MY DEAR B.--As my daily adventures just now would be rather
disagreeable than interesting, I shall give you some account of
the latter operations in Spain. As much as I can vouch for will be
included in a relation of my own movements.
When the army arrived at Astorga, Sir John Moore sent me to
La Puebla, the capital of Sanabria, a mountainous district in
the kingdom of Leon bordering on Portugal. The place is in the
direct but worst road from Benavente to Orense, and as it had
been determined that a column should take a better though longer
road to Vigo, the object of my mission chiefly was to give
immediate intelligence to Sir John Moore should the enemy show
any disposition (by taking the shorter route from Benavente or
elsewhere to Orense) to cut off the retreat of the column marching
on Vigo.
I was apprised of the time when our army would reach the
different stages of its retreat, that I might judge where to
rejoin it, having executed the service for which I was detached.
Being satisfied on this head, I set out for Orense, making long
journeys and sometimes travelling by night, the roads very bad and
mountainous, rendered almost impassable by snow, but the scenery in
many parts extremely beautiful and romantic, particularly in the
neighbourhood of Monterey, an old mountain castle of, I believe, no
military importance.
From the intelligence I procured at Verin, immediately below it,
I thought it better to avoid Orense and proceed to Vigo by the
shortest road, crossing the river Minho (over which there is a
bridge at Orense) by a ferry.
The Minho at this place is a very rapid, turbid stream, carrying
down with great velocity huge timbers and fragments torn by the
waters from the mountain sides, or hurled from their tops by
the fury of the winter blasts. The scenery is extremely rich
and beautiful, having an inexpressible charm viewed from the
stupendous heights, immediately impending the river, over which the
road winds.
The rugged steepness of the roads greatly lengthens the leagues,
and the journeys, which one laid down from the experience of
other parts of Spain, are obliged to be most teasingly divided in
Galicia, particularly irksome to me on account of the uncertainty
there was of the light in which our retreat would be viewed by
the barbarous, arrogant, and ignorant, though not ungenerous,
Spaniards, for few of the most enlightened would be capable of
exculpating me in any cause of anger they might imagine against
my country. Having performed a hundred miles of this journey, I
unexpectedly fell in with the column that marched upon Vigo, and
having communicated with General Alton, I was confirmed in my
determination to proceed to Vigo, as all communication between
him and the main body of the army had for some time ceased. As it
appeared that the enemy had not got scent of this small column,
and there was not the smallest probability of anything interesting
taking place at the embarkation at Vigo, it became a very earnest
object with me to reach Corunna, where it did not seem likely that
affairs would have so insipid a complexion. I was therefore very
well pleased to find that my friend Burgoyne had been sent to Vigo,
and was to wait there until the embarkation was effected. At this
time it was pretty confidently believed at headquarters that I had
fallen into the hands of the enemy. This left me fully at liberty
to proceed with the transports to Corunna, and Sir Samuel Hood,
whom I had formerly known in the Baltic, was so kind as to offer
me a passage in the _Barfleur_. It would be needless to describe
the anxiety I felt respecting what might be the state of affairs
at Corunna, where I was sensible that the army must have been some
days. I supposed and hoped that some natural advantages would
enable them to repel for so long a time the forces of France, but
this might not be the case, and when we arrived that beautiful army
might be no more. I got into the harbour in the _Minerva_ frigate
on the evening of the 14th January. I went immediately to Sir John
Moore, who received me most kindly, and notwithstanding the cruel
anxiety he must have suffered, still supported that most engaging
exterior so endearing to his friends and so prepossessing to
strangers on whom he did not think proper to frown. I then sought
out my friends and brother officers, and was greeted by them as
one risen from the dead. I, too, felt inexpressible pleasure at
getting again amongst my companions, and in feeling satisfied by
the tranquillity at Corunna that things were not going on badly;
to find my friend Lefebure, too, one of the party, and almost
reestablished in health (for owing to excessive anxiety and fatigue
in his attendance on the army of Blake, he was attacked and nearly
carried to the grave by a fever) gave me the highest pleasure.
He spread a mattress for me on the floor, and I slept as
undisturbed as if the French had not passed the Pyrenees. I found
that the whole effective forces of the British occupied a position
about three miles from the walls of Corunna, which they had held
since the 12th, and where they had hutted themselves. This position
in a military point of view was very bad, for it was immediately
opposed to one of greatly superior strength and elevation, which
ground the British, being the defensive and smaller force, could
not possess, their object being to contract the front presented to
the enemy, who had the power to attack with unlimited numbers.
They were therefore obliged to relinquish the commanding ground to
the enemy, and to make up by their superior firmness and courage
the great defects of their position.
[Illustration]
I know not if you understand plan drawing well enough to be
assisted by a small hasty outline. The position of the British was
bad because commanded by that of the enemy, but more especially
because the right was liable to be turned--ⴲ. The hill itself,
G, was very well against assault, because the side was very much
intersected by steep banks and fences which, defended by our
troops, could not be carried. The sketch I have given you is on the
first impression of memory, and without the wish to be accurate,
just to help you by a spilt-port-wine drawing to the sort of thing.
The fortification of Corunna (xxx) was infinitely better than any
entrenchment thrown up occasionally. It was much improved and
strengthened by us, and though its being fatally commanded, without
bomb proof, and many other faults and disadvantages, natural and
incurred, would prevent its pretending to withstand a regular
siege, yet as a barrier against assault for a certain time it
was as good as could be; 1500 men might stand behind it and defy
20,000. Nothing, therefore, could be better to cover the tail of an
embarkation. The outer position was maintained that the fleet might
not be molested, which it might have been, for instance, from St.
Lucia, etc., that the first business of the embarkation might be
neither looked into nor molested, and that the tranquillity of the
town might be as long as possible preserved. And now, after this
explanation, I shall continue my narrative.
On the morning of the 15th, after breakfast, upon hearing some
popping and that the enemy were making some demonstration, I
borrowed Lefebure’s horse (having left both my own at Vigo) and
rode to the English position.
[Illustration: VIEW OF THE BRITISH AND FRENCH POSITIONS BEFORE
CORUNNA, TAKEN FROM THE CITADEL.
_a b_ British Line.
_c d_ French Line.
_e_ Magazine blown up 14th Jan. 1809.
_f_ The village of Elvina.
_g g_ Heights occupied by the French on the morning of 17th Jan.
From an illustration in “Campaign of Lt.-Gen. Sir John Moore, K.B.”
(1809).]
The enemy were thrusting out their sharpshooters in all directions,
a species of warfare or battle which they understand the best.
Ours, however, were not backward, and gave them at least shot
for shot. A distant cannonade was soon after commenced on both
sides, the French firing at our groups of officers, and indeed
at individuals, for I was honoured twice in this way, and my
friend Lefebure’s horse had a narrow escape. They then made a
parade of their force and several movements on their heights as if
they meant something, but merely meaning, I fancy, to know if we
still held our ground and with what force. Sir John Moore was out
all day, and I followed in his suite over our whole position. He
spoke to all officers as he went along, giving cautions, orders,
and instructions, and looked wistfully at the enemy, apparently
wishing with painful eagerness for a battle. Those who suppose
these wishes were excited by any thought of his own fame, do not
know Sir John Moore. He wrote to Sir S. Hood that he was anxious
for an engagement, because he thought it would be the only means
of securing an unmolested embarkation. The sharpshooting and
cannonading continued throughout the day, but the number of killed
and wounded on our side was inconsiderable, and probably was no
greater on that of the enemy.
On the morning of the 16th no skirmishing was heard from the
outposts, and everything wore the face of an understanding on the
part of the enemy that it was now their business to fight us. As
long as we remained embattled upon our position we thought it
was not their business, and feared they waited a more favourable
opportunity, which must soon be afforded them. For Sir John Moore
was determined, much as he wished to give them a check, not to
wait any longer, for every day, while it added to their strength,
brought with it the chance of a foul wind, which could not be too
much dreaded if it lasted long enough to drive us into the town,
and to give time to the French to establish batteries on the margin
of the harbour for the destruction of the fleet.
At one o’clock I was charged with the erection of a battery in
the town and some other works on the ramparts. At about three
o’clock we heard the firing begin, sharpshooting first, and then
more general, and so much cannonade as convinced me it must be
more serious than on the preceding day. Nothing I could say or
do could prevail upon the soldiers to lay aside the air of the
last extremity of fatigue which they had assumed. The shovel of
earth approached the top of the bank as leisurely as the finger
of a clock marches round the dial. I was therefore a good deal
struck with admiration at their behaviour when at four o’clock an
order came for them to join their regiments, which were marching
to the field. They threw down their tools, jumped to their arms,
hallooed and frisked as boys do when loosed from school, these
poor, tattered, half-dead-looking devils. I was no less pleased to
be left at liberty. An Engineer has no appropriate place or defined
duty in an open battle, but he is always acceptable in the field
if mounted, because he is generally a good sensible smart fellow
that looks about him, and is trustworthy in the communication and
explanations of orders.
What we generally do, therefore, is to offer our several services
as aides-de-camp to the several generals whom we may pitch upon or
fall in with; and had I been mounted I should have gone straight to
General Moore upon finding myself at liberty. But now a horse was
my first object. The firing rather increased than slackened. I had
never been present at a general action, and I wished painfully for
a horse. Thinks I, “I’ll walk towards the scene of things, and I
may meet a horse that has lost his master.” I went a little way and
overtook a gunner with a saddle on his back.
“What are you going to do with that?” said I.
“I am taking it to St. Lucia,” said he.
“What for?”
“It is there that all the artillery horses are.”
“Oh, ho!” A thought struck me, and I followed him. When I arrived
I went straight to an officer of gunner drivers and explained to
him my situation. The obliging fellow instantly ordered a horse
to be saddled, to my great delight. I asked him, “What news from
the field?” “General Baird is killed,” said he. I galloped off,
and on my way up I overtook an artillery officer, who told me
General Moore was dangerously wounded. I know not how it was, but
I certainly galloped on with much less count of personal danger.
The enemy had so placed two guns that the overshots invariably came
whizzing down the road. As they passed one another I leaned on one
side, and thought each destined for my head.
The object of my search now was General Hope. I spied a clump of
officers standing just behind the two lines engaged. From the
situation they had taken up I thought this group most likely
to be General Hope and his suite, so I hastened to it, and was
not disappointed. He was looking very attentively at the two
uninterrupted lines of fire though he said hardly anything, just
sent an order in a quiet way now and then, and whenever the fire
immediately before him seemed to slacken, he appeared instinctively
to potter down to some place where hotter firing was. I was very
glad to find myself so little disturbed by the whizzing of balls.
The fire was very hot, and several men and horses of our group were
struck, but I was thinking more of the novel sight before me, and
glorying in the brave obstinacy of our people, who after so furious
and long-continued and unabated an attack still refused to yield
one inch to the column after column, relieving each other, that
assailed them.
When first indeed I reached General Hope’s party, I looked up at
a clear part of the sky and silently begged of God that should a
ball this day despatch me, He would forgive me my sins and take me
to heaven, and after that I felt finely settled and elevated and
indifferent to the event, while the cheering and volleying of our
soldiers warmed my heart.
As it was growing dusk a roar of musketry was volleyed on the left,
followed by a roar of huzzas quite as loud. General Hope asked,
“What’s that?” “The 59th coming up fresh, sir.”
Colonel Graham came up and told him (the firing had almost ceased)
that the enemy still possessed a village which was thought too near
to us, and asked if it should be taken. General Hope desired that
some companies of the 15th might take it, and soon after an officer
came up and announced the capture. The firing had totally ceased.
General Hope rode round the position, and then went to Corunna to
make such arrangements as might be required. We got to the town
about eight o’clock. I rode to Sir John Moore’s quarters, and going
upstairs met Colonel Graham. He told me Sir John was lying on his
mattress dying, that he heard him groan. Perhaps had I gone in,
pressed his hand, and got a kind word from him, it would have been
a source of pleasure to me now, but then I had no stomach for it.
His shoulder and part of his left side were carried away by cannon
shot. His great good spirit left his body at nine o’clock.
General Hope’s letter[25] is as accurate and chastely true as it
is simple, elevated, and beautiful; so great a degree of accuracy
one would scarcely have expected, or thought compatible with the
elegance of the language, the smoothness and entireness of the
narrative. I advise you, if you have forgotten it, or did not know
that it was something _more_ than a beautiful piece of writing, to
read it again.
Our obstinate battle, the coming in of our wounded, and the
melancholy death of our chief had a very great effect upon the
feelings of the people of Corunna. “This is for us! this is for us!
Poor English, they bleed for us!”
This sort of thing soon worked itself into a transport of generous
enthusiasm, which was both beneficial and satisfactory to us.
At about four o’clock on the morning of the 17th, when my
companions and I got up, we found that nearly all the army was
embarked. The wind was beginning to blow very hard, which made the
embarkation very difficult, but, thank God, it blew the right way.
On the 16th Sir John Moore had desired Fletcher, chief engineer,
to name the number of men he thought necessary to occupy the
town line, and to furnish a minute distribution of them upon the
different works.
This Fletcher did, and I went round with him and General Beresford
(who was entrusted with the forlorn hope), that Fletcher might
explain the distribution to him.
Had the French not been so severely cowed and beaten as they were,
and had come on to the attack at dawn, Beresford with 1500 men
would have held that line while the embarkation was completing, and
probably at night have withdrawn to the citadel, protecting that
and his own embarkation with a small portion of his force. Then
these last would have rushed to the boats in waiting, jumped in,
and trusted to the gates and ditches to keep out the enemy until
they had shoved off from the shore.
But the impressive lesson the French had received rendered these
operations unnecessary; and had not General Hope determined
by doing things with the leisure he could command, to do them
completely, the whole fleet might have been out at sea on the 17th
before a Frenchman had ventured to show his nose.
But it was resolved to embark the sick and wounded, to bury General
Moore, and therefore to keep the 1500 men upon the line until
evening.
I went with Squire (a friend of mine in the Engineers) walking
about the line, and at about seven o’clock we fell in with General
Hope, and accompanied him all over the peninsula behind the walls
of Corunna. He spoke with much satisfaction of the result of
the battle. The troops, he said, had been withdrawn without the
knowledge or suspicion of the enemy, deceived by their remaining
fires.
At about ten o’clock, I think, a few Frenchmen appeared
slinking into the houses near the walls of Corunna, and the
Spaniards, acting up to the magnitude of their hatred to every
Frenchman, banged at each individual with a 32-pounder. They were
sharpshooting this way all day long, though at first we could not
conceive the cause of such a heavy cannonade.
General Hope asked us to breakfast with him. “Squire, Boothby, will
you come and have some chocolate?” were not unacceptable words.
I have loved and admired this quiet, modest, superior being ever
since I have known him.
I believe the Spaniards were entirely aware of our determination to
embark, yet their enthusiastic blaze in the good cause continued
to increase. “They would die in the ruins of their walls.” It even
pervaded the women, who all day long were seen with cartridges and
wads upon their heads for the service of the batteries.
They were jealous of our interference on the walls, which they
wished to defend themselves, so that orders were given to our
people not to appear on the walls, the portion destined for their
defence being posted behind the ramparts, which were covered with
all sorts and both sexes of Spaniards.
Everybody commanded, everybody fired, everybody hallooed, everybody
ordered silence, everybody forbade the fire, everybody thought
musketry best, and everybody cannon. In short, you have no notion
of the loud misrule which prevailed.
However gratifying to us the display of such a spirit might be, or
however beneficial to cover and complete our retreat, I believe a
scrupulous care was had neither to promote nor increase it.
It was a spontaneous burst, coming up itself, and impossible to be
checked--so much unexpected by us that arrangements were made for
the last party to spike all the guns in the place. And while we
could not but admire the honesty of their zeal, we lamented that it
might increase the calamities of the capture, but this, I am happy
to find, has not been the case.
It is said that the Governor candidly acknowledged that he should
not attempt to stand a siege in so defective a place, but promised
that as long as his walls gave protection to an Englishman or an
English ship, he would never surrender.
The ground now in possession of the French would enable them to
cannonade the shipping which still remained in the harbour as
thick as a wood, although for the most part filled with troops.
The General had urged this point with Sir S. Hood, who urged it
strongly to the Admiral, De Courcy. It is said that the transports
did get the order to proceed to sea the moment they had received
their complement of troops.
If so, they, with a degree of idiotic disobedience not unusual nor
incompatible with the character of masters of transports, took no
heed.
Certain it is that we in the town were rather longing to see a
French battery open upon them, which we thought would make them get
under way with a signal and beneficial expedition.
But the fact was that we did not despise them half enough, nor know
of what extreme cowardice and rascality they were capable.
General Hope determined to be the last man on shore, and desired
to have some Engineers remain with him, in which number I was. But
at about two o’clock, when the General found that no preparations
were making against our line, and that the enemy contented himself
with preparing a battery on the top of the height overlooking the
shipping, he expressed a wish that we all should embark, as at dusk
the boats would be so much occupied that we might find it difficult
to get off.
We therefore proceeded together in search of a bit of victuals into
the inner town, induced the people to unlock a high tavern, and sat
down to a plate of cabbage soup.
It was while thus employed that the French battery opened upon the
shipping. It consisted of two field-pieces, which the fears of the
French had situated in such a manner as to be as little hurtful as
possible.
[Illustration]
Instead of going to the top of the hill, had they ventured down to
an old stone fort (which we had abandoned) with their guns _à fleur
d’eau_, they would probably have hulled some ship or other every
shot, but their plunging fire could only touch one spot, and if
that spot were not a ship, the ball went innocuously to the bottom.
But the end which the caution of the enemy would not permit him to
attain was effectually given to him by the cowardice of the masters
of the transports. The wind was blowing very strong, and the first
shot from the enemy was the signal for them to cut their cables.
Thus, being all adrift at once, it is only wonderful that more did
not strike upon the leeward rocks. Seven, I believe, struck, three
were got off, and four, after being cleared, were burnt by us, and
beautifully lighted the last of the embarkation. The transports
that were got off had been previously abandoned by the masters.
A midshipman of the _Barfleur_ told me that on going alongside of a
transport on the rocks, the master threw his trunk into the boat,
jumped in after it, and then, before a single soldier was out, he
cried, “Shove off, or she’ll bilge.” He was knocked backwards by a
sailor.
We got on board a man-of-war’s boat, which put me on board the
_Barfleur_ to get something I had left there. I was invited to go
home in her, which I gladly accepted.
The embarkation being completed, General Beresford came on board
at two o’clock in the morning, and when the fleet was collected it
sailed for Old England....
After taking the trouble to write this very long letter, my dear
B., shall you be able to get through it? I beg at any rate that
you will not destroy it, as it completes my Spanish Journal, and I
have no copy of this or any other narrative of that period of my
proceedings.--Your most affectionate brother,