“My attention,” he says, “a short time afterwards, was aroused by an exclamation from the soldier lying next to me,—‘Oh, they are murdering us all!’ Upon looking up, I perceived a number of French grenadiers, under a heavy fire of grape, sword in hand, stepping over the dead, and stabbing the wounded; my companion was treated in the same manner; the sword withdrawn from his body, and reeking with his blood, was raised to give me the coup de grace, when fortunately the uplifted arm was arrested by a smart little man, a serjeant, who cried out, ‘Oh, mon Colonel, êtes-vous blessé!’ and immediately ordered some of his men to remove me into the town. They raised me in their arms, and carried me, without the slightest difficulty, up the breach on to the ramparts of the right flanking tower; here we were stopped by a captain of the grenadiers, who asked some questions, then kissed me, and desired the party to proceed to the hospital. On passing the embrasures of the high curtain, we were exposed to a very sharp musketry fire from the trenches; and here it was that we met the governor and his staff in full-dress uniforms, hurrying to the breach. He asked me if I was badly wounded, and directed that proper care should be taken of me.”
A fortunate mistake thus saved the gallant subaltern,—and a blue uniform and gold bullion epaulette, indirectly became the means of his preservation.
Treated coarsely by a drunken officer, who tore his sword and belt away, Colonel Jones was carried to the hospital. A French soldier was instantly turned out of bed to accommodate the prisoner. He was dressed skilfully by the surgeons, visited by the governor, and received generally the kindest treatment. His wounds were speedily convalescent, and in a few days he was enabled to move into the gallery running round the court-yard of the hospital, which was a house of considerable size, built in the usual Spanish style, having a court-yard in the centre, with a large entrance-door from the street—galleries from each story running round it, into which all the doors and windows of the rooms respectively opened, excepting on the side of the street.
From the height of the buildings the prospect was almost limited to the sky,—while within, the convalescent had scenes presented which generally are not obtruded on those who have themselves been sufferers.
“One day, whilst sitting in the gallery, I observed a table placed in the one below me, and on the opposite side of the court-yard; immediately afterwards, an unfortunate French gunner was laid upon it, and both his arms amputated, his hands having been blown off by an accident in one of the batteries. In the course of the morning, whilst conversing with the surgeon who had performed the operation, he told me that he acted contrary to his instructions, which were, never to amputate, but to cure if possible. And upon asking the reason for such an inhuman order having been issued, his reply was the emperor did not wish that numbers of mutilated men should be sent back to France, as it would make a bad impression upon the people. I replied, ‘You must be a bold man to act in opposition to this order.’ He said, ‘Affairs are beginning to change, and, moreover, circumstances make it necessary that the soldiers should know they will be taken proper care of in the event of being wounded, and not left to die like dogs; we send as many as we can at night to Bayonne by the boats—thus we clear out the hospitals, and are relieved from a great deal of labour.’”
In the course of Colonel Jones’s conversation with French officers, many facts which transpired shewed the terrific outrages on moral principle involved in Napoleon’s theory of making “war support war.” One example illustrates the practice.
“In discoursing about the expeditions that detachments of their troops frequently made from the great stations, for a period of eighteen or twenty days, I inquired how they managed to provision them for so long a time. The answer was, ‘Our biscuits are made with a hole in the centre, and each biscuit is the ration for a day; sometimes twenty are delivered to each individual, who is given to understand that he has no claims upon the commissariat for the number of days corresponding with the number of biscuits he receives.’ I observed it was not possible for the soldier to carry them. ‘We know that very well; but then he has no claim upon the government for that period, and we do not inquire how he lives in the interim!’”
Now mark the consequences of this infernal system, as it was gathered from the same authorities. “They detailed acts committed by their soldiers in Spain, so revolting to human nature, that I dare not commit them to paper; the reader would be disgusted with the recital, and my veracity impeached; and equally incredulous should I have been, had not the narrators declared they had witnessed the scenes which they had described.”
It is certain that during the conduct of the Peninsular campaign, the espionage employed on both sides was most extensive,—and like melo-dramatic farce, occasionally diversified the more serious business of the piece enacting. In the humblest individuals the most effective agents were sometimes found. A barber and a priest enabled Lord Wellington to cross the Douro; and as humble an individual might have opened the entrance into San Sebastian, sealed as it was against a victorious army and means never exceeded by any general who had ever sat down before a fortress,—had fortune only permitted another barber’s agency to have been carried into effect. “From my first entrance into the hospital, I had been attended by a Spanish barber, in whose house a French officer was billeted. As I could speak Spanish fluently, we had a great deal of conversation. He used to communicate to me all he heard and saw of what was passing both inside and outside the fortress. When he learnt that I was an engineer, he offered to bring me a plan of all the under-ground drains and aqueducts for bringing water into the town. Monsieur Joliffe, our attendant, although a good-natured man, kept a sharp eye on the barber; and in consequence, it was difficult for him to give me any thing without being detected. At last, one morning, when preparing for the operation of shaving me, he succeeded in shoving a plan under the bedclothes. I anxiously seized the earliest opportunity of examining it; and, from the knowledge I had previously acquired of the place, soon became acquainted with the directions of the drains, &c. From that moment my whole attention was fixed on the means of making my escape. I knew that the hospital was situated in the principal street, the ends of which terminated upon the fortifications bounding the harbour or the sea. If once I could gain the street, I had only to turn to the right or left to gain the ramparts, and to make my escape from the town in the best manner I could. One evening just at dusk, when the medical men took leave of us for the night, one of them left his cocked hat on my bed. As soon as I made the discovery, I put it on my head, hurried down stairs, and made direct for the great door. I found it so completely blocked up by the guard, that unless by pushing them aside, it was not possible to pass without being discovered; I therefore retreated up stairs in despair, and threw the hat down on the bed. Scarcely had I done so, when in rushed the doctor, inquiring for his lost chapeau.”
As I have alluded to the unscrupulous means resorted to to obtain information, I may apprize you here, that it was a matter of surprise to all who were not aware of the extensive espionage employed on both sides, how accurately Lord Wellington and the French marshals to whom he was opposed were acquainted with the objects and the capabilities of each other. At Lisbon, many persons in immediate connection with the Regency were more than suspected of holding a correspondence with the French; and their treachery was encouraged by the culpable misconduct of the Portuguese government in not punishing criminals whose treasons had been established beyond a question. The English newspapers were regularly transmitted from Paris by Napoleon; and they teemed with intelligence mischievously correct, and that too, from the head-quarters of the Allied army;—and though a circumstance of rare occurrence—if an intimation of what he intended to attempt escaped from Lord Wellington’s lips to the Spaniards with whom he was in communication, through the indiscretion of these individuals it was sure to reach the enemy. He says, writing to his brother,—“I apprized —— of my intention and plan for attacking Ciudad Rodrigo, and him alone, the success of which depends principally upon the length of time during which I can keep it concealed from the enemy. Some Spanish women at Portalegre were apprized of the plan by him, and it must reach the enemy!!! Yet —— is one of the best of them.”