To this long and lively description by an anonymous Peninsular veteran (probably from the Light Division) of the way in which Wellington’s army moved, we need only add a few words by way of caution and supplement. The smoothly-working regularity which it described could not always be secured in actual practice. There were marches where the system could not be carried out, by reason of hurry, unexpected changes of direction, and the vagaries of the weather. When some sudden movement of the French forced the Duke to throw his army on a route that he had not intended to take, the elaborate provision of officers going before to act as harbingers could not be carried out. When a division halted, late at night, at some unforeseen destination, there could be neither the selection of billets, nor (in the open field) the erection of huts described above. All had to be done more or less haphazard in the dark. In hot or stormy weather stragglers were numerous, and the “ticket” routine broke down altogether. The description above will do for long orderly movements like the advance on Madrid in 1812, or the march to Vittoria, in 1813, but it fails to reproduce the impression of confusion and misery caused by the perusal of any good narrative of the Burgos retreat, or of the disorder in the hasty marches to intercept Soult on the eve of the battles of the Pyrenees. A quotation from a diarist in the ranks,[269] giving a picture of the first-named march may suffice to give the reverse of the shield.
The Retreat from Burgos
“Retreating before the enemy at any time is a grievous business, but in such weather as that of November, 1812, it was doubly so. The rain pouring down in torrents drenched us to the skin, the road, composed of clay soil, stuck to our shoes so fast that they were torn off our feet. The nights were dismally dark, the cold winds blew in heavy gusts, and the roads became gradually worse. After marching in this state for hours, we halted in a field by the roadside, piled our arms, and were allowed to dispose of ourselves as we best could. The moon, wading through dense masses of clouds, sometimes threw a momentary gleam on the miserable beings huddled together in every variety of posture, and trying to rest or to screen themselves from the cold. Some were lying on the wet ground rolled in wetter blankets, some placed their knapsack on a stone, and sat on it, with their blankets wrapped about them, their heads resting on their knees, their teeth chattering with cold. Long before daylight we were again ordered to fall in, and proceeded on our retreat. The rain still continued to fall, the roads were now knee-deep in mud. Many men got fatigued and could not follow: the spring waggons could not hold them all; they dropped behind to fall into the hands of the French cavalry. By some mismanagement the commissary stores had been sent on ahead with the baggage, toward Rodrigo, and we were without food. The feeling of hunger was very severe: some oxen that had remained with the division were killed and served out to us, but our attempts to kindle cooking fires with wet wood were abortive. Sometimes we just managed to raise a smoke, and numbers would gather round a fire, which then would go out, in spite of their efforts.
“A savage sort of desperation took possession of our minds: those who lived on most friendly terms with each other in better times now quarrelled with each other, using the most frightful imprecations on the slightest offence. A misanthropic spirit took possession of every breast. The streams from the hills were swollen into rivers, which we had to wade, and vast numbers fell out, among them even officers. It was piteous to see the men, who had long dragged their limbs after them with a determined spirit, finally fall down in the mud unable to proceed further. The despairing looks that they gave us, when they saw us pass on, would have pierced the heart at any other time; but our feelings were steeled, and we had no power to assist, even had we felt the inclination.
“At last the rain somewhat abated, but the cold was excessive: at the nightly halt many men threw themselves down in the mud, praying for death to relieve them from their misery. And some prayed not in vain, for next morning, starting in the dark, we stumbled over several who had died in the night. Setting my foot inadvertently on one, I stooped down to feel, and I shall never forget the sickening thrill that went to my heart, as my hand touched his cold, clammy face. This day we halted earlier than usual, and the weather being clearer, got fires lighted; but there was nothing to eat save acorns from a wood in which we encamped—we greedily devoured them, though they were nauseous in the extreme. Next day’s sufferings were of the same nature—only more aggravated, till at last we neared Rodrigo in the dark, halted, and heard at last the well-known summons of ‘Turn out for biscuit,’ ring in our ears. We had got to food at last. Instead of the usual orderly division each man seized what he could get, and began to allay the dreadful gnawing pain which had tormented us for four days of unexampled cold and fatigue.”
CHAPTER XVI
IMPEDIMENTA: THE BAGGAGE—LADIES AT THE FRONT
The Baggage Animals
The train of Wellington’s army was very heavy. In addition to the long droves of mules and ox-waggons which carried public stores, there was a very large accumulation of private baggage. The field equipment of officers—especially of officers of the higher ranks—strikes the modern student as very heavy, and was much commented on by French observers at the time. “To look at the mass of impedimenta and camp-followers trailing behind the British,” says Foy, “you would think you were beholding the army of Darius. Only when you have met them in the field do you realize that you have to do with the soldiers of Alexander.” The cause of this accumulation was partly a survival of the lax customs of the eighteenth century, but it resulted still more from the character of the country over which Wellington’s host moved. In the interior of Spain or Portugal absolutely nothing was to be procured. The simplest small luxuries, tea, sugar, coffee, were ungettable, save in the largest towns; to renew clothing was equally impossible. He who required anything must carry it with him. It was not like campaigning in France, Belgium, Germany, or Italy. At the commencement of his term of command Wellington laid down the rule[270] that no private baggage was to be carried upon carts: “those who have baggage to carry, must be provided with mules and horses.” This order is repeated again and again during later years.[271] A regular scale of the amount of horses and mules allowed to officers of different rank was shortly produced. Two subalterns must share one sumpter-beast between them, a captain was allowed a whole mule or horse, and so on, in a mounting scale.[272] But as early as September 1, 1809, it would seem that a more liberal allowance was made legal. In a “general order” of that day we get an elaborate table of rations of forage for all ranks, from the commander-in-chief downwards. While subalterns are allowed one ration each, the number rises enormously for the seniors, a captain commanding a company is set down for five rations, a major for seven, a lieutenant-colonel in charge of a battalion for ten, the Adjutant-General for twenty, etc., etc. This was a far too liberal allowance for the senior ranks, and led to an accumulation of beasts, both riding horses and pack-mules, far surpassing what was reasonable. To enable them to equip themselves for field service, all officers (whether staff or regimental) when ordered for the first time to join the army, were allowed to draw 200 days “bât, baggage, and forage money.” This presumably would go towards the purchase of their animals. The forage allowed was 14 lbs. of hay or straw of the country, and 12 lbs. of oats, or 10 lbs. of barley or Indian corn. When English hay was procurable (as at Lisbon) only 10 lbs. of it might be issued instead of the 14 lbs. of native stuff. On this system the captain would provide himself with a riding horse, generally a small Portuguese nag, and have a mule for his baggage. The subaltern must walk if he kept a mule: but it seems that very soon the juniors also took to riding. At any rate, lieutenants and other juniors often appear with a riding horse. Nothing is more common in a diary than to find, on his first arrival in Portugal the young officer procuring himself not one but two beasts, generally a nag and a mule. Sometimes he brought out a horse of his own from England.[273] More usually he bought—
“A mule for baggage, and a ‘bit of blood’”[274]