The army leave Badajos on the 11th of April, and move into
quarters near the river Agueda, where they remain till the 11th
of June--Advance towards Salamanca, which, with the exception
of three forts, the enemy had evacuated--The forts
invested--The main bodies of both armies bivouack within a mile
and a half of each other, in the vicinity of Monte Rubio and
Morisco--The forts of Salamanca surrender--The main body of the
enemy retire to Tordesillas--Movements of the army.
On the 11th April we left Badajos to return again to the neighbourhood
of Rodrigo, the French having, during the absence of our army from that
frontier, made an irruption into Portugal, and penetrated as far down as
below Castello Branca, completely ravaging the country. Our first march
was to Campa Mayor, where we were quartered in the town. We next day
reached Arronches, where we bivouacked in a wood near it. The following
day we marched into Portalegre, and on the 14th, Niza; the 15th we
crossed the Tagus at Villa Velha, and moved on to Larnadas. Here we
began to perceive some of the effects of the recent visit from the
French; but at Castello Branca, which we reached next day, the
devastation they had caused was truly deplorable. We halted here one day
to refresh the troops and get forward our supplies, and the next day
reached Escallas da Cima. Here we began to get very close upon the rear
of the enemy; it therefore became us to move forward with
circumspection, for our force on this side the Tagus was yet but small.
We advanced, however, and occupied successively St Miguel d'Arch,
Penamacor, and St Bartholomo, near Sabugal, which last town we passed
through on the 23d, and bivouacked that night at Alfyates. The utter
desolation of Sabugal was beyond conception; filth and misery presented
themselves in every direction. It had been made a depot for provisions
by the French, I imagine, for on all sides the entrails and other offal
of bullocks and sheep polluted the atmosphere by the abominable stench
they caused, and had attracted multitudes of vultures and other birds of
prey, who had by this time become horribly tame and familiar: one
vulture sat so long upon a dead horse as I was riding along the road,
that he allowed me to come near enough to make a cut at him with my
sword, as he stretched his enormous wings to mount up from his prey.
On the 24th we reached Ituera, where we halted for two days. We had now
entered Spain, and it not being intended as yet to commence another
active campaign, we moved into quarters near the river Agueda, my
battalion and the 43d occupying the village of La Encina, or "The Oak."
Here it was necessary that every exertion should be used to re-equip and
prepare the troops for service, as it was intimated that another
campaign would speedily commence.
All the winter and spring hitherto had been spent in active service,
consequently much required putting to rights before we again took the
field; all hands were therefore employed to patch up and repair our
clothing and shoes, and to get every thing in good order when our
services were again to be called for.
While we were here, I began to experience some of the ill effects of a
deep-rooted enmity which one of my brother officers had conceived
against me, though till now partly concealed. I was unconscious of
having given him any cause for this; but he, without ever giving me any
opportunity for explanation, used all his influence in endeavouring to
injure me in the opinion of two of my superior officers, who had
hitherto been friendly to me; and not only with them, but, I have reason
to believe, with our acting brigadier, whose mind, with the others also,
he completely estranged from me for a time. But though he misled them
then, they did not retain the ill opinion of me which his
misrepresentations had produced, for there are testimonials from all
three at the end of this volume. I was not so fully aware of his dislike
of me, till one day I was dining at the table of our acting brigadier,
when he and one of those before noticed were also guests. I overheard
him telling this officer, (with an intention, I almost imagine, that I
should hear,) that I must be a bad man, for that I was sitting silent
when all the rest were talking, in order that I might listen to their
conversation. But I was the junior officer there, and it did not become
me to be talkative; besides, I never was loquacious. I said nothing,
(although some may blame me for it, but I loved peace,) trusting that
one day such forbearance would not be forgotten; but I felt it deeply,
and mourned over it in secret with great bitterness of spirit.
In this place also I began to receive very pressing letters from the
merchants in England, from whom I had purchased a quantity of goods when
last at home, but which, for want of transport, could not be got up to
the army in order to their being disposed of; and, in short, scarcely a
post arrived that did not bring some unwelcome and distressing tidings.
I had purchased a fine mule in place of that stolen from me at Badajos,
for which I had given about L30. I sent him down to Lisbon with my
batman, to bring up as many of the goods as the mule could carry; but he
had not been long gone till I had the mortification to learn that this
mule also was lost. The man said he had been stolen, but I had every
reason afterwards to believe that he had sold him. Be it observed, I
could but very ill afford losses of this extent out of my pay and scanty
allowances; but I endeavoured to bear up as well as I could against
these misfortunes, although it is certain I was not able to bring
religion to my aid at this time of trial, for I had lived hitherto in
total neglect of that most momentous of all concerns, and, although I
endeavoured to amuse myself occasionally by fishing in the Agueda, my
mind began to be greatly depressed.
About this time an order was issued for each British regiment in the
Peninsula to endeavour to enlist fifty Spaniards to be incorporated in
the regiment. I was sent in company with another officer into the
mountains of Gata, not far from the city of Placentia. We were not
successful, for although we obtained the names of some who promised they
would follow us to La Encina, they never made their appearance. However,
the beauty and magnificence of the mountain scenery amply repaid us for
our trouble. From this village also I had the pleasure of visiting, for
the first time, the lately captured fortress of Ciudad Rodrigo, and some
of my brother officers who had shared in the toils and dangers of the
siege, pointed out to me the most remarkable scenes about it. Like
Badajos, it had been battered till practicable breaches were made to
admit the besiegers, and then stormed in the same manner, but its
defence was feeble compared with Badajos; and yet, to look over the
ground in the neighbourhood of the trenches, one would imagine it
impossible for troops to have lived, so completely was it ploughed up
with shot and shells, each of the latter generally making an excavation
sufficiently large in which to bury a horse.
Whilst we remained in these cantonments, the officers of the division
once or twice got up a sort of "pic-nic," every one contributing
something towards the feast, which was held in a large wood in the
neighbourhood of Ituera. On our way from La Encina to this assembly, we
passed over the ground where the 5th and 77th regiments had so
distinguished themselves in September 1811, against a very superior
force of the enemy's cavalry. The bones of the combatants lay bleaching
upon the plain, the flesh having been very soon devoured by the
innumerable birds of prey, which appeared as if collected from every
part of the Peninsula. Indeed so numerous were the battles and
skirmishes which took place along this frontier, together with the offal
from the animals killed for the use of the armies, that they were no
doubt better fed than they had in general been accustomed to.
But the period of our stay in this vicinity drew to a close, and on the
11th June we broke up from our cantonments, and passing the Agueda, the
division assembled in a wood about a mile or two in front of Rodrigo.
While we were here a rather remarkable phenomenon appeared about
mid-day, or soon after; the sun, which shone most brightly, and the
moon, with several stars, appeared all at the same time, the latter
being distinctly visible. This of course attracted great numbers, and
many were the sage remarks that were made, some believing it ominous of
disastrous events; and indeed very shortly afterwards a circumstance
occurred which in some degree confirmed their prediction. A grenadier of
the 88th regiment (I think it was) had come over from his own division,
to endeavour to prevail upon his wife, who had deserted him and taken up
with a sergeant of our first battalion, to return with him, she having,
as I understand, left him with one or more children, the first of their
marriage, which he was anxious she should come and take care of. They
had often, I fancy, quarrelled, and he had probably used her ill, but he
was now desirous of a reconciliation, and entreated her to return with
him to his regiment. He prevailed upon her to accompany him to some
distance from the bivouack, that they might the more freely discuss the
subject, for she had hitherto refused to agree to his request, being
probably better provided for by the sergeant than she had been with him.
While walking in a field close to the wood in which the bivouack was
situated, and arguing the point with some heat, and she still persisting
in remaining where she was, he became so exasperated at her continued
refusal, that he, in a rage of jealousy and anger, drew his bayonet and
plunged it in her bosom. Her cries soon brought people to the spot, who
at once secured him, and he was instantly committed to the provost
prison tent, and her body of course brought in and buried. Poor
creature! she was one of the gayest of the females which graced our
rural balls near Ituera only a short while previous, and had often
danced with old General Vandaleur on those occasions. I believe he was
not brought to trial for it, as her ill conduct probably had been
considered as in some measure palliating what he did, and that he might
be supposed to have been irritated to a degree of madness when he
perpetrated the fatal act. I subsequently learnt that he was a brave
soldier, and that he afterwards fell in the hard-fought battle of the
Pyrenees.
We moved forward the next day in the direction of Salamanca, halting on
the 13th at Alba de Yeltes, on the 14th at Sancho Bueno, the 15th at
Matillo, in a large plain in front of which we bivouacked, where were
the most luxuriant meadows I think I ever saw, the horses on our arrival
being literally up to their bellies in fine rich grass. What a pity the
natives know nothing of hay-making! This fine herbage is permitted to
stand there till it perishes, and yet in the winter they are frequently
very ill off for provender for their cattle; indeed I do not exactly
know how they contrive to feed them in that season, but I know we were
always greatly put to our shifts to procure any sort of long forage for
our animals, being generally compelled by necessity to resort to this
grass, rotten and dead as it was. I believe they use a considerable
quantity of straw, which they chop very short, and which in truth is no
bad substitute for hay; but when it is so very plentiful and so good,
common sense, one would imagine, would induce them to preserve it.
Lord Wellington in the following season caused a considerable quantity
of hay to be made in Portugal, getting scythes, &c. out from England,
but we never returned that way afterwards to reap the benefit of it. All
this immensely rich and extensive plain is in a complete state of
nature--no enclosures to mark the different boundaries of the
proprietors, should it have any, but where there are "landmarks," the
mode of ancient days is resorted to.
On the 16th we moved forward to within about five miles of Salamanca,
and bivouacked near a range of low hills extending from the Rio Valmuso
(which we had just crossed) to the city. In front of this place our
cavalry fell in with that of the enemy, with whom they had a _petit
affaire_, and had captured a few of them, who, in the afternoon, passed
our bivouack, on their way to the rear. We observed as they passed that
they wore long queues, which had an odd appearance in our eyes, the
British army having for so many years left them off.
Next morning we advanced towards the city. We had gone, I think, about
three miles, when ascending one of those heights over which the road
passes, we had a most interesting view of this beautiful place. It
seemed thickly studded with elegant and highly ornamented spires,
springing from the numerous cathedrals and colleges, &c. which it
contained; but what heightened the effect was an immense column of smoke
rising from some magazines which the enemy (not having time to carry
off) had set on fire. We feared it was but the prelude to the whole city
sharing the same fate, for their barbarous conduct in Portugal during
Massena's retreat, rendered it but too doubtful they were resorting to
the same mode of warfare here. They still retained possession of a
portion of the town, in which they had constructed three forts; one very
strong, and capable of containing about 500 or 600 men; the other two
were smaller, to cover and act as supports to the principal one. In
constructing these works they had destroyed the greater part of the
colleges, and a considerable number of other public buildings, besides
several extensive streets which Salamanca had formerly contained; but
even now it was still a beautiful and interesting city. One of these
works commanded the bridge, which rendered our crossing the Tormes here
impracticable. We were in consequence moved about a league higher up the
river, where we crossed by a rather deep ford. However, all got safely
over, and we halted for the night on a small plain, a short distance
from the ford, the main body of the enemy having retired and left 800
men in the forts before mentioned. These occupied but about one-third of
the town, of course the remainder was open and free, and, as might be
expected, every one was anxious to have a peep at this famous
university. Consequently away a number of us scampered, and soon entered
the city, the inhabitants of which were overjoyed to see us. The nuns
were seen waving white handkerchiefs out of their iron-grated windows,
and the Padres and other respectable inhabitants welcomed us with a
thousand vivas, embracing us, and using every means of testifying their
joy at our arrival.
I need not attempt to describe the place, for I am not able, and it has
so often been described that my reader will not be disappointed at my
declining to do it here; suffice it to say, the buildings in general,
and the religious edifices in particular, were most superb; but the
Goths had destroyed the finest portion of the city.
The forts were immediately invested, and we went and had a look also at
them. They seemed remarkably strong, having been constructed principally
of hewn stones, taken from the buildings they had destroyed; and on all
sides of them a space of perhaps two hundred yards or more was cleared
away to make room for the play of their artillery, and to prevent a
lodgement being made by the besiegers.
We next day moved from our bivouack near the ford, and marched to the
village of Aldea Secco, in front of which our cavalry and the enemy had
a rencontre, after which the latter retired: this was about a league and
a half in front of Salamanca. Next day we were suddenly assembled in
consequence of the enemy, in great force, making his appearance at some
distance in front of our bivouack. We were then removed from the plain,
and took up a position on a height called Monte Rubio, or Red Hill, a
little to the right. Soon after, also, the other divisions of our army
began to assemble on the height, and our Chief arriving on the spot,
every thing had the appearance of something serious being about to take
place.
Here also, for the first time, I saw Don Carlos de Espagna with his few
followers. These were better clothed and equipped than almost any other
Spanish troops that I had seen. The day passed over, however, without
the French making any attack, and without any movement being made on our
side, farther than putting the different divisions into position as they
arrived on the ground. The French were continually receiving
reinforcements, or rather their different divisions were rapidly
arriving in succession, when they all bivouacked in the plain in front
of us, at perhaps a mile and a half distance, and near to the village of
Morisco. This they very soon gutted of every portable article, whether
it was food, clothes, furniture, or whatever they could carry off; nay,
they unroofed the greater part of the houses for fuel for the troops,
but this latter proceeding could not be avoided, there being no wood
near them. Englishmen may well feel thankful that their dwellings have
not been exposed to such visitors, who, in half an hour, will convert a
comfortable and smiling village into a heap of ruins.
We remained in this position for some days, the two armies, like two
experienced pugilists, each waiting for the other to strike the first
blow, by which he would in some measure lay himself open. It was not,
however, Lord Wellington's game to commence operations, seeing a part of
our army was then employed in the siege of the forts in Salamanca;
besides, it is said, when some one ventured to hint that we should
attack the enemy, that his lordship judged it would make a difference of
3000 men less on the side of the attacking army. I know not if this
story be true, but certainly great prudence was displayed on both sides.
However, the enemy had occasionally cannonaded us a little from the
first; but about three days after their arrival, they made a very brisk
and vigorous attack upon a conical hill immediately in front of our
position, and a little to the right of Morisco. It was defended by the
seventh division, which repelled the attack with great gallantry,
driving the enemy down the hill again with great precipitation. The 68th
regiment distinguished itself greatly, but in their pursuit of the
beaten enemy, they advanced too far into the plain, and which the French
observing, a forward movement was made again by them, and before our
people could recover the high ground, Captain M'Kay and Lieutenant
M'Donald, with a considerable number of their men, were made prisoners.
Poor M'Kay received I know not how many bayonet wounds on this occasion,
I believe not less than ten or twelve, but none of them very serious of
course, or he could not have survived. He, with the others, were taken
into the French lines, but he was so ill when they retired a few days
after, that they were obliged to leave him in Morisco. The enemy's
artillery played upon our line during the greater part of this attack,
and caused us some loss, but not of any consequence, the horses
appearing to have suffered more than the troops.
The French seemed disappointed and annoyed at our sticking so
pertinaciously to the hills on this occasion, and told M'Donald (from
whom I afterwards had this information) that it was only when we had
every advantage on our side that we durst give them battle. Our armies
were, I think, pretty nearly equal, each having perhaps about 40,000,
but they were, I believe, superior in cavalry, and of course the plain
was the very ground for them. Marmont seeing himself thus foiled,
withdrew from before us, and made a movement to his left, crossing the
Tormes with a considerable part of his force, and advanced on the other
side of the river towards Salamanca. Our heavy German cavalry, under
General Baron Back, opposed them here, and greatly distinguished
themselves, driving the enemy's cavalry from the field. Our army made
corresponding movements with the enemy, changing in parts our position.
Meantime the siege of the forts had been proceeding with from the first
day of our arrival, and as the distance from Monte Rubio to the town was
not great, several of us rode in to see how the siege was progressing,
as the Americans have it. An attempt had been made to carry them by
escalade, but it had failed; General Bowes, who led the attacking party,
with several officers and men, having fallen in the attempt. His
lordship now deemed it necessary to batter them regularly previous to
another assault being made upon them. Heavy ordnance was therefore got
into battery, which not only effected a breach in the smaller fort
nearest the principal one, but which also threw a considerable quantity
of hot shot into a building in the centre of it, which served as a
barrack to the troops, the roof of which was presently set on fire, and
the only shelter they had was thus destroyed. They thus were compelled
on the 27th to surrender prisoners of war.
It is not easy to describe the effect produced on those inhabitants who
lived nearest to the forts while the siege was going forward. Just as I
entered one of our batteries, which had been established close behind a
street, still occupied by the people, one of our artillerymen was
carried out shot by a musket ball in the breast, and dead; the poor
people when he was brought out into the street assembled round his body,
and set up the most piteous lamentations imaginable. This impressed me
with the good feeling which must have existed in their minds towards the
English, for they are not a people, as the reader will be aware, who are
very susceptible of horror at the sight of blood. A few hours after
these forts surrendered, I went to visit the principal one--the
devastation caused by our hot shot on the house before mentioned was
awful. They had been obliged to make this their hospital also as well as
barrack, and it was really lamentable to see the poor wounded Frenchmen
lying there in a house that was literally falling about their ears, the
roof having been completely fired, while burning beams and rafters were
continually dropping upon these poor helpless beings. A French surgeon
was still in charge of these men, and he had the politeness to show us
all over the fort. As it had appeared from the outside, it was in
reality remarkably strong, and the place where our people had made an
attempt to escalade it, was pointed out to us; he said it was heavily
mined, and that if our people had carried it by escalade, the mines
would most likely have been sprung. There was fixed immediately opposite
the gate a beam of wood, with holes bored in it, and about twenty musket
barrels fitted into them, so as to command the entrance. These, I
imagine, it was intended to have fired by a train, as our people forced
the gate, and it would have been like a little volley, which must have
swept away the first of the assailants. The inhabitants seemed greatly
rejoiced when this business was concluded, and peace once more
established in their city, and they vied with each other in showing us
every mark of attention and kindness, looking upon us as their
deliverers.
If I am not mistaken, it was here where our illustrious Chief played off
a sort of innocent _ruse_ upon some of the Padres of the place. Soon
after our arrival, and before the attempt upon the forts had failed, he
went to visit some of the principal cathedrals, &c. which remained
entire; the priests of course were proud to show their churches on such
an occasion. He admired them greatly, and praised them much; but what
seemed particularly to attract his attention was the extreme whiteness
and cleanness of their walls and ceilings, although they were so very
lofty. He enquired how they managed to get up to them to keep them so;
and the unsuspecting Padre, without hesitation, led him to where they
kept the immensely long ladders by which they ascended. This was just
the very thing he wanted in his meditated attempt upon the forts, and of
course they, with others of a similar description, were procured for
that service. I will not vouch for the truth of the above, although I
heard it, and I think it was not unlikely to have taken place. Indeed
had he made a formal demand for such things, it is not improbable they
might have denied they had them; but his having seen them himself
precluded this.
The forts surrendered on the 27th, and on the 28th the enemy's main body
retired altogether; for they soon learned the fate of the besieged, as
they had occasionally communicated in some measure by rockets thrown up,
and answered. On the same day, our division moved forward to
Castilbanos; and the day following to Parada de Rubiallis. On the 30th,
we reached Castrillo de Aguerino; and on the 1st of July, the town of
Ravel-del-Rey. The next day, we moved on towards Rueda, a considerable
town. Here we found the French in some force, their main body having
retired across the Duero to Tordesillas. The force in and about Rueda
consisted of both cavalry and infantry, and seemed to act as a rearguard
till the enemy's columns had time to file over the bridge at
Tordesillas. I was at some distance in front of our division, the
cavalry having preceded it, with whom I went forward. As we approached
the place, a pretty large column of the enemy's infantry left it, and
moved in the direction of the bridge. Some of our horse-artillery at
this time came up, and fired Shrapnel shells into it, which did
considerable execution; one shell particularly having killed and wounded
great numbers, among whom was an officer, I think one of the handsomest
men I had almost ever seen. Our cavalry had a little brush with some
squadrons of the enemy a little further on in the plain, and captured a
few prisoners. One of these was the sergeant-major of one of their
hussar regiments, and of all the men I ever saw taken, this man evinced
the greatest trepidation and alarm. He was absolutely like to sink to
the earth, either from fear of what awaited himself, or from the effects
of the contest in which he had been engaged. He had lost his cap in the
fray, and seemed like a person deprived of his senses. He must,
notwithstanding, have been looked upon by the French as a good soldier,
and a valuable non-commissioned officer; for I learned afterwards that
they sent in a request that he might be exchanged for one of our
sergeants whom they had captured, as it was intended immediately to
promote him to the adjutancy of his regiment; of course this was
immediately complied with. The enemy retired to Tordesillas, and we
bivouacked near Rueda, a part of the officers being permitted to go into
houses in the town during the day.
In this situation we remained for a day and a night; but the sun being
so powerful, the troops began to feel the ill effects of the heat. They
were accordingly brought into the town and quartered in the houses. Here
I experienced more of that hostility before spoken of, on the following
occasion. In the number of houses allotted to my battalion, there
happened to be some of the best of them without stables; but as there
was not time to examine farther than their outward appearance, this
could not be known by me. I therefore marked off the houses according to
custom, giving the best, in point of appearance, to the senior officers
in succession, and so on till all were served. It so happened that the
house allotted to this officer, who had nearly the best in the
battalion given him, had no stable. This I was, from the fore-mentioned
cause, totally ignorant of. Neither had I any stable in the house I
occupied, but, after some trouble, I had found one in a house occupied
by some of the men, where I had put up my horses and mules, and went
about the other duties of my station. In the evening I was informed by
my servant that my animals had been turned out by this officer, and his
own put in, in their stead; and that mine were running loose in a yard,
he not caring what became of them. My saddlery, and all the
mule-apparatus, (precious articles in this country,) had also been cast
out. He was my _senior_ officer, and I was consequently obliged to bear
this ill-treatment.
I mention this little circumstance, because it will show with what
determined and unrelenting hostility he pursued me. Indeed it might not
have been so trifling an affair, for had I not heard of it in time, I
might have lost every horse and mule I possessed, which would have been
one of the most serious disasters that could have befallen me. I could
obtain no redress, for the captain before mentioned, who commanded the
battalion, and this officer, being on rather unfriendly terms, he felt
delicate in interfering in my behalf. Indeed I have some reason to
believe, that it was partly on account of his enmity to this captain
(with whom I still messed) that he so persecuted me.
I own I was on this occasion strongly tempted to demand that
satisfaction which the rules of honour (as they are termed) dictate, for
I then had not a Christian feeling on this subject; but after
consideration and consultation with some friends, it was feared he might
take advantage of his superior rank, not only to decline giving me that
satisfaction, but to report me, and thus destroy my prospects for life,
for he would have been compelled to the latter step had he not acceded
to my demand; and from the feeling he displayed towards me, there is not
the least doubt he would have rejoiced at such an opportunity of ruining
me. At this time, also, I had very few _real_ friends who would have
stood by me; for his secret machinations, and his having the ear of our
brigadier, tended greatly to estrange my former friends from me.
All this, as might be expected, tended powerfully to depress my spirits,
and to cast a gloom over a mind but too susceptible of impressions of
that nature; for there is not any thing almost I would not do or submit
to, to live on good terms with those I associate with, and indeed with
all men. My mind was also much harassed at this time by receiving very
unpleasant letters from England on the subject of the goods I before
mentioned, and which had not yet reached any farther than Abrantes; and
as the men began to be ill off for want of clothing, I obtained leave to
proceed forthwith to Abrantes, to endeavour to get both the clothing and
goods brought up to the regiment. I therefore set off, accompanied by
one servant on a mule, leaving the other animals with the battalion, and
proceeded on the 16th on my journey, and passing through Ravel-del-Rey,
I halted for the night in a village where the seventh division was
quartered. As I knew some of the officers of the 51st, I took up my
abode with them for the night, and they indeed received me very kindly.
My friends spent the evening very merrily; but, about midnight, they
were called out and put under arms, expecting shortly to turn in again,
as they told me; but they were marched off, and left the place entirely,
leaving only my servant and myself in occupation of the town.
It seems that Marmont, with his whole force, had moved from Tordesillas,
and had threatened Lord Wellington's communication with Salamanca. In
order, then, to keep up a corresponding movement, and be ready to take
advantage of any false step the enemy might make, his lordship withdrew
his whole force, and began to retire as Marmont advanced. Thus, in the
morning, to my surprise, all the army had left the neighbourhood, and as
I was not certain who the next visitors might be, I quickly decamped
from a village now left open to the enemy. I got on at a considerable
pace, as both my servant and myself were riding, and on the 19th I
reached Salamanca.
During yesterday's march I heard a considerable cannonade to my right
and rear, and I afterwards learnt that the two armies had come nearly in
contact with each other, and some skirmishing and exchange of shots had
taken place. I did not stop in Salamanca longer than to draw rations for
ourselves and animals, being anxious to get on as fast as possible, to
try to get up the supplies while the army remained near the frontiers,
for it was still expected they would advance into the heart of Spain,
notwithstanding the present partial retreat. I accordingly moved on that
evening to Matilla, and continued thus making stages of thirty or forty
miles a-day, and on the 25th I reached Abrantes; but on the preceding
day I was overtaken by Lord Clinton, going home with the dispatches
relative to the glorious and decisive battle of Salamanca, which took
place on the 22d. His lordship was nearly worn out, being actually
asleep on his horse as he rode past me, for he had never once stopped
from the time he first set out. I learnt the news from the person who
accompanied him. It is impossible to describe the joy this information
created among the Portuguese inhabitants of the village. I stopped for
the night at Gaviae.
I found at Abrantes a detachment of our second battalion proceeding to
join the army; but, to my sorrow, learnt there was no chance of
procuring transports for the clothing, &c., for months to come. This was
distressing information to me, and of course added to the despondency
already preying upon my spirits; for the merchants' letters I was
continually receiving began to be most importunate, and indeed
attributing the non-remittal of their money to a want of principle, and
talked of reporting my conduct to the Commander-in-Chief.
Want of a proper religious feeling, under such circumstances, as might
be expected, laid me open to great temptations. I therefore, to drown
sorrow, and because I had always been too much addicted to it, began to
give way to intemperance, and, falling in with a number of officers of
very dissipated habits, I was led on to indulge in the most vile and
abominable of all vices, _drunkenness_, to an excess almost incredible.
But the gloom still seemed to thicken, and a dark cloud seemed impending
over me, of which I was fully aware, and wrote home to my friends to
that effect. At length my birthday, the 4th of August, arrived, and
which must, as my unhappy companions in sin urged on me, be kept with
all due jollity. Accordingly, a dozen of strong port-wine was procured,
and we boozed away most joyfully, the whole being drank by about four or
five of us. This produced constipation in the bowels, and had nigh
brought me to my end; but my mind was more affected, if possible, than
my body. About two days after this debauch, on my retiring to bed at
night, I felt an unusual inclination to rise up and fall down on my
knees, to offer up my evening prayer; for, notwithstanding all my
wickedness and forgetfulness of God, I had not altogether abandoned the
_form_ of _saying_ my prayers at night, but it was always after I lay
down. I resisted this impulse, however, to rise and pray, and, after
mumbling over my _form_ without the _spirit_, I endeavoured to compose
myself to sleep. I did sleep for a while, during which I was troubled
with some confused and incoherent dreams; but soon after awaking,
gracious God! what were my feelings then? Despair, black despair, had
seized upon me. I rushed out of bed, and rolled upon the floor like one
distracted, as indeed I was. Oh! what would I then have given that I had
never been born, or that I could cease to exist! Had it been possible,
by throwing my body into the flames, to annihilate for ever my
consciousness of being, how gladly would I have done it! But no--the
terrors of the Lord were upon me, and drank up my spirits; and no one
who has not been in a similar situation can form the most distant idea
of the misery which preyed upon me. The pains of hell got hold upon me,
and hope seemed for ever to be shut out from my mind. I believed I had
sinned past all redemption; that the mercy of God could not possibly be
extended to me; and of the efficacy of the Redeemer's blood I knew
nothing. Oh! this was a time much to be remembered by me, for none but
He who afflicted me, and my soul which bore the affliction, knows what I
then suffered!
At length the morning came, but with it no comfort for me. One of my
sinful and dissolute companions came to see me, but he seemed greatly
shocked at the recital of my woful tale, and I believe then formed for
himself resolutions of amendment, which I fear, poor fellow, he never
was able to fulfil. He did not long survive, but was shortly after
called to his awful account, whilst I am spared,--a monument of the
long-suffering mercy of God. Amongst all my companions in error and
wickedness, I could not procure a Bible, and, as a proof of the ungodly
state I was then in, I had not one myself. This poor friend, however,
had a Prayer-book, which he lent me, and out of which I eagerly sought
for comfort and hope, but in vain, for all was against me. Yes--and all
who make God their enemy, will find in the hour of need, that every
other creature and thing will fail to yield them comfort; but I had
sinned too deeply and too perseveringly to find peace speedily. Oh! in
what black array did the sins of my whole life pass before me, and how
did I sigh for annihilation; or, if I could in any way atone for my
wickedness, if I could but go and bury myself in a cave or den of the
earth, and forego for ever all intercourse with mankind, how easily and
how cheaply did I then conceive I should purchase pardon and peace! But,
alas! I knew nothing of the way of reconciliation with an offended God,
although I had been duly instructed in my youth. I was in such agony of
mind that I scarcely heeded my body, but was prevailed upon to have a
surgeon, who administered what he considered necessary, but without
effect. My bowels had ceased to perform their functions, and this no
doubt would greatly affect my head; still, although this, as a _second_
cause of the distraction of my mind, was easily discoverable, yet the
_great first cause_, not only of my disorder, but of all its effects,
was the God against whom I had so grievously sinned, and from whom alone
I could hope for the removal of my present sufferings. But hope was at
this time banished from my breast, and I gave myself up to all the
agonies of a soul that is lost for ever; but still I could not _rest_ in
this sad situation. I therefore now determined to set off for Lisbon, in
hopes that I might obtain from the chaplain, who was stationed there,
some slight alleviation of my misery, for none but Roman Catholic
priests were to be found where I then was. I accordingly set off,
accompanied by my servant, but in such a hurry, and so utterly
regardless of all worldly concerns, that I left my baggage in my
quarters, which was taken care of by the friend before mentioned.
I started in the afternoon of the second day after my attack. The sun
was scorching hot above my head, but I regarded it not, seeing there was
a hotter fire within me; indeed I believed I could not mortify my flesh
sufficiently, so blind was I at this time of the nature of atonement. My
feeling was, that I had an Almighty enemy over me; that His eye was upon
me for evil, let me go where I would; and that I could not possibly
escape from the destruction which He would shortly inflict upon my soul.
How gladly, as I rode along, would I have solicited the rocks and
mountains to fall upon me, and hide me from His sight, did I believe
they could have availed for this purpose! But no--I felt it was
impossible, and that I must endure for a short while longer the lighter
punishment he had then laid upon me; and by and by I must drink to the
dregs the cup of His everlasting indignation. O, sinners! be persuaded
to flee from the wrath to come, for indeed one of the slightest terrors
of the Almighty is enough to drive to distraction the strongest mind,
and to appal the stoutest heart!
I arrived at Galigao, the place of my intended rest for the night--and
here I was attacked with ague and fever in addition to my other
disorder--this was the effect of my exposure to the sun in so weak a
state. But I cared not for my body. I knew that would return to the dust
from whence it was taken. But oh! the never-dying soul--to think that it
should endure eternal and omnipotent wrath, overwhelmed me with dread
indescribable. My mind, it is true, was affected by my disorder; but it
could not be termed insanity or madness, for I even now remember with
great distinctness the feelings I then experienced, and those feelings
remained with me for a considerable time afterwards.
Here I felt myself extremely ill, and believed I could not survive till
morning. I consequently got my servant to make down my bed in a corner
of the room I occupied, with his own near it, and told him to leave the
candle burning, for that my time could not be long. I was compelled to
submit, and quietly lay myself down, in dreadful expectation of the
fatal hour, and when, as I imagined, the infernal fiend would be
commissioned to seize and carry off my soul to its abode of everlasting
misery. I could not pray, nor had I any the most distant hope that my
sentence could be reversed, for I fully believed it had been finally
pronounced by Him who changeth not.
During this woful night, I appeared to possess a sort of second self, a
being which existed and thought and reasoned quite distinct from that
_me_ who was stretched upon the floor, and which appeared to upbraid me
with the misery it was then suffering, and was still to suffer, for the
sins of my past abandoned life. I know not whether any other person in
despair ever experienced this feeling; but to me it was quite obvious,
for I remember distinctly the sin to which it more particularly drew my
guilty attention. Was not this the soul which will exist when the body
is dissolved, and may not such an upbraiding take place between the body
and the soul when the former shall be raised to join the latter in the
judgment? But the fact is, my soul was that night as it were on the
point of taking its departure from the tenement of clay, and seemed
strong to endure the everlasting wrath of God.
I do not know whether I slept any during this dreadful night; but
morning came, and with it a certainty that I was still in this world,
but without the hope that this might have been expected to produce. I
felt as in a fire, yet I scarcely durst put my burning hands into the
water my servant brought me. I felt convinced that I had forfeited all
claim to any thing like blessings, and that curses, both in body and
soul, were alone my due.
Ill as I was, however, I proceeded on my melancholy journey, not with
any hope that a minister of religion could give _me_ any relief, but a
drowning man will catch at a straw. Oh! how strong, how awfully strong,
did my soul appear at this time, to endure the tremendous wrath of
Omnipotence, whilst my body seemed fast sinking into its original
element!
I reached Lisbon in two days from this time, having taken a boat at
Santarem. I ate nothing, with a trifling exception. I had no inclination
for food, nor did I think I ought, for the reason before given; my only
sustenance was a little water which I kept in a bottle, and with which I
now and then moistened my parched lips.
I arrived at Lisbon about daybreak in the morning, and proceeded as well
as I was able to a friend's house, and knocked at the door; but shocked
indeed were he and his wife, when they saw me standing below, more like
a ghost than an inhabitant of this world. Indeed it is not easy to
describe my looks at this time; there must have been much of that
spiritual misery depicted in them which a confirmed despair no doubt
produces. They took me in, and after hearing my woful tale, prepared to
do for me the best that lay in their power; they gave me their own bed,
taking a pallet for themselves, and treated me as if I had been their
brother. He, poor fellow, is no more, but his beloved and kind partner
still lives, and may she always enjoy that happiness she seemed so
desirous of contributing to on this occasion, and everlasting happiness
hereafter! As soon as it could be conveniently done, the clergyman was
sent for, and also a medical officer, although from neither had I any
hope. But, alas! from the former, although a kind and sympathizing man,
I derived but little benefit. He did not direct me to the only source of
a sin-sick being's hopes, the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of
the world. He made my hopes to centre too much in my own resolutions and
after-doings. No doubt, as my sins had been enormous and flagrant, my
repentance ought to be proportioned; but when he saw me bowed down under
an indescribable sense of guilt, oh! had he, like Paul to the jailer,
pointed me to the Saviour, how unutterably precious and acceptable would
it have been to my soul! I do not remember that any one character in
scripture is described as having felt more fully and more keenly the
sinfulness of sin, and of its consequent danger to the soul, than I did
at this time. How thankfully would I have accepted the mode of salvation
pointed out in the gospel; for indeed I was but too much (as all natural
men are) inclined to expect pardon and happiness from the things which,
if God spared me, I intended to perform. But He only knows best. This
kind gentleman wrote me out prayers, and seemed much interested in my
welfare; notwithstanding, the gloom of despair still hung heavy on me,
and at length; and when the kind medical friend was enabled, after
repeated efforts, to procure me some relief, I felt as if it was only
the prolonging of my existence, in order that I might fill up the
measure of my iniquity. This, I am now fully persuaded, was a suggestion
of the Father of Lies, in hopes probably of prevailing upon me to adopt
the awful and miserable resolution of Judas to get rid of life.
I thank God this was the only temptation of that nature which he
permitted me to be exercised with; for I felt no inclination even in my
darkest hours to commit suicide, fully believing that the utmost of my
sufferings here could bear no proportion to those of the damned in hell.
I consequently had no inclination to hasten them by rushing into
eternity; this, it is evident, was of the merciful goodness of the Lord,
and for which I am bound to be truly thankful.
I continued in this state of mind for several months, and could not,
with all my reading, praying, and doing, find peace. My reading and
praying seemed to me more like an irksome task, than an exercise in
which I took delight. I had formed a resolution from the first to retire
from the service, where it appeared to me I was exposed to so many
temptations; but here the experienced Christian will perceive how
erroneous were my views, and I think feel pleased that I never fully
effected my purpose, although I made preparations for it. Indeed I could
not well feel _certain_ that I should act right by retiring from the
post to which God's providence had appointed me, although my firm
determination was to live devoted to Him. But, alas! how wofully have I
failed of maintaining that resolution!
My health now gradually improved, under the kind and fostering
attentions of my warm-hearted host and hostess, and it became necessary
that I should resume my station at Abrantes, which I did, in hopes of
being able to obtain transport from thence, although the army was at
this time in the neighbourhood of Madrid. But after returning to
Abrantes I suffered a relapse, and was again brought to the borders of
the grave, my mind still deeply impressed with my former ill
forebodings, although not quite so distressing as before. I got my
servant to read to me while I lay groaning on the floor, for I could not
bear to sleep in a bed at this time, but felt little comfort from his
endeavours, the Scriptures being at this time "a sealed book" to me; so
true is it that till the grace of God dispels our darkness we have no
light in us.
I think it is probable that some of my readers, on perusing this part of
my narrative, will be inclined to say, "surely this man must have been
an uncommon and atrocious sinner, above all others, or he never would
have suffered thus." I acknowledge with shame that I have been a most
abominable and vile sinner, deserving of all the Lord laid upon me, and
much more, for I was, and am, fully deserving of hell fire; and should
that be my portion (as, through the merits and sufferings of my Saviour,
I have a humble hope it will not be), I must acknowledge the kindness
and justice of God, although I perish for ever. But I would say to such
readers, as our Saviour said to the Jews, that "except _ye_ repent, _ye_
shall likewise perish." Others may be inclined, on the contrary, to say,
that all this was merely the effect of disease, and not at all to be
resolved into God's hatred of sin and punishment of it in this instance.
I acknowledge that it was the effect of disease. But when God laid that
disease upon me, He knew what effect it would produce upon my mind;
consequently, both disease and mental agony came from Him; and, because
I knew it came from Him, "I held my tongue and said nothing." And I have
now, and I hope shall have for ever, the greatest cause to bless His
holy name for this, as one of the greatest mercies He ever showed me,
for having thus taught me to know how evil and bitter a thing sin is,
and to set a juster estimate upon his favour. He thus taught me also to
value and love the Saviour, who alone can deliver me from the
punishment, the power, the pollution, and the love of sin, and to make
me happy for ever. Blessed be His holy name, for He has done to me all
things well, and I humbly hope to enjoy His favour for ever.
During my stay at Lisbon, my batman, whom I before mentioned as having
lost, or rather sold, my mule, and who had here rejoined me to take care
of the horse and mule I had with me, either from remorse, or some other
cause, made an attempt to cut his throat, and succeeded so far as to
sever the windpipe, I believe, but did not quite effect his purpose. He
was found in a field near Lisbon bleeding nearly to death, and brought
into the hospital, where, with great care, and after some time, he
recovered. Indeed 1812 was a sickly year, and many were affected
strongly in the mind, several having committed suicide, I believe.
While I lay here ill the second time, I received a letter from the
regiment telling me that the paymastership had become vacant, the poor
old gentleman with whom I returned to England last year, having come out
again to the Peninsula, and got as far as Rodrigo on his way to the
regiment, and there, being attacked with the same disease I had suffered
so much from, died; and that as General Stewart, our colonel, had
arrived at Lisbon, I was to go and wait upon him, and that letters would
be written from the regiment requesting him to recommend me for the
situation.
I with great difficulty again reached Lisbon, and waited upon the
general, but to my great mortification I found the promised letters from
the regiment had never been received, and that another person had, in
consequence, been recommended, he being the son of the late paymaster,
and had applied some time before. My disappointment did not prey upon my
mind, for at this time I set very light indeed by the good things of
this world, and felt conscious that I already possessed much more than I
deserved. I was compelled through illness to remain again in Lisbon some
time, but found great difficulty to obtain permission from the
commandant for so doing. My general, however, procured me leave to stay
till I should be able to resume my post at Abrantes. Here, not only
myself, but all the officers who were then in Lisbon, and also at the
army, suffered much from the want of subsistence. I had at this period
seven months' pay due me, and could not obtain a dollar from the public
chest, although I wrote a note to the commandant showing him how I was
suffering from want of money.
The army had in the meantime pursued the French, as before noticed, on
one side to Madrid, and on the other to Burgos; but the attempt to take
the latter by storm having failed, and the enemy having been able to
assemble a more numerous force than Lord Wellington had before it, he
was obliged to retire from both those places to the frontiers of
Portugal. The division from Cadiz, the siege of which having been raised
by our forward movement in summer, had joined the army at Madrid. Much
was suffered, I understand, during this retreat, the troops having been
exposed to great privations, and the weather being exceedingly wet and
unpleasant. My division, after the retreat, took up its quarters again
in the villages on the Portuguese side of Rodrigo--my battalion being
stationed at the village of Espeja. The army, as might be expected from
the late severe and harassing service they had been engaged in, began to
be extremely ill off indeed for want of clothing, many of the men being
nearly quite naked; in consequence, the most pressing orders were sent
from head-quarters to use every means possible to have the supplies
immediately forwarded, for Abrantes at this time contained stores
belonging to almost every regiment in the army. My health having been
considerably improved, I again returned to that depot, and, after
waiting a few weeks, the means of transport were at last given me by the
commissary there. I need not say with what alacrity I prepared for and
commenced my long wished for journey. I had got a sufficient escort
assigned me, from a detachment of our men being about to join the
regiment.
We started about the beginning of January 1813, and proceeded on our
route by way of Niza, &c. I had been obliged to buy another horse from
some cause which I do not now recollect, but when we were leaving the
town just named, I found, on turning out to move off, that a large nail
had been driven right up into the centre of one of his feet. Whether
this was done accidentally, or by design, I never could learn, but the
consequence was the loss of the horse. I had great trouble also to keep
the convoy, which consisted of about a dozen bullock carts, with as many
soldiers as an escort, together; the drivers, if they were not strictly
guarded, very often made their escape, taking their bullocks with them
during the night, and leaving the cart in our possession, glad, I dare
say, that they got off so cheaply, for they seemed to have a great
antipathy to go with us. I was therefore compelled to collect them all
together near Castello Branco, and making the soldiers load their rifles
before them, told them as well as I was able that they had orders to
shoot the first who attempted to desert with his bullocks. This had a
good effect, for I believe we lost no more till we reached the regiment;
but, as we approached the frontiers of Spain, several of the drivers ran
away without their cattle, preferring the loss of both bullocks, cart,
and payment, rather than enter that country, of which the peasantry in
general seemed to have a great dread. Those who stuck by us to the last,
were rewarded with the bullocks and carts of the deserters; but I think
we did not take more than two or three out of the twelve to the
regiment, the rest had all made their escape. Nothing can be conceived
more tiresome than travelling with such a convoy. The carts are all
constructed upon the principle of the Irish car; that is, the axle rolls
round with the wheels, they being firmly united; consequently the
creaking noise created by the friction is loud and most unpleasant, and
they have no idea of grease or tar to diminish this, but believe in many
parts, if not in all, the noise to be a sort of holy noise, which keeps
the devil from them. I found, in removing these stores, that great
robberies had taken place upon them, several of the bales having been
opened while on board ship, great quantities of goods taken out, and
their place filled up with old transport bedding, &c. I found it
necessary, however, to endeavour to bear up against all this, for my
mind would not suffer me to dwell too much upon such misfortunes. At
length I arrived at the regiment, where indeed I was a welcome guest,
for they were greatly in need of all kinds of equipment.
The officer who had rendered my life so unhappy before, had left the
regiment, and gone into another far distant from my present place of
abode, for which I was truly thankful, and his absence I found produced
a great change in my favour; for every one seemed glad to see me, and
sympathized with me in my late alarming illness; in fact, the face of
things was entirely changed for the better. I myself had benefited much
by my late chastisement. I had learned to think meanly of myself, and to
be kind and submissive to all to whom I owed submission; a virtue which,
I fear, I was but too deficient in before.
All things now went well with me. The goods, which before had been such
a source of uneasiness and trouble, were rapidly disposing of, and thus
the prospect of my soon being able to pay my creditors became every day
brighter. But, in the mean time, what I had hinted at before took place:
one of the merchants had actually reported me to his Royal Highness the
Duke of York. This might, indeed, have deprived me of my commission, had
his Royal Highness been harsh with me; but he caused a letter to be
written to my commanding-officer, (now Sir Andrew Barnard,) to call on
me to explain why I had not remitted the merchant what I owed him, and
to account for my not answering his letters, which he said I had failed
to do for several months. My answer was very simple, as the reader is
aware; but, with respect to the letters, I showed the colonel one, in
which the merchant acknowledged having received one from me a short time
previously. This also was satisfactory, and I had moreover remitted him
a short while before L.300 of the money I owed him. The colonel was
fully satisfied, and wrote off to his Royal Highness accordingly, and I
heard no more of the business. Soon after the captain, who had been
acting as paymaster, was obliged to return to England, on account of ill
health. After some necessary steps I was appointed to this duty, it
being an addition of 10s. per diem to my pay. According to the army
regulations, a person in my situation could not be appointed acting
paymaster; but a committee of three captains was formed, who took all
the responsibility of my transactions upon themselves, giving me, as
before said, the whole 10s. per diem. This showed, at least, that they
were not afraid to trust themselves in my hands; for I might have
involved them deeply. In short, whatever I did (almost) prospered, and a
kind Providence seemed to smile upon me; and I believe that from this to
the close of the Peninsular campaigns was the happiest part of my life.
I have reason, therefore, to bless God for his unbounded goodness to
me.