1809
The original destination of the Eighty-Eighth was Cadiz, off which city it arrived on the 6th of March, 1809; but the Spanish Government refusing to receive any British troops into the fortress, it was ordered to Lisbon, where it landed on the 13th, and being brigaded with the Eighty-Seventh, was marched, early in April, to Coimbra. About this time, two of its non-commissioned officers, Serjeant-Major Nicholas Torrence, and Quarter-Master Serjeant William Hill, were promoted to commissions in the Portuguese army, of which the Colonel of the Eighty-Eighth (Lieutenant-General Beresford) was Commander-in-Chief, with the rank of Field Marshal.
When the combined British and Portuguese army moved from Lisbon to the north of Portugal to expel Marshal Soult from Oporto, the Eighty-Eighth was one of the regiments attached to the Portuguese army under Marshal Beresford, destined to act upon the Upper Douro and in the province of Tras os Montes, and intercept the retreat of the French. The march upon Amarante, the passage of the Douro, and the occupation of Oporto, are justly ranked high among the many brilliant achievements of the Duke of Wellington: nevertheless, the very nature of the service in which the Eighty-Eighth was engaged unquestionably tended to put to severe trial the discipline of every corps employed in it. The rapidity and length of the marches; the very unfavourable state of the weather; the obstacles presented by the nature of the country in the Tras os Montes, where the men were frequently obliged to use torch-light to avoid the risk of being dashed to pieces in the craggy paths they were obliged to traverse; the hospitality of the peasantry, who, totally ignorant of the imperious demands of military duty, were loud in commiserating and anxious to alleviate the hard fate of their deliverers thus compelled to march through their country in such inclement weather, and at such unseasonable hours; all offered temptations to straggling, which it is not at all wonderful that the men in many instances yielded to. The best-regulated army during a campaign, even if carried on under the most favourable circumstances, always becomes more or less relaxed in its discipline; and when it is considered that the wreck of the Eighty-Eighth regiment, after its capture at Buenos Ayres, was made up by drafts from the second battalion, that a few short months, only, were allowed it to recruit and re-organize before it was again employed in Portugal, it may be matter of regret, but certainly not of surprise, that it did not form an exception to the general rule. In fact many men were left behind, and some period of repose was necessary to remedy these irregularities, but that repose could not be obtained; for towards the end of June the whole disposable British force was marched into Spain, and on the 27th and 28th of July was fought the battle of Talavera de la Reyna.
The post of the Eighty-Eighth, on the first day, was in the wood on the river Alberche, and its conduct was much praised by Colonel Donkin, who commanded the brigade. It retired in line under a heavy fire, protecting by its steady front the advanced troops, who were greatly out-numbered by the enemy. During the retreat the soldiers were forbidden to fire unless they could cover their man. Corporal Thomas Kelly, of the fourth company, was the first who pulled a trigger; going up to the Adjutant, Lieutenant Stewart, and pointing out a French officer, he said, “Do you see that officer standing by the olive-tree in front of me? He is a dangerous man, and has been giving directions to his soldiers that won’t sarve us; four of the company have been hit already, but if you will allow me I think I could do for him.” “Try, then, Kelly,” was the reply;—he fired; the French officer fell, and the men, disconcerted by the loss of their leader, ceased to harass the regiment, which continued its retreat through the wood, and took post upon a hill on the left of the allied army, which was the key of the position. The hill was steep and rugged towards the enemy, but on the other side it was of smoother ascent; the French, however, resolved to attack this post.
The sun was set, and the shades of night had gathered over the hostile armies, when suddenly a body of French troops was seen advancing boldly to the attack, and in an instant the regiments were engaged in a sharp conflict. Colonel Donkin’s brigade beat the enemy in front, and the Twenty-Ninth Regiment, by a gallant charge, drove back part of the Ninth French Regiment. The enemy returned to the attack; the fighting became vehement; “and in the darkness the opposing flashes of the musketry showed with what a spirit the struggle was maintained: the combatants were scarcely twenty yards asunder, and for a time the event seemed doubtful; but soon the well-known shout of the British soldier was heard, rising above the din of arms, and the enemy’s broken troops were driven once more into the ravine below.”[4] The fighting now ceased; and the bivouac fires blazed up on both sides.
At day-break on the 28th the combat was renewed; a burst of artillery rattled round the height and swept away the English by whole sections; the roar of musketry succeeded, and the hill sparkled with fire. At length, unable to sustain the increasing fury of the British, and having lost above fifteen hundred men in the space of forty minutes, the French retired in disorder to their own lines.
About two o’clock the enemy again advanced; their commander “gave the signal for battle, and eighty pieces of artillery immediately sent a tempest of bullets before the light troops, who, coming on with the swiftness and violence of a hail-storm, were closely followed by the broad black columns in all the majesty of war. The English regiments, putting the French skirmishers aside, met the advancing columns with loud shouts, and breaking in on their front, and lapping their flanks with fire, and giving them no respite, pushed them back with a terrible carnage.”[5] The attack was, however, soon renewed; a fierce conflict raged along the whole front, and the Eighty-Eighth nobly maintained its post on the hill on the left; it had no opportunity of gaining distinction in close fight, but displayed great steadiness in sustaining a heavy fire of artillery. The French at length relaxed their efforts, the fire of the British grew hotter, and their loud and confident shouts—sure augury of success—were heard along the whole line; finally the French retreated without venturing another attack.
The loss of the Eighty-Eighth in killed and wounded amounted to six officers and one hundred and thirty non-commissioned officers and privates. The officers were Captains Blake, Graydon, and Whittle, and Lieutenant M‘Carthy killed; and Captain Browne and Lieutenant Whitelaw wounded.
In the movement upon Almaraz the Eighty-Eighth joined Brigadier-General Craufurd’s brigade. In this position, very appropriately named by the soldiers “Hungry Hill,” it suffered much from the tardy and defective supply of rations; a situation the more trying to the men from its contrast to the exuberant plenty they had recently enjoyed in the north of Portugal. Subsequently, the regiment occupied, for some time, the town of Campo Mayor, where Lieutenant-Colonel Alexander Wallace joined and took the command of the battalion, which received, also, a detachment of three hundred men from the second battalion. Advantage was immediately taken of the regiments becoming, even for a short time stationary, to commence a system of drilling necessary for the re-establishment of that discipline which, during the incessant activity of the preceding months, had unavoidably been somewhat neglected. The task required great zeal and firmness, activity and energy; but Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace showed himself fully competent to it, and had the satisfaction and honour of rendering his corps, what it afterwards was acknowledged to be, one of the finest service regiments in the Peninsular army. At Campo Mayor, also, the Eighty-Eighth set the example, which was speedily followed by other regiments, of forming a regimental mess; indeed, a marked friendliness and cordiality reigned throughout the corps.
About this time Major Vandeleur died,[6] and Colonel Donkin, who commanded the brigade, quitted the army, addressing previous to his departure a letter to Colonel Wallace, from which the following are extracts:—