In the company which I had the honour to command in 1813, there was a man named Walsh, whose character was so tainted, that not a soldier in the company would associate with him. Whether designedly, or through neglect, I will not pretend to determine, but on inspecting his arms at Puebla, I found his bayonet bent like a sickle. Enraged at his conduct, I reprimanded him sharply; but instead of expressing regret for the offence, Walsh turned his head as I was moving off, and most unfeelingly said, "What am I to do with the bayonet, Sir? if we charge to-day I will not be able to thrust it into any Frenchman's guts." This ruffianly speech caused a thrill of horror to run through the company like a shock of electricity. On our march from Puebla towards the scene of action, Walsh's whole conversation was nothing but a connected chain of blasphemous sentences. Oath succeeded oath, with such frightful rapidity, that his companions at length became horror-struck. In this state of mind he went into action on the lower part of the position, where the shot and the shell plunged around him without producing any visible amendment. The regiment proceeded to the heights, Walsh all the way pursuing a similar course, venting curses on all and every thing around, above, and below. When we had arrived within about two hundred yards of the 50th, and before any one had heard the sound of a ball at that point, the unfortunate wretch, in the very act of uttering a dreadful torrent of blasphemy, fell a lifeless corpse, his head having been perforated by a musket ball. Walsh's sudden and striking exit from this to another world, furnished conversation to his companions during the remainder of the day. His death was viewed by them as a striking manifestation of the divine wrath for his numerous and heinous offences against the Author of his being.
Between the second and third attacks on the heights of Puebla, the pay-sergeant of the company, accompanied by a corporal and private, requested my permission to bring Walsh's knapsack from the rear, and dispose of its contents by auction, for behoof of his family. Highly approving of this admirable display of feeling on the part of the company, I waited on Colonel Cameron, and solicited permission for the sergeant to go and take the necessaries from the dead man's back. Quite delighted with the idea, the Colonel readily gave his sanction. In a few minutes the auction began; the biddings went on with life, till the whole was disposed of. By this praise-worthy act thirty-one shillings were added to the balance due to the deceased, and remitted to the widow. Two officers of the 50th, who were standing beside me during the sale, declared, with tears in their eyes, that it was one of the most singular and beautiful exhibitions they had ever witnessed. Singular it undoubtedly was; for in the annals of warfare it was perhaps the only public auction ever attempted amidst the roaring of artillery and vollies of musketry.
A young lad belonging to the sixth company committed a singular act of cowardice at Vittoria. On ascending the heights, he, under some frivolous pretence, fell out, but forgot to rejoin his comrades. In a few days thereafter, notice arrived from an hospital in the rear, that he had received such a bad wound in the hand that amputation had been performed at the wrist. On investigating into the matter, it turned out, that in order to avoid the chance of being hit in action, he had actually inflicted a wound on himself which might have proved mortal. Thus, to avoid the possibility of dying the death of the brave, he imprinted the stamp of the coward on his person, and suspended round his neck a load of ignominy and dishonour which can only be hid in the grave.
When inspecting the arms of the first company, a young lad who had never been in action before, stepped up to the captain of it, and informed him he was so unwell that he would be obliged to fall out. On inquiring the nature of the complaint, Captain C. received for answer, "A sair wame, Sir." Conceiving that all was not right, Captain C. was induced to walk with him to Colonel Cameron, who, on taking the sick man by the shoulder, and causing him to face the heights of Puebla, pointed to some French sentries on their summit, and then inquired if he saw them. Replying in the affirmative, the Colonel then said, "Well, my man, those fellows you see on the top of the hill are the best doctors in the world for complaints like your's," and raising his voice he continued, "and by —— if I live you shall consult them this day!" Covered with shame, poor B. rejoined his companions, moved forward with them in very depressed spirits, but during the action was one of the keenest spirits in the fray, and ever after his Captain had more difficulty in restraining his courage than he had in rousing it into action at Vittoria. This little incident shews most unequivocally, that in going into action for a first time, young soldiers should invariably be incorporated with old ones. For had this youth been allowed to retire, under the feigned plea of sickness, he would have remained a coward ever after.
A French colonel, commanding a portion of their light troops on the heights of Puebla, finding the ground unfavourable for equestrian exercise, sent his charger to the rear a little before the action began. Being a very corpulent man, his running pace was that of a duck, which of all others is the worst calculated to carry a person out of the clutches of a light bob. Seeing there was no possibility of making his escape, the Colonel wheeled round, and surrendered himself a prisoner. Perceiving him covered with a profuse perspiration, our lads were ill-mannered enough to indulge in a hearty laugh at his expense. Seeing he was the butt of the group, the worthy representative of Sir John Falstaff very good humouredly remarked to an officer of the 92d regiment on surrendering his sword, "O God! O God! what a fool was I to part with my horse. For the want of it now I have become your merryman."
Colonel Cadogan, of the 71st, who fell on the heights of Puebla, was leading a charge of his light troops when he was hit. The Colonel had turned round to cheer on his followers, and had just repeated, "Well done, well done, brave Highlanders!" when the intrepid leader, mortally wounded, fell from his horse into the arms of a kindred spirit, Captain Seton, commanding the light company 92d Highlanders, son of the late Sir William Seton of Pitmidden, Aberdeenshire.
Yes, tho' too soon attaining glory's goal,
To us his bright career too short was given;
Yet, in a glorious cause, his phœnix soul
Rose on the flames of victory to heaven.
CHAPTER XX.
In the afternoon of the 22d, the second division moved from its bivouac in front of Vittoria, passed through Salvateira, and towards the "wee short hour ayont the twal," encamped in a wood a few miles in front of it. During the march we were every moment presented with numerous evidences, animate and inanimate, of the total wreck of King Joseph's royal fortunes. Around, and on every side of us, lay men and horses, dead and dying, waggons of all descriptions, some overturned and emptied of their contents, others on their wheels, and filled with letters unopened and unheeded, although written to please the taste of every one in the army, being addressed to officers and soldiers of all ranks, from Jourdan down to the youngest drum-boy, on subjects grave, gay, and voluptuous. On passing a tremendous pile of letters, I presented a handful of them for acceptance to the Marquis of Almeida; but after a long tirade against Bonaparte, he politely declared that he would not soil his fingers with them. The Marquis' hatred to the French was only equalled by that of Prince Blucher.
On passing Salvateira, our men were repeatedly invited by a dragoon, dressed in the uniform of a hussar, to join him in a full-flowing can, and he would "pay the piper." Our lads having expressed some doubts as to their new friend's ability to perform his promise, the latter instantly pulled from his boot a doubloon, and holding it up, told the sceptics that his boots were filled with similar pieces. How the cash came into the possession of the hussar it is for him to say; but I think we may infer that he obtained it without running any great hazard of losing a life, which, as a soldier, was worth nothing.