For what the men said gave us little concern; but to be taxed and taunted for cowardice by the Spanish ladies was most galling. Even my handsome dark-eyed Clementeria, sister to the Guerilla lover, who seemed so much attached to me, and with whom I spent many a moonlight night serenading to the Spanish guitar, and who first taught me to use the castanets in the Spanish dance—even she, with all her pretended love, refused me a buss at our last moment of parting, though I used all my eloquence, welding the Spanish, French, and English together in pleading my cause. All had no effect on the hard-hearted Mosa. Her last words were: “Begone, you cowardly English, you have not the courage to fight the enemy of our country: those who have butchered my dear father and brother,” were her last words. After a harassing march through a mountainous country we joined the remainder of our army at Salamanca. There we took up our quarters for a few days in a convent, which exhibited such a loathsome picture of filth as to be almost unendurable. In consequence of our men having torn up a part of the balustrades for firing, a young officer of the third battalion fell down a height of fifty feet, and was killed on the spot.
On the second morning after our arrival we again proceeded towards Rodrigo. The rain fell in torrents, and from the heaviness of the roads, which were in many places a foot deep in mud, most of our men lost their shoes, and were obliged to march barefooted. Among this number I was unfortunately included. When we had reached our halting-ground for the night, our prospect was most desolate. Wet to the skin—without fire or shelter—and at the same time possessed of a ravenous appetite, with nothing to satisfy it, formed one of the disagreeables so often attendant upon our life in the Peninsula—to say nothing of incessant duty and fatigue. It was these sufferings, in fact, I am convinced, that oftentimes rendered our men so callous about death, at different periods during the war, as some men, from the privations they endured, wished to be shot, and exposed themselves in action purposely.
On our halt on the above night, the first thing I did was to take off my jacket and shirt, and after ringing about half a gallon of water out of them, I replaced them upon my back to dry as they might. Most of our men had employed themselves in cutting down boughs of trees to keep themselves out of the mud; but it was some hours before we could obtain that greatest of luxuries, under our present circumstances, a good fire. Still we had not a morsel to eat after the day’s fatigue—no rations having been issued—and our men suffered from all the pangs of cold and hunger. Fortune, however, during the evening favoured a few of us. Towards the middle of the night one or two of our men brought intelligence that several cars laden with spirits and biscuit for the Spanish army were stuck fast in the road, and could not proceed onwards. The temptation to our hungry maws could not be resisted; leaving our fires, and getting up to the cars, screened by the darkness of the night, we managed to get a portion both of biscuit and aguardiente; but the Spanish guard, discovering our fellows, commenced firing on them: this was quickly returned, and several, I believe, were shot; indeed, the firing continued all night, which alarmed the chief part of our army. Had the offenders been discovered, it would not have been difficult to have foretold their fate, as the Duke’s orders were particularly strict against plunder, (if such this might be called, for after all, the whole fell into the hands of the French next morning, as the carts were then able to be moved). For my own part, such were my feelings this night, that I believe I should have expired, but for the liquor I had drank.
With all their hunger, however, there existed among the men a sympathy for the officers, which, considering their distance, was rather remarkable; several of the most haughty of the latter gladly received little kindnesses from the soldiers; and if the noble lord be now living, he may chance to recollect an instance connected with it. Lord Charles Spencer, then a youth about eighteen years of age, suffered dreadfully from the hunger and fatigue of this retreat; trembling with cold and weakness, he stood perched upon some branches, that had been cut down for fuel, the tears silently starting from his eyes through the pain he experienced, while thus sharing in the common lot, anxiously watching a few acorns, which to stay the pangs of hunger he had placed in the embers to roast. I dare say his Lordship had never known till then the joys of poverty—a good appetite! Nor will he, I expect, forget how willingly the rough soldiers flew to offer him biscuits, which their own sufferings could not withhold from one so tenderly and delicately reared; but his Lordship was very much liked amongst us, and, no doubt, it did many a veteran’s heart good to hear his thanks, and see the eagerness with which he devoured the offering. These are times when Lords find that they are men—and men, that they are comrades.
Before daylight we pursued our route, the rain continuing to fall in torrents, while the state of our regiment was pitiable. To add to our comfort, the enemy were close upon our heels: this night we spent something like the last—wet, cold, and hungry. On the following morning we were obliged to continue our retreat rather precipitately, as the shots of the French, who were in great force, came rattling in among us. During the morning the enemy’s cavalry succeeded in getting through a wood, and managed to cut off the baggage of the seventh division, then in front of ours. Among some captives the enemy made on this occasion were several children in panniers carried by donkeys. One Irishwoman, in particular, I remember seeing, whose grief seemed inconsolable for the loss she had sustained in that of her child. In a few days, however, the French, desiring to be as little encumbered as ourselves with children, sent them back with a flag of truce. This was followed by a most interesting scene, as the different mothers rushed forward to clasp their darlings in their arms.
This day we were hard pressed by the enemy’s advanced-guard, and two of our companies, the one in which I served being one, were ordered to cover the retreat of our division. The French, confident in their numbers, pressed us vigorously, and it was with difficulty we could check their advance. While hotly engaged skirmishing, I was about taking possession of a tree, when I beheld a poor woman at the foot of it, who, being unable to keep up with the regiment, had sank down exhausted. Poor soul! she seized my hands, and begged of me to assist her; at the same moment the enemy’s balls came rapping into the tree that only partially screened us. I was obliged, however, to leave her, as there seemed every prospect of most of us being cut off; the “assembly” sounded, and away we dashed, “devil take the hindmost,” in upon the battalion. Here our illustrious chief, who was generally to be found where danger was most apparent, seeing us come puffing and blowing up to our column, called out to us, in a cheering voice: “Be cool, my lads; don’t be in a hurry!” But, in faith, with all possible respect for his Lordship, we were not in greater haste than the occasion demanded, as the French were upon us, and we were obliged to dash down the sides of the hill, where we halted for a moment, and his Lordship also, and then ford a river. While engaged in crossing the stream, that was much swollen by the late rains, a round-shot from the enemy, who were now peppering away at us, took off the head of a Sergeant Fotheringham, of our battalion, and smashed the thigh of another man. On gaining the other side of the stream we turned to give a salute in return, but owing to the wet our rifles were unserviceable.
We remained that night stationary on the banks of the river, exposed to all the delights of cold, hunger, and fatigue. These feelings were not improved by a course of shelling that the enemy did us the honour to indulge in at our expense. But, as I have remarked, the sufferings of our men were such at this period that many of them considered death a happy relief. The morning at length dawned upon our half-famished persons, but brought no alleviation to our miseries. The rain still continued to come down in torrents. Pursuing our route, we arrived at Ciudad Rodrigo, and took shelter under its walls, where we found some sheds used as stables for the Spanish cavalry. The moment I entered, the first thing that caught my eye was some Indian corn-leaves, which I considered a lucky chance, and instantly throwing myself on them, wet as I was, soon fell into a sound sleep, the only rest I had had since we left Salamanca. However, in the morning when I awoke I found myself in a glow of heat, and covered with perspiration, and on attempting to rise found myself as if paralyzed, and could not move. Calling some of the men to assist, they were astonished at the steam that emitted from under me like smoke. I then found my bed had been hot horse-dung, slightly covered by the Indian corn-leaves. The doctor being sent for, ordered me instantly to be carried into the town, where with hot baths and a salivation in a few weeks I was able to join my regiment.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Head-quarters at Grenalda—Don Julian Sanchez, the celebrated Guerilla Chief—Weakness of our numbers—Incorporation of Spaniards into our regiments—A thief—Punishment of, and opinion of the men—General orders for a collection among the men and officers to relieve Russian losses—A ball, in which thousands were present—Campaign of 1813 commenced—The Life Guards and the Blues join us—The French retreat to Burgos—Secret expedition for bread—Our surprise—Retreat—General Sir Lowry Cole—His temple spectacles made use of to reconnoitre—Our escape—A few remarks—Three alternatives—A cavalry affair on the 18th June—German brotherhood again.
Towards the end of November our battalion again became stationed at its old quarters, in the little village of Allamada. We obtained here fresh clothing, certainly not before it was wanted; green having become by far the least conspicuous colour in the regiment, while so various had been the expedients resorted to for obtaining a substitute for shoes, that the fresh supply from England was welcomed with no common joy. It was quite amusing to see how our fellows enjoyed their clothing, strutting about as proud as peacocks among the Spanish peasant girls, in whose estimation they doubtless conceived they should be considerably advanced.