Recollections of the eventful life of a soldier

by Joseph Donaldson

The light brigade of our division was now withdrawn, and the 71st and 79th regiments remained as a picquet in it during the night; next morning it was again occupied as before. On the fourth, both sides were busily employed burying the dead and bringing in the wounded; French and English promiscuously mixed, and assisted each other in that melancholy duty as if they had been intimate friends. So far did this friendship extend, that two of our lads who spoke French, went up that night after dark to the enemy’s picquet, and having conversed and drank wine with them, returned unmolested to their company. During this day the French Generals reconnoitered our position, and next morning, (the fifth), they made a movement to their left with two strong columns; this caused a corresponding movement in our line, and it was scarcely made, when they attacked our right, composed of the seventh division, with all their cavalry, and succeeded in turning it; but they were gallantly met by some squadrons of our dragoons, and repulsed. Their columns of infantry still continued to advance on the same point, and were much galled by the heavy fire kept up on them by the seventh division; but in consequence of this movement, our communication with Sabugal was abandoned for a stronger position, and our army was now formed in two lines, the light division and cavalry in reserve, this manœuvre paralyzed their attack on our line, and their efforts were now chiefly confined to partial cannonading, and some charges with their cavalry, which were received and repulsed by the picquets of the first division in one instance; but as they were falling back, they did not perceive the charge of a different body in time to form, and many of them were killed, wounded, and taken prisoners. Colonel Hill, who commanded the picquets, was among the latter; the 42d regiment also, under Lord Blantyre, gallantly repulsed another charge made by the enemy’s cavalry. The French then attempted to push a strong body of light infantry down the ravine to the right of the first division, but they were driven back by some companies of the guards and 95th rifles.

While on the right this was going on, the village of Fuentes was again attacked by a body of the imperial guard, and, as on the third, the village was taken and retaken several times. At one time they had brought down such an overwhelming force, that our troops were fairly beat out of the town, and the French formed close column between it and us; some guns which were posted on the rise in front of our line, having opened upon them, made them change their ground; and the 88th regiment (Connaught Rangers) being detached from our division, led on by the heroic General M’Kinnon, (who commanded our right brigade,) charged them furiously, and drove them back through the village with great slaughter. Some time previous to this, General Picton had had occasion to check this regiment for some plundering affair they had been guilty of, and he was so offended at their conduct, that in addressing them, he had told them they were the greatest blackguards in the army;—but as he was always as ready to give praise as censure, where it was due, when they were returning from this gallant and effective charge, he exclaimed, ‘Well done the brave 88th!’ Some of them, who had been stung at his former reproaches, cried out, ‘Are we the greatest blackguards in the army now?’ The valiant Picton smiled, and replied, ‘No, no, you are brave and gallant soldiers; this day has redeemed your character.’

At one time during the contest, when the enemy had gained a partial possession of the village, our light troops had retired into a small wood above it, where they were huddled together without any regularity; a French officer, while leading on his men, having been killed in our front, a bugler of the 83d regiment starting out between the fire of both parties, seized his gold watch; but he had scarcely returned, when a cannon shot from the enemy came whistling past him, and he fell lifeless on the spot. The blood started out of his nose and ears, but with the exception of this, there was neither wound nor bruise on his body; the shot had not touched him. The phenomenon here described has been the subject of much discussion among medical men, some attributing it to the shot becoming electrical and parting with its electricity in passing the body; while others maintain, that the ball does strike the individual obliquely, and although there is no appearance of injury on the surface, there always exists serious derangement of the system internally.

We had regained possession of the village a short time after, and got a little breathing time; a few of our lads and some of the 79th were standing together, where a poor fellow lay a few paces from them weltering in his blood. As he belonged to the 79th, they went over to see who he was; the ball had entered the centre of his forehead, and passed through his brain, and to all appearance he was completely dead; but when any of the flies which were buzzing about the wound, entered it, a convulsive tremor shook his whole body, and the muscles of his face became frightfully distorted; there could scarcely be imagined anything more distressing, or more appalling to the spectator.

Within the walls of the old chapel, where our men and the French had got under cover alternately, as they were pursuing or pursued, there lay a mixture of various nations, wounded, dying, and dead, and presented a sight which no language could describe, raving, groaning, calling for assistance and drink. He must have had a hardened heart who could have beheld it without feeling deeply. One noble-looking fellow of the imperial guard lay wounded through both legs, and one of his arms shattered; he had been plundered and stripped half naked. One of our light company, of the name of James Cochran, as much distinguished for bravery in the field as for a mild and humane temper, (for they are not incompatible,) seeing the poor fellow lying in this plight, unable to help himself, and the flies irritating his wounds—threw his own blanket over him—brought some water, and left it and some bread with him; but what was his mortification on returning that way, to find that he was again plundered of all, and left as before. The poor fellow, however, seemed to feel the most lively gratitude for what Cochran had done, and wished to force some money on him, which had escaped the search of his plunderers.

After the various taking and retaking of the village, night again found us in possession of it. On the 6th no attempt was made to renew the attack, and, as on the 4th, the army on each side were employed in burying the dead, and looking after the wounded. On the 7th we still remained quiet; but on this day the whole French army were reviewed on the plain by Massena. On the night of the 7th, some companies of our regiment were detached on picquet to the ravine on the left of the town, and during the night I was placed one of the outpost sentries. The French picquets occupied the opposite side, and the distance between us was but trifling. The night was very dark, and the place where I was posted was amongst bushes and trees, near the river’s edge. All was still save the river gurgling over its rocky bed, or when a slight breeze set the leaves in motion, and the qui vive of the French sentinels could be distinctly heard.

I had been some time posted, ruminating on the awful responsibility attached to my post, as it was probable the enemy might make an attack during the night. I was straining my eyes through the thick darkness towards the spot where I imagined the French sentry was placed, at the same time eagerly listening. In the midst of this anxiety I was alarmed by the noise of something rustling among the bushes near the river. The thought struck me instantly that it must be the French picquet advancing on my post; my first impulse was to fire in the direction of the noise, but I recollected that there was a possibility of giving a false alarm, and I felt myself in a strange dilemma—I could not fire until I ascertained that it was an enemy, and before that could be done I might be surprised and killed. The noise ceased, but still I was all attention, for this did not give me confidence; sticking my ramrod in the ground, I put my ear to it, but could hear nothing. I now assumed more courage, and almost persuaded myself I had been deceived. At that moment, a burst through the bushes in my front, accompanied by a horrid yell, robbed me of all presence of mind. In the desperation which fear sometimes inspires, I dashed forward against the object of my alarm with my charged bayonet, and plunged it in the foe; he fell, and for a few seconds I had not power to move. Silence was now only broken by the smothered groan of my dying victim; and recovering myself a little, I stooped to ascertain whether it was really a French grenadier I had slain, but found it was only a poor ass’s colt which had strayed from its dam, and browsing about had thus been the unconscious cause of my alarm.

On the 8th the French sentries were withdrawn at day light, the main body of the enemy having retired during the night, to the woods between Fuentes and Gallejos. On the 9th they broke up, and retired from their position; and on the 10th they had re-crossed the Agueda without having accomplished the relief of Almeida. On the morning of the 11th, however, about one o’clock A.M., the garrison having blown up part of the fortifications, made their escape past the troops who had blockaded them, in consequence of the darkness of the night—some said the carelessness of the regiments on that duty. One regiment in particular was blamed, but the excuse might be more properly sought for in the masterly dispositions which the governor (General Brenier) had made, both for the escape of the garrison, and the subsequent retreat.

CHAPTER II.

We were again quartered in Fuentes, but the place was sadly altered; the inhabitants had fled, many of the houses were destroyed, and all of them plundered; although the dead had been in general buried, there still remained some bodies lying about swelled and blackened by the heat of the sun; the ground was strewed with uniform caps and clothing, and the streets were dyed with the blood of the combatants; the whole place wore an air of desolation and wretchedness. We were only a few days there when we received orders to march along with the 7th division, for the purpose of laying siege to Badajos, a fortified town on the Spanish frontier, in the province of Estremadura. The distance between Fuentes and Badajos might be about 40 leagues, Portuguese, (150 miles;) we proceeded by Alfeyates, Penamacore, and Castello Branco, where we were quartered in a Franciscan convent for two days. From thence we marched to Villa Valhe, where boats were ready for us to cross the Tagus. This was a romantic spot: the side on which we lay previous to passing was a plain, the opposite one a mountain, which rose abrupt and precipitous, clothed with trees and bushes to the top, throwing its dark shade on the bosom of the river which rolled along at its base, deep, dark, and rapid. Here it was reported Lord Wellington had lost his two orderly dragoons some days before. He had received information that the French army under Marshal Soult was coming down in great force on Beresford’s army, and he was so anxious to get forward, that when he came to the river, and found the bridge of boats not thrown across, he plunged in followed by his orderly dragoons, (certainly a most hazardous attempt;) the current was so strong that the dragoons with their horses were carried away and drowned, his lordship only escaping by the superior strength of his horse.