CHAPTER II.
Arrival at Head-quarters—Ciudad Rodrigo—The Retreat—Its Disasters—Capture of General Paget—Personal Anecdotes—Scarcity of Provisions—Courts-martial in the Army—Business of a Judge-Advocate—Wellington.Head-quarters, Rueda, Nov. 5, 1812.
Arrival at Head-quarters—Ciudad Rodrigo—The Retreat—Its Disasters—Capture of General Paget—Personal Anecdotes—Scarcity of Provisions—Courts-martial in the Army—Business of a Judge-Advocate—Wellington.
Head-quarters, Rueda, Nov. 5, 1812.
My dear M——,
Atlast I have arrived safely at head-quarters, as they have been kind enough to come half-way to meet me. From Salamanca, we proceeded on the first day to Alba de Tormes, a town in a fine situation on the Tormes, with the remains of a castle of various dates, extensive and picturesque; part of it, particularly the entrance staircase, very richly ornamented. The whole was striking, and the vicinity of the town was interesting, for here it was that the French so completely beat the unhappy Spaniards, and put them to death by thousands, almost in cold blood. We saw where General del Parques’ cavalry were posted, and the positions of the French. On our road near Salamanca we also observed at a distance, on the other side of the river, the hills where the battle of Salamanca was fought; and our route lay in that of the pursuit through Alba, then on to Peneranda, another good old town, and so, through villages, to Arevalo, where we arrived in four days, tracing men’s bones and bits of soldiers’ dress, as well as horse bones and carcasses, on the route thither.
This country resembles Salisbury Plain, in open cultivation of corn, and is covered very thick with neatvillages, with a general appearance of comfort. Arevalo is a large place in ruins. There are many remains of fine richly-wooded brickwork, convents, churches, many good houses, and the town standing very finely on a hill, nearly surrounded by the river, which runs in a deep hollow round it, with four or five substantial and rather picturesque bridges. Our route was by Valladolid, where we should have been in three days, and which I regret much not to have seen, for I hear it is second only to Madrid, and very little damaged. Had I proceeded on the route I should have reached Valladolid the day before the French entered it. Hearing that the army was rapidly retiring, the road became unsafe. No one knew where head-quarters were to be; the treasure, and my mules with it, were consequently halted, and instructions were written for. For four days we remained at Arevalo. The treasure party were then ordered to Olmedo to deliver their cargo, and head-quarters were here at Rueda. I proceeded with them to Olmedo, rather a handsome and a large town, where I was housed in the good quarters which had been occupied by the Prince of Orange. When I arrived here, my beasts were kept standing loaded in the streets, and all of us without anything to eat until past six, before I could get a quarter. The people were civil, but I had to go to the Quarter-Master-general, Adjutant-general, to the billet-manager, to the Military Secretary, &c. One said, “go here;” another, “go there;” a third sent a serjeant to inquire, and then thought no more about it.
At last I procured an indifferent quarter vacated by a Commissary, only a shed, and holes through the floor into the cellar below. My animals, therefore, stood all night in the entrance of the passage.
This morning, 5th, I heard of a Spanish aide-de-camp of Castanos’, who is here, and who had three small stables close to me. I found him in bed at nine o’clock,but he could speak French, and I persuaded him to give me one of the stables for my four animals. Thus we are better off to-day, and, as a favour, I have got them something to eat. I was introduced to Lord Wellington this morning, and delivered my letters. He was very courteous. We conversed for half an hour, and I am to dine with him at six to-day, in full uniform. He is to send me fifty cases against officers, to examine, in order to ascertain whether any can be made out on evidence, which is the great difficulty. There is a caricature here of Johnny Newcome, who makes it out till sent to the rear rolled up in a blanket in an ox-car, creeping on at the rate of two miles an hour to Lisbon. We are in hourly expectation of moving. The bridges are repaired, and the French within three leagues, and able to cross if they choose. General Hill is expected here to-day. His forces are at Arevalo. Soult is in Madrid; whether they push on further is to be seen.
Few reinforcements have arrived; eighteen thousand Spaniards (such as they are) are with us. The lower classes of the people are a very fine race in person, talents, and feelings, and vastly superior to the Portuguese. It is very provoking that rank and prejudice render this of no avail. The inhabitants of the town seem half French. About six hundred French crossed over to us last night, but retired again. The cavalry were off in the middle of the night from head-quarters. I was alarmed for a moment, but all seems quiet this morning. The last five days have been very fine; cold dewy mornings, but clear sunny days, damp cold evenings, but for the time of the year here very fine. There are very queer-looking military figures here, some English, a few Portuguese, many more Spanish. The whole scene presents an odd medley.
Ciudad Rodrigo, November 19, 1812.—To continue my diary from Rueda. Two days afterwards, the 7th,an order to march at four in the morning came, as soon as Hill’s army was within reach. I then first saw what it was to put seventy thousand men in motion, about ten thousand public, and a greater number of private mules, horses, &c. At five we started, and about two that day I reached head-quarters. Torricello by four o’clock. At five next morning started again for Petueja. Here the head-quarters had only thirty houses for one hundred and fifty officers. Lord Wellington and the Prince of Orange had only one room each. I was ordered a league in advance, where I found Castanos, who had come in for better quarters. He sent me on another half-league, but when a mile on the road he passed me, as he had heard that the next was the best quarter. So I returned, and at three o’clock got a little hole and a stable. About five came in about three thousand Spanish troops. Half my house was down in a moment for firing, and nearly all the owner’s property, pans, dishes, straw, &c., stolen. I secured mine, which was attacked, by swallowing a mouthful and packing up and keeping guard. The remainder of the house was also saved; and, by the help of a Spanish officer, who took a fancy to the kitchen fire, the house was cleared with fist and foot. My animals were not safe, as my man heard one soldier say he would have one before morning. I saved them by putting them in a row in the passage close to me, where they stood for the night. Fires all round us; noises of all kinds; people breaking in. There were only about six civilians, English, in the village. At five next day off again, and at daylight joined the general train on the road to Salamanca. It was easily found, for it extended five or six miles.
The day before we again started three cases were laid before me on which to draw charges. Upon these I was to report to Lord Wellington next day. I drew them up, but he was too busy to receive them. When I wenthome and sent for a paper, the answer was, “All packed up;” and it seemed that I ought to be so too, as our position was turned, and we were all ordered to be loaded and ready to start. After much hurry, I was ready soon after twelve. My beasts stood loaded at the door till seven in the evening; then came orders to unload, but to be loaded by four next morning, and to start for a hill a league off, and there wait for orders. There was only one long bridge to pass the whole army, and it was near seven before we were all over.
It rained hard. We stood on the hill loaded and waiting for orders till one o’clock. Nearly the whole of our army was in sight round us, cooking their dinners in the rain, in their new position. The French were all around, about a league off, their fires visible in the woods, and the heads of their columns visible with a glass. They would not attack us, as they might, but manœuvred to turn our right wing. Had there been a battle we should have had a fine view of the beginning at least. At one o’clock we saw our whole army break up and put itself in motion; and orders came to us to march and keep with the second column. This we did, marching in the rain, in a fine confusion, till five o’clock, when Lord Wellington halted at a miserable place for head-quarters, and the men bivouacked on the swampy ground. I was ordered on a league further. Darkness soon came on, and the rain descended in torrents. Misdirected by some Spanish muleteers, I lost my way, and did not reach any village for three leagues, and not till nine at night, wet and starved, as the Salamanca people, in our confusion, stole my bread, &c.
I was the only English officer there, and got the best quarter at the parish priest’s, the best house there. Here I procured a loaf of bread, fire, and a bed, which were no small comforts. I got, however, but little sleep, not knowing how to proceed next day, and being awarethat the French were close at hand. By my map I found that I was in the nearest road to Ciudad Rodrigo, and, taking a retreat to be the object, I determined to wait till eight or nine o’clock next day, and observe whether any one passed. By that time half the army was on the road through the village, and Sir Edward Paget took my quarter for the last night’s rest he had before he was taken prisoner. I then had a short march in the rain again this day to Aldea Quella and to Boleado. In two hours’ time I got a quarter through Colonel Campbell’s influence; and because the stables would not hold a large horse, all the mules, half the servants, all the soldiers, and most of the officers, were out in the wet. Three Spanish officers burst into my quarters at night, and the people were hammering at the door every moment for straw, shelter, &c., sick and all sorts. In spite of my vigilance, either the Spanish officers or the people of the house stole my pistols out of my room, and finished by purloining the bread and rum of my men. Honesty is not a Spanish virtue. We all of us lose things daily. At two next day we loaded, and at three started for this place, twenty miles, four hours before daylight. Luckily we had some moon. I stuck to Lord Wellington’s carriage and baggage, thinking the people in charge of them would be best informed, though my own inquiries elicited other intelligence than theirs.
I was told the rivers that way were not passable, and we found the whole road almost under water for miles, ankle, and even knee deep, and three rivers to pass. Many mules were upset or stuck fast, and much baggage damaged or lost. I had only one load overset, and that at the edge, and we saved all, and not much damage done. By daylight there was a general halt; no one knew the ford or the road. At last we passed the river a mile above; but then, finding the French had been in the village three miles off the last night, we all turnedoff by a by-road six miles round, and at last arrived here at Ciudad Rodrigo, miserably cold, with animals knocked up, sore backs, &c., about two o’clock. In the confusion here, at last I got a bad quarter in the same house with Colonel Gordon, Lord Wellington’s aide-de-camp. But I have a place for my animals, and hundreds have no room for animals, or even for themselves. We halt to-day, whether for a longer time I know not. The army is mostly passing the river to-day. We lost many men in the retreat, but a very little money is missing. The sick are numerous. Two officers have died of fatigue on the road, in which dead mules are to be met with in plenty, and some men. To-day we are relating our adventures. We get but little barley for our horses, no hay or straw. The cavalry have been without it for some days; but this is considered a very orderly retreat. Sir Edward Paget accidentally fell into the enemy’s hands near his own division, within six hundred yards of it, between that and another. The French are said to have ninety thousand men, with nine thousand cavalry. They pressed hard until yesterday; they then relaxed when they might have done us most mischief. The roads and weather, I suppose, and the want of food and forage, impeded them. I hope they will now leave us quiet. I am very sorry for Sir Edward Paget on the public account and on my own, as I found him most friendly, civil, and good-natured. This capture is also a triumph to the French.
Malliarda de Sorda, November 26th, 1812.—We are now in our winter quarters, and fill all the villages and places for twenty miles round on the Portugal side of Ciudad Rodrigo, the works of which are still quite out of repair where our trenches were made, as the Spanish new work has all fallen in. Wellington’s head-quarters are at Frenada, an old station; the doctors are all at Castello Bom; and the other civil departments, in which I amincluded, all at this place, Malliarda de Sorda. We are distant four miles of most infamous rocky road from Frenada, and eight from Castello Bom. This I fear must shut me off from nearly all society, as it would be paying most dear for a dinner at Frenada or Castello Bom, to return in the dark, along roads compared with which those of Ireland or Cornwall are bowling-greens. We are in three wretched villages, in a country like Dartmoor, but more wood near, all rocks around, and stone-wall enclosures, and rocky roads; then woods, with open wastes for twenty miles round. I have a room opening to the street, without ceiling, only open loose pantiles, with holes to let out the smoke of a fireplace without a chimney; a window tinned up by last year’s occupier, except four small panes, two of which are broken; there is a hole in the floor to look through at my five animals and three servants, who all sleep on the straw below me.
The weather for the last three days has been a complete English December, cutting easterly winds; and on the 23rd I will vouch for ice three-quarters of an inch thick. All the Sierras are white with snow. I found Lord Wellington’s secretaries sitting with candles at twelve o’clock in the day, in order to stop their holes and windows with curtains, and burning charcoal fires. We have had every variety of weather here in six weeks: I never remember it colder in England for the time of the year. Here are no books, no women but ladies of a certain description; and as to living, you would be surprised what good living is here, except at Lord Wellington’s table, and about two more, and even at those no port wine, only thin claret, and the country wines and brandy.
At Ciudad Rodrigo there was starvation: no corn, no hay, no straw, no bread, no rum, for three days, only beef and biscuit; at last we got some mouldy biscuit for the animals, which I mixed with carrot, cabbage, and potatoes; everything was devoured. Tea, 22s.and 25s.a pound; butter, 4s.; bread, 1s.6d.a pound, above 6s.the loaf; no wine or brandy; gin, 12s.the bottle; straw, a dollar for a small bundle, and all sold in a scramble. The truth was, the troops, poor fellows! came through the town quite starving; during the retreat supplies had been mismanaged—regiments were three and four days without rations, and numbers died of absolute starvation, besides the sick. Lord Wellington is, I hear, very angry. Till I saw B—’s mess, &c., I had no notion of the loss in this retreat, and the great suffering of the men and horses. From what I hear, not merely were about one thousand made prisoners, but five or six thousand put for some timehors de combat, by sickness, starvation, and want of horses, &c. The cavalry were too weak to act, mainly from want of food. A great many animals were killed. A treasure-party had a narrow escape: the French were in sight while they were loading, and much baggage was lost. Lord Dalhousie lost almost all; five horses and thirteen loaded mules, with his name at full length upon his baggage—another French triumph! Colonel Delancey lost three horses, taken at Salamanca; and the men suffered shockingly from the wet. The whole was so unlucky; as had the three days’ rain begun at Salamanca, in all probability the French would not have crossed the Tormes and turned our position, and we might still have been there; and had they come three days later, we should have saved our three or four thousand sick. We should, moreover, have had good roads and dry nights, no floods and torrents to wade through by day, nor swamps to sleep on by night; in fact, we should only have lost drunken stragglers. The distress at Madrid, after all the joy and gaiety, was dreadful. When we left the town sixty thousand poor were contending for the remains of our stores—the worst objects had the preference given them. King Joseph’s Palace was left by him entirely furnished; and as Lord Wellingtonmade a point that he should find it again the same, nothing was touched by our army.
The 26th.—To-day is a cheerful, frosty, Christmas-day, and within an English farm-house the whole would do very well: but I go, like others, to bed at seven o’clock, to keep myself warm. General Castanos and his troops are gone back to Gallicia, which is one grievance removed at least. Ballasteros is in disgrace at Ceuta, for disobedience. I fear, upon the whole, the Spanish cause has suffered much by our advance to Madrid and Burgos. The people find we cannot support them, and will be very shy in future; and the misery of the peasantry and townspeople all the time is extreme. There are few deceptions in England like that about the life in Spain.
Frenada, Head-Quarters, December 8th, 1812.—I will now tell you one day’s adventure and how I came here. Two days after writing from Malliarda de Sorda, where I was lonely and heard nothing, I determined to walk over to see how things went on here, and put my papers into my pocket in case I should be able to see Lord Wellington. On my arrival I met the Quarter-Master who managed quarters: he told me he had kept a miserable hole for me, if I chose to move; it was much worse than even my old one, but I instantly said “Yes.” The next person I met was Lord Wellington, and I asked him when he wished to see me, and whether he had any objection to my moving here? He said I might take my choice and take the best of the bad. He then asked whether I had my papers about me? I said, “All.” “Come up,” said he then; and in ten minutes he looked over my papers, which consisted of four sets of charges against officers. These were all settled with a few judicious alterations, in which I entirely agreed. I then came out and wrote them fair in the Adjutant-general’s office, and two were sent off to Lisbon that day.
On my way home I found a Portuguese half drunk,killing his wife. He had bruised her, and laid her head open with a large stone; this occurred on the open road. As I was not in full strength from the effects of a recent accident, I could only gently interfere, and the brute persisted in his cruelty. A servant then came by on horseback who struck him with a good stout stick; but the fellow turned on him, and hit him with a great stone on the head. Thereupon two dragoons, who saw the whole affair, came up, and were going to cut the Portuguese down, when I begged them only to use the backs of their sabres, which they did sharply, and brought him into the village.
I have dined again with Lord Wellington, and at Castello Bom with Dr. Macgregor, whence I walked home with Colonel Colin Campbell at ten at night with a lantern, over rocks and streams. I have also seen Lord Wellington again, twice, about charges; but I understand I am not to go over to some Courts-martial which he has just fixed to take place in ten days, at two divisions, about forty miles from hence, but to stay here. He is shortly, as general report says, going to Cadiz or somewhere. At Lord Wellington’s we had a curious conversation, about himself, Canning and his speeches, and Vetus’s letters in theTimes.[1]He joined in and indeed led the conversation, as if talking of persons and things he was not connected with, but seemed not satisfied with the Ministry, though he did not favour the opposition. He said he took in theCourierto know what government meant to do, &c., and as a decent paper to show General Castanos.
It has not lately been very cold; indeed, we had four or five charming days, but the rain has now begun again; but want of all books and society is the worst. The little conversation here beyond the topics of the day is ofa review a year old, or a pamphlet. The dress here is a cap made of velvet, cloth, and fur, with a peak over the eyes (that is a foraging cap); the handsomest are all of fur, dark or grey fur, the former the best, with a broad gold band and tassel on the top. With this is worn a dress great coat, or plain, with military buttons, grey pantaloons; this is the costume for dinners. Morning dress—overalls, boots, and white or more generally fancy waistcoats; in winter blue and black velvet, or cloth, with fancy buttons of gold, and narrow stripes of gold as an edging. There are four suttlers here, who sell everything, and we are, all things considered, well supplied. We have one little Exeter-Change shop, but all very dear; pepper and mustard dear, a small sauce bottle 7s., tea three dollars a pound, cheese 4s.a pound, porter 5s.a bottle, gin and brandy 7s.6d., port wine 6s.6d., milk 1s.a quart, salt-butter 3s.a pound, sugar 1s.8d., pork (no other meat) 1s.8d.a pound, oil 5s.a quart. These are the prices here athead-quarters. Remember that distinction; not the national prices.
Head-Quarters, Frenada, December 31st, 1812.—For the last month I have really been too busy to write. During the last week, before Lord Wellington went away, he kept me hard at work, and left directions to endeavour to get rid of all the cases pending for Courts-martial. About thirty-two cases were made over to me, some of nearly two years’ standing. We have now a Court sitting at Lisbon, one in the second division at Coria, one in the seventh at Govea, and another here which I attend myself four miles off at Fuentes d’Onore. I have sent six to Lisbon, five to the seventh division, five to the second, and intended taking seven myself to Fuentes d’Onore; the rest have in some way been arranged. Hitherto we have made little progress from the sickness, which keeps back witnesses. I have only myself tried one, and hope to finish to-morrow. One charge is ofthat of a mad Commissary, whose trial was put off last week, on account of his being raving. He wrote to the Adjutant-general a mad letter, amongst other things telling him that he had ten thousand men, that he might drive all head-quarters to “Nebuchadnezzar’s fiery furnace, where,” he added, “Lord Wellington and you may sit at the head of the table.” I served him myself with his notice of trial; he appeared very wild, and I have great doubts how he will behave.
I have had long instructions to write to the three other Judge-Advocates and summonses for witnesses to send to every regiment and to the Commandants about here, and that over and over again. As fast as one prisoner or witness got well, another became sick, and half the cases are now pending in this way. Then comes a long case to abstract for Lord Wellington; then an opinion for the Adjutant-general by return of post. For these three weeks I have been writing nearly seven hours a day, circulating copies of the charges to prisoners, to the Courts, and to the prosecutors, and much of my labour is thrown away by the sickness of the prisoners and witnesses. I have nine here in the Provost’s hands for trial, and five are in the hospital—one just dead. There is one comfort, the reflection that such a press of business is never likely to recur. TheGazetteand newspapers you sent me afforded me considerable amusement and comfort. Since Lord Wellington has been absent, Colonel Colin Campbell remains to do the honours and invite at the great house. I spent Christmas-day there, and have dined several times. Besides a good dinner and the best society, I there hear the latest news and get honour. The party is now very small.
After ten days of horrible damp, cold, rainy weather, we have now a thoroughly good genuine English frost, with an east wind, quite like an old friend in England;but the sun has some power, so that it is like our frosts in February rather than Christmas. We see here very few of the officers. Just before Lord Wellington went he was angry at all the applications for leave of absence, observing, “A pretty army I have here! They all want to go home: but no more shall go except the sick.” As the sick are now fast recovering, I may mention what I did not like to do a month ago, that the returns of the sick were then between nineteen and twenty thousand! You would have no idea of this. I have dined here with Major and Mrs. Scobell, the only lady here. I have also dined with Lord Aylmer, the acting Adjutant-general here, who is very civil. The Commissary, Mr. H——, keeps a good table, and often asks me. Dr. H—— is our doctor now at head-quarters—a sensible man. Lord March has lent me two volumes of Goldsmith’s works.
Castanos’ army went back in an orderly manner. Our Commissary reports well of them, and of the country, where, he says (that is, in the Tras os Montes), there is an abundance of bread, poultry, turkeys, &c., and of many things we have no notion of here. They have procured two turkeys at head-quarters this Christmas, and have had mince-meat in tins by the post from Lisbon.
We send to the woods for firing, and bring it home on the mules, and send out from four to six leagues, that is, from sixteen to twenty-four miles, for hay or straw. Ten pounds of straw a-day is the allowance for the animals, but I fear it will not hold out, as the villages are now nearly all emptied. We shall soon have to get little bundles of dry grass, which are already brought to our splendid market for sale. The Lamego wine is the only wine which I can drink with comfort,—it is a sort of port. The Sierra di Francia is the next best,—a much lighter wine, from the Sierrastowards Madrid, from hence between thirty and forty miles off.
Lord Wellington, whom I saw every day for the last three or four days before he went, I like much in business affairs. He is very ready, and decisive, and civil, though some complain a little of him at times, and are much afraid of him. Going up with my charges and papers for instructions, I feel something like a boy going to school. I expect to have a long report to make on his return.
I hear a good account of Ballasteros’s army: that it is better equipped than that of Castanos’. I wish it had done more. The French are supposed still to have about a hundred and eighty thousand men in the Peninsula. I do not believe their force in this neighbourhood has increased or diminished. Some have receded to Vittoria, but have been traced by the spies (of whom we have one constantly at Burgos) no further, nor have many supplies of men to any amount been discovered, I believe. We have some difficulty in getting fed; bread in the markets is about 9d.a pound; barley for the horses very scarce: we often go without for two days. A commissary-agent is now in Salamanca buying bread. The villages between Rodrigo and Salamanca, described in my journey, are, it is said, quite destroyed. We did much, the French the rest. Pork is the only thing abundant, about 1s.6d.per pound, very rich but too fat, and the fat not firm; the flesh sweeter and richer than that of our pork, from the acorns on which the swine feed, and which are like chestnuts.
I was a little nervous at the first Court-martial, but it went off pretty well, and I got the whole over and brought away eight sides of notes in three hours. To-morrow I take my fair copy to be signed, &c. In my way to this Court-martial, Henry and I were puzzled by a river which seemed to be over our necks,—a deep holeoff a rock. At last I made out a way zigzag, only about three feet deep; there was no one near or on either side; I should have had a swim, I am told, as people are sometimes drowned there. A ducking the first time of my appearance in public would have been awkward.
Two cases have just been brought in to me; they are for shooting natives, one an alcalde. Adieu.
FOOTNOTES:[1]It was generally supposed that these celebrated letters, often compared to those of Junius, were written by Lord Wellesley.
[1]It was generally supposed that these celebrated letters, often compared to those of Junius, were written by Lord Wellesley.
[1]It was generally supposed that these celebrated letters, often compared to those of Junius, were written by Lord Wellesley.