The following interesting anecdote is thus told by Mr. Grattan:—“Nearly at the opening of the battle of Salamanca, a considerable body of the enemy’s tirailleurs pressed forward to that part of the ridge occupied by the third division, and immediately in front of the 88th regiment, the light infantry company of which, commanded by Captain Robert Nickle, was ordered to drive back this force: he did so in the most gallant manner; but the enemy could ill brook such a defeat, the more annoying, as it was witnessed by the whole division, as also by a considerable portion of one of the enemy’s corps d’armée. A reinforcement, commanded by an officer of distinction, rushed forward to redeem the tarnished honour of their nation, while some of the battalion-men of the Connaught Rangers, seeing the unequal contest their light infantry company were about to be engaged in—for the French were upwards of one hundred to sixty of ours—hastened to take a part in the fray. The detachment of the 88th lay behind a low ditch, and waited until the French approached to within a few yards of them; they came on in gallant style, headed by their brave commanding officer, who was most conspicuous, being several paces in front of his men. The soldiers of the two armies, posted at a distance, and lookers-on at this national trial, shouted with joy as they beheld their respective comrades on the eve of engaging with each other. But this feeling on the part of the French was of but short duration, for at the first fire, their detachment turned tail, and were what they themselves would term ‘culbutés,’ leaving their brave commandant, with many others, mortally wounded behind. Captain Robert Nickle ran up to his bleeding opponent, and rendered him every assistance in his power. He then advanced alone, with his handkerchief tied on the point of his sword, which he held up as a token of amity, and, thus re-assured, some of the French soldiers returned without their arms, and carried away their officer with them. They were delighted with the considerate conduct of Captain Nickle, and embraced our men on parting.”—Reminiscences of a Subaltern.
“The terms of mutual respect in which the British and French soldiers held each other, and the friendly intercourse it frequently led to, have been noticed by every writer on the Peninsular war. Nor was this confined to out-post duty only—the soldiers engaged on which seemed by a tacit agreement, and as a point of honour perfectly understood on both sides, to have agreed to avoid the unnecessary destruction of life; and, as far as consistent with duty, perhaps a little beyond what was strictly so, to testify the respect with which they had inspired each other. The officers of the two armies were also not unfrequently thrown into situations where they had the opportunity of evincing similar feelings. Of this an instance comes to the writer’s[B] recollection, as happening, among others, at the battle of Fuentes d’Onoro. On the morning of the 5th, when the French made their attack upon the right of our position, the writer of this note was at the time in conversation with an officer of a picket of the enemy in his front, where there was no prospect of the lines being immediately engaged; seeing the state of things which then ensued, after a mutual exchange of civilities, both parties retired to their respective posts, and were soon after engaged in warm conflict.”
The following anecdote is highly honourable to the Duke of Belluno:—When Victor entered the town[C] he found some of the wounded, French and English alike, lying on the ground in the Plaza. After complimenting the English, and observing that they understood the laws and courtesies of war, he told them there was one thing which they did not understand, and that was how to deal with the Spaniards. He then sent soldiers to every house, with orders to the inhabitants immediately to receive and accommodate the wounded of the two nations, who were lodged together, one English and one Frenchman; and he expressly directed that the Englishmen should always be served first.
[91] “The Bivouac.”
[92] “As the weather was dreadfully hot, and it was impossible to know how long we should occupy this ground, orders were given to bury the men who had fallen the night before and in the morning attack, who were lying around the hill interspersed with its living defenders.
“The entrenching tools were thus employed; and it was curious to see soldiers burying their fallen comrades, with cannon-shot falling thickly around and in the midst of them, leaving it a probable chance that an individual might actually be employed in digging his own grave.”
[93] “The enemy instantly rallied, followed them, and were so confident of victory, that their officers were heard to exclaim, ‘Allons, mes enfans, ils sont touts nos prisonniers.’”
[94] “The Bivouac.”
[95] “On comparing a great number of marches, it appears that an army of forty thousand men requires about eight hours to traverse, in average weather, a distance of fifteen miles, which may be called an average military day’s march.”—Thiery.