It is long since these transactions took place. But I remember the words of the Captain as if they had been uttered but yesterday; for that which was spoken in former years in the field, has made a singular impression on my mind. As I looked about me, whilst standing enranked, and just before the commencement of the battle, I thought it the most imposing sight the world could produce. Our lines glittering with bright arms; the stern features of the men, as they stood with their eyes fixed unalterably upon the enemy, the proud colours of England floating over the heads of the different battalions, and the dark cannon on the rising ground, and all in readiness to commence the awful work of death, with a noise that would deafen the whole multitude. Altogether, the sight had a singular and terrible effect upon the feelings of a youth, who, a few short months before, had been a solitary shepherd upon the Downs of Dorsetshire, and had never contemplated any other sort of life than the peaceful occupation of watching the innocent sheep as they fed upon the grassy turf.
The first cannon-shot I saw fired, I remember was a miss. The artilleryman made a sad bungle, and the ball went wide of the mark. We were all looking anxiously to see the effect of this shot; and another of the gunners (a red-haired man) rushed at the fellow who had fired, and in the excitement of the moment, knocked him head over heels with his fist. "D—— you, for a fool," he said; "what sort of a shot do you call that? Let me take the gun." He accordingly fired the next shot himself, as soon as the gun was loaded, and so truly did he point it at the French column on the hill side, that we saw the fatal effect of the destructive missile, by the lane it made and the confusion it caused.
Our Riflemen (who at the moment were amongst the guns), upon seeing this, set up a tremendous shout of delight, and the battle commencing immediately, we were all soon hard at work.
I myself was very soon so hotly engaged, loading and firing away, enveloped in the smoke I created, and the cloud which hung about me from the continued fire of my comrades, that I could see nothing for a few minutes but the red flash of my own piece amongst the white vapour clinging to my very clothes. This has often seemed to me the greatest drawback upon our present system of fighting; for whilst in such state, on a calm day, until some friendly breeze of wind clears the space around, a soldier knows no more of his position and what is about to happen in his front, or what has happened (even amongst his own companions) than the very dead lying around. The Rifles, as usual, were pretty busy in this battle. The French, in great numbers, came steadily down upon us, and we pelted away upon them like a shower of leaden hail. Under any cover we could find, we lay; firing one moment, jumping up and running for it the next; and, when we could see before us, we observed the cannonballs making a lane through the enemy's columns as they advanced, huzzaing and shouting like madmen.
Such is my remembrance of the commencement of the battle of Vimiero. The battle began on a fine bright day, and the sun played on the arms of the enemy's battalions, as they came on, as if they had been tipped with gold. The battle soon became general; the smoke thickened around, and often I was obliged to stop firing, and dash it aside from my face, and try in vain to get a sight of what was going on, whilst groans and shouts and a noise of cannon and musketry appeared almost to shake the very ground. It seemed hell upon earth I thought.
A man named John Low stood before me at this moment, and he turned round during a pause in our exertions, and addressed me: "Harris, you humbug," he said, "you have got plenty of money about you, I know; for you are always staying about and picking up what you can find on the field. But I think this will be your last field-day, old boy. A good many of us will catch it, I suspect, to-day." "You are right, Low," I said. "I have got nine guineas in my pack, and if I am shot to-day, and you yourself escape, it's quite at your service. In the meantime, however, if you see any symptoms of my wishing to flinch in this business I hope you will shoot me with your own hand." Low, as well as myself, survived this battle, and after it was over, whilst we sat down with our comrades and rested, amongst other matters talked over, Low told them of our conversation during the heat of the day, and the money I had collected, and the Rifles from that time had a great respect for me. It is, indeed, singular, how a man loses or gains caste with his comrades from his behaviour, and how closely he is observed in the field. The officers, too, are commented upon and closely observed. The men are very proud of those who are brave in the field, and kind and considerate to the soldiers under them. An act of kindness done by an officer has often during the battle been the cause of his life being saved. Nay, whatever folks may say upon the matter, I know from experience, that in our army the men like best to be officered by gentlemen, men whose education has rendered them more kind in manners than your coarse officer, sprung from obscure origin, and whose style is brutal and overbearing.
My observation has often led me to remark amongst men, that those whose birth and station might reasonably have made them fastidious under hardship and toil, have generally borne their miseries without a murmur;—whilst those whose previous life, one would have thought, might have better prepared them for the toils of war, have been the first to cry out and complain of their hard fate.
And here let me bear testimony to the courage and endurance of that army under trials and hardships such as few armies, in any age, I should think, endured. I have seen officers and men hobbling forward, with tears in their eyes from the misery of long miles, empty stomachs, and ragged backs, without even shoes or stockings on their bleeding feet, and it was not a little that would bring a tear into the eyes of a Rifleman of the Peninsular. Youths, who had not long been removed from their parents' home and care, officers and men, have borne hardships and privations such as (in our own more peaceful days) we have little conception of; and yet these men, faint and weary with toil, would brighten up in a moment when the word ran amongst us that the enemy were at hand.
I remember on the march from Salamanca seeing many men fail. Our marches were long, and the weakly ones were found out. It was then pretty much "every one for himself;" those whose strength began to fail looked neither to the right nor the left, but, with glassy eyes, they kept onward, staggering on as well as they could. When once down, it was sometimes not easy to get up again, and few were inclined to help their comrades when their own strength was but small. On this march, I myself (strong as I was) felt completely done up, and fell in the streets of a town called, I think, Zamora, where I lay, like one dead, for some time.