It was on the 21st of August, that we commenced fighting the battle of Vimiero.
The French came down upon us in a column, and the Riflemen immediately commenced a sharp fire upon them from whatever cover they could get a shelter behind, whilst our cannon played upon them from our rear. I saw regular lanes torn through their ranks as they advanced, which were immediately closed up again as they marched steadily on. Whenever we saw a round shot thus go through the mass, we raised a shout of delight.
One of our corporals, named Murphy, was the first man in the Rifles who was hit that morning, and I remember more particularly remarking the circumstance from his apparently having a presentiment of his fate before the battle began. He was usually an active fellow, and up to this time had shewn himself a good and brave soldier, but on this morning he seemed unequal to his duty. General Fane and Major Travers were standing together on an early part of this day. The general had a spy-glass in his hand, and for some time looked anxiously at the enemy. Suddenly he gave the word to fall in, and immediately all was bustle amongst us. The Honourable Captain Packenham spoke very sharply to Murphy, who appeared quite dejected and out of spirits, I observed. He had a presentiment of death, which is by no means an uncommon circumstance, and I have observed it once or twice since this battle.
Others besides myself noticed Murphy on this morning, and, as we had reason to know he was not ordinarily deficient in courage, the circumstance was talked of after the battle was over. He was the first man shot that day.
Early on the morning of the battle, I remember being relieved from picket, and throwing myself down to gain a few hour's repose before the expected engagement. So wearied was I with watching that I was hardly prostrate before I was in a sound sleep,—a sleep, which those only who have toiled in the field can know. I was not, however, destined to enjoy a very long repose before one of our serjeants, poking me with the muzzle of his rifle, desired me to get up, as many of the men wanted their shoes repaired immediately. This was by no means an uncommon occurrence, and I would fain have declined the job, but as several of the Riflemen who had followed the serjeant, soon afterwards came round me and threw their shoes and boots at my head, I was fain to scramble on my legs, and make up my mind to go to work.
On looking around, in order to observe if there was any hut or shed in which I could more conveniently exercise my craft, I espied a house near at hand, on the rise of a small hill. So I gathered up several pairs of the dilapidated boots and shoes, and immediately made for it. Seating myself down in a small room as soon as I entered, I took the tools from my haversack and prepared to work; and as the boots of the Captain of my Company, were amongst the bad lot, and he was barefooted for want of them, I commenced with them.
Hardly had I worked a quarter of an hour, when a cannon-ball (the first announcement of the coming battle) came crashing through the walls of the house, just above my head, and completely covered the Captain's boot (as it lay between my knees) with dust and fragments of the building. There were only two persons in the room at the time, an old and a young woman, and they were so dreadfully scared at this sudden visitation, that they ran about the room, making the house echo with their shrieks, till at length they rushed out into the open air, leaving me alone with the boots around me on the floor.
For my own part, although I was more used to such sounds, I thought it was no time and place to mend boots and shoes in, so, being thus left alone in my glory, I shook the dust from my apron, gathered up the whole stock-in-trade from the floor, and hastily replacing my tools in my haversack, followed the example of the mistress of the mansion and her daughter, and bolted out of the house. When I got into the open air, I found all in a state of bustle and activity, the men falling in, and the officers busily engaged, whilst twenty or thirty mouths opened at me the moment I appeared, calling out for their boots and shoes.—"Where's my boots, Harris, you humbug?" cried one. "Give me my shoes, you old sinner," said another. "The Captain's boots here, Harris, instantly," cried the Serjeant. "Make haste, and fall into the ranks as fast as you can."
There was, indeed, no time for ceremony, so, letting go the corners of my apron, I threw down the whole lot of boots and shoes for the men to choose for themselves; the Captain's being amongst the lot, with the wax-ends hanging to them (as I had left them when the cannon-ball so unceremoniously put a stop to my work), and quickly shouldering my piece, I fell into the ranks as I was ordered.
Just before the battle commenced in earnest, and whilst the officers were busily engaged with their companies, shouting the word of command, and arranging matters of moment, Captain Leech ordered a section of our men to move off, at double quick, and take possession of a windmill, which was on our left. I was amongst this section, and set off full cry towards the mill, when Captain Leech espied and roared out to me by name to return.—"Hallo! there, you Harris!" he called, "fall out of that section directly. We want you here, my man." I, therefore, wheeled out of the rank, and returned to him. "You fall in amongst the men here, Harris," he said. "I shall not send you to that post. The cannon will play upon the mill in a few moments like hail; and what shall we do," he continued, laughing, "without our head shoemaker to repair our shoes?"