WITH THE REARGUARD OF THE RETREATING ARMY.
There was now a large force suddenly collected in Benevente, which
under any circumstances causes much confusion, but more particularly at
that moment, when our chief employment was the destruction of stores.
Nevertheless the duty was performed with extraordinary forbearance
on the part of the men, particularly when it is considered that the
Spanish authorities, either from disinclination to serve the British
or from a dread of the enemy, who, as they knew, must occupy the town
in a very short time, took no care whatever to supply our troops
regularly with provisions, or indeed with anything which we required.
The same feelings pervaded all ranks of the inhabitants; and although
with payment in our hands we sought for bread, wine, and animals to
convey our baggage, yet nothing could be procured. The magistrates
either hid themselves or retired; the inhabitants denied everything
of which we stood most in need, and whilst all the shops were open in
Madrid and in all other towns through which the French army passed
or which they held, every door was shut against the British army. It
seldom fell to the lot of the reserve to sleep in a house during the
movement to Corunna, but in those which we passed whilst marching along
every article of food was hid with which the enemy were subsequently
supplied in abundance; and in no part of Spain was this want of good
feeling towards the British more apparent than in Benevente, a specimen
of which will be seen in the following anecdote:--
[Sidenote: LOVE AND WINE.]
After the destruction of Gonzolo bridge, when the 52nd Regiment marched
into Benevente, though benumbed with wet and cold, yet they could not
procure a single pint of wine for the men, either for love or money,
or for mere humanity which under such circumstances would have moved
the breast of most men to an act of charitable generosity. During the
anxious pleading to the feelings and the dogged denial, a sergeant of
his company came to Lieutenant Love, of the above-mentioned regiment,
informing him that in an outhouse belonging to the convent in which
they were billeted he discovered a wall recently built up, by which he
conjectured that some wine might have been concealed. Love instantly
waited on the friars, whom he entreated to let the men have some wine,
at the same time offering prompt payment. The holy fat father abbot
constantly declared, by a long catalogue of saints, that there was not
a drop in the convent. Love, although a very young man at the time, was
not easily imposed upon. Reconnoitring the premises, he had a rope tied
round his body, and in this manner got himself lowered through a sort
of skylight down into the outhouse, where the sergeant had discovered
the fresh masonry through a crevice in the strongly barricaded door.
After his landing, the rope was drawn up, and two men of the company
followed in the same manner. They fortunately found a log of wood,
which, aided by the ropes, they converted into a battering ram, and
four or five strong percussions well directed breached the newly built
wall. Now rushing through the breach, they found the inner chamber to
be the very sanctum sanctorum of Bacchus. Wine sufficient was found to
give every man in the company a generous allowance. The racy juice was
contained in a large vat, and while they were issuing it out in perfect
order to the drenched and shivering soldiers, the fat prior suddenly
made his appearance through a trap-door, and laughingly requested that
at least he might have one drink before all was consumed. Upon this one
of the men remarked, “By Jove! when the wine was _his_, he was damned
stingy about it; but now that it is _ours_, we will show him what
British hospitality is, and give him his fill.” So saying, he seized
the holy fat man, and chucked him head foremost into the vat; and had
it not been for Love and some other officers, who by this time had
found their way into the cellar, the Franciscan worshipper of Bacchus
would most probably have shared the fate of George Duke of Clarence,
except that the wine was not Malmsey.
This anecdote was told to me at the time by some officers of
the 52nd. Then it was I had the pleasure of first making the
acquaintance of Lieutenant Calvert of that regiment, long since
lieutenant-colonel. This acquaintance was afterwards renewed under
no ordinary circumstances at the battle of Barossa. The anecdote was
many years later confirmed by Love himself in the Island of Zante,
where in 1836 he was quartered with the 73rd Regiment, of which he was
lieutenant-colonel at the time when I was writing these Memoirs. I
read him the whole of these Memoirs, and found his recollection of the
campaign very interesting. The dates of his commissions and mine in the
respective ranks of ensign, lieutenant, and captain were within a few
months of each other; but he became lieutenant-colonel long before I
retired from the service still as captain. Yet he was an old soldier at
the time; and if gallant conduct on all occasions which offered during
a long career, devoted attachment to his profession and ardent zeal to
promote its honour and glory can give a claim to advancement, by none
was it better merited. The only extraordinary circumstance attending
his promotion was that he obtained it through personal merit.
[Sidenote: CHARGE OF LORD PAGET.]
On the 28th the divisions of Generals Hope and Fraser moved out of
Benevente for Astorga; the reserve and light brigade remained until
the 29th. On that morning the enemy’s cavalry, commanded by Napoleon’s
favourite General, Lefèbre Desnouettes, forded the Esla, and as they
were taken for the advance of a large force, the reserve and light
brigades were ordered instantly to retire on the road leading to
Astorga. Although General Stuart, who took command of our cavalry
piquets, gallantly resisted Lefèbre, and every step was met with a
blow, yet the French general sternly moved forward along the plain
which skirted Benevente. Lord Paget, who viewed from a distance what
passed at the extremity of the plain, in courtesy allowed the French
general to advance until it became too dangerous for his troops to
proceed farther; then, at the head of the 10th Hussars, whom he had
previously formed under cover of some houses, he rode furiously at the
enemy, who, wheeling round, were pursued into the very bed of the Esla,
where “many a deadly blow was dealt,” and it was shown once again that
British steel was not to be resisted when wielded by British soldiers
determined to vindicate the superiority of their national productions.
On gaining the opposite bank of the river the enemy immediately formed
on rising ground which overlooked the stream, and displayed symptoms
of returning to the fight; but our artillery having interfered with
some well-directed shrapnel shots, the foe retired in disgust and
pride, leaving their gallant and accomplished general behind to refine
our manners, if not our steel. On his arrival in England he was sent
to Bath, where he showed with what facility a Frenchman can insinuate
himself into society as a man of spirit and gallantry.
Whilst our guns continued to fire upon the retreating enemy, the
rearguard of the reserve were evacuating Benevente. During our march
we were passed on the road by seventy or eighty dragoons of the
Imperial Guard, together with their leader General Lefèbre, who were
made prisoners in the affair of the morning. The general looked fierce
and bloody, from a wound which he received across the forehead while
gallantly defending himself in the stream wherein he was taken. In
this affair our dragoons suffered a loss of fifty men killed and
wounded. The French left fifty-five killed and wounded on the field,
and seventy officers and men prisoners, together with their general. It
cannot be said that there was any disparity of force, for although in
the commencement of the affair the French were far more numerous, yet
towards the close the reverse was the case.
We arrived at Labaneza that night, and next day marched into Astorga.
Here we were crossed by the ragged, half-starved corps of Spaniards
under the partial control of the Marquis of Romana, which circumstance
not a little astonished us, as the marquis repeatedly promised Sir
John Moore that he would retire into the Asturias. This unexpected
interruption to our march was attended with the most serious
consequences to our army, and from it may be dated the straggling which
soon commenced. The Spaniards, shivering from partial nakedness and
voracious from continued hunger, committed the greatest disorders in
search of food and raiment. Their bad example was eagerly followed by
the British soldiers in their insatiable thirst for wine; and all the
exertions, even of the Commander of the forces personally, were not of
much avail. We could not destroy the stores, which had to be abandoned.
The civil authorities rather impeded than assisted us in procuring the
means of transport; nor could rations be regularly served out to the
men sufficient for a two days’ march. The troops of the two nations
seemed envious of each other, lest the depredations of one should give
it what they in their blind excesses considered an advantage over the
other. They prowled about the town the greater part of the night, and
when they attempted to take repose there arose a contention for choice
of quarters; so that our march was commenced next morning without the
men having taken useful nourishment or necessary repose.
[Sidenote: VENTRILOQUISTS CAMPAIGNING.]
It was on that night which we passed at Astorga that I discovered a
circumstance of which I had not been previously aware--namely, that
in the light company of the 28th Regiment there was a complete and
well-organised band of ventriloquists who could imitate any species of
bird or animal so perfectly that it was scarcely possible to discover
the difference between the imitation and the natural tone of the animal
imitated. Soon after we contrived to get into some kind of a quarter,
the men being in the same apartment with the officers owing to the
crowd and confusion, a soldier named Savage, immediately on entering
the room, began to crow like a cock, and then placed his ear close to
the keyhole of a door leading into another apartment, which was locked.
After remaining in this attentive position for some moments, he removed
to another part of the room and repeated his crowing. I began to think
that the man was drunk or insane, never before having perceived in
him the slightest want of proper respect for his superiors. Upon my
asking him what he meant by such extraordinary conduct in the presence
of his officers, he with a smile replied, “I believe we have them,
sir.” This seemingly unconnected reply confirmed me in the opinion I
had formed of his mental derangement, the more particularly as his
incoherent reply was instantly followed by another crow; this was
answered apparently in the same voice, but somewhat fainter. Savage
then jumped up, crying out, “Here they are!” and insisted upon having
the door opened; and when this was reluctantly done by the inhabitants
of the house, a fine cock followed by many hens came strutting into the
room with all the pomp of a sultan attended by his many queens. The
head of the polygamist, together with those of his superfluous wives,
was soon severed from his body, notwithstanding the loud remonstrances
of the former owners, who, failing in their entreaties that the harem
should be spared, demanded remuneration; but whether the men paid for
what they had taken like grovelling citizens, or offered political
reasons as an apology like great monarchs, I now cannot call to mind.
But however the affair may have been arranged, the act was venial,
for had the fowls been spared by our men they must have fallen into
the stomachs of our enemies next day; and it is not one of the least
important duties of a retreating army to carry away or destroy anything
which may be useful to their pursuers, however severely the inhabitants
may suffer.
During the night I was awakened by the ventriloquists, who, with
appropriate harmony, were loudly bleating, cackling, crowing, cooing,
lowing--in fact, imitating every species of animal; so that at the
moment I awoke I fancied myself in an extensive menagerie. Indeed, the
powerful effect of their music on many occasions during the retreat
came to my knowledge; and so judiciously did they exert their talents
that animals of all descriptions came frisking to their feet, offering
a practical elucidation of the powers attributed to Orpheus when round
him danced the brutes.
[Sidenote: MISERY OF SPANIARDS.]
On the last day of 1808 we marched from Astorga with more headaches
than full stomachs; and the light brigade having moved on the route
to Vigo, the rearguard fell exclusively to the reserve during the
remainder of the retreat. The distance we had to move on that day
being short, we continued until late to destroy stores and such field
equipments as, for want of animals, could not be carried away; and
after eight or nine miles’ march we arrived in the evening at a small
village called Cambarros. At this place our evil genius, the Spaniards,
again crossed us, and the scenes at Astorga were partially renewed;
but as only the sick and stragglers of the Spanish army were there,
the contention was but little--in fact, their miserable and forlorn
condition called forth compassion rather than other sentiments. Two
or three cartloads of them being put down at an outhouse where I was
on piquet with the light company, we took them in. Such misery I
never beheld, half-naked, half-starved, and deprived of both medicine
and medical attendance. We administered a little of our general
cordial--rum; yet three or four of these wretches expired that night
close to a large fire which we lit in the middle of the floor.
Our stay at Cambarros was but short, for scarcely had the men laid
down to repose, which was much wanted in consequence of the manner in
which they had passed the previous night, when some of our cavalry came
galloping in, reporting that the enemy were advancing in force. We
were immediately ordered to get under arms, and hurried to form outside
the town on that part facing Bembibre. While we were forming a dragoon
rode up, and an officer who being ill was in one of the light carts
which attended the reserve, cried out, “Dragoon, what news?” “News,
sir? The only news I have for you is that unless you step out like
soldiers, and don’t wait to pick your steps like bucks in Bond Street
of a Sunday with shoes and silk stockings, damn it! you’ll be all taken
prisoners.” “Pray, who the devil are you?” came from the cart. “I am
Lord Paget,” said the dragoon; “and pray, sir, may I ask who you are?”
“I am Captain D----n, of the 28th Regiment, my lord.” “Come out of that
cart directly,” said his lordship; “march with your men, sir, and keep
up their spirits by showing them a good example.” The captain scrambled
out of the cart rear, face foremost, and from slipping along the side
of the cart and off the wheels, and from the sudden jerks which he
made to regain his equilibrium, displayed all the ridiculous motions
of a galvanised frog. Although he had previously suffered a good deal
from both fatigue and illness, yet the circumstance altogether caused
the effect desired by his lordship, for the whole regiment were highly
diverted by the scene until we arrived at Bembibre, and it caused many
a hearty laugh during the remainder of the retreat.
We arrived within a league of Bembibre at daybreak on the morning
of January 1st, 1809, and were there halted at a difficult pass in
the mountains to cut the road. It appeared that some of the leading
divisions had already commenced this work; spades, pickaxes, and
such tools were found on the spot. We had not continued long at this
employment when we were ordered to desist, since Bembibre was turned
by the Foncevadon road, which joined that on which we were, not far
from Calcabellos, and so the work was considered useless. This order
was received with the greatest joy; indeed, there was no duty which we
would not more willingly perform than that of handling the pickaxe,
and that too during a severe frost and after a long night march. We
therefore joyfully moved on to Bembibre.
On approaching this village, we discovered Sir David Baird’s division,
who had just left, and were proceeding on the road to Villa Franca.
We now fully anticipated some repose, to which we thought ourselves
entitled by our laborious occupation of destroying stores at Astorga
the whole time we were there, and the long and severe night march which
we had just terminated; but we were sadly disappointed. The leading
columns, well aware of the value and necessity of vigilance, although
it was shamefully neglected by themselves, left sufficient matter
behind to prevent the reserve from sleeping too much; and when we
entered the town of Bembibre and expected to stretch our wearied limbs,
we were ordered to pile arms and clear all the houses of the stragglers
left behind.
[Sidenote: HORRORS OF BEMBIBRE.]
The scenes here presented can only be faintly imagined from the most
faithful description which even the ablest writer could pen; but little
therefore can be expected from any attempt of mine to paint the scandal
here presented by the British troops or the degrading scenes exhibited
through their debauchery. Bembibre exhibited all the appearance of a
place lately stormed and pillaged. Every door and window was broken,
every lock and fastening forced. Rivers of wine ran through the houses
and into the streets, where lay fantastic groups of soldiers (many of
them with their firelocks broken), women, children, runaway Spaniards
and muleteers, all apparently inanimate, except when here and there a
leg or arm was seen to move, while the wine oozing from their lips and
nostrils seemed the effect of gunshot wounds. Every floor contained
the worshippers of Bacchus in all their different stages of devotion;
some lay senseless, others staggered; there were those who prepared the
libation by boring holes with their bayonets into the large wine vats,
regardless of the quantity which flowed through the cellars and was
consequently destroyed. The music was perfectly in character: savage
roars announcing present hilarity were mingled with groans issuing from
fevered lips disgorging the wine of yesterday; obscenity was public
sport. But these scenes are too disgusting to be dwelt upon. We were
employed the greatest part of the day (January 1st, 1809,) in turning
or dragging the drunken stragglers out of the houses into the streets
and sending as many forward as could be moved. Our occupation next
morning was the same; yet little could be effected with men incapable
of standing, much less of marching forward. At length the cavalry
reporting the near approach of the enemy, and Sir John Moore dreading
lest Napoleon’s columns should intersect our line of march by pushing
along the Foncevadon road, which joined our road not many miles in
front of us, the reserve were ordered forward, preceded by the cavalry,
and the stragglers were left to their fate. Here I must say that our
division, imbibing a good deal of the bad example and of the wine left
behind by the preceding columns, did not march out of Bembibre so
strong as when they entered it.
[Sidenote: INFAMY OF FRENCH DRAGOONS.]
We had proceeded but a short distance when the enemy’s horsemen nearly
approached the place; and then it was that the apparently lifeless
stragglers, whom no exertion of ours was sufficient to rouse from
their torpor, startled at the immediate approach of danger, found
the partial use of their limbs. The road instantly became thronged by
them; they reeled, staggered, and screaming threw down their arms.
Frantic women held forth their babies, suing for mercy by the cries
of defenceless innocence; but all to no purpose. The dragoons of
the polite and civilised nation advanced, and cut right and left,
regardless of intoxication, age or sex. Drunkards, women and children
were indiscriminately hewn down--a dastardly revenge for their defeat
at Benevente; but they dearly paid for their wanton cruelty when
encountered next day at Calcabellos. The foe, rendered presumptuous
by their easy victory gained over the defenceless stragglers, rode so
close to our columns that that distinguished officer, Colonel Ross with
his gallant 20th Regiment was halted and placed in an ambush, formed by
the winding of the road round the slope of a hill which concealed them
until nearly approached. The remainder of the reserve marched on and
halted at a considerable distance. But the French were over cautious,
and after a lapse of more than an hour, during which time many wounded
stragglers joined the main body of the division, Colonel Ross was
recalled, much disappointed by the enemy’s declining to advance. He
reluctantly joined the main body of the reserve, who immediately moved
forward. Thus every means was used compatible with prudence to cover
and protect the unworthy stragglers from Bembibre; and great risk was
run, for we did not feel ourselves secure until we passed the junction
of the roads mentioned, not knowing what force might be pushing forward
along the Foncevadon line.
Continuing our march at a rather accelerated pace until we passed the
junction, we arrived at Calcabellos about an hour before dark.