before felt regret at quitting a town in Spain. That morning we marched,
the town was deserted by its inhabitants, who accompanied us a good way;
girls weeping and running into the ranks to be protected from their
parents, and hanging upon their old acquaintances; parents tearing away
and scolding their children; soldiers and inhabitants singing or
exchanging adieus. Almost every man had his handkerchief on the muzzle
of his firelock. Don Galves’ children, weeping, took leave of me. I
never saw them again. May God bless them! At length we were left to
reflect upon our absent friends, and commence the toils of war afresh.
We lay in camp until the whole army joined; then were reviewed by Lord
Wellington, and received orders to take the line of march, and follow
the enemy. We marched over a great part of Spain, quite across the
country; many parts of which were very beautiful, more particularly that
before we crossed the Ebro. But we were so harassed by fatigue, in our
long marches, that we never left the camp; and were too weary to pay
much attention to any thing that did not relieve our wants. We continued
to advance until the 20th of June, when, reaching the neighbourhood of
Vittoria, we encamped upon the face of a hill. Provisions were very
scarce. We had not a bit of tobacco, and were smoking leaves and herbs.
Colonel Cadogan rode away and got us half a pound of tobacco a man,
which was most welcome. Next morning we got up as usual. The first piper
played for parade; the second did not play at the usual time. We began
to suspect all was not right. We remained thus until eleven o’clock,
then received orders to fall in and follow the line of march. During our
march we fell to one side, to allow a brigade, of guns to pass us at
full speed. “Now,” said my comrades, “we will have work to do before
night.” We crossed a river, and as we passed through a village, we saw,
on the other side of the road, the French camp, and their fires still
burning just as they had left them. Not a shot had been fired at this
time. We observed a large Spanish column moving along the heights on our
right. We halted and drew up in column. Orders were given to brush out
our locks, oil them, and examine our flints; we being in the rear. These
were soon followed by orders to open out from the centre, to allow the
71st to advance. Forward we moved up the hill. The firing was now very
heavy. Our rear had not engaged before word came for the Doctor to
assist Colonel Cadogan, who was wounded. Immediately we charged up the
hill, the piper playing, “Hey Johnny Cope.” The French had possession of
the top, but we soon forced them back, and drew up in column on the
height; sending out four companies to our left to skirmish. The
remainder moved on to the opposite height. As we advanced, driving them
before us, a French officer, a pretty fellow, was pricking and forcing
his men to stand. They heeded him not,--he was very harsh:--“Down with
him!” cried one near me; and down he fell, pierced by more than one
ball. Scarce were we upon the height, when a heavy column, dressed in
great-coats, with white covers on their hats, exactly resembling the
Spanish, gave us a volley, which put us to the right about at double
quick time down the hill, the French close behind, through the whins.
The four companies got the word, the French were on them. They likewise
thought them Spaniards, until they got a volley that killed or wounded
almost every one of them. We retired to the height covered by the 50th,
who gave the pursuing column a volley which checked their speed. We
moved up the remains of our shattered regiment to the height. Being in
great want of ammunition, we were again served with sixty rounds a man,
and kept up our fire for some time, until the bugle sounded to cease
firing. We lay on the height for some time. Our drought was excessive;
there was no water upon the height, save one small spring, which was
rendered useless. One of our men, in the heat of the action, called out
he would have a drink, let the world go as it would. He stooped to
drink; a ball pierced his head--he fell with it in the well, which was
discoloured by brains and blood. Thirsty as we were, we could not taste
it. At this time, the Major had the command, our second Colonel being
wounded. There were not 300 of us on the height able to do duty, out of
above 1000 who drew rations in the morning. The cries of the wounded
were most heart-rending. The French, on the opposite height, were
getting under arms: we could give no assistance, as the enemy appeared
to be six to one of us. Our orders were to maintain the height while
there was a man of us. The word was given to shoulder arms. The French,
at the same moment, got under arms. The engagement began in the plains:
the French were amazed, and soon put to the right about through
Vittoria. We followed as quick as our weary limbs would carry us. Our
legs were full of thorns, and our feet bruised upon the roots of the
trees. Coming to a bean field at the bottom of the heights, immediately
the column was broke, and every man filled his haversack. We continued
to advance until it was dark, and then encamped on a height above
Vittoria. This was the dullest encampment I ever made. We had left 700
men behind,--none spoke--each hung his head, mourning the loss of a
friend and comrade. About twelve o’clock, a man of each company was sent
to receive half a pound of flour for each man, at the rate of our
morning’s strength; so that there was more than could be used by those
who had escaped. I had fired 108 rounds this day. Next morning we awoke,
dull, stiff, and weary. I could scarce touch my head with my right
hand--my shoulder was as black as, coal. We washed out our firelocks,
and moved on again about twelve o’clock in the line of march.
Towards the afternoon of 22d, the day after the battle of Vittoria, a
great number of our men joined, who had made their escape, after being
taken the day before. We encamped and passed a night of congratulation;
mutual hardships made us all brothers. The slain were forgot in our joy
for those we had gained thus unexpectedly. Next morning, we made a more
respectable appearance on parade, being now about 800 strong. The day
following we continued our march. In the afternoon, we had a dreadful
storm of thunder and rain. A Portuguese officer and his horse were
killed by it. We encamped upon the face of a hill, the rain continuing
to pour. The storm not abating, we could not get our tents up, and were
exposed all night to its violence.
Next day we arrived before Pamplona, where we lay for some time. One
night we were ordered under arms at twelve o’clock; the report was, that
Pamplona was to be stormed. We marched until day-break, then drew up in
a hollow in the rear of the town, when we got orders to fall back to our
old camp ground. Soon after we were relieved by a division of Spanish,
and marched towards the Pyrenees, where we soon fell in with our old
play-fellows the French, and had a very severe skirmish in the front of
the village of Maya. The regiment was divided into two columns; the
right commanded by Major Walker, the left by Major M‘Kenzie. We remained
under arms all night, the French keeping up their fire. Next morning we
forced them over the heights, into their own country, in style; then
encamped. Fatigue parties were called to make rows and rain-works. Our
two rear companies were appointed to move to the heights in the rear,
upon the first alarm, and maintain them while a man should remain. The
signal was three great guns; on the report of the first of which every
man was to stand to his arms. One day we sent out a fatigue party, to
cut wood to make arm-racks. They were not come back when a gun was
fired. We stood to our arms, making ready to engage. It was a false
alarm. Our fatigue parties were out for forage, and we were busy
cooking, when the signal was given on the 25th July. The two rear
companies, moved to the heights, the rest of the regiment to the alarm
post, where we had work enough upon our arrival. The French were in
great force, moving up the heights in solid column. We killed great
numbers of them in their advance; but they still moved on. We were
forced to give way, and continued thus to retire, maintaining every
height to the last, contesting every foot of ground. At length we were
forced to the height where our old quarter-guard used to be posted. We
maintained our position against them a considerable time; during which,
we had the mortification to see the French making merry in our camp,
eating the dinner we had cooked for ourselves. What could we do? they
were so much superior in numbers.
I have often admired the bravery of the French officers. This day, while
I was in the rear-guard, covering the retreat, about two dozen of us
were pursued and molested by a company of the French. Out of breath, and
unable to run farther, we cried, “Let us make a stand and get breath,
else we will never reach the top.” “Take your will,” returned the
officers. Immediately we faced about--the French halted--their officers
pricked them on. We formed front, across the road, and charged;--the
French officers in the rear, urging their troops forward. All would not
do--the men forced their officers fairly over the hill and ran. We had
what we wished--an unmolested retreat--and moved slowly up the height.
We were then joined by a brigade of Brunswickers,--gave three cheers,
and charged the French along the heights, keeping up our fire till dark.
A part of the regiment made fires, while the remainder kept their ground
upon the main height, until about twelve o’clock. We then marched off
towards the Black Forest, leaving our wounded, whose cries were
piercing; but we could not help them. Numbers continued to follow us,
crawling on their hands and knees, filling the air with their groans.
Many, who could not do so, held out their hands, supplicating to be
taken with us. We tore ourselves away, and hurried to get out of sight.
We could not bear it.
The roads were very bad, the rain continued to pour, and we made but
little way. At day-break we formed on the outside of Maya, and got
orders to cook; but scarce had we begun when the French made their
appearance. We immediately moved on to a stronger height on the opposite
side, and encamped. Here we got three days’ allowance of beef and bread
served out to each man, and an allowance of liquor. As soon as cooking
was over, we marched on to the Black Forest, and never halted, until two
o’clock in the morning. The night was dark and stormy. The wounded
officers were carried in blankets on the shoulders of the men, and the
wounded soldiers, who had been enabled still to keep up with us, made
the heart bleed at their cries; while the forcing up of the baggage
caused such a noise, that the whole was a scene of misery and
confusion. We halted to allow the baggage to get forward. Shortly after
day-light the French advance came up with our rear-guard, consisting of
a brigade of Portuguese, which continued to skirmish all the way through
the forest. We lost a great number of men in this forest, unable to keep
up through illness and fatigue, and not a few from the effects of
liquor. It was found necessary to stave the stores of liquor; and the
men were carrying it away in their bonnets. Many were intoxicated, and
carried upon the shoulders of their comrades. We at length got out of
the forest and encamped. Picquets were posted, and we began to cook; but
we had scarcely commenced when the French were again upon us. The camp
was moved, and we marched until two hours after dark. We were then drawn
up in column, and lay down on the bare ground until next morning. The
French moved about two miles, and then turned off on their left towards
Pamplona, thinking there was nothing to stop them. We remained here
until morning: day was scarce broke when we heard three guns fired
towards our right. All were under arms in a moment, and we stood in this
situation a considerable time. The noise of artillery and musketry was
incessant on our right, but towards the afternoon the firing ceased, and
the French were forced from the heights opposite Pamplona. After Lord
Wellington had defeated them, they retreated by our right. We got orders
to occupy a height in the wood. Two companies were sent at extended
order down the wood, where we were not long before the enemy began to
appear; and the firing commenced with their skirmishers. After doing
our utmost for some time, we were forced to retire to the top of the
height; and, when we arrived upon it, they were so numerous, it was vain
to contend. We gave them two or three volleys, and retired through a
small village, they following close in the rear. Then we drew up along
the side of a strong rock, close by the main road, determined to defend
it to the last. Lord Wellington sent a division to our assistance. The
enemy seeing them approach, drew up and continued to annoy us for some
time; then fell back upon the village and encamped. There were some fine
fields of grain here, which they set fire to. We lay down fatigued and
weary, having been constantly engaged almost the whole afternoon. Next
morning, the 5th of August, the enemy began to retire, we following
close at their heels through the Black Forest. They retired back into
France. We halted upon our old camp ground for the space of half an
hour, and then returned to our old quarters at Maya. We were very
melancholy, the whole bringing to our minds the time when we last left
it, and our wounded and dying comrades. After encamping on a height on
the other side for two or three days, we were marched round to the
heights of Roncesvalles, where we encamped, relieving a brigade of the
7th division. We lay here for a considerable time, working like galley
slaves, from morning till evening, in building batteries and
blockhouses. All the time I had been a soldier, my labour could not
stand in the least comparison with my fatigues at this time. Orders were
given that the heights should be kept by the 3d and 4th division, week
about, (_alternately_.) We retired, moving down, and encamped on the
other side of the village. A short time afterwards, we got orders for
duty on the heights on the opposite side,--of which we were glad,
thinking that the work would not be so severe. But we were disagreeably
undeceived. Our labour was incessant; every day we were either on guard
or on fatigue. All the time we remained here, we were not a night in bed
out of two: besides, the weather was dreadful; we had always either snow
or hail, the hail often as large as nuts. We were forced to put our
knapsacks on our heads, to protect us from its violence. The mules, at
these times, used to run crying up and down, hurt by the stones. The
frost was most severe, accompanied by high winds. Often, for whole days
and nights, we could not get a tent to stand. Many of us were
frost-bitten, and others were found dead at their posts. At this time I
cursed my hard fate, and groaned over my folly. Frequently have I been
awakened, through the night, by the sobs of those around me in the tent;
more especially, by the young soldiers, who had not been long from their
mothers’ fire-sides. They often spent the darkness of the night in
tears. The weather was so dreadful, the 92d regiment got grey trousers
served out to them; they could not live with their kilts,--the cold
would have killed them. In about two days after we went down to the
valley, the day being good, the French came down from the heights
nearest France. General Stewart being there at the same time with our
advanced post, and seeing their manœuvres, ordered us to advance
towards them. We soon beat them back, and retired to our post. A few
days afterwards, the weather was so very bad, that great numbers of the
men fell sick. We were then forced to leave the heights and encamp in
the valley, leaving strong picquets in the block-houses on the main
pass, which were relieved daily. Fatigue parties were sent up to work,
nevertheless, every day the weather would permit. At this time we buried
two guns of Captain Mitchell’s brigade of artillery, which displeased
him much. Through intercession, General Stewart ordered up a fatigue
party to raise them again. We were covered by the picquets, and, with
great difficulty, at length got them raised and brought down to the
valley. Each man on fatigue got an extra allowance of grog, the only
welcome recompence.
We lay here for some time, frequently attacked in the block-houses by
the French, and at length received orders to leave our purgatory in the
heights, and move round towards Maya. We marched that whole afternoon
and all night, until next morning; when the whole army formed on the
other side of Maya. We were appointed the brigade of reserve, being far
in the rear and very much fatigued. An attack was begun, almost as soon
as we arrived. We moved towards the enemy’s works, which were very
strong; but we forced them out, then moved round to our own right, the
remainder of the army pursuing them. Their camp-ground, which was hutted
like a little town, was occupied by us during the night.
November 10.--We, next morning, continued to move to our own right until
we came to a village called Cambo, on the outside of which the enemy had
batteries planted, and strong works. We kept up a severe fire for some
time, but could not storm their works on account of the depth of the
entrenchments. They found out that the Spanish troops, under Morillo,
were fording the river on their right. We retired back into camp, and
lay there two days: the weather was so bad we could not move out.
On the afternoon they blew up the bridge over the Nive, and retired out
of the town. We then marched into it and were cantoned, and lay there
for a considerable time, the French on one side and we on the other; our
sentinel and their’s, on the bridge, not five yards asunder. The night
before we crossed, the French came down to the banks of the river, with
their music, and gave us a tune or two. We thought to change their tune
before next night. We were then to be all under arms at a minute’s
notice. About nine o’clock, the whole of our in-lying picquets were
called to cover a party of sappers and miners, in raising a battery to
cover our fording ground; and the sentinel on the broken bridge received
orders to shoot the French sentinel, on the first gun for alarm being
fired. Both were walking from one parapet to another,--the Frenchman
unconscious of any unusual danger,--the English sentinel listening, and
often looking to the victim; his heart revolting from the deed he dared
not disobey. The match touched the signal gun; next moment the French
sentinel fell into the river, pierced by a ball. As soon as the sappers
and miners had constructed the battery, we moved back into the town, and
remained until an hour before day. We were drawn up on our fording
ground;--orders were given that not a man should speak above his breath.
The whole being prepared,--the word was given to pass the river when
three guns were fired on our left. Our right wing was sent out to cover
the fording. The left forded the river; but we had not reached the
opposite bank, when we received a volley from the enemy’s picquets. We
gave three cheers,--splashed through the water; they retired, and we
pursued them. The regiment formed upon the top of the height, sending
out two companies to follow the enemy close; but they never came up with
them.
All the night of the 11th of December, we lay in camp upon the face of a
height near the Spaniards. In the afternoon of the 12th, we received
orders to move round towards Bayonne, where we were quartered along the
main road. There we remained a few days, until we received orders to
march to our own right to assist a Spanish force who were engaged with
superior numbers. We set off by day-light, in the morning of the 13th,
towards them, and were moving on when General Hill sent an aid-de-camp
after us, saying, “That is not the direction,--follow me.” We put to the
right-about, to the main road towards Bayonne. We soon came to the scene
of action, and were immediately engaged. We had continued firing,
without intermission, for five hours, advancing and retreating, and lost
a great number of men, but could not gain a bit of ground. Towards
evening we were relieved by a brigade which belonged to another
division. As many of us as could be collected were drawn up. General
Hill gave us great praise for our behaviour this day, and ordered an
extra allowance of liquor to each man. We were marched back to our old
quarters along the road side. The day’s service had been very severe,
but now I took it with the coolest indifference; I felt no alarm; it was
all of course. I began to think my body charmed. My mind had come to
that pass--I took every thing as it came without a thought. If I was at
ease, with plenty, I was happy: If in the midst of the enemy’s fire, or
of the greatest privations, I was not concerned. I had been in so many
changes of plenty and want, ease and danger, they had ceased to be
anticipated either with joy or fear.
We lay upon the road-side for two or three days, having two companies,
three leagues to the rear, carrying the wounded to the hospital. We were
next cantoned three leagues above Bayonne, along the side of the river.
We had strong picquets planted along the banks. The French were cantoned
upon the other side. Never a night passed that we were not molested by
boats passing up and down the river with provisions and necessaries to
the town. Our orders were to turn out, and keep up a constant fire upon
them while passing. We had two grasshopper guns planted upon the side of
the river, by means of which we one night sunk a boat loaded with
clothing for the army, setting it on fire with red hot shot. Next day we
were encamped in the rear of the town, being relieved by a brigade of
Portuguese. We remained in camp two or three days, expecting to be
attacked, the enemy having crossed above us on the river. We posted
picquets in the town near our camp. At length receiving orders to march,
we moved on until we came to a river on our right, which ran very swift.
Part of the regiment having crossed, we got orders to come to the
right-about, and were marched back to our old camp ground. Next morning
we received orders to take another road towards Salvatero, where we
encamped that night, and remained until the whole army assembled the
following day. About two o’clock in the afternoon we were under arms,
and moved towards the river, covered by a brigade of artillery. We
forded, and continued to skirmish alongst the heights until the town was
taken. We lost only one man during the whole time. We encamped upon the
other side of the town; and next morning, followed the line of march,
until we came before a town called Aris. We had severe fighting before
we got into it. We were led on by an aid-de-camp. The contest lasted
until after dark. We planted picquets in different streets of the town;
the enemy did the same in others. Different patroles were sent out,
during the night; but the French were always found on the alert. They
retired before day-light; and we marched into the town, with our music
at the head of the regiments. The town appeared then quite desolate, not
worth twopence; but we were not three days in it until the French
inhabitants came back, opened their shops and houses, and it became a
fine lively place. There was a good deal of plundering the first night;
for the soldiers going into the houses, and finding no person within,
helped themselves. The people have a way of keeping their fowls in cans,
full of grease, about the size of a hen. This we found out by accident;
for, wanting some grease to fry in cooking, we took one of these cans,
and cut out the fowl. We commenced a search for the grease cans, and
were very successful. The fowls were excellent. We lay here a
considerable time, then were marched towards Toulouse, and halted at a
village four leagues from it, with orders to turn out on a moment’s
notice. We were drawn out at twelve o’clock at night, and marched close
up to the town, designing to throw a bridge over the river; but it ran
so swift, that we failed in our attempt. We then kindled fires in all
quarters, and returned to the village. Next morning we marched round
towards the main road to Toulouse, and were cantoned along the road. We
lay here for some time, and were, every morning, under arms an hour
before day. At length, on the 10th of April, we received orders to
attack Toulouse, and moved on by another road, on the opposite side from
the one we had lain upon. We were drawn up in column, in rear of a
house, and remained there for some time, sending out the flank
companies to skirmish; and, at length, forced the enemy back upon their
works. The contest now began to be more severe. A brigade of guns coming
up, played upon their works for some time, and then retired, night
coming on. We were posted in the different streets of the suburbs, to
watch the enemy’s motions. At last we got our allowance of liquor served
out, and retired to our cantonment.