The Light Brigade composed of the 43d and 52d regiments of Light
Infantry, and the 1st battalion 95th Rifle Corps. Embark for Lisbon
under Brigadier-General Robert Crawford. Arrive at Lisbon. Proceed
by water to Vallada. Santarem. Convents and nuns. March from
Santarem to join Sir Arthur Wellesley. Sketch of the march. The Pass
of Villa Velha, Castello Branco, Zarzo Maior, Coria, Orapeza, &c.
Extraordinary long march on 28th July, and want of water. We join
the army at Talavera. Slight sketch of the field of action.
A very short time had elapsed after the return of the army from Corunna
and Vigo, when orders were transmitted to the three light regiments, the
43d, 52d, and the first battalion of our own corps, to prepare for
service again, with the least possible delay, and to form a brigade
under Brigadier-General Robert Crawford. Our destination was Portugal.
The losses which we had sustained in the late campaign were filled up
from our 2d and 3d battalions; and I conclude that the 43d and 52d were
completed in a similar manner. On the 25th May, 1809, our battalion
embarked at Dover in the Malabar, Fortune, and Laurel transports, and
sailed immediately to the Downs, where we remained at anchor several
days, in very boisterous weather. On the 3d of June we sailed under
convoy of La Nymphe frigate and the Kangaroo sloop of war, and anchored
at St. Helen’s.
In consequence of adverse winds, we were detained between St. Helen’s,
Spithead, Ryde, Cowes, and Yarmouth in the Isle of Wight, until the 18th
of June, during which we contrived to kill time by various excursions to
Portsmouth, Ryde, Newport, Carisbrook Castle, Yarmouth, and Leamington.
[N. B. We all agreed that the women of the Isle of Wight were
particularly handsome.]
On the 18th of June we passed the Needles with a fresh breeze; and the
order of the day on board our transport was, to bombard the sea-fowl
which swarm at this season on the rocks. Rifles and fowling-pieces, with
ball, slugs, and swan-shot, were brought into full play on this
occasion.
On the 19th, we were abundantly supplied with fish by the Torbay
fishermen; and, moreover, opened another heavy and destructive fire on
such unfortunate gulls and other sea-birds as ventured within reach. We
pursued our course with favourable winds and heavenly weather, and
entered the Tagus on the 28th of June, and the same day anchored abreast
of Lisbon. The pilot who conducted our vessel into the Tagus related
some marvellous stories of the Marquis of Romana having recently played
the devil with one of the French armies. We placed, however, but little
reliance on his report.
As we entered Lisbon last year, after the convention of Cintra, by the
roads leading to it from Vimeira, we had not until now so fair an
opportunity of judging of its magnificent appearance from the Tagus. The
country houses and convents on the sides of most picturesque hills,
thickly planted with vines; the legion of windmills near Belem; and,
finally, the city itself, form altogether so enchanting a picture, that
any attempt of mine to do it justice must inevitably fail _in toto_.
Besides, Lisbon and its river have been often described by far more able
pens. How sadly is a stranger disappointed when he lands and traverses
the dirty, rascally streets of this priest-ridden city, and wades, hour
after hour, through one uninterrupted accumulation of disgusting filth,
in which the inhabitants appear to glory and rejoice! Instead of being
the most disreputable and dirty place in Europe (or perhaps on the
globe), it might most assuredly be the very reverse. Above the city is
one of the finest aqueducts in the universe, from which almost every
street might, with good management, be constantly washed, and every
thing offensive carried down to the Tagus. But this, it appears, is
quite foreign to Portuguese taste. Let them therefore vegetate in the
old way, and luxuriate in the effluvia to which they have ever been
accustomed.
We were busily employed, from the moment of our arrival on the 28th of
June, to the 2d of July, in purchasing horses, mules, donkeys,
pack-saddles, cigars, and various other odds and ends, indispensable in
campaigning. We were to proceed, without delay, to join Sir Arthur
Wellesley, who was at this time in Spanish Estremadura. He had arrived
at Lisbon from England about a couple or three months after Sir John
Moore’s army returned from Corunna to England, taking out with him some
troops, with which, in addition to the regiments left by Sir John Moore
in Portugal the previous autumn, he immediately commenced operations
against Marshal Soult; and, by a series of rapid and masterly movements,
advanced to the Douro—forced the passage of that river—completely
defeated the French army at Oporto, and drove them out of Portugal, with
the loss of their artillery, baggage, ammunition, &c. &c.; and
occasioned them a heavy loss also in killed, wounded, and prisoners.
The particulars of this brilliant exploit are too well-known to render
it necessary for me to enlarge on it. Having cleared Portugal a second
time of its invaders, Sir Arthur turned his attention in a southerly
direction, and was, at the period of the arrival of our brigade at
Lisbon, co-operating with the Spanish General Cuesta in Spanish
Estremadura. Instead of landing the light brigade at Lisbon, and
marching it to Santarem, it was determined that we should be conveyed in
boats to the village of Vallada, forty miles above the capital, and that
our baggage-animals should be sent by land to Santarem.
About midnight on the 2d of July, the tide serving to take us up the
river, we were put into flat-bottomed boats and launches, and the
tedious operation of towing us against the current commenced. After
twenty-four hours spent in this bewitching manner, every man’s legs
terribly cramped by being crammed so tight into the boat, we reached
Vallada, near which place we bivouacked on the bank of the river. I
never entertained the smallest doubt that all the frogs in the Peninsula
had assembled, by common consent on this occasion, to welcome us to
Portugal; for such an eternal croaking I never heard before or since. It
failed, however, to spoil our night’s rest, as sleep the previous night
had been quite out of the question, owing to our being constrained to
sit upright in the boats.
The three regiments composing the light brigade having now landed, I may
observe, that unprejudiced persons, and those neither directly nor
indirectly connected with it, have pronounced it the finest and most
splendid brigade that ever took the field. I will venture to go so far
as to assert, that if it has been _equalled_, it has never been
_surpassed_, in any army, whether the materials of which it was
composed, its fine appointments and arms, its _esprit du corps_, its
style of marching and manœuvring, and, in short, every requisite for a
light brigade, be considered. Each regiment was nearly eleven hundred
strong; there were many hundreds in each battalion to whom the smell of
_gunpowder in earnest_ was no novelty; for they had served with Nelson
at Copenhagen, with Auchmuty at Monte Video, with Whitelock in the
ill-fated and bloody business at Buenos Ayres, with Sir A. Wellesley at
Roleia and Vimeira, and with the ever-to-be-lamented Sir John Moore at
Corunna. If, therefore, they were not veterans in age, they had at least
some claim to the appellation from their services.
4th.—After a few hours’ sleep near Vallada, we bade adieu to our bivouac
and the frogs, and marched to Santarem, where we halted until the 7th,
waiting for our baggage-animals, ammunition, and commissariat
arrangements. Santarem is a good town, beautifully situated on a high
hill, clothed with the finest olive groves, on the right bank of the
Tagus, overlooking its fertile banks to a considerable distance, both
above and below the town. Like all towns of any size in Portugal, it is
full of churches and convents. With the fair inmates of the latter we
had a deal of chit-chat, although the close iron gratings which
separated us from our inamoratas obscured them in great measure from
view. That they all were blessed with sparkling black eyes, I am ready
to swear; the rest was left to the imagination. By means of the
_whirligig_ concern in which various matters find their way out of and
into the convent, these fair ladies presented us with preserved fruits,
nosegays, and all sorts of fine things; in return for which, certain
little notes or love-letters, written in villanously bad Portuguese,
were transmitted by the same mode of conveyance to them. They appeared
much interested as to the result of the campaign in which we were about
to take a part; and two of them, who were heartily tired of their
unnatural prison, declared to myself and a brother-officer, that they
were ready and willing to make their escape, with our assistance, and to
share our fortunes in the “tented field.” When one considers that by so
doing they would have brought down on them the vengeance of monks,
friars, padres, and mother-abbesses, and that these black-eyed damsels
must have calculated on being buried alive, or broiled on a gridiron,
had they been detected in such an adventure, we must admit that they
were heroines of the first class.
General Crawford having decided that his brigade should proceed
independently by regiments, our battalion moved on the 7th from
Santarem; and after a broiling march reached Golegao, a small town
prettily situated on the Tagus, but almost entirely deserted by the
inhabitants. Junot’s army had plundered and ravaged it thoroughly the
preceding year.
We marched on the 8th to Punheite and Tanchos, small towns on the right
bank of the Tagus. On a small island in the river near the latter place
stands a Moorish ruin, called Almeira, to which we paid a visit.
9th.—Reached Abrantes, a dirty town, but situated similarly to Santarem,
and commanding a most extensive and diversified prospect. We did not
halt in the town, but crossing to the left bank of the Tagus by a
pontoon bridge, bivouacked in some large woods.
On the 10th we halted on the same ground. General Crawford at this
period issued a long string of standing orders and regulations to his
brigade: many of them were undoubtedly excellent, and well calculated to
insure regularity, on the march, in camp, and in quarters; but they were
so exceedingly numerous, and some so very minute and tedious, that a man
must have been blessed with a better memory than falls to the general
lot of mortals to have recollected one half of them. I shall here remark
that, in consequence of the suffocating heat of the weather, our march
from Santarem into Spanish Estremadura was chiefly performed in the
night, or very early in the morning. We usually started soon after
midnight, and were thereby able, in general, to finish the day’s work by
eight or nine in the morning, and to rest during the heat of the day. In
some instances, when we did not commence the march until dawn of day, we
had, of course, the full benefit of a southern sun the greater part of
the way.
I was, unfortunately, one of those restless beings who, after a night
spent in marching, could not sleep in the bivouac during the day; and
many a time have I envied the happy fellows who lay down like dogs,
under a cork-tree, and slept most soundly, until the rations of tough
beef (perhaps killed only a few hours before), boiled into an _omnium
gatherum_, with an onion or two, some rice, and a mouldy ship biscuit,
were pronounced in a fit state for the table; the said dinner-table
being neither more nor less than the turf at the foot of a tree, with a
soldier’s knapsack by way of camp-chair; a japanned half-pint tin cup
stood for wine glass, which, with a pocket-knife, fork, and spoon, and a
tin plate, constituted the whole of our dinner service. It being utterly
impracticable to have a regimental mess whilst in the field, the
officers of each company formed a little mess of their own. Candlesticks
not being the fashion of the day, we substituted an empty bottle in
their place; and a most bandit-like appearance the interior of our tents
presented after dark, filled generally with such clouds of smoke from
our cigars, that I have often since wondered we were not smothered in
our sleep from such an atmosphere, in which we reposed rolled up in our
cloaks.
At midnight of the 10th we harnessed for the night’s march, and poked
our way in the dark towards Gavion, a poor town. Near it are some
Moorish ruins, which I would willingly have visited, had not my marching
propensities been fully satisfied for one day; having been thirteen
hours under arms, many of them under a scorching sun.
12th.—We reached, after a tedious march, Neza, a dirty town, where there
are some Moorish walls and ruins, on which multitudes of storks build
their nests. Both old and young birds were perched on the walls in great
numbers, and were fully as tame as pigeons. These birds are held sacred
in the Peninsula, and to shoot one of them is considered nothing short
of sacrilege.
13th.—Long before dawn of day we were again on our legs, and in due time
approached the awfully grand and terrific pass of Villa Velha, leading
down to the Tagus by a zig-zag mountainous road, so well known to all
old Peninsula men.
It would be presumptuous beyond measure for any one less gifted with
descriptive powers than Anne Radcliffe, to fancy he could do justice to
the wild beauties of this pass; suffice it, therefore, to say, that its
features are as bold and terrific as are to be found any where short of
the Alps or Pyrenees. There is scarcely a vestige of cultivation on
either bank of the river, which rushes with great rapidity through its
rocky bed at the foot of the pass. Eagles and vultures are abundant in
those regions; and their constantly soaring above the summits of the
mountains, which frown over the river, gives an additional interest to
the picture.
On the summit of a mountain rising abruptly from the Tagus on the
opposite bank, and clothed with gum cistus, stands a Moorish
watch-tower, an object which the admirers of fine scenery cannot fail
fully to appreciate. We bivouacked on the right bank of the river,
having passed it by a curious flying bridge, large enough to carry only
a company or two at a time, which made it a long and tedious process.
After two days’ march from Villa Velha over a bad description of
mountainous roads, and through an uncultivated country, prolific only in
stones, gum cistus, and cork-trees, we reached Castello Branco, a place
of considerable size, but, like the generality of Portuguese towns,
extremely dirty, with narrow streets, where tens of millions of flies
were amusing themselves. We halted here on the 16th and 17th, to allow
the 43d and 52d regiments to join us. Three men of the latter corps died
between Santarem and this place, from the excessive heat and fatigue. We
tried in vain, during our short sojourn there, to get a peep at the
nuns; but, as we afterwards learnt that they were old and ugly, it
ceased to be a disappointment. Leaving Castello Branco soon after
midnight, the light brigade bivouacked in some large woods of Spanish
oak and cork near Ladouira; and on the 19th, after toiling through many
leagues of a most barren, desolate, parched, uninteresting country, we
constructed huts for the day near the wretched village of Zebreira, a
few miles distant from which stand the town and Moorish castle of Monte
Santo—fine, wild-looking objects, perched on the summit of a mountain.
On the 20th we crossed the Elga, which river is here the boundary
between Portugal and Spain, and encamped near Zarza Maior.
A stranger is forcibly struck, on entering Spain from Portugal, by the
superior neatness and cleanliness which he finds, not only in the dress
of the Spanish peasantry, but moreover in their cottages; to say nothing
of the independent manly manner of the Spaniard, which, contrasted with
that of his Portuguese neighbour, throws the latter inevitably into the
shade. It was no trifling luxury to be able to purchase to-day some of
the excellent white bread of Spain, after grinding, day after day, a
short allowance of ship biscuit, or the very inferior bread of Portugal.
After two long and burning marches, through a country not particularly
attractive, we arrived at Coria on the 22d. On the 21st I shot, in a
large wood where we encamped, a beautiful bird, the name of which I am
ignorant of, never having seen one of the kind before or since. It was
of the crow genus, but much smaller, and the plumage variegated. On the
23d we halted at Coria. We made a fruitless effort to see and converse
with the nuns in one of the convents, who, we were assured, were young
and handsome. We undoubtedly had to thank the lady-abbess for their
non-appearance at their prison gates. Coria is a city of great
antiquity, situated in a country affording a variety of interesting
scenery. From the summit of a castle, now in a dilapidated state, but
once perhaps formidable, is an extensive and delightful prospect, with
mountains in the distance, forming an amphitheatre round the plains
watered by the Allagon, and bearing abundance of corn, vines, and
olives. The cathedral is a fine building, having, nevertheless, too much
gingerbread work in the interior. The streets of this city are
exceedingly clean and regular when compared with those of the towns
which we had recently marched through in Portugal.
During the 24th, 25th, 26th, and 27th, we continued our march, under a
burning sun. In those four days we passed from Coria to Naval Moral,
many miles of the route being through extensive and very thick forests
of ilex and cork. Half a pound of bread per man was served out on the
27th, which was instantly consumed, as, since our departure from Coria,
we knew of such a thing only by _name_.
On the evening of the 27th, vague rumours reached us at Naval Moral
relative to the hostile armies. We knew nothing certain further than
that Sir Arthur Wellesley and the Spanish General Cuesta had united
their forces in the plains some leagues in our front; and as the French
under Marshal Victor, the Duke of Belluno, were known to be not far
distant from the allied army, a general action might be expected daily.
28th.—Before day dawned we were off again, and ere long, something like
a distant cannonade was heard. Our suspense and anxiety can easily be
imagined, aware as we were of the proximity of the hostile armies to
each other. We arrived at Orapeza at mid-day, where General Crawford
considered a short halt indispensably necessary. He then directed the
commanding officers of regiments to select and leave at Orapeza such men
as were thought incapable of enduring the forced march which he
determined to make, and not to halt until he reached the British army,
which was known to be engaged in our front, as the distant but unceasing
cannonade plainly announced. Having rested his brigade in this burning
plain, where water was not to be procured, General Crawford put it in
motion towards Talavera de la Reina. It may well be conceived it was a
march productive of the highest degree of feverish anxiety and
excitement. The one only feeling was to push forward, to throw our mite
into the scale, and to lend a helping hand to our brothers in arms.
We soon met _wounded_ Spanish soldiers, and Spanish soldiers _not
wounded_, bending their course in a direction from the field of battle.
I wish I could assert with equal truth that this retrogression was
confined to our Spanish allies; but the truth must be told; and I regret
to say, that stragglers from the ranks of the British army, some without
a wound, were also taking a similar direction to the rear. As they
passed our column they circulated all sorts and kinds of reports of a
most disheartening nature: “The British army was utterly defeated, and
in full retreat;” “Sir Arthur Wellesley was wounded;” and, by others,
“he was killed.” In short, all was suspense and uncertainty. One thing
was, nevertheless, certain—that the cannonade continued without
cessation.
We pressed forward until ten o’clock at night, when, having reached a
pool of stagnant water near the road, in which cattle had been watered
during the summer, and where they had constantly wallowed, a halt was
ordered for an hour or two. Those who have never been in similar
situations may be inclined to doubt my veracity when I state, that the
whole brigade, officers and soldiers, rushed into this muddy water, and
drank with an eagerness and avidity impossible to describe. The use of
such an execrable beverage, except on extreme occasions, like the one in
question, where we had been the whole day without water, under a sun as
oppressive as can be experienced in Europe, might indeed be deemed
extraordinary; but excessive thirst knows no law.
After a short repose on the banks of this horse-pond, we again got under
weigh, and without another halt joined the British army in its position
at Talavera. Here we learnt that a most sanguinary contest had taken
place the day before, wherein the British army gained immortal glory,
the particulars of which are generally known; and as the light brigade
arrived too late to take a share in the fight, I shall not be expected
to describe them. To shew that our brigade did all men could do to reach
the field of action in time, suffice it to say, that in twenty-four
hours it passed over upwards of fifty miles of country; as extraordinary
a march, perhaps, as is to be found on record; particularly when it is
remembered that each soldier carried from sixty to eighty rounds of
ammunition, a musket or rifle, a great coat, and (if I recollect
rightly) a blanket, a knapsack complete, with shoes, shirts, &c. &c.; a
canteen and haversack, bayonet, belts, &c. &c. Such a load, carried so
great a distance, would be considered a hard day’s work for a horse. The
heat was intense, as every soldier who has served in the Peninsula well
knows is the case in the month of July, in the heart of Spain, on its
sun-burnt, arid plains. Water was scarcely to be had, and of such
quality that the quadrupeds doomed to drink it need not have been
envied, much less the bipeds. It must also be added, that for some days
before we had been very scantily supplied with provisions. Very few men,
comparatively speaking, were left on the road. The constant cannonade
heard in front was a stimulus which had a most beneficial effect, and
made them forget, for a time, their extraordinary fatigue.
It is not my intention to question the propriety or necessity of the
light brigade having been halted two days at Santarem, one day at
Abrantes, two days at Castello Branco, and one day at Coria, on its
march to Talavera; certain, however, it is, that one day’s rest at
Santarem instead of two, and one day’s rest at Castello Branco instead
of two, would have brought a reinforcement of more than three thousand
light troops to Sir Arthur Wellesley, before the bloody battle of the
28th; and that such an addition to his force would have been highly
acceptable, particularly as he was deficient in the number of his light
troops. Could General Crawford have foreseen that by those halts his
brigade would have arrived a _few hours too late_ at Talavera, I feel
thoroughly convinced that he would have pushed on, _pêle-mêle_, without
a single halt between Santarem and the field of battle.
On our arrival at the position, we were immediately sent to occupy some
woods in front, and to take charge of the outposts. Hundreds of wounded
were still on the field; but parties were actively employed in taking
them to the hospitals in the town of Talavera. Very many of the wounded
of both armies who had been so injured as not to be able to crawl back
into their own lines during the battle, were, most unfortunately, burnt
to death by the dry grass and brush-wood catching fire from the
explosion of the shells. A more horrid death can scarcely be imagined.
This occurred on what might properly be termed the _neutral ground_, in
front of the two armies, where the light troops had been engaged, and
when knocked down, could not be carried from the field so long as the
contest continued.
The Spanish army commanded by General Cuesta was strongly posted on the
right of the British, on intersected ground, and took but little share
in the battle; as the game of the French commander evidently was, to
crush and annihilate Sir Arthur Wellesley’s troops with overwhelming
numbers, whilst he contented himself with keeping the Spaniards in check
with a very inferior force. Although the loss of the British was
extremely severe, that of their opponents was infinitely greater; nor
were the sterling qualities of our soldiers on any occasion put more
severely to the test, or the character of the British army more nobly
upheld, than on this bloody and memorable day.
The allied army remained in the position on which it had fought until
the 3d of August, during which time no movement of consequence took
place on its part. The enemy kept a strong rear guard on the Alberchè (a
river flowing into the Tagus near the town of Talavera), which the
cavalry and the light brigade had an eye to.
About the 1st of August Marshal Victor fell back some leagues towards
Toledo. The Spanish cavalry pickets caused frequent false alarms in the
camp, by blazing away in a most unmeaning and useless manner at the
French videttes.
I have but little to relate of occurrences from the day our brigade
joined the army, on the 29th of July, to the 3d of August.