I have no more time, as the bag is closed. God bless you,
Charles.
* * * * *
At Sea, 1809.
My dear B.—As my daily adventures just now would be rather disagreeable than interesting, I shall give you some account of the latter operations in Spain. As much as I can vouch for will be included in a relation of my own movements.
When the army arrived at Astorga, Sir John Moore sent me to La Puebla, the capital of Sanabria, a mountainous district in the kingdom of Leon bordering on Portugal. The place is in the direct but worst road from Benavente to Orense, and as it had been determined that a column should take a better though longer road to Vigo, the object of my mission chiefly was to give immediate intelligence to Sir John Moore should the enemy show any disposition (by taking the shorter route from Benavente or elsewhere to Orense) to cut off the retreat of the column marching on Vigo.
I was apprised of the time when our army would reach the different stages of its retreat, that I might judge where to rejoin it, having executed the service for which I was detached. Being satisfied on this head, I set out for Orense, making long journeys and sometimes travelling by night, the roads very bad and mountainous, rendered almost impassable by snow, but the scenery in many parts extremely beautiful and romantic, particularly in the neighbourhood of Monterey, an old mountain castle of, I believe, no military importance.
From the intelligence I procured at Verin, immediately below it, I thought it better to avoid Orense and proceed to Vigo by the shortest road, crossing the river Minho (over which there is a bridge at Orense) by a ferry.
The Minho at this place is a very rapid, turbid stream, carrying down with great velocity huge timbers and fragments torn by the waters from the mountain sides, or hurled from their tops by the fury of the winter blasts. The scenery is extremely rich and beautiful, having an inexpressible charm viewed from the stupendous heights, immediately impending the river, over which the road winds.
The rugged steepness of the roads greatly lengthens the leagues, and the journeys, which one laid down from the experience of other parts of Spain, are obliged to be most teasingly divided in Galicia, particularly irksome to me on account of the uncertainty there was of the light in which our retreat would be viewed by the barbarous, arrogant, and ignorant, though not ungenerous, Spaniards, for few of the most enlightened would be capable of exculpating me in any cause of anger they might imagine against my country. Having performed a hundred miles of this journey, I unexpectedly fell in with the column that marched upon Vigo, and having communicated with General Alton, I was confirmed in my determination to proceed to Vigo, as all communication between him and the main body of the army had for some time ceased. As it appeared that the enemy had not got scent of this small column, and there was not the smallest probability of anything interesting taking place at the embarkation at Vigo, it became a very earnest object with me to reach Corunna, where it did not seem likely that affairs would have so insipid a complexion. I was therefore very well pleased to find that my friend Burgoyne had been sent to Vigo, and was to wait there until the embarkation was effected. At this time it was pretty confidently believed at headquarters that I had fallen into the hands of the enemy. This left me fully at liberty to proceed with the transports to Corunna, and Sir Samuel Hood, whom I had formerly known in the Baltic, was so kind as to offer me a passage in the Barfleur. It would be needless to describe the anxiety I felt respecting what might be the state of affairs at Corunna, where I was sensible that the army must have been some days. I supposed and hoped that some natural advantages would enable them to repel for so long a time the forces of France, but this might not be the case, and when we arrived that beautiful army might be no more. I got into the harbour in the Minerva frigate on the evening of the 14th January. I went immediately to Sir John Moore, who received me most kindly, and notwithstanding the cruel anxiety he must have suffered, still supported that most engaging exterior so endearing to his friends and so prepossessing to strangers on whom he did not think proper to frown. I then sought out my friends and brother officers, and was greeted by them as one risen from the dead. I, too, felt inexpressible pleasure at getting again amongst my companions, and in feeling satisfied by the tranquillity at Corunna that things were not going on badly; to find my friend Lefebure, too, one of the party, and almost reestablished in health (for owing to excessive anxiety and fatigue in his attendance on the army of Blake, he was attacked and nearly carried to the grave by a fever) gave me the highest pleasure.