BAY OF CORUNNA.

As the troops approached Corunna, many an anxious look was directed towards the harbour. Nothing was to be discovered but the wide waste of water. The painful truth became evident, that contrary winds had detained at Vigo the fleet on board of whose ships the forces sought to embark; so that after one of the severest and most prolonged tests to which human endurance could be submitted, and the consuming exertions, pushed on through storm and tempest, of many wearisome days, the whole was rendered nugatory by an event over which human foresight or power had no control; and the point to which they had fought their way, instead of presenting the means of effectual retreat, became a cul de sac, or place leading nowhere. The men were immediately put into quarters, and their leader awaited the progress of events. Three divisions occupied the town and suburbs; the reserve was posted with its left at the village of El Burgo, and its right on the road of St. Jago de Compostella. For twelve days these hardy soldiers had covered the retreat, during which time they had traversed eighty miles of road in two marches, passed several nights under arms in the snow of the mountains, were seven times engaged with the enemy; and they now assembled at the outposts, having fewer men missing from the ranks than any other division of the army. The bridge of El Burgo was immediately destroyed, and an engineer was sent to blow up that of Combria, situated a few miles up the Mero river. This officer was mortified at the former failures, and so anxious to perform his duty in an effectual manner, that he remained too near the mine, and was killed by the explosion. This was followed by the destruction of an immense quantity of combustible material. Three miles from the town four thousand barrels of powder were piled in a magazine built on a hill; a smaller quantity collected in another storehouse was at some distance from the first: to prevent these magazines from falling into the hands of the enemy, they were both fired on the 13th. The inferior one blew up with a terrible noise, and shook the houses in the town; but when the train reached the great store, there ensued a crash like the bursting forth of a volcano—the earth trembled for miles, the rocks were torn from their bases, and the agitated waters rolled the vessels as in a storm. A vast column of smoke and dust, shooting out fiery sparks from its sides, arose perpendicularly and slowly to a great height, and then a shower of stones, and fragments of all kinds bursting out of it with a roaring sound, killed several persons who remained too near the spot. A stillness, interrupted only by the lashing of the waves on the shore, succeeded, and the business of the war went on.

The plot now rapidly thickened. Hemmed in by the gathering forces of the numerous French corps, whose advance had been hastened by prodigious sacrifices, both of men and means, the handful of British troops, thinned by recent losses, and worn down by the length of a harassed and contested march, were now cooped within the surface of a few square miles. Negotiation with the enemy, having for its object the permissive embarkation of the army, had been intimated to the commander by some of the officers as a prudent step, under the continued and increasing difficulties of the army, but was properly rejected, with that high spirit and clear judgment which was safely founded on an intimate knowledge of the army he commanded, and the resistance it could offer, even in its dangerous and unfavourable position. The enemy having collected in force on the Mero, it became necessary to choose a position of battle. A chain of rocky elevations, commencing on the sea-coast, and ending on the Mero, just behind the village of El Burgo, offered an advantageous line of defence; but this ridge was too extensive for the British army, and, if not wholly occupied, the French might have turned it by the right, and moved along a succession of eminences to the gates of Corunna. There was no alternative but to take post on an inferior range, enclosed, as it were, within the other, and completely commanded by it within cannon-shot. The French army had been so exhausted by toil, that it was not completely assembled on the Mero before the 12th. The same evening the expected transports from Vigo hove in sight, and soon after entered the harbour of Corunna; and the dismounted cavalry, the sick, all the best of the horses, and fifty-two pieces of artillery were embarked during the night; eight British and four Spanish guns were, however, retained on shore, ready for action. Towards evening on the 15th, the English piquets opposite the right of the French got engaged, and being galled by the fire of two guns, Colonel M’Kenzie, of the 5th, at the head of some companies, endeavoured to seize the battery, when a line of infantry, hitherto concealed by some stone walls, arose, and poured in such a fire of musketry, that the colonel was killed, and his men forced back with loss.

The morning of the 16th at length arose. All the encumbrances of the army had been shipped on the preceding night, and every measure that prudence could suggest was adopted for the safe and expeditious embarkation of the men, whenever the darkness would permit them to move without being perceived; but about two o’clock in the afternoon every one saw that these preparations, though skilfully arranged, would not then be required. A general movement along the French line gave notice of immediate action, and nothing remained on our side but to give them a proper reception. The British infantry, fourteen thousand five hundred strong, occupied the inferior range of hills already named. The French force could not be less than twenty thousand men; and the Duke of Dalmatia, having made his disposition, lost little time in idle evolutions. His lighter guns being distributed along the front of his line, a heavy fire was opened from the battery on his left, when three solid masses of infantry led to the assault. A cloud of skirmishers led the way, and the British piquets being driven back in disorder, the village of Elvina was carried by the first column, which afterwards dividing, one-half pushed on against Baird’s front, the other turned his right by the valley. The second column made for the centre. The third engaged the left by the village of Palavia Abaxo. The weight of the French guns overmatched the English six-pounders, and their shot swept the position to the centre. The ground about the village of Elvina was intersected by stone walls and hollow roads: a severe scrambling fight ensued, but in half an hour the French were borne back with great loss. The 50th regiment entered the village with them, and after a second struggle drove them to some distance beyond it. Meanwhile, the general, bringing up a battalion of the brigade of Guards to fill the space in the line left vacant by those two regiments, the 42nd mistook his intentions, and at that moment the enemy, being reinforced, renewed the fight beyond the village; the officer commanding the 50th was wounded and taken prisoner, and Elvina became the scene of another struggle. This being observed by the commander-in-chief, he addressed a few animating words to the 42nd, and caused it to return to the attack. General Paget, with the reserve, now descended into the valley, and the line of skirmishers being thus supported vigorously checked the advance of the enemy’s troops in that quarter, while the 4th regiment galled their flank. A furious action now ensued along the entire line, in the valley and on the hills.

Sir John Moore, while earnestly watching the result of the battle about the village of Elvina, was struck on the left breast by a cannon-shot. The shock threw him from his horse with violence. He rose again in a sitting posture. His eye was still fixed on the regiments engaged in his front; and in a few moments, when he was satisfied that the troops were gaining ground, his countenance brightened, and he suffered himself to be taken to the rear. The dreadful nature of the injury he had received was then noticed; the shoulder was shattered in pieces, and the muscles of the breast torn into long strips, which were interlaced by their recoil from the strain and dragging of the shot. As the soldiers placed him in a blanket his sword got entangled, and the hilt entered the wound. Captain Hardinge, a staff officer, who was near, attempted to take it off; but the dying man stopped him, saying: ‘It is as well as it is. I had rather it should go out of the field with me.’ In that manner Sir John was borne from the fight.

During this time the army was rapidly gaining ground. The reserve, overthrowing everything in the valley, and obliging Houssaye’s dragoons, who had dismounted, to retire, turned the enemy’s left, and even approached the eminence upon which the great battery was erected. On the left, Colonel Nicholls, at the head of some companies of the 14th, carried Palavia Abaxo, and in the centre the obstinate dispute for Elvina terminated in favour of the British; so that when the night set in, their line was considerably beyond the position of the morning, and the French were falling back in confusion. On the other hand, to continue the action in the dark was a dangerous experiment; for the French were still the more numerous, and their ground was strong. The disorder they were in offered so favourable an opportunity to get on board the ships, that Sir John Hope, upon whom the command of the army had devolved, satisfied with having repulsed the attack, judged it more prudent to pursue the original plan of embarking during the night. That operation was effected without delay; the arrangements being complete, no confusion or difficulty occurred. The piquets kindling a number of fires covered the retreat of the columns, and were themselves withdrawn at day-break, and embarked under the protection of General Hill’s brigade, which was posted near the ramparts of the town. When the morning dawned, the French, observing that the British had abandoned their position, pushed forward some battalions to the height of St. Lucie, and succeeded in establishing a battery, which, playing upon the shipping in the harbour, caused a great deal of disorder among the transports. Several masters cut their cables, and four vessels went on shore; but the troops being immediately removed by the men-of-war’s boats, the stranded vessels were burnt, and the whole fleet at last got away.

Thus ended the retreat to Corunna. From the spot where he fell, Sir John Moore was carried to the town by a party of soldiers. The blood flowed fast, and the torture of the wound increased; but such was the firmness of his mind that those about him expressed a hope that his hurt was not mortal. Hearing this, he looked steadfastly at the injury for a moment, and then said: ‘No; I feel that to be impossible.’ Several times he caused his attendants to stop and turn him round, that he might behold the field of battle; and when the firing indicated the advance of the British, he expressed his satisfaction, and permitted the bearers to proceed. Being brought to his lodgings, the surgeons examined the wound; but there was no hope. The pain increased, and he spake with great difficulty. His countenance continued firm, and his thoughts clear; only once, when he spake of his mother, he became agitated. The fight was scarcely ended when his corpse, wrapped in a military cloak, was interred by the officers of his staff in the citadel of Corunna. The guns of the enemy paid his funeral honours; and Soult, with a noble feeling of respect for his valour, raised a monument to his memory.

Through the whole of this eventful retreat I was mercifully preserved from grievous injury. The privations of the army were shared by all; and to these I was no stranger. Many miles of road through which our route lay were nearly deserted by the inhabitants, who, unknowing whom to trust, were afraid both of friend and foe; hence arose great scarcity of provisions. It often happened that long before we had appeared tidings of our approach had induced the entire population of the district to disappear, and with it all vestiges of food. Wine might occasionally be obtained, and sometimes in profusion; but I had observed that when our men had indulged in strong liquor, with little or no solid food, the effect was injurious, so that on the following day, when the excitement had subsided, they were unable to keep our pace: diminished strength thus compelled them to drop off, and not a few were actually picked up by the French, who hung on our rear. Another serious difficulty arose from the circumstance that our retreat was conducted in winter. The roads for an immense distance had been torn into deep ruts by the wheels of the baggage-wagons and cannon, and rendered rough by the trampling of cavalry horses; severe frost then set in, when the rough and rugged surface was suddenly hardened into ice. Meantime my shoes were worn out, and as they would no longer hold together, I was compelled to march barefooted. This was severe, and the sensation produced was singularly painful. In the frozen condition of the ground every step seemed to place my feet on flint: scarcely able to move, and yet forbidden to stay, the sergeant of my company, a worthy fellow, proposed to lend me a pair of shoes, but his kindness was unavailing; on attempting to put them on, they would not fit my feet. How it was that I was sustained under these difficulties, I knew not then; but now I know: the Almighty was my support, though I was heedless of His help. ‘His arm unseen conveyed me safe’; and I feel at this moment some satisfaction, which I hope may be pardoned, that though heavily pressed with the sufferings of those days, I never fell out of the line of march, or impeded the public service by imbecility of purpose or disposition to flinch from duty. Previous to embarkation I was provided with the article needed; and, praised be the Lord! I have never wanted a pair of shoes from that day to this. On getting into the boat which conveyed me on board the ship, determined to forget my former vexations, I threw my old shoes into the sea, and there, like my past troubles, they were soon out of sight and forgotten.

CHAPTER IV.

DISASTERS OF THE RETREAT—VOYAGE HOME IN THE HINDOSTAN—ORDERED TO PORTUGAL—LANDED AT LISBON—ARRIVAL AT TALAVERA—THE HEROINE OF MATAGORDA—SIEGE OF CIUDAD RODRIGO BY THE FRENCH—THE DEFENCE OF LISBON—CAPTAIN GUACHÉ—GALLANTRY OF GENERAL CRAUFORD—TERRIBLE COMBAT AT BARBA DEL PUERCO.