I am not writing a memoir of General Craufurd; yet two anecdotes connected specially with the Regiment I may here record.
On one occasion he was riding in front of the lines when two Riflemen rushed out of a house, pursued by a Spanish woman calling out ‘Ladrone! ladrone!’ They had stolen bread. Craufurd with his orderly immediately pursued them, the guard was turned out, and they were made prisoners. The next day they were tried by a brigade Court-Martial, found guilty, and sentenced to a punishment of a hundred-and-fifty lashes. One, a Corporal Miles, was of course to be reduced to the ranks. They were brought out to a wood to be punished. As soon as the Brigade Major had read the proceedings, Craufurd addressed the men on their cruelty to the Spaniards. Then, turning to the Regiment, he upbraided them in no measured terms: ‘You think that because you are Riflemen, and more exposed to the enemy’s fire than other troops, you may rob the inhabitants with impunity; but while I command you, you shall not.’ Then addressing Corporal Miles, he said in a stern voice, ‘Strip, sir.’
When Miles was tied up to a tree to receive his punishment, he turned his head and said: ‘General Craufurd, I hope you will forgive me.’ Craufurd answered: ‘No; your crime is too great.’
On this Corporal Miles, in a quiet and most respectful voice and manner, addressed the General: ‘Do you remember, sir, when you and I were taken prisoners, when under the command of General Whitelocke at Buenos Ayres? We were marched prisoners to a sort of pound, surrounded with a wall. There was a well in the centre, from which I drew water in my mess-tin, by means of canteen-straps which I collected from the men who were prisoners like myself. You sat on my knapsack; and I parted my last biscuit with you. You then told me that you would never forget my kindness to you. It is now in your power, sir. You know how short of rations we have been for some time.’
These simple words, and the soldier’s respectful manner, affected not only Craufurd but every man in the square. Meanwhile the Bugle-Major gave the fatal nod, and Miles received a lash. But before a second fell, Craufurd called out: ‘What’s that? who taught that bugler to flog? send him to drill; he cannot flog. Stop, stop, take him down; I remember it well; I remember it well!’ Then he paced up and down the square, evidently much moved. In a dead silence Miles was untied; and at last the General said to him: ‘Why does a brave soldier like you commit these crimes?’ and calling his orderly, he mounted, and rode off without a word more. The other man was pardoned, and Miles had his corporal’s stripes restored in a few days.
On one occasion during Moore’s retreat, Lieutenant Thomas Smith, then a very young officer who had but lately joined, was accompanying ammunition which was in charge of a Quartermaster (Ross). On their arrival at Craufurd’s head-quarters, the wily Quartermaster advised Smith to go and report their arrival to the General. The other demurred; saying that he was not in charge of the ammunition, but only accompanying it. However, the Quartermaster urged him, reminding him that he must be hungry; they had not, in fact, tasted food for twenty-four hours; and that the General would probably ask him to dinner. Thus counselled by his senior and impelled by his hunger, he presented himself at the General’s quarter and saw his Aide-de-Camp, who going upstairs returned with an order to proceed at once a further march of some three leagues. Smith returned to the Quartermaster with this woful order, adding that as he was in charge of it, he might remain with it, for that he should go on and overtake his Battalion. The Quartermaster declared he should do no such thing; and after a sharp argument they both started and joined the Battalion. In the morning as Smith was sitting down to breakfast, an order came from Craufurd, who had come up, that he and the Quartermaster should attend him. On being ushered into the General’s presence they found him warming himself before a comfortable brazier, while breakfast stood on the table. In a voice of great severity he asked which of the two had received his order the night before.
‘I did, sir,’ said Smith, ‘but’—
‘No but, sir,’ interrupted Craufurd; ‘consider yourself under arrest; and,’ adding a tremendous oath, ‘I will smash you.’
Poor Smith—for Craufurd would not hear a word more—returned in dismay to his brother officers, whom he found at breakfast; but hungry as he was and pressed by them to be of good heart, food had now no charms for him.
Eventually Beckwith represented to Craufurd that the offender was but a boy just joined; and his pleadings, coupled perhaps with the fact that they were just going to fight, when every available officer would be wanted, induced Craufurd, contrary to his wont, to relax his severity and to release Smith from his arrest.