He had discovered, on reaching and halting in this village, the number of men that had strayed from the main body, and immediately ordering the torches I have mentioned to be prepared, he collected together a party of Spanish peasants, and obliged them to go out into the open country, and seek for his men, as I have said; by which means he saved (on that night) many from death.
To return to my own adventures on this night. When Brooks and myself reached the village I have mentioned, we found it filled with soldiers, standing and lying, huddled together like cattle in a fair. A most extraordinary sight it appeared, as the torches of the peasants flashed upon the way-worn and gaunt figures of our army. The rain was coming down, too, on thisnight, I remember; and soon after I reached our corps, I fell helplessly to the ground in a miserable plight. Brooks was himself greatly exhausted, but he behaved nobly, and remained beside me, trying to persuade some of our men to assist him in lifting me up, and gaining shelter in one of the houses at hand. "May I be —!" I heard him say, "if I leave Harris to be butchered in the streets by the cowardly Spaniards the moment our division leaves the town." At length Brooks succeeded in getting a man to help him, and together they supported me into the passage of a house, where I lay upon the floor for some time. After awhile, by the help of some wine they procured, I rallied and sat up, till eventually I got once more upon my legs, and, arm in arm, we proceeded again into the streets, and joined our corps. Poor Brooks certainly saved my life that night. He was one of the many good fellows whom I haveseen out, and I often think of him with feelings of gratitude as I sit at my work in Richmond Street, Soho.
When the division got the order to proceed again, we were still linked arm in arm, and thus we proceeded; sometimes, when the day appeared, stopping for a short time and resting ourselves, and then hurrying on again.
I remember Sir Dudley Hill passing me on a mule this day. He wore a Spanish straw-hat, and had his cloak on. He looked back when he had passed, and addressed me. "Harris," said he, "I see you cannot keep up." He appeared sorry for me, for he knew me well. "You must do your best," he said, "my man, and keep with us, or you will fall into the hands of the enemy." As the day wore on, I grew weaker and weaker; and at last, spite of all my efforts, I saw the main body leave me hopelessly in the lurch. Brooks himselfwas getting weaker too; he saw it was of little use to urge me on, and at length, assenting to my repeated request to be left behind, he hurried on as well as he was able without a word of farewell. I now soon sank down in the road and lay beside another man who had also fallen, and was apparently dead, and whom I recognised as one of our sergeants, named Taylor, belonging to the Honourable Captain Pakenham's (now General Sir Hercules Pakenham) company.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE RETREAT TO CORUNNA.
Fate of the stragglers—A Spanish welcome—Scenes upon the line of march—The English ships in sight—The embarkation and arrival of the troops in England.
Fate of the stragglers—A Spanish welcome—Scenes upon the line of march—The English ships in sight—The embarkation and arrival of the troops in England.
Whilst we lay exhausted in the road, the rear guard, which was now endeavouring to drive on the stragglers, approached, and a sergeant of the Rifles came up, and stopped to look at us. He addressed himself to me, and ordered me to rise; but I told him it was useless for him to trouble himself about me, as I was unable to move a step further. Whilst he was urging meto endeavour to rise up, the officer in command of the rear guard also stepped up. The name of this officer was Lieutenant Cox; he was a brave and good man, and observing that the sergeant was rough in his language and manner towards me, he silenced him, and bade the guard proceed, and leave me. "Let him die quietly, Hicks," he said to the sergeant. "I know him well; he's not the man to lie here if he could get on.—I am sorry, Harris," he said, "to see you reduced to this, for I fear there is no help to be had now." He then moved on after his men, and left me to my fate.
After lying still for awhile, I felt somewhat restored, and sat up to look about me. The sight was by no means cheering. On the road behind me I saw men, women, mules, and horses, lying at intervals, both dead and dying; whilst far away in front I could just discern the enfeebled army crawling out of sight, the women[6]huddled together in its rear, trying their best to get forward amongst those of the sick soldiery, who were now unable to keep up with the main body. After awhile, I found that my companion, the sergeant, who lay beside me, had also recovered a little, and I tried to cheer him up. I told him that opposite to where we were lying there was a lane, down which we might possibly find some place of shelter, if we could muster strength to explore it. The sergeant consented to make the effort, but after two or three attempts to rise, gave it up. I myself was more fortunate: with the aid of my rifle I got upon my legs, and seeing death in my companion's face, I resolved to try and save myself, since it was quite evident to me that I could render him no assistance.
After hobbling some distance down the lane, to my great joy I espied a small hut or cabin, with a little garden in its front; I therefore opened the small door of the hovel, and was about to enter, when I considered that most likely I should be immediately knocked on the head by the inmates if I did so. The rain, I remember, was coming down in torrents at this time, and, reflecting that to remain outside was but to die, I resolved at all events to try my luck within. I had not much strength left; but I resolved to sell myself as dearly as I could. I therefore brought up my rifle, and stepped across the threshold. As soon as I had done so, I observed an old woman seated beside a small fire upon the hearth. She turned her head as I entered, and immediately upon seeing a strange soldier, she arose, and filled the hovel with her screams. As I drew back within the doorway, an elderly man, followed by two, whowere apparently his sons, rushed from a room in the interior. They immediately approached me; but I brought up my rifle again, and cocked it, bidding them keep their distance.
After I had thus brought them to a parley, I got together what little Spanish I was master of, and begged for shelter for the night and a morsel of food, at the same time lifting my feet and displaying them a mass of bleeding sores. It was not, however, till they had held a tolerably long conversation among themselves that they consented to afford me shelter; and then only upon the condition that I left by daylight on the following morning. I accepted the conditions with joy. Had they refused me, I should indeed not have been here to tell the tale. Knowing the treachery of the Spanish character, I however refused to relinquish possession of my rifle, and my right hand was ready in an instant to unsheath my bayonet, as they sat and stared at me whilst I devoured the food they offered.
All they gave me was some coarse black bread, and a pitcher of sour wine. It was, however, acceptable to a half-famished man; and I felt greatly revived by it. Whilst I supped, the old hag, who sat close beside the hearth, stirred up the embers, that they might have a better view of their guest, and the party meanwhile overwhelmed me with questions, which I could neither comprehend nor had strength to answer. I soon made signs to them that I was unable to maintain the conversation, and begged of them, as well as I could, to shew me some place where I might lay my wearied limbs till dawn.
Notwithstanding the weariness which pervaded my whole body, I was unable for some time to sleep except by fitful snatches, such was the fear I entertained of havingmy throat cut by the savage-looking wretches still seated before the fire. Besides which, the place they had permitted me to crawl into was more like an oven than anything else, and being merely a sort of berth scooped out of the wall, was so filled with fleas and other vermin, that I was stung and tormented most miserably all night long.
Bad as they had been, however, I felt somewhat restored by my lodging and supper, and with the dawn I crawled out of my lair, left the hut, retraced my steps along the lane, and once more emerged upon the high-road, where I found my companion, the sergeant, dead, and lying where I had left him the night before.
I now made the best of my way along the road in the direction in which I had last seen our army retreating the night before. A solitary individual, I seemed left behind amongst those who had perished.It was still raining, I remember, on this morning, and the very dead looked comfortless in their last sleep, as I passed them occasionally lying on the line of march.
It had pleased Heaven to give me an iron constitution, or I must have failed, I think, on this day, for the solitary journey, and the miserable spectacles I beheld, rather damped my spirits.
After progressing some miles, I came up with a cluster of poor devils who were still alive, but apparently, both men and women, unable to proceed. They were sitting huddled together in the road, their heads drooping forward, and apparently patiently awaiting their end.
Soon after passing these unfortunates, I overtook a party who were being urged forward under charge of an officer of the 42nd Highlanders. He was pushing them along pretty much as a drover would keep together a tired flock of sheep. They presented a curious example of a retreating force. Many of them had thrown away their weapons, and were linked together arm-in-arm, in order to support each other, like a party of drunkards. They were, I saw, composed of various regiments; many were bare-headed, and without shoes; and some with their heads tied up in old rags and fragments of handkerchiefs.
I marched in company with this party for some time, but as I felt after my night's lodging and refreshment in better condition I ventured to push forwards, in the hope of rejoining the main body, and which I once more came up with in the street of a village.
On falling in with the Rifles, I again found Brooks, who was surprised at seeing me still alive; and we both entered a house, and begged for something to drink. I remember that I had a shirt upon my back at this time, which I had purchased of adrummer of the Ninth regiment before the commencement of the retreat. It was the only good one I had; I stripped, with the assistance of Brooks, and took it off, and exchanged it with a Spanish woman for a loaf of bread, which Brooks, myself, and two other men, shared amongst us.
I remember to have again remarked Craufurd at this period of the retreat. He was no whit altered in his desire to keep the force together, I thought; but still active and vigilant as ever, he seemed to keep his eye upon those who were now most likely to hold out. I myself marched during many hours close beside him this day. He looked stern and pale; but the very picture of a warrior. I shall never forget Craufurd if I live to a hundred years, I think. He was in everything a soldier.
Slowly and dejectedly crawled our army along. Their spirit of endurance was nowconsiderably worn out, and judging from my own sensations, I felt confident that if the sea was much further from us, we must be content to come to a halt at last without gaining it. I felt something like the approach of death as I proceeded—a sort of horror, mixed up with my sense of illness—a reeling I have never experienced before or since. Still I held on; but with all my efforts, the main body again left me behind. Had the enemy's cavalry come up at this time I think they would have had little else to do but ride us down without striking a blow.
It is, however, indeed astonishing how man clings to life. I am certain that had I lain down at this period, I should have found my last billet on the spot I sank upon. Suddenly I heard a shout in front, which was prolonged in a sort of hubbub. Even the stragglers whom I saw dotting the road in front of me seemed to havecaught at something like hope; and as the poor fellows now reached the top of a hill we were ascending, I heard an occasional exclamation of joy—the first note of the sort I had heard for many days. When I reached the top of the hill the thing spoke for itself. There, far away in our front, the English shipping lay in sight.[7]
Its view had indeed acted like a restorative to our force, and the men, at the prospect of a termination to the march, had plucked up spirit for a last effort. Fellows who, like myself, seemed to have hardly strength in their legs to creep up the ascent, seemed now to have picked up a fresh pair to get down with. Such is hope to us poor mortals!
There was, I recollect, a man of the name of Bell, of the Rifles, who had been during this day holding a sort of creeping racewith me,—we had passed and repassed each other, as our strength served. Bell was rather a discontented fellow at the best of times; but during this retreat he had given full scope to his ill-temper, cursing the hour he was born, and wishing his mother had strangled him when he came into the world, in order to have saved him from his present toil. He had not now spoken for some time, and the sight of the English shipping had apparently a very beneficial effect upon him. He burst into tears as he stood and looked at it.
"Harris," he said, "if it pleases God to let me reach those ships, I swear never to utter a bad or discontented word again."
As we proceeded down the hill we now met with the first symptoms of good feeling from the inhabitants, it was our fortune to experience during our retreat. A number of old women stood on either side the road,and occasionally handed us fragments of bread as we passed them. It was on this day, and whilst I looked anxiously upon the English shipping in the distance, that I first began to find my eyesight failing, and it appeared to me that I was fast growing blind. The thought was alarming; and I made desperate efforts to get on. Bell, however, won the race this time. He was a very athletic and strong-built fellow, and left me far behind, so that I believe at that time I was the very last of the retreating force that reached the beach, though doubtless many stragglers came dropping up after the ships had sailed, and were left behind.
As it was, when I did manage to gain the sea-shore, it was only by the aid of my rifle that I could stand, and my eyes were now so dim and heavy that with difficulty I made out a boat which seemed the last that had put off.
Fearful of being left half blind in the lurch, I took off my cap, and placed it on the muzzle of my rifle as a signal, for I was totally unable to call out. Luckily, Lieutenant Cox, who was aboard the boat, saw me, and ordered the men to return, and, making one more effort, I walked into the water, and a sailor stretching his body over the gunwale, seized me as if I had been an infant, and hauled me on board. His words were characteristic of the English sailor, I thought.
"Hollo there, you lazy lubber!" he said, as he grasped hold of me, "who the h-ll do you think is to stay humbugging all day for such a fellow as you?"
The boat, I found, was crowded with our exhausted men, who lay helplessly at the bottom, the heavy sea every moment drenching them to the skin. As soon as we reached the vessel's side, the sailors immediately aided us to get on board, which in our exhausted state was not a very easy matter, as they were obliged to place ropes in our hands, and heave us up by setting their shoulders under us, and hoisting away as if they had been pushing bales of goods on board.
"Heave away!" cried one of the boat's crew, as I clung to a rope, quite unable to pull myself up, "heave away, you lubber!"
The tar placed his shoulder beneath me as he spoke, and hoisted me up against the ship's side; I lost my grasp of the rope and should have fallen into the sea, had it not been for two of the crew. These men grasped me as I was falling, and drew me into the port-hole like a bundle of foul clothes, tearing away my belt and bayonet in the effort, which fell into the sea.
It was not very many minutes after I was on board, for I lay where the sailors hadfirst placed me after dragging me through the port-hole, ere I was sound asleep. I slept long and heavily, and it was only the terrible noise and bustle on board consequent upon a gale having sprung up, that at length awoke me. The wind increased as the night came on, and soon we had to experience all the horrors of a storm at sea. The pumps were set to work; the sails were torn to shreds; the coppers were overset; and we appeared in a fair way, I thought, of going to the bottom. Meanwhile, the pumps were kept at work night and day incessantly till they were choked; and the gale growing worse and worse, all the soldiery were ordered below, and the hatches closed; soon after which the vessel turned over on one side, and lay a helpless log upon the water. In this situation an officer was placed over us, with his sword drawn in one hand, and a lantern in the other, in order to keep us on the side which was upper-most, so as to give the vessel a chance of righting herself in the roaring tide. The officer's task was not an easy one, as the heaving waves frequently sent us sprawling from the part we clung to, over to the lower-most part of the hold, where he stood, and he was obliged every minute to drive us back.
We remained in this painful situation for, I should think, five or six hours, expecting every instant to be our last, when, to our great joy, the sea suddenly grew calm, the wind abated, the vessel righted herself, and we were once more released from our prison, having tasted nothing in the shape of food for at least forty-eight hours. Soon after this we arrived in sight of Spithead, where we saw nine of our convoy, laden with troops, which had been driven on shore in the gale. After remaining off Spithead for about five or six days, one fine morning we received orders to disembark, and our poor bare feet once more touched English ground.The inhabitants flocked down to the beach to see us as we did so, and they must have been a good deal surprised at the spectacle we presented. Our beards were long and ragged; almost all were without shoes and stockings; many had their clothes and accoutrements in fragments, with their heads swathed in old rags, and our weapons were covered with rust; whilst not a few had now, from toil and fatigue, become quite blind.
Let not the reader, however, think, that even now we were to be despised as soldiers. Long marches, inclement weather, and want of food, had done their work upon us; but we were perhaps better than we appeared, as the sequel shewed. Under the gallant Craufurd we had made some tremendous marches, and even galled our enemies severely, making good our retreat by the way of Vigo. But our comrades in adversity, and who had retired by the other road to Corunna, under General Moore,turned to bay there, and shewed the enemy that the English soldier is not to be beaten even under the most adverse circumstances.
The field of death and slaughter, the march, the bivouac, and the retreat, are no bad places in which to judge of men. I have had some opportunities of judging them in all these situations, and I should say, that the British are amongst the most splendid soldiers in the world. Give them fair play, and they are unconquerable. For my own part, I can only say, that I enjoyed life more whilst on active service, than I have ever done since; and as I sit at work in my shop in Richmond Street, Soho, I look back upon that portion of my time spent in the fields of the Peninsula as the only part worthy of remembrance. It is at such times that scenes long passed come back upon my mind as if they had taken place but yesterday. I remember even the veryappearance of some of the regiments engaged; and comrades, long mouldered to dust, I see again performing the acts of heroes.
FOOTNOTES:[6]Some of these poor wretches cut a ludicrous figure, having the men's great-coats buttoned over their heads, whilst their clothing being extremely ragged and scanty, their naked legs were very conspicuous. They looked a tribe of travelling beggars.[7]Our division, under Craufurd, in this retreat, as I have before mentioned, made for Vigo.
[6]Some of these poor wretches cut a ludicrous figure, having the men's great-coats buttoned over their heads, whilst their clothing being extremely ragged and scanty, their naked legs were very conspicuous. They looked a tribe of travelling beggars.
[6]Some of these poor wretches cut a ludicrous figure, having the men's great-coats buttoned over their heads, whilst their clothing being extremely ragged and scanty, their naked legs were very conspicuous. They looked a tribe of travelling beggars.
[7]Our division, under Craufurd, in this retreat, as I have before mentioned, made for Vigo.
[7]Our division, under Craufurd, in this retreat, as I have before mentioned, made for Vigo.
CHAPTER XV.
THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION.
Filling up the ranks—Going out recruiting—Bagging a blackbird—Coaxing the militia, and hoaxing them—A demon runner—Winning a commission.
Filling up the ranks—Going out recruiting—Bagging a blackbird—Coaxing the militia, and hoaxing them—A demon runner—Winning a commission.
After the disastrous retreat to Corunna, the Rifles were reduced to a sickly skeleton, if I may so term it. Out of perhaps nine hundred of as active and fine fellows as ever held a weapon in the field of an enemy's country, we paraded some three hundred weak and crest-fallen invalids.
I myself stood the third man in my own company, which was reduced from near a hundred men, tobut three. Indeed, I thinkwe had scarce a company on parade stronger than ten or twelve men, at the first parade. After a few parades, however, our companies gradually were augmented (by those of the sick who recovered), but many of those who did not sink in hospital, were never more of much service as soldiers.
The captain of my company was sick, and Lieutenant Hill commanded the three men who answered for No. 4 on this occasion.
I remember he smiled when he looked at me. "Harris," he said, "you look the best man here, this morning. You seem to have got over this business well."
"Yes, Sir," I said, "thank God I feel pretty stout again now, which is more than many can say."
Both battalions of the Rifles had been in that retreat. The first battalion lay at Colchester at this time. Ours (the second) was quartered at Hythe. Colonel Beckwithcommanded the first, and Colonel Wade the second. I remember the 43rd and 52nd Regiments paraded with our battalion on this occasion at Hythe, and both having been with us on the Corunna retreat, cut as poor a figure as we ourselves did.
After awhile, some of the strongest and smartest of our men were picked out to go on the recruiting service, and gather men from the militia regiments to fill up our ranks. I myself started off with Lieutenant Pratt, Sergeant-Major Adams, and William Brotherwood, the latter of whom was afterwards killed at Vittoria by a cannon-ball, which at the same moment ended Patrick Mahon and Lieutenant Hopwood.[8]
I was a shoemaker in the corps, and had twenty pounds in my pocket which I had saved up. With this money I hired a gig, and the Sergeant-Major and myself cut a very smart figure. The only difficulty was, that neither of us knew how to drive very well, consequently we overturned the gig on the first day, before we got half way on our journey, and the shafts being broken we were obliged to leave it behind us in a small village, midway between Hythe and Rye, and take to our legs, as was more soldier-like and seemly. We reached Rye the same night, and I recollect that I succeeded in getting the first recruit there, a strong, able-bodied chimney-sweep, named John Lee. This fellow (whose appearance I was struck with as he sat in the taproom of the "Red Lion" on that night, together with a little boy as black and sooty as himself) offered to enlist the moment I entered the room, and I took him at his word, andimmediately called for the Sergeant-Major for approval.
"There's nothing against my being a soldier," said the sweep, "but my black face; I'm strong, active, and healthy, and able to lick the best man in this room."
"Hang your black face," said the Sergeant-Major; "the Rifles can't be too dark: you're a strong rascal, and if you mean it, we'll take you to the doctor to-morrow and make a Giniril of you the next day." So we had the sweep that night into a large tub of water, scoured him outside, and filled him with punch inside, and made a Rifleman of him.
The Sergeant-Major, however, on this night, suspected from his countenance, what afterwards turned out to be the case, that Lee was rather a slippery fellow, and might repent. So, after filling him drunk, he said to me—"Harris,youhave caught this bird, andyoumust keep him fast. You mustboth sleep to-night handcuffed together in the same bed, or he will escape us;" which I actually did, and the next morning retraced my steps with him to Hythe, to be passed by the doctor of our regiment.
After rejoining Sergeant-Major Adams at Rye, we started off for Hastings in Sussex, and on our way we heard of the East Kent Militia at Lydd; so we stopped there about an hour to display ourselves before them, and try if we could coax a few of them into the Rifles. We strutted up and down before their ranks arm-in-arm, and made no small sensation amongst them. When on the recruiting service in those days, men were accustomed to make as gallant a show as they could, and accordingly we had both smartened ourselves up a trifle. The Sergeant-Major was quite a beau, in his way; he had a sling belt to his sword like a field-officer, a tremendous green feather in his cap, a flaring sash, his whistle andpowder-flask displayed, an officer's pelisse over one shoulder, and a double allowance of ribbons in his cap; whilst I myself was also as smart as I dared appear, with my rifle slung at my shoulder.
In this guise we made as much of ourselves as if we had both been Generals, and, as I said, created quite a sensation, the militia-men cheering us as we passed up and down, till they were called to order by the officers.
The permission to volunteer was not then given to the East Kent, although it came out a few days afterwards, and we persuaded many men, during the hour we figured before them, that the Rifles were the only boys fit forthemto join.
After looking up the East Kent, we reached Hastings that same night, where we found that the volunteering of the Leicester Militia (who were quartered there) had commenced, and that one hundred andtwenty-five men and two officers had given their names to the 7th Fusileers, and these, Adams and I determined to make change their minds in our favour if we could.
The appearance of our Rifle uniform, and a little of Sergeant Adams's[9]blarney, so took the fancies of the volunteers, that we got every one of them for the Rifle corps, and both officers[10]into the bargain. Weworked hard in this business. I may say that for three days and nights we kept up the dance and the drunken riot. Every volunteer got ten guineas bounty, which, except the two kept back for necessaries, they spent in every sort of excess, till all was gone. Then came the reaction. The drooping spirits, the grief at parting with old comrades, sweethearts, and wives, for the uncertain fate of war. And then came on the jeers of the old soldier; the laughter of Adams and myself, and comrades, and our attempts to give a fillip to their spirits as we marched them off from the friends they were never to look upon again; and as we termed it, "shove them on to glory"—a glory they were not long in achieving, as out of the hundred and fifty of the Leicestershire, which we enlisted in Hastings, scarce one man, I should say, who served, but could have shewn at the year's end some token of the fields he had fought in; very many founda grave, and some returned to Hythe with the loss of their limbs.
I remember the story of many of these men's lives; that of one in particular, named Demon, whom I myself enlisted from the Leicester Militia, is not a little curious. Demon was a smart and very active man, and serving as corporal in the light company of the Leicestershire when I persuaded him to join our corps, where he was immediately made a sergeant in the 3rd battalion, then just forming; and from which he eventually rose to be a commissioned officer in one of our line regiments, but whose number I cannot now remember. The cause which led to Demon's merits being first noticed was not a little curious, being neither more nor less than a race.
It happened that at Shoreham Cliff, (soon after he joined) a race was got up amongst some Kentish men, who were noted for their swiftness, and one of them, who had beatenhis companions, challenged any soldier in the Rifles to run against him for two hundred pounds. The sum was large, and the runner was of so much celebrity, that although we had some active young fellows amongst us, no one seemed inclined to take the chance, either officers or men, till at length Demon stepped forth and said he would run against this Kentish boaster, or any man on the face of the earth, and fight him afterwards into the bargain, if any one could be found to make up the money. Upon this, an officer subscribed the money, and the race was arranged.
The affair made quite a sensation, and the inhabitants of the different villages for miles around flocked to see the sport; besides which the men from different regiments in the neighbourhood, infantry, cavalry, and artillery, also were much interested, and managed to be present, which caused the scene to be a very gay one. In short, therace commenced, and the odds were much against the soldier at starting, as he was a much less man than the other, and did not at all look like the winner. He however kept well up with his antagonist, and the affair seemed likely to end in a dead heat, which would undoubtedly have been the case, but Demon, when close upon the winning-post, gave one tremendous spring forward, and won it by his body's length.
This race, in short, led on to notice and promotion. General Mackenzie was in command of the garrison at Hythe. He was present, and was highly delighted at the Rifleman beating the bumpkin, and saw that the winner was the very cut of a soldier, and in short that Demon was a very smart fellow, so that, eventually, the news of the race reached the first battalion then fighting in Spain. Sir Andrew Barnard, as far as I recollect from hearsay, at the time, was then in command of the Rifles in Spain;and, as I now remember the story, either he or some other officer of rank, upon being told of the circumstance, remarked that, as Demon was such a smart runner in England, there was very good ground for a Rifleman to use his legs in Spain. He was accordingly ordered out with the next draft to that country, where he so much distinguished himself that he obtained his commission, as already mentioned.
I could give many more anecdotes connected with the recruiting at this time for the three battalions of Rifles, but the above will suffice; and soon after the incident I have just narrated (our companies being full of young and active men), we started off with the expedition, then just formed, for Walcheren. I could not help feeling, when we paraded, that I stood enranked for this first expedition comparatively amongst strangers, since in the company I belonged to, not a single man, except James Brooks,whom I have before named, then paraded with me who had been a fellow comrade in the fields of Portugal and Spain. I felt also the loss of my old Captain (Leech), whom I much loved and respected, and who left the second battalion at that time to be promoted in the first. When I heard of this change, I stepped from the ranks and offered to exchange into the first, but Lieutenant Hill, who was present, hinted to Captain Hart (my new commanding officer) not to let me go, as, if he did, he would perhaps repent it. I will not say here what the Lieutenant then said of me, but he persuaded Captain Hart to keep me, as my character had been so good in the former campaign; and accordingly I remained in the second battalion, and started on the Walcheren expedition.
From Hythe to Deal was one day's march; and I remember looking along the road at the good appearance the different regimentsmade as we marched along. It was as fine an expedition as ever I looked at, and the army seemed to stretch, as I regarded them, the whole distance before us to Dover.
FOOTNOTES:[8]The manner in which these three soldiers met with their death is extraordinary. As they were creeping from their cover to try and shoot one of the French generals, who was much exposed, the enemy pointed a gun at them, and succeeded in sweeping down all three, as they crawled along.[9]The history of Sergeant-Major Adams is somewhat singular. I was his great friend at this time, and he confided some part of it to me. He had been a croppy, (a rebel) and had fought at Vinegar Hill. When the rebels were defeated he escaped, and lived some time in the wilds of Connemara. He afterwards thought it best to enlist in the Donegal Militia, and then volunteered to the Rifles. Here he soon rose (whilst in Spain) to the rank of Sergeant. During the retreat to Corunna, Sergeant-Major Crosby failed, and Craufurd promoted Adams in his place. At St. Sebastian he was noticed by General Graham, for his bravery with the forlorn hope, a commission was given him, and he afterwards joined a regiment in Gibraltar, where he was made Adjutant. He then went to America, where he served with credit till he died. I believe I was the only man in the regiment who knew of his having been a rebel, and I kept the secret faithfully till his death.[10]The names of these two officers were Chapman and Freere, and I believe they are living now.
[8]The manner in which these three soldiers met with their death is extraordinary. As they were creeping from their cover to try and shoot one of the French generals, who was much exposed, the enemy pointed a gun at them, and succeeded in sweeping down all three, as they crawled along.
[8]The manner in which these three soldiers met with their death is extraordinary. As they were creeping from their cover to try and shoot one of the French generals, who was much exposed, the enemy pointed a gun at them, and succeeded in sweeping down all three, as they crawled along.
[9]The history of Sergeant-Major Adams is somewhat singular. I was his great friend at this time, and he confided some part of it to me. He had been a croppy, (a rebel) and had fought at Vinegar Hill. When the rebels were defeated he escaped, and lived some time in the wilds of Connemara. He afterwards thought it best to enlist in the Donegal Militia, and then volunteered to the Rifles. Here he soon rose (whilst in Spain) to the rank of Sergeant. During the retreat to Corunna, Sergeant-Major Crosby failed, and Craufurd promoted Adams in his place. At St. Sebastian he was noticed by General Graham, for his bravery with the forlorn hope, a commission was given him, and he afterwards joined a regiment in Gibraltar, where he was made Adjutant. He then went to America, where he served with credit till he died. I believe I was the only man in the regiment who knew of his having been a rebel, and I kept the secret faithfully till his death.
[9]The history of Sergeant-Major Adams is somewhat singular. I was his great friend at this time, and he confided some part of it to me. He had been a croppy, (a rebel) and had fought at Vinegar Hill. When the rebels were defeated he escaped, and lived some time in the wilds of Connemara. He afterwards thought it best to enlist in the Donegal Militia, and then volunteered to the Rifles. Here he soon rose (whilst in Spain) to the rank of Sergeant. During the retreat to Corunna, Sergeant-Major Crosby failed, and Craufurd promoted Adams in his place. At St. Sebastian he was noticed by General Graham, for his bravery with the forlorn hope, a commission was given him, and he afterwards joined a regiment in Gibraltar, where he was made Adjutant. He then went to America, where he served with credit till he died. I believe I was the only man in the regiment who knew of his having been a rebel, and I kept the secret faithfully till his death.
[10]The names of these two officers were Chapman and Freere, and I believe they are living now.
[10]The names of these two officers were Chapman and Freere, and I believe they are living now.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION.
The embarkation—Flushing—The Walcheren fever—The doctors at fault—The Riflemen attacked—The one survivor out of thirty-nine—The veteran battalion—The independent companies.
The embarkation—Flushing—The Walcheren fever—The doctors at fault—The Riflemen attacked—The one survivor out of thirty-nine—The veteran battalion—The independent companies.
At Deal, the Rifles embarked in the Superb, a seventy-four, and a terrible outcry there was amongst the women upon the beach on the embarkation; for the ill consequences of having too many women amongst us had been so apparent in our former campaign and retreat, that the allowance of wives was considerably curtailed on this occasion, and the distraction of the poor creatures at parting with their husbands was quite heart-rending; some of them clinging to the men soresolutely, that the officers were obliged to give orders to have them separated by force. In fact, even after we were in the boats and fairly pushed off, the screaming and howling of their farewells rang in our ears far out at sea.
The weather being fair, and the fleet having a grand and imposing appearance, many spectators (even from London) came to look at us as we lay in the Downs, and we set sail (I think on the third day from our embarkation) in three divisions.
A fair wind soon carried us off Flushing, where one part of the expedition disembarked; the other made for South Beveland, among which latter I myself was. The five companies of Rifles immediately occupied a very pretty village, with rows of trees on either side its principal streets, where we had plenty of leisure to listen to the cannonading going on amongst the companies we had left at Flushing.
The appearance of the country (such as it was) was extremely pleasant, and for a few days the men enjoyed themselves much. But at the expiration of (I think) less time than a week, an awful visitation came suddenly upon us. The first I observed of it was one day as I sat in my billet, when I beheld whole parties of our Riflemen in the street shaking with a sort of ague, to such a degree that they could hardly walk; strong and fine young men who had been but a short time in the service seemed suddenly reduced in strength to infants, unable to stand upright—so great a shaking had seized upon their whole bodies from head to heel. The company I belonged to was quartered in a barn, and I quickly perceived that hardly a man there had stomach for the bread that was served out to him, or even to taste his grog, although each man had an allowance of half-a-pint of gin per day. In fact I should say that, about three weeks from theday we landed, I and two others were the only individuals who could stand upon our legs. They lay groaning in rows in the barn, amongst the heaps of lumpy black bread they were unable to eat.
This awful spectacle considerably alarmed the officers,[11]who were also many of them attacked. The naval doctors came on shore to assist the regimental surgeons, who, indeed, had more upon their hands than they could manage; Dr. Ridgeway of the Rifles, and his assistant, having nearly five hundred patients prostrate at the same moment. In short, except myself and three or four others, the whole concern was completely floored.
Under these circumstances, which considerably confounded the doctors, orders were issued (since all hopes of getting the men upon their legs seemed gone) toembark them as fast as possible, which was accordingly done with some little difficulty. The poor fellows made every effort to get on board; those who were a trifle better than others crawled to the boats; many supported each other; and many were carried helpless as infants.
At Flushing matters were not much better, except that there the soldiers had a smart skirmish with their enemies before the fever and ague attacked them. On ship-board the aspect of affairs did not mend; the men beginning to die so fast that they committed ten or twelve to the deep in one day.
It was rather extraordinary that myself, and Brooks, and a man named Bowley, who had all three been at Corunna, were at this moment unattacked by the disease, and, notwithstanding the awful appearance of the pest-ship we were in, I myself had little fear of it, I thought myself so hardened that it could not touch me. It happened, however,that I stood sentinel (men being scarce) over the hatchway, and Brooks, who was always a jolly and jeering companion (even in the very jaws of death) came past me, and offered me a lump of pudding, it being pudding-day on board. At that moment I felt struck with a deadly faintness, shaking all over like an aspen, and my teeth chattering in my head so that I could hardly hold my rifle.
Brooks looked at me for a moment, with the pudding in his hand, which he saw I could not take. "Hallo," he said, "why Harris, old boy,youare not going to begin, are you?"
I felt unable to answer him, but only muttered out as I trembled, "For God's sake get me relieved, Brooks!"
"Hallo?" said Brooks, "it's all up with Harris! You're catched hold of at last, old chap."
In fact I was soon sprawling upon the forecastle, amongst many others, in amiserable state, our knapsacks and our great-coats over us. In this state the doctors, during our short voyage, were fully employed; pails of infusion of bark were carried amongst us and given to the men in horn tumblers, and thus we arrived at Dover.
As I lay on the deck, I looked up at that splendid castle in the distance. It was identified with old England, and many a languid eye was cheered by its sight. Men naturally love to die upon their native land, and I felt I could now do so contentedly! Nay, I have that frowning English fortress in my eye, at this moment, as I then beheld it. The Warwickshire Militia were at this time quartered at Dover. They came to assist in disembarking us, and were obliged to lift many of us out of the boats like sacks of flour. If any of those militia-men remain alive, they will not easily forget that piece of duty; for I never beheld men more moved than they were at our helplessstate. Many died at Dover and numbers in Deal; whilst those who had somewhat rallied, on getting from the land of pestilence, were paraded, in order to get them on to their old quarters at Hythe.
I remember that the 43rd and 52nd Regiments (all that were able) marched with us this day to Hythe; but I'm afraid we did not (any of us) cut much of a figure on the road. In fact, such was the shaking fever we felt, we were left pretty much to our own discretion to get to our journey's end in the best manner we could. Many, indeed, would never have got into barracks without assistance. In short, when I sat down exhausted by the road-side several times during the march, and looked at the men, I thought it bore in some degree a similitude to the Corunna retreat; so awfully had disease enfeebled them.
The hospital at Hythe being filled with the sick, the barracks became a hospital,and as deaths ensued, and thinned the wards, the men were continually removed, making a progress from barrack to hospital, and from hospital to the grave. The ward of the hospital in which I myself was, accomodated eleven men, and I saw, from my bed in the corner where I lay, this ward refilled ten times, the former patients being all carried out to the grave. I had been gradually removed as the men died, until I was driven up into a corner of the ward, where I lay, and had plenty of leisure to observe my comrades in misfortune, and witness their end. Some I beheld die quietly, and others were seized in various ways. Many got out of bed in a shivering delirium, and died upon the floor in the night-time.
Having been a shoemaker in the Rifles, I had saved during my service near two hundred pounds, which I had in the bank at Hythe at this time, so that I was enabledto procure extra wine and other nourishing things, and often gave my companions in misfortune a treat also; and this I think enabled my iron constitution to keep death so long at bay.
I saw one or two of my old Peninsular comrades, whom I had often seen fighting bravely in the field, die in this hospital in a miserable condition, their bodies being swollen up like barrels.
Everything was done for us that skill could devise, and nothing could exceed the kindness and attention of Dr. Ridgeway towards us. Hot baths were brought into the hospital—and many a man died whilst in the bath.
I remember hearing, as I lay sick, that the firing over the graves of our comrades was dispensed with, the men died so fast; and when I got out, and went to the churchyard to look upon their graves I saw them lying in two lines there. Asthey in life had been enranked, so they lay also in similar order in death.
The medical men made every effort to trace the immediate cause of this mortality amongst us; and almost all the men were examined after death; but it was of no avail, as nothing could arrest the progress of the malady after it had reached a certain height. The doctor, I heard, generally attributed the deaths, in most cases, to enlargement of the spleen, as almost all were swollen and diseased in that part. I myself was dreadfully enlarged in the side, and for many years afterwards carried "an extra paunch."
As soon as the prospect began to brighten, and the men to recover a little, we managed to muster outside the hospital, some three hundred of us parading there morning and evening, for the benefit of fresh air; and medicine was served out to us as we stood enranked, the hospital orderlies passingalong the files, and giving each man his dose from large jugs which they carried.
As we got better, an order arrived to furnish two companies of the second battalion, and two companies of the third battalion, of Rifles, for Spain, as they were much wanted there. Accordingly an inspection took place, and two hundred men were picked out, all of whom were most anxious to go. I myself was rejected at that time, as unfit, which I much regretted. However, on making application, after a few days, I was accepted, principally on the recommendation of Lieutenant Cochrane, who much wished for me; and I, in consequence, once more started for foreign service.
From Hythe to Portsmouth, where we were to embark, was eight days' march; but the very first day found out some of the Walcheren lads. I myself was assisted that night to my billet, the ague having again seized me, and on the third day waggonswere put in requisition to get us along the road. As we proceeded, some of those men who had relapsed died by the way, and were buried in different places we passed through. At Chichester, I recollect, a man was taken out of the waggon in which I myself lay, who had died beside me; and at that place he was buried.
At Portsmouth I remained one night, billeted with my fellow-travellers at the Dolphin. Here I was visited by an uncle who resided in the town; and who was much shocked at seeing me so much reduced, concluding it was impossible I could survive many days. Such was the sad state we were again reduced to. The next morning spring-waggons were procured for us, and we were sent back to Hilsea barracks for the benefit of medical advice; and I took a farewell of my uncle, expecting never to see him again. Such, however, was not to be the case, as, out of the thirty-nineRiflemen who went into Hilsea hospital, I alone survived.
It may seem to my readers extraordinary that I should twice be the survivor of so many of my comrades. I can only, therefore, refer them to the medical men who attended us, if they yet live, Dr. Ridgeway, of the Rifles, and Dr. Frazer, who at that time was the surgeon at Hilsea.
I must not forget to mention an act of great kindness and humanity which was performed towards the soldiery whilst we lay sick at Hilsea Hospital. Lady Grey, who, I believe, was the wife of the Commissioner of Portsmouth Dockyard at this time, was so much struck with the state of the sufferers, that she sent, one morning, two carts loaded with warm clothing for them; giving to each man, of whatsoever regiment, who had been at Walcheren, two pairs of flannel drawers and two flannel waistcoats. This circumstance was greatly appreciated by themen, and many, like myself, have never forgotten it.
After this, being the only Rifleman left at Hilsea, Lieutenant Bardell made application to the General for leave for me to go into Dorsetshire to see my friends, which was granted; but the doctor shook his head, doubting I should ever be able to endure the journey. In about a week, however, I considered myself fit to undertake it; and, accordingly, a non-commissioned officer of one of the line regiments put me into a Salisbury coach. A lady and gentleman were my fellow passengers inside, and we started about four o'clock. They seemed not much to relish the look of a sick soldier in such close quarters; and, indeed, we had hardly cleared the town of Gosport before I gave them a dreadful fright. In short, I was attacked all at once with one of my periodical ague-fits, and shook to so desperate a degree that they were bothhorror-struck, and almost inclined to keep me company in my trembling. The lady thought that both herself and husband were lost, and would certainly catch the complaint; expressing herself as most unhappy in having begun her journey on that day. These fits generally lasted an hour and a quarter, and then came on a burning fever, during which I called for water at every place where the coach stopped. In fact, coachman, guard, and passengers, outside and in, by no means liked it, and expected every minute that I should die in the coach.
"Here's a nice go," said the coachman, as he stopped at a place called Whitchurch, "catch me ever taking up a sick soldier again if I can help it. This here poor devil's going to make a die of it in my coach."
It seemed, indeed, as if I had personally offended the burly coachman, for he made an oration at every place he stopped at, andsent all the helpers and idlers to look at me, as I sat in his coach, till at last I was obliged to beg of him not to do so.
I had two attacks of this sort during the night, and was so bad that I myself thought with the coachman, that I should never get out of the vehicle alive. Never, I should think, had passengers so unpleasant a journey as the lady and gentleman I travelled with.
At length, early in the morning, the coach stopped at a village one mile from my father's residence, which was on the estate of the present Marquis of Anglesey. I had left my father's cottage quite a boy, and although I knew the landlord of the little inn where the coached stopped, and several other persons I saw there, none recognised me; so I made myself known as well as I could, for I was terribly exhausted, and the landlord immediately got four men to carry me home.
My father was much moved at beholding me return in so miserable a plight, as were also my stepmother and my brother. I remained with them eight months, six of which I lay in a hopeless state in bed, certificates being sent every month to Hythe, stating my inability to move; and during which time Captain Hart sent four letters to the commanding officer, desiring I might be drafted out, if possible, to Spain, as, being a handicraft, I was much wanted there.
The medical men round the neighbourhood hearing of my state, many of them came to see me, in order to observe the nature of a complaint that had proved so fatal to our soldiers.
At the end of the eighth month (being once more somewhat recovered, and able to crawl about, with the aid of a stick, a few yards from our cottage door), as my mother-in-law had once or twice expressed herself burthened by this long illness, I resolved toattempt to return to my regiment. I was therefore transported in a cart to the King's Arms Inn, at Dorchester, my body being swollen up hard as a barrel, and my limbs covered with ulcers. Here the surgeons of the 9th and 11th Dragoons made an examination of me, and ordered me into Dorchester hospital, where I remained seven weeks; and here my case completely puzzled the faculty.
At length Dr. Burroughs, on making his rounds, caught sight of me as I sat on my bed, dressed in my green uniform.
"Hallo! Rifleman," he said, "how came you here?"
Being told, he looked very sharply at me, and seemed to consider.
"Walcheren," he inquired, "eh?"
"Yes, sir," I said, "and it has not done with me yet."
"Strip, my man," he said, "and lie onyour back. What have you done for him?" he asked sharply of the doctor.
The doctor told him.
"Then try with him mercury, sir," he said, "both externallyandinternally."
After saying which in a rapid manner, he turned as quickly, and proceeded in his rounds amongst the rest of the patients.
I was now salivated most desperately, after which I got a little better, and resolved, at all hazards, to try and rejoin my regiment, for I was utterly tired of the hospital life I had altogether so long led. "For Heaven's sake," I said, "let me go and die with my own regiment!"
With some little difficulty I got leave to go, and once again started, at my own expense, for Hythe, in Kent, by the coach. Before doing so, however, to my surprise, the medical man who had attended me under my father's roof, brought me in his bill, which was a pretty good one, amounting to sixty pounds! I thought this was pretty well for a poor soldier to be charged. Having still, however, enough left of my savings, I paid it; but I kept the bill, and afterwards shewed it to Dr. Scott, of the Rifles, who remarked—"It could not have been higher, Harris, if you had been a man possessing a thousand a year."
When I made my appearance in the barrack-square at Hythe, I was like one risen from the dead; for I had been so long missing from amongst the few I knew there, that I was almost forgotten. A hardy Scot, named Mc Pherson, was one of the first who recognised me.
"Eh, my certie," he said, "here's Harris come back. Why I thought, man, ye was gane amangst the lave o' them, but the deil will na kill ye, I think!"
The day after my arrival I was once more in hospital, and here I remained under Dr. Scott for twenty-eight weeks. Such wasthe Walcheren fever, and to this day I sometimes feel the remains of it in damp weather. From Hythe I was sent, amongst some other invalids, to Chelsea. Sixty of us marched together on this occasion. Many had lost their limbs, which, from wounds as well as disease, had been amputated; and altogether we did not make a very formidable appearance, being frequently obliged to be halted in the road to repair our strength, when the whole turn-out would be seen sitting or sprawling at full length by the way side.
This march took us ten days to accomplish, and when we halted at Pimlico, we were pretty well done up. We were billeted in the different public-houses in Chelsea. With others, I lodged at the Three Crowns, close beside the Bun House.
I remember we paraded in the Five Fields, then an open space, but now covered with elegant mansions, and become a part of London. Three thousand invalids musteredhere every morning—a motley group, presenting a true picture of the toils of war. There were the lame, the halt, and the blind, the sick, and the sorry, all in a lump. With those who had lost their limbs, there was not much trouble, as they became pensioners; but others were, some of them, closely examined from day to day as to their eligibility for service. Amongst others I was examined by Dr. Lephan.
"What age are you, Rifleman?" he said.
"Thirty-two, sir," I replied.
"What trade have you been of?" he inquired.
"A shoemaker," I replied.
"Where have you been?" he said.
"In Denmark, Spain, Portugal, and Walcheren," I said, "in which latter place I met the worst enemy of all."
"Never mind that," he said, "you'll do yet; and we will send you to a Veteran Battalion."
Accordingly I was appointed to the 8th Veteran Battalion, with others, and sent to Fort Cumberland. Here I joined Captain Creswell's company—an officer who had lost one eye, whilst in the 36th Regiment, in Spain.
I was again the only green jacket of the lot, and the officers assembled round me during the first muster, and asked me numerous questions about my service amongst the Rifles, for we had a great reputation in the army at this time. Major Caldwell commanded the battalion; he had been in the fifth, and received a grievous wound in the head. He was a kind and soldier-like man, but if you put him out of temper, you would soon find out that he felt his wound. Captain Picard was there, too, and Captain Flaherty, and Lieutenant Moorhead; all of them were more or less shattered, whilst their men, although most of them were young, were very goodspecimens of war's stern service. One, perhaps, had a tale to tell of Salamanca, where he lost an eye, another spoke of the breach at Badajoz, where he got six balls at once in his body. Many paraded with sticks in their hands, and altogether it was something of a different sort of force to the active chaps I had been in the habit of serving amongst. In fact, I much regretted my green jacket, and grieved at being obliged to part with it for the red coat of the Veterans.
I remained in the Veterans only four months, as, at the expiration of that time, Napoleon was sent to Elba. We were then marched to Chelsea, to be disbanded, where we met thousands of soldiers lining, the streets, and lounging about before the different public-houses, with every description of wound and casualty incident to modern warfare. There hobbled the maimed light-infantry man, the heavy dragoon, the hussar, the artilleryman, the fusileer, and specimens from every regiment in the service. The Irishman, shouting and brandishing his crutch; the English soldier, reeling with drink; and the Scot, with grave and melancholy visage, sitting on the steps of the public-house amongst the crowd, listening to the skirl of his comrades' pipes, and thinking of the blue hills of his native land. Such were Chelsea and Pimlico in 1814.
In about a week's time I was discharged, and received a pension of sixpence per day; and, for the first time since I had been a shepherd lad on Blandford Downs, I saw myself in plain clothes, and with liberty to go and come where I liked. Before, however, my pension became due, I was again called upon to attend, together with others, in consequence of the escape of Bonaparte from Elba; but I was then in so miserable a plight with the remains of thefever and ague, which still attacked me every other day, that I did not answer the call, whereby I lost my pension. And here I may perhaps as well mention a slight anecdote of the Great Duke.
The Duke, I was told, observed in Spain that several men who had come out from England after Walcheren were unable to keep up on the march, and afterwards completely failed. He inquired the reason of this, and was told they were men who had been on the Walcheren expedition.
"Then never," said the Duke, "let another man be sent here who has been at Walcheren."
At Fort Cumberland I remember another curious circumstance, which may, perhaps, in these times, be thought worthy of narration.
Many of the French prisoners had volunteered into the English service, and were formed into four companies, called theIndependent Companies. These men were smart-looking fellows, and wore a green uniform, something like the Rifles. Whilst I was with the Veterans, one of these men deserted and was re-taken at Portsmouth, and tried by court-martial at Fort Cumberland. Besides his crime of desertion he had aggravated it by gross insubordination, and he was accordingly sentenced to be flogged. We all, French and English, paraded to see the sentence carried into effect, and, in case of anything happening, and our opposite neighbours, the green jackets, shewing fight, the Veterans were all ordered to load with ball.
When the culprit heard the sentence read out to him, he was a good deal annoyed, and begged that he might be shot, as would have happened to him in his own country. Such, however, it was explained to him, could not be allowed, and he was accordingly punished. The Duke of York, whowas then Commander-in-Chief, had thought it necessary to make this example, although all of us would have been glad to see him forgiven.
Shortly after this, on Napoleon's being sent to Elba, these men were all liberated and sent home to their own country, with four pounds given to each man; and gloriously drunk they all were at Portsmouth the night they embarked.
The Veterans were very intimate and friendly with these Frenchmen, as they were quartered together; and we were all sorry to hear (whether true or false I cannot say) that on their return, their uniforms betraying their having served us, they were grossly maltreated by their fellow countrymen.