THE RETREAT TO CORUNNA.
Sufferings of the troops--Skirmishes with the pursuers--Two narrow
escapes--The general on his rounds--The enemy--Capture of a French
general--New year's day.
The information Mc Lauchlan obtained from Lieutenant Hill quickly
spread amongst us, and we now began to see more clearly the horrors of
our situation, and the men to murmur at not being permitted to turn and
stand at bay,--cursing the French, and swearing they would rather die
ten thousand deaths, with their rifles in their hands in opposition,
than endure the present toil. We were in the rear at this time, and
following that part of the army which made for Vigo, whilst the other
portion of the British, being on the main road to Corunna, were at
this moment closely pursued and harassed by the enemy, as I should
judge from the continued thunder of their cannon and rattle of their
musketry. Craufurd seemed to sniff the sound of battle from afar with
peculiar feelings. He halted us for a few minutes occasionally, when
the distant clamour became more distinct, and his face turned towards
the sound, and seemed to light up, and become less stern. It was then
indeed that every poor fellow clutched his weapon more firmly, and
wished for a sight of the enemy.
Before long, they had their wish: the enemy's cavalry were on our
skirts that night; and as we rushed out of a small village, the name
of which I cannot now recollect, we turned to bay. Behind broken-down
carts and tumbrils, huge trunks of trees, and everything we could
scrape together, the Rifles lay and blazed away at the advancing
cavalry, whilst the inhabitants, suddenly aroused from their beds to
behold their village almost on fire with our continued discharges, and
nearly distracted with the sound, ran from their houses, crying "_Viva
l'Englisa!_" and "_Viva la Franca!_" in a breath;--men, women, and
children flying to the open country, in their alarm.
We passed the night thus engaged, holding our own as well as we could,
together with the 43rd Light Infantry, the 52nd, a portion of the
German Legion, part of the 10th Hussars, and the 15th Dragoons. Towards
morning we moved down towards a small bridge, still followed by the
enemy, whom, however, we had sharply galled, and obliged to be more
wary in their efforts. The rain was pouring down in torrents on this
morning I recollect, and we remained many hours with our arms ported,
standing in this manner, and staring the French cavalry in the face,
the water actually running out of the muzzles of our rifles. I do not
recollect seeing a single regiment of infantry amongst the French force
on this day; it seemed to me a tremendous body of cavalry--some said
nine or ten thousand strong--commanded, as I heard, by General Lefebvre.
Whilst we stood thus, face to face, I remember the horsemen of the
enemy sat watching us very intently, as if waiting for a favourable
moment to dash upon us like beasts of prey; and every now and then
their trumpets would ring out a lively strain of music, as if to
encourage them. As the night drew on, our cavalry moved a little to the
front, together with several field-pieces, and succeeded in crossing
the bridge; after which we also advanced, and threw ourselves into some
hilly ground on either side the road; whilst the 43rd and 52nd lay
behind some carts, trunks of trees, and other materials with which
they had formed a barrier.
General Craufurd was standing behind this barricade, when he ordered
the Rifles to push still further in front, and conceal themselves
amongst the hills on either side. A man named Higgins was my front-rank
man at this moment. "Harris," said he, "let you and I gain the very top
of the mountain, and look out what those French thieves are at on the
other side."
My feet were sore and bleeding, and the sinews of my legs ached as
if they would burst, but I resolved to accompany him. In our wearied
state, the task was not easy, but, by the aid of Higgins, a tall and
powerful fellow, I managed to reach the top of the mountain, where we
placed ourselves in a sort of gully, or ditch, and looked over to the
enemy's side, concealing ourselves by lying flat in the ditch, as we
did so. Thus, in favourable situations, like cats watching for their
prey, were the rest of the Rifles lying perdu upon the hills that
night. The mountain, we found, was neither so steep nor so precipitous
on the enemy's side. The ascent, on the contrary, was so easy, that
one or two of the videttes of the French cavalry were prowling about
very near where we lay. As we had received orders not to make more
noise than we could help, not even to speak to each other, except in
whispers, although one of these horsemen approached close to where
I lay, I forebore to fire upon him. At length he stopped so near
me, that I saw it was almost impossible he could avoid discovering
that the Rifles were in such close proximity to his person. He gazed
cautiously along the ridge, took off his helmet, and wiped his face,
as he appeared to meditate upon the propriety of crossing the ditch in
which we lay; when suddenly our eyes met, and in an instant he plucked
a pistol from his holster, fired it in my face, and, wheeling his
horse, plunged down the hill side. For the moment I thought I was hit,
as the ball grazed my neck,[4] and stuck fast in my knapsack, where I
found it, when, many days afterwards, I unpacked my kit on ship-board.
About a quarter of an hour after this, as we still lay in the gully, I
heard some person clambering up behind us, and, upon turning quickly
round, I found it was General Craufurd. The General was wrapped in
his great-coat, and, like ourselves, had been for many hours drenched
to the skin, for the rain was coming down furiously. He carried in
his hand a canteen full of rum, and a small cup, with which he was
occasionally endeavouring to refresh some of the men. He offered me a
drink, as he passed, and then proceeded onwards along the ridge. After
he had emptied his canteen, he came past us again, and himself gave us
instructions as to our future proceedings.
"When all is ready, Riflemen," said he, "you will immediately get the
word, and pass over the bridge. Be careful, and mind what you are
about."
Accordingly, a short time after he had left us, we were ordered to
descend the mountain-side in single file, and having gained the road,
were quickly upon the bridge. Meanwhile the Staff Corps had been hard
at work mining the very centre of the structure, which was filled with
gunpowder, a narrow plank being all the aid we had by which to pass
over. For my own part, I was now so utterly helpless, that I felt as
if all was nearly up with me, and that, if I could steady myself so
as to reach the further end of the plank, it would be all I should be
able to accomplish. However, we managed all of us to reach the other
side in safety, when, almost immediately afterwards, the bridge blew
up with a tremendous report, and a house at its extremity burst into
flames. What, with the concussion of the explosion, and the tremulous
state of my limbs, I was thrown to the ground, and lay flat upon my
face for some time, almost in a state of insensibility. After awhile I
somewhat recovered; but it was not without extreme difficulty, and many
times falling again, that I succeeded in regaining the column. Soon
after I had done so, we reached Benevento, and immediately took refuge
in a convent. Already three parts of it were filled with other troops,
among which were mingled the 10th Hussars, the German Legion, and the
15th Dragoons; the horses of these regiments standing as close as they
could stand, with the men dismounted between each horse, the animals'
heads to the walls of the building, and all in readiness to turn out on
the instant. Liquor was handed to us by the Dragoons, but having had
nothing for some time to eat, many of our men became sick, instead of
receiving any benefit from it.
Before we had been in the convent as long a time as I have been
describing our arrival, every man of us was down on the floor, and
well nigh asleep; and before we had slept half an hour, we were again
aroused from our slumbers by the clatter of the horses, the clash of
the men's sabres, and their shouts for us to clear the way.
"The enemy! The enemy!" I heard shouted out.
"Clear the way, Rifles! Up boys, and clear the way!"
In short, the Dragoons hardly gave us time to rise, before they were
leading their horses amongst us, and getting out of the convent as
fast as they could scamper, whilst we ourselves were not long in
following their example. As we did so, we discovered that the French
cavalry, having found the bridge blown-up, had dashed into the stream,
and succeeded in crossing. Our cavalry, however, quickly formed, and
charged them in gallant style.
The shock of that encounter was tremendous to look upon, and we stood
for some time enranked, watching the combatants. The horsemen had it
all to themselves; our Dragoons fought like tigers,[5] and, although
greatly overmatched, drove the enemy back like a torrent, and forced
them again into the river. A private of the 10th Hussars--his name,
I think, was Franklin--dashed into the stream after their General
(Lefebvre), assailed him, sword in hand, in the water, captured, and
brought him a prisoner on shore again. If I remember rightly, Franklin,
or whatever else was his name, was made a Serjeant on the spot. The
French General was delivered into our custody on that occasion, and we
cheered the 10th men heartily as we received him.
After the enemy had received this check from our cavalry, and which
considerably damped their ardour, making them a trifle more shy of us
for awhile, we pushed onwards on our painful march. I remember marching
close beside the French general during some part of this day, and
observing his chap-fallen and dejected look as he rode along in the
midst of the green jackets.
Being constantly in rear of the main body, the scenes of distress and
misery I witnessed were dreadful to contemplate, particularly amongst
the women and children, who were lagging and falling behind, their
husbands and fathers being in the main body in our front. We now came
to the edge of a deep ravine, the descent so steep and precipitous,
that it was impossible to keep our feet in getting down, and we were
sometimes obliged to sit, and slide along on our backs; whilst before
us rose a ridge of mountains quite as steep and difficult of ascent.
There was, however, no pause in our exertion, but, slinging our rifles
round our necks, down the hill we went; whilst mules with the baggage
on their backs, wearied and urged beyond their strength, were seen
rolling from top to bottom; many of them breaking their necks with the
fall, and the baggage crushed, smashed, and abandoned.
I remember, as I descended this hill, remarking the extraordinary sight
afforded by the thousands of our red-coats, who were creeping like
snails, and toiling up the ascent before us, their muskets slung round
their necks, and clambering with both hands as they hauled themselves
up. As soon as we ourselves had gained the ascent we were halted for a
few minutes, in order to give us breath for another effort, and then
onwards we moved again.
It is impossible for me to keep any account of time in this
description, as I never exactly knew how many days and nights we
marched; but I well know we kept on for many successive days and
nights, without rest, or much in the way of food. The long day found us
still pushing on, and the night caused us no halt.
After leaving the hills I have mentioned, and which I heard at the time
were called the Mountains of Galicia, as we passed through a village,
our Major resolved to try and get us something in the shape of a
better meal than we had been able hitherto to procure. He accordingly
despatched a small party, who were somewhat more fresh than their
comrades, to try and procure something from the houses around; and
they accordingly purchased, shot, and bayoneted, somewhere about a
score of pigs, which we lugged along with us to a convent just without
the town; and, halting for a short time, proceeded to cook them. The
men, however, were too hungry to wait whilst they were being properly
dressed and served out.
After this hasty meal, we again pushed on, still cursing the enemy for
not again shewing themselves, that we might revenge some of our present
miseries upon their heads.
"Why don't they come on like men," they cried, "whilst we've strength
left in us to fight them?"
We were now upon the mountains; the night was bitter cold, and the snow
falling fast. As day broke, I remember hearing Lieutenant Hill say to
another officer (who, by the way, afterwards sank down, and died),
"This is New Year's Day; and, I think if we live to see another, we
shall not easily forget it."
The mountains were now becoming more wild-looking and steep, as we
proceeded; whilst those few huts we occasionally passed seemed so
utterly forlorn and wretched-looking, it appeared quite a wonder
how human beings could live in so desolate a home. After the snow
commenced, the hills became so slippery (being in many parts covered
with ice), that several of our men frequently slipped and fell, and
being unable to rise, gave themselves up to despair, and died. There
was now no endeavour to assist one another after a fall; it was every
one for himself, and God for us all!
The enemy, I should think, were at this time frequently close upon our
trail; and I thought at times I heard their trumpets come down the wind
as we marched. Towards the dusk of the evening of this day I remember
passing a man and woman lying clasped in each other's arms, and dying
in the snow. I knew them both; but it was impossible to help them.
They belonged to the Rifles, and were man and wife. The man's name was
Joseph Sitdown. During this retreat, as he had not been in good health
previously, himself and wife had been allowed to get on in the best
way they could in the front. They had, however, now given in, and the
last we ever saw of poor Sitdown and his wife was on that night, lying
perishing in each other's arms in the snow.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 4: This ball I found in one of my shirts, and kept it long
afterwards.]
[Footnote 5: It was said that Napoleon observed this encounter from the
heights.]