They were executed after the Spanish custom by the garotta. This appeared to me to be a much better mode of fulfilling the last sentence of law, than hanging or the guillotine, and not so disgusting. It was performed as follows: a platform was erected, about three feet high, in the centre of which two upright posts were fixed, with a seat in each, sufficiently elevated for the culprits to sit upon. To either post an iron collar was fitted, made so as to be opened or compressed on one side of the post, by a winch and screw on the opposite.
The fronts in which their necks were placed were so formed, as, by the relaxing or tightening of the screws, to cause a lingering or instantaneous death, I should say, as the sentence might dictate. As soon, however, as the executioner gave the first twist, he rather triumphantly bellowed out, “Viva!” and then finished the principal, who died in a more lingering manner than his second or assistant. Despite the gravity of the melancholy spectacle, I could not but listen with surprise to the attendant priests, who doubtless were Carlists, exhorting the departing spirits of the pair of prisoners, with the words: “Monta a el cielo! Monta a el cielo!” Go up to Heaven! Go up to Heaven![[28]]
Shortly after this our brigade was occasionally sent out to the adjoining villages, for the benefit of the air, and also to prevent the enemy from laying close siege to the town. Indeed, so daring were they, that they frequently at night would come even to the gates of the city, and fire at the first party they saw. This made our mode of warfare different to that to which I had been accustomed to during my former campaigns. Our present plan was to occupy the villages and houses in front of the enemy, and fortify them with loop-holes and barricades, to obviate the necessity of exposing our men to the attacks of an enemy rather more blood-thirsty than the gallant spirits under Soult and his predecessors.
This was a prudent step in General Evans, as the Carlists we found followed up their practice of stealing on us, under cover of the darkness, and sometimes under the fogs, which were very frequent, and so firing on our men. While on this out-post duty desertions became very frequent, which may be attributed to the offer of seven dollars to every foot-soldier, and twelve dollars to every horseman, who would go over, with arms and accoutrements, to Don Carlos. Amongst the number induced to accept those terms was a piper, well known as “Little Jemmy,” of the 6th Scotch, whose Highland costume and uncouth music at all times attracted a crowd of children about him. While on picquet we could hear Little Jemmy, on the Carlist outpost, playing “Over the waters to Charlie;” Jemmy’s music proved attractive, too, for numbers followed him, and with them a bugler of the Rifles. This fellow, for the same ends, also used regularly to sound the wine-call three times a day, as a contrast to our own, which was but once during the same period. Letters also were found at our advanced posts, written in English, and promising a return to England, through France, to those who would leave the ranks of the “foreign invaders,” (as they termed us). These persuasive offers were in too many instances successful.
Soon after, our brigade was removed to a small village, some short distance from Vittoria, near the main road, where I remember the French had made a gallant stand against the Light and third divisions. It was not unfrequent, during the hours of drill, to notice, here and there, bleached skulls scattered about, melancholy evidences of the sanguinary rencontre. I have often unconsciously watched, lest some clumsy fellow should disturb those weather-beaten relics; and turned to the olden scenes when, perhaps, their very owners fought beside me in many a bloody field, or helped to while away the moments by a camp fire with some humorous recital.
On one of these occasions our Bugle-Major, named M’Kay, and formerly a corporal in my own battalion, in which he had served during the whole of the Peninsular war, picked up one of the skulls and holding it in his hand whilst he closely and anxiously examined it, coolly turned to me, saying: “About this spot, Sir, we had several of our company killed, and amongst them my own comrade—poor Allan Cummings! He fell somewhere hereabout—who knows but what this may be his head.”[[29]] The old soldier’s countenance spoke volumes, and he paused for several minutes, as if in earnest converse with the relic; at last he muttered out again, “Well, well! it matters little with the dead; but what remains of you, if this be yours, Allan, shall be made a foot-ball no longer!” saying which he nodded to one of the buglers, and both, with their swords commenced digging a hole, in which they deposited the supposed remains of his old comrade.
M’Kay little dreamt how soon his own and a similar fate awaited him, for he himself was shot some short time after, at Andoun; and singular to relate, one ball struck the Waterloo medal on his breast, and was immediately followed by a second, which finished his career altogether. Poor fellow! it was through my persuasion that he joined the Legion, he being at the time a Chelsea Pensioner.
CHAPTER XXX.
Sudden and unjust dismissal of the officers—Copies from General Orders—Spanish compliments to the French and British Legions—Cordova between two fires—Some French officers resign—Difference betwixt the British and French Legion—Parting moments between a French Colonel and his men—Legion receive orders to proceed to San Sebastian—The sick left behind to guard the sick—March through the country to Santander—Arrival at the Convent of Carbon—New clothing—Recruits, &c.—My opinion of the Legion.
During our stay in and about Vittoria, a practice prevailed of dismissing officers without granting them the right of either a court-martial or a court of inquiry, and in some instances on the mere assertion of the commanding officer, and not unfrequently through the silent medium of the Brigadiers. In the Rifles alone, during the above period, there were not less than one captain (Lomax), two lieutenants (O’Brien and Villars), and one assistant surgeon (Greenwood), dismissed the service under these circumstances. This, whoever it originated from, was excessively cruel, and was particularly aggravated by the General Orders of the time, notifying that all officers who had resigned their commissions, or who had been dismissed from their regiments, or departments, were not entitled to receive rations after their resignations or removals had been notified in General Orders. Passages to England in vessels employed for the service of the British Auxiliary Legion were not to be allowed to such officers, unless directions had been received from head-quarters to that effect. To crown the whole, Colonel Arbuthnot (brother-in-law to General Evans), affixed a paper at the portals of his own door, to the effect that officers anxious to return to England might have a free passage, provided they signed a document, prior to going on board, relinquishing all future claims on the Spanish Government.