Drove down the foe. The vanquished victor saw,
And thought of Talavera, and deplored
His eagle lost. But England saw, well pleased,
Her old ascendency that day sustained;
And Scotland, shouting over all her hills,
Among her worthies ranked another Graham.”
GREAT PRIVATION.
The brilliant success gained on the heights of Barossa was but the prelude of other victories. The star of Napoleon, so long in the ascendant, had begun to decline in the horizon. Obliged to draw off many of his troops, those that remained felt the want of his guiding hand. Division reigned in the councils of his generals; and the British leader, ever ready to take advantage, and ever on the watch for opportunity, saw his favorable moment, and followed it up. The French had retreated from Portugal, followed at every step by the army of the English. After the battle of Barossa, Graham had withdrawn from the command of our army, and joined that of Wellington, while Sir Thomas Picton took his place. We remained for a number of days near our position, while these changes were taking place, and then orders arrived that we should proceed at once to the mountains of the Sierra Morena, to assist in harassing the retreat of the French. We had scarcely commenced our march when our provisions began to fail, owing to the conduct of the Portuguese government, who would not supply their troops with provisions; and so they were unable to continue the pursuit, while numbers were perishing for want of food. Our generals could not see their allies suffering thus, and our own supplies were shared with them, and we were all put upon short allowance. Half a pound of bread, and half a pound of salt pork, was all that we received for a day’s provision. And we were ascending mountains covered with woods and deep forests, infested by guerillas, who often fell upon and murdered our men, if they strayed away from the ranks. To prevent this was impossible; for, if there were provisions in the country, men in our starving condition would not fail to obtain them; but scarcely anything could be found, at this season. The French army were also suffering for want of food, and, as they preceded us in their retreat, they either devoured or destroyed everything that could sustain life. The poor peasants on their route fled from their homes, and shrunk equally from French and English, for they well knew that either would equally deprive them of the little they possessed. The sufferings of the peasantry were truly terrible. In the third day of our march, a scene occurred which I shall never forget. We were slowly toiling up a huge mountain, so exhausted, from fatigue and want, that we could hardly proceed. When about half-way to the summit, we perceived before us a large house. Some of our men hastened to it at once, hoping to procure some provision. The slight fastenings of the door soon yielded to their eager haste, and they were about to rush in, when their steps were arrested by the misery the scene presented. The floor was covered with persons in a state of actual starvation. Thirty women and children had already expired; and, scattered around among the corpses, lay fifteen or sixteen more wretched beings, still breathing, but unable to speak. Hungry as we were, the hearts of the soldiers were moved at the scene, and our next day’s provision was cheerfully contributed to rescue them from death. But this kindness could only delay their fate. They were too weak to seek for more food; they had scarcely strength to eat the little we could offer them; and it is more than probable that every one perished.
The next day my comrade, who had been fast failing, declared himself unable to proceed. He was a fine fellow,—one that I had known in Ireland, and to whom I was much attached. Feeble as we were, we could not leave him behind, and we carried him a short distance; but he soon died. Permission was given us to carry him a little way from the camp to bury him. We hollowed out a shallow grave, wrapped him in his blanket, and left him to his fate. Near the spot where we interred him was a small house, which we entered, and were fortunate enough to obtain a little wine. While in the house, we heard a scream, as of fear. We hastened out, and saw several of our soldiers running swiftly towards the camp, from the place where we had interred our comrade. They had dug him up, for the purpose of robbing him of his blanket. As they were ripping it open, the knife entered the flesh, and he began to struggle. It was this that had so frightened them. We went to the poor fellow, finished removing his blanket, and found that he was still alive. Want and fatigue had produced a state of insensibility resembling death, from which he had been aroused by the pain of his wound. We shared with him the little wine we had obtained, which so revived him that he was able to accompany us back from his own funeral. He soon after recovered, and returned home to Ireland.
SINGULAR INCIDENT.