I was told the rivers that way were not passable, and we found the whole road almost under water for miles, ankle, and even knee deep, and three rivers to pass. Many mules were upset or stuck fast, and much baggage damaged or lost. I had only one load overset, and that at the edge, and we saved all, and not much damage done. By daylight there was a general halt; no one knew the ford or the road. At last we passed the river a mile above; but then, finding the French had been in the village three miles off the last night, we all turned off by a by-road six miles round, and at last arrived here at Ciudad Rodrigo, miserably cold, with animals knocked up, sore backs, &c., about two o’clock. In the confusion here, at last I got a bad quarter in the same house with Colonel Gordon, Lord Wellington’s aide-de-camp. But I have a place for my animals, and hundreds have no room for animals, or even for themselves. We halt to-day, whether for a longer time I know not. The army is mostly passing the river to-day. We lost many men in the retreat, but a very little money is missing. The sick are numerous. Two officers have died of fatigue on the road, in which dead mules are to be met with in plenty, and some men. To-day we are relating our adventures. We get but little barley for our horses, no hay or straw. The cavalry have been without it for some days; but this is considered a very orderly retreat. Sir Edward Paget accidentally fell into the enemy’s hands near his own division, within six hundred yards of it, between that and another. The French are said to have ninety thousand men, with nine thousand cavalry. They pressed hard until yesterday; they then relaxed when they might have done us most mischief. The roads and weather, I suppose, and the want of food and forage, impeded them. I hope they will now leave us quiet. I am very sorry for Sir Edward Paget on the public account and on my own, as I found him most friendly, civil, and good-natured. This capture is also a triumph to the French.
Malliarda de Sorda, November 26th, 1812.—We are now in our winter quarters, and fill all the villages and places for twenty miles round on the Portugal side of Ciudad Rodrigo, the works of which are still quite out of repair where our trenches were made, as the Spanish new work has all fallen in. Wellington’s head-quarters are at Frenada, an old station; the doctors are all at Castello Bom; and the other civil departments, in which I am included, all at this place, Malliarda de Sorda. We are distant four miles of most infamous rocky road from Frenada, and eight from Castello Bom. This I fear must shut me off from nearly all society, as it would be paying most dear for a dinner at Frenada or Castello Bom, to return in the dark, along roads compared with which those of Ireland or Cornwall are bowling-greens. We are in three wretched villages, in a country like Dartmoor, but more wood near, all rocks around, and stone-wall enclosures, and rocky roads; then woods, with open wastes for twenty miles round. I have a room opening to the street, without ceiling, only open loose pantiles, with holes to let out the smoke of a fireplace without a chimney; a window tinned up by last year’s occupier, except four small panes, two of which are broken; there is a hole in the floor to look through at my five animals and three servants, who all sleep on the straw below me.
The weather for the last three days has been a complete English December, cutting easterly winds; and on the 23rd I will vouch for ice three-quarters of an inch thick. All the Sierras are white with snow. I found Lord Wellington’s secretaries sitting with candles at twelve o’clock in the day, in order to stop their holes and windows with curtains, and burning charcoal fires. We have had every variety of weather here in six weeks: I never remember it colder in England for the time of the year. Here are no books, no women but ladies of a certain description; and as to living, you would be surprised what good living is here, except at Lord Wellington’s table, and about two more, and even at those no port wine, only thin claret, and the country wines and brandy.
At Ciudad Rodrigo there was starvation: no corn, no hay, no straw, no bread, no rum, for three days, only beef and biscuit; at last we got some mouldy biscuit for the animals, which I mixed with carrot, cabbage, and potatoes; everything was devoured. Tea, 22s. and 25s. a pound; butter, 4s.; bread, 1s. 6d. a pound, above 6s. the loaf; no wine or brandy; gin, 12s. the bottle; straw, a dollar for a small bundle, and all sold in a scramble. The truth was, the troops, poor fellows! came through the town quite starving; during the retreat supplies had been mismanaged—regiments were three and four days without rations, and numbers died of absolute starvation, besides the sick. Lord Wellington is, I hear, very angry. Till I saw B—’s mess, &c., I had no notion of the loss in this retreat, and the great suffering of the men and horses. From what I hear, not merely were about one thousand made prisoners, but five or six thousand put for some time hors de combat, by sickness, starvation, and want of horses, &c. The cavalry were too weak to act, mainly from want of food. A great many animals were killed. A treasure-party had a narrow escape: the French were in sight while they were loading, and much baggage was lost. Lord Dalhousie lost almost all; five horses and thirteen loaded mules, with his name at full length upon his baggage—another French triumph! Colonel Delancey lost three horses, taken at Salamanca; and the men suffered shockingly from the wet. The whole was so unlucky; as had the three days’ rain begun at Salamanca, in all probability the French would not have crossed the Tormes and turned our position, and we might still have been there; and had they come three days later, we should have saved our three or four thousand sick. We should, moreover, have had good roads and dry nights, no floods and torrents to wade through by day, nor swamps to sleep on by night; in fact, we should only have lost drunken stragglers. The distress at Madrid, after all the joy and gaiety, was dreadful. When we left the town sixty thousand poor were contending for the remains of our stores—the worst objects had the preference given them. King Joseph’s Palace was left by him entirely furnished; and as Lord Wellington made a point that he should find it again the same, nothing was touched by our army.
The 26th.—To-day is a cheerful, frosty, Christmas-day, and within an English farm-house the whole would do very well: but I go, like others, to bed at seven o’clock, to keep myself warm. General Castanos and his troops are gone back to Gallicia, which is one grievance removed at least. Ballasteros is in disgrace at Ceuta, for disobedience. I fear, upon the whole, the Spanish cause has suffered much by our advance to Madrid and Burgos. The people find we cannot support them, and will be very shy in future; and the misery of the peasantry and townspeople all the time is extreme. There are few deceptions in England like that about the life in Spain.
Frenada, Head-Quarters, December 8th, 1812.—I will now tell you one day’s adventure and how I came here. Two days after writing from Malliarda de Sorda, where I was lonely and heard nothing, I determined to walk over to see how things went on here, and put my papers into my pocket in case I should be able to see Lord Wellington. On my arrival I met the Quarter-Master who managed quarters: he told me he had kept a miserable hole for me, if I chose to move; it was much worse than even my old one, but I instantly said “Yes.” The next person I met was Lord Wellington, and I asked him when he wished to see me, and whether he had any objection to my moving here? He said I might take my choice and take the best of the bad. He then asked whether I had my papers about me? I said, “All.” “Come up,” said he then; and in ten minutes he looked over my papers, which consisted of four sets of charges against officers. These were all settled with a few judicious alterations, in which I entirely agreed. I then came out and wrote them fair in the Adjutant-general’s office, and two were sent off to Lisbon that day.
On my way home I found a Portuguese half drunk, killing his wife. He had bruised her, and laid her head open with a large stone; this occurred on the open road. As I was not in full strength from the effects of a recent accident, I could only gently interfere, and the brute persisted in his cruelty. A servant then came by on horseback who struck him with a good stout stick; but the fellow turned on him, and hit him with a great stone on the head. Thereupon two dragoons, who saw the whole affair, came up, and were going to cut the Portuguese down, when I begged them only to use the backs of their sabres, which they did sharply, and brought him into the village.
I have dined again with Lord Wellington, and at Castello Bom with Dr. Macgregor, whence I walked home with Colonel Colin Campbell at ten at night with a lantern, over rocks and streams. I have also seen Lord Wellington again, twice, about charges; but I understand I am not to go over to some Courts-martial which he has just fixed to take place in ten days, at two divisions, about forty miles from hence, but to stay here. He is shortly, as general report says, going to Cadiz or somewhere. At Lord Wellington’s we had a curious conversation, about himself, Canning and his speeches, and Vetus’s letters in the Times.[1] He joined in and indeed led the conversation, as if talking of persons and things he was not connected with, but seemed not satisfied with the Ministry, though he did not favour the opposition. He said he took in the Courier to know what government meant to do, &c., and as a decent paper to show General Castanos.
It has not lately been very cold; indeed, we had four or five charming days, but the rain has now begun again; but want of all books and society is the worst. The little conversation here beyond the topics of the day is of a review a year old, or a pamphlet. The dress here is a cap made of velvet, cloth, and fur, with a peak over the eyes (that is a foraging cap); the handsomest are all of fur, dark or grey fur, the former the best, with a broad gold band and tassel on the top. With this is worn a dress great coat, or plain, with military buttons, grey pantaloons; this is the costume for dinners. Morning dress—overalls, boots, and white or more generally fancy waistcoats; in winter blue and black velvet, or cloth, with fancy buttons of gold, and narrow stripes of gold as an edging. There are four suttlers here, who sell everything, and we are, all things considered, well supplied. We have one little Exeter-Change shop, but all very dear; pepper and mustard dear, a small sauce bottle 7s., tea three dollars a pound, cheese 4s. a pound, porter 5s. a bottle, gin and brandy 7s. 6d., port wine 6s. 6d., milk 1s. a quart, salt-butter 3s. a pound, sugar 1s. 8d., pork (no other meat) 1s. 8d. a pound, oil 5s. a quart. These are the prices here at head-quarters. Remember that distinction; not the national prices.
Head-Quarters, Frenada, December 31st, 1812.—For the last month I have really been too busy to write. During the last week, before Lord Wellington went away, he kept me hard at work, and left directions to endeavour to get rid of all the cases pending for Courts-martial. About thirty-two cases were made over to me, some of nearly two years’ standing. We have now a Court sitting at Lisbon, one in the second division at Coria, one in the seventh at Govea, and another here which I attend myself four miles off at Fuentes d’Onore. I have sent six to Lisbon, five to the seventh division, five to the second, and intended taking seven myself to Fuentes d’Onore; the rest have in some way been arranged. Hitherto we have made little progress from the sickness, which keeps back witnesses. I have only myself tried one, and hope to finish to-morrow. One charge is of that of a mad Commissary, whose trial was put off last week, on account of his being raving. He wrote to the Adjutant-general a mad letter, amongst other things telling him that he had ten thousand men, that he might drive all head-quarters to “Nebuchadnezzar’s fiery furnace, where,” he added, “Lord Wellington and you may sit at the head of the table.” I served him myself with his notice of trial; he appeared very wild, and I have great doubts how he will behave.