my sensations at the first sight of the ocean? I felt all my former
despondency drop from my mind. My galled feet trode lighter on the icy
road. Every face near me seemed to brighten up. Britain and the Sea are
two words which cannot be disunited. The sea and home appeared one and
the same. We were not cast down at there being no transports or ships of
war there. They had been ordered to Vigo, but they were hourly expected.
On the 13th, the French made their appearance on the opposite side of
the river Mero. They took up a position near a village, called Perillo,
on the left flank, and occupied the houses along the river. We could
perceive their numbers hourly increasing. On the 14th, they commenced a
cannonade on our position; but our artillery soon forced them to
withdraw their guns, and fall back. On this day, our friends the tars
made their appearance, and all was bustle, preparing for embarkation.
The whole artillery was embarked, save seven six-pounders and one
howitzer, which were placed in line, and four Spanish guns, which were
kept as a reserve. Our position was such, that we could not use many
guns. The sick and dismounted cavalry were sent on board with all
expedition. I supported my friend Donald, who was now very weak, and
almost blind. On my return to the camp, I witnessed a most moving scene.
The beach was covered with dead horses, and resounded with the reports
of the pistols that were carrying this havoc amongst them. The animals,
as if warned by the dead bodies of their fellows, appeared frantic,
neighed and screamed in the most frightful manner. Many broke loose and
galloped alongst the beach, with their manes erect, and their mouths
wide open.
Our preparations continued until the 16th, when every thing was
completed; and we were to begin our embarkation at four o’clock. About
mid-day, we were all under arms, when intelligence arrived that the
French were advancing. We soon perceived them pouring down upon our
right wing: our advanced picquets had commenced firing. The right had a
bad position, yet if we lost it, our ruin was inevitable. Lord William
Bentinck’s brigade, composed of the 4th, 42d, and 50th, had the honour
of sustaining it against every effort of the French, although the latter
had every advantage in numbers and artillery. They commenced a heavy
fire, from eleven great guns, placed in a most favourable manner on the
hill. Two strong columns advanced on the right wing, the one along the
road, the other skirting its edges; a third advanced on the centre; a
fourth approached slowly on the left; while a fifth remained half way
down the hill, in the same direction, to take advantage of the first
favourable moment. It was at this time that Sir David Baird had his arm
shattered. The space between the two lines was much intercepted by stone
walls and hedges. It was perceived by Sir John Moore, as the two lines
closed, that the French extended a considerable way beyond the right
flank of the British, and a strong body of them were seen advancing up
the valley. To turn it, one-half of the fourth was ordered to fall back,
and form an obtuse angle with the other half. This was done as correctly
as could be wished, and a severe flanking fire commenced upon the
advancing French. The 50th, after climbing over an enclosure, got right
in front of the French, charged, and drove them out of the village
Elvina. In this charge, they lost Major Napier, who was wounded and made
prisoner. Major Stanhope was mortally wounded. Sir John was at the head
of every charge. Every thing was done under his own eye. “Remember
Egypt!” said he, and the 42d drove all before them, as the gallant 50th
had done. The Guards were ordered to their support. Their ammunition
being all spent through some mistake, they were falling back:
“Ammunition is coming, you have your bayonets,” said Sir John. This was
enough; onwards they rushed, overturning every thing. The enemy kept up
their hottest fire upon the spot where they were. It was at this moment
Sir John received his death wound. He was borne off the field by six
soldiers of the 42d, and the Guards. We now advanced to the support of
the right, led by Lord Paget. Colonel Beckwith, with the rifle corps,
pushed all before him, and nearly took one of their cannon; but a very
superior column forced him to retire. Lord Paget, however, repulsed this
column, and dispersed every thing before him: when the left wing of the
French being quite exposed, they withdrew and attacked our centre, under
Mannington and Leith; but this position being good, they were easily
repulsed. They likewise failed in every attempt on our left. A
body of them had got possession of a village on the road to Betanzos,
and continued to fire under cover of it, till dislodged by
Lieutenant-Colonel Nicolls.--Shortly after this, night put a period to
the battle of Corunna. At ten o’clock, General Hope ordered the army to
march off the field by brigades, leaving strong picquets to guard the
embarkation. I remained in the rear guard, commanded by Major General
Beresford, occupying the lines in front of Corunna. We had made great
fires, and a few of the freshest of our men were left to keep them up,
and run round them to deceive the enemy. At dawn there was little to
embark, save the rear-guard, and the reserve, commanded by Major-General
Hill, who had occupied a promontory behind Corunna. We were scarcely
arrived on the beach, ere the French began to fire upon the transports
in the harbour, from the heights of St. Lucia. Then all became a scene
of confusion. Several of the masters of the transports cut their cables.
Four of the transports ran ashore. Not having time to get them off, we
were forced to burn them. The ships of war soon silenced the French
guns, and we saw no more of them. There was no regularity in our taking
the boats. The transport that I got to, had part of seven regiments on
board.
The Spaniards are a courageous people: the women waved their
handkerchiefs to us from the rocks, whilst the men manned the batteries
against the French, to cover our embarkation. Unmindful of themselves,
they braved a superior enemy to assist a friend who was unable to afford
them further relief,--whom they had no prospect of ever seeing again.
Secure within the wooden walls, bad as our condition was, I felt
comparatively happy in being so fortunate as to be on board the same
vessel with Donald. In relieving his wants, I felt less my own, and was
less teased by the wit and ribaldry of my fellow-sufferers; who, now
that they were regularly served with provisions, and exempt from the
fatigues of marching and the miseries of cold, were as happy in their
rags and full bellies as any men in England.
For two days after we came on board, I felt the most severe pains
through my whole body: the change was so great from the extreme cold of
the winter nights, which we had passed almost without covering, to the
suffocating heat of a crowded transport. This was not the most
disagreeable part: vermin began to abound; we had not been without them
in our march, but now we had dozens for one we had then. In vain we
killed them, they appeared to increase from the ragged and dirty
clothes, of which we had no means of freeing ourselves. Complaint was
vain. Many were worse than myself; I had escaped without a wound, and,
thank God! though I had not a shirt upon my back, I had my health,
after the two first days, as well as ever I had it.
On the morning of the tenth day after our embarkation, I was condoling
with Donald, who was now quite blind. “I will never be a soldier again,
O Thomas! I will be nothing but Donald the blind man. Had I been
killed,--if you had left me to die in Spain,--it would have been far
better to have lain still in a wreath of snow, than be, all my life, a
blind beggar, a burden on my friends. Oh! if it would please God to take
my life from me!"--“Land a-head! Old England once again!” was called
from mouth to mouth. Donald burst into tears: “I shall never see
Scotland again; it is me that is the poor dark man!” A hundred ideas
rushed upon my mind, and overcame me. Donald clasped me to his breast:
our tears flowed uninterrupted.
We anchored that same day at Plymouth, but were not allowed to land; our
Colonel kept us on board until we got new clothing. Upon our landing,
the people came round us, showing all manner of kindness, carrying the
lame and leading the blind. We were received into every house as if we
had been their own relations. How proud did I feel to belong to such a
people!
We were marched to Ashford barracks, in the County of Kent, where we
remained from the month of February, 1809, until we were marched to
Gosport camp, where the army was forming for a secret expedition. During
the five weeks we lay in camp, Donald joined us in good health and
spirits. All the time I lay at Ashford, I had letters regularly from my
mother, which whiled away the time.
We sailed from the Downs on the 28th of July, and reached Flushing in
thirty hours, where we landed without opposition. Our regiment was the
first that disembarked. We were brigaded, alongst with the 68th and 85th
regiments, under the command of Major-General De Rollenburgh. Here,
again, as in South America, I was forced to work in the trenches, in
forming the batteries against Flushing. On the night of the 7th of
August, the French sallied out upon our works, but were quickly forced
back with great loss. They were so drunk, many of them, that they could
not defend themselves; neither could they run away: we, in fact, gave up
the pursuit, our hearts would not allow us to kill such helpless
wretches, a number of whom could not even ask for mercy.
On the evening of the 10th, we had a dreadful storm of thunder and rain.
At the same time the French Governor opened the sluices, and broke down
the sea dikes, when the water poured in upon us, and we were forced to
leave the trenches. However, on the 13th, in the evening, we commenced a
dreadful fire upon the town, from the batteries and vessels in the
harbour, which threw bombs and rockets on one side, whilst the batteries
plyed them with round-shot on the other. I was stunned and bewildered by
the noise; the bursting of bombs and falling of chimneys, all adding to
the incessant roar of the artillery. The smoke of the burning houses and
guns, formed, altogether, a scene not to be remembered but with horror,
which was increased, at every cessation from firing, (which was very
short,) by the piercing shrieks of the inhabitants, the wailings of
distress, and howling of dogs. The impression was such as can never be
effaced. After night fell, the firing ceased, save from the mortar
batteries; the noise was not so dreadful; the eye was now the sense that
conveyed horror to the mind; the enemy had set fire to Old Flushing,
whilst the New Town was kept burning by the shells and rockets. The dark
flare of the burning, the reflection on the water and sky, made all the
space, as far as the eye could reach, appear an abyss of fire. The faint
tracks of the bombs, and luminous train of the rockets, darting towards
and falling into the flames, conveyed an idea to my mind so appalling,
that I turned away and shuddered.
This night our regiment was advanced a good way in front, upon a sea
dike, through which the enemy had made a cut to let the water in upon
our works. Towards midnight, when the tide was ebb, Colonel Pack made a
sally into one of the enemy’s batteries. We crossed the cut in silence;
Colonel Pack entered first, and struck off the sentinel’s head at one
blow. We spiked their guns, after a severe brush. At the commencement,
as I leaped into the works, an officer seized my firelock before I could
recover my balance, and was in the act to cut me down; the sword was
descending, when the push of a bayonet forced him to the ground: It was
Donald, who fell upon us both. I extricated myself as soon as possible,
rose and fell to work; there was no time to congratulate. The enemy had
commenced a heavy fire upon us, and we were forced to retire with forty
prisoners. We lost a great number of men, killed, wounded, and missing.
Donald was amongst the latter, but joined in the morning.
Next morning, Monnet surrendered, and we marched into Flushing, scarce a
house of which had escaped; all was a scene of death and desolation. The
wet and fatigue of the last few days had made me ill. I was scarce able
to stand, yet I did not report myself sick. I thought it would wear off.
Next night I was upon guard: the night was clear and chill; a thin white
vapour seemed to extend around as far as I could see; the only part free
from it were the sand heights. It covered the low place where we lay,
and was such as you see early in the morning before the sun is risen,
but more dense. I felt very uncomfortable in it; my two hours I thought
never would expire; I could not breathe with freedom. Next morning, I
was in a burning fever at times, at other times trembling and chilled
with cold; I was unfit to rise or walk upon my feet. The surgeon told me
I had taken the country disorder. I was sent to the hospital; my disease
was the same as that of which hundreds were dying. My spirits never left
me; a ray of hope would break in upon me the moment I got ease between
the attacks of this most severe malady.
I was sent, with many others, to Braeburnlees, where I remained eight
weeks ill--very ill indeed. All the time I was in the hospital, my soul
was oppressed by the distresses of my fellow-sufferers, and shocked at
the conduct of the hospital men. Often have I seen them fighting over
the expiring bodies of the patients, their eyes not yet closed in death,
for articles of apparel that two had seized at once, cursing and oaths
mingling with the dying groans and prayers of the poor sufferers. How
dreadful to think, as they were carried from each side of me, it might
be my turn next! There was none to comfort, none to give a drink of
water with a pleasant countenance. I had now time to reflect with
bitterness on my past conduct; here I learned the value of a parent’s
kindness. I had been unable to write since my illness, and I longed to
tell my mother where I was, that I might hear from her. I crawled along
the wall of the hospital to the door, to see if I could find one more
convalescent than myself, to bring me paper. I could not trust the
hospital men with the money. To see the face of heaven, and breathe the
pure air, was a great inducement to this difficult exertion. I feebly,
and with anxious joy, pushed up the door: horrid moment! dreadful sight!
Donald lay upon the barrow, at the stair-head, to be carried to the
dead-room; his face was uncovered, and part of his body naked. The light
forsook my eyes, I became dreadfully sick, and fell upon the body. When
I recovered again, there was a vacancy of thought and incoherence of
ideas, that remained with me for some time; and it was long before I
could open a door without feeling an unpleasant sensation. When I became
convalescent, I soon recovered my wonted health; the regiment arrived at
Braeburnlees upon Christmas day, and I commenced my duties as a soldier.
By the death of Donald, I had again become a solitary individual, nor
did I again form a friendship while we lay here, which was until May,
1810; at which time we got the route for Deal. We remained there until
the month of September, when an order came for a draught of 600 men for
service in Portugal, of which number I was one.
* * * * *
There were six companies of 100 men each, embarked in two frigates, 300
in each. I was on board the Melpomene. During the six days’ sail to
Lisbon, my thoughts were not the most agreeable. I was on my way to that
country in which I had already suffered so much. My health was good, but
my spirits were very low; I could not yet bring myself to associate with
the other men, so as to feel pleasure in their amusements. I found it
necessary to humour them in many things, and be obliging to all. I was
still called saucy, and little courted by my comrades to join them. I
had changed my bed-fellow more than once, they not liking my dry manner,
as they called it. On the seventh day after leaving Deal, we were
landed at Blackhorse Square, Lisbon, amidst the shouts of the
inhabitants. We were marched to the top of the town, and billeted in a
convent. A good many were billeted in the town, the convent being not
large enough to contain us. I was billeted upon a cook-shop. Two years
before, while encamped before Lisbon, I had often wished to enter the
town; now, I as ardently wished to leave it. I was sickened every hour
of the day with the smell of garlic and oil; every thing there is fried
in oil that will fry. Oil and garlic is their universal relish.
Cleanliness they have not the least conception of. The town is a
dunghill from end to end; their principal squares are not even free from
heaps of filth. You may make a shift to walk by the side of the streets
with clean shoes, but cross one if you dare. I inquired at one of our
regiment, who had been left sick, if they had any scavengers? “Yes,”
said he, “they have one.” “He will have a great many under him?” “None.”
“What folly, to have only one to such a city!” “And that one only when
he may please to come.” “You joke with me.” “No, I don’t; the rain is
their street-cleaner; he will be here soon, there will be clean streets
while he remains; then they prepare work for him again.”
To my great joy, we paraded in the grand square, on the seventh day
after arrival, and marched in sections to the music of our bugles, to
join the army, having got our camp equipments, consisting of a
camp-kettle and bill-hook to every six men, a blanket, a canteen and
haversack, to each man. Orders had been given that each soldier, on his
march, should carry alongst with him three days’ provision. Our mess of
six, cast lots who should be cook the first day, as we were to carry the
kettle day about; the lot fell to me. My knapsack contained two shirts,
two pair of stockings, one pair overalls, two shoebrushes, a
shaving-box, one pair spare shoes, and a few other articles; my
greatcoat and blanket above the knapsack: my canteen with water was
slung over my shoulder, on one side; my haversack with beef and bread,
on the other; sixty round of ball cartridge, and the camp-kettle above
all.
I was now well broke down by what I had been in my first campaign with
Moore. How different was Tom marching to school with his satchel on his
back, from Tom with his musket and kitt[6], a private soldier, an atom
of an army, unheeded by all, his comforts sacrificed to ambition, his
untimely death talked of with indifference, and only counted in the
gross with hundreds, without a sigh.
We halted on the first night at a palace belonging to the Queen of
Portugal, called Safrea, where we were joined by the Honourable Henry
Cadogan, our Colonel. Next day, the 14th October, 1810, we joined the
army at Sabral de Monte Agraco, a small town surrounded by hills. On the
front is a hill, called by our men Windmill Hill, from a number of
windmills which were upon it; in the rear, another they called Gallows
Hill, from a gibbet standing there. We had not been three hours in the
town, and were busy cooking, when the alarm sounded. There were nine
British, and three Portuguese regiments in the town. We were all drawn
up, and remained under arms, expecting every moment to receive the
enemy, whose skirmishers covered Windmill Hill. In about an hour, the
light companies of all the regiments were ordered out, alongst with the
71st. Colonel Cadogan called to us, at the foot of the hill, “My lads,
this is the first affair I have ever been in with you; show me what you
can do, now or never.” We gave a hurra, and advanced up the hill,
driving their advanced skirmishers before us, until about half-way up,
when we commenced a heavy fire, and were as hotly received. In the mean
time, the remaining regiments evacuated the town. The enemy pressed so
hard upon us, we were forced to make the best of our way down the hill,
and were closely followed by the French, through the town, up Gallows
Hill. We got behind a mud wall, and kept our ground in spite of their
utmost efforts. Here we lay upon our arms all night. Next morning, by
day-break, there was not a Frenchman to be seen. As soon as the sun was
fairly up, we advanced into the town, and began a search for provisions,
which were now become very scarce; and, to our great joy, found a large
store-house full of dry fish, flour, rice, and sugar, besides bales of
cloth. All now became bustle and mirth; fires were kindled, and every
man became a cook. Scones[7] were the order of the day. Neither flour
nor sugar were wanting, and the water was plenty; so I fell to bake
myself a flour scone. Mine was mixed and laid upon the fire, and I,
hungry enough, watching it. Though neither neat nor comely, I was
anticipating the moment when it would be eatable. Scarce was it warm,
ere the bugle sounded to arms. Then was the joy that reigned a moment
before turned to execrations. I snatched my scone off the fire, raw as
it was, put it into my haversack, and formed. We remained under arms
until dark; and then took up our old quarters upon Gallows Hill, where I
ate my raw scone, sweetly seasoned by hunger. In our advance to the
town, we were much entertained by some of our men, who had got over a
wall, the day before, when the enemy were in the rear, and now were put
to their shifts to get over again, and scarce could make it out.
Next morning, the French advanced to a mud wall, about forty yards in
front of the one we lay behind. It rained heavily this day, and there
was very little firing. During the night, we received orders to cover
the bugle and tartans of our bonnets with black crape, which had been
served out to us during the day, and to put on our great-coats. Next
morning, the French seeing us thus, thought we had retired, and left
Portuguese to guard the heights. With dreadful shouts, they leaped over
that wall before which they had stood, when guarded by British. We were
scarce able to withstand their fury. To retreat was impossible; all
behind being ploughed land, rendered deep by the rain. There was not a
moment to hesitate. To it we fell pell-mell, French and British mixed
together. It was a trial of strength in single combat; every man had his
opponent, many had two. I got one up to the wall on the point of my
bayonet. He was unhurt; I would have spared him, but he would not spare
himself. He cursed and defied me, nor ceased to attack my life, until he
fell, pierced by my bayonet; his breath died away in a curse and menace.
This was the work of a moment: I was compelled to this extremity. I was
again attacked, but my antagonist fell, pierced by a random shot. We
soon forced them to retire over the wall, cursing their mistake. At this
moment I stood gasping for breath, not a shoe on my feet; my bonnet had
fallen to the ground. Unmindful of my situation, I followed the enemy
over the wall. We pursued them about a mile, and then fell back to the
scene of our struggle. It was covered with dead and wounded, bonnets and
shoes trampled and stuck in the mud. I recovered a pair of shoes:
whether they had been mine or not I cannot tell; they were good. Here I
first got any plunder. A French soldier lay upon the ground dead; he had
fallen backwards; his hat had fallen off his head, which was kept up by
his knapsack. I struck the hat with my foot, and felt it rattle; seized
it in a moment, and in the lining found a gold watch and silver
crucifix. I kept them; as I had as good a right to them as any other.
Yet they were not valuable in my estimation. At this time, life was held
by so uncertain a tenure, and my comforts were so scanty, that I would
have given the watch for a good meal and a dry shirt. There was not a
dry stitch on my back at the time, nor for the next two days.