This was a trying and pitiable situation for troops to be placed in, but it in no way shook the courage or confidence of the soldiers; so far from being dispirited or cast down, the men were cheerful and gay, the soldiers of my corps (the 88th) telling their officers that if the French dared to charge, every officer should have a nate horse to ride upon.
General Picton conducted himself with his accustomed coolness; he remained on the left flank of the column, and repeatedly cautioned the different battalions to mind the quarter distance and the “tellings off.” “Your safety,” added he, “my credit, and the honour of the army, is at stake: all rests with you at this moment.” We had reached to within a mile of our entrenched camp, when Montbrun, impatient lest we should escape from his grasp, ordered his troopers to bring up their right shoulders and incline towards our column: the movement was not exactly bringing his squadrons into line, but it was the next thing to it, and at this time they were within half pistol-shot of us. Picton took off his hat, and holding it over his eyes as a shade from the sun, looked sternly, but anxiously at the French. The clatter of the horses and the clanking of the scabbards were so great when the right half squadron moved up, that many thought it the forerunner of a general charge; some mounted officer called out, “Had we not better form square?”—“No,” replied Picton; “it is but a ruse to frighten us, but it won’t do.”
At this moment a cloud of dust was discernible in the direction of Guinaldo; it was a cheering sight; it covered the 3rd Dragoon Guards, who came up at a slinging trot to our relief. When this fine regiment approached to within a short distance of us they dismounted, tightened their girths, and prepared for battle; but the French horse slackened their pace, and in half an hour more we were safe within our lines. The Light Division, which were also critically circumstanced on this memorable day, joined us in the morning, and thus the whole army was re-united.
CHAPTER XI
Retreat of the French army—Vultures on the field of battle—The Light Division and private theatricals—Major Leckie and the musician—Privations—The Connaught Rangers and the sheep—Deficient kits—Darby Rooney and General Mackinnon.
The Duke of Ragusa and the Count Dorsenne employed themselves the whole of the day (the 26th of September) in reconnoitring the ground we occupied, and everything announced that a battle would be fought the next day (which, had it taken place, would have been the anniversary of the battle of Busaco, gained by us the preceding year), but Lord Wellington observing a considerable body of troops moving upon his left, apparently with the intention of turning it, withdrew from his entrenched camp in the course of the night to the neighbourhood of Alfayates, leaving the 4th Division, commanded by General Cole, at Aldea-de-Ponte.
At break of day on the 27th the French army were in motion, but their surprise seemed great on finding our lines unoccupied. Marmont pushed his advance upon the village of Aldea-de-Ponte, and a gallant affair for our 4th Division took place there. The two regiments of Fusileers[[19]] particularly distinguished themselves, and repulsed the enemy at the point of the bayonet. Night put an end to this affair, which cost us a couple of hundred men, and nearly double that number fell on the side of the French.
[19]. The 7th and 23rd Royal Welsh.