THE RETREAT
O'Grady asked no questions, but presently whispered to Terence: "Faith, ye
did it well, me boy."
"Did what well, O'Grady?"
"You need not tell me about it, Terence. I was expecting it. Didn't I
spake to ye the day before about it, and didn't I feel sure that something
would come of it? When that row began last night, I looked at you hard and
saw you wink at that young spalpeen, Dicky Ryan; and sure all the time
that we were standing there, formed up, I well-nigh burst the buttons off
me coatee in holding in me laughter, when everyone else was full of
excitement.
"'Are you ill, O'Grady?' the colonel said, for I had to sit meself down on
some steps and rock meself to and fro to aise meself. 'Is it sick ye are?'
'A sudden pain has saised me, Colonel,' says I, 'but I will be all right
in a minute.' 'Take a dram out of me flask,' says he; something must have
gone wrong wid ye.' I took a drink--"
"That I may be sure you did," Terence interrupted.
"--And thin told him that I felt better; but as we marched down through
the crowd and saw the fright of the men, and the women screaming in their
night-gowns at the windows, faith, I well-nigh choked."
"Have you spoken to Ryan about this absurd suspicion, O'Grady?"
"I spoke to him, but I might as well have spoke to a brick wall. Divil a
thing could I get out of him. How did you manage it at all, lad?"
"How could I manage it?" Terence said, indignantly. "No, no, O'Grady; I
know you did make some remark about that scare at Athlone, and said it
would be fun to have one here. I was a little shocked at hearing such a
thing from, as you often say, a superior officer, and it certainly appears
to me that it was you who first broached the idea. So I have much more
right to feel a suspicion that you had a hand in the carrying of it out
than for you to suspect me."
"Well, Terence," O'Grady said, in an insinuating way, "I won't ask you any
questions now, and maybe some day when you have marched away from this
place, you will tell me the ins and outs of the business."
"Maybe, O'Grady, and perhaps you will also confess to me how you managed
to bring the scare about."
"Go along wid you, Terence, it is yourself knows better than anyone else
that I had nothing to do with it, and I will never forgive you until you
make a clean breast of it to me."
"We shall see about it," Terence laughed. "Anyhow, if you allude to the
subject again, I shall feel it my duty to inform the colonel of my reasons
for suspecting that you were concerned in spreading those false reports
last night."
"It was first-rate, wasn't it?" Dick Ryan said, as he joined Terence, when
the latter left the mess-room.
"It was good fun, Dicky; but I tell you, for a time I was quite as much
scared as anyone else. I never thought that it would have gone quite so
far. When it came to all the troops turning out, and Sir John and
everyone, I felt that there would be an awful row if we were ever found
out."
"It was splendid, Terence. I knew that we could not be found out when we
had not told a soul. Did you ever see such a funk as the Spaniards were
all in, and after all their bragging and the airs that they had given
themselves. Our men were so savage at their cowardice, that I believe they
would have liked nothing better than an order to pitch into them. And
didn't the women yell and howl? It is the best lark we have ever had."
"It is good fun to look back at, Dicky, but I shall be glad when we are
out of this. The Spanish authorities are making all sorts of inquiries,
and I have no doubt that they will get hold of some of the men in that
wine-shop, and it will come out that two British officers started the
alarm."
"What if it did?" Ryan said. "There were only two wretched candles burning
in the place, and they could not have got a fair sight at us, and indeed
they all jumped up and bolted the moment we spoke. I will bet that there
is not one among them who would be able to swear to us though we were
standing before him; and I have no doubt if they were questioned every man
would give a different account of what we were like. I have no fear that
they will ever find us out. Still, I shall be glad when we are out of this
old place. Not because I am afraid about our share in that business being
discovered, but we have been here nearly a fortnight now, and as we know
there is a strong French force within ten miles of us, I think that it is
about time that the fun began. You don't think that we are going to
retreat, do you?"
"I don't know any more about it than you do, Dicky; but I feel absolutely
sure that we shall retreat. I don't see anything else for us to do. Every
day fresh news comes in about the strength of the French, and as the
Spanish resistance is now pretty well over, and Madrid has fallen, they
will all be free to march against us; and even when Hope has joined us we
shall only be about 20,000 strong, and they have, at the least, ten times
that force. I thing we shall be mighty lucky if we get back across the
frontier into Portugal before they are all on us."
Sir John Moore, however, was not disposed to retire without doing
something for the cause of Spain. The French armies had not yet penetrated
into the southern provinces, and he nobly resolved to make a movement that
would draw the whole strength of the French towards him, and give time for
the Spaniards in the south to gather the remains of their armies together
and organize a resistance to the French advance. In view of the number and
strength of the enemy, no more heroic resolution was ever taken by a
military commander, and it was all the more to be admired, inasmuch as he
could hope to win no victory that would cover himself and his army with
glory, no success that would satisfy the public at home, and at best he
could but hope, after long, fatiguing, and dangerous marches, to effect
his retreat from the overwhelming forces that would be hurled against him.
While remaining at Salamanca, Sir John, foreseeing that a retreat into
Portugal must be finally carried out, took steps to have magazines
established on two of the principal routes to the coast, that a choice
might be left open to him by which to retire when he had accomplished his
main object of diverting the great French wave of invasion from the south.
On the 11th of December the march began, and for the next ten days the
army advanced farther and farther into the country. So far Moore had only
Soult's army opposing his advance towards Burgos, and it might be possible
to strike a heavy blow at that general before Napoleon, who was convinced
that the British must fall back into Portugal if they had not already
begun to do so, should come up. He had been solemnly assured that he
should be joined by Romana with 14,000 picked men, but that general had
with him but 5,000 peasants, who were in such a miserable condition that
when the British reached the spot where the junction was to be effected,
he was ashamed to show them, and marched away into Leon.
The British, in order to obtain forage, were obliged to move along several
lines of route. Sir David Baird's division joined them as they advanced,
and when they reached the Carrion their effective force amounted to 23,583
men, with sixty pieces of artillery. On the French side, Soult had--on
hearing of the British advance to the north-east, by which, if successful,
they would cut the French lines of communication between Madrid and the
frontier--called up all his detached troops, and wrote to the governor of
Burgos to divert to his assistance all troops coming along the road from
France, whatever their destination might be.
On the 21st Lord Paget, with the 10th and 15th Hussars, surprised a French
cavalry force at Sahagun, and ordered the 15th to turn their position and
endeavour to cut them off. When with the 10th Hussars Lord Paget arrived
in the rear of the village, he found six hundred French dragoons drawn up
and ready to attack him. He at once charged and broke them and pursued
them for some distance. Twenty were killed, thirteen officers and 154 men
taken prisoners. On the 23d, Soult had concentrated his forces at the town
of Carrion, and that night the British troops were got in motion to attack
them, the two forces being about even in numbers; but scarcely had he
moved forward when reports, both from Romana and his own spies, reached
Sir John Moore to the effect that his march had achieved the object with
which it was undertaken. Orders had been sent by Napoleon for the whole of
the French armies to move at once against the British, while he himself,
with the troops at Madrid, 70,000 strong, had started by forced marches to
fall upon him.
The instant Moore received this information he arrested the forward
movement of his troops. His object had been attained. The French invasion
of the south was arrested, and time given to the Spaniards. There was
nothing now but to fall back with all speed. It was well indeed that he
did not carry out his intention of attacking Soult. The latter had that
day received orders from the emperor not to give battle, but to fall back,
and so tempt Moore to pursue, in which case his line of retreat would have
been intercepted and his army irretrievably lost.
The order to retreat was an unwelcome one indeed to the troops. For twelve
days they had marched through deep snow and suffered fatigues, privations,
and hardships. That evening they had expected to be repaid for their
exertions by a battle and a victory on the following morning, and the
order to retreat, coming at such a moment, was a bitter disappointment
indeed.
They were, of course, ignorant of the reasons for this sudden change, and
the officers shared the discontent of the troops, a feeling that largely
accounted for the disorders and losses that took place during the retreat.
Napoleon led his troops north with his usual impetuosity. The deep snow
choked the passes through the mountains. The generals, after twelve hours
of labour, reported the roads impracticable, but Napoleon placed himself
at the head of the column, and, amidst a storm of snow and driving hail,
led them over the mountain. With tremendous efforts he reached Desillas on
the 26th; while Houssaye entered Valladolid on the same day, and Ney, with
the 6th corps, arrived at Rio Seco.
Full of hope that he had caught the British, the emperor pushed on towards
Barras, only to find that he was twelve hours too late. Moore had, the
instant he received the news, sent back the heavy baggage with the main
body of infantry, himself following more slowly with the light brigade and
cavalry, the latter at times pushing parties up to the enemy's line and
skirmishing with his outposts to prevent Soult from suspecting that the
army had retreated. On the 26th the whole army, moving by different
routes, approached the river Esla, which they crossed in a thick fog,
which greatly hindered the operation. A brigade remained on the left bank
to protect the passage, for the enemy's cavalry were already close at
hand, and Soult was hotly pressing in pursuit.
A strong body of horse belonging to the emperor's army intercepted Lord
Paget near Mayorga, but two squadrons of the 10th Hussars charged up the
rising ground on which they had posted themselves, and, notwithstanding
their disadvantage in numbers and position, killed twenty and took a
hundred prisoners. Moore made but a short pause on the Esla, for that
position could be turned by the forces advancing from the south. He
waited, therefore, only until he could clear out his magazines, collect
his stragglers, and send forward his baggage. He ordered the bridge by
which the army had crossed to be broken down, and left Crawford to perform
this duty.
Short as the retreat had been, it had already sufficed to damage most
seriously the morale of the army. The splendid discipline and order that
had been shown during the advance was now gone; many of the regimental
officers altogether neglected their duties, and the troops were
insubordinate. Great numbers straggled, plundered the villages, and
committed excesses of all sorts, and already the general had been forced
to issue an order reproaching the army for its conduct, and appealing to
the honour of the soldiers to second his efforts. Valiant in battle,
capable of the greatest efforts on the march, hardy in enduring fatigue
and the inclemency of weather, the British soldier always deteriorates
rapidly when his back is turned to the enemy. Confident in his bravery,
regarding victory as assured, he is unable to understand the necessity for
retreat, and considers himself degraded by being ordered to retire, and
regards prudence on the part of his general as equivalent to cowardice.
The armies of Wellington deteriorated with the same rapidity as this
force, when upon two occasions it was necessary to retreat when threatened
by overwhelming forces; and yet, however disorganized, the British soldier
recovers his discipline the instant he is attacked, and fiercely turns
upon his pursuers. At the bridge across the Esla two privates of the 3d
gave an example of splendid courage and determination. It was night. Some
of the baggage was still on the farther bank, and the two men were posted
as sentries beyond the bridge, their orders being that if an enemy
appeared, one should fire and then run back to the bridge and shout to
warn the guard whether the enemy were in force or not. The other was to
maintain his post as long as possible.
[Illustration: WHAT DO YOU MEAN, TERENCE? WE WOULD HAVE THRASHED THEM OUT
OF THEIR BOOTS IN NO TIME]
During the night the light cavalry of the imperial guard rode down.
Jackson, one of the sentries, fired and ran back to give the alarm. He was
overtaken, and received over a dozen sabre cuts; nevertheless he staggered
on until he reached the bridge, and gave the signal. Walton, the other
sentry, with equal resolution stood his ground and wounded several of his
assailants, who, as they drew off, left him unhurt, although his cap,
knapsack, belt, and musket were cut in over twenty places, and his bayonet
bent double.
Terence O'Connor's duties had been light enough during the advance, but
during the three days of the retreat to the Esla he had been incessantly
occupied. He and Trevor had both been directed to ride backwards and
forwards along the line of the brigade to see that there was no straggling
in the ranks, and that the baggage carts in the rear kept close up. The
task was no easy one, and was unpleasant as well as hard. Many of the
officers plodded sulkily along, paying no attention whatever to their men,
allowing them to straggle as they chose; and they were obliged to report
several of the worst cases to the brigadier. With the Mayo Fusiliers they
had less trouble than with others. Terence had, when he joined them at
their first halt after the retreat began, found them as angry and
discontented as the rest at the unexpected order, and was at once assailed
with questions and complaints.
He listened to them quietly, and then said:
"Of course, if you all prefer a French prison to a few days' hard
marching, you have good reason to grumble at being baulked in your wishes;
that is all I have to say about it."
"What do you mean, Terence?" O'Grady asked, angrily. "Soult's force was
not stronger than ours, at least so we heard; and if it had been it would
make no difference, we would have thrashed them out of their boots in no
time."
"I dare say we should, O'Grady, and what then?"
"Well, I don't know what then," O'Grady said, after a moment's silence;
"that would have been the general's business."
"Quite so; and so is this. There you would have been with perhaps a couple
of thousand wounded and as many French prisoners, and Napoleon with 60,000
men or so, and Ney with as many more, and Houssaye with his cavalry
division, all in your rear cutting you off from the sea. What would have
been your course then?"
A general silence fell upon the officers.
"Is that so?" the colonel asked at last.
"That is so," Terence said, gravely. "All these and other troops are
marching night and day to intercept us. It is no question of fighting now.
Victory over Soult, so far from being of any use, would only have burdened
us with wounded and prisoners, and even a day's delay would be absolutely
fatal. As it is, it is a question whether we shall have time to get back
to the coast before they are all posted in our front. Every hour is of the
greatest importance. You all know that we have talked over lots of times
how dangerous our position is. General Fane told us, when the orders to
retreat were issued, that he believed the peril to be even more imminent
than we thought. We all know when we marched north from Salamanca, that,
without a single Spaniard to back us, all that could be hoped for was to
aid Saragossa and Seville and Cadiz to gather the levies in the south and
prepare for defence, and that erelong we should have any number of enemies
upon us. That is what has precisely happened, and now there is grumbling
because the object has been attained, and that you are not allowed to
fight a battle that, whether won or lost, would equally ruin us."
"Sure ye are right," O'Grady said, warmly, "and we are a set of omadhouns.
You have sense in your head, Terence, and there is no gainsaying you. I
was grumbling more than the rest of them, but I won't grumble any more.
Still, I suppose that there is no harm in hoping we shall have just a bit
of fighting before we get back to Portugal."
"We shall be lucky if we don't have a good deal of fighting, O'Grady, and
against odds that will satisfy even you. As to Portugal, there is no
chance of our getting there. Ney will certainly cut that road, and the
emperor will, most likely, also do so, as you can see for yourself on the
map."
"Divil a map have I ever looked at since I was at school," O'Grady said.
"Then if we can't get back to Portugal, where shall we get to?"
"To one of the northern seaports; of course, I don't know which has been
decided upon; I don't suppose the general himself has settled that yet. It
must depend upon the roads and the movements of the enemy, and whether
there is a defensible position near the port that we can hold in case the
fleet and transports cannot be got there by the time we arrive."
"Faith, Terence, ye're a walking encyclopeydia. You have got the matter at
your finger ends."
"I don't pretend to know any more than anyone else," Terence said, with a
laugh. "But of course I hear matters talked over at the brigade mess. I
don't think that Fane knows more of the general's absolute plans than you
do. I dare say the divisional generals know, but it would not go further.
Still, as Fane and Errington and Dowdeswell know something about war
besides the absolute fighting, they can form some idea as to the plans
that will be adopted."
"Well, Terence," the colonel said, "I didn't think the time was coming so
soon when I was going to be instructed by your father's son, but I will
own that you have made me feel that I have begun campaigning too late in
life, and that you have given me a lesson."
"I did not mean to do that, Colonel," Terence said, a good deal abashed.
"It was O'Grady I was chiefly speaking to."
"Your supeyrior officer!" O'Grady murmured.
"My superior officer, certainly," Terence went on, with a smile; "but who,
having, as he says, never looked at a map since he left school--while I
have naturally studied one every evening since we started from Torres
Vedras--can therefore know no more about the situation than does Tim
Hoolan. But I certainly never intended my remarks to apply to you,
Colonel."
"They hit the mark all the same, lad, and the shame is mine and not yours.
I think you have done us all good. One doesn't care when one is retreating
for a good reason, but when one marches for twelve days to meet an enemy,
and then, when just close to him, one turns one's back and runs away, it
is enough to disgust an Englishman, let alone an Irishman. Well, boys, now
we see it is all right, we will do our duty as well on the retreat as we
did on the advance, and divil a grumble shall there be in my hearing."
From that moment, therefore, the Mayo Fusiliers were an example to the
brigade. Any grumble in the ranks was met with a cheerful "Whist, boys! do
you think that you know the general's business better than he does
himself? It is plenty of fighting you are likely to get before you have
done, never fear. Now is the time, boys, to get the regiment a good name.
The general knows that we can fight. Now let him see that we can wait
patiently till we get another chance. Remember, the better temper you are
in, the less you will feel the cold."
So, laughing and joking, and occasionally breaking into a song, the Mayo
Fusiliers pushed steadily forward, and the colonel that evening
congratulated the men that not one had fallen out.
"Keep that up, boys," he said. "It will be a proud day for me when we get
to our journey's end, wherever that may be, to be able to say to the
brigadier: 'Except those who have been killed by the enemy, here is my
regiment just as it was when it started from the Carrion--not a man has
fallen out, not a man has straggled away, not a man has made a baste of
himself and was unfit to fall in the next morning.' I know them," he said
to O'Driscol, as the regiment was dismissed from parade. "They will not
fall out, they will not straggle, but if they come to a place where wine's
in plenty, they will make bastes of themselves; and after all," he added,
"after the work they have gone through, who is to blame them?"
At the halt the next evening at Bembibre the colonel's forebodings that
the men could not be trusted where liquor was plentiful were happily not
verified. There were immense wine-vaults in the town. These were broken
open, and were speedily crowded by disbanded Spaniards, soldiers,
camp-followers, muleteers, women and children--the latter taking refuge
there from the terrible cold. The rear-guard, to which the Mayo regiment
had been attached the evening before, found that Baird's division had gone
on, but that vast numbers of drunken soldiers had been left behind.
General Moore was himself with the rear-guard, and the utmost efforts were
made to induce the drunkards to rejoin their regiments. He himself
appealed to the troops, instructing the commanders of the different
regiments to say that he relied implicitly upon the soldiers to do their
duty. The French might at any moment be up, and every man must be in his
ranks. No men were to fall out or to enter any wine-house or cellar, but
each should have at once a pint of wine served out to him, and as much
more before they marched in the morning.
After the colonel read out this order, he supplemented it by saying, "Now,
boys, the credit of the regiment is at stake. It is a big honour that has
been paid you in choosing you to join the rear-guard, and you have got to
show that you deserve it. As soon as it can be drawn, you will have your
pint of wine each, which will be enough to warm your fingers and toes.
Wait here in the ranks till you have drunk your wine and eaten some of the
bread in your haversacks, and by that time I will see what I can do for
you. You will have another pint before starting; but mind, though I hope
there isn't a mother's son who would bring discredit on the regiment, I
warn you that I shall give the officers instructions to shoot down any man
who wanders from the ranks in search of liquor. The French may be here in
half an hour after we have started, and it is better to be shot than to be
sabred by a French dragoon, which will happen surely enough to every baste
who has drunk too much to go on with the troops."
Only a few murmurs were heard at the conclusion of the speech.
"Now, gentlemen," the colonel said, "will half a dozen of you see to the
wine. Get hold of some of those fellows loafing about there and make them
roll out as many barrels as will supply a pint to every man in the
regiment, ourselves as well as the men. O'Grady, take Lieutenant Horton
and Mr. Haldane and two sergeants with you. Here is my purse. Go through
the town and get some bread and anything else in the way of food that you
can lay your hands upon. And, if you can, above all things get some
tobacco."
O'Grady's search was for a time unsuccessful, as the soldiers and
camp-followers had already broken into the shops and stores. In an
unfrequented street, however, they came across a large building. He
knocked at the door with the hilt of his sword. It was opened after a time
by an old man.
"What house is this?"
"It is a tobacco factory," he replied.
"Be jabers, we have come to the right place. I want about half a ton of
it. We are not robbers, and I will pay for what we take." Then another
idea struck him. "Wait a moment, I will be back again in no time. Horton,
do you stay here and take charge of the men. I am going back to the
colonel."
He found on reaching the regiment that the men were already drinking their
wine and eating their bread.
"I am afraid I shall never keep them, O'Grady," the colonel said,
mournfully. "It is scarcely in human nature to see men straggling about as
full as they can hold, and know that there is liquor to be had for taking
it and not to go for it."
"It is all right, Colonel. I know that we can never keep the men if we
turn them into the houses to sleep; but I have found a big building that
will hold the whole regiment, and the best of it is that it is a tobacco
factory. I expect it is run by the authorities of the place, and as we are
doing what we can for them, they need not grudge us what we take; and
faith, the boys will be quiet and contented enough, so that they do but
get enough to keep their pipes going, and know that they will march in the
morning with a bit in their knapsacks."
"The very thing, O'Grady! Pass the word for the regiment to fall in the
instant they have finished their meal."
It was not long before they were ready, and in a few minutes, guided by
O'Grady, the head of the regiment reached the building.
"Who is the owner of this place?" the colonel asked the old man, who, with
a lantern in his hand, was still standing at the door.
"The Central Junta of the Province has of late taken it, your Excellency."
"Good! Then we will be the guests of the Central Junta of the Province for
the night." Then he raised his voice, "Boys, here is a warm lodging for
you for the night, and tobacco galore for your pipes; and, for those who
haven't got them, cigars. Just wait until I have got some lights, and then
file inside in good order."
There was no difficulty about this, for the factory was in winter worked
long after dark set in. In a very few minutes the place was lighted up
from end to end. The troops were then marched in and divided amongst the
various rooms.
"Now, boys, tell the men to smoke a couple of pipes, and then to lie down
to sleep. In the morning each man can put as much tobacco into his
knapsack and pockets as they will hold, and when we halt they can give
some of it away to regiments that have not been as lucky as themselves."
The men sat down in the highest state of satisfaction. Boxes of cigars
were broken open, and in a couple of minutes almost every man and officer
in the regiment had one alight in his mouth. There were few, however, who
got beyond one cigar; the warmth of the place after their long march in
the snow speedily had its effect, and in half an hour silence reigned in
the factory, save for a murmur of voices in one of the lower rooms where
the officers were located.
"O'Grady, you are a broth of a boy," the colonel said. "The men have
scarce had a smoke for the last week, and it will do them a world of good.
We have got them all under one roof, and there is no fear that anyone will
want to get out, and they will fall in in the morning as fresh as paint.
Half an hour before bugle-call three or four of you had best turn out with
a dozen men, and roll up enough barrels from the vaults to give them the
drink promised to them, before starting. Who will volunteer?"
Half a dozen officers at once offered to go, and a captain and three
lieutenants were told off for the work.
"They know how to make cigars, if they don't know anything else," Captain
O'Driscol said; "this is a first-rate weed."
"So it ought to be by the brand," another officer said. "I took the two
boxes from a cupboard that was locked up. There are a dozen more like
them, and I thought it was as well to take them out; they are at present
under the table. I have no doubt that they are real Havannas, and have
probably been got for some grandee or other."
"He will have to do without them," O'Grady said, calmly, as he lighted his
second cigar; "they are too good for any Spaniard under the sun. And,
moreover, if we did not take them you may be sure that the French would
have them to-morrow, and I should say that the Central Junta of the
Province will be mighty pleased to know that the tobacco was smoked by
their allies instead of by the French."
"I don't suppose that they will care much about it one way or another,"
O'Driscol remarked; "their pockets are so full of English gold that the
loss of a few tons of tobacco won't affect them much. I enjoy my cigar
immensely, and have the satisfaction of knowing that for once I have got
something out of a Spaniard--it is the first thing since I landed."
"Well, boys, we had better be off to sleep," the colonel said. "I am so
sleepy that I can hardly keep my eyes open, and you ought to be worse, for
you have tramped well-nigh forty miles to-day. See that the sentry at the
door keeps awake, Captain Humphrey; you are officer of the day; upon my
word I am sorry for you. Tell him he can light up if he likes, but if he
sees an officer coming round he must get rid of it. Mind the sentries are
changed regularly, for I expect that we shall sleep so soundly that if all
the bugles in the place were sounding an alarm we should not hear them."
"All right, Colonel! I have got Sergeant Jackson in charge of the reliefs
in the passage outside, and I think that I can depend upon him, but I will
tell him to wake me up whenever he changes the sentries. I don't say I
shall turn out myself, but as long as he calls me I shall know that he is
awake, and that it is all right. I had better tell him to call you half an
hour before bugle-call, Sullivan, so that you can wake the others and get
the wine here; he mustn't be a minute after the half-hour. Thank goodness,
we don't have to furnish the outposts to-night."
In ten minutes all were asleep on the floor, wrapped in their greatcoats,
the officer of the day taking his place next the door so that he could be
roused easily. Every hour one or other of the two non-commissioned
officers in charge of the guard in the passage opened the door a few
inches and said softly, "I am relieving the sentries, sir;" and each time
the officer murmured assent.
Sullivan was called at the appointed time, got up, and stretched himself,
grumbling:
"I don't believe that I have been asleep ten minutes."
On going out into the passage, however, where a light was burning, his
watch told him that it was indeed time to be moving. He woke the others,
and with the men went down to the cellars. Here the scene of confusion was
great; drunken men lay thickly about the floor, others sat, cup in hand,
talking, or singing snatches of song, Spanish or English. Hastily picking
out enough unbroken casks for the purpose, he set the men to carry them up
to the street, and they were then rolled along to the factory. Just as
they reached the door the bugle-call sounded; the men were soon on their
feet, refreshed by a good night's sleep. The casks were broached, and the
wine served out.
"It is awful, Colonel," Sullivan said. "There will be hundreds of men left
behind. There must have been over that number in the cellar I went into,
and there are a dozen others in the town. I never saw such a disgusting
scene."
Scarcely had they finished when the assemble sounded, and the regiment at
once fell-in outside the factory, every man with knapsack and haversack
bulging out with tobacco. They then joined the rest of the troops in the
main street. General Moore had made a vain attempt to rouse the besotted
men. A few of those least overcome joined the rear-guard, but the greater
number were too drunk to listen to orders, or even to the warning that the
French would be into the town as soon as the troops marched out.