Part 13
Pass numerous villages, and at three leagues encounter the first Portilia, where the road goes over a high mountain, which is sometimes impassable, and at this time bad and dangerous, not so much on account of the quantity of snow, but because the road, undermined by the run of waters in a thaw, becomes like the worst of rabbit warrens. And besides this, the beaten path is so narrow that two mules meeting could not keep it, and the one that leaves it flounders half buried in the snow. Pass the other Portilia, not in so bad a state, at six leagues, and reach Villarviejo, on the other side, at seven leagues. The general and busy run of waters, as if to their appointed stations, calls forcibly to my mind the description given by Milton of the assemblage of waters at the great command to let dry land appear.
Scenery wild and very high.
Get put up at the curé’s house, which stinks excessively.
While cooking in the kitchen the whole family assembled round the fire, pop on their knees as the curé rises, and say the Rosary aloud. “Santa Maria! Madre de Dios!” is chimed out at the beginning of almost every prayer.
Foster and I sleep in the same room with the curé, who blows like a whale.
_January 7._--Start for Monterey. Excessive, heavy, and continued rain. Overtake Colonel Peacock, in charge of £130,000, about four leagues from Verin, which is at bottom, while Monterey is at top, almost adjoining. Converse a good deal with him. Arrive at Verin completely drenched.
These two days’ journeys, though each called seven leagues, are at the lowest calculation eight.
About a league from Verin we are on a hill commanding a complete view of it and the Valdi mountains, most beautiful and romantic, a fine winding stream with green meads, and in the midst villages, woods, groves, pastures, houses, gardens--the garden of Eden.
Find Mr. Murray at Verin. Consult. He has learned that the army was at Lugo on the 5th, on which same day the English entered Orense. It is therefore doubtful whether or no the English will be found there when we arrive, the distance being ten leagues.
Get billets on an apothecary and go to bed. Much disturbed. Knocked up. Sick and ill, and what rest soever my illness allowed was snatched away by voracious and innumerable jumpers that bit me in all directions, and where they did not bite they ran and hopped about my feverish body.
_January 8, Sunday._
Because I dare not touch them for my life, Enticing grapes and honey were produced, And when my parched palate prompts my hand, My qualmish stomach sends its veto up. Baboon-faced John projects my certain cure, And gives me burnt bread sopped in scalding wine. I go to the Corregidor, and there Find Murray’s information is confirmed. I write to Colonel Peacock, and resolve To take the shortest road to Vigo Bay, Passing the Minho, by a ferry boat.... Engage a mounted guide, and disfatigue Our weary bodies with two hours’ repose. Then, rising in the dark of night, we go And wonder how the practised guide can find The labyrinthine way, how he can tell The rocks and waters manifold (from snow Just thawed, and pushing for the lowest place) With such sure step to evitate at night.
At last a little village we descry, and thunder at a cottage door, but, alas! the inhabitants of this cottage persist in a death-like silence and a dread repose. Thus we remain, we know not where, in a very cold night. At length the guide goes to another house by himself, and gets a Galician with straw torches, which are very pretty and convenient.
The road is very dreary and unpleasant, and still three leagues to Villadita. On arriving we get a woman to show us the way to the Corregidor’s. It was three o’clock in the morning. Corregidor looks out of his window and says with a loud voice, “Alguacil.”[24] The old Alguacil leads to one and another, but we make him give us a smart-looking house with windows to it. The mistress makes a rail, but first the maid comes to the balcony and says, “Good morning, gentlemen.” “A curse, you ugly witch,” says Bernardo, “is this a time for the compliments of the morning?” When we get into this house it is so mouldy, forlorn, and faded fine that, late as it is, we try another, where we find a man in bed in every nook and corner. Get very comfortably lodged, and find that we are only nine leagues from Vigo.
_January 9, Monday._--Get a most excellent breakfast, and, notwithstanding my increasing malady, I venture to swallow a quart of rich new milk, which I have not tasted for a long time.
The people come and bother and say, “Behold here are two dear Englishmen that don’t know what good news we have for them. The English, pursued by the French, have headed round at Betanzos and driven the French before them sixteen leagues, and orders are come to halt the troops at Orense that were going to Vigo.”
Although I did not think this account entitled to credit, coming from the Spaniards, who give and take lies with greater assurance and credulity than any other people, I thought that I might so far trust it as to the intelligence which respected Orense, only two and a half leagues distant; and they said the ferry across the Minho was not always passable.
Not feeling safe in the hands of the precarious, headlong Spaniards, I was rather anxious to get to a British column, as the circumstances of the evacuation would not be much longer in spreading, and who could tell the impression it might create.
[A break occurs here in the Journal, but we know that Captain Boothby was now on his way to join Sir John Moore at Corunna _via_ Vigo Bay, and the next tidings we hear from him occur in the letters to his father and brother after the battle of Corunna.]
* * * * *
ON BOARD THE “BARFLEUR,” _Jan. 18, 1809_.
MY EVER DEAREST FATHER--I am very anxious that you should have a line from me as soon as you will hear of the action of the 16th, the result of which, had it not deprived us of Sir John Moore, would have been everything that could be wished. He was killed by a cannon shot early in the action, which tore away his shoulder. He, however, lived till nine o’clock, being perfectly collected, sensible, and great to the last.
The French in attacking us had at last complied with his most earnest wishes, and the battle had the effect which he foresaw, that of ensuring to us an unmolested and complete embarkation, which took place the night of the action and yesterday, the French contenting themselves with throwing a few shot among the shipping, which, operating on the fears of the masters, caused two or three transports to be lost. Otherwise it had the beneficial effect of getting the fleet under way most expeditiously.
The action was very obstinate and warm, and lasted three hours. It is the first I have been in. Our loss in killed and wounded, particularly in officers, has been very severe, considering the number of troops exposed to fire, which was not more than half the army.
I have no more time, as the bag is closed. God bless you,
CHARLES.
* * * * *
AT SEA, 1809.
MY DEAR B.--As my daily adventures just now would be rather disagreeable than interesting, I shall give you some account of the latter operations in Spain. As much as I can vouch for will be included in a relation of my own movements.
When the army arrived at Astorga, Sir John Moore sent me to La Puebla, the capital of Sanabria, a mountainous district in the kingdom of Leon bordering on Portugal. The place is in the direct but worst road from Benavente to Orense, and as it had been determined that a column should take a better though longer road to Vigo, the object of my mission chiefly was to give immediate intelligence to Sir John Moore should the enemy show any disposition (by taking the shorter route from Benavente or elsewhere to Orense) to cut off the retreat of the column marching on Vigo.
I was apprised of the time when our army would reach the different stages of its retreat, that I might judge where to rejoin it, having executed the service for which I was detached. Being satisfied on this head, I set out for Orense, making long journeys and sometimes travelling by night, the roads very bad and mountainous, rendered almost impassable by snow, but the scenery in many parts extremely beautiful and romantic, particularly in the neighbourhood of Monterey, an old mountain castle of, I believe, no military importance.
From the intelligence I procured at Verin, immediately below it, I thought it better to avoid Orense and proceed to Vigo by the shortest road, crossing the river Minho (over which there is a bridge at Orense) by a ferry.
The Minho at this place is a very rapid, turbid stream, carrying down with great velocity huge timbers and fragments torn by the waters from the mountain sides, or hurled from their tops by the fury of the winter blasts. The scenery is extremely rich and beautiful, having an inexpressible charm viewed from the stupendous heights, immediately impending the river, over which the road winds.
The rugged steepness of the roads greatly lengthens the leagues, and the journeys, which one laid down from the experience of other parts of Spain, are obliged to be most teasingly divided in Galicia, particularly irksome to me on account of the uncertainty there was of the light in which our retreat would be viewed by the barbarous, arrogant, and ignorant, though not ungenerous, Spaniards, for few of the most enlightened would be capable of exculpating me in any cause of anger they might imagine against my country. Having performed a hundred miles of this journey, I unexpectedly fell in with the column that marched upon Vigo, and having communicated with General Alton, I was confirmed in my determination to proceed to Vigo, as all communication between him and the main body of the army had for some time ceased. As it appeared that the enemy had not got scent of this small column, and there was not the smallest probability of anything interesting taking place at the embarkation at Vigo, it became a very earnest object with me to reach Corunna, where it did not seem likely that affairs would have so insipid a complexion. I was therefore very well pleased to find that my friend Burgoyne had been sent to Vigo, and was to wait there until the embarkation was effected. At this time it was pretty confidently believed at headquarters that I had fallen into the hands of the enemy. This left me fully at liberty to proceed with the transports to Corunna, and Sir Samuel Hood, whom I had formerly known in the Baltic, was so kind as to offer me a passage in the _Barfleur_. It would be needless to describe the anxiety I felt respecting what might be the state of affairs at Corunna, where I was sensible that the army must have been some days. I supposed and hoped that some natural advantages would enable them to repel for so long a time the forces of France, but this might not be the case, and when we arrived that beautiful army might be no more. I got into the harbour in the _Minerva_ frigate on the evening of the 14th January. I went immediately to Sir John Moore, who received me most kindly, and notwithstanding the cruel anxiety he must have suffered, still supported that most engaging exterior so endearing to his friends and so prepossessing to strangers on whom he did not think proper to frown. I then sought out my friends and brother officers, and was greeted by them as one risen from the dead. I, too, felt inexpressible pleasure at getting again amongst my companions, and in feeling satisfied by the tranquillity at Corunna that things were not going on badly; to find my friend Lefebure, too, one of the party, and almost reestablished in health (for owing to excessive anxiety and fatigue in his attendance on the army of Blake, he was attacked and nearly carried to the grave by a fever) gave me the highest pleasure.
He spread a mattress for me on the floor, and I slept as undisturbed as if the French had not passed the Pyrenees. I found that the whole effective forces of the British occupied a position about three miles from the walls of Corunna, which they had held since the 12th, and where they had hutted themselves. This position in a military point of view was very bad, for it was immediately opposed to one of greatly superior strength and elevation, which ground the British, being the defensive and smaller force, could not possess, their object being to contract the front presented to the enemy, who had the power to attack with unlimited numbers. They were therefore obliged to relinquish the commanding ground to the enemy, and to make up by their superior firmness and courage the great defects of their position.
I know not if you understand plan drawing well enough to be assisted by a small hasty outline. The position of the British was bad because commanded by that of the enemy, but more especially because the right was liable to be turned--ⴲ. The hill itself, G, was very well against assault, because the side was very much intersected by steep banks and fences which, defended by our troops, could not be carried. The sketch I have given you is on the first impression of memory, and without the wish to be accurate, just to help you by a spilt-port-wine drawing to the sort of thing. The fortification of Corunna (xxx) was infinitely better than any entrenchment thrown up occasionally. It was much improved and strengthened by us, and though its being fatally commanded, without bomb proof, and many other faults and disadvantages, natural and incurred, would prevent its pretending to withstand a regular siege, yet as a barrier against assault for a certain time it was as good as could be; 1500 men might stand behind it and defy 20,000. Nothing, therefore, could be better to cover the tail of an embarkation. The outer position was maintained that the fleet might not be molested, which it might have been, for instance, from St. Lucia, etc., that the first business of the embarkation might be neither looked into nor molested, and that the tranquillity of the town might be as long as possible preserved. And now, after this explanation, I shall continue my narrative.
On the morning of the 15th, after breakfast, upon hearing some popping and that the enemy were making some demonstration, I borrowed Lefebure’s horse (having left both my own at Vigo) and rode to the English position.
The enemy were thrusting out their sharpshooters in all directions, a species of warfare or battle which they understand the best. Ours, however, were not backward, and gave them at least shot for shot. A distant cannonade was soon after commenced on both sides, the French firing at our groups of officers, and indeed at individuals, for I was honoured twice in this way, and my friend Lefebure’s horse had a narrow escape. They then made a parade of their force and several movements on their heights as if they meant something, but merely meaning, I fancy, to know if we still held our ground and with what force. Sir John Moore was out all day, and I followed in his suite over our whole position. He spoke to all officers as he went along, giving cautions, orders, and instructions, and looked wistfully at the enemy, apparently wishing with painful eagerness for a battle. Those who suppose these wishes were excited by any thought of his own fame, do not know Sir John Moore. He wrote to Sir S. Hood that he was anxious for an engagement, because he thought it would be the only means of securing an unmolested embarkation. The sharpshooting and cannonading continued throughout the day, but the number of killed and wounded on our side was inconsiderable, and probably was no greater on that of the enemy.
On the morning of the 16th no skirmishing was heard from the outposts, and everything wore the face of an understanding on the part of the enemy that it was now their business to fight us. As long as we remained embattled upon our position we thought it was not their business, and feared they waited a more favourable opportunity, which must soon be afforded them. For Sir John Moore was determined, much as he wished to give them a check, not to wait any longer, for every day, while it added to their strength, brought with it the chance of a foul wind, which could not be too much dreaded if it lasted long enough to drive us into the town, and to give time to the French to establish batteries on the margin of the harbour for the destruction of the fleet.
At one o’clock I was charged with the erection of a battery in the town and some other works on the ramparts. At about three o’clock we heard the firing begin, sharpshooting first, and then more general, and so much cannonade as convinced me it must be more serious than on the preceding day. Nothing I could say or do could prevail upon the soldiers to lay aside the air of the last extremity of fatigue which they had assumed. The shovel of earth approached the top of the bank as leisurely as the finger of a clock marches round the dial. I was therefore a good deal struck with admiration at their behaviour when at four o’clock an order came for them to join their regiments, which were marching to the field. They threw down their tools, jumped to their arms, hallooed and frisked as boys do when loosed from school, these poor, tattered, half-dead-looking devils. I was no less pleased to be left at liberty. An Engineer has no appropriate place or defined duty in an open battle, but he is always acceptable in the field if mounted, because he is generally a good sensible smart fellow that looks about him, and is trustworthy in the communication and explanations of orders.
What we generally do, therefore, is to offer our several services as aides-de-camp to the several generals whom we may pitch upon or fall in with; and had I been mounted I should have gone straight to General Moore upon finding myself at liberty. But now a horse was my first object. The firing rather increased than slackened. I had never been present at a general action, and I wished painfully for a horse. Thinks I, “I’ll walk towards the scene of things, and I may meet a horse that has lost his master.” I went a little way and overtook a gunner with a saddle on his back.
“What are you going to do with that?” said I.
“I am taking it to St. Lucia,” said he.
“What for?”
“It is there that all the artillery horses are.”
“Oh, ho!” A thought struck me, and I followed him. When I arrived I went straight to an officer of gunner drivers and explained to him my situation. The obliging fellow instantly ordered a horse to be saddled, to my great delight. I asked him, “What news from the field?” “General Baird is killed,” said he. I galloped off, and on my way up I overtook an artillery officer, who told me General Moore was dangerously wounded. I know not how it was, but I certainly galloped on with much less count of personal danger. The enemy had so placed two guns that the overshots invariably came whizzing down the road. As they passed one another I leaned on one side, and thought each destined for my head.
The object of my search now was General Hope. I spied a clump of officers standing just behind the two lines engaged. From the situation they had taken up I thought this group most likely to be General Hope and his suite, so I hastened to it, and was not disappointed. He was looking very attentively at the two uninterrupted lines of fire though he said hardly anything, just sent an order in a quiet way now and then, and whenever the fire immediately before him seemed to slacken, he appeared instinctively to potter down to some place where hotter firing was. I was very glad to find myself so little disturbed by the whizzing of balls. The fire was very hot, and several men and horses of our group were struck, but I was thinking more of the novel sight before me, and glorying in the brave obstinacy of our people, who after so furious and long-continued and unabated an attack still refused to yield one inch to the column after column, relieving each other, that assailed them.
When first indeed I reached General Hope’s party, I looked up at a clear part of the sky and silently begged of God that should a ball this day despatch me, He would forgive me my sins and take me to heaven, and after that I felt finely settled and elevated and indifferent to the event, while the cheering and volleying of our soldiers warmed my heart.
As it was growing dusk a roar of musketry was volleyed on the left, followed by a roar of huzzas quite as loud. General Hope asked, “What’s that?” “The 59th coming up fresh, sir.”
Colonel Graham came up and told him (the firing had almost ceased) that the enemy still possessed a village which was thought too near to us, and asked if it should be taken. General Hope desired that some companies of the 15th might take it, and soon after an officer came up and announced the capture. The firing had totally ceased. General Hope rode round the position, and then went to Corunna to make such arrangements as might be required. We got to the town about eight o’clock. I rode to Sir John Moore’s quarters, and going upstairs met Colonel Graham. He told me Sir John was lying on his mattress dying, that he heard him groan. Perhaps had I gone in, pressed his hand, and got a kind word from him, it would have been a source of pleasure to me now, but then I had no stomach for it. His shoulder and part of his left side were carried away by cannon shot. His great good spirit left his body at nine o’clock.
General Hope’s letter[25] is as accurate and chastely true as it is simple, elevated, and beautiful; so great a degree of accuracy one would scarcely have expected, or thought compatible with the elegance of the language, the smoothness and entireness of the narrative. I advise you, if you have forgotten it, or did not know that it was something _more_ than a beautiful piece of writing, to read it again.
Our obstinate battle, the coming in of our wounded, and the melancholy death of our chief had a very great effect upon the feelings of the people of Corunna. “This is for us! this is for us! Poor English, they bleed for us!”
This sort of thing soon worked itself into a transport of generous enthusiasm, which was both beneficial and satisfactory to us.
At about four o’clock on the morning of the 17th, when my companions and I got up, we found that nearly all the army was embarked. The wind was beginning to blow very hard, which made the embarkation very difficult, but, thank God, it blew the right way. On the 16th Sir John Moore had desired Fletcher, chief engineer, to name the number of men he thought necessary to occupy the town line, and to furnish a minute distribution of them upon the different works.
This Fletcher did, and I went round with him and General Beresford (who was entrusted with the forlorn hope), that Fletcher might explain the distribution to him.