In crossing the place where the 71st had been encamped, a party of the enemy pitched a tent belonging to that corps, and, forming in a ring about this trophy, made the hills echo with their shouts of triumph.
The 82nd and other regiments coming up at that period soon obliged them to change the notes of their song, and put an effectual damper on their pastime. The Brigade of General Barnes and some German troops, arriving opportunely to support the 82nd, made a desperate charge upon them, and following up this bold attack drove them completely across the pass, and back to the ground where they had been posted.—No further efforts were made on their part to renew the contest.—Had there been sufficient time the 7th division would have totally expelled them from the mountains, but daylight failing brought to a conclusion one of the most sanguinary and hard fought battles recorded in the annals of the Peninsular war.
The 50th lost a considerable number of men in this action; and the following officers were among the killed and wounded: killed—Captain Wm. Ambrose, Lieutenant W. Deighton, Grenadiers, Ensign Williams, Ensign White: wounded—Lieutenant Colonel C. Hill,[31] Captain Charles Grant, Light Company; Roger North, Lieutenants McDonald, Patterson, Nowlan and Jones; Ensigns Collins and Bateman.
In consequence of the right of the line at Roncesvalles having been carried by a superior force, and also by reason of the loss sustained, the 2nd and 7th divisions, cooperating with the rest of the army, retired on the night of the 25th, and morning of the 26th of July, and after passing along the road that leads through the Valley of Bastan, they formed on the hills in front of Erruita. Here the British made a determined stand, beat the enemy back, and followed up the blow with so much vigour that he was completely routed, driven through all the passes, and forced once more to take refuge in his own country.
CHAPTER XIX.
The writer of this narrative being wounded, he joined the long train of maimed and mutilated aspirants for honour and glory, who wended their way slowly and with painful steps to the City of Vittoria, where the principal hospital stations for the army were established. The cavalcade was not of that description which will excite any pleasurable emotions in the mind; those of despondency were the most prevailing, which the departure from our brother soldiers was not in any degree calculated to diminish. However, this being all the "fortune of war," we jogged along patiently, some on mules, others on waggons, and not a few on the humble jackass, forming on the whole a procession of so motley and varied a character that, by the time we reached our journey's end, we were not unlike Sir John Falstaff's recruits, with whom he was ashamed to enter Coventry. We cut a most interesting appearance, some with heads tied up, and some with limbs, as we made our entré at a funereal pace, exhausted and chopfallen, loaded with as plentiful a supply of fame as the most zealous amateur could desire. Nothing could exceed the anxiety depicted in the countenances of those who had been in Vittoria, since the battle there. So many vague reports had been circulated with regard to the army, that they were unacquainted with the true state of things, and hastened to meet the travellers, as they approached the town, and with deeply interested looks enquired the fate of their brave companions in the field. Accompanied by our friends, who kindly sympathized with us, each of us repaired to his proper quarters. Mine were at the house of a respectable looking man, who, though a Spaniard, proved by his manner and conduct that in his heart he was a Frenchman. To his spouse, a dame not unworthy of so treacherous a helpmate, our application for any means of comfort or accommodation was of no avail, and beyond the luxury of a hard mattress, upon a harder floor, with bare walls to look at, neither I, nor any of the luckless cavaliers that were billetted under the roof of these inhospitable people, could obtain any thing whatever.
Los Franceses were the favourites; and as for the English, our patron would have rejoiced at their expulsion from the country. Doubtless, this partisan held a different style of language, when he was informed, that his very particular friends were completely ousted from every part of Spain. In a front room of this mansion, the occupant was Lieut. Alexander H. Pattison of the 74th regiment, who was severely wounded at Vittoria, and whose society and conversation contributed greatly to relieve the tedium of our solitary lodging. Pattison was above seven years eldest lieutenant in the 74th, and became, in the course of time, Lieut. Colonel of the 2nd West India Regiment, in the command of which he died at the Bahamas.
Captain Gough, of the 68th, was quartered in the next house, where we passed some pleasant days, while comparing notes on the subject of our late adventures. Poor Gough I never saw again. He was a passenger from America, (where his regiment was quartered), in the Union Packet, which was shipwrecked off the coast of Ireland, and was among those who unfortunately perished.
Vittoria is a well built and populous city, with regular streets, and a handsome Square. The country around is abundant in all the productions of so fine a climate, and did not seem to have experienced any of those evils incident to war. The inhabitants in general treated the British officers with civility, but many were inwardly our enemies. Some time after our arrival, however, they thought it better policy to affect a degree of reverence for us, and make wondrous professions, of the sincerity of which we had certain doubts.
It was during our stay here, that the Honorable Captain Gore, of the 94th regiment, was put to death by a party sent to force an entrance into his quarters, in order to convey from thence a lovely and interesting damsel, whom that officer had taken under his protection. Of this tragical event there has been so many different versions, that, if I were to relate the particulars as reported at the time, the account would probably vary from others that were published. I shall therefore forbear from any detail of the painful and melancholy narrative. The gallant Captain was certainly imprudent in resisting the Spanish authorities. Knowing as he did the prejudices of the country, the results of the ill-fated attachment might have easily been foreseen; for, thus to get involved so seriously with a fair Senorita could not fail to exasperate and excite the vengeance of her family.—The unfortunate affair was truly to be deplored on every account. Gore was a fine promising young man, and his inamorata (since entombed within a convent), was beautiful.