CHAPTER VI.
COMBAT OF SABUGAL—FUENTES D’ONORO—BATTLE OF ALBUERA—AUTHOR SENT TO LISBON—GETS INTO TROUBLE—SIEGE OF CIUDAD RODRIGO—GENERAL CRAUFORD KILLED—FORTITUDE OF THE BRITISH SOLDIERS.
At daylight on the 3rd of April our nearness to the enemy indicated the approach of another collision. The English general, having ten thousand men pivoted on the 5th division at Sabugal, designed to turn Reynier’s left, and surround him before he could be succoured. This well-concerted plan was marred by one of those accidents to which war is always liable, and brought on the combat of Sabugal, one of the hottest in which I was ever engaged. The morning was so foggy that the troops could not gain their respective posts of attack with that simultaneous regularity which is so essential to success. Colonel Beckwith, who commanded the first brigade, halted at a ford to await orders, and at that moment a staff officer rode up, and somewhat hastily asked why he did not attack. The thing appeared rash, but with an enemy in front he could make no reply; and instantly passing the river, which was deep and rapid, mounted a steep wooded hill on the other side. Many of the men were up to their middle in water; and a dark, heavy rain coming on, it was impossible for some time to distinguish friends from foes. The attack was thus made too soon; for owing to the obscurity, none of the divisions of the army had reached their respective posts; and Beckwith having only one bayonet regiment and four companies of riflemen, was advancing against more than twelve thousand infantry, supported by cavalry and artillery.
Scarcely had the riflemen reached the top of the hill, when a compact and strong body of French drove them back upon the 43rd. The weather cleared at that instant, and Beckwith at once saw and felt all his danger; but, well supported as he was, it was met with a heart that nothing could shake. Leading a fierce charge, he beat back the enemy, and the summit of the hill was attained; but at the same moment two French guns opened with grape, at the distance of a hundred yards, a fresh body appeared in front, and considerable forces fell upon either flank of the regiment. Fortunately, Reynier, little expecting to be attacked, had, for the convenience of water, placed his principal masses in the low ground behind the height on which the action commenced; his renewed attack was therefore uphill, yet the musketry, heavy from the beginning, now increased to a storm. The French mounted the acclivity with great clamour; and it was evident that nothing but the most desperate fighting could save the regiment from destruction. Captain Hopkins, commanding a flank company of the 43rd, immediately ran out to the right, and with admirable presence of mind seized a small eminence close to the French guns and commanding the ascent by which the French troops were approaching. His first fire was so sharp that the assailants were thrown into confusion, they rallied, and were again confounded by the volleys of this company; a third time they endeavoured to form an attack, when Hopkins, with a sudden charge, increased the disorder, and at the same moment the two battalions of the 52nd regiment, which had been attracted by the fire, entered the line. Meantime the centre and left of the 43rd were furiously engaged, and excited beyond all former precedent. Beckwith, wounded in the head, and with the blood streaming down his face, rode amongst the foremost of the skirmishers, directing all with ability, and praising the men in a loud, cheerful tone. I was close to him at the time. One of our company called out, ‘Old Sydney is wounded.’ Beckwith heard the remark, and instantly replied, ‘But he won’t leave you: fight on, my brave fellows: we shall beat them.’ The musket bullets flew thicker and closer every instant; but the French fell fast. A second charge cleared the hill, a howitzer was taken, and the British skirmishers were even advanced a short way down the hill, when small bodies of French cavalry came galloping in from all parts, and obliged them to take refuge in the main body of the regiment. Having brought down a Frenchman by a random shot, I advanced close to the poor fellow as he lay on his side. Never shall I forget the alarm that was pictured on his countenance; he thought I was going to bayonet him, to avert which he held out his knapsack, containing most likely all his worldly substance, by way of appeasing my wrath. Unwilling to injure a fallen foe, I did not take his life, and in a few seconds he was protected by a charge of cavalry.
The English line was now formed behind a stone wall above; yet one squadron of dragoons surmounted the ascent, and with incredible desperation, riding up to this wall, were in the act of firing over it with their pistols, when a rolling volley laid nearly the whole of them prostrate. By this time, however, a second and stronger column of infantry had rushed up the face of the hill, endeavouring to break in and retake the howitzer, which was on the edge of the descent, and only fifty yards from the wall. But no man could reach it and live, so deadly was the 43rd’s fire. One of my comrades, having previously passed the howitzer, took a piece of chalk from his pocket, and, as he said, marked it as our own, and we were determined to keep it. Reynier, convinced at last that he had acted unskilfully in sending up his troops in small parties, put all his reserves, amounting to nearly six thousand infantry, with artillery and cavalry, into motion, and outflanking the division on the left, appeared resolved to storm the contested position. At this critical period the 5th division passed the bridge of Sabugal, the British cavalry appeared on the hills beyond the enemy’s left, and General Colville with the leading brigade of the 3rd division issued out of the woods on Reynier’s right, and opened a fire on the flank that directly decided the fate of the day. The loss of the allies in this sanguinary contest, which did not last quite an hour, was nearly two hundred killed and wounded; that of the enemy was enormous,—three hundred dead bodies were heaped together on the hill, the greater part round the captured howitzer; and more than twelve hundred were wounded,—so unwisely had Reynier managed his masses, and so true and constant was the English fire. Lord Wellington afterwards observed that this was one of the most glorious actions that British troops ever sustained. If by this term we are to understand that a numerous and well-disciplined force was signally repulsed by one of numerical inferiority, and that on the British side our national honour was upheld, he was right. In any other sense, the glories of war are, I am afraid, of a cast rather ambiguous. I scarcely ever before saw such determined firmness in our troops. It amounted almost to invincibility. During the action there was through our ranks to be observed a fierce and terrible anger, before the breakings forth of which the enemy quailed and fled. Our fire was given with singular exactness and rapidity. This fine conduct arose partly from a sense of extreme personal danger, for of that not a man was insensible; and partly from the desire, which I believe pervaded every breast, of properly supporting the officers engaged.
Among others, I had been unusually excited, and had dealt out wounds and destruction with an unsparing hand. In endeavouring to reach the enemy, all concern for my own preservation was forgotten. Just as the action commenced, a round shot struck a horseman close to my side, and brought him down. Daniel Lowry, an intimate friend, who was also within a few paces, was slain. My old captain was hit, and badly wounded; his place was, however, well supplied by Lieutenant Brown, who succeeded in the command of the company. After the action had ceased, the latter officer was pleased to take special notice of my conduct, and by his recommendation I was made corporal in one of the companies of the regiment. We halted on the field of battle during the succeeding day. Some of our men were quartered in a chapel which had been recently occupied by French troops. Nearly the whole of the interior fittings were destroyed. As the place had been used for Roman Catholic worship, saints and images, attired in fanciful vestments, ‘black, white, and grey, with all their trumpery,’ had been abundant. These petty divinities, despite of their alleged virtues, were upset and destroyed; some were prostrate on the floor, others were broken and disfigured, not a few had been consumed, and all that remained of many were a few glowing embers.
As food now became dreadfully scarce, a small party, of which I was one, went in search of bread or any other article of sustenance we could procure. After wandering at least ten or twelve miles from the camp ground, we observed a young heifer, to which we immediately gave chase; but the animal was so timid, and withal so swift of foot, that after a weary pursuit the game was lost. The French soldiers had, in fact, laid waste the land. Having spread themselves over the surface of many a league, they had, like a devastating army of locusts, devoured every particle of food within reach; and what in some respects is worse, what they did not eat was destroyed. On ascending an eminence, we saw the smoke of several burning villages. One of the men discovered also, at a moderate distance, what appeared to be two or three huts; we accordingly made for them; on arriving near the spot, we found they were tents, pitched apparently for temporary use. Two or three women and some children presently appeared, when we asked if they had any bread and wine to sell; telling them at the same time, to secure their favour, that we were English soldiers. They were inexorable, and declared they had nothing; but one of our party, not disposed to credit the ladies, forced his way into the tent, and dragged out a leathern bottle, containing perhaps twenty or thirty gallons of liquid. We flattered ourselves it was wine, but on inspection it was filled with oil. Several loaves of bread were, however, discovered, with which we made free; but had nearly paid a high price for the liberty taken. All on a sudden the whole party of women and children set up a dismal piercing shout, and almost at the same instant a numerous and armed party of men were observed rapidly coming down the mountain side upon us. We were few in number, and unfortunately were without our muskets. Sensible that if overtaken, our lives were forfeited, a hasty retreat became necessary. We were chased for several miles; but owing to our superior speed, we at length left our pursuers behind. When out of the reach of danger, we halted, almost dead with fatigue, and divided our spoil. It amounted to a small piece of bread for each; but how sweet that morsel was, no man can tell but he who has been driven to desperate acts by the call of biting hunger. The next day our division took the route of Valdespina, to look out for the enemy on the side of the passes leading upon Coria; but Masséna was in full retreat for Ciudad Rodrigo, and on the 5th he crossed the frontier of Portugal; so that Lord Wellington now stood victorious on the confines of that kingdom, having executed what to others had appeared incredible and vain.
The pursuit was continued. When Masséna reached the Agueda, his cavalry detachments, heavy artillery, and convalescents again augmented his army to more than fifty thousand men; but the fatigue of the retreat and want of provisions would not suffer him to show a front to the allies; he therefore fell back to Salamanca, and Lord Wellington invested Almeida. Our division occupied Gallegos and Espeja, and the rest of the army were disposed in villages on both sides of the Coa. Here Colonel Waters, who had been taken near Belmonte, rejoined the army. His escape was most extraordinary. Confident in his own resources, he had refused his parole; but when carried to Ciudad Rodrigo, he rashly mentioned his intention to the Spaniard in whose house he was lodged. This man betrayed him; but a servant, detesting his master’s treachery, secretly offered his aid, and Waters coolly allowed him to get the rowels of his spurs sharpened. When the French army was near Salamanca, Waters, being in the custody of gendarmes, waited until their chief, who rode the only good horse in the party, had alighted; then, giving the spur to his own beast, he galloped off. This was an act of astonishing resolution and hardihood; for he was on a large plain, and before him and for miles behind the road was covered with the French columns. His hat fell off, and thus distinguished, he rode along the flanks of the troops, some encouraging him, others firing at him, and the gendarmes, sword in hand, close at his heels; but suddenly breaking at full speed between two columns, he gained a wooded hollow, and having baffled his pursuers, evaded the rear of the enemy’s army.