The Adventures of Captain John Patterson With Notices of the Officers, &c. of the 50th, or Queen's Own Regiment from 1807 to 1821

Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as printed.

Words printed in italics are marked with underlines: _italics_.

The Adventures Of Captain John Patterson,

WITH NOTICES OF THE OFFICERS, &c. OF THE 50th, OR QUEEN'S OWN REGIMENT, FROM 1807 TO 1821.

London: T. & W. Boone, 29, New Bond Street.

1837.

T. C. Newby, Printer, Bury St. Edmund'S.

To

The Queen'S

Most Excellent Majesty.

Madam,

Encouraged by the very flattering manner in which your Majesty condescended to present the 50th with the Colours which they now carry, as well as by a high sense of the honour conferred upon the Regiment when they were styled the "Queen's Own," I have presumed to dedicate to your Majesty this feeble record of their services during the late War.

I am fully assured that in whatever quarter of the globe their colours may be displayed, it will be to gain new honours in the field, and that, therefore, the Regiment will ever maintain that place in your Majesty's favour, which they have had the singular good fortune to acquire.

I have the honour to be, Madam, Your Majesty's most obedient, and very faithful Subject, JOHN PATTERSON, CAPTAIN, Late of the 50th, or Queen's Own Regiment.

_Liverpool, 25th October, 1836._

Table Of Contents.

Chapter I.

The Author's motives. His entrance into military life. Sketches of officers. Lieutenant Colonel Stewart. Lieutenant Colonel White. A harassing march. Changes of name in the 50th regiment. Arrival at Portsmouth. The embarkation.

Chapter II.

The expedition under sail. Rough weather in the Bay of Biscay. Christmas festivities prevented. The expedition is compelled to put back. The troops are relanded. The expedition sails again. Its arrival at Gibraltar. Motley population of the place. The library. Excessive heat of the climate. Sluggishness of promotion. The expedition arrives at Cadiz. Dull cruize. Spanish attack on the French fleet. Visit to Cadiz.

Chapter III.

Campaign in Portugal. Arrival at Mondego Bay. A cool disembarkation. Bustle of encamping. Skirmish at Obidos. Action at Roliça. Death of Colonel Lake. March of the army towards Vimeiro. Junot's contempt of the British. Battle of Vimeiro. The British troops resolve to gain abundant laurels. Appearance of the country. Death of Colonel Coote. French attack repulsed. Spirit of a Highland piper. Rout of the French. Relics left behind by them. Death of Colonel Taylor. Bivouac after the battle. Convention of Cintra.

Chapter IV.

March to Lisbon. Enthusiastic reception of the English army. Danger of night rambles. Encampment at Monte Santo. The army marches towards the frontier. Santarem. A domestic occupation. Bad quarters. Pleasant life of a soldier. Description of troops on their march. Bustling second Majors. March of the army resumed. Picturesque scenes on the Tagus. Kindness of Major Napier. Ravages committed by the French. Difficulty of communicating with the natives. Signs substituted for speech. Hospitality at Guarda. Inhospitality at Ciudad Rodrigo. Arrival at Salamanca. Friendly conduct of the inhabitants.

Chapter V.

March to Salamanca. Sir David Baird. Passage of the Esla. Merit of the camp females. Halt at Lugo. Short commons. Suffering from want of sleep. Lieutenant McCarthy. Inclemency of the weather. Exertions of Sir David Baird. Distribution of shoes. Odd fits. Scarcity of provisions. Dough boys. Delights and disappointments of tea-drinking. Destruction of the money-chests. Wretched situation of the women and children. Tattered clothing. A dandy in spite of all obstacles. Bravery of the rear guard. Stupidity of the peasants. Corunna in sight.

Chapter VI.

The troops at Corunna. Alarming explosion of a powder magazine. The brigade takes up a position near Corunna. Admirable conduct of Sir John Moore. Positions of the hostile armies. French clamours in the field. The outposts are attacked. Bravery of Major Napier. Captain Clunes. New mode of dislodging French soldiers. Cookery spoiled. Major Napier is wounded and made prisoner. Death of Major Stanhope, and of other officers. A presentiment. Preparations to embark. Burial of Major Stanhope. Embarkation of the army. Anger of Soult. Loss of the Mary transport ship. Departure from Spain.

Chapter VII.

Quarters at Braborne Lees. Removal to Ashford. Character of the 85th and 68th regiments. Quarters at Ashford. Hauteur of the Ashfordians. Quarters at Reading Street. Officers ordered to the Isle of Wight. Ludicrous journey thither. The troops embark for Walcheren. The troops disembark near Camp Vere. Desolate appearance of Flushing after its surrender. Sufferings of the inhabitants. The marsh fever breaks out. Mortality caused by it. Kindness of the Dutch. Visit to Middleburgh. Cleanness and neatness of the town. Apathy of the Dutch. Singular sleeping arrangement. The troops embark for England. They go into quarters. Porchester castle. Albany barracks. Visit of the Author to Ireland. Quarters at East Bourne.

Chapter VIII.

The 1st battalion is ordered to Portugal. Lord Balgonie. Arrival at Lisbon. March to Abrantes. Bad quarters at Abrantes. Halt at Garvao. A family at Gafete. Bugs left as a legacy by the French. Situation of Portalegre. The grand Cathedral. Seclusion of the fair sex at Portalegre. Encampment on the heights of Torre de Moro. Camp comforts. Arrival at Borba. Beauty of the country round Borba. Delightful garden of Don Juan de Almeida. Style of building at Borba. Nunnery of St. Clara. The Capuchin convent. Jollity of the Monks. The Convent Kitchen. Return to Portalegre. Terrible fatigue endured. Death of Ensign Hay. Wretched Winter Quarters. The crabbed Donna Elvira and her gloomy abode.

Chapter IX.

General Hill is despatched to surprise General Girard's corps. The heights of Alegrete. The division encounters a furious storm. Halt at Codiceira. Kindness of the hostess. Superciliousness of the dragoon officers. Offensive and absurd superiority assumed by a dragoon colonel. Folly of such conduct. Anecdote of a dandy officer. "Blanket merchants." The town of Albuquerque. Appearance of the women at Malpartida. Miseries of a bivouac on a rainy night. Arrival at Arroyo del Molino. The enemy is defeated. Arrival at Merida. Ruined state of the town. Bridge over the Guadiana. Description of Campo Mayor. Charnel house. Quarters at Campo Mayor.

Chapter X.

Quarters at Albuquerque and Portalegre. House in which the Author was quartered. March to Don Benito. Family of Don Diego Ramirez. Style of living. The second division sent to the neighbourhood of Badajos. The author visits Badajos. Difficulty of approach. Description of the defences of the breaches. Enormities committed after the storming of the place. Bravery of Lieut. McCarthy.

Chapter XI.

Arrival at Truxillo. A force detached to reduce the Forts of Almaraz. Solitariness of the march. Arrangements for the attack. Hot fire from the enemy. Obstinate defence of Fort Napoleon. Death of Captain Robert Candler. The Fort is carried by storm. Bravery and fall of Clarimont, the governor. The tête du pont is carried by the Highlanders. Fort Ragusa is abandoned by the garrison. Lieut. Thiele is blown up. Loss sustained by the two victors. The two Irish brothers, Larry and Pat Egan. Repast after the success.

Chapter XII.

The troops return to Truxillo. Description of Truxillo. The Pizarro palace. A paltry bull-fight. March to Fuentes del Maestro. Quarters at Don Benito. Kindness of the inhabitants. Wedding at Don Benito. The bride and bridegroom described. Assemblies in the town. Dress of the ladies. Departure from Don Benito. March to Villa Mercia. Sad want of fuel. The bullock-cart. Sierra de Santa Cruz. Banditti-like shepherds. The troops march to Toledo. Warm reception given to them by the inhabitants. Situation of Toledo. Magnificence of the cathedral. Skeleton of St. Ursula. Beautiful paintings. The largest bell in Europe. Persons and dress of the ladies of Toledo. Dress of the men. Departure from Toledo. Bivouac on the banks of the Tagus. Tedious road to Aranjuez. Arrival at Aranjuez. Ravages committed by the French. The queen's palace. Gardens and groves of the place.

Chapter XIII.

Excursion to Madrid with a brother officer. The travellers lose their way. A surly Don refuses admission. They arrive at Villa Conejo. The inhabitants of the valleys are often robbers. Sinister countenances of some of the villagers. The travellers at last obtain a shelter. They enter Madrid. A troublesome Alcalde. Our host in love. Custom of separating males from females in the Spanish theatres. Riotous conduct of the audience in the pit. Blundering actors. An ill-looking prompter. Gaiety of the people of Madrid. La China and the Retiro. Palace of Godoy. Distress in Madrid. Difficulty of obtaining admission into the houses in Madrid.

Chapter XIV.

The travellers return to Aranjuez. March of the army towards Madrid. Halt at the Escurial. Situation of the Palace. Enormous magnitude of the building. The army proceeds on its march. Description of the pass of Guadarama. Sculpture in the pass. The army halts at Alba de Tormes. it moves on towards the Aripiles. Sufferings from the weather during the march. Difficulty of procuring subsistence and fire. A pig-hunt. Halt at Robledo. Arrival at Coria. Noisy belles and corpulent monks. Priest's wine. Ugliness of the females of Coria. Death of General Stewart, and Brigadier General Wilson. Description of the Belem Rangers.

Chapter XV.

March of the regiment to Monte Hermosa. Banditti in the neighbourhood. Journey to Placentia. Description of the party. Forest of Carcaboso. The author arrives at Placentia. He is quartered at the house of Francisco Barona. His host's wife and her lover. Return from Placentia. Fears of some of the travellers. Peasantry of Monte Hermosa described. Amusements of the Villagers. Inharmonious music and heavy dancing.

Chapter XVI.

March from Villa Hermosa. Bridge at Gihon. Halt at La Sacita. The author is quartered at the house of Bernardo Lopez. Hospitality of his host. The march resumed. Puerto de Banos. Arrival at Bejar. Warm reception given to the troops. Fears entertained of the French. Situation of Bejar. The troops are kept constantly on the alert. Hard duty. Assemblies and dances. Conduct of the Dons in the ball-room. Palace of the Duke of Ossuna. Name-day entertainments. The Carnival at Bejar. The Rabo. The Pillijo. The priests fond of gambling. Wool carding. Idleness of the men. Tertullias. General Foy attacks Bejar. He is defeated. Gratitude of the inhabitants of Bejar.

Chapter XVII.

The regiment quits Bejar. March through the Valley of the Ebro. Halt at La Puebla. Orders given to prepare for action. Battle of Vittoria. Hungry condition of the British troops. Colonel Cadogan is killed. His character. Birds'-eye view of the battle-field. Ruse de guerre of the French. Pathetic recognition of a slain brother. Close of the battle. Flight of the French. Vexation of a Scotch economical officer. Night bivouac.

Chapter XVIII.

March to Pampeluna. A storm in the Pyrenees. Lieut. Masterman killed by lightning. Movements on the enemy's flanks. Beauty of the Vale of Bastan. Halt of the army near Elisonda. Marshal Soult resolves to regain his lost ground. Another storm in the Pyrenees. Advance of the French against the British. The British outposts are driven in. Destructive fire of the Riflemen. Several officers are killed. Cool courage of Lieut. Brown. Bravery of Colonel O'Callaghan. Daring conduct of the French Officers. Colonel Hill severely wounded. The British are forced to retire. The French Riflemen again. Lieut. Birchall killed. Successful charge on the French. Killed and wounded officers. The battle terminates in favour of the British.

Chapter XIX.

The Author is wounded in the battle of the Pyrenees. He is sent to the hospital station at Vittoria. Motley group of the wounded. The Author is quartered on a partisan of the French. Lieutenant Pattison. Captain Gough. Vittoria and its vicinity. Melancholy fate of Captain Gore. Celebration of a great festival at Vittoria. Ludicrous antics of the townspeople. The Author sets out for Bilboa. Apparently cannibal innkeeper at Tolosa. Arrival at Bilboa. The Author embarks for England. Singular entrance to the port where he embarked. He lands at Plymouth.

Chapter XX.

Exploits of the 50th regiment subsequent to the Author's leaving Spain. Action at Aire. Death of Lieutenant D. McDonald. Good fortune of Lieutenant Colonel Harrison. Officers killed and wounded in the campaign of 1814. Estimate of the relative merit of the soldiery of various countries. Of the English. Of the Scotch. Of the Irish. Of the Germans. Characters of Captain Philip Blassiere.

Chapter XXI.

The 50th regiment in quarters at Aughnacloy. It removes to Enniskillen. Recruiting quarters at Londonderry. Still hunting. Disgusting nature of that service. Stratagems of the illicit distillers. Pursuit of outlaws and robbers. Magennis, a noted villain. He eludes all pursuit. Lieutenant Plunkett resolves to apprehend him. Notice of Lieutenant Plunkett's military career. He succeeds in seizing Magennis. The informer is murdered.

Chapter XXII.

The Author is ordered to join the regiment in the West Indies. He embarks at Cove. Uncomfortable state of the sleeping berths. Pleasant society on board. The pilot is charged with numerous farewells. Sea sickness. No compassion felt for its victims. Amusing talents of Mr. Charles. Disasters at dinner and tea in the Bay of Biscay. Approach to Madeira. Preparations for warm weather. Attack on the turtle. Jeopardy of the assailants. Palma and Teneriffe in sight. Attempted suicide of a soldier. Beauty of the nights. Dancing and singing on board. Crossing the Line. Consequences of the excesses connected with this mummery. Land in sight. Arrival at Jamaica. A black pilot. Prying visitors from the shore.

Chapter XXIII.

Visit to Port Royal. Tavern there. Description of Port Royal. The Author lands at Kingston. He proceeds to Up-Park Camp. Terrible mortality among the troops. Death of Colonel Hill. His character. Picturesque situation of Up-Park Camp. Its extreme insalubrity. Duties in camp. Black female pedlars. Second breakfast. Cricket. Evening Parade. Dinner. Insufferable heat of mid-day. Injurious effect of the night dews. Excessive thirst and excessive drinking. A singular idea of a fine country. Danger of being exposed to the heavy rains. Death of Lieut. Richardson. Shipwreck and death of Mrs. Ross. Description of Kingston. Extortionate conduct of the Hotel-keepers. Character of the Kingston ladies. Their extreme love of dancing. Drowsiness and apathy of the males. Unhealthiness of Spanish Town.

Chapter XXIV.

The author embarks for England. Course of the vessel. Sharks not palatable food. A visit from a Buenos Ayres privateer. Rough weather. A northwester hurricane. Its terrific appearance and effects. Misery below deck. Meritorious conduct of Mr. Grant, the Mate. He is swept away by a billow. The hurricane ceases. Vigorous attack on the breakfast. Passengers in the vessel. One of them is sickly; another is crack-brained. Misfortunes encountered by the latter. The Author lands at Deal.

Errata.

Page 6, 8 lines from bottom, for "queses," read "cues."

12, 5 lines from bottom, for "groops," read "groupes."

40, 2 lines from bottom, for "60th," read "50th."

46, 12 lines from bottom, for "among wood," read "among the wood."

48, In the list of killed, &c. at Vimeiro, instead of the passage printed, read "Capt. A. G. Coote, killed; Major Charles Hill, and Lieutenant J. N. Wilson, wounded."

69, 4 lines from bottom, for "blackening," read "blanching."

135, 9 lines from bottom, for "throgout," read "throughout."

149, 4 lines from bottom, for "Caja," read "Caio."

192, 5 lines from top, for "wood," read "mood."

199, 6 lines from bottom, for "Chandler," read "Candler."

203, 4 lines from bottom, for "Thril," read "Thiele."

221, 6 lines from bottom, for "mach," read "march."

265, 2 lines from top, for "firm," read "fine."

314, 2 lines from bottom, for "70th," read "71st."

344, 11 lines from bottom, for "Settimo," read "Septimo."

352, 5 lines from top, for "Lieutenant General Bartley, Lieutenant General Power," read "Lieutenant George Bartley, Lieutenant Power."

352, at the top, for "Lieutenant and Adjutant D. McDonald," read "Lieutenant Duncan McDonald."

389, 3 lines from top, instead of "to behold with what vanity as well as delight not a few," should read, "to behold with what delight as well as vanity not a few."

390, 2 lines from bottom, for "Wailey," read "Warley."

Adventures.

Chapter I.

It seems to be a general custom for the retired soldier, after he has sheathed his now harmless blade, to wield the pen, and, looking back upon his past campaigns, deliver "a round unvarnished tale." I have no wish to be singular, by making myself an exception to the rule; on the contrary, I am rather desirous of appearing on the list of those who fight their battles o'er again. I shall, therefore, as a young recruit, take part among the troop of scribblers; and, without any unnecessary preamble, assign one reason for my embarking in the cause.

Among the various military narratives, written to edify the world, nothing has yet transpired regarding the old Fiftieth; not a single champion has been bold enough to step forward, and say a word or two in favour of that corps. Now, as the battalion, whenever the pebbles were flying about, was never in the back ground, there can be no excuse for silence upon the subject. Moreover, the high esteem in which I hold the companions of many a hard fought day prompts me to offer this feeble record of their services, so far as I have witnessed them; and, at the same time, to endeavour to rescue from oblivion, the memory of those brave men, who fell for their country. It perhaps may be asserted, that the interest in all such matters is now gone by, and that it is a hackneyed, dry, and threadbare theme; but I must beg leave to differ from those sapient persons, who perchance may entertain this notion.

The scenes in this eventful war were ever changing; each performer ran a career as varied as the clime or country through which he travelled; in fact, so diversified were the circumstances, that if every individual from the drum-boy upwards, were to write his own adventures, I am well convinced, the story would not be wholly devoid of interest, because it would at least have novelty to recommend it.

As for the movements and operations of the army, in the Spanish peninsula, they have been already well described by Colonel Napier; and therefore I consider that any account, even from the most talented pen, would be superfluous, after the details which have been so clearly given by that able historian.

The hurried nature of our service rendered it impossible for us to see beyond the surface. We were scarcely ever allowed to remain more than a day or two, in any town worthy particular notice. The woods and wilds were generally the places of our habitation. From this cause, description will necessarily be meagre, and little more than an unfinished sketch, or outline, can be looked for. I shall confine myself to things that fell within the range of personal observation, many of which were noted down in a journal at the time; and in doing so I may hope to introduce some gleanings, not wholly worthless, that may have escaped the cognizance of others more experienced, and who even were long before me in the field. If the general reader should deem my preliminary matter to be of minor importance, I must beg to remind him, that there are many veterans to whom it will appear in a different light; and I must solicit his patience till I can lead him into more stirring scenes.

Having, in August 1807, received a commission in his Majesty's 50th, or West Kent regiment, I joined the 2nd battalion of that corps, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Stewart, at Deal barracks, on the 17th of the following month. It was composed chiefly of young recruits and of volunteers from the English Militia, and was undergoing a strict course of drill; the whole of the officers and men being diligently employed in practising the manual and platoon exercise, marching, countermarching, and the balance step.

Lieutenant-Colonel Stewart, who had lately been promoted from the 53rd, in which he had served for some years, was an old and very distinguished officer, having encountered the vicissitudes of war, in almost every quarter into which the British arms were carried. In the East Indies, while present at the siege of Seringapatam, as Captain of the 71st Highlanders, he bore a conspicuous part, when leading his company to the assault of that fortress, in which he was severely wounded. He was a hardy Northern, skilled in martial science, and was as eminent in those qualities which are required for training up the young battalion as for those which are displayed in manoeuvring the more experienced in the field. His hoary locks, well blanched by many a hard campaign, indicated the length of service to which his best days had been devoted, while his penetrating expression of countenance indicated the active mind, and the abilities, by which he was so highly distinguished.

In the adjoining barrack lay the 29th or Worcestershire regiment, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Daniel White. It had lately returned from Halifax, where it had been stationed for many years.--Being in preparation for active employment, it was now passing through the usual ordeal of drill and ball practise; and consequently the interminable sounds of drums, and bugles, the monotonous din of the drill serjeants' "as you were," accompanied by the clamour from the Adjutants' stentorian lungs, were continually wringing in our ears.

The 29th was a fine regiment, although it had been trained up after the manner of the old school. Their Lieutenant-Colonel, a gallant veteran,[1] shewing the example, made his officers dress with cocked hat square to the front, long queses, and wide skirted coats, fastened or looped back with hook and eye--They had rather too much of the antique about them, and were considerably improved by getting into a more modern style of costume.

[1] This fine old officer was killed at the battle of Talavera, while nobly leading his regiment to the charge.

We were enlivened by their excellent band; and their corps of black drummers cut a fierce and remarkable appearance, while hammering away on their brass drums. This regiment, when complete, was sent to Portugal, where by its good conduct it acquired as large a share of laurels as any other in the Peninsular army.

The 2nd battalion of the 50th marched, on the 8th of October, 1807, to the town of Ashford in Kent, at which place we had excellent accommodation and good barracks.

An order soon after arrived for a draught, consisting of one Captain, two Subalterns, and 150 men, to proceed forthwith to join the 1st battalion, then on its route to Portsmouth. The detachment left Ashford on the 16th of November, under the command of Captain H. I. Phelps.[2]

[2] Captain Phelps, was shortly after exchanged into the 80th and consequently was not among the number who embarked with the 1st battalion.

The 1st battalion of the 50th, or West Kent regiment, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel George Townsend Walker, was, at that time, above a thousand strong, having been completed by men from the second battalion, on its return from the expedition to Copenhagen. In addition to the old hands, they obtained a full supply of young active fellows, who had volunteered from the English Militia,--the whole, officers as well as privates, were in good health and spirits, elated with the prospect of active service, and looking forward to new adventures as well as to encountering the enemy in the field. But it was not alone by numerical strength or physical power that the 50th was likely to be formidable. There was likewise an "esprit de corps," a high tone of feeling among them, producing a moral force not easily to be overcome.

When, after a long and harassing route, on a dismal wintry day in October, the men marched up the main street in Hythe covered with mud, drenched with rain, their clothing and accoutrements tarnished, their black facings in good keeping with their dingy costume, they certainly looked more like a band of demons than human beings, and realized, on this occasion at least, their ancient pet appellation of the 'dirty half hundred.'

The 50th has undergone several changes of name, both serious and ludicrous. At the period of which we are writing, it was the West Kent regiment. When, after its return from the West Indies, in 1827, it received a new set of colours, at Portsmouth, from the hands of Queen Adelaide, (then Duchess of Clarence) it became the 'Duke of Clarence's.' On our present gracious sovereign's accession to the throne it was made a royal regiment, and obtained the honor of being styled the 'Queen's Own,' which is its present name. Among military men, it has been known by various jocose titles; at one time it was called the 'Mediterranean Greys,' from its having been so long on that station that the locks of men and officers had assumed a grisly hue. It was, at another period, named the 'Blind Half Hundred,' from being so much afflicted with the ophthalmia in Egypt. The 'Old Black Cuffs,' and the 'Dirty Half Hundred,' from the dingy colour of the facings, are still favourite appellations.--But let us resume our march.

We arrived at Portsmouth on the 26th of November, 1807, having had a toilsome march of ten days; the roads were bad, and the weather was unusually cold and wet; so that we did not make a very respectable or beautiful figure, upon our entrance into that garrison, any more than we did at our exhibition in Hythe. The object of our coming to Portsmouth, was to form a portion of an expedition which was to assemble at this place of rendezvous, preparatory to its embarkation for a destined quarter, to what part of the world it was to direct its course was, however, as yet unknown to the troops who were to be engaged in it.

The force to be employed on this secret enterprise consisted of the following regiments, viz.:--

The 29th regiment, Lieut.-Col. White.

The 32nd regiment, Lieut.-Col. S. V. Hinde.

The 50th regiment, Lieut.-Col. G. T. Walker.

The 82nd regiment, Lieut.-Col. Sir G. Smith.

The Armament was to be under the orders of Major General Sir Brent Spencer, an officer of well-tried experience, and merit, who had signalized himself on many occasions, and particularly when leading forward the old 40th on the sands of Egypt. With such a gallant chief at our head, followed by such troops, we could not fail to be inspired with confidence, that to whatever quarter the expedition might be bound, success would inevitably attend upon our arms.

Previous to our going on board, a limited number of women were allowed to accompany the regiment, and lots were cast in order to decide this very delicate affair.--It was most affecting to witness the distress of those whose fate it was to remain behind, and the despair that was pictured on the countenances of the unhappy creatures was truly pitiable.--Many of them young, helpless, and unprotected, were forced to wander back to their own country, pennyless, and broken-hearted, and to all intents and purposes left in a widowed state, for few of them were fated ever to behold their husbands again.

The moment of separation was a painful one, and was calculated not only to touch the hearts of the most indifferent observer, but to affect most deeply those who, while they felt for the mourners, had no power to mitigate their sorrows.

The embarkation took place on the 17th of December. The troops were assembled on that spot, well known by the name of Portsmouth point, a place which, albeit it possesses but a scanty portion of the picturesque, even now furnished with a goodly display of animated nature, and covered with groups of motley garb and colour, consisting of all the rank, beauty and fashion of that very polite and elegant quarter of the town, drawn hither from their saloons, to witness the departure of the soldiers.

Chapter II.

The whole of the troops being on board, the fleet got under way, from Spithead, with a fine breeze from the E.N.E. and stood down channel for the westward.

The transports fitted up for our reception, were small vessels of such old and crazy materials, that in this wintry season, we did not expect they would long remain sea-worthy. However as we were now commencing the uphill work of a soldier's life, our minds were fully made up to rough it in every sense of the word; and, although appearances were not flattering, our feelings were in unison with the motto on our breast-plate, (quo fata vócant) and we were buoyed up with the hopes of a prosperous issue to our undertaking.

Captain Bentley's company, (to which I belonged) was stowed in the brig Alexander; she was an old tub, battered and knocked about by many a gale, and in her look and trim was by no means inviting.

The skipper, Captain Young, a tall, hard-featured seaman, with a countenance well bronzed by exposure to the N.W. wind, was positive and irritable to an extreme degree, and if a landsman presumed to offer any remark, as to the affairs of his beautiful ship, Old _Young_, was quite indignant.

We were fortunate in getting Bentley for a shipmate, as he was a kind good tempered man, and a lively companion.

The paymaster, John Montgomery, with his wife and family, were also of our party; so that on the whole, we in the Alexander were as well off with respect to society, as any of our neighbours. Montgomery was a plain, good-natured Irishman, fond of social life, and being a man of experience, having spent most of his days in the regiment, he was an acquisition, which ultimately proved valuable to us. His eldest daughter, an animated sensible girl, contributed with two younger sisters to our happiness; and, making due allowance for the state of things around, we had as large a share of enjoyment, (if such a word can be used with reference to being in a ship), as under the circumstances could reasonably be expected.

The fleet was soon clear of the channel, bearing on a S.W. course, under a heavy press of canvass, before a fair wind.--The appearance of the clouds and atmosphere was unfavourable, and the huge unwieldy porpoises, rolling about their shapeless forms, together with the screaming of mother Cary's chickens, were to the experienced mariners certain indications of a coming storm. Their evil prognostics were soon realized; for, on approaching the Bay of Biscay, we were driven and tossed about, by one of the most violent tempests that had occurred for many years.--It began on Christmas day. Resolving to enjoy, though in a humble way, the good cheer of the festive season, we had previously provided for the occasion a fat goose, and other savoury things; but, alas, our promised joys proved deceptive; they all vanished, and were replaced by sorrow and disappointment, for the relentless gale denied all possibility of comfort! Poor blacky, in his caboose, was rendered inconsolable, he being unable to dress the aforesaid goose, as the spray, beating in, had quenched the last spark of his culinary fire. The ship reeled and pitched with such tremendous force, that it was not without some trouble we could discuss the merits of a cold bone of junk with hard biscuit, while we lay sprawling and floundering on the wretched cabin floor. The dead-lights having been previously fixed to the stern windows, there remained but the flickering and moody glare of a yellow dirty looking luminary, y'clept a lamp, which, as it swung from the sky-light grating, afforded a glimmering just sufficient to make darkness visible, and disclose to our visual organs a scene emphatically dismal.

Such was the commencement of our calamitous voyage, and in this way did we get on, from bad to worse, each day more woeful than the preceding; until at length, after beating about this Bay of Misery, against a strong head sea, and with a hurricane in our teeth, it was thought advisable to fight no longer with the elements; the signal was therefore made from the Commodore, to tack about, and make sail for England.--Obeying this welcome signal with alacrity, we found ourselves going homewards before the wind, at the rate of from ten to twelve knots an hour, after having been exposed to its dreadful violence for the space of ten days, in the most terrific sea that any unfortunate bark had ever ploughed.

At this time, as we looked across the foaming waste, the view was wild and dreary; amidst the atmosphere of darkness, clouds and mist, the scattered vessels might be occasionally discerned, as the fog dispersed, tossed about at the merciless fury of the waves; some dismantled, others on their beam ends. The wrecks of those that unhappily had foundered were floating here and there, while the loud and fearful moaning of the tempest increased the horrors of the scene.

After five days of rapid sailing, the Alexander, with a few more ships, arrived at Plymouth. The remainder of the convoy took refuge in various harbours, along the coast, and by the 5th of January they were all safe at anchor, in the several ports which with so much difficulty they made. On the 15th we sailed for Falmouth, when permission was granted for the men to land in detachments, in order that they might stretch their limbs after their long confinement[3].

[3] Before our departure from Falmouth our society was unfortunately deprived of Captain Bentley, who remained to effect an exchange. He was, for a considerable time, staff Captain at Chatham, and was promoted to the rank of Major, when he was appointed to the 16th foot, stationed at Ceylon. He died soon after this, justly lamented by all his friends and comrades.

Bentley was succeeded, in the Alexander, by Captain Richard Stowe, a weather-beaten veteran, upon whose visage time, and hard service, had imprinted numerous deep and indelible marks.

Stowe exchanged into a West India regiment, before we landed in Portugal, and was taken off by fever in one of the Leeward Islands.

The weather having at length become settled, the fleet again got under way, and, with a fine steady breeze from the East, soon cleared the Lizard. Steering towards our friend old Biscay, of blustrous memory, we speedily lost sight of the shores of Britain; but in a state of circumstances far more auspicious than those under which we first commenced our unfortunate career.

After a prosperous and very delightful voyage of seventeen days, during which we had favourable and pleasant weather, we came to anchor in the Bay of Gibraltar, when the troops were disembarked, and occupied the barracks at Europa point, on the southern extremity of the fortress.

The transport containing the flank companies and head quarters, under Colonel Walker, had missed the convoy in the heavy gales of January, and bore away to the Southward. After being driven about the Mediterranean for some weeks, it was compelled to put into the harbour of Messina, where it continued till intelligence was received of our arrival at the rock. In a little time it joined us, and the regiment was again re-assembled, and prepared for any service.

During our brief sojourn in this extraordinary place, which is too well known to need any description here, we found many things to interest us after the monotony of a voyage. The great number of strange and curious looking personages, who figured in the streets, with their varied, many-coloured, and grotesque costumes, made the town appear as if there was a carnival or masquerade going forward, and produced a very gay and ludicrous effect. There is, however, a heavy drawback to the mirth which this motley population is calculated to excite. The close suffocating atmosphere, the filthy state of the houses, and other local circumstances, promote the reception of those unwelcome visitors, plague, cholera, and yellow fever; which are still further encouraged, if not engendered, by the uncleanly habits, and abominable customs of the Turks, Jews, and other outlandish residents of the town.

The Library, containing a numerous and splendid collection of books in every language, forms a delightful source of amusement, as well as profitable employment, to the officers, civil and military, who may be stationed in the garrison.--Over the library is a magnificent ball-room in which at all times there is a pretty good display of the young and fair[4] rock-scorpions, together with passing visitors, and warlike heroes, who have assembled to dispel that ennui which might otherwise pervade their leisure hours.

[4] A term applied to those who are born on the _Rock_.

The weather was excessively hot, the oppressive closeness of the air, being increased by the reflection, from the rock, of a burning sun. Were this not tempered by the occasional breeze, wafted from the Mediterranean, the climate would be insufferable: tormented by flies, mosquitos, and other insects, we had but little rest day or night, and but for the constant occupation of the mind, combined with the excitement caused by the variety and novelty of all about us, our situation would have been any thing but agreeable in such a place, which it would almost require the nature of a salamander to endure; a nature not to be obtained except by the seasoning of a very long residence.

Mounting guard one day at the New mole head, I was a witness of an extraordinary interview which chanced to occur. Lieut. Frederick Baron Meard, an old subaltern of the 50th, was upon the same duty, and, being the senior, he turned out the guard to receive the visiting field officer, then Major Wood, of the 32nd regiment; to his great surprise the Major recognized Meard as the same individual who, some years before, when in the West Indies, was the field officer of the day, to whom the main guard presented arms, when he, (Major Wood), commanded it, being at that period a Lieutenant in the 32nd.

To what corps Meard then belonged, I do not recollect, but his having sold out and again commenced his military career, will account for what may seem one of those strange vicissitudes to which men of the military profession are liable.--Meard exchanged, while we lay at Gibraltar, into a regiment in the West Indies, and soon after fell a victim to the effects of that baneful climate. Major Cholmondly Overend also returned from the Regiment at this place, having sold his commission, and returned to England. Overend was a Yorkshireman, advanced in years, and decidedly of the old school. Erect in stature, and well made, with a good military expression, he retained still enough to show that in his younger days, he must have been a handsome man. Whether he is now in the land of the living I am unable to say. The 50th, previous to the arrival of Colonel Walker, was under the command of Major Charles Hill; of whom, as he was our leader throughout a good part of the Peninsular War, I shall hereafter have something more to relate.

On the 13th of May, 1808, the Expedition, under the orders of Lieutenant General Sir Brent Spencer, sailed from the Bay of Gibraltar, and on the following day arrived off Cadiz, where the fleet remained till the 13th of June, from which period to the 27th of the same month, it was cruizing about between Cape St. Vincent, Ayamonte and Trafalgar point; this being the second time of its visiting the coast in that quarter. Being appointed to do duty in Captain Armstrong's Company, I embarked with that officer, together with Ensign John Atkinson, and Quarter-Master Benjamin Baxter, on board of a fine well-built transport, called the Rosina. Our voyage was passed in a dull and listless manner, solely occupied as we were, for above six weeks, in sailing along the coasts of Algarve and Andalusia, and remaining in total ignorance of our final destination.--We were becalmed for days under a broiling sun, occasionally running short of water, and fresh provisions; and our state of uncertainty, as well as hope deferred, was enough to exhaust the patience of the most enduring mortals. Whenever the wind was favourable, or that we stood in close to the land, the natives approached the ship, with boats well laden with various articles, in the welcome shape of fruit, vegetables, or fish, which they gladly disposed of at a moderate rate. These might well be called luxuries, and formed an excellent accompaniment to our salt junk, upon which we had been stall-fed so abundantly that, for some time past, we had seldom any thing else for either breakfast, dinner, or supper. Had it not been for Captain Armstrong, I know not how we should have contrived to support a mode of existence, or rather of vegetation, which was so thoroughly wearisome. Fortunately he was an amusing companion, full of drollery and comic humour, and had, moreover, a fund of good songs, so that he kept us all alive.

Hostilities between England and Spain having ceased, in consequence of the invasion of the latter country by the French, preparations were made, in the most vigorous manner, to co-operate with the Spanish and Portuguese forces; and the British troops were accordingly held in readiness to disembark on any part of the Peninsula to which they might be ordered. General Spencer's Expedition, which was now destined for immediate active service, composed a portion of that army which first obtained a footing on the shores of Portugal, and which, eventually, under the illustrious Wellington, performed such glorious achievements in the field, driving the French Eagles before them, and bearing the victorious colours of Britain from Lisbon to Toulouse.

Soon after we arrived off the road of Cadiz, the French fleet, lying at anchor under the town, was summoned to surrender to the Spanish flag. This request not being complied with, the natural result was a general attack, made by the artillery on their shipping. The enemy was resolved to maintain his quarters as long as he could fire a shot, and therefore returned the salute, with all the heavy metal he could bring to bear against the works, sending in a broadside, with such tremendous effect as to rattle the tiled roofs about their ears and otherwise deface the beauty of their buildings.

Lying so far in the offing, we could see nothing but a thick cloud of smoke, rising above the calm surface of the bay;[5] the exhibition going forward behind this curtain, was completely hidden from our view. The cannonade, however, was audible enough, and its music sadly tantalized our seamen in the fleet, who burned to lend a hand in an affair which was so much to their taste. They had, nevertheless, quite sufficient to employ their time, having to keep a pretty sharp look out, in order to prevent the smallest craft of the adverse squadron from slipping through their fingers.

[5] While we lay off the bay, the governor, Solano, being suspected of adherence to the enemy, was barbarously murdered.

Throughout the whole of the day, a heavy fire was kept up against the French vessels by the garrison, whose long continued volleys echoed from the harbour. Compelled, at length, to strike their colours, the French surrendered to the Dons, who, sheltered by their solid masonry, had endured but trifling loss, and were entitled to no particular praise for any bravery they might have manifested behind their bulwarks.

On the 4th of July we got under way, and, sailing well up the harbour, came to anchor a short distance from the Mole head, the ships of war being moored across the entrance. The men were not permitted to land; but the Officers had leave to pass a few hours on shore every day, and within that limited space we were busy enough making a tour of inspection, prying into every street, lane, and alley, not in search of the picturesque, but of any thing else, that might lie in our way, deserving notice from inquisitive travellers.

Cadiz is delightfully situated upon an islet, separated from the main land by a narrow strait. It appeared a paradise to us, after the long imprisonment we had suffered, from the time we left Gibraltar. The citizens were highly gratified on seeing the English Officers, and used every means in their power to evince their friendship and good will, inviting us to their houses and entertaining us with liberality and kindness. In the course of a few days the transports containing the 50th were anchored near Port St. Mary's, a considerable town on the opposite shore. Here the regiment was landed, and, after remaining for one week, was again embarked. The fleet sailed on the 22nd, and we steered once more towards Cape St. Vincent. Portugal was our destination.

Before we left St. Mary's, I was removed to Captain Coote's company, with which I went on board the Britannia, Captain Clarke. The other officers of the cabin were Major Hill, Lieut. Birchall, Ensign Atkinson, and Assistant Surgeon Coulson, who formed a pleasant, convivial party, among whom good fellowship and social harmony prevailed.

Chapter III.

Upon our arrival off Mondego Bay, in Portugal, we received orders to disembark at the little village of Figueras, at the mouth of the Mondego river, across which there was a dangerous surf and ground swell. The passing of this obstacle we found to be a most hazardous and difficult service. As soon as the Portuguese boats, crowded with our soldiers, reached the foaming and rapid surge, a desperate pull was made by all the rowers; when, dashing over its surface, we were launched upon the strand in a most unceremonious manner, being pitched, or rather tumbled out, more like a cargo of fish than a boat load of gentlemen warriors. Bundled out upon the sandy beach, we lay floundering, and drenched by the waves, like so many half drowned wretches, who had lately escaped from Neptune's watery domains; and were almost doubtful of our existence, as we scrambled high, though not dry, upon the shore.--After this delightful immersion, and the cold reception we had experienced, on our first appearance upon the Lusitanian stage, we moved forward, with habiliments of war effectually saturated by the briny element, and soon joined our _companions of the bath_, already on the road. Most of us had been provided with small knapsacks, holding our _kit_, together with the haversack, and canteen, slung across the shoulder; of which the two former, (including their contents,) were rendered totally unfit for service, nothing being left for consolation but the brandy, or rum; cordials which were well calculated, and by no means unnecessary, to elevate our drooping spirits.

As soon as we recovered from the effects of our chilling ablutions, we proceeded to the ground of encampment, and, although we were in a sorry condition with regard to the outward man, the inward was sustained by a hearty determination to bear up under privations alike inevitable to all. The weather was beautifully fine; the roads, which were in general good, led through a picturesque and richly cultivated country. At the termination of each day's march, the troops were halted in the neighbourhood of wood and water. The alignment being taken up, and the arms piled in column, fires were immediately put in requisition for cooking, and in a moment the clash and clang of bill-hooks and pioneers' entrenching tools resounded on every side; while the deep woods rang again with the clamour of ten thousand tongues, and the harsh discordant sound of bugles, drums, and other noisy accompaniments, producing, on the whole, a scene not unworthy of Hogarth himself, who might have been aroused from the dead, to execute the task of depicting it, had he been entombed within the precincts of our turbulent camp.

Before daylight the army was up, and standing to their arms, formed in open column, the reveille at the same time was sounded from right to left, and echoed through the closely planted hills, giving to our enemies in the front loud intimation of our near approach, and proving that his newly arrived visitors were at all events on the alert, and came early into the field.

As we moved onward, towards Lisbon, a skirmish took place at Obidos, in which fell Lieutenant Bunbury, of the 95th Rifle corps; the first British officer who was slain in the Peninsula. This was the prelude to a more important action. Headed by General Laborde, the French took post on the heights of Roriça, where they resisted with wonderful obstinacy the combined attack of our troops. Nothing could surpass the gallantry displayed by both parties, during the assault of this strong position; and nothing but the courage of British soldiers could have forced the enemy to withdraw. On our part, the noble conduct of the old 9th and 29th regiments was conspicuous, those corps having, at the point of the bayonet, carried the whole range of hills.

It was a lovely morning, the sun rose with a splendour never witnessed in our cold latitudes, and every object seemed to smile upon our operations, at the commencement of that struggle upon which depended the slavery or freedom of a great nation.

The 50th, 45th, and 91st were brigaded together at this time, under General I. Catlin Crawford[6], and these were drawn up on the road leading to Roleia. From the arrangements made, we fully expected to have had the post of honor, or rather the honor of driving the adversary from his stronghold, and waited anxiously for the order to advance; but presently, while we stood gazing about us, up comes the 29th regiment, which by their bold and decided pace gave evidence plain enough that they were selected for the service, and, cheering them with our wishes for their success, we could not avoid admiring the style in which they moved along.

[6] General Catlin Crawford was a tall, fine-looking man, with a fair complexion and sandy hair. He subsequently died of fever in Portugal.

General Robert Crawford, his relation, a gallant officer, was killed at Ciudad Rodrigo.

The arrangements made by the French General Laborde for the defence of his position were admirably planned, and his troops behaved with great valour, contesting every inch of ground. Concealed within the close brushwood, on each side of the narrow defile, they took steady and deliberate aim, and their fire was attended with murderous effects. The 29th, however, commanded by the gallant Colonel Lake[7], pressed onward, to the gorge of the pass. While they were struggling up the rugged and precipitous ascent they were exposed to a shower of balls, and, in a few minutes, the grenadier company was nearly annihilated, the chivalrous Lake falling mortally wounded at their head, while in the act of bravely encouraging his men.

[7] Lieutenant Colonel the Honorable George Augustus Frederick Lake was the son of General Lord Lake, and rose to high military rank at an early age. He was a man of noble aspect and commanding appearance. Mounted on a milk-white charger, he led his followers on with heroic bearing.

The regiment still pushed forward, although with the loss of many other officers, and, forming on the summit of the eminence, was supported by the 9th; these corps, followed by others in reserve, gained possession of the heights. Beaten at all points, the enemy moved off in good order; directing his march along the sea coast by the roads to Vimeiro and Torres Vedras.

The 9th suffered considerably in this affair, and their commander, Colonel Cameron, was killed at the first onset.

The allies marched rapidly in the footsteps of the flying enemy, keeping him well in sight until they reached the hills surrounding the village of Vimeiro, where they were formed, in order to protect the debarkation of a reinforcement of men from England; which was then off the coast. These troops landed at the small town of Maceira, and were just in time for the ensuing combat, having opportunely joined before our principal adversary thought proper to shew his face.

Junot, who was general in chief, held the British in much contempt, and endeavoured to impress upon the minds of his followers, that their antagonists were a set of raw campaigners, wholly devoid of military skill. From the testimony of some deserters, who came into our lines, we learned, that the Marshal intended, before many days were over, to give us a dusting, and to brush the pipeclay out of our jackets. This cavalier determination of the Marshal afforded no small amusement to our soldiers, who promised themselves some good sport, whenever the gasconading Frenchman might be pleased to make true his words: and, not to be behindhand with him in kindness, they resolved gratefully to return the compliment, by trimming the whiskers of his gallant veterans, and powdering their mustachios, in so artist-like a manner, that the aid of a friseur should no longer be required.

In this posture things remained until the 21st of August, when both parties assembled to put in their claim to a portion of the honor and glory which were to be won on that day. By which side the largest share of those imperishable commodities was obtained, History has already recorded.

At a very early hour, on the morning of the day already mentioned, some random shots were heard in front of our piquets, which gave us intimation that the French were on the move, and we doubted not that they were about to assist our toilet in the way of brushing; in plain English, it was clear enough that they had it in contemplation to try our metal, and ascertain whether it was of a base kind or not. Under these circumstances it was quite natural that we should anticipate their wishes; and measures were accordingly taken to give them a warm reception.

Very few of us were ever in action before, and as for the smell of gunpowder, all our young hands were perfect griffins in that way. It being our initiatory battle, our minds were under no small degree of excitement. The idea of engaging in deadly strife with the soldiers of Austerlitz and Jena inspired the ambitious hero, escaped from the apron-string, with feelings of emulation well calculated to keep alive the flame of military ardour; and each, screwing his courage to the sticking place, resolved that he would be famed _for deeds of arms_, and that his name should go down to posterity under an accumulated weight of laurels.

The 43rd, (2nd battalion,) 50th, and 95th Rifle Corps were formed into a light brigade, under the command of General (now Sir Henry) Fane, and certainly I never beheld so fine a body of men; the 43rd, in particular, were a most shewy set of fellows, a healthy collection of John Bulls, hot from their own country, and equally hot for a slap at the Frenchmen. The 95th, (now the Rifle Brigade,) was commanded by Major Robert Travers[8], an officer whose bravery, on all occasions, made him worthy of a place in that crack regiment. We were posted on an eminence, to the right of the village; the 50th, being the junior corps, was stationed in the centre, and consequently on the highest part of the hill. From hence, as the day was fine, and the atmosphere quite clear, we had a distinct view of all that was going forward in the front, also a tolerably good prospect in every other direction.

[8] Major Robert Travers was promoted to be Lieutenant Colonel of the 10th Foot, and subsequently became Major General by brevet. He settled at his native place, Cork, where he died, in consequence of a fall from his horse, in 1835. He left a widow and very numerous family. One of his daughters, previously not unknown as a writer, has very recently distinguished herself by the "The MASCARENHAS; a Legend of the Portuguese in India;" an animated Romance, which displays great knowledge of character and power of description.

The country was overspread with vineyards, and, the vintage season being at hand, nothing could be more beautiful than the luxuriant foliage. Intermingled with the vines were chestnut and olive trees, while in the parts more distant, were rich and closely planted woods, forming a back-ground in good keeping with the whole of the splendid landscape.

The plot began to thicken about 8 o'clock, when a brisk firing of musketry, among the troops in advance, announced that it was high time to reinforce the piquets, which were commanded by Captain Thomas Snowe, of the 60th regiment. They were immediately strengthened by the 4th battalion company of that regiment, under Captain Coote. A sharp discharge of small arms was kept up by a cloud of French riflemen, who, gathering round under cover of the vines and cornfields, gave their fire with a degree of activity that certainly did them credit. Our men were at this time exposed in the open field, and scarcely knew from what direction the enemy were coming; but though they were nearly all young soldiers, unaccustomed to gunpowder, they behaved with a degree of steadiness worthy of their corps. Snowe in the meanwhile, with his party, which had extended to the right, was ordered to close on either flank, to support the centre, when the principal attack was made, and where the enemy, still pressing in, galled us with a peppering that was rapidly thinning the ranks, and made our situation by no means either cool or comfortable. With admirable presence of mind, Coote directed his men to take advantage of every means of cover the place afforded; and, encouraging them by his own example, they kept their ground under a galling and destructive fire, from an enemy whom they were unable to answer or even to see. At this trying moment, while in the act of cheering his little band, and urging them to behave with firmness and courage, a musket ball struck him in the heart, and reeling back a few paces, he fell, and instantly expired. His fall did not, however, dispirit his followers, on the contrary it excited an indignant feeling, which prompted them to redouble their exertions in order to avenge his death.

Arthur Gethin Coote was a native of the south of Ireland, and had served in the 50th regiment for some years.--He was a military looking man, strong, and well built, having dark features, and sharp penetrating eyes.--He was somewhat stately in deportment, but withal a daring soldier, steady and collected in the hour of danger.

The command devolving on Lieutenant Mark Rudkin, (Captain Snowe being detached to some woods on the right,) he gave orders to retire. The piquets extending right and left immediately fell back, under a shower of bullets, from the enemy's light troops, who continued forcing on in spite of all opposition. We gave them in return the full benefit of our small shot, as we occasionally drew up, covered by the vine hedges and olive trees, that lay within our path; and in this manner, alternately firing and retreating, so as to keep the foe aloof, we gained our situation in the line.

Before twelve o'clock, the contending forces were hard at work. Dark and accumulating masses of the enemy were advancing on every side; for, resolving that this should be a decisive combat, and that he would drive us back by the road on which we came, and perhaps into the sea, Junot brought into the field every man that he could muster. Such being his determination, it is no wonder that he pushed his warriors into our very teeth. They, too, if we might judge from the coolness with which they travelled up to the muzzles of our guns, seemed to think that they had nothing whatever to do, but to cut us into mince-meat, and devour us all by way of an early dinner. To the left of Vimeiro was a chain of lofty hills, extending for a considerable way to the eastward. Upon these the main body of the British force was arrayed, and here the contest was fought with desperation. The enemy, at last, after many a hard struggle to gain the position, was completely routed, leaving a vast number of his killed and wounded on the sides of the precipice, as well as in the hollows and ravines at its base.

The 71st Highland Light Infantry was greatly distinguished on those heights, and, with the other corps of Sir Ronald Ferguson's Brigade, charged the assailants repeatedly from the ground. They were then commanded by that fine officer, the late Sir Dennis Pack, and fully maintained the high station which they had always held in the military records of their country.

Among their wounded was poor George Clarke, their piper, who was struck by a musket ball, while cheering up his comrades in the charge. Unable to proceed, the intrepid Clarke still continued to play in animated strains the favourite national music, and with a noble spirit remained upon the spot, under a heavy fire, until, having fully accomplished the object of their mission, his regiment came back victorious to the station on the hill.[9]

[9] Clarke received a handsome pension, and was justly rewarded, by the Highland Society, with an appropriate silver medal.

The 50th regiment, commanded by Colonel George Townsend Walker, stood as firm as a rock, while a strong division under General Laborde continued to advance, at a rapid step, from the deep woods in our front, covered by a legion of tirailleurs, who quickened their pace as they neared our line. Walker now ordered his men to prepare for close attack, and he watched with eagle eye the favorable moment for pouncing on the enemy.

When the latter, in a compact mass, arrived sufficiently up the hill, now bristled with bayonets, the black cuffs poured in a well directed volley upon the dense array. Then, cheering loudly, and led on by its gallant chief, the whole regiment rushed forward to the charge, penetrated the formidable columns, and carried all before it. The confusion into which the panic-struck Frenchmen were thrown it would be difficult to express. No longer able to withstand the British steel, Laborde and his invincibles made a headlong retreat, and never looked behind them till they reached the forest and vineyards in the rear.

As far as the eye could reach over the well planted valley, and across the open country lying beyond the forest, the fugitives were running in wild disorder, their white sheep-skin knapsacks discernible among woods far distant. There were, however, many resolute fellows, who, in retiring, took cover behind the hedgerows, saluting us with parting volleys, which did considerable execution amongst our advancing troops. At length, even this remnant of the vanquished foe, dispersed and broken in piece-meal, betook themselves to flight in every quarter of the field. The ground was thickly strewed with muskets, side arms, bayonets, accoutrements, and well-filled knapsacks, all of which had been hastily flung away as dangerous incumbrances. Several of the packs contained various articles of plunder, including plate in many shapes and forms, which they had robbed from the unfortunate Portuguese. Books of songs, romances, and other commodities of a similar kind, were scattered about in all directions; and many a tender billet-doux lay open to the profane gaze and the laughing comments of the vulgar multitude. It was amusing, after all was over, to see the strange medley of curiosities, that had, doubtless with much pains, been collected by those who lately owned them; and it was with no very nice feelings that a general inspection of the rarities took place, as soon as the defeated army had left the field.

While we were pursuing our opponents, the 20th Light Dragoons, led on by Colonel Taylor, galloped furiously past us, in order to put a finishing stroke to the business, by completing any thing that the infantry might have left undone. The horsemen, unsupported, charging the enemy with impetuosity, and rashly going too far, were involved in a difficulty of which, in their eagerness to overtake the stragglers, they had never thought; for, getting entangled among the trees and vineyards, they could do but little service, and suffered a loss of nearly half their number: their brave commander being also one of those who fell in that desperate onset.

The 43rd regiment was very much cut up, being, while employed in skirmishing, considerably exposed. I noticed at least a subdivision of their men lying killed in a deep gulley or trench, as they fell over each other, from a raking discharge of round or grape shot.

The 50th lost a great proportion of rank and file, which chiefly arose from the fire of the French light troops, while covering their column, and during their retreat. Major Charles Hill was wounded, and Captain A. G. Coote and Lieutenant I. N. Wilson were among the slain.

Upon the bleak surface of the hill, from which the regiment had charged Laborde, we bivouacked that night, and reposed our weary limbs. Although the air was cold, and our situation comfortless, yet, from extreme fatigue, we rested perhaps more soundly than the pampered alderman on his downy couch. A windmill on the summit afforded excellent quarters for the Colonel and his personal staff, while the other officers, less fortunate, crouched together, shivering outside its base.

The 50th took a standard pole and box, which were borne by a serjeant between the colours, as a trophy, during the succeeding campaigns. The French, instead of colours, display a small brass eagle, screwed to a square box of the same metal, both of which are attached to a pole or staff. This eagle is seldom exhibited in the heat of action, the staff being carried as a rallying point, in the same way, and for the same object as our banners.

The army remained on its ground during the 22nd, no measures being taken to follow up the victory that was gained. This inaction arose from Sir Harry Burrard having arrived on the field before the termination of the battle, _assumed_ the command, and given orders that no further hostile movement should take place.

An armistice was now concluded, and the French troops withdrew into Lisbon, where they lay encamped in one of the principal squares. Here they remained, by virtue of the convention of Cintra, until their final embarkation for France, accompanied by their renowned chieftain the celebrated Duke of Abrantes, and bearing away plunder enough to load a ship, and their arms to meet us at some future day, on some other battle-field.[10]

[10] It is a singular fact, that one of those regiments of Junot's army, (the 32nd Light Infantry), was engaged with the 50th at the battle of Corunna, having lost no time in returning to their old trade of basket making.

Chapter IV.

On the 23rd of August we commenced our march to Lisbon. As we passed through the towns and villages that lay in our course, the enthusiasm and delight evinced by the Portuguese, on seeing the English army, was unbounded. Joyful congratulations, and the exulting language of welcome, greeted us as we triumphantly moved along; and, wherever we appeared, the most cordial reception awaited us. In the soldiers of Britain they beheld friends and allies, who had come to deliver their country from the bondage of Napoleon, as well as of French subordinate tyranny and oppression. On this account, the sentiments they entertained towards us, were those of heartfelt gratitude. Those feelings were expressed with vehemence and fervour, not merely by a class or a faction, but by all ranks and ages among the people, who saluted us with loud and deafening huzzas, and with cries of "viva los Ingleses--viva, viva,--viva los officiales! viva muytos annos!" while, as we marched beneath their crowded windows, a shower of garlands, flowers, olive branches, laurels, and other harmless missiles, fell profusely upon us. Entering Lisbon from the North, the 29th, 40th, 50th, and 79th regiments halted upon an elevated space of ground, called the Campo St. Anna, where we lay undisturbed for some days. The inhabitants around entertained the officers in a most liberal manner, their anxious care being to anticipate all our wants and wishes. In the full enjoyment of the variety and amusement of the Capital our time passed rapidly away. Temptations and enticements were not wanting to allure us from the encampment, and pleasure in many shapes appeared on every side. The Opera was well attended by those who ventured at a late hour through the long narrow streets and passages; but the pedestrian found this by no means an agreeable excursion, for it is the custom here to throw out from the windows sundry fluids, not of the most savoury nature, and while the generous inmate shrieks out, "take care below!" he, at the same instant, by way of a salute, pours the contents of his pail or bucket on the pate of the luckless passenger.

The French soldiers, who occupied the Praça de Rocio, frequently insulted the British officers who were returning from the theatre. Having to pass their camp one night, in company with a friend, both of us were challenged by the sentries, who, not waiting our reply, despatched a bullet to detain us. This caused us to quicken our pace without delay, lest they should think proper to send a second messenger of the same kind, which might put an effectual stop to our further progress. With their officers, however, we were on good terms; and, while holding conversation with them, at the coffee-houses, where we met, on the subject of our late proceedings, we found them generally pleasant, intelligent men. As long as the French remained, our duties were severe; we being, on their account, kept pretty much on the alert. I must confess, however, that mounting guard upon the convent of San Vincento was not the most harassing of those duties; for the priests, and other holy characters lodged therein, were a jolly, convivial set of fellows, and regaled us handsomely upon the best of dainties, plying their guests with oceans of capital wine, which the well-fed clerigos extracted from the nethermost chambers of their venerable abode.

The intruders, bag and baggage, having finally embarked upon the Tagus, a considerable portion of the garrison of Lisbon was directed to proceed to Monte Santo, a favourable situation on the road to Cintra, and about four miles from the city. We reached that place on the 28th of September, and remained encamped there for a month. At this period, Colonel Walker being promoted, the command of our regiment devolved on Major Charles Napier, who had recently arrived from the 2nd battalion in order to relieve Major Hill, wounded at Vimeiro. The Honorable Major Stanhope and Ensign David Leslie also joined about the same time.

Orders having been issued for us to march through Portugal, for the purpose of joining General Sir John Moore, at Salamanca, the 50th regiment set out from Monte Santo on the 28th of October, at 6 o'clock in the morning. The weather was dark, with heavy rain, which fell on us most unmercifully until we got to Lisbon. We travelled by the main road to Abrantes, along the right bank of the Tagus, and, halting at Sacavem, arrived on the following day at Villa Franca. The inhabitants, on our route, were most hospitable; receiving us with a heartiness of welcome to which we had been unaccustomed in other lands. On the 30th we got into Azambuja: the road was passable enough, though in some parts rough and hilly, winding along the course of the river, which rolled between deep and thickly wooded banks. Continuing, on the 31st, through the same description of country, we entered Santarem, after a pleasant though somewhat sultry march.

The city of Santarem consists of several narrow, dark, and ill-paved streets, the houses paltry looking, and badly built, having heavy sombre windows, grated with massive iron bars, like those of their prisons. Balconies, with painted railings thrown across, relieve in some degree this melancholy aspect, but the dingy hues, added to the meanness of the streets, give the place an air of poverty and wretchedness. On our reaching the house where we were billetted, the landlord, with his worse or scolding half, ushered us into a comfortless apartment; where, in a dark corner, stood a miserable bed, which seemed to have had other occupants than human beings. On our exclaiming against this uninviting dormitory, the old crone, grumbling inwardly, conducted us to another chamber, where the domestics, and different members of the family, were busily engaged in a deadly war against the numerous population of each others heads. Starting from their interesting employment, they left us quietly in possession of the room where lay two mattresses on the unswept floor; on these we were to repose, not without the prospect of a sharp attack from the fugitives of that army with which our Portuguese hosts had been so hotly engaged.

Yet, in spite of circumstances of this kind, the life of a soldier on service, taking all things together, is the finest in the world. While he moves on, a roving adventurer, care, pain and trouble are banished from his mind; and though he is at times on short commons, and often driven to his wits' end, he but seldom repines. His sufferings give him a greater relish for the enjoyment of any good things that may be forthcoming, or any windfall that Fortune may throw in his way. Once fairly on the road, it is astonishing how rapidly the hours glide away. The formalities of parade or drill marching are now at an end, and every one indulges in that mode of perambulation which best suits him. When the commanding officer is not one of your strict disciplinarians, the regimental juniors congregate together in groups, some in front, some in rear; while the men, though keeping their sections, travel in open ranks, filling the entire space of ground over which the route extends.

At the head of the column, is to be seen a host of seniors, or old hands, among whom the laugh and joke prevail; and there many a long-winded veteran inflicts upon the ears of his patient auditors a narrative as endless as the road. Ever and anon the second Major falls back, and, in order to shew his consequence and zeal, especially if a General with his staff should chance to be passing, he calls out, in a most important tone, "Gentlemen, get into your places!" "keep on the flanks!" and other friendly admonitions. As soon as he is convinced, by the approving looks of the great man with the long feather and epaulettes, that his vigilance has been duly noticed, he gallops off to his old station, and the gentlemen betake themselves again to theirs, till another appearance of the chief, when the stray sheep are again called back to the flock. By the by, I know of nothing else that these second Majors have to do, unless it be to act the part of moveable pivots for dressing up the line, (in which they are generally very fussy), or in whipping-in the young subalterns, whom they endeavour to keep in order.

The surgeon, who is often a very hearty fellow, with better things than boluses and pill boxes in his panniers--together with the adjutant, and his brethren of the staff, attract around them, in the rear, a batch of thoroughly pleasant men, who keep up such a volley of jest and drollery, as frequently to beguile the weariness of the longest march. Thanks to their amusing powers, we have often found ourselves at the gates of the town, or on the camp ground, without being aware that we had travelled any distance.

At intervals of one or two hours, each day, the troops are halted for a few minutes' rest. Then, all, as if by magic wand, are quickly squatted, and haversack being called for, the whole of them, like hungry cormorants at their prey, are soon engaged in one grand scene of mastication. Some perform a solo on the shank-bone of a well picked ham; others display their talents on the drumstick of a half-starved fowl; while the majority gnaw their way through the skinny junk of an old tough bullock. The vultures and other birds of evil omen are, meanwhile, hovering in mid air, ready to pounce upon the remnants of the feast when we are gone.

At the well-known sound of pipes, or bugle, the warriors are again (to use a parliamentary phrase) on their legs, stretching them out with renewed vigour. Among the soldiers there is likewise much of drollery and mirth, nothing makes much difference with them--it matters not whether trumps turn up or not; whether the chance be a battle, or a good billet, they are still the same, and trudge along devoid of care. Give them their allowance, and a little rest, and they require no more. Day after day I have listened to their jokes and stories, and been highly entertained by their originality and humour.

In the 2nd division, a pack of hounds accompanied the troops, and, whenever a favourable opportunity occurred, they were let loose, and an excellent _view halloo_ was frequently afforded, to the great delight of the sporting characters in our line.

The Commissary, with his long and short horned regiment, marched at a convenient distance, attended by their executioners; while the train of bullock carts, laden with provender and other stores, brings up the rear. The heavy, dull, monotonous drone, arising from the friction of the cartwheels, is heard for miles, while the jingling of the bells, with which the mules are garnished, produces a concert that rings in the head of the hearer for days and nights together, answering all the purpose of an itinerant serenade.

But we must break off from this digression; for it is time to resume our march towards Salamanca.

We quitted Santarem on the third of November, and soon got into a pleasant road, winding along the banks of the Tagus, through a dark forest of olive trees, the branches of which overhung our path, and formed a refreshing shade. Marching over the summit of a barren height, we reached the Zezere, a small but rapid stream, which here falls into the Tagus. This river we crossed by a bridge of boats, and halted at Punhete, on the opposite side, where we occupied some crazy buildings, which were deserted by the inhabitants. Through a tract by no means interesting we then held our course, on the 10th, and arrived at Neisa. The ill-fed, half-clothed, and meagre Portuguese, unused to the inundation of so many soldiers, were stupified or panic struck, flying like savage animals on our approach. The weather was harsh, and the wind, moaning through the open casements, penetrated into every hole and corner of their dwellings. Little comforted by repose, our march was still continued, until we entered a range of bleak and rugged mountains, at the base of which is situated the well-known pass of Villa Velha, which takes its name from an adjacent village, and intercepts the communication on the great road into Spain.

Here the Tagus, again opening to our view, is contracted into a very narrow space, and rushes with violence between the impending rocks; on either hand the steep and lofty precipices being cleft, as if by an earthquake, form an almost impassable barrier to the progress of an army.

A pontoon bridge had been thrown across, but this was destroyed by the French, whose troops were last upon the route, and we were therefore forced to hire three small row-boats, from the Portuguese, by which the regiment was conveyed to the opposite bank, after being long detained, owing to the rapidity of the current, impeding all our efforts to get on.

Our route traversing the boundaries of Portugal, was, in many places, overgrown with brushwood, and crossed at intervals, by rivulets. Huge stones and roots of trees lay scattered here and there. The wearied soldiers toiled with difficulty along, under the most tempestuous weather, the inclemency of which was severely felt in those Alpine regions, where the cold was so excessive as to require the hardest bodily exercise to withstand its influence. In order to keep the men alive, the band and drums were frequently put in requisition, which had a marvellous effect; and our Commander, Major Napier, occasionally ordered some well-known national quickstep, when, in a moment, as if by magic, those who were tired and jaded sprung up, endued as it were with additional life and vigour, and, giving the knapsack a cast upon the shoulder, stepped out once more with fresh spirit. The music, as we approached the towns, had the twofold purpose of pleasing the inhabitants and cheering on the troops. Even the lame and weakly, although weighed down by the heavy burthen which they carried, exerted their remaining strength to make a bold appearance. On the line of march, for many a tedious league, did the officers use every means to animate their men, by giving them an example of patient endurance under every suffering. The Field Officers and Staff alone, were allowed to ride at that time; the other ranks, although from previous habits less able than even the privates to bear fatigue, had no alternative but to trudge it with their companies from day to day.

The young recruits and drummers felt the hardship most, and often upon the journey has Major Napier given his charger to one of them, or to any poor fellow who could not well get on, while with a musket, or sometimes a brace of them, on his shoulder, he walked before the regiment. Thus, by his considerate kindness for the men, he was securing to himself that respect and estimation in which they always held him, as well as actuating them to perform their duty in a manner worthy of one who, whether in quarters or in the field, never spared himself whenever an opportunity offered to promote their comfort.

The poverty of the oppressed and ill-used natives, wherever our course lay, was lamentable; the French, according to their regular system, carried famine and desolation in their train; paying for nothing, they drew their supplies by force of arms, and their marauding foragers overran the surrounding districts, forcing the peasantry, as well as those who lived in towns, to pay the expenses of their barbarous invasion. In consequence of the ravages committed on the people, there was nothing in their markets, or their shops, "a beggarly account of empty boxes;" and the lean and sallow proprietors were proofs sufficient of the unhappy state in which their land was placed. They were so terrified, that it was difficult to prevail on them to sell even what they could spare.--Upon demanding what we could obtain from them, the reply at all times was, "no hai nada aqui," or, "we have nothing here." Seeing us rather incredulous, and on being again requested, they would persist in the refusal, with a shrug of the shoulders, and passing the fore finger twice across the nose, crying out, "nada, nada;" but, when the finger was three times moved quickly over the nasal organ, with the scream of "nada, nada, nada," the affair was finally settled, and there was no further appeal from this hopeless gesticulation.

Even when by great good luck, there was something to be had, there was still an obstacle in the way. In those days we were often puzzled by the language, and in trying to make ourselves understood, were forced to resort to a great variety of expedients. When our broken and disjointed phrases failed, we were driven to the use of signs and hieroglyphics; suiting the action to the word, we explained our wants by distorting the limbs and body into strange figures, symbolical of the article required. Officers and men were alike in this dilemma; and fortunate was the lucky genius who could jabber, though in a most indifferent way, for he was sure to get to windward of his less favoured comrades. The market-place was a stage, upon which many a brainless youth, with much more gold upon his jacket than ever his pocket carried, shewed off his slender stock of Portuguese, and palmed himself upon the natives as a person of the utmost consequence. Others expressed their wishes in a sort of gibberish, formed out of scraps of English, German, French and Latin, but without a syllable of the language wanted. The soldiers used a most extraordinary dialect, compounded of Irish, Gaelic, and the mother tongue, interlarded with a good supply of oaths, by which to impress the subject on the head-piece of the patient countrymen, who underwent their curses, rage, and sometimes worse, when the cry of "no intendes" was uttered by them.

As to signs and gestures, they were as varied as the movements of a posture-master or even punchinello. When pork or any thing pertaining to the hog, was wanted, grunting in imitation of that animal, was the means employed. The desire for eggs was signified by cackling like a hen; was a mule or jackass required, the hands were stuck up on each side above the head, to denote the length of ears, or an awful braying was put forth, enough to call the brotherhood about the performer; tobacco or snuff was demanded by a sneeze, followed, in many cases, by a tweak upon the organ in which the filthy powder was to be deposited; and milk was procured by imitating the extraction of that useful fluid from the cow. In short, for every thing there was a corresponding signal, a code of which would have formed an excellent appendage to a soldier's kit.

We arrived at Guarda in the midst of storm and rain, half drowned and miserable. Well do I remember the bitterness of the day, while toiling up the steep ascent that led us to the gates of that old town. Seeing our deplorable trim, the owner of the dwelling where we were billetted acted with true Christian humanity; he had dry clothes in readiness, together with large wood fires, hot wine, and cordials; and, by his benevolent care, we were restored to the full enjoyment of those comforts which he so generously bestowed; I have very seldom, if ever, met with such an instance of disinterested and genuine hospitality.

We now passed the frontier of Portugal into Spain, and halted for a night at Ciudad Rodrigo. On approaching the city, we were horrified by the sight of lofty gibbets, four of which were planted on the entrances, having appended to each the quarters of some unfortunate malefactor, whose limbs were blackening in the sun. These sickening emblems of their cruelty impressed us with no very good opinion of the people with whom we were about to hold friendly intercourse; and their conduct on this night was quite in character with their gibbets. A more atrocious set of men we never had the honour of being acquainted with; and so much did they appear in favour of our enemies, that we were convinced they would gladly have delivered us into their hands, if it had been in their power to do so. An officer of the 79th unfortunately got involved in a dispute, and, while passing through one of their dark and narrow streets, was barbarously assassinated by an unknown hand. The troops being obliged to march next morning, at an early hour, it was impossible to discover by whom the murder was committed; and, indeed, we were then so circumstanced, with respect to the Spanish people, that we could not closely investigate the affair. Ample vengeance, however, fell upon this city when the French got in; and in the assault and capture of the place, in 1812, plunder and destruction was its fate: on our return to Portugal, it presented to our view a heap of burned and desolated ruins.

The part of the country through which we now marched appeared one vast plain of immeasurable extent. The heavy rains were succeeded by a gentle fall of snow; and the surface of the ground was crisped by a light pleasant frost, rendering the highway perfectly hard, smooth, and level, and most agreeable to our pedestrian feelings.

About 2 P.M. on the 25th of November, the turrets, domes, and spires, of the justly celebrated city of Salamanca were discernible, above the sandy heights by which they are encompassed. Crossing the Tormes, by means of a long antique bridge, we ascended the street leading into the great square, the windows and balconies of which were filled with the delighted people; while the countless multitudes around gave utterance to the most sincere and warm expressions of welcome, highly gratifying to us, after the murderous reception which had been given to our troops by the treacherous renegades of Rodrigo. Well pleased to find ourselves at last, after our long and harassing journey, within the gates of this interesting and ancient seat of learning, we could not refrain from giving vent to the gladness by which we were inspired, and joined our voices with those of the Spaniards, in cheering heartily as we approached.

Having secured the billets, I proceeded, along with my friend Moore, to the house allotted for our habitation, which was situated in a narrow and rather lonely street, adjoining the walls of the great cathedral, the projecting and massive turrets of which hung with solemn majesty over our humble dwelling. The patron, who was one of the officiating ministers of this church, was a man of most important exterior, with a countenance expressive of the full enjoyment of every comfort. In this respect, however, we could not aver that he was selfish; for, upon our admittance within his holy abode, our worthy host left no means untried by which to manifest the ardour of his feelings, and the high regard in which he held the English soldiers. From his well-stored pantry he plied us with every luxury: without much bashfulness or hesitation, we helped ourselves to the dainty fare, and, joined by the generous padre, we filled out large potations of his sparkling wines, in a manner that would have done credit to the most zealous bon vivant. Our venerable divine was a true disciple of that school, of which his rotundity of figure, and rosy, shining visage, were "confirmations strong as proofs of holy writ."

In Salamanca we found every preparation going forward for the advance of the army, and Sir John Moore waiting for the division under General Hope, then on its march through the South of Portugal by the Alentejo. In the meantime, we enjoyed ourselves very much, in the variety arising from the presence of so large a portion of the troops assembled here. The officers of our regiments were no less highly gratified than we were, by the affability and kindness of the people, who exerted themselves to make our residence among them as happy as we could possibly desire.

Lieutenant Hugh Birchall, of the Light Company, discovered an old acquaintance, from his native town in Ireland, in the person of a Spanish priest; who had, a few years since, come to this place, for the purpose of finishing his classical education, and obtaining a higher polish than the bogs of his native country could afford, preparatory to his entering on the holy office. The reverend divine, who eventually became a member of the clerical establishment here, introduced us to his brothers of the cloth, who, though they treated all with hospitality, directed their attention more particularly to the Hibernians, whom, considering as _bon Christianos_, they entertained with all the warmth of brotherly affection. Father Patrick, as the Irishman was called, maintained the character of his country for the convivial virtues, and he proved an excellent cicerone to all the lions of this very respectable city.

Chapter V.

Lieutenant General Sir John Hope's division having arrived at head quarters, the whole of the allied forces, under Sir John Moore, marched out of Salamanca on the 12th of December, 1808. The snow was lying deep on the ground; and, although the atmosphere was clear and bracing, yet the wintry and desolate appearance of all around was rather discouraging, as we faced the northern blast, coming down most wrathfully upon us, from the wild mountains of Biscay and Navarre. After passing through Toro, and other good towns, we at length halted at Sahagun, a small place, in front of which our advanced guards were posted. Here we lay encamped until the 25th, on the morning of which day the whole army was on the move, and the memorable retreat to Corunna was commenced. The troops entered upon the high road leading into Galicia, followed by 80,000 French soldiers, commanded by the renowned conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, in person.

The operations of this part of the campaign have been made well known by the public records; avoiding all detail, I shall, therefore, confine myself to those circumstances that happened within my own knowledge, or that may have occurred in the regiment with which I served.

Lord William Bentinck's brigade, in the 1st division, was composed of the 4th, or King's Own, Colonel Wynch:--42nd, Royal Highlanders, Colonel Sterling:--50th, Queen's Own, Major Napier.

The division was commanded by General Sir David Baird, a man with a look of military daring, and as brave as a lion. By his presence and example, the troops, (whom he never quitted,) were encouraged to proceed with order and regularity, notwithstanding the sufferings they underwent, under the painful circumstances of a retreat; and it was not until mind and body had lost all spirit and energy, that disorder or want of discipline shewed itself among the ranks. Exposed, as they were, to the most unparalleled inclemency of weather, they submitted, without a murmur, to a continuance of hard and trying service, enough to bear down the strongest constitution. To describe minutely the whole of the privations and miseries which they encountered, would far exceed the powers of any human being: no one can possibly conceive the full extent of what the soldiers were compelled to undergo, in the course of this unfortunate campaign.

The passage of the Esla, a wide and rapid torrent, was an enterprise attended with considerable loss and danger. On arriving at the margin of the river, there seemed hardly a hope of being able to get across, with so much violence did the current roll: and, uncertain as we were of the part most fordable, it was a perilous attempt for those who undertook to make the trial. There was, however, no alternative; to the other side we were to go, at any risk, for, the enemy pressing closely at our heels, the slightest delay would have produced fatal results. We therefore dashed at it, and nobly did the men perform their duty. Agreeable as the cool, refreshing stream may be in mild regions, it was by no means a very delightful task to wade past one's middle, or rather up to the neck, through the raging waters, upon a bleak and cheerless day in December. There was no use whatever in making any preparation, or in disrobing for the bath; in fact, there was no time, but with all our harness on, we were compelled to make the best way we could in the chilling promenade. Luckily a spot was found, by which the advance was sent across, and the infantry, following their leaders, struggled along, bearing their arms and ammunition above the head. After much difficulty, plunging and buffetting the angry flood, the whole at length succeeded in gaining the opposite bank; from whence, having "shaken off the watery dew-drops," and ranged ourselves in some sort of order for another stretch, we pushed away by the main road leading into the mountains.

The advantage of lofty stature was highly conspicuous in this affair, for the man of towering height strutted above the wave, with no small pride on his extent of longitude; while the poor, insignificant fellow of Lilliputian build, looked pitifully up at his more fortunate companion, bemoaning his diminutive size, as the muddy fluid either washed his pericranium, or flowed in copious volumes down his unwilling throat. As for those ill-fated damsels, our faithful attendants through storm and sunshine, it had been far better for them that they had never left their home; for, by their desire to follow the drum, they entailed upon themselves a world of trouble, and miseries enough to drain their patience to the lowest ebb. Here I gladly record the valuable services of those poor women, who, devoted to their husbands and children, underwent a series of bitter suffering almost beyond human endurance.

Toiling with their regiments through thick and thin, they never failed in their duties, and proved, in camp as well as in quarters, the most active and persevering in giving aid and useful service, whenever it might be required. Patient under every thing, they were always at hand, foraging, cooking, and rendering all kinds of assistance; while the men, borne down by hard fatigue, were often unable to help themselves. In fact, without the labours of the fair sex, we should not have been able to get on; and I shall ever respect the heroine, who has completed the range of her accomplishments, by having served with honour a campaign or two.

By forced marches, night and day, we at last arrived at Lugo, a large town on the road to Corunna; and in its vicinity, the army was drawn up in order of battle. We fully expected, from the confident manner in which the French troops were brought into the position in our front, that an opportunity would now be afforded of giving them a warming in this cold weather. After waiting, however, for nearly two days, they declined the honour of our services; and their columns closing up, in numbers far superior to that of our force, it was deemed advisable to withdraw from the field, when there was no advantage to be gained by maintaining our ground.

In consequence of the rapid pace at which we moved, the Commissariat was altogether unavailable; and, depending on the remnant of four days provisions, our lantern jaws were getting impatient for active service; for, however briskly the nether limbs might be engaged, it was quite evident that our jaws were idle, and would never prosper by their indolence. In this matter there was no respect of persons; pockets full of cash were of no particular use, nothing was to be obtained for love or money. Desolation and its accompanying train of horrors were our companions, and General Starvation, with his two aid-de-camps, Hunger and Thirst, with all the rest of his personal staff, were constantly at our elbow.

Sauntering into Lugo one day, I chanced to drop into a crazy building, the roof of which had been torn up for fire wood. There, in a dark corner, somewhat resembling a dog kennel, and where some straw had just been scattered, I espied a group of militants, busily employed about something, but about what I could not well determine. Upon closer inspection, however, it appeared that these heroes, most of whom rejoiced in the title of Colonels or Majors, were in conclave about the discussion (not of a tactical movement), but of an ill-looking fowl, that seemed from his lanky sides as if "sharp misery had worn him to the bones," or as if he had died a natural death some length of time past.--It was nevertheless a dainty morsel to them, and they were gallantly tearing it limb from limb, and gnawing the meagre skeleton, at the time I entered. I departed from a place where the craving intruder was not a welcome guest, and joined the camp, to feed on visions of the past, and ruminate on better things to come.

The greatest suffering we endured was want of sleep. In our nocturnal wanderings, those who were exhausted and overcome with fatigue, (and few were not,) supported themselves between the men; and, each leaning on his neighbour, dozing wearily along, would every now and then waken up by a sudden bump, or push, against the knapsack of the man in front; thus, alternately bumping and dozing, we travelled with a staggering pace through the dreary and wintry road. Those who were made of weather-proof and tough materials kept their places in the ranks, while others, of more feeble frame and constitution, unable to withstand the terrible effect of cold and drifting snow, of famine and want of rest, sunk to the earth, upon the bleak and barren mountain, where they speedily perished, or fell into the hands of the enemy. Heavily burthened as the men were with ammunition, there was but a small proportion of them who were able to maintain their situation in the ranks.

Lieutenant McCarthy, of our regiment, an excellent old officer and intrepid soldier, was among those who suffered most from excessive fatigue. He kept up as long as he had the power, but being somewhat worn out by hard service, he was indifferently calculated to weather out the rough work of this retreat. Faint and half frozen, he fell in the snow, and giving himself up to despair, lay for a considerable period in an insensible condition. Meanwhile some of his companions, having missed poor Mac from his accustomed place, quickly retraced their steps, and found him almost lifeless on the cold earth. By giving him a few drops of rum, they in some degree restored him to his senses, and raising his drooping head, they helped him forward to the next halting place, from whence he struggled on to Corunna, where he was severely wounded in the subsequent battle. It was about this time that General Anstruther died, in consequence of privations and exposure to the dreadful weather.

The weather, for the greater part of our march, was unusually desperate; the mountains, by which we were surrounded, were covered with deep snow, and over the dreary waste the wind in piercing blasts swept violently, driving the hail and sleet in our faces, so as to render it a most difficult matter to get along. At intervals, rain poured down with such tremendous force, that our open and straggling columns were compelled to halt, and close up into a solid body, in order that only the exterior of the mass might be exposed to the pelting fury of the storm. To clear away the snow from the spot on which we halted was our first employment, at the termination of each day's journey; and a most delightful frigid bedchamber was modeled out, the damp ground our couch, with the canopy of heaven for a curtain; the furniture was completed by the fragment of a rock, turning the softest side of which upwards, to make it serve for a pillow, our slumbers, during the few short moments allowed for repose, were sound though unrefreshing. Occasionally crowding in groups around a huge fire, when wood could be obtained, (which was not always the case), we gathered in without much ceremony, with our feet towards the blazing faggots, and stretched ourselves out, somewhat after the manner of wild animals, patiently awaiting the unwelcome summons that was to start us from our cold and cheerless lair.

It was truly melancholy to behold this dismal picture of the exterminating consequences of war. The ravages unavoidably committed by the troops were excessive. The weather and season of the year caused it to be almost impossible to procure timber for fuel, otherwise than by destroying the miserable hovels, that lay dispersed among the hollows and ravines of these wild regions. The frame-work of doors and windows, as well as that of the roof, were put in requisition, the extreme emergency of the case demanding such resources, without which the army must have been inevitably lost.

Sir David Baird was most indefatigable in his exertions, riding with the column, passing along both flanks,[11] urging on the weary troops, at the same time keeping them in their ranks, and, by his orders and presence, enforcing upon the officers the necessity of attending minutely to every point of duty. Where the roads were broken up by the rapid mountain streams, he took post near the stepping-stones, laid by former travellers across the brooks, compelling all without exception to pass on through the water, however deep it might be, in order that no delay or impediment should obstruct the movements of the army.--He was equally vigilant to frustrate any attempt to plunder, and, in many cases, he made the officer stand at the door of the wine house, to stop the admission of those men, who might fall out with that intention upon the line of march. A more intrepid soldier I have never seen. Of powerful stature, with a bold stern aspect, he bore in his sunburnt countenance the indication of a mind equally strong and vigorous as his body, and wherever he was stationed, military discipline was carried on with a degree of strictness, worthy alone of such a warlike and determined man.

[11] While Sir David Baird and his satellites were bustling about from one flank to another, driving every one through the water without mercy, several of the knowing hands devised sundry schemes to cross the chasm dryshod; some would take a run for it, and with a hop, step and a jump get safe past the rubicon; others, in the vain attempt, were baulked half way, and, splashing on, encountered the frigid element. But, to the men, it was the best sport imaginable, to see some mighty precise and finical dandy, who, as unwilling as a cat to wet his feet, was most cautiously picking his steps, completely discomfited by the coming up of Sir David in a rage, who, reprimanding him in no very gentle tones, would send the poor shivering exquisite to perambulate the stream, to the no small chagrin of our hero, and to the delight of the whole brigade. The equestrians and gentlemen of the staff were, in general, not over compassionate; but, chuckling up in their comfortable saddles, joined in the general outcry of merriment, and in their capacity of whippers in resumed their occupation.

While going through the small town of Villa Franca, which is seated in the midst of a chain of mountains, a dépôt of clothing and provisions was thrown open, and the contents thereof flung out quickly to the troops, who, having no time to halt, were puzzled as to how those things were to be disposed of. Shoes were eagerly grasped at, the men trying them on as they hastily passed along. There was no fastidious picking and choosing here, nor were we over nice as to the shape and quality of the article; whether they were the handy-work of Hoby or of humbler origin was never enquired about. Such as they were they proved to many a boon most welcome. Yet some discomfort arose from them in several instances. Here might be seen a man pinched and tottering along, making such wry faces as though he were undergoing a course of torture; while not far from him shuffled along another, in shoes, or rather churns, that were capacious enough for the feet of the Irish giant.

It was painful to behold the anxiety of the poor fellows to get some relief to their hunger; and when the pieces of salt beef and pork were thrown to them, by the commissary from the storehouse gates, they were seized upon with the same avidity with which John Bull would pounce upon plum-pudding or fat bacon; how these delicacies were to be cooked, was a difficult question to be resolved. Speared on points of swords, or transfixed with bayonet, pike, or other weapon, the exquisite morsels of junk were borne aloft triumphant to the first halting place. Few of them, however, found their way to the end of the day's march; for the men, fearing that time would not permit the dressing of the tempting viands, pitched most of them to the crows and vultures, resorting to the more accustomed and feasible luxuries of tommy (bread) and rum. Flour was likewise doled out to them in scanty pittance; but no means of culinary operation being at hand, the pulverized allowance was scattered to the winds, the luckless warriors being left to feast upon their own melancholy thoughts, or take their dinners with Duke Humphrey.

A few of the more cunning among the oldest stagers mixed up a sort of tough consistence of this same flour, with a solution of snow in dirty water, and with the aid of a flat smooth stone, by way of table, manufactured a composition, something in form and substance not unlike a nine pound shot, and which might be converted to the same use. This bit of delicate pastry, which was called a doughboy, was sometimes crammed into the haversack for future provender, and the unfortunate genius who could not manage to bake the treasured lump, devoured it ravenously in its moist and tender state. The hard sea-biscuit, soaked in rum, was a much more agreeable article of food, and it was more convenient and more readily attained than any thing else.

During occasional halts, and when we could snatch a few moments from the hands of old father Time, we contrived to get some water boiled, and, O happy man! that could succeed in procuring a decoction of the Chinese plant: still more fortunate was he who had even a brief space allowed, to enjoy the refreshing beverage, for often, while in the act of introducing the burning fluid to our impatient mouths, the old adage of 'the cup and the lip,' was verified to our cost, the aforesaid cup with its contents being hastily thrown away, after scalding our hungry as well as angry chops; the French, in a most officious manner, choosing, like Paul Pry, to intrude at that particular period upon our tantalizing and forbidden cheer.

Passing Nogales, Constantine, and other places on the route, we traversed the mountain road that wound in zigzags along the barren sides of the precipice; the wilderness by which we were surrounded having a most dreary aspect. From the promontory between Villa Franca and the latter village the money chests were overturned, and the doubloons and dollars were scattered among the rocks, from whence they rolled into the dark abyss below, forming a precious cascade of gold and silver, enough to tantalize the craving rapacity of a Jew. Many of the wanderers from the ranks got their purses lined, and it was said, that, in the attempts to gather up the cash, some fell down the steep, and were dashed to pieces in the chasms, by which the heights were intersected.

The Paymaster's trade was, in those days, quite a sinecure; with his hands thrust into his empty pockets, he was a gentleman at large, whose pay-day was a dead letter, and whose muster-roll was getting into a very reduced compass.

It was a pitiable sight, at this period, to behold the forlorn condition of the women and the children. Those who could not get upon baggage waggons, trudged along with painful steps, scarcely able to bear up the weight by which they were encumbered. Many sank during the bitter night famished, way-worn, and in the snow, with infants at their breasts, or in their arms, and in this situation were found lifeless and frozen on the following morning. Others took refuge from the storm on the dismantled ammunition carts, that lay about the road, and, trying to get shelter there, perished with their children on this frail tenement as they crouched in groups together.

The whole exhibition was one of appalling wretchedness, that would harrow up the feelings even of those who had long been familiar with lamentable scenes. The entire _materiel_ of the army became a total wreck, from which comparatively small were the numbers that escaped, and but few were able to keep up with their colours upon the line of march.

Our clothes were worn to rags, the jacket being no better than "a thing of shreds and patches," metamorphosed from red to a sort of muddy claret colour; and as for shoes, O, what a falling off was there! with sole and body in a state of separation, the partnership was about to be dissolved.--They could not be said to have held out to the last, for as they approached their end, they were something like the Irishman's brogues, that were happily supplied with holes to let the water out as fast as it rushed in, and gave our feet the advantage of an excellent portable bath. The other garments were in good keeping; unmentionables, of every shade and colour, were inexpressibly worn out, and pieced in a manner that would have qualified the wearer to perform the part of Harlequin. The whole attire was surmounted by a nondescript article, vulgarly called a cocked hat, which, glazed with a substance that had once had a polish, formed a good reservoir for rain, its angular point answering the purpose of a waterspout, while the flap hanging over the dorsal region, like that of a London coal heaver, imparted to the owner, a look of a most dubious character.

Our personal charms could not by any means be made the subject of admiration, not even the best of us could vie with Adonis on that head; on the contrary, we might have rivalled the living skeleton, and many an ambitious tyro, who at home was pampered and well fed, was now attenuated into the lathy form of a spectre, and would not on any account have presumed to offer himself as a candidate for the civic chair. Of exercise and early rising we had an abundance, and as those things are said to be conducive to health, we ought to have been the most vigorous of the human race.

To the sad deterioration of costume which I have described, there was, however, one brilliant exception. It was displayed by an officer of ours, Lieutenant *****, who entertained us much by the way in which he managed matters. In the worst of times, when the rain and wind fell desperately on us during the retreat, and all were, as I have already said, covered with mud and dirt, and drenched from head to foot, with nothing beautiful to be seen about us, this lovely youth, a _diamond_ of the first _water_, the very quintessence of an exquisite, seemed on all occasions as if emerged from the limits of a bandbox. His raiment and general attire fresh from the mint, he must at least, like King Richard, have had "a score or two of tailors" to adorn his person. Whether it was that he was purified by the frequent showers, or from what other source he derived his amiable appearance, I know not, but it is certain that we were completely puzzled by the magic of his toilet; and had Beau Brummel ever ventured on the field of Mars he would have resigned his claim, as prince of dandies, to our hero. I knew of only one man in the service who could approach him, and that was a well known Captain of the 34th. ***** retired soon after from the army, and cannot fail like his prototype of old, the famous Nash, wherever he may flourish, (if in this world), to be the leader of the ton, and the observed of all observers.

Towards the beginning of January, (1809) it was reported that the shipping, for our conveyance to England, had arrived in the Bay of Corunna, and it therefore became a matter of doubt whether or not we should have a field-day with our pursuers, before the time of embarkation. With the utmost energy that men could display, the enemy, however, anxious not to lose the opportunity of obtaining, as he imagined, a certain triumph, put forth his strength to reach the coast as early as he could, and consequently our rear guard, consisting of the Light Division, was not allowed a moment's rest. Followed by great superiority of numbers, the natural difficulty of the ground, combined with astonishing exertions, alone enabled them to check the foe. Their vigilance and valour were fully put to the proof, and never did men acquit themselves better on such an arduous duty than did these soldiers.

Whenever we gained the summit of a hill, all eyes were on the watch to catch a glimpse of the long looked out for ships. One height after another was ascended, but still nothing was in sight; before us lay, in wearisome perspective, the same tedious road, that seemed as though it were never to have an end. It was a wide, well-beaten track, the distances from Corunna being marked in leagues upon huge granite pillars, or, Hibernically speaking, _milestones_. The inscription upon them being oftentimes illegible or defaced, we asked some wandering peasant, who might perchance appear, the space we had to travel; but we could hardly ever get a correct reply, for though the stupid fellow told us that we had not more than half a league to go, we generally found it more than two leagues; sometimes the brainless oaf screamed _poquito mais_ (a little bit more), this _little bit_ turning out at least a league, or upwards, of very honest measure. It was provoking to be thus baffled and disappointed, but there was no remedy, and the jaded itinerants kept travelling onwards, in the same dull route. At length the long wished for Bay was spread out before us; but alas! no fleet was there! The spirits of all from the height of joy as suddenly fell below zero, and the misery of hope deferred was now to be endured. The soldiers, however, soon brightened up, when told that there would still be time sufficient to give the French a drubbing; and this idea made every man spring out with a fresh supply of ardour that carried them right through.

Chapter VI.

On the 12th of January the 1st brigade, under General Lord William Bentinck, marched into Corunna. Proceeding along the main street, by the harbour side, the 50th was halted in front of a large convent, near the citadel, where in a short time the regiment was quartered. After such a protracted course of hard service, and ceaseless marching, the quietness of even a temporary rest was a luxury most highly valued; although we knew not at what moment we might be called again into the field.

While we were stationed here, the great magazine of powder, situated about three miles off, was blown into the air, with such an awful explosion, that the sound thereof reached the distant mountains, and shook, as if by some volcanic agency, the buildings of the town. We were not prepared for the event, which took place at an early hour, and while a few of us were seated around our canteens at breakfast, in one of the convent rooms. Suddenly a violent concussion was felt, and then a thundering noise was heard, that made the ancient fabric reel, and tremble on its base, and rattled the tiles and shingle of the spacious roof about our ears. We were amazed, I may almost say horror-struck, beyond expression, and a number of confused ideas rapidly crossed our minds; some declared it was an earthquake, others, that the enemy's cannon were battering at the walls; no one guessed at the real cause. In a state of consternation, expecting that a second peal would annihilate our tenement, and bury us in its ruins, we made a rush for the doorway, where we met the Adjutant, who explained to us the whole affair; and this turmoil of fire and gunpowder died away in smoke.

On the 15th, our brigade marched out of Corunna, and going about two miles from the gates, was drawn up in position upon the extremity of a chain of heights, extending in a semicircular form towards the North. This movement was made in consequence of the decision of Sir John Moore to give the enemy battle; for, the transports not having come round from Vigo, (into which port they had been blown by contrary winds), he determined to make one grand effort, and maintain the honour of the British army. It would thus be seen that, however irregular his troops had been, upon a difficult march, they were well prepared to meet the foe; and that their high character for steadiness, as well as courage, would never fail when called upon in the hour of danger; proving at the same time, that in the cause of England, "every man would do his duty."

Sir John Moore himself, almost worn out by constant anxiety, arising from various unforeseen causes, was yet endued with mental force as strong as ever; and, abundant in resources, he never lost that coolness and self-possession which availed him so much. Possessing great humanity, he felt deeply for the dreadful sufferings of his men, and in his exertions to alleviate them he was unremitting. Many times have I seen him go about the lines, from one encampment to another, wrapped up in his military cloak, without parade or ostentation, in order that he might personally inspect the condition of the troops, and as far as in his power lay afford them relief, and add to their comforts.

His position, as chief of the army, was one of much difficulty; and his energies were so greatly paralysed by the interference of professing friends, and the false intelligence of his real enemies, that it appears miraculous how he ever brought the forces through. His great perseverance, intrepid spirit, and warlike talent, enabled him to overcome those trials which would have broken down another man. Let those who have calumniated his name be for ever silent, when they reflect on that devotedness of conduct, by which, in the moment of peril, he preserved untarnished the fame of Britain's sons, falling himself nobly for their glory, and by their side, in the hour of victory.

The brigade was formed on the crest of the hill, with uneven ground in front, between which and the enemy's position lay a deep and broken ravine, interspersed with vines and brushwood, and traversed in various directions by numerous enclosures and narrow lanes, inclining towards the head of the precipice.

Midway between the place where the 50th stood and the opposite hill was situated the village of Elvina, consisting of a few poor straggling hovels, with a chapel in the centre, and surrounded with fragments of rock, stone walls, hedges, and close winding passages.

The whole French army, under Marshal Soult, occupied a parallel range to that upon which ours was posted, more elevated and considerably more extensive.

The troops, being stationed in the alignment pointed out, commenced the usual operations of the camp, and were, from right to left, in high spirits at the prospect of giving the French an airing, in return for their marked attention towards us, for the last three weeks, and by way of making some amends for all the trouble we must have caused them. For some days back, it had been perceived that immense bodies were assembling, and the heights upon which they halted were literally darkened by their increasing columns. The continual beating of their drums, (without which their men can never stir), the noisy words of command, and the din of their ammunition waggons, with the rolling of their gun-carriages, rung perpetually in our ears from the moment that we arrived upon the field. The French, on every occasion, make an excessive display, with much of loud and empty sound, and at all times, in action, they put forth such frantic and discordant yells, and raise so much useless clamour, that the report of cannon is often scarcely greater.

The morning of the 16th opened with the usual routine of duty, the same exciting work presented itself, the contending parties with eager attention observing each other's manoeuvres.--The weather was cloudy; but towards noon the sun shone out, and it continued fine during the rest of this eventful day.

An extraordinary stir and commotion was noticed, about 2 P.M. in the enemy's camp, after both armies had dined. From the opposite lines, numerous light troops were seen advancing in the direction of our piquets, which had been previously reinforced, and this movement was followed by a general attack upon the entire chain of outposts.

Our soldiers, deploying into line, occupied their allotted station.--Being the junior corps, the 50th was in the centre of the brigade, flanked by the King's Own, and 42nd Highlanders; in company with such men, the Black Cuffs could not fail, and they were proud, and justly too, of being enrolled with those fine regiments.

Sir John Moore was quickly on the spot, and with the experienced mind of an old and skilful warrior, he gave the necessary orders to the several officers of his army holding command. The staff were then dispersed, and flying in all directions with those orders to the various divisions, the whole of which in a very short space of time were standing to their arms. It was about 3 o'clock when the light troops advanced in multitudes against our line; rapidly descending the hill they opened a brisk discharge from their rifles upon our piquets, that lined the enclosures throughout the wide extent of the ravine. It was very polite of the Frenchmen to allow us time to get our dinners, although it will appear that they had not finished their own repast; however, to make up for this mistake, we helped them to a desert of forced meat balls, which, composed as they were of indigestible materials, formed a considerable portion of this day's bill of fare.--As soon as matters began to wear a serious aspect, the locks and flints were examined, caps tied on, and other preparatory measures taken for the deadly strife.

For the purpose of covering his forward movements, a heavy cannonade was poured down by the enemy from a masked battery on the elevated ridge. By this plunging fire our ranks were much thinned, and the round shot, booming on every side, scattered about the splinters, sand, and stones, that fell in showers upon our heads.--Pending the operations, a general assault was made upon our left, from whence the music of artillery sounded loud and incessant.

Perceiving, by the strong fire, that a French corps was pushing through the hollows, evidently with the view of turning our right flank, Colonel Wynch, of the 4th, threw back some companies of that regiment, forming an obtuse angle with the line; which effectually prevented the enemy from making any further efforts in that quarter. While this was going on, a regiment of Guards was brought up in reserve, and posted at the rear of our brigade.

The piquets being now thrown back, from the weight of fire, our men were ordered to advance to their support. Major Napier, in front of the 50th, gave the word, cheering as he led boldly forward. Passing the enclosure, and clearing all before them in superior style, they entered the village of Elvina, which was instantly carried at the point of the bayonet, and pressing still onwards, under an awful blaze, they made for the summit of the heights. Meanwhile, the light infantry, an inflexible and stubborn band, with Captain Harrison at their head, furiously charged across the broken ground, and bearing away all opposition, took lodgment in the rocks above. The hamlet being at length surrounded, its occupants rushed pell-mell into every hole and corner they could find. A number of these heroes, having ensconced themselves within the chapel, began to amuse themselves by firing from the windows, roof, and belfry, at the soldiers. Observing their murderous design, Captain William Clunes with cool and determined bravery marched his company to attack them, and having, with all due ceremony, introduced his grenadiers to their acquaintance, the powerful fellows would instantly have demolished the chapel, in order to eject the congregation therein assembled, had they not been hindered by their leader, who, with the greatest sang froid imaginable, took his stand by the portal of the edifice, and, grasping an Indian cane of stout dimensions, threatened destruction to the inmates, if they did not discontinue their ball practice and surrender, to a man. Astounded by the Stentor-like tone in which this _notice_ to _quit_ was uttered by the huge Northern, the garrison resolved at all hazards to evacuate the premises, and, accordingly, with a desperate rush, they sallied out amongst the flankers. Many were slain upon the spot, or taken, Clunes and his party collecting a pretty fair specimen of their afternoon's work. If the ludicrous could have been thought of at such a moment, the strange and extraordinary scene was enough to excite the mirthful faculties of a philosopher. The contrast between the tall and stalwart grenadier and the diminutive Frenchmen was truly ridiculous; and the manner in which this gigantic son of Mars turned out the warriors of Napoleon, without once drawing a sword, and while shot was flying as thick as hail, was a sight well remembered by those who were present on that day.[12]

[12] Clunes was many years in the 50th, having been present with them in all their campaigns up to this period. He was one of the finest looking grenadiers in the British army; tall in stature, muscular in frame, with a countenance expressive of the cool and determined soldier. His bravery at Corunna called forth the approbation of the Commander-in-chief, by whom he was immediately promoted to a majority in the 54th. After serving in that regiment for a considerable lapse of time, he sold out, and returned to his native country. He did not long survive, to enjoy the quiet of domestic life. His death was much regretted by the few remaining veterans of the 50th, who had been his companions in the field, and his name stands high in the records of that corps.

Our battalion companies fought like lions, and pouring rapidly through the village upset the kettles and cooking apparatus, which were in full work throughout the streets. The savoury stews, broths and fricassees, were put _hors de combat_, and small was the number of the meagre combatants who returned to claim a portion of the half dressed fare. Having succeeded in forcing every barrier, and cutting our way through the enemy at every point, the main body of the regiment pressed on to the higher ground; "forward, forward to the hill!" was now the cry. Clambering up the steep and craggy ascent, emboldened by the example of their officers, the soldiers were mowed down unmercifully by continuous volleys from the crest of the mountain, almost threatening to annihilate our ranks.

The assailants were not far distant at this time from the brow of the impending rock, which, bristling with bayonets, seemed to frown in defiance upon the enterprise. But, although the dangerous attempt to crown the eminence appeared to resemble a forlorn hope, Major Napier, with determined boldness, resolved to carry, by a coup-de-main, the enemy's strong hold; waving, therefore, his sabre in the air, he loudly called upon his men to follow.--His enthusiastic spirit had urged him on, beyond the foremost of the soldiers, when he fell, severely wounded, and, before we could approach to rescue him, he was borne off speedily to the enemy's lines.[13]

[13] Soult behaved in a noble and disinterested manner towards Major Napier. As soon as it was discovered that his prisoner was wounded, he ordered that he should be conveyed within the lines, and receive the attendance of the most skilful surgeon in the camp. He likewise gave directions, that he should be provided with every comfort that it was possible to obtain. To complete the measure of his liberality and kindness, he allowed the Major, as soon as he was perfectly restored to health, to return to England, on parole, in order that an exchange might be effected with a Field Officer of the French army. This act was of itself enough to stamp the character of the Marshal, and was worthy of a general, than whom one more talented or brave never fought the battles of his country.

About this period, the right centre, forcing through the enclosures and lanes beyond the village, was exposed to a raking fire, and in consequence was most severely handled, several officers and men being killed.--Among the former was the Honorable Major Stanhope, who received a musket ball in the chest, and expired without a struggle. He was a man of dignified appearance, reserved in his deportment, but withal a zealous officer. Having joined the regiment at the outset of this campaign, his career was brief, though splendid. The same round of musketry that caused the death of Stanhope, proved fatal to both the officers of the colours, Ensigns Moore and Stewart; the former survived but to arrive in England, the latter never spoke. They were promising young men, and much regretted by every member of the corps. Among the slain were also Lieutenant John Napper Wilson, of the Light Company.

Poor Moore, my esteemed friend and companion, had all along a presentiment of his fate; and talked of it as an event inevitably to happen in the first battle. This sad foreboding, from which I could not rally him, never for a moment preyed upon his mind, which was always cheerful and contented.[14]

[14] Moore died at Haslar hospital, Gosport, after lingering for several weeks. The ball having penetrated his lungs, there was no possible hope of his recovery. His father was a clergyman in the North of Ireland, who had lost other sons in the service of his country.

Ensign Stewart was a quiet and amiable lad, nephew to Colonel Stewart of the 2nd battalion. His death was instantaneous, the regimental colour, which he carried, immediately fell across his body, and was picked up by Serjeant McKie, who had scarcely delivered his charge to the officer, ordered for that purpose, when he himself received a mortal wound.

Wilson, (who was before wounded at Vimeiro,) was an Irishman, and had been some years in the regiment.

At the moment when these officers fell, we were passing, thickly crowded, through a lane enclosed with loose stone walls, and the fire, to which we were sadly exposed, raked us most unmercifully. The colours, with the officers around them, formed a conspicuous mark, against which, with deadly aim, a fatal shower of bullets was discharged. It was such hot work, that a man would be inclined to give himself a _shake_ or two, after all was over, in order to ascertain whether his head was on his shoulders.

Our ammunition being expended, seventy rounds per man having been already fired, and all our efforts being unavailing against such fearful odds, orders were given for us to retire; and, on being relieved by the Guards, the troops of the 1st Brigade fell back, the shattered remnant of the 50th resuming its place upon the hill, from which it had at the outset advanced.

The remainder of the day and great part of the night was employed in preparations to embark; the huts were, however, occupied, the fires were kept burning, and every thing arranged so as to prevent the French from thinking that we intended to decamp without beat of drum.

Soon after nightfall, and when the clash of arms was no longer heard, an interment of the dead took place, and many a poor fellow, who had a few hours before been full of life and strength, was now deposited in his narrow bed. The remains of Major Stanhope were lowered to the grave by his brother officers and comrades, with their sashes. He had worn this day a suit of new uniform, and a pair of bright silver epaulets, in which, with his military cloak around him, upon the same hour as his lamented chief, he was consigned to an honorable tomb.

While we were engaged in the performance of this melancholy duty, the Honorable Captain Stanhope of the Guards, aid-de-camp to Sir John Moore, rode up, directed by the torch light, to the mournful group. It was the first intimation which he received of his brave relation's fate. Dismounting, and overcome with grief, he took a last farewell, and having obtained his ring, together with a lock of hair, he tore himself hastily away from the heart-rending scene.

It was about 8 o'clock when the troops moved off, in perfect silence and good order. A strong piquet was left to keep the fires alive, and watch the enemy's operations. Preparing for a renewed attack upon our army on the following day, the French camp throughout the night was in a state of tumult and noisy bustle. The outposts were not allowed much rest, being serenaded with the din of hammering up their platforms for the cannon, and sounding the note of preparation for the approaching tug of war. Little did Marshal Soult know that the bird had flown; for while he was busy in the midst of all this clamour, the British army was marching to Corunna, and by daylight was completely embarked. The soldiers left upon the hill, under the command of Captain Clunes, were withdrawn about an hour before the clear light of day, on the morning of the 17th; and taking, not reluctantly, a last farewell of the encampment, proceeded to the point of embarkation. The lowness of the tide not admitting the boats to get near to the shore, the men were compelled to wade above the middle into the water previous to entering them; hence, so far as regarded this portion of the army, Napoleon's insolent and oft repeated threats, of driving the English into the sea, were undoubtedly realized.

Missing their prey, which thus so cunningly slipped from their grasp, the French were mortified in no small degree. Fighting Jack[15], for once outwitted, revenged himself by ordering his bulldogs to the water side, where, being unable to proceed further, he had nothing else to do, but "grin horribly a ghastly smile," and shew his teeth. By way of a coup-de-grace, or parting gift, however, he gave us a royal salvo, which presented to his well-tried antagonists, (who were now on board), some very striking proofs of his affection, in the very tangible shape of twenty-four pounders. But we were now beyond his reach, and he might therefore as well have saved his powder and shot, which, with all their noise, did us little injury, and only excited our laughter.

[15] This was the nickname given to Soult by the soldiers.

The piquets were embarked in the Mary, which was at anchor so near the beach, that for want of something better to do in the way of a little morning sport, the Marshal made use of our old tub of a transport as a target, and practised so freely on it, with his heavy missives, that it was quite time for it to sheer off. Observing this uncivil conduct, the sea-captain, pale and terrified, with all the horror of a panic-struck man, cried out, "I'll lose my ship! I'm ruined!" and running frantic to the bows, he seized upon an axe, and cut the cable. His vessel being thus allowed to swing round, she became unmanageable, and as it was blowing a gale of wind at the time, the unfortunate Mary was driven upon the rocks. The passengers and crew were saved. The troops, who thus narrowly escaped, were received by the Thomas brig, and the 50th regiment was taken on board the Ville de Paris of 110 guns.

In the hurry of departing from the Mary, no one thought of going below deck for any of his baggage; to escape without delay from the battered vessel was the only object of our ambition; nor, indeed, could a visit to the cabin be safely attempted. Some, who were on deck with their bald pates uncovered, took flight without their beavers; thankful, as the round shots flew across the ship, to decamp with a whole skin. While we were scrambling into the boats, a ponderous box of dollars, the property of Captain Gaff, of the 76th, slipped from a sailor's hands; and as it splashed into the water, poor Gaff stood petrified with horror, and when it vanished from sight, he looked as if he would have plunged after it, to rescue the precious treasure.

On the morning of the 18th of January the fleet got under way; and, after a favourable though boisterous passage, it arrived in England on the 23rd. We were disembarked at Haslar, and marched from thence to Gosport, where we remained till the 9th of February, when we proceeded on our journey to Brabone Lees, in Kent.

Chapter VII.

On the 18th of February 1809, after a long and rather harassing march, the 1st Battalion of the 50th arrived at Braborne Lees in Kent, where the 2nd had been stationed for some time. Both having assembled and reunited, old friends and companions in arms meeting once more, a general scene of festivity took place; the young hands entertaining their more fortunate brethren, lately returned from the field of honour, joyous living and good cheer was the order of the day, and it might be added that conviviality was the regulation for the night.

The 68th and 85th Light Infantry being in the same barracks contributed in no small extent to those revelries, and each in succession most liberally displaying the generous hospitalities of the table, this round of dissipation was continued until a route was announced to us, for both battalions of the 50th to march forthwith; the 1st for Ramsgate, and the 2nd for the town of Ashford, four miles distant. Having obtained my Lieutenancy previous to our return, and being consequently effective in the 2nd, I joined and marched with them.

Before proceeding further I must say a word or two about those friends we left behind.--The 85th, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Cuyler, was a very smart regiment; and the officers a gay set of light bobs, full of life and glee. I never saw a finer party of young men; longing for military enterprise, they cared not in what quarter of the world it might be offered. To see those happy fellows seated round their mess table, mingled with the 50th, their delighted guests, it would have been impossible to imagine that they were so soon to be disunited; however so it was, and great was the pity that such was to be their lot; they were in a short time after separated, and dispersed in various directions, being removed to other regiments and other destinations. More than a quarter of a century has since elapsed, in the course of which period I have met with a few of them, others have left the stage of life or retired from the service, while but small indeed is the remnant of that gallant band, who once belonged to a Regiment which has distinguished itself in many a battle field, and than which there is not a better in the British army.

The 68th was commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Johnston. The officers, more steady, perhaps, from being more experienced, than their brother flankers, were a remarkably pleasant set of men, many of whom bore the appearance of having seen some hard service.

We found Ashford a very dull and uninteresting place, the good people of which, not being particularly fond of military gentlemen, left us very much to ourselves, to cogitate as we might in our country quarters. We made this out pretty well, however, with our regimental society; and, having also some female campaigners, we carried on the war happily enough, notwithstanding the churlish deportment of our civilized neighbours. The Ashfordians, though they looked shy upon us as a body, could, nevertheless, condescend to notice such of our young men as boasted a drop of noble blood, or were graced by the possession of some ancient name. A well-stocked purse was, moreover, a good introduction to their mahogany; and the fortunate hero, whose shoulders gloried in a _pair_ of epaulets, or upon whose heels the spurs might dangle, had a most excellent chance of finding favour in their aristocratic sight. The humble subs, contented with their barrack-room parties, were perhaps gainers by the arrangement; for, although they could not boast of so much tinsel or cold display, there was among them much more social manners and generous liberality, while good fellowship and unaffected mirth presided at their less splendid though far more cheerful board. In the barracks of Ashford, our companions militant were the 91st Highlanders, and the Warwickshire Militia, both of which were in capital order for any duty; the latter in particular, commanded by Colonel S.E. Steward, was a noble body of men, exemplary alike in appearance and discipline. So that any regiment of the line might consider it an honour to receive volunteers from such a corps. The 91st, under Colonel Douglas, has always upheld the distinguished character for which these Northern warriors have been famed.

In the early part of the succeeding month of May, the second battalion received their route for Reading Street, in Kent, where we got into quarters after a few days hard marching. The temporary barracks which we occupied were situated in the centre of a highly improved country, about three miles from the small town of Tenterden. The weather being delightful at this pleasant season, and our duty not being extremely severe, the time passed in a manner quite in unison with our wishes, and without any greater degree of suffering than what occasionally arose from the hardship incident to a night campaign, upon a Bacchanalian expedition. As the invitations to the feast were but "few and far between," the dangers to be encountered on this service were by no means numerous or important. Deprived by our retired circumstances of any extensive intercourse with the "gay and lively throng," we were getting somewhat rusticated, and might in time have become very quiet and harmless animals, had we been permitted so to remain. But our retirement was much too easy a mode of existence for gentlemen of the sword, and all our dreams of luxury and peace were soon disturbed, by a sudden order from the higher powers, for several of our officers and non-commissioned officers to proceed with the utmost rapidity to the Isle of Wight, in order to join a battalion of detachments, which was then forming at Albany Barracks, and which was destined to compose a portion of the expedition under the Earl of Chatham. Being included in the number allotted for this service, I accompanied the following officers, who commenced their march for Portsmouth, on Sunday the 25th of June, 1809: Captain Henry Montgomery, Captain Edward Atkins, Lieutenant William Turner, Lieutenant Richard Jones, and Lieutenant James Thomas.

With high glee, and an elastic tone of spirits, we entered upon our journey, equipped and fitted out in a most singular manner, for, such was the speed demanded on this pressing occasion, that every kind of conveyance, inclusive of coach, caravan, gig, and fish cart, was put in requisition for the more hasty removal of our martial band. Although there was something bordering on the ludicrous in the mode of our turn out, we cut, nevertheless, a most formidable and imposing figure.

With scarcely any breathing time, we pursued our hurried course, the wonder-struck natives of the towns and hamlets through which we passed staring and gazing upon us, with open mouths, while with joyous looks we dashed along, as though his satanic majesty himself was at our heels. The officers were in and outside of coaches, as the case might be, while the serjeants, corporals and drummers, mounted on vehicles of more humble pretensions, exhibited their pikes, fusils, and other weapons, stuck out of windows, doors and various similar openings. This strange and whimsical cavalcade was not unlike a moveable battering train, or a troop of warriors in ancient times, and bore no manner of resemblance to a party of modern heroes travelling genteelly, though not leisurely, on the King's highway.

On arriving at Newport, in the Isle of Wight, we soon became acquainted with the several officers who were summoned on the same duty, and who belonged to different regiments remaining in England. The battalion of embodied detachments, which was composed of men from the dépôts of those corps on foreign service, amounted to at least a thousand bayonets, and when completed for the field was a most effective and powerful body of soldiers.--With regard to costume, it was rather motley in appearance, from the many coloured facings displayed throughout the line; and the officers wearing the plain round hat, with a small feather stuck on one side like a marine, served to render still more apparent the diversity of style and fashion exhibited in our variegated ranks.

Lieutenant Colonel the Honorable Basil Cochrane, our commandant, was a bold determined officer, and strict disciplinarian. He belonged to the 36th, in which he afterwards served in the Peninsular war, and having a natural genius for a military life, he, like his brother of nautical celebrity, was conspicuous on many occasions, during that hard-fought contest.

The arrangements being concluded, our medley battalion marched to West Cowes, where it embarked, on the 15th of July, on board of the Weymouth, armed en flute, Captain Trounce, and on the following day we sailed to Spithead, where, the troops being much crowded, some of them were removed to the Clarence Transport[16]. We steered for the Downs under convoy, on the 25th of the same month. On the 31st, the whole fleet set sail with a fair wind, and beautifully clear weather, standing away to the Northward, in the direction of the Dutch coast.[17]

[16] The night before we sailed from Cowes, a melancholy event took place; Lieutenant Orr, of the 79th regiment, a fine spirited young man, was drowned by some accident along side the ship, as she lay at anchor.

[17] _The undermentioned officers served with the battalion of embodied detachments on the expedition to Walcheren._

Commanding Lieut. Col. the Hon. Basil Co