CHAPTER XI.
From Torres Vedras, we removed to Alcoentre, a small village some miles in rear of Rio Mayor; and we were kept pretty busy while in it, strengthening our position, making batteries, breast-works, abattis, &c.
The general of the brigade was quartered in the same village; and as he had, or seemed to have, a great antipathy to every thing Scottish, our regiment of course was included, and he found means to annoy us a good deal. Perhaps, he believed, with many people in England, that the Scots run wild about their native hills, eating raw oats like horses, with nothing but a kilt to cover their nakedness, and that they had no right to receive any other treatment, when they entered the army, than what is usually given to any wild animal when caged. ‘Rousing up with a long pole’ seemed to be his hobby. When exercising in the field, our regiment could do nothing right. When our guard turned out to salute him, they were either toolate, or they did not present arms properly; and he would order the sergeant to drill them for an hour; while he stood by and gave vent to the harsh epithets which he was in the habit of using on those occasions, ‘Scottish savages—stupid—barbarous,’ &c.
I have often been led to think that he studied expletives on purpose. He pretended that he could not understand a word that any of us said—that we spoke Gælic; and his aid-de-camp was called to interpret, although he had no right to understand what was said better than himself, for I believe he was also an Englishman.
As a sample—he once took a fancy to the wooden cases which the Portuguese use instead of stirrup irons, and ordered his Scottish servant to get a pair for him; for although he disliked the Scots, he employed them as his servants. The man procured them; but they were not fellows.
‘Well, sir,’ said the general, ‘have you got those things?’
‘Yes, sir, but they are no marrows.’
‘Marrows! marrows! what’s that? what’s that?’ and calling his aid-de-camp, he asked him what ‘the Scottish savage’ said.
‘He means, sir, that they are not fellows.’
‘Poh! poh! you surely do not pretend to understand what is no language.’
‘That is his meaning in his own language, sir.’
‘Nonsense, sir, you are as bad as he; go and read your dictionary.’
He was very strict in duty affairs, particularly in details, which perhaps another general would not have troubled his head about. He was very fond of surprising the sentinels at the outposts, by taking circuitous routes, and keeping under cover of the bushes. On one occasion, however, he met his match, if the story reported was true: but as I only had it from report, I will not pledge myself for its truth.
One of the men on picquet was planted as outpost sentry on the road leading to Rio Mayor.
‘Now, George,’ said the corporal to him, as he was leaving him, ‘mind that the general is out in front, keep a good look out, or he may surprise you, and you know the consequence. Be sure you challenge in time.’
‘Leave that to me,’ said Geordie.
A short time after (it was dusk when he was posted) he heard some one coming up the road very cautiously, as if wishing to avoid observation. At last, when about to turn the road, the individual, who was on horseback, clapped spurs to his horse, apparently for the purpose of passing him before he could challenge. There was no time to lose, and many a poor fellow might have been so confused at being taken unawares, that he would have neglected to challenge before the person was on him. Not so with Geordie. The moment he saw him quicken his pace, he challenged. The challenge was either not heard or purposely unheeded. Another challenge was given; the general continued his gallop without answering. ‘You’ll no tak me in that way, my gentleman,’ said Geordie; and as he gave the third and last challenge, he came to the present, and made a bullet whiz past the general’s ear. The horse was drawn in immediately.
‘What! do you mean to shoot your general, you rascal?’
‘I dinna ken wha folk are in the dark; but whether you’re a general or no, my orders are to fire at ony body that attempts to pass me without answering when I challenge. It’s the general’s orders; and I ken what I would get if I didna obey them.’
‘Well, sir, I am your general; and I wish to pass into the town.’
‘I’m no sure about ye—ye may be some French spy for ony thing I ken; and ye maun just stay whar ye are till the sergeant o’ the picquet comes; he’ll no be lang now, for the report o’ my piece would alarm them.’
At that moment the picquet arrived, and the general was allowed to proceed; but from that time, he did not trouble the outpost sentries so much.
Some time before we left these quarters to advance, an attack was made by the French, under GeneralJunot, on our advanced posts; and we were ordered under arms to defend our position, in the event of them pushing forward. During that day, and the succeeding night, the baggage of the troops in front, along with the inhabitants of the surrounding country, filled the road leading through our village. It was a melancholy sight to see the poor natives, carrying their children, and any little thing which they were able to bring with them, moving along the road, after having left their homes and property—travelling they knew not whither, desolate and friendless. In a few days they might be reduced to beg, or perhaps (what was not uncommon in Portugal) die of hunger. Alas! thought I, what misery war causes! I hope I will never see my own country in such a state.
The French were beaten back, and our troops resumed their former station; but few of the inhabitants returned. Not long after this, we were reviewed, along with part of the first division, by Lord Wellington. From the place where we were assembled, we could see Santarem, General Massena’s head-quarters. Next day (the sixth of March) the whole army was ordered to advance, as the French had retreated in three divisions, by separate routes during the night.
This opened the campaign of 1811. From Alcoentre we marched to Rio Mayor (our former quarters when we were on our way to join the army;) but it was sadly altered,—the inhabitants had mostly all left it; the houses were in ruins; and it wore a desolate appearance. Next day we crossed to Alcaneyde. From thence we proceeded to Porto de Mos.
When we entered the latter place, there was a large convent fronting us, which, as well as many of the houses, had been set on fire by the French. I never before witnessed such destruction. The finest furniture had been broken up for firewood; the very floors torn up, beds cut in pieces, with their contents thrown about, intermixed with kitchen utensils, broken mirrors, china, &c. &c., all in one heterogeneous mass of ruin, and not an inhabitant to be seen.
We had scarcely taken up our quarters, until I was called out for duty, and placed on the commissary guard. The mules with the stores had arrived, and the store-keeper looking for a place to put them in, when we joined him. At last he pitched on a chapel for the purpose. There was a large fire in the middle of the floor, on which was heaped broken pieces of the altar, wooden images, frames of pictures; even the ornamented wood-work of the organ was broken up for the purpose.
In searching for the cleanest place to set down the bags of biscuit, we found a door leading to some place apart from the chapel. As it was quite dark, I caught up a burning piece of wood to inspect the place—but what was my horror, when I entered and found the half-consumed skeletons of human beings on every side; some lying, others kneeling, and more of them standing upright against the walls. The floor was covered with ashes, in many places still red. I stood fixed to the spot—the burning stick dropped from my hand. I informed some of my comrades of what we had seen, and we re-entered. Such an appalling sight was never witnessed. Of those who had sunk on the floor, nothing remained but the bones; while the others, who were in a kneeling or standing posture, were only partially consumed; and the agonised expression of their scorched and blackened features was awful beyond description.
Next morning we continued our march to Leria, and on entering it found it burned. We were quartered in a convent outside the town, which was partially consumed, where we remained the succeeding day.
On the top of a hill, to the left of the town, was a sort of redoubt. I went with Dennis to take a view of the place, and going up to where some of our soldiers were standing, we found three children lying, two already dead, but the other was still breathing. There were pieces of biscuit lying beside them, which our soldiers had brought—but it was too late. They had evidently perished from hunger; one of them hadexpired with the bit in his mouth. This was part of the horrors of war; but only a part. The wanton cruelty of the French soldiers, on this retreat, defies description.
From Leria we advanced towards Pombal, in front of which the French army had concentrated their force and made a stand; but they retired during the night, and took up a strong position at the end of a defile between Pombal and Redinha, with their right on a wood, and their left occupying the high ground above the river of Redinha, the town being in their rear. In this position our division attacked their left, the light division their right, and the fourth their centre; the rest of our army being in reserve. Their right was soon dislodged from their position in the wood, and retreated across a narrow bridge over the Redinha, followed by our light troops; but as the fords and bridge were commanded by their cannon, some time was lost before a sufficient number of troops could be passed over, to make a new disposition to attack the heights on which they had taken post. A portion of the division crossed the river by swimming, headed by Major Lloyd; but the columns moved on towards the bridge. As we were advancing, a cannon shot from the enemy struck our column, killed a sergeant, and wounded two or three men; besides tearing our armourer’s knapsack open, and scattering its contents about in every direction—the poor fellow was so frightened that he grew sick, went to the rear, and soon after died.
Our troops having passed the river, we soon drove them from their position back upon the main body, and next day their whole army was strongly posted at Condeixa. Our division was ordered to march through the mountains on their left towards the only road open for their retreat, which had the effect of dislodging them from their strong position; here our part of the duty was very fatiguing, for the hills were so steep that we had to scramble up the one side on our hands and feet, and slide down in the same manner on the other.
The French had retreated in such haste from their position at Condeixa that they left the communication with Coimbra unguarded, and our army communicated with Colonel Trant and the Portuguese militia, who were in possession of it.
They were now obliged to abandon all the positions which they had successively taken in the mountains, and their rear guard was thrown back on the main body at Miranda de Corvo, from which they immediately retreated, destroying part of their ammunition and baggage. At this place we passed many dead bodies of French and Portuguese, lying on the road; and one part of it was covered with asses, which the French had hamstrung before they left them. It was pitiable enough to see the poor creatures in this state; yet there was something ludicrous in the position that the animals had taken, when thus cruelly lamed; they were sitting in a group upon their hinder end, staring in each other’s faces, seemingly in deep consultation on some important subject, and looking as grave and dull as many an assembly of theirbiped brethrenat home.
The enemy now took up a new position on the river Ceira, leaving a division at a small village as an advanced guard, which was attacked by the third and light divisions, and after some hard fighting their army retired across the Ceira during the night, destroying the bridge. The enemy suffered severely here, for besides their killed and wounded, numbers were drowned in crossing the river.
Having taken up another position, from which they were driven by our division, with the first, and light, they concentrated their whole army on the Seirra Moito, from which they retired on the eighteenth, and our army occupied the ground they had left. They now continued their retreat so rapidly that our army, with the exception of our division, the sixth, and light, were halted for the necessary supplies of provision to come up. From this until the twenty-seventh we followed them through the mountains, harassing their rear, and suffered much fatigue, forduring that time we were very ill supplied with rations, at times wanting bread and rum for two days together, and when we did get it, perhaps only half allowance; we were almost always supplied with beef, but it was of that description that there was little nourishment in it. The cattle were brought from Barbary, and often had to travel many hundred miles before they were used, with very little to eat during their journey; the consequence was, that when killed they were nothing more than a mass of emaciated muscle, with a semi-transparent covering of, what would be a perversion of language to call fat—it was more like a coating of train oil. It was never bled properly; and when boiled, it was as tough and stringy as a piece of junk. The water it was boiled in was dignified with the name of soup: and if the blood which boiled out of the beef, along with the wood ashes that fell into it, constituted soup, we had it in perfection.
One day we had halted rather early; at this time we had been without rations for two days. Many a curse was poured on the head of the commissary, who was considered the responsible person.
‘There comes the stores, at last,’ cried one of the men.
‘Where? where?’ said those around. Every eye was now directed to a hill at some distance, where a long train of mules were perceived successively rising over its summit, and bending their way towards the division. The men were in transports of joy; a general cheer greeted their appearance.
‘We will have full rations to-day,’ cried one; ‘and rum too,’ said another, ‘for I can see casks on the mules.’
Another cheer succeeded this discovery; and we were dancing about overjoyed. ‘Who goes for the rations? Get out blankets for the biscuit, and camp kettles for the rum.’ There were soon enough of volunteers for this duty. The mules had by this time got into a sort of defile. Every eye was on the stretch, waiting for their re-appearance. As the first muleemerged from the place where they were hid, every face was dressed in smiles; but the next second produced an effect, similar to that which a criminal might feel, who had been informed of his reprieve on the scaffold, and the next moment told it was a mistake; for it turned out to be mules with ammunition for the division. Never did I witness such a withering effect on men, as this disappointment produced. We stood looking at each other for a minute, in all the agony of hope deferred: the next was opened by a torrent of execration on all concerned. Those who have never experienced extreme hunger can form no idea of our feelings.
A day or two after this, we crossed a river and ascended a hill, where we encamped. Dennis and I were for duty, and both placed on the out picquet, which was posted on the face of a hill in front of the division. The French were on the opposite rise, and a small river ran at the foot of it. We had only got one day’s rations from the time the incident mentioned above occurred; and as Dennis expressed it, ‘our bellies were thinking our throats were cut.’
I procured leave from the officer to go to the river for water; intending to proceed a little farther down, to try if I could find anything that I could eat. Turning round the hill, I came to a mill; and entering it, found a number of soldiers belonging to different regiments of the division busy grinding Indian corn; others were employed drawing a baking of bread, which the French had left in their hurry, when we took up our position. I attempted to help myself to some corn, which was lying in a basket.
‘Drop that like a hot potato,’ said one of the Connaught Rangers.
I tried another basket, but it was also appropriated; and as there were none of my regiment there, I could not expect to succeed by force; so I left the place sorrowful enough, on my way back to the picquet, with a cargo of cold water—poor cheer, certainly. But just as I turned round the hill, I met my friend Dennis, who had got leave from the officer on some pretence togo down to the river. I told him my melancholy story; he paused for a moment; then clapping his hand to his forehead, he exclaimed, ‘Now I have it! Give me the canteens.’
When I gave them to him, he poured out the water, and slung them over his shoulder.
‘Now, just stand there a minute,’ said he, ‘and I’ll show you a scatter.’
He then commenced running, with the canteens clattering at his back. Those who were in the mill, being startled by the noise, looked out to see what was the matter. When Dennis saw them, he cried out, ‘Och, ye rogues o’ the world, run for your lives; for the division has fell in, and the provost is coming down with his guard; and every one of yees will be taken.’
They were all out in a moment.
‘Which way is he coming?’
‘This way,’ said Dennis, pointing to the way he had come himself. ‘I am on picquet, and I just run down to give you warning.’
They all took to their heels in the opposite direction, leaving the field clear to Dennis and me; and we lost no time in filling our haversacks.
The right of the French army had retreated by the high road upon Celerico, but the left (which we were pursuing) had fallen back upon Govea and the mountains of Guarda; and having augmented their force, held the position in great strength. Our army having collected in the neighbourhood of Celerico, on the morning of the 29th our division moved for the purpose of flanking the enemy, and the light and sixth divisions having moved also, by different routes, in the direction of Guarda, the attack was combined in such a manner that the enemy were nearly surprised, and abandoned many of their effects in their flight, without attempting to fire a shot, notwithstanding the strong position they occupied,[11]and retired on Sabugal on the Coa, leaving an advanced guard on our side.
The position which the enemy had now taken was very strong, the river behind which they were posted being difficult of access, and could only be approached by its left.
Our troops were set in motion on the morning of the third April, to turn the enemy’s left above Sabugal, and to force the passage of the bridge of that town. A strong corps of the enemy were posted on a height immediately above the bridge.
The light division and cavalry were ordered to cross the river at two separate fords, upon the enemy’s left. The fifth division and artillery were destined to attack the bridge, and our division to cross at a ford about a mile above the town. The light division crossed first, and commenced the attack, but they were warmly received, and the action was for some time doubtful. Our division now crossed and attacked their centre; while at the same time the fifth division crossing the bridge, ascended the heights on the right flank of the enemy, and the cavalry appeared in rear of their left; they made a precipitate retreat, leaving a howitzer in possession of the light division, and about two hundred killed on the ground, six officers, and three hundred prisoners.
As we descended the hill towards the river, we passed a convent or chapel, half way down; at the door lay an old man, who had been killed with a musket shot, and a genteelly-dressed Portuguese was standing beside him; he spoke to us as we passed, but we had no time then to pay any attention to what he said. We learned after, from the men who were following us with the baggage, that he had been hung up by some of the French soldiers, because he would not, or could not, show them where he had hid his money. His old father, who was lying at the door, had been shot, and his mother’s throat cut. His sisters had been first violated bythe monsters, and then cruelly used: one of them had her eyes blackened, and the other her arm broken. His life was saved by the French General, who came up just as he had been suspended, and ordered him to be cut down. Such were the tender mercies of the French soldiery!
When we had gained the edge of the river, the French columns were posted on the height above us. We passed the river under a heavy fire, and proceeded to ascend the hill. We could now see that more of our army had crossed, both to our right and left. As we advanced up the hill, we formed line. General Picton rode up in front of us, with his stick over his shoulder, exposed to the heavy fire of the enemy, as composedly as if he had been in perfect safety. ‘Steady, my lads, steady!’ said he; ‘don’t throw away your fire until I give you the word of command.’ We were now close on them; the balls were whizzing about our ears like hailstones. The man before me received a shot in the head, and fell. ‘Why don’t they let us give the rascals a volley,’ said some of the men. The left of our brigade, which was nearest them, now opened a heavy fire; and by the time the line was all formed, the French had taken to their heels. At this moment a severe rain storm commenced, and darkened the air so much that we lost sight of them completely; when the sky cleared up, they were discovered, about a mile forward, scrambling their way over hedge and ditch without any regularity. The ground which they had occupied now lay before us, strewed with the dead and wounded; and the Portuguese regiment belonging to our division were busy stripping them naked. In this barbarous action, however, they were joined by very few of the British. The division to our right and left had by this time succeeded in turning the flanks of the French army; and they were now retreating in great confusion.
After waiting under arms for some time, we were ordered to encamp on the ground we then occupied, where we remained during that night.
FOOTNOTES:[11]Guarda lies on the top of a high hill; we were much fatigued in ascending it, and entered the town with empty stomachs, but we were agreeably surprised to find that the French had left their dinners for us ready cooked, as in their haste they had left them on the fire in the different houses where they had been lodged. In one house where some of their officers were quartered, and had been obliged to retreat from table, after it was laid for dinner, some wag placed a mule’s head in the centre, with a label in its mouth on which was written ‘Pour Mons. Jean Bull’
[11]Guarda lies on the top of a high hill; we were much fatigued in ascending it, and entered the town with empty stomachs, but we were agreeably surprised to find that the French had left their dinners for us ready cooked, as in their haste they had left them on the fire in the different houses where they had been lodged. In one house where some of their officers were quartered, and had been obliged to retreat from table, after it was laid for dinner, some wag placed a mule’s head in the centre, with a label in its mouth on which was written ‘Pour Mons. Jean Bull’
[11]Guarda lies on the top of a high hill; we were much fatigued in ascending it, and entered the town with empty stomachs, but we were agreeably surprised to find that the French had left their dinners for us ready cooked, as in their haste they had left them on the fire in the different houses where they had been lodged. In one house where some of their officers were quartered, and had been obliged to retreat from table, after it was laid for dinner, some wag placed a mule’s head in the centre, with a label in its mouth on which was written ‘Pour Mons. Jean Bull’