He, as he had been directed, moved his brigade to a ford of the Coa, and was there waiting further orders, when a staff officer rode up, and hastily demanded why he had not attacked?
Beckwith was an actor of the immortal Nelson's principle—that if a commander is in doubt he never can do wrong in placing himself alongside of the enemy. We instantly uncorked our muzzle-stoppers, off with our lock-caps, and our four companies of riflemen, led through the river, (which was deep and rapid,) followed by the 43d, driving in the enemy's picquet which defended it. The officer commanding, left his sky-blue cloak fluttering in the breeze on the top of a furze bush, and I felt a monstrous inclination to transfer it to my own shoulders, for it was an article of which I happened, at that moment, to be in especial want; but as it was the beginning of a battle in place of the end of one, and I had an insurmountable objection to fight under false colours, I passed it by.
As soon as we gained the summit of the hill it became as clear as the mist that we were regularly in for it. Beckwith, finding himself alone and unsupported, in close action, with only hundreds to oppose to the enemy's thousands, at once saw and felt all the danger of his situation; but he was just the man to grapple with any odds, being in his single person a host—of a tall commanding figure and noble countenance, with a soul equal to his appearance—he was as Napier says, "a man equal to rally an army in flight."
Our four companies had led up in skirmishing order, driving in the enemy's light troops; but the summit was defended by a strong compact body, against which we could make no head; but opening out, and allowing the 43d to advance, they, with a tearing volley and a charge, sent the enemy rolling into the valley below, when the rifles again went to work in front, sticking to them like leeches.
The hill we had just gained became our rally-post for the remainder of the day, and, notwithstanding the odds on the side of the enemy, they were never able to wrest it from us. Our force was as well handled as theirs was badly, so that in the successive and desperate encounters which took place, both in advance and in retreat, we were as often to be seen in their position as they were in ours.
Beckwith himself was the life and soul of the fray; he had been the successful leader of those who were then around him in many a bloody field, and his calm, clear, commanding voice was distinctly heard amid the roar of battle, and cheerfully obeyed. He had but single companies to oppose to the enemy's battalions; but, strange as it may appear, I saw him twice lead successful charges with but two companies of the 43d, against an advancing mass of the enemy. His front, it is true, was equal to theirs, and such was his daring, and such the confidence which these hardy soldiers had in him, that they went as fiercely to work single-handed as if the whole army had been at their heels.
Beckwith's manner of command on those occasions was nothing more than a familiar sort of conversation with the soldier. To give an idea of it I may as well mention that in the last charge I saw him make with two companies of the 43d, he found himself at once opposed to a fresh column in front, and others advancing on both flanks, and, seeing the necessity for immediate retreat, he called out, "Now, my lads, we'll just go back a little if you please." On hearing which every man began to run, when he shouted again, "No, no, I don't mean that—we are in no hurry—we'll just walk quietly back, and you can give them a shot as you go along." This was quite enough, and was obeyed to the letter—the retiring force keeping up a destructive fire, and regulating their movements by his, as he rode quietly back in the midst of them, conversing aloud in a cheerful encouraging manner—his eye all the while intently watching the enemy to take advantage of circumstances. A musket-ball had, in the meantime, shaved his forehead, and the blood was streaming down his countenance, which added not a little to the exciting interest of his appearance. As soon as we had got a little way up the face of our hill, he called out, "Now, my men, this will do—let us shew them our teeth again!" This was obeyed as steadily as if the words halt, front, had been given on parade, and our line was instantly in battle array, while Beckwith, shaking his fist in the faces of the advancing foe, called out to them, "Now, you rascals, come on here if you dare!" Those he addressed shewed no want of courage, but, for a while, came boldly on to the tune of old trousers,[C] notwithstanding the fearful havoc we were making in their ranks; but they could not screw themselves up the long disputed hill—the 52d (two battalions) had, by this time, come into the line of battle, and were plying them hard on the right, while our rifles were peppering them on their front and left, and, as soon as they came near enough, another dash by Beckwith, at the head of the 43d, gave them the coup de grace. The fate of the day was now decided—the net which had been wove in the morning, and which the state of the weather had prevented being brought to a crisis as soon as was intended, now began to tighten around them—the 5th division crossed by the bridge of Sabugal, and the 3d, (I believe,) by a ford to the right—and Reynier, seeing no hopes of salvation but by immediate flight, very speedily betook himself to it, and, I believe, saved all that did not fall on the field of battle—a piece of good fortune of which his conduct that day shewed him undeserving, for, had not the extraordinary state of the weather caused the delays and mistakes which took place on our side, he could scarcely have taken a man out of the field.
[C] Old trousers was a name given by our soldiers to the point of war which is beat by the French drummers in advancing to the charge. I have, when skirmishing in a wood, and a French regiment coming up to the relief of the opposing skirmishers, often heard the drum long before we saw them, and, on those occasions, our riflemen immediately began calling to each other, from behind the different bushes, "Holloa there! look sharp! for damn me, but here comes old trousers!"
While standing in our last position, awaiting the attack in our front, I was much amused in observing, on the opposite height, the approach of our 3d division, unnoticed by the enemy—a French column occupied the top of what seemed to be almost a precipice overlooking the river; but I observed some of the 60th rifles clambering up the face of it on all fours, and, to see their astonishment, when they poked their heads over the brink, to find themselves within a couple of yards of a French column! They, of course, immediately concealed themselves under the bank; but it was curious to observe that they were unseen by the enemy, who were imprudent enough either to consider themselves secure on that side, or to give all their attention to the fight going on between their comrades and us; but certain it is they allowed the riflemen to gather there in formidable numbers. As we advanced immediately, the intervening rising ground prevented my seeing what took place, but on crowning the opposite height, which the French had just evacuated, we found, by the bodies on the ground, that they had just received a volley from a part of the third division—and one of the most deadly which had been fired that day.
Our cavalry had been astray during the fight, but they afterwards made two or three ineffectual attempts to break in upon the enemy's line of retreat.