The light division and cavalry were ordered to cross the river at two separate fords, upon the enemy’s left. The fifth division and artillery were destined to attack the bridge, and our division to cross at a ford about a mile above the town. The light division crossed first, and commenced the attack, but they were warmly received, and the action was for some time doubtful. Our division now crossed and attacked their centre; while at the same time the fifth division crossing the bridge, ascended the heights on the right flank of the enemy, and the cavalry appeared in rear of their left; they made a precipitate retreat, leaving a howitzer in possession of the light division, and about two hundred killed on the ground, six officers, and three hundred prisoners.
As we descended the hill towards the river, we passed a convent or chapel, half way down; at the door lay an old man, who had been killed with a musket shot, and a genteelly-dressed Portuguese was standing beside him; he spoke to us as we passed, but we had no time then to pay any attention to what he said. We learned after, from the men who were following us with the baggage, that he had been hung up by some of the French soldiers, because he would not, or could not, show them where he had hid his money. His old father, who was lying at the door, had been shot, and his mother’s throat cut. His sisters had been first violated by the monsters, and then cruelly used: one of them had her eyes blackened, and the other her arm broken. His life was saved by the French General, who came up just as he had been suspended, and ordered him to be cut down. Such were the tender mercies of the French soldiery!
When we had gained the edge of the river, the French columns were posted on the height above us. We passed the river under a heavy fire, and proceeded to ascend the hill. We could now see that more of our army had crossed, both to our right and left. As we advanced up the hill, we formed line. General Picton rode up in front of us, with his stick over his shoulder, exposed to the heavy fire of the enemy, as composedly as if he had been in perfect safety. ‘Steady, my lads, steady!’ said he; ‘don’t throw away your fire until I give you the word of command.’ We were now close on them; the balls were whizzing about our ears like hailstones. The man before me received a shot in the head, and fell. ‘Why don’t they let us give the rascals a volley,’ said some of the men. The left of our brigade, which was nearest them, now opened a heavy fire; and by the time the line was all formed, the French had taken to their heels. At this moment a severe rain storm commenced, and darkened the air so much that we lost sight of them completely; when the sky cleared up, they were discovered, about a mile forward, scrambling their way over hedge and ditch without any regularity. The ground which they had occupied now lay before us, strewed with the dead and wounded; and the Portuguese regiment belonging to our division were busy stripping them naked. In this barbarous action, however, they were joined by very few of the British. The division to our right and left had by this time succeeded in turning the flanks of the French army; and they were now retreating in great confusion.
After waiting under arms for some time, we were ordered to encamp on the ground we then occupied, where we remained during that night.
FOOTNOTES:
[11] Guarda lies on the top of a high hill; we were much fatigued in ascending it, and entered the town with empty stomachs, but we were agreeably surprised to find that the French had left their dinners for us ready cooked, as in their haste they had left them on the fire in the different houses where they had been lodged. In one house where some of their officers were quartered, and had been obliged to retreat from table, after it was laid for dinner, some wag placed a mule’s head in the centre, with a label in its mouth on which was written ‘Pour Mons. Jean Bull’
THE
WAR IN THE PENINSULA:
A CONTINUATION OF RECOLLECTIONS OF
THE EVENTFUL LIFE OF A SOLDIER.
CHAPTER I.
The night we passed in the encampment at Sabugal was uncommonly dark, and at intervals the rain fell in torrents; fires had been kindled in the hollow trunks of some large chestnut trees, which, burning up as high as the branches, illuminated them to the very top. The flickering, lurid glare which these fiery columns threw on the naked bodies of the slain, the indistinct objects in the back ground, and the groups of soldiers which flitted around them, presented a scene at once sublime and picturesque; it looked like the midnight orgies of some supernatural beings.