Part 5

We halted on the first night at a palace belonging to the Queen of Portugal, called Safrea, where we were joined by the Honourable Henry Cadogan, our Colonel. Next day, the 14th October, 1810, we joined the army at Sabral de Monte Agraco, a small town surrounded by hills. On the front is a hill, called by our men Windmill Hill, from a number of windmills which were upon it; in the rear, another they called Gallows Hill, from a gibbet standing there. We had not been three hours in the town, and were busy cooking, when the alarm sounded. There were nine British, and three Portuguese regiments in the town. We were all drawn up, and remained under arms, expecting every moment to receive the enemy, whose skirmishers covered Windmill Hill. In about an hour, the light companies of all the regiments were ordered out, alongst with the 71st. Colonel Cadogan called to us, at the foot of the hill, “My lads, this is the first affair I have ever been in with you; show me what you can do, now or never.” We gave a hurra, and advanced up the hill, driving their advanced skirmishers before us, until about half-way up, when we commenced a heavy fire, and were as hotly received. In the mean time, the remaining regiments evacuated the town. The enemy pressed so hard upon us, we were forced to make the best of our way down the hill, and were closely followed by the French, through the town, up Gallows Hill. We got behind a mud wall, and kept our ground in spite of their utmost efforts. Here we lay upon our arms all night. Next morning, by day-break, there was not a Frenchman to be seen. As soon as the sun was fairly up, we advanced into the town, and began a search for provisions, which were now become very scarce; and, to our great joy, found a large store-house full of dry fish, flour, rice, and sugar, besides bales of cloth. All now became bustle and mirth; fires were kindled, and every man became a cook. Scones[7] were the order of the day. Neither flour nor sugar were wanting, and the water was plenty; so I fell to bake myself a flour scone. Mine was mixed and laid upon the fire, and I, hungry enough, watching it. Though neither neat nor comely, I was anticipating the moment when it would be eatable. Scarce was it warm, ere the bugle sounded to arms. Then was the joy that reigned a moment before turned to execrations. I snatched my scone off the fire, raw as it was, put it into my haversack, and formed. We remained under arms until dark; and then took up our old quarters upon Gallows Hill, where I ate my raw scone, sweetly seasoned by hunger. In our advance to the town, we were much entertained by some of our men, who had got over a wall, the day before, when the enemy were in the rear, and now were put to their shifts to get over again, and scarce could make it out.

Next morning, the French advanced to a mud wall, about forty yards in front of the one we lay behind. It rained heavily this day, and there was very little firing. During the night, we received orders to cover the bugle and tartans of our bonnets with black crape, which had been served out to us during the day, and to put on our great-coats. Next morning, the French seeing us thus, thought we had retired, and left Portuguese to guard the heights. With dreadful shouts, they leaped over that wall before which they had stood, when guarded by British. We were scarce able to withstand their fury. To retreat was impossible; all behind being ploughed land, rendered deep by the rain. There was not a moment to hesitate. To it we fell pell-mell, French and British mixed together. It was a trial of strength in single combat; every man had his opponent, many had two. I got one up to the wall on the point of my bayonet. He was unhurt; I would have spared him, but he would not spare himself. He cursed and defied me, nor ceased to attack my life, until he fell, pierced by my bayonet; his breath died away in a curse and menace. This was the work of a moment: I was compelled to this extremity. I was again attacked, but my antagonist fell, pierced by a random shot. We soon forced them to retire over the wall, cursing their mistake. At this moment I stood gasping for breath, not a shoe on my feet; my bonnet had fallen to the ground. Unmindful of my situation, I followed the enemy over the wall. We pursued them about a mile, and then fell back to the scene of our struggle. It was covered with dead and wounded, bonnets and shoes trampled and stuck in the mud. I recovered a pair of shoes: whether they had been mine or not I cannot tell; they were good. Here I first got any plunder. A French soldier lay upon the ground dead; he had fallen backwards; his hat had fallen off his head, which was kept up by his knapsack. I struck the hat with my foot, and felt it rattle; seized it in a moment, and in the lining found a gold watch and silver crucifix. I kept them; as I had as good a right to them as any other. Yet they were not valuable in my estimation. At this time, life was held by so uncertain a tenure, and my comforts were so scanty, that I would have given the watch for a good meal and a dry shirt. There was not a dry stitch on my back at the time, nor for the next two days.

In a short time the French sent in a flag of truce, for leave to carry off their wounded, which was granted. They advanced to their old ground, and we lay looking at each other for three days, the two first of which the rain never ceased to pour; the third day was good and dry. During this time, the French withdrew their lines, and left only picquets. On the third day, an officer and twelve men went to the wall, as the French sentinels were become very remiss. He looked over, and saw a picquet of fifty men playing cards and amusing themselves. Our party levelled their muskets, and gave them a volley. They took to their heels, officers and all. There was no further attack made that day, and we retired behind the line batteries at night, quite worn out with hunger and fatigue. For five nights I had never been in bed, and, during a good part of that time, it had rained hard. We were upon ploughed land, which was rendered so soft, that we sunk over the shoes at every step. The manner in which I passed the night was thus: I placed my canteen upon the ground, put my knapsack above, and sat upon it, supporting my head upon my hands, my musket between my knees resting upon my shoulder, and my blanket over all--ready to start in a moment at the least alarm. The nights were chill: indeed, in the morning I was so stiff, I could not stand or move with ease for some time; my legs were benumbed to the knees. I was completely wet three nights out of the five. A great number of the men took the fever and ague, after we retired behind the lines. I was not a whit the worse.

On our arrival behind the lines, our brigade, consisting of the 50th, 71st, and 92d, commanded by Major-General Sir William Erskine, was quartered in a small village called Sabreira. Our first care was to place outposts and sentinels between the batteries, about twenty yards distant from each other. We communicated with the Foot Guards on our right, and the Brunswick infantry on our left. Those off duty were employed throwing up batteries and breast-works, or breaking up the roads. The day after we fell into the lines, the French placed sentinels in front of us without any dispute. There was a small valley and stream of water between us.

We remained thus for five weeks; every day, when off duty, forming defensive works, or breaking up the roads; it being a place that no army could pass, save upon the highway. The advanced picquet of the French lay in a windmill: ours, consisting of one captain, two subalterns, and 400 men, in a small village. There was only a distance of about 150 yards between us. We learned, from the deserters, that the French were much in want of provisions. To provoke them, our sentinels, at times, would fix a biscuit to the point of their bayonets, and present to them. One day the French had a bullock, in endeavouring to kill which their butcher missed his blow, and the animal ran off right into our lines. The French looked so foolish. We hurraed at them, secured the bullock, brought him in front, killed him in style. They looked on, but dared not approach to seize him. Shortly after an officer and four men came with a flag of truce, and supplicated, in the most humble manner, for the half of the bullock, which they got for godsake.

On the evening of the 14th November the French made their outposts stronger than they had yet been, and kindled great fires after dark. We were all under arms an hour before day, expecting to be attacked; but when the day dawned there was not a Frenchman to be seen. As soon as the sun was up, we set off after them. When we arrived at Sobral, we found a great number of our men, who had been wounded on the 14th and 15th October, besides a greater proportion of French wounded and sick. We were told by our men, that the weakly men, and the baggage of the French army, had been sent off eight days before. We were halted at Sobral until provisions came up; when three days allowance was served out to each man. We again commenced our advance. The weather was very bad. It rained for a great part of the time without intermission. On the fourth day we took about 100 prisoners, who had concealed themselves in a wood.

This retreat brought to my mind the Corunna race. We could not advance 100 yards without seeing dead soldiers of the enemy stretched upon the road, or at a little distance from it, who had lain down to die, unable to proceed through hunger and fatigue. We could not pity them, miserable as they were. Their retreat resembled more that of famished wolves than men. Murder and devastation marked their way; every house was a sepulchre, a cabin of horrors! Our soldiers used to wonder why the Frenchmen were not swept by heaven from the earth, when they witnessed their cruelties. In a small town called Safrea, I saw twelve dead bodies lying in one house upon the floor! Every house contained traces of their wanton barbarity. Often has a shade of doubt crossed my mind, when reading the accounts of former atrocities; often would I think--they are exaggerated--thank God we live in more civilized times. How dreadfully were my doubts removed. I cease to describe, least I raise doubts similar to my own.

At this time I got a distaste I could never overcome. A few of us went into a wine-store, where there was a large tun, with a ladder to get to the top, in which was a hole about two feet square. There was not much wine in it, so we buckled our canteen straps together, until a camp-kettle attached to them reached the liquor. We drew it up once,--we all drank: down it went again--it got entangled with something at the bottom of the tun--a candle was lowered;--to our great disappointment, the corpse of a French soldier lay upon the bottom! Sickness came upon me, and for a long time afterwards I shuddered at the sight of red wine. The Portuguese soldiers never would drink red wine, if white could be got. When I asked the reason, their reply was, they knew how it was made.

We continued our pursuit, every day taking more or less prisoners who were unable to keep up with the main army, until we came in front of Santarem. Here we piled arms upon the sandy ground: the French were in possession of the heights. Colonel Cadogan made the smartest of the men run races, in front, for rum. From this sport we were suddenly called to form line for attack: but the French position was too strong for us. By this time it was quite dark, and we had a large plain to cross, to a village where we were to halt all night. In our march we were put into confusion, and a good number of the men knocked over by a flock of goats, of which we caught a few, which made a delicious supper for us. On our arrival at the village we were forced to break up the doors, as the inhabitants would not let us in. Next morning was very wet. The following evening we halted at a village; but two Portuguese regiments had been before us, and swept all away. We sent out parties to forage, and got some Indian corn, which we ground, ourselves, at a mill; the inhabitants having all fled. We were then quartered in a convent in Alcanterina, where we lay from the beginning of December, until 5th March, 1811. Provisions were very scarce. Fatigue parties were sent out every day for Indian corn and pot herbs. We had beef, but we could not subsist upon beef alone, which was seldom good, being far driven, very tough, and lean. An accident procured us a short relief: some of our men, amusing themselves in piercing the ceiling with their bayonets, discovered a trap door, and found a great concealed store of food and valuables. We fared well while it lasted. Having very little duty, our time was spent at foot-ball. We were very badly off for shoes, but, by good luck, discovered a quantity of leather in a tan-yard. Those who found it helped themselves first, and were wasting it. The Colonel then ordered each man a pair of soles and heels, to be put up in his knapsack.

The French gave us the slip at the commencement of their retreat, by placing wooden guns in their batteries, and stuffing old clothes with straw, which they put in place of their sentinels. By this means their retreat was not discovered for two days; and only then, by one of our cavalry riding up to their lines, to take a sentinel prisoner who appeared asleep. As soon as it was ascertained there was a trick, we set off after them, and beginning to come up with them, took a good many prisoners. Our advance was so rapid, that provisions could not be brought up to us. We were often two days without bread. The rear of the army being always served first, we, who were in advance, seldom got enough. For four or five days we were so close up with the French, that we had skirmishes with them every day; but having received no bread for three days, we were forced to halt for two, until we got a supply. During these two days I had an opportunity of witnessing the desolation caused by the French soldiers. In one small village I counted seventeen dead bodies of men, women, and children; and most of the houses were burnt to the ground.

The Portuguese were not unrevenged of their destroyers, great numbers of whom had lain down unable to proceed, from wounds or fatigue, and had been either killed by the peasantry, or died, unheard, amongst the devastation themselves or their fellows had made.

At this time we were forced either to forage or starve, as we were far in advance of our supplies. I was now as much a soldier as any of my comrades, when it fell to my turn. At this time I was so fortunate as to procure the full of my haversack of Indian corn heads, which we used to call turkeys. I was welcomed with joy; we rubbed out some of our corn, and boiled it with a piece of beef; roasted some of our turkeys, and were happy. Bread, at length, coming up, we received three days allowance a-man, and recommenced our advance; but never came up with the enemy until they reached the Aguida, on the 9th April, 1811.

We were marched into winter quarters. Our division, the 2d, was posted in a small town called Alberguira, on the frontiers of Spain, where we remained till the 30th April. During our stay I had an adventure of a disagreeable kind. I was strolling, as usual, when I heard a voice; pleading in the most earnest manner, in great distress. I hastened to the spot, and found a Portuguese muleteer taking a bundle from a girl. I ran up to him and bade him desist: he flew into a passion, drew his knife, and made a stab at me. I knocked him down with my fist; the girl screamed and wept. I stood on my guard, and bade him throw away his knife. He rose, his eyes glistening with rage, and stabbed furiously at me. In vain I called to him: I drew my bayonet. I had no choice, yet, unwilling to kill, I held it by the point, and knocked him to the ground with the hilt as he rushed to close with me; left him there, and brought home the weeping girl to her parents.

On the 30th of April we set off for Fuentes de Honore, where we arrived, after a fatiguing march of three days, and formed line about two miles in rear of the town, hungry and weary, having had no bread for the last two days. On the 3d of May, at day-break, all the cavalry and sixteen light companies occupied the town. We stood under arms until three o’clock, when a staff-officer rode up to our Colonel, and gave orders for our advance. Colonel Cadogan put himself at our head, saying, “My lads, you have had no provision these two days; there is plenty in the hollow in front, let us down and divide it.” We advanced as quick as we could run, and met the light companies retreating as fast as they could. We continued to advance at double quick time, our firelocks at the trail, our bonnets in our hands. They called to us, “71st, you will come back quicker than you advance.” We soon came full in front of the enemy. The Colonel cries, “Here is food, my lads, cut away.” Thrice we waved our bonnets, and thrice we cheered; brought our firelocks to the charge, and forced them back through the town.

How different the duty of the French officers from ours. They, stimulating the men by their example; the men vociferating, each chafing each, until they appear in a fury, shouting to the points of our bayonets. After the first huzza the British officers, restraining their men, still as death. “Steady, lads, steady,” is all you hear, and that in an under tone.

The French had lost a great number of men in the streets. We pursued them about a mile out of the town, trampling over the dead and wounded; but their cavalry bore down upon us, and forced us back into the town, where we kept our ground in spite of their utmost efforts. In this affair my life was most wonderfully preserved. In forcing the French through the towns, during our first advance, a bayonet went through between my side and clothes to my knapsack, which stopped its progress. The Frenchman to whom the bayonet belonged, fell, pierced by a musket ball from my rear-rank man. Whilst freeing myself from the bayonet, a ball took off part of my right shoulder wing, and killed my rear rank man, who fell upon me. Narrow as this escape was, I felt no uneasiness, I was become so inured to danger and fatigue.

During this day the loss of men was great. In our retreat back to the town, when we halted to check the enemy, who bore hard upon us in their attempts to break our line, often was I obliged to stand with a foot upon each side of a wounded man, who wrung my soul with prayers I could not answer, and pierced my heart with his cries, to be lifted out of the way of the cavalry. While my heart bled for them, I have shaken them rudely off. We kept up our fire until long after dark. About one o’clock in the morning we got four ounces of bread served out to each man, which had been collected out of the haversacks of the Foot Guards. After the firing had ceased, we began to search through the town, and found plenty of flour, bacon, and sausages, on which we feasted heartily, and lay down in our blankets wearied to death. My shoulder was as black as a coal, from the recoil of my musket; for, this day, I had fired 107 round of ball-cartridge. Sore as I was, I slept as sound as a top, till I was awakened by the loud call of the bugle, an hour before day. Soon as it was light the firing commenced, and was kept up until about ten o’clock, when Lieutenant Stewart, of our regiment, was sent with a flag of truce, for leave to carry off our wounded from the enemy’s lines, which was granted, and at the same time they carried off theirs from ours. As soon as the wounded were all got in, many of whom had lain bleeding all night, many, both a day and a night, the French brought down a number of bands of music to a level piece of ground, about ninety or a hundred yards broad, that lay between us. They continued to play until sunset, whilst the men were dancing and diverting themselves at foot-ball. We were busy cooking the remainder of our sausages, bacon, and flour. After dark, a deserter from the French told us, that there were five regiments of grenadiers picked out to storm the town. In the French army, the grenadiers are all in regiments by themselves. We lay down, fully accoutred, as usual, and slept in our blankets. An hour before day we were ready to receive the enemy. About half-past nine o’clock, a great gun from the French line, which was answered by one from ours, was the signal to engage. Down they came, shouting as usual. We kept them at bay in spite of their cries and formidable looks. How different their appearance from ours! their hats set round with feathers, their beards long and black, gave them a fierce look; their stature was superior to ours. Most of us were young. We looked like boys,--they like savages! but we had the true spirit in us. We foiled them in every attempt to take the town, until about eleven o’clock, when we were overpowered and forced through the streets, contesting every inch. A French dragoon, who was dealing death around, forced his way up to near where I stood; every moment I expected to be cut down. My piece was empty; there was not a moment to lose; I got a stab at him beneath the ribs, upwards; he gave a back stroke before he fell, and cut the stock of my musket in two: thus I stood unarmed. I soon got another, and fell to work again. During the preceding night we had been reinforced by the 79th regiment, Colonel Cameron commanding, who was killed about this time. Notwithstanding all our efforts the enemy forced us out of the town, and then halted and formed close column betwixt us and it. While they stood thus, the havoc amongst them was dreadful. Gap after gap was made by our cannon, and as quickly filled up. Our loss was not so severe, as we stood in open files. While we stood thus firing at each other, as quick as we could, the 88th regiment advanced from the lines, charged the enemy, and forced them to give way. As we passed over the ground where they had stood, it lay two and three deep of dead and wounded. While we drove them before us through the town, in turn, they were reinforced, which only served to increase the slaughter. We forced them out and kept possession all day. After sunset, the enemy sent in a flag of truce, for leave to carry off their wounded and bury their dead, which was granted. About ten o’clock, we were relieved, and retired back to our lines. In these affairs we lost four officers, and two taken prisoners, besides 400 men killed and wounded. This statement, more than any words of mine, will give an idea of the action at Fuentes de Honore. On my arrival in the lines, when unpacking my knapsack, I found a ball had pierced into the centre of if, and dimpled the back of my shoebrush. We remained seven days in the lines, the French showing themselves three or four times a-day. On the 7th, they retired, and we went back to our old quarters in Alberguira.