boat-cloak to his dosing companion, stood to his arms, to be ready for
whatever changes daylight might have in store for him: nor had he to
wait long, for day had just begun to dawn when the sharp crack from
the rifle of one of the advanced sentries announced the approach of
the enemy, and he had just time to counsel his terrified bedfellow
to make the best of his way back to the division, while he himself
awaited to do battle. Nor had he much time for preparation, for, as
Napier says, "Ney, seeing Crawfurd's false dispositions, came down
upon them with the stoop of an eagle. Four thousand horsemen, and a
powerful artillery, swept the plain, and Loison's division coming up
at a charging pace, made towards the centre and left of the position."
Mac Culloch, almost instantly, received several bad sabre wounds, and,
with five-and-twenty of his men, was taken prisoner.
Rogers, it may be believed, lost no time in following the salutary
counsel he had received with as clever a pair of heels as he could
muster. The enemy's artillery had by this time opened, and, as the
devil would have it, the cannon-balls were travelling the same road,
and tearing up the ground on each side of him almost as regularly as
if it had been a ploughing match. Poor Rogers was thus placed in a
situation which fully justified him in thinking, as most young soldiers
do, that every ball was aimed at himself. He was half distracted; it
was certain death to stop where he was, neither flank offered him the
smallest shelter, and he had not wind enough left in his bellows to
clear the tenth part of the space between him and comparative safety;
but, where life is at stake, the imagination is fertile, and it
immediately occurred to him that by dowsing the cocked hat he would
make himself a less conspicuous object; clapping it, accordingly
under his arm, he continued his frightful career, with the feelings
of a maniac and the politeness of a courtier, for to every missile
that passed he bowed as low as his racing attitude would permit, in
ignorance that the danger had passed along with it, performing, to all
appearance, a continued rotatory sort of evolution, as if the sails of
a windmill had parted from the building, and continued their course
across the plain, to the utter astonishment of all who saw him. At
length, when exhausted nature could not have carried him twenty yards
further, he found himself among some skirmishers of the 3d Caçadores,
and within a few yards of a rocky ridge, rising out of the ground, the
rear of which seemed to offer him the long-hoped-for opportunity of
recovering his wind, and he sheltered himself accordingly.
This happened to be the first occasion in which the Caçadores had been
under fire; they had the highest respect for the bravery of their
British officers, and had willingly followed where their colonel had
led; but having followed him into the field, they did not see why
they should not follow another out of it, and when they saw a red coat
take post behind a rock, they all immediately rushed to take advantage
of the same cover. Poor Rogers had not, therefore, drawn his first
breath when he found himself surrounded by these Portuguese warriors,
nor had he drawn a second before their colonel (Sir George Elder) rode
furiously at him with his drawn sword, exclaiming "who are you, you
scoundrel, in the uniform of a British officer, setting an example of
cowardice to my men? get out of that instantly, or I'll cut you down!"
Rogers's case was desperate--he had no breath left to explain that he
had no pretensions to the honour of being an officer, for he would have
been cut down in the act of attempting it: he was, therefore, once
more forced to start for another heat with the round shot, and, like a
hunted devil, got across the bridge, he knew not how; but he was helm
up for England the same day, and the army never saw him more.
General Crawfurd's conduct in the affair alluded to, would argue that
his usual soldier-like wits had gone a wool-gathering for the time
being--he had, in fact, like a moth, been fluttering so long with
impunity around a consuming power that he had at length lost all sense
of the danger. But even then it is impossible to conceive upon what
principle he took up the position he did--for, in the first place, it
was in direct defiance of Lord Wellington's orders; and had the river
behind him been flowing with milk and honey, or had the rugged bank on
which he was posted been built of loaves and fishes, it would scarcely
have justified him in running the risk he did to preserve the sweets;
but as the one was flooded with muddy water, and the other only bearing
a crop of common stones, and when we consider, too, that the simple
passing of the river would have made a hundred of his troops equal to a
thousand of the invaders, we must continue lost in wonder.
It is difficult to imagine, however, that he ever contemplated the
possibility of stopping the French army but for the moment. Confiding,
probably, in the superiority of his troops, he had calculated on
successfully repelling their first attack, and that having thus taught
them the respect that was due to him, he might then have made a
triumphant retreat to the opposite bank, where, for a time, he could
safely have offered them further defiance.
If such was his object, (and it is the only plausible one I can find,)
he had altogether overlooked that for a man with one pair of arms to
grapple with another who had ten, it must rest with the ten-pair man to
say when the play is over, for although the one-pair man may disable an
equal number in his front, there are still nine pair left to poke him
in the sides and all round about; and thus the general found it; for
having once exposed himself to such overwhelming numbers, there was no
getting out of it but at a large sacrifice--and but for the experience,
the confidence, and the devotion of the different individual battalion
officers, seconded by the gallantry of the soldiers, the division had
been utterly annihilated. Napier, as an eye-witness, states, (what
I have often heard repeated by other officers who were there,) that
"there was no room to array the line, no time for any thing but battle,
every captain carried off his company as an independent body, and
joining as he could with the ninety-fifth or fifty-second, the whole
presented a mass of skirmishers acting in small parties, and under no
regular command, yet each confident in the courage and discipline of
those on his right and left, and all regulating their movements by a
common discretion, and keeping together with surprising vigour."
The result of the action was a loss on the British portion of the
division of two hundred and seventy-two, including twenty-eight
officers, killed, wounded, and taken.
It is curious to observe by what singular interpositions of Providence
the lives of individuals are spared. One of our officers happening
to have a pocket-volume of Gil Blas, was in the middle of one of his
interesting stories when the action commenced. Not choosing to throw
it away, he thrust it into the breast of his jacket for want of a
better place, and in the course of the day it received a musket-ball
which had been meant for a more tender subject. The volume was
afterwards, of course, treated as a tried friend.
Having, in one of the foregoing pages, introduced the name of Mac
Culloch in a prominent part of the action, I must be forgiven for
taking this opportunity of following him to the end of his highly
honourable earthly career.
John Mac Culloch was from Scotland, (a native, I believe, of
Kirkudbright;) he was young, handsome, athletic, and active; with the
meekness of a lamb, he had the heart of a lion, and was the delight of
every one. At the time I first became acquainted with him he had been
several years in the regiment, and had shared in all the vicissitudes
of the restless life they then led. I brought him under the notice of
the reader in marching off to relieve the advanced picquet on the night
prior to the action of the Coa.
For the information of those who are unacquainted with military
matters, I may as well mention that the command of an outline picquet
is never an enviable one--it is a situation at all times dangerous and
open to disgrace, but seldom to honour--for come what may, in the event
of an attack spiritedly made, the picquet is almost sure to go to the
wall. From the manner in which the French approached on the occasion
referred to, it may readily be imagined that my gallant friend had but
little chance of escape--it was, therefore, only left to him to do his
duty as an officer under the circumstances in which he was placed. He
gave the alarm, and he gave his visitors as warm a reception as his
fifty rifles could provide for them, while he gallantly endeavoured to
fight his way back to his battalion, but the attempt was hopeless; the
cavalry alone of the enemy ought to have been more than enough to sweep
the whole of the division off the face of the earth--and Mac Culloch's
small party had no chance; they were galloped into, and he, himself,
after being lanced and sabred in many places, was obliged to surrender.
Mac Culloch refused to give his parole, in the hope of being able
to effect his escape before he reached the French frontier; he was,
therefore, marched along with the men a close prisoner as far as
Valladolid, where fortune, which ever favours the brave, did not fail
him. The escort had found it necessary to halt there for some days, and
Mac Culloch having gained the goodwill of his conductor, was placed in
a private house under proper security, as they thought; but in this
said house there happened to be a young lady, and of what avail are
walls of brass, bolts, bars, or iron doors, when a lady is concerned?
She quickly put herself in communion with the handsome prisoner--made
herself acquainted with his history, name, and country, and as quickly
communicated it, as well as her plans for his escape, to a very worthy
countryman of his, at that time a professor in one of the universities
there. Need I say more than that before many hours had passed over his
head, he found himself equipped in the costume of a Spanish peasant,
the necessary quantity of dollars in his pocket, and a kiss on each
cheek burning hot from the lips of his preserver, on the high road to
rejoin his battalion, where he arrived in due course of time, to the
great joy of every body--Lord Wellington himself was not the least
delighted of the party, and kindly invited him to dine with him that
day, in the _costume_ in which he had arrived.
Mac Culloch continued to serve with us until Massena's retreat from
Portugal, when, in a skirmish which took place on the evening of the
15th of March, 1811, I, myself, got a crack on the head which laid
me under a tree, with my understanding considerably bothered for the
night, and I was sorry to find, as my next neighbour, poor Mac Culloch,
with an excruciatingly painful and bad wound in the shoulder joint,
which deprived him of the use of one arm for life, and obliged him to
return to England for the recovery of health.
In the meantime, by the regular course of promotion, he received his
company, which transferred him to the 2d battalion, and, serving with
it at the battle of Waterloo, he lost his sound arm by one of the last
shots that was fired in that bloody field.
As soon as he had recovered from this last wound he rejoined us in
Paris, and, presenting himself before the Duke of Wellington in his
usual straightforward manly way, said, "Here I am, my Lord; I have
no longer an arm left to wield for my country, but I still wish to
be allowed to serve it as I best can!" The Duke duly appreciated the
diamond before him, and as there were several captains in the regiment
senior to Mac Culloch, his Grace, with due regard to their feelings,
desired the commanding officer to ascertain whether they would not
consider it a cause of complaint if Mac Culloch were recommended for
a brevet majority, as it was out of his power to do it for every one,
and, to the honour of all concerned, there was not a dissentient voice.
He, therefore, succeeded to the brevet, and was afterwards promoted to
a majority, I think, in a veteran battalion.
He was soon after on a visit in London, living at a hotel, when one
afternoon he was taken suddenly ill; the feeling to him was an unusual
one, and he immediately sent for a physician, and told him that he
cared not for the consequences, but insisted on having his candid
opinion on his case.
The medical man accordingly told him at once that his case was an
extraordinary one--that he might within an hour or two recover from it,
or within an hour or two he might be no more.
Mac Culloch, with his usual coolness, gave a few directions as to
the future, and calmly awaited the result, which terminated fatally
within the time predicted--and thus perished, in the prime of life, the
gallant Mac Culloch, who was alike an honour to his country and his
profession.
CHAP. V.
The paying of a French compliment, which will be repaid in a
future chapter. A fierce attack upon hairs. A niece compliment,
and lessons gratis to untaught sword-bearers.
After the action of the Coa the enemy quickly possessed themselves of
the fortress of Almeida, when there remained nothing between Massena
and his kingdom but the simple article of Lord Wellington's army, of
which he calculated he would be able to superintend the embarkation
within the time requisite for his infantry to march to Lisbon. He
therefore put his legions in motion to pay his distinguished adversary
that last mark of respect.
The Wellingtonians retired slowly before them shewing their teeth as
often as favourable opportunities offered, and several bitter bites
they gave before they turned at bay--first on the heights of Busaco,
and finally and effectually on those of Torres Vedras.
The troops of all arms composing the rear guard conducted themselves
admirably throughout the whole of that retreat, for although the enemy
did not press them so much as they might have done, yet they were at
all times in close contact, and many times in actual combat, and it
was impossible to say which was the most distinguished--the splendid
service of the horse artillery, the dashing conduct of the dragoons, or
the unconquerable steadiness and bravery of the infantry.
It was a sort of military academy which is not open for instruction
every day in the year, nor was it one which every fond mamma would
choose to send her darling boy to, calculated although it was to lead
to _immortal_ honours. A youngster (if he did not stop a bullet by the
way) might commence his studies in such a place with nothing but "the
soft down peeping through the white skin," and be entitled to the
respect due to a beard or a bald head before he saw the end of it.
It is curious to remark how fashions change and how the change affects
the valour of the man too. The dragoon since the close of the war
has worn all his hair below the head and none on the top it, and how
fiercely he fought in defence of his whiskers the other day when some
of the regiments were ordered to be shaved, as if the debility of
Samson was likely to be the result of the operation. My stars! but I
should be glad to know what the old royal _heavies_ or fourteenth and
sixteenth _lights_ cared about hairs at the period I speak of, when
with their bare faces they went boldly in and bearded muzzles that
seemed fenced with furze bushes; and while it was "damned be he who
first cries hold--enough!" they did hold enough too, sometimes bringing
in every man his bird, mustachoes and all. In those days they seemed
to put more faith in their good right hand than in a cart-load of
whiskers, for with it and their open English countenances they carved
for themselves a name as British dragoons, which they were too proud to
barter for any other.
Every attempt at rearing a _moustache_ among the British in those days
was treated with sovereign contempt, no matter how aristocratic the
soil on which it was sown. But, to do justice to _every body_, I must
say that, to the best of my recollection, a crop was seldom seen but on
the lips of _nobodies_.
It was in the course of this retreat, as I mentioned in a former work,
that I first joined Lord Wellington's army, and I remember being
remarkably struck with the order, the confidence, and the daring spirit
which seemed to animate all ranks of those among whom it was my good
fortune to be cast. Their confidence in their illustrious chief was
unbounded, and they seemed to feel satisfied that it only rested with
him any day to say to his opponent, "thus far shalt thou come but no
farther;" and if a doubt on the subject had rested with any one before,
the battle of Busaco removed it, for the Portuguese troops having
succeeded in beating their man, it confirmed them in their own good
opinion, and gave increased confidence to the whole allied army.
I am now treading on the heels of my former narrative, and although it
did not include the field of Busaco, yet, as I have already stated,
it is foreign to my present purpose to enter into any details of the
actions in which we were engaged, further than they may serve to
illustrate such anecdotes as appear to me to be likely to amuse the
reader. I shall therefore pass over the present one, merely remarking
that to a military man, one of the most interesting spectacles which
took place there, was the light division taking up their ground the
day before in the face of the enemy. They had remained too long in
their advanced position on the morning of the 25th of September while
the enemy's masses were gathering around them; but Lord Wellington
fortunately came up before they were too far committed and put them in
immediate retreat under his own personal direction. Nor, as Napier
says, "Was there a moment to lose, for the enemy with incredible
rapidity brought up both infantry and guns, and fell on so briskly that
all the skill of the general and the readiness of the excellent troops
composing the rear guard, could scarcely prevent the division from
being dangerously engaged. Howbeit, a series of rapid and beautiful
movements, a sharp cannonade, and an hour's march, brought every thing
back in good order to the great position."
On the day of the battle (the 27th) the French General Simon, who led
the attack upon our division, was wounded and taken prisoner, and as
they were bringing him in he raved furiously for General Crawfurd,
daring him to single combat, but as he was already a prisoner there
would have been but little wit in indulging him in his humour.
In the course of the afternoon his baggage was brought in under a
flag of truce, accompanied by a charm to soothe the savage breast,
in the shape of a very beautiful little Spanish girl, who I have no
doubt succeeded in tranquillizing his pugnacious disposition. I know
not what rank she held on his establishment, but conclude that she
was his niece, for I have observed that in Spain the prettiest girl
in every gentleman's house is the niece. The Padrès particularly are
the luckiest fellows in the world in having the handsomest brothers
and sisters of any men living,--not that I have seen the brother or
the sister of any one of them, but then I have seen nine hundred
and ninety-nine Padrès, and each had his niece at the head of his
establishment, and I know not how it happened but she was always the
prettiest girl in the parish.
It was generally the fate of troops arriving from England, to join the
army at an unhappy period--at a time when easy stages and refreshment
after the voyage was particularly wanted and never to be had. The
marches at this period were harassing and severe, and the company with
which I had just arrived were much distressed to keep pace with the old
campaigners--they made a tolerable scramble for a day or two, but by
the time they arrived at the lines the greater part had been obliged to
be mounted. Nevertheless, when it became Massena's turn to tramp out of
Portugal a few months after, we found them up to their work and with as
few stragglers as the best. Marching is an art to be acquired only by
habit, and one in which the strength or agility of the animal, man, has
but little to do. I have seen Irishmen (and all sorts of countrymen)
in their own country, taken from the plough-tail--huge, athletic,
active fellows, who would think nothing of doing forty or fifty miles
in the course of the day as countrymen--see these men placed in the
rank as recruits with knapsacks on their backs and a musket over their
shoulders, and in the first march they are dead beat before they get
ten miles.
I have heard many disputes on the comparative campaigning powers
of tall and short men, but as far as my own experience goes I have
never seen any difference. If a tall man happens to break down it is
immediately noticed to the disadvantage of his class, but if the same
misfortune befals a short one, it is not looked upon as being anything
remarkable. The effective powers of both in fact depend upon the nature
of the building.
The most difficult and at the same time the most important duty to
teach a young soldier on first coming into active service, is how to
take care of himself. It is one which, in the first instance, requires
the unwearied attention of the officer, but he is amply repaid in the
long run, for when the principle is once instilled into him, it is duly
appreciated, and he requires no further trouble. In our battalion,
during the latter years of the war, it was a mere matter of form
inspecting the men on parade, for they knew too well the advantages
of having their arms and ammunition at all times in proper order to
neglect them, so that after several weeks marching and fighting, I have
never seen them on their first ordinary parade after their arrival in
quarters, but they were fit for the most rigid examination of the
greatest Martinet that ever looked through the ranks. The only thing
that required the officers' attention was their necessaries, for as
money was scarce, they were liable to be bartered for strong waters.
On service as every where else, there is a time for all things, but the
time there being limited and very uncertain, the difficulty is to learn
how to make the most of it.
The first and most important part lies with the officer, and he cannot
do better than borrow a leaf out of General Crawfurd's book, to learn
how to prevent straggling, and to get his men to the end of their day's
work with the least possible delay.
The young soldier when he first arrives in camp or bivouac will (unless
forced to do otherwise) always give in to the languor and fatigue which
oppresses him, and fall asleep. He awakens most probably after dark,
cold and comfortless. He would gladly eat some of the undressed meat in
his haversack, but he has no fire on which to cook it. He would gladly
shelter himself in one of the numerous huts which have arisen around
him since he fell asleep, but as he lent no hand in the building he is
thrust out. He attempts at the eleventh hour to do as others have done,
but the time has gone by, for all the materials that were originally
within reach, have already been appropriated by his more active
neighbours, and there is nothing left for him but to pass the remainder
of the night as he best can, in hunger, in cold, and in discomfort,
and he marches before day-light in the morning without having enjoyed
either rest or refreshment. Such is often the fate of young regiments
for a longer period than would be believed, filling the hospitals and
leading to all manner of evils.
On the other hand, see the old soldiers come to their ground. Let their
feelings of fatigue be great or small, they are no sooner suffered
to leave the ranks than every man rushes to secure whatever the
neighbourhood affords as likely to contribute towards his comfort for
the night. Swords, hatchets, and bill-kooks are to be seen hewing and
hacking at every tree and bush within reach,--huts are quickly reared,
fires are quickly blazing, and while the camp kettle is boiling,
or the pound of beef frying, the tired, but happy souls, are found
toasting their toes around the cheerful blaze, recounting their various
adventures until the fire has done the needful, when they fall on like
men, taking especial care however that whatever their inclinations
may be, they consume no part of the provision which properly belongs
to the morrow. The meal finished, they arrange their accoutrements
in readiness for any emergency, (caring little for the worst that
can befal them for the next twenty-four hours,) when they dispose
themselves for rest, and be their allowance of sleep long or short they
enjoy it, for it does one's heart good to see "the rapture of repose
that's there."