WE RETURN TO TARIFA AND THENCE TO LISBON.
Thus terminated the celebrated battle of Barossa, by Spaniards
termed the bloody fight of the wild boar, fought under extraordinary
difficulties against a gallant foe more than double in number, by
harassed British troops, whose gallantry called forth the admiration
of all Europe and the malignant jealousy of their allies--a battle
which immortalised the genius and valour of the commanding general,
who coolly directed our movements until all was prepared for the
bayonet, when, laying aside the personal prudence of the experienced
old commander, he displayed the vigour and impetuosity of the young
soldier, leading us on to the final glorious charge. It was during this
charge, and when the Guards and flank battalion united on the top of
the hill, that Colonel Browne and I again met, he on the left of the
household troops and I on the right of the flank battalion, with whom,
from the departure of the colonel until his return, I was the only
officer and consequently in command. The time of my command, as well as
I can recollect, was about an hour, and that during the hottest part of
the action. After mutual congratulations, my gallant colonel shook me
cordially by the hand, declaring that he never could forget my services
on that day, and adding that, should we both survive the action, he
would in person present me to General Graham and bear full testimony
to my conduct throughout the whole day. The colonel was fully aware
that, had the author of these Memoirs lagged behind in consequence of
a wound received early in the action, he, on his arrival on the hill,
instead of finding nearly two hundred bayonets of the flank battalion
well into the charge which reeled the enemy off the hill, would not
have had a single man of that battalion present to command, and must
consequently have been still a volunteer with the Guards. I reported
to him my having charged and taken the howitzer. Here I feel called
upon to state that when Colonel Browne parted to join the Guards there
were not ten men of the flank battalion to be seen and not above four
or five standing near us; there was nothing for him to command, and I
feel thoroughly satisfied that it was by sheer bravery he was moved.
Although the battalion when they originally moved forward had not
the slightest prospect of success, still it was absolutely necessary
for the safety of the British army and the Spanish cause to push us
forward; and had we not undauntedly pressed on to attack Rufin in his
position, that general would have come down in perfect order on the
British troops, then in a confused mass and so entangled in the pine
forest as to render any attempt at formation totally impracticable. To
await an attack under such circumstances must have been attended with
the most fatal results.
The extremely critical situation in which the British troops were
placed cannot be more forcibly expressed than by General Graham’s own
words in his orders of the following day:
“ISLA DE LEON, _March 6th, 1811_.
“The enemy’s numbers and position were no longer objects of
calculation, _for there was no retreat left_.”
[Sidenote: LOSSES IN OUR BATTALION.]
Under these circumstances to hesitate in pushing forward the flank
battalion, not only as select troops, but also as the only British
troops regularly formed, since they had not yet been entangled in the
pine forest, would have shown culpable weakness and want of resolution,
although the movement was consigning us as a body to certain
destruction. At the commencement of the action our battalion formed a
little more than a tenth of the army; yet at the close of the action
our casualties both in officers and men amounted to nearly a fourth of
the entire loss sustained, although every regiment was well into the
fight.
The officers killed and wounded in the flank companies of the 9th and
28th Regiments alone exceeded a fifth of the total loss of officers;
they were sixty-two, and of the flank companies there were thirteen,
six of the 9th and seven of the 28th. But the carnage which the flank
battalion suffered was never brought before the public. The casualties
which took place in the different flank companies were in the official
despatches put under the heads of their different regiments; thus the
officers killed and wounded of the 9th Regiment flankers were returned
as a loss sustained by the 9th Regiment, although at the time the 9th
Regiment were doing garrison duty in Gibraltar; and the 28th Regiment,
who formed the extreme left of the line, returned eight officers killed
or wounded, whereas seven of those were of its flank companies with
Colonel Browne’s battalion, who were led into action on the extreme
right, though the Guards having moved by our rear and subsequently
forming on our right, we at the close of the battle stood between the
two brigades.
The battle, although it lasted little more than two hours, was
extremely fierce and bloody, and its results marked the gallantry
of the two nations by whom it was fought. Two thousand French,
with three general officers, were either killed or wounded; and
they lost six guns and an Eagle. The loss on our side consisted of
five lieutenant-colonels, one major, sixteen captains, twenty-six
lieutenants, thirteen ensigns, one staff, fifty-one sergeants, eleven
hundred and eighty rank and file, making a total of twelve hundred and
ninety-three put _hors de combat_. But of all the army the severest
loss sustained was by the grenadiers and light bobs of the 28th
Regiment; and it may truly be said that the young soldiers who filled
up the vacancies left in those companies by the veterans who fell in
the mountains of Galicia or at Corunna or who sunk through the swamps
in Walcheren, were this day introduced to a glorious scene of action.
Two-thirds of the men and all the officers lay on the battlefield: one
alone of the latter was enabled to resume his legs, for he had no bone
broken; he continued through the fight,--’twas the system of the old
Slashers.
[Sidenote: FRIENDSHIP AND DEATH.]
The flank officers of the 28th Regiment who fell in the battle
were Captain Mullins, Lieutenant Wilkinson and Lieutenant Light
(Grenadiers); and Captain Bradley and Lieutenants Bennet, Blakeney and
Moore. Poor Bennet was shot through the head whilst gallantly cheering
on the men through an incessant shower of grape and musketry. On seeing
him fall I darted to the spot and too plainly discovered the cause. It
grieved me that I could not stop for an instant with my dearest friend
and first companion of my youth; but friendship, however fervid, must
yield to imperative duty. The men were fast falling and it required
the utmost exertion to keep the survivors together, exposed, as they
then were, to a murderous fire of round-shot, grape and musketry. My
exertions at the moment were rather limping, as I had just been struck
by a grape-shot under the hip, which for a moment laid me prostrate.
I could only cast a mournful look at Bennet, poor fellow. It may be
that our firm friendship conduced to his fate. A vacancy occurred in
the light company a few days before the action, and I saw that Bennet
would willingly fill it up; but it was an established rule, at least
in the regiment, that a senior lieutenant could never be put over the
head of a junior already serving in the light company. Perceiving that
his delicacy prevented his asking, I prevailed upon Colonel Belson to
appoint him, although my senior. With the battalion two officers only
were wounded, Captain Cadell and Lieutenant Anderson. In the flank
companies no officer escaped, and poor Bennet fell, to rise no more.
But after all man must have a final place of rest, and the appropriate
bed of a soldier is the battlefield; and it will be some consolation to
his friends to know that never did a soldier fall more gallantly or on
a day more glorious, and never was an officer more highly esteemed when
living, nor, when he fell, more sincerely regretted by the whole of
his brother officers. He was wounded about noon on the 5th; the brain
continually oozed through the wound; yet strange to say he continued
breathing until the morning of the 7th, when he calmly expired with
a gentle sigh. A marble slab was subsequently erected in the chapel
of the Government House at Gibraltar, to the memory of Bennet and of
Lieutenant Light of the Grenadiers, by their affectionate brother
officers who unfeignedly regretted the early fall of the two gallant
youths.
A few days after the battle the 28th Regiment returned to Gibraltar
and the flank battalion to Tarifa, where we joyfully reoccupied our
old quarters in the houses of the truly hospitable inhabitants. I was
billeted in the house of an old priest, Don Favian Durque. His sister,
an old maiden lady, lived with him, and it is impossible to express
the kindness and attention which I received from both. When the old
lady heard that the grape-shot which struck me had first passed through
an orange, a ration loaf and a roast fowl, with tears in her eyes she
knelt down and with religious fervency devoutly offered up her thanks
to the Blessed Virgin, who, she said, must have fed the fowl which so
miraculously saved my life.
A week had not elapsed after our return to Tarifa when Colonel
Browne received a letter from General Graham requesting that
he would recommend any officer of the flank battalion who had
distinguished himself in the late action. This was in consequence
of some circumstances having come to the general’s knowledge,
principally through his Adjutant-General, Colonel McDonald, and his
Quartermaster-General, Colonel Ponsonby, as well as through his
aide-de-camp, Captain Calvert. Colonel Browne then recommended me to
the general.
Having had occasion to go to Cadiz on private affairs, I carried the
colonel’s letter, upon presenting which the general delayed not a
moment in sending a report on the subject to the commander-in-chief,
with a strong recommendation; and during my stay in the Isla I had the
honour of dining every day at the general’s table. In Colonel Browne’s
letter, which he read to me, the capture of the howitzer is stated,
but is not mentioned in General Graham’s report. In fact he could not
well have mentioned it, having already reported the capture of all the
guns in his official despatch. I cannot help thinking that had Colonel
Browne not forgotten his promise to me, solemnly and spontaneously
pledged on our meeting on Barossa Hill, and had he mentioned my name to
General Graham before that gallant officer sent off his despatches, my
promotion to a company would not have been the result of a subsequent
action.
We remained at Tarifa a few months longer, continually fighting for our
bread (the crops), when many a lively and serious skirmish took place.
It is a pleasant little town, and famous as the point where the Moors
made their first descent into Spain, invited by Count Julian to avenge
the insult offered to his daughter, the beautiful Florinda, by Roderick
the last of the Visigoth monarchs. When the Moors had been expelled
from Spain, a watch-tower was erected here, in which towards evening
a bell rings every hour until dark; it then sounds every half hour
until midnight,--from that hour until three o’clock in the morning it
rings every quarter, and after that every five minutes until daybreak.
This custom continued down to the period when we were quartered there
and probably does so to the present time; and this bell to our great
annoyance hung close to the officers’ guardroom.
[Sidenote: CASTILIAN PURITY.]
Nothing offends a Spaniard, particularly in Andalusia, more than
to insinuate even that he is in any way connected with the Moors.
Should you through doubt ask a Spaniard to what country he belongs,
he answers that he is a pure and legitimate Castilian, not intending
to say that he is a native of either of the Castiles or that he was
born in wedlock, but giving you to understand that his veins are
not contaminated with any mixture of Moorish blood. Yet in Tarifa,
where they are most particular on this point, they still continue a
Moorish custom peculiar to that town and not practised, I believe, in
any other part of Spain. The ladies wear a narrow shawl or strip of
silk, called a mantilla, generally black; the centre of this strip is
placed on the crown of the head, the ends hanging down in front of
the shoulders, the deep fringe, with which they are trimmed, reaching
close to the ankle. So far this dress is common throughout Spain; but
in Tarifa the ladies cross the mantilla in front of their faces, by
which the whole countenance is concealed, with the exception of one
eye; this is done by dexterously lapping the mantilla across at the
waist, and so gracefully that the movement is scarcely perceptible. I
have seen many English and even Spanish ladies of the other provinces
endeavour to imitate this sudden and graceful movement, but never
without awkwardness; whereas every female in Tarifa accomplishes it in
a moment. This temporary disguise is resorted to when the ladies go out
to walk; and so perfect is the concealment and the dress of the ladies
so much alike, that the most intimate acquaintances pass each other
unknown. Thus accidents may happen and husbands fail to know their own
wives.
Spanish ladies in general are very fine figures, for which reason, as
I have been told, their under garments, far from flowing, are very
narrow, and tied down the front with many knots of fine silk ribbon.
The order for the flank companies to join headquarters having arrived,
after a long and happy sojourn we bade a final adieu to this pleasant
and hospitable little town, and proceeded to Gibraltar.
After remaining a few days in Gibraltar to exchange our tattered
Barossa clothing for a new outfit, which the flank companies had no
opportunity of doing previously, the regiment sailed for Lisbon on July
10th, on board two men-of-war; but a calm setting in, we were carried
by the current to Ceuta on the African coast. Dropping anchor, the
officers landed to dine with our old friends, the 2nd Battalion 4th or
King’s Own, who were quartered there; but the weather promising fair,
Blue Peter and a gun summoned us on board before the cloth was removed.
[Sidenote: SCENES OF LOVE AND WAR.]
Next morning we found ourselves off Tarifa. The whole population
were on the beach kissing hands and waving kerchiefs in the breeze;
we recognised them all; and a recollection of the many happy days
we passed there, where so oft we played and sang and danced the gay
fandango, called forth from all a tear or sigh. The Tarifa ladies
were famed throughout Spain for their beauty. But the charmed city
soon receded from our view; and on we plodded listlessly, until we
came abreast of Barossa Hill, when we all hurried on deck and drank
a flowing bumper with three times three cheers to the health of the
gallant Graham. Continuing our course towards the land, where dwell the
brown maids with the lamp-black eyes, we arrived at Lisbon on the 20th
and next day disembarked.
Our field equipments were immediately put in preparation; our baggage
animals were procured as soon as the market supplied, and as cheap as
the Portuguese sharpers would sell, who next to Yorkshiremen are the
greatest rogues known in regard to horses. Our wooden canteens were
well soaked, securely to keep in what the commissaries cautiously
served out. A portable larder or haversack was given to each to carry
his provisions in, and a clasp knife which was both fork and spoon.
Our little stock of tea, sugar and brandy was carefully hoarded in a
small canteen, wherein dwelt a little tin kettle, which also acted
the part of teapot; _two_ cups and saucers (in case of company), two
spoons, two forks, two plates of the same metal, a small soup-tureen,
which on fortunate occasions acted as punch-bowl but never for soup.
This was termed a rough-and-ready canteen for officers of the line
only. Hussars, lancers and other cavalry captains would doubtless
sooner starve than contaminate their aristocratic stomachs with
viands, however exquisite, served on such plebeian utensils; however a
frying-pan was common to all ranks.
[Sidenote: TO THE MEMORY OF SIR JOHN MOORE.]
Our equipment being completed, the march was announced for August 1st.
Many conflicting sentiments jarred in our breasts the night before.
Thoughts of the bloody battles we had gained and the prospect of a
glorious campaign before us were gloomed by the recollection that not
long before we had taken the same route with Sir John Moore at our
head; that since that period the ranks of the regiment had been thinned
or swept away at Corunna, Oporto, Talavera, Albuera, Barossa. Many a
gallant soldier and sincere friend had been laid low since last we met
at Lisbon. With these recollections we sat down to table, and eating
seemed but a work of necessity, which passed in mute action. The cloth
being removed, a bumper was proposed to the memory of the immortal
Moore. It was drunk in perfect silence and, as it were, with religious
solemnity. The martial figure and noble mien of the calumniated hero
stood erect in the imagination, and was perfect in the memory of all;
but a painful recollection of the mournful state in which we last
beheld him saddened every countenance. We seemed to see him borne in a
blanket by the rear of the regiment, the moon acting as one big torch
to light the awful procession as it moved slowly along, our men falling
around him as if anxious, even in death, to follow their gallant
leader, and the enemy’s guns firing salvos as if to cheer the warrior’s
last moments. He knew that they were beaten. Thus Sir John Moore
bade his final adieu to the regiment, all shattered save his martial
spirit and lofty mind,--these were unbroken and remained inflexible.
He yielded his last breath with a sigh of love for his country and
of yearning for his profession. After this toast was drunk the band
with muffled drums played, “Peace to the Fallen Brave”; but either the
instruments were out of tune or our souls not tuned to harmony. The
music sounded mournful and low; a dark gloom like a Pyrenean cloud hung
cold, damp and clammy around; we tried to shake it off but in vain.
Our next bumper was to the memory of our late gallant comrades, who
gloriously fell since our last march from Lisbon, gallantly maintaining
the honour of their country and corps. This toast was also drunk in
solemn silence, while many an eye swam at the recollection of scenes
and friends gone for ever. I thought of my poor friend, Bennet. This
toast led to the mention of several anecdotes, wherein the deceased
bore the principal part. The gallant feats of our departed friends
insensibly revived sentiments of a less mournful nature; the foggy
vapour somewhat cleared away.
Our third and last bumper was “To our next happy meeting; and
whosoever’s lot it be to fall may the regiment soon and often be placed
in a situation to maintain the glory of their country, and may they
never forget the bravery and discipline which won the ‘back-plates.’”
This sentiment was received with wild enthusiasm, and so loudly cheered
by all that gloom and melancholy were frightened out of the room. The
festive board gradually resumed its wonted cheerful tone; the merry
song went round drowning the doleful funeral dirge; past misfortunes
and useless regrets were forgotten. We sat late and drank deep, and
thoughts of the fair and of future glory alone occupied our minds.
Heedless of the obstacles opposed to reward of personal merit by an
all-grasping aristocratical interference, our heated imaginations
presented nothing but blood, wounds and scars, ribbons and stars to
our dancing vision now becoming double and doubtful; and at last we
retired--but to prepare for advance. Such was the custom of gallant gay
soldiers the night previous to opening a campaign; in their breasts
the reign of _ennui_ is but short, and they spurn presentiments
and foreboding, harboured only by the feeble nerve, the disordered
brain, the shattered constitution, or by those whose vices conjure up
frightful phantoms to their troubled conscience.