Chapter V: Stern Scenes

The sufferings of the retreat steadily increased. The weather grew more bitter, the country more difficult, the supply of food scantier. Under the strain of incessant marching, the strength of the men gave way. All were ragged and hungry; many were bare-footed; many were sick, racked with coughs, shaken with ague, or burning with fever. Their discipline seemed to go to pieces. Nothing survived but a spirit of dogged, sullen courage that seized, with a thrill of something like fierce delight, every opportunity of turning on their relentless pursuers:--

"The shoes and boots of our party were now mostly either destroyed
or useless to us, from foul roads and long miles, and many of the
men were entirely bare-footed, with knapsacks and accoutrements
altogether in a dilapidated state. The officers were also, for the
most part, in as miserable a plight. They were pallid, wayworn,
their feet bleeding, and their faces overgrown with beards of many
days' growth. What a contrast did our corps display, even at this
period of the retreat, to my remembrance of them on the morning their
dashing appearance captivated my fancy in Ireland! Many of the poor
fellows, now near sinking with fatigue, reeled as if in a state of
drunkenness, and altogether I thought we looked the ghosts of our
former selves; still we held on resolutely. Our officers behaved
nobly, and Craufurd was not to be daunted by long miles, fatigue,
or foul weather. Many a man in that retreat caught courage from his
stern eye and gallant bearing. Indeed, I do not think the world ever
saw a more perfect soldier than General Craufurd.

"As the day began to dawn, we passed through another village--a long,
straggling place. The houses were all closed at this early hour, and
the inhabitants mostly buried in sleep, and, I dare say, unconscious
of the armed thousands who were pouring through their silent streets.
When about a couple of miles from this village, Craufurd again halted
us for about a quarter of an hour. It appeared to me that, with
returning daylight, he wished to have a good look at us this morning,
for he mingled amongst the men as we stood leaning upon our rifles,
gazing earnestly in our faces as he passed, in order to judge of our
plight by our countenances. He himself appeared anxious, but full
of fire and spirit, occasionally giving directions to the different
officers, and then speaking words of encouragement to the men. It is
my pride now to remember that General Craufurd seldom omitted a word
in passing to myself. On this occasion, he stopped in the midst and
addressed a few words to me, and, glancing down at my feet, observed--

"'What! no shoes, Harris, I see, eh?'

"'None, sir,' I replied; 'they have been gone many days back.' He
smiled, and passing on spoke to another man, and so on through the
whole body.

"Craufurd was, I remember, terribly severe during this retreat, if he
caught anything like pilfering amongst the men. As we stood, however,
during this short halt, a very tempting turnip field was close on the
side of us, and several of the men were so ravenous, that although
he was in our very ranks, they stepped into the field and helped
themselves to the turnips, devouring them like famishing wolves. He
either did not or would not observe the delinquency this time, and
soon afterwards gave the word and we moved on once more.

"About this period I remember another sight, which I shall not to
my dying day forget; and it causes me a sore heart even now as I
remember it. Soon after our halt beside the turnip field the screams
of a child near me caught my ear, and drew my attention to one
of our women, who was endeavouring to drag along a little boy of
about seven or eight years of age. The poor child was apparently
completely exhausted, and his legs falling under him. The mother had
occasionally, up to this time, been assisted by some of the men,
taking it in turn to help the little fellow on; but now all further
appeal was in vain. No man had more strength than was necessary for
the support of his own carcass, and the mother could no longer raise
the child in her arms, as her reeling pace too plainly showed. Still,
however, she continued to drag the child along with her. It was a
pitiable sight, and wonderful to behold the efforts the poor woman
made to keep the boy amongst us. At last the little fellow had not
even strength to cry, but, with mouth wide open, stumbled onwards,
until both sank down to rise no more. The poor woman herself had, for
some time, looked a moving corpse, and when the shades of evening
came down, they were far behind amongst the dead or dying in the
road."

Hunger and desperation sometimes tempted even the veterans of the Rifles to leave the ranks in the hope of discovering, in some fold of the lonely Asturian hills, a shepherd's hut, or a little farmhouse, where food might be got at and an hour's shelter enjoyed. Harris describes one such adventure undertaken by himself:--

"Towards evening we came to a part of the country of a yet wilder and
more desolate appearance even than that we had already traversed; a
dreary wilderness it appeared at this inclement season, and our men,
spite of the vigilance of the general, seemed many of them resolved
to stray into the open country rather than traverse the road before
them. The coming night favoured their designs, and many were before
morning lost to us through their own wilfulness. Amongst others I
found myself completely bewildered and lost upon the heath, and
should doubtless have perished had I not fallen in with another of
our corps in the same situation. As soon as we recognised each other
I found my companion in adversity was a strapping resolute fellow
named James Brooks, a north of Ireland man. He was afterwards killed
at Toulouse. He was delighted at having met with me, and we resolved
not to desert each other during the night. Brooks, as I have said,
was a strong, active, and resolute fellow, as indeed I had on more
occasions than one witnessed in Portugal. At the present time his
strength was useful to both of us.

"'Catch hold of my jacket, Harris,' said he; 'the ground here is
soft, and we must help each other to-night or we shall be lost in the
bogs.'

"Before long that which Brooks feared happened, and he found himself
stuck so fast in the morass that although I used my best efforts to
draw him out I only shared in the same disaster, so that, leaving
him, I turned and endeavoured to save my own life if possible,
calling to him to follow before he sank over head and ears. This was
an unlucky chance in our wearied state, as the more we floundered
in the dark, not knowing which way to gain a firmer foundation, the
faster we fixed ourselves. Poor Brooks was so disheartened that he
actually blubbered like a child. At length, during a pause in our
exertions, I thought I heard something like the bark of a dog come
down the wind. I bade Brooks listen, and we both distinctly heard
it--the sound gave us new hope just as we were about to abandon
ourselves to our fate. I advised Brooks to lay himself as flat as
he could and drag himself out of the slough, as I had found some
hard tufts of grass in the direction I tried; and so, by degrees,
we gained a firmer footing, and eventually succeeded in extricating
ourselves, though in such an exhausted state that for some time we
lay helplessly upon the ground unable to proceed.

"At length, with great caution, we ventured to move forwards in the
direction of the sounds we had just heard. We found, however, that
our situation was still very perilous, for in the darkness we hardly
dared to move a step in any direction without probing the ground with
our rifles, lest we should again sink and be eventually smothered
in the morasses we had strayed amongst. On a sudden, however, as we
carefully felt our way, we heard voices shouting in the distance, and
calling out 'Men lost! men lost!' which we immediately concluded were
the cries of some of our own people who were situated like ourselves.

"After a while I thought I saw, far away, something like a dancing
light, which seemed to flicker about, vanish, and reappear, similar
to a Jack-o'-lantern. I pointed it out to Brooks, and we agreed
to alter our course and move towards it. As we did so the light
seemed to approach us and grow larger. Presently another and another
appeared, like small twinkling stars, till they looked something like
the lamps upon one of our London bridges as seen from afar. The sight
revived our spirits, more especially as we could now distinctly hear
the shouts of people who appeared in search of the stragglers, and as
they approached us we perceived that such was indeed the case. The
lights, we now discovered, were furnished by bundles of straw and
dried twigs tied on the ends of long poles and dipped in tar. They
were borne in the hands of several Spanish peasants, from a village
near at hand, whom Craufurd had thus sent to our rescue.

"To return to my own adventures on this night. When Brooks and
myself reached the village I have mentioned we found it filled with
soldiers, standing and lying huddled together like cattle in a fair.
A most extraordinary sight it appeared as the torches of the peasants
flashed upon the wayworn and gaunt figures of our army. The rain was
coming down, too, on this night, I remember; and soon after I reached
our corps I fell helplessly to the ground in a miserable plight.
Brooks was himself greatly exhausted, but he behaved nobly, and
remained beside me, trying to persuade some of our men to assist him
in lifting me up, and gaining shelter in one of the houses at hand.
'May I be ----!' I heard him say, 'if I leave Harris to be butchered
in the streets by the cowardly Spaniards the moment our division
leaves the town.'

"At length Brooks succeeded in getting a man to help him, and
together they supported me into the passage of a house, where I lay
upon the floor for some time. After a while, by the help of some wine
they procured, I rallied and sat up, till eventually I got once more
upon my legs, and, arm in arm, we proceeded again into the streets
and joined our corps. Poor Brooks certainly saved my life that night.
He was one of the many good fellows whom I have seen out, and I
often think of him with feelings of gratitude as I sit at my work in
Richmond Street, Soho."

There were certainly not many men, even in Craufurd's rearguard, stronger in body or hardier in temper than Harris, yet at last even his iron strength and dauntless energy failed him. He began to lag behind, making occasional and desperate rallies to keep up with his battalion. He says:--

"I remember Sir Dudley Hill passing me on a mule this day. He wore a
Spanish straw hat and had his cloak on. He looked back when he had
passed, and addressed me: 'Harris,' said he, 'I see you cannot keep
up.' He appeared sorry for me, for he knew me well. 'You must do your
best,' he said, 'my man, and keep with us, or you will fall into the
hands of the enemy.' As the day wore on I grew weaker and weaker, and
at last, in spite of all my efforts, I saw the main body leave me
hopelessly in the lurch. Brooks himself was getting weaker too; he
saw it was of little use to urge me on, and at length, assenting to
my repeated request to be left behind, he hurried on as well as he
was able without a word of farewell. I now soon sank down in the road
and lay beside another man who had also fallen and was apparently
dead, and whom I recognised as one of our sergeants.

"Whilst we lay exhausted in the road the rearguard, which was now
endeavouring to drive on the stragglers, approached, and a sergeant
of the Rifles came up and stopped to look at us. He addressed himself
to me, and ordered me to rise; but I told him it was useless for him
to trouble himself about me as I was unable to move a step farther.
Whilst he was urging me to endeavour to rise up, the officer in
command of the rearguard also stepped up. The name of this officer
was Lieutenant Cox; he was a brave and good man, and observing that
the sergeant was rough in his language and manner towards me, he
silenced him and bade the guard proceed and leave me. 'Let him die
quietly, Hicks,' he said to the sergeant. 'I know him well; he's not
the man to lie here if he could get on. I am sorry, Harris,' he said,
'to see you reduced to this, for I fear there is no help to be had
now.' He then moved on after his men, and left me to my fate.

"After lying still for a while, I felt somewhat restored and sat up
to look about me. The sight was by no means cheering. On the road
behind me I saw men, women, mules, and horses lying at intervals,
both dead and dying; whilst far away in front I could just discern
the enfeebled army crawling out of sight, the women[4] huddled
together in its rear, trying their best to get forward amongst those
of the sick soldiery, who were now unable to keep up with the main
body. After a while I found that my companion, the sergeant, who lay
beside me, had also recovered a little, and I tried to cheer him up.
I told him that opposite to where we were lying there was a lane,
down which we might possibly find some place of shelter if we could
muster strength to explore it. The sergeant consented to make the
effort, but after two or three attempts to rise, gave it up. I myself
was more fortunate; with the aid of my rifle I got upon my legs,
and seeing death in my companion's face, I resolved to try and save
myself, since it was quite evident to me that I could render him no
assistance.

"After hobbling some distance down the lane, to my great joy I espied
a small hut or cabin with a little garden in its front; I therefore
opened the small door of the hovel, and was about to enter when I
considered that most likely I should be immediately knocked on the
head by the inmates if I did so. The rain, I remember, was coming
down in torrents at this time, and, reflecting that to remain outside
was but to die, I resolved at all events to try my luck within. I
had not much strength left, but I resolved to sell myself as dearly
as I could. I therefore brought up my rifle and stepped across the
threshold. As soon as I had done so I observed an old woman seated
beside a small fire upon the hearth. She turned her head as I
entered, and immediately upon seeing a strange soldier, she arose and
filled the hovel with her screams. As I drew back within the doorway
an elderly man, followed by two, who were apparently his sons, rushed
from a room in the interior. They immediately approached me; but
I brought up my rifle again and cocked it, bidding them keep their
distance.

"After I had thus brought them to a parley I got together what little
Spanish I was master of, and begged for shelter for the night and a
morsel of food, at the same time lifting my feet and displaying them
a mass of bleeding sores. It was not, however, till they had held a
tolerably long conversation among themselves that they consented to
afford me shelter, and then only upon the condition that I left by
daylight on the following morning. I accepted the conditions with
joy. Had they refused me I should indeed not have been here to tell
the tale. Knowing the treachery of the Spanish character, I however
refused to relinquish possession of my rifle, and my right hand was
ready in an instant to unsheath my bayonet, as they sat and stared at
me whilst I devoured the food they offered.

"All they gave me was some coarse black bread, and a pitcher of sour
wine. It was, however, acceptable to a half-famished man; and I felt
greatly revived by it. Whilst I supped, the old hag, who sat close
beside the hearth, stirred up the embers, that they might have a
better view of their guest, and the party meanwhile overwhelmed me
with questions, which I could neither comprehend nor had strength to
answer. I soon made signs to them that I was unable to maintain the
conversation, and begged of them, as well as I could, to show me some
place where I might lay my wearied limbs till dawn.

"Notwithstanding the weariness which pervaded my whole body, I was
unable for some time to sleep except by fitful snatches, such was
the fear I entertained of having my throat cut by the savage-looking
wretches still seated before the fire. Besides which, the place they
had permitted me to crawl into was more like an oven than anything
else, and being merely a sort of berth scooped out of the wall, was
so filled with fleas and other vermin, that I was stung and tormented
most miserably all night long.

"Bad as they had been, however, I felt somewhat restored by my
lodging and supper, and with the dawn I crawled out of my lair, left
the hut; retraced my steps along the lane, and once more emerged upon
the high-road, where I found my companion, the sergeant, dead, and
lying where I had left him the night before.

"I now made the best of my way along the road in the direction
in which I had last seen our army retreating the night before. A
solitary individual, I seemed left behind amongst those who had
perished. It was still raining, I remember, on this morning, and the
very dead looked comfortless in their last sleep as I passed them
occasionally lying on the line of march. It had pleased Heaven to
give me an iron constitution, or I must have failed, I think, on this
day, for the solitary journey and the miserable spectacles I beheld
rather damped my spirits.

"After progressing some miles, I came up with a cluster of poor
devils who were still alive, but apparently, both men and women,
unable to proceed. They were sitting huddled together in the road,
their heads drooping forward, and apparently patiently awaiting their
end.

"Soon after passing these unfortunates, I overtook a party who
were being urged forward under charge of an officer of the 42nd
Highlanders. He was pushing them along pretty much as a drover would
keep together a tired flock of sheep. They presented a curious
example of a retreating force. Many of them had thrown away their
weapons, and were linked together arm-in-arm, in order to support
each other, like a party of drunkards. They were, I saw, composed of
various regiments; many were bareheaded and without shoes, and some
with their heads tied up in old rags and fragments of handkerchiefs.
I marched in company with this party for some time, but as I felt
after my night's lodging and refreshment in better condition, I
ventured to push forward, in the hope of rejoining the main body, and
which I once more came up with in the street of a village.

"On falling in with the Rifles, I again found Brooks, who was
surprised at seeing me still alive, and we both entered a house, and
begged for something to drink. I remember that I had a shirt upon
my back at this time, which I had purchased of a drummer of the 9th
Regiment before the commencement of the retreat. It was the only good
one I had. I stripped, with the assistance of Brooks, and took it
off, and exchanged it with a Spanish woman for a loaf of bread, which
Brooks, myself, and two other men, shared amongst us.

"I remember to have again remarked Craufurd at this period of the
retreat. He was in no whit altered in his desire to keep the force
together, I thought; but, still active and vigilant as ever, he
seemed to keep his eye upon those who were now most likely to hold
out. I myself marched during many hours close beside him this day.
He looked stern and pale, but the very picture of a warrior. I shall
never forget Craufurd if I live to a hundred years, I think. He was
in everything a soldier.

"Slowly and dejectedly crawled our army along. Their spirit of
endurance was now considerably worn out, and, judging from my own
sensations, I felt confident that, if the sea was much farther from
us, we must be content to come to a halt at last without gaining
it. I felt something like the approach of death as I proceeded--a
sort of horror, mixed up with my sense of illness; a reeling I have
never experienced before or since. Still I held on; but with all my
efforts, the main body again left me behind. Had the enemy's cavalry
come up at this time I think they would have had little else to do
but ride us down without striking a blow."

At last the great retreat, with its horrors and sufferings, drew to a close. The sea was reached, and not even Xenophon's Ten Thousand, as they caught from some hill summit the purple gleam of the far-off sea, knew a keener delight than did Craufurd's bare-footed, famine-wasted veterans. Says Harris:--

"It is astonishing how man clings to life. I am certain that had
I lain down at this period, I should have found my last billet on
the spot I sank upon. Suddenly I heard a shout in front, which was
prolonged in a sort of hubbub. Even the stragglers whom I saw dotting
the road in front of me seemed to have caught at something like
hope; and as the poor fellows now reached the top of a hill we were
ascending, I heard an occasional exclamation of joy--the first note
of the sort I had heard for many days. When I reached the top of the
hill the thing spoke for itself. There, far away in our front, the
English shipping lay in sight.

"Its view had indeed acted like a restorative to our force, and the
men, at the prospect of a termination to the march, had plucked up
spirit for a last effort. Fellows who, like myself, seemed to have
hardly strength in their legs to creep up the ascent, seemed now to
have picked up a fresh pair to get down with. Such is hope to us poor
mortals!

"As we proceeded down the hill we now met with the first symptoms
of the good feeling from the inhabitants it was our fortune to
experience during our retreat. A number of old women stood on either
side of the road, and occasionally handed us fragments of bread as
we passed them. It was on this day, and whilst I looked anxiously
upon the English shipping in the distance, that I first began to find
my eyesight failing, and it appeared to me that I was fast growing
blind. The thought was alarming, and I made desperate efforts to get
on. Bell, however, won the race this time. He was a very athletic and
strong-built fellow, and left me far behind, so that I believe at
that time I was the very last of the retreating force that reached
the beach, though, doubtless, many stragglers came dropping up after
the ships had sailed, and were left behind.

"As it was, when I did manage to gain the seashore, it was only by
the aid of my rifle that I could stand, and my eyes were now so dim
and heavy that with difficulty I made out a boat, which seemed the
last that had put off.

"Fearful of being left half blind in the lurch, I took off my cap,
and placed it on the muzzle of my rifle as a signal, for I was
totally unable to call out. Luckily, Lieutenant Cox, who was aboard
the boat, saw me and ordered the men to return, and making one more
effort I walked into the water, and a sailor, stretching his body
over the gunwale, seized me as if I had been an infant and hauled
me on board. His words were characteristic of the English sailor, I
thought.

"'Hullo, there, you lazy lubber!' he said, as he grasped hold of me,
'who the ---- do you think is to stay hum-bugging all day for such a
fellow as you?'"

Here is Harris's description of how, after a stormy passage, the transports reached the English coast, and the wrecks of Moore's gallant battalions were allowed to land:--

"After remaining off Spithead for about five or six days, one fine
morning we received orders to disembark, and our poor bare feet once
more touched English ground. The inhabitants flocked down to the
beach to see us as we did so, and they must have been a good deal
surprised at the spectacle we presented. Our beards were long and
ragged; almost all were without shoes and stockings; many had their
clothes and accoutrements in fragments, with their heads swathed in
old rags, and our weapons were covered with rust; whilst not a few
had now from toil and fatigue become quite blind.

"Let not the reader, however, think that even now we were to be
despised as soldiers. Long marches, inclement weather, and want of
food had done their work upon us; but we were perhaps better than
we appeared, as the sequel showed. Under the gallant Craufurd we had
made some tremendous marches, and even galled our enemies severely,
making good our retreat by the way of Vigo. But our comrades in
adversity, and who had retired by the other road to Corunna, under
General Moore, turned to bay there, and showed the enemy that the
English soldier is not to be beaten even under the most adverse
circumstances.

"The field of death and slaughter, the march, the bivouac, and the
retreat, are no bad places in which to judge of men. I have had
some opportunities of judging them in all these situations, and I
should say that the British are amongst the most splendid soldiers in
the world. Give them fair-play, and they are unconquerable. For my
own part, I can only say that I enjoyed life more whilst on active
service than I have ever done since; and as I sit at my work in my
shop in Richmond Street, Soho, I look back upon that portion of my
time spent in the fields of the Peninsula as the only part worthy of
remembrance. It is at such times that scenes long past come back upon
my mind as if they had taken place but yesterday. I remember even the
very appearance of some of the regiments engaged; and comrades, long
mouldered to dust, I see again performing the acts of heroes."

Harris gives a bit of dreadful arithmetic, which shows the losses sustained in the retreat:--

"After the disastrous retreat to Corunna, the Rifles were reduced
to a sickly skeleton, if I may so term it. Out of perhaps nine
hundred of as active and fine fellows as ever held a weapon in the
field of an enemy's country, we paraded some three hundred weak and
crestfallen invalids.

"I myself stood the third man in my own company, which was reduced
from near a hundred men to but three. Indeed, I think we had scarce
a company on parade stronger than ten or twelve men at the first
parade. After a few parades, however, our companies gradually were
augmented by those of the sick who recovered, but many of those who
did not sink in hospital were never more of much service as soldiers."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 4: Some of these poor wretches cut a ludicrous figure, having the men's greatcoats buttoned over their heads, whilst their clothing, being extremely ragged and scanty, their naked legs were very conspicuous. They looked a tribe of travelling beggars.]