THE RETREAT TO CORUNNA.
Nightfall in the wilderness--Dangerous ground--Men lost--Craufurd's
magic lantern--A friend in need--Sir Dudley Hill.
Towards evening, of the same day Howans was punished, we came to a
part of the country of a yet wilder and more desolate appearance even
than that we had already traversed; a dreary wilderness it appeared
at this inclement season: and our men, spite of the vigilance of the
General, seemed many of them resolved to stray into the open country,
rather than traverse the road before them. The coming night favoured
their designs, and many were, before morning, lost to us through their
own wilfulness. Amongst others, I found myself completely bewildered
and lost upon the heath, and should doubtless have perished had I not
fallen in with another of our corps in the same situation. As soon
as we recognised each other, I found my companion in adversity was a
strapping resolute fellow named James Brooks, a north of Ireland man.
He was afterwards killed at Toulouse, by a musket ball which struck him
in the thigh. He was delighted at having met with me, and we resolved
not to desert each other during the night. Brooks, as I have said,
was a strong, active, and resolute fellow, as indeed I had, on more
occasions than one, witnessed in Portugal. At the present time, his
strength was useful to both of us.
"Catch hold of my jacket, Harris," said he: "the ground here is soft,
and we must help each other to-night, or we shall be lost in the bogs."
Before long, that which Brooks feared, happened; and he found himself
stuck so fast in the morass, that although I used my best efforts to
draw him out, I only shared in the same disaster; so that, leaving him,
I turned and endeavoured to save my own life if possible, calling to
him to follow before he sank over head and ears. This was an unlucky
chance in our wearied state, as the more we floundered in the dark,
not knowing which way to gain a firmer foundation, the faster we fixed
ourselves. Poor Brooks was so disheartened, that he actually blubbered
like a child. At length, during a pause in our exertions, I thought
I heard something like the bark of a dog come down the wind. I bade
Brooks listen, and we both distinctly heard it--the sound gave us new
hope, just as we were about to abandon ourselves to our fate. I advised
Brooks to lay himself as flat as he could, and drag himself out of
the slough, as I had found some hard tufts of grass in the direction I
tried; and so, by degrees, we gained a firmer footing, and eventually
succeeded in extricating ourselves, though in such an exhausted state,
that for some time we lay helplessly upon the ground, unable to proceed.
At length with great caution, we ventured to move forwards in the
direction of the sounds we had just heard. We found, however, that our
situation was still very perilous; for in the darkness we hardly dared
to move a step in any direction, without probing the ground with our
rifles, lest we should again sink, and be eventually smothered in the
morasses we had strayed amongst. On a sudden, however (as we carefully
felt our way), we heard voices shouting in the distance, and calling
out "_Men_ lost! _men_ lost!" which we immediately concluded were the
cries of some of our own people, who were situated like ourselves.
After awhile, I thought I saw, far away, something like a dancing
light, which seemed to flicker about, vanish, and reappear, similar
to a Jack-o'-lantern. I pointed it out to Brooks, and we agreed to
alter our course, and move towards it. As we did so, the light seemed
to approach us, and grow larger, and presently another and another
appeared, like small twinkling stars, till they looked something like
the lamps upon one of our London bridges, as seen from afar. The sight
revived our spirits, more especially as we could now distinctly hear
the shouts of people, who appeared in search of the stragglers, and as
they approached us, we perceived that such was indeed the case. The
lights, we now discovered, were furnished by bundles of straw and dried
twigs, tied on the ends of long poles, and dipped in tar. They were
borne in the hands of several Spanish peasants, from a village near at
hand, whom Craufurd had thus sent to our rescue.
He had discovered, on reaching and halting in this village, the number
of men that had strayed from the main body, and immediately ordering
the torches I have mentioned to be prepared, he collected together a
party of Spanish peasants, and obliged them to go out into the open
country, and seek for his men, as I have said; by which means he saved
(on that night) many from death.
To return to my own adventures on this night. When Brooks and myself
reached the village I have mentioned, we found it filled with soldiers,
standing and lying, huddled together like cattle in a fair. A most
extraordinary sight it appeared, as the torches of the peasants flashed
upon the way-worn and gaunt figures of our army. The rain was coming
down, too, on this night, I remember; and soon after I reached our
corps, I fell helplessly to the ground in a miserable plight. Brooks
was himself greatly exhausted, but he behaved nobly, and remained
beside me, trying to persuade some of our men to assist him in lifting
me up, and gaining shelter in one of the houses at hand. "May I be --!"
I heard him say, "if I leave Harris to be butchered in the streets by
the cowardly Spaniards the moment our division leaves the town." At
length Brooks succeeded in getting a man to help him, and together they
supported me into the passage of a house, where I lay upon the floor
for some time. After awhile, by the help of some wine they procured, I
rallied and sat up, till eventually I got once more upon my legs, and,
arm in arm, we proceeded again into the streets, and joined our corps.
Poor Brooks certainly saved my life that night. He was one of the many
good fellows whom I have seen out, and I often think of him with
feelings of gratitude as I sit at my work in Richmond Street, Soho.
When the division got the order to proceed again, we were still linked
arm in arm, and thus we proceeded; sometimes, when the day appeared,
stopping for a short time and resting ourselves, and then hurrying on
again.
I remember Sir Dudley Hill passing me on a mule this day. He wore a
Spanish straw-hat, and had his cloak on. He looked back when he had
passed, and addressed me. "Harris," said he, "I see you cannot keep
up." He appeared sorry for me, for he knew me well. "You must do your
best," he said, "my man, and keep with us, or you will fall into the
hands of the enemy." As the day wore on, I grew weaker and weaker;
and at last, spite of all my efforts, I saw the main body leave me
hopelessly in the lurch. Brooks himself was getting weaker too; he
saw it was of little use to urge me on, and at length, assenting to my
repeated request to be left behind, he hurried on as well as he was
able without a word of farewell. I now soon sank down in the road and
lay beside another man who had also fallen, and was apparently dead,
and whom I recognised as one of our sergeants, named Taylor, belonging
to the Honourable Captain Pakenham's (now General Sir Hercules
Pakenham) company.