbitant prices; not a single ounce of
food. They would not even divide with us the magazines at Leirya, which
they had no share in capturing. The rabble they call an army has never
fired a shot or marched a yard with us, except Trant's small command, and
they were kept so far out of it in both fights, that I doubt whether they
fired a shot; and yet they take upon themselves to throw every obstacle in
our way, to dictate to our generals, and to upset every plan as soon as it
is formed.
"Well, I shall be glad to be back with the regiment again, Terence. There
is some fun going on there anyhow, and I have not had a hearty laugh since
O'Grady went off ten days ago."
"We were all heartily glad to see him back again," Terence said. "He does
not seem a bit the worse for having lost his hand."
"No, he has got through it a deal better than I had expected, considering
that he is not what might be called a very temperate man."
"Not by any means. It is not very often that he takes more liquor than he
can carry, but he generally goes very close to the mark."
"I kept him very short here," O'Flaherty laughed, "and told him that if he
did not obey orders I would have him invalided home; I have got him to
promise that he will draw in a bit in future, and have good hopes of his
keeping it, seeing that when the army starts again you won't get much
chance of indulging."
"It will be a good thing for others as well as O'Grady," Terence said,
quietly. "I suppose in Ireland the whisky does not do much harm, seeing
that it is a wet country; but here I notice that they cannot drink half as
much as they were accustomed to without feeling it."
"That is true for you, Terence. Half a bottle here goes as far as a bottle
in the old country; and I find with the wounded, spirits have a very bad
effect, even in very small quantities. There is one thing, when the troops
are on the march they not only get small chance of getting drink, but
mighty little time to think of it. When you have been doing your twenty
miles a day, with halts and stoppages on these beastly roads and defiles,
and are on your feet from daylight until late in the evening, and then,
perhaps, a turn at the outposts, a man hasn't got much time for divarshon;
and even if there is liquor to be had, he is glad enough when he has had a
glass or so to wrap himself in his cloak and lie down to sleep. I have
nearly sworn off myself, for I found that my head troubled me in the
morning after a glass or two, more than it did after an all-night's
sitting at Athlone. Ah, Terence, it is lucky for you that you have no
fancy for it!"
"I hope I never shall have, O'Flaherty. If one has got thoroughly wet
through in a long day's fishing, it may be that a glass of punch may keep
away a cold, though even that I doubt. But I am sure that I am better
without it at any other time; and I hope some day the fashion will change,
and instead of it being considered almost as a matter of course after a
dinner that half the men should be under the table, it will then be looked
upon as disgraceful for a man to get drunk, as it is now for a woman to do
so."
O'Flaherty looked at his companion with amused surprise. "Faith, Terence,
that would be a change indeed, and you might as well say that you hope the
time will come when you can whip off a fellow's leg without his feeling
pain."
"Perhaps that may come too," Terence laughed; "there is no saying."
The next morning the detachment started at daybreak and marched to Torres
Vedras, where they heard that a general movement was expected to begin.
The regiment had now a comfortable mess, and the situation was freely
discussed as scraps of news arrived from Lisbon. Could the English
ministry have heard the comments on their imbecility passed by the
officers of the British army, even they might have doubted the perfect
wisdom of their plan. On the 6th of October, Moore had received a despatch
stating that 30,000 infantry and 5,000 cavalry were to be employed in the
north of Spain. Ten thousand of these were to be sent out direct from
England, the remainder were to be composed of regiments from the army in
Portugal. Moore had the choice of taking the troops round in ships or of
marching them direct. He decided upon the latter course, for arrangements
had been made by Sir Hew Dalrymple to enter Spain by Almeida, and,
moreover, he thought that the resources of the sea-coast of Galicia would
not be more than sufficient to supply transport and food for the 10,000
men who were to land there under the command of Sir David Baird.
The English general's difficulties were indeed overwhelming. He had
soldiers who, although but recently raised, had shown themselves good
fighters; but he was altogether without even transport sufficient for the
officers. With an ample supply of money, an experienced staff, and a
well-organized commissariat, the difficulties might have been overcome,
but Sir John Moore was practically without money. His staff had no
experience whatever, and the commissariat and transport officers were
alike ignorant of the work they were called upon to perform. He was
unacquainted with the views of the Spanish government, and uninformed as
to the numbers, composition, and situation of the Spanish armies with whom
he was to act, or with those of the enemy. He had a winter march of 300
miles before he could join Sir David Baird, who would have 200 miles to
march from Corunna to join him, and there was then a distance of another
300 miles to be traversed before he reached the Ebro, which was designated
as the centre of his operations.
And all this had to be done while a great French army was already pouring
in through the passes of the Pyrenees. No more tremendous, or, it may be
said, impossible, task was ever assigned to an English commander; and to
add to the absurdity of their scheme, the British government sent off Sir
David Baird without instructions, and even without money. The Duke of York
had vainly protested against the plan of the ministry, and had pointed out
that nothing short of an army of 60,000 men, fully equipped with all
necessaries for war--money, transport, and artillery--could achieve
success of any kind.
Upon the day Terence rejoined, news came from the engineers in advance
that the assurances Sir John Moore had received that the road by which the
army was to travel was perfectly practicable for artillery and
baggage-waggons, were wholly false, and it was probable that the artillery
and cavalry would have to make a long circuit to the south.
It was too late now to change the route for the rest of the army. Nearly
half the force had already started on the road to Almeida, and the
supplies for their subsistence had been collected at that town. Therefore
it was necessary that the main body of the infantry should travel by that
road, while three thousand were to act as a guard for the artillery and
cavalry on the other route.