With Wellington in Spain: A Story of the Peninsula

  CHAPTER VII

  A Tight Corner

  "Now for our troops and the Peninsula," said Mr. Riley, settlinghimself in a corner of the old church and fixing his eyes for a fewmoments on the flaming and smoking torch which illuminated that part."Those peasants seem to have decided to leave us alone for to-night,so that we have the time between this and the morning to ourselves. Iimagine, too, that we may be congratulated; since it is easier for afew to defend a given place when they have daylight to help them. Ah,the sentry moves!"

  In the dim light cast by the torch they saw the trooper whom Tom hadstationed at the open doors of the place slowly rise to his feet andpeer out. A minute later they watched as he levelled his musket. Thenhe seemed to change his mind, for of a sudden he dropped the weaponsoftly to the ground and gripped his sabre. And there he remained, ina posture that showed preparedness, for all the world like a tigerready to spring. Nor was it long before he suddenly awoke to action;for there came a sound from outside the door, and a dull murmurechoed from the distance. Creeping silently towards him, Tom peeredthrough the doorway over his shoulder, and for a time saw nothing.Then, in the distance, he thought he could distinguish a dark massbetween himself and the village, while nearer at hand there were twofigures.

  "Going to try a surprise," he told himself. "They have sent two oftheir most daring spirits ahead, and will follow immediately."

  Promptly he crept away to warn the men, who by now were asleepfor the most part; and very quietly they mustered about the door,while those on guard at the various danger spots about the buildingretained their positions.

  "Gather about the door and pick up your spears," he warned the menin a whisper. "Leave the two who are creeping on to the sentry andAndrews."

  The stalwart rifleman had already taken his post beside the sentry,armed just as he was with a sabre, and there, like cats waiting topounce, they crouched. Peering out again over the carcass of thehorse, Tom saw two heads appear, and then three more immediatelybehind them. One of the peasants almost instantly leaped on to thecarcass, and was joined there within a second by a comrade. There wasa loud shout from one, as if to signal to the mass behind, and thenhe and his fellow leaped into the church, while others appeared justbehind the carcass of the horse.

  "On them!" shouted the gallant Andrews. "Cut them down! Back withthem!"

  He threw himself at the attackers, and the trooper with him. For aminute perhaps there was a fierce scuffle, and then the two retired,as their work was accomplished. Both the daring spirits who hadinvaded the church had paid the penalty of their rashness and laydead upon the floor. But the others were by no means disheartened. Itappeared that a dozen or more had crept forward, and with loud shoutsthey now rushed at the opening.

  "Keep them off with the spears. Don't fire unless you are compelled,"Tom ordered loudly. "We've shown them that we are ready for them, andthe less fuss we make about the matter the more they will fear us inthe future. Ah, here they come!"

  By now a surging crowd had arrived outside the church, and once morethe scene of a little time before was repeated. Muskets and ancientfirearms were discharged from every point, and in the most haphazardfashion. Indeed it may be said that in this respect the attackerswere as dangerous to one another as to the defenders of the church.A hundred frenzied creatures hurled themselves into the doorway,and for a while it looked as if they would sweep all before them.But those deadly spears, harmless though they looked on a casualinspection, did the work expected of them. Men were tossed back withjagged wounds in the chest. Others were felled with blows over thehead, while in many instances the attackers were pushed away by sheerstrength. Then, at a signal from Tom, four of the defenders joinedAndrews and the sentry, each armed with sabres, and fell furiouslyupon the mob. Shrieks filled the air; the maddened peasants droppedtheir weapons and endeavoured to grapple with the soldiers. They bitat the men and fought like fiends. Then some turned, pressing awayfrom the door, but only to be thrust forward again by the weightof those behind them. It was a startled cry from someone in thebackground which at length caused the mob to retire; a sudden panicseemed to seize them and in a little while they were racing pell mellfrom the building.

  "Now go back to your corners and sleep," said Tom. "We have taughtthem another lesson, and next time they will not be quite so bold.Let us have a look at these fellows."

  He took the torch and leaned over the two men who had been cut downby Andrews and the trooper. They were powerful fellows, armed withbillhooks and had their boots thickly wrapped with straw so as todeaden the sound of their coming.

  "Put them outside," he ordered, "and to-morrow, at the first streakof dawn, we will send out a party to remove the other bodies. Wemay be cooped up here for a week, and things would then becomeunpleasant. That reminds me; there's the question of food and water.Well, that must settle itself; we'll wait for morning."

  There was nothing else to be done; therefore, having posted hissentries, and cautioned them to be very watchful, Tom retired to thecorner in which he had left Mr. Riley and Jack.

  "A nice little skirmish, Tom," said the former. "By the time youjoin the army you'll have become a veteran. These little conflictsare all good practice, for if I am not mistaken the peasants willmake tremendous efforts when the day comes. But sit down. I'm eagerto tell my tale before another disturbance comes. Where was I?Oh, I remember! We were talking of the troops in the Peninsula.You understand that Napoleon's armies were massed at this timein both Portugal and Spain. Well, Wellington--then Sir ArthurWellesley--sailed from Cork in July, 1808, with some ten thousandmen, and landed near Oporto. An experienced general such as he was,one, too, fresh from conquests in India, was not likely to let thegrass grow beneath his feet, and almost at once he had a nice littleskirmish with the French at Brilos and at Rolica, causing Laborde,their commander, to withdraw.

  "He would have pushed on at once without a doubt, but informationnow reached him that General Anstruther had landed at Peniche, and,it being important to join hands with him, he left Laborde for themoment and marched to meet the new arrivals. Almost at once GeneralSir Harry Burrard appeared upon the scene, with orders from the Homeauthorities to take the chief command; for these authorities werefor ever changing their minds. You observe that they send Wellesleyto the Peninsula, a general with a great and recent reputation,and replace him within a few days by a second general, who, howeverskilled, had certainly not the experience of the brilliant officerfirst selected. At this time the British force was encamped atVimeiro, and a fierce engagement followed, forced upon our troopsby the French, and arising at that point where Wellesley's ownparticular command was located. He beat the French handsomely, aftera fierce engagement in which both sides fought most gallantly,and having done so, and received the congratulations of Sir HarryBurrard, Wellesley promptly found himself the third in commandinstead of the second; for Sir Hugh Dalrymple now arrived to takecommand of the invading force, thus displaying a further change ofpolicy on the part of the vacillating Ministry then in charge of ouraffairs.

  "And now we must switch off from the forces engaged in and aboutOporto," said Mr. Riley, hitching himself a little higher in hiscorner and crossing his legs for greater comfort. "We come to thedoings of Sir John Moore, a commander who won the esteem of Napoleonhimself, and whose memory will be ever honoured amongst the French.And just let me digress for a moment. It is perhaps a most suitableopportunity, too, for bringing the matter forward, seeing that weare here prisoners in a sense of the French, and yet, if I make nomistake, in command of them."

  He smiled quizzingly at Tom, and laughed aloud when the lattercoloured.

  "I--I couldn't well help it, sir," stuttered our hero, as if ashamedof his action. "You see, there we were in a hole, and----"

  Mr. Riley's laughter cut short the speech.

  "I was only poking fun, lad," he smiled. "We all bless you for yourgallant intervention. But let me mention this matter. It is anopportune moment, I say. I was speaking of Sir John Moore, and thehonour
the French had for him. Look at the position throughout. Lads,we are fighting gentlemen, that is the consensus of opinion amongstofficers and in the ranks. The French have fought us right gallantly.They at least are open enemies, but the Spaniards, for whose helpwe are here, disgust us. There are times, I hear, when our troopswish matters were different, and the Spaniards the real enemies, andsometimes the Portuguese also, for they pretend friendship, whileeverywhere there are traitors, everywhere men in authority amongstthem--nobles and others who form the Juntas or Parliaments whichgovern the countries now--who oppose the men who have come to freetheir countries in every possible way, who are mean and contemptiblein their dealings with them, whose policy changes from day to day andwho appear at times to act as if they wished the French to remainvictorious. There! I have had my growl. Napoleon is a great man, nodoubt, with dangerous ambitions, dangerous, that is to say, to thenations surrounding France. The French officers and men, I repeat,are gentlemen, with whom it is an honour to cross swords. Now letme get to the subject of Sir John Moore and his unlucky army ofpenetration."

  "And the retreat, which has become famous," said Jack, becomingserious for a moment.

  "Quite so, and very rightly too; for the retreat which followed theforward march of Sir John Moore's army was conducted in a manner thathas won the praise of all. He marched for Madrid on 18 October, withsome 30,000 infantry and 5000 cavalry, all wearing the red cockadeof Spain in their caps. And perhaps it will be well to tell you atthis point that the efforts of our troops elsewhere in the commandof Wellesley, or of the other generals whom the changing policy ofour British Ministers had sent to conduct affairs, had resulted in anagreement with the French, whereby Portugal was evacuated by theirforces and all strong places in that country given up to our men.

  "Having mentioned that, I can now explain that Sir John Moore's armywas to carry the war into Spain, and marching in the direction ofMadrid to combine with the Spaniards and attempt to oust the invadingarmies of Napoleon. On 13 November we hear of him at Salamanca; andnow we have an illustration of the weak and vacillating action ofthe Spanish Junta, combined with as equally blameworthy action onthe part of Mr. Frere, our ambassador in Spain. Where the greatestpains should have been taken to supply Sir John Moore with accurateinformation concerning the movements of the enemy, the utmostcarelessness seems to have been the order of the day. As a result,Sir John was in the dangerous dilemma of not knowing whether thecircumstances warranted his pushing on towards Madrid, or whether heought at once to begin a retreat towards the coast or into Portugal.It was not, in fact, till an evening in December, when already thewinter was upon him, that he had certain information that Napoleonhimself was massing all his troops, and that in cavalry alone heoutnumbered the British by 12,000. Such information set our troopsretreating rapidly by way of the Galician mountains, and hot inpursuit marched 255,000 men, with 50,000 horses, while a force of32,000 kept in rear and held the lines of communication.

  "To describe the many incidents of that memorable march would requirea length of time, and since we ought already to be asleep, preparingourselves for trouble to-morrow, I will merely sketch the eventswhich followed. For 250 miles our troops were harassed by the enemy'scavalry, and daily there were severe skirmishes between our rearguardand the French. Recollect that it was winter, and that the line ofretreat passed amongst the mountains, where our columns trudgedthrough valleys and over passes covered deep in snow. It is notdifficult to realize the terrible work this entailed, how the coldand exposure and constant need for exertion told on men and beasts.One can readily perceive that baggage animals broke down under thestrain, and that presently the army found itself compelled to carryits own provisions. Add to the difficulties of the cold and snowand the mountainous route the fact that a horde of non-combatantsaccompanied the army, servants, grooms, wives and children of thesoldiers, and one sees the possibilities of added difficulty andmisery. Soon men and women began to fall by the way, as had thehorses and mules. They lagged behind, wearied and utterly careless intheir misery of the consequences. Frozen and starved they lay downby the way, and soon the snow hid them. And always a cloud of Frenchhorsemen followed, seeking every opportunity to charge, and dashingin amongst the stragglers and helpless. No wonder that the armydwindled. No wonder that its numbers fell away till but a portionremained. But still the retreat proceeded, and ever the gallantrearguard held the French at bay.

  "On the last day of 1808 Moore quitted Astorga in Leon. On the verynext, the first day of 1809, Napoleon entered the same place with80,000 men, his advance guard of relentless cavalry being still intouch with our men. There the great Bonaparte remained, leaving thefinal work to the Duke of Dalmatia, and conceiving it certain thatthe whole British army would be exterminated. Well they might havebeen too, for here we have an example of what I have mentioned.Along the line of retreat, when the Spanish authorities could have,and should have, made full preparations to supply our troops andfollowers with rations and all that they required, they did nothingto help. Even food was not forthcoming, so that our desperate andhungry men were forced to pillage the inhabitants.

  "It is a sad tale, lads," said Mr. Riley after a pause, "but agallant tale also, for Sir John and his fine fellows at lengthreached Corunna, with but 14,000 all told, but with their cannon,their colours, and their trophies intact. In fact they came to thecoast covered with honour and renown, but starved and frost-bitten,and minus many and many a comrade. And there more fighting wasnecessary, for our fleet was not in sight. The battle of Corunnawhich followed ended in victory for us, but cost the lives of manygallant fellows, and of that of Sir John Moore amongst them. Thenour troops embarked, the fleet having arrived meanwhile, and asthey sailed away, there, above the citadel where Sir John and manya gallant comrade was buried, flew the flag of France, not at thesummit of the post, but half-masted, in respect for one who hadproved an able and a courageous leader. That, my lads, was anotherproof of the feelings of the enemy for us. If fight we must,Frenchmen at least have that generosity of feeling which allows themto pay honour to a brave enemy."

  The naval lieutenant sat back once more in his corner, his eyes fixedupon the flaming torch. Tom looked over at the sentry, standing alertand without a movement just behind the carcass of the horse. Andstraightway he wondered whether he would live to take part in such aretreat as that of Sir John Moore, and whether, should he be involvedin such an affair, he would conduct himself as became a Britishofficer. Then Mr. Riley's voice once more broke the silence.

  "We have heard of the opening events of this Peninsula War," hesaid. "Napoleon's invasion of Spain, and his placing of his brotherJoseph on the throne without the wish or consent of the people, hadresulted in some passages of arms between the French and Englishwhich must have opened the eyes of Bonaparte. But it did not deterhim. Following the embarkation of Sir John Moore's army, he orderedthe invasion of Portugal again, and in a little while Soult, a famousFrench marshal, held that country right down to the River Douro.

  "Once more I will sketch the events which followed. Wellesley, againin chief command, marched against the enemy, forced the passage ofthe Douro, in itself a most brilliant undertaking, and drove theFrench back into Spain. Following Marshal Soult, Wellesley crossedthe frontier in June, 1809, with but 20,000 British troops, though hehad some 57,000 Spanish and Portuguese soldiers to aid him, the greatmajority being merely irregulars. These latter were under variouscommanders, of whom I can call to memory at the moment Cuesta, theSpanish commander-in-chief, a useless person; Romana, Blake, andBeresford.

  "At this moment the French were disposed as follows: Victor, withsome 20,000 men, was on the Tagus. Sebastiani was in La Mancha witha force not quite so strong. Thousands were collected about Madrid,in Galicia, Leon, and Old Castille also, while there was a divisionof cavalry and 40,000 infantry stationed in Aragon and Catalonia.Their very numbers give you an idea of the almost impossible taskimposed upon our forces. Wellesley, in fact, having entered Spain andapproached Talavera, found himself
opposed to Marshal Victor, who hadKing Joseph in rear, with Marshal Sebastiani's corps to aid him.

  "We now arrive at the first battle of importance in the Peninsulacampaign. Talavera is a name which will be borne upon the coloursof many a regiment with lasting honour, for the fight was a fierceand desperate one, and our victory was won only after great losses.The battle itself was preceded by two engagements at least of someimportance, in one of which 10,000 Spanish troops distinguishedthemselves by fleeing before they had come to grips with the enemy.

  "Following Talavera, the smallness of our numbers and the utterfailure of the Spanish Junta to help with supplies and materialcaused Sir Arthur Wellesley to retire over the Tagus into Portugalonce more, where he went into winter quarters. But the movement hadthe consequences one would have anticipated. The French determinedupon another invasion of Portugal, when they hoped to drive theBritish from the country, and in 1810 they came in three columns,under the supreme command of Marshal Massena, with Junot, Ney, andRegnier as column commanders. Lord Wellington--for he had now beengranted that title as a reward for his conspicuous services--retiredin good order to the heights of Busaco, where a terrific conflictfollowed, the British troops successfully resisting the onslaughtof the French columns. Then, finding his flank turned, Wellingtonretired to the lines of Torres Vedras, lines which he had beensecretly fortifying, where he might, should the French come downupon him in overwhelming numbers, mass his men and still hold on toa portion of Portugal. There, in fact, he remained defying the enemyand covering Lisbon effectually.

  "Thus ended the year 1810, an eventful year in the history of thisPeninsula War, for it saw at its termination a thin line of Britishred opposed to masses of French troops who now held, not Spain alone,but even Portugal, right down to the heights of Torres Vedras,behind which Wellington and his men remained defiant, clinging tothat promontory on which is situated Lisbon. In fact they wereclinging tenaciously to the country, their fortunes seemingly ratherworse than they had been, though a huge advantage had been gained,inasmuch as Napoleon and his hosts had learned that a few Britishtroops skilfully handled were easily a match for them. Nor was itlikely that we would give up the conflict. The year 1811, the year inwhich we now are, began brilliantly. You may say that you are in themidst of renewed exertions on the part of that brilliant general wholeads us; while before us there is an immense work to be done. Lads,we have to regain Portugal before we think of ousting the Frenchfrom Spain, which will be a gigantic undertaking, with fighting inabundance."

  Jack and Tom pricked up their ears at the news. Indeed we may saythat the former had till now been filled with that vague fear whichcomes to the heart of many and many a soldier who is sent to join hisregiment at war. He wonders whether his own arrival will coincidewith the defeat of the enemy, whether he will arrive too late to takepart in the stirring events to which he had looked forward.

  "Then there'll be a chance," blurted out Jack, sitting up, and givinga sharp cry of pain, for in his eagerness he had forgotten his wound.

  "For you to teach Tom, and help him to become a general! Yes,"laughed the naval officer, "heaps!"

  "And you think, sir, that I shall be able to get a commission?" askedour hero, with some amount of misgiving.

  "I believe that if you manage to bring us out of this hole, andstill evade a French prison, you will be offered one promptly,"came the gratifying reply. "But let me complete my task. We enterupon this year of grace 1811. Let us look towards Badajoz, on theRiver Guadiana, south of the Tagus. Soult advanced in this directionto open up communications with Massena, who was massed with hisregiments on the Tagus. Wellington also advanced, and, leaving thestrong, fortified lines of Torres Vedras, crossed the Guadiana,leaving Beresford with some 7000 British troops, and a large numberof Portuguese, to invest Badajoz. Crossing the Tagus, Wellington nowmarched north towards Ciudad Rodrigo, whence Massena had taken histroops, and established himself between the Rivers Agueda and Coa,and within striking distance of Almeida, where was a force of theenemy. Massena advanced against him, and our troops at once tookposition on the heights of Fuentes d'Onoro, where a terrific battlewas fought, resulting in a victory for us. The French abandonedAlmeida, while Massena was recalled.

  "Now we turn south again to Badajoz, for the French had retiredto Salamanca, that is, the troops lately engaged with Wellington.Soult had been reinforced, and was well on his way to relieve theplace invested by Beresford, and, as a consequence, the latterwas forced to raise the siege, and though he could have retiredhe preferred to choose a ground for fighting and give battle. Hetook post at Albuera, knowing that Wellington was hastening to hishelp, his troops consisting of those 7000 British, and of Spaniardsand Portuguese, the former commanded by Blake, whose arrogance andjealousy hindered the commander not a little. It disgusts one tohave to record that many of these allies proved worse than uselesswhen in face of the enemy, and that but for the sturdy backbone ofBritish the battle would have been lost. It was, I am told, a mostconfused affair, made glorious by the tenacity and bull-dog courageof our men in face of terrible odds, and with the knowledge thatthose who should have aided them, and been in the forefront, wereoften skulking in the rear. The losses on both sides were huge, butthe battle ended in Soult retiring, while Beresford gathered togetherhis almost shattered forces as best he could, Blake, who should havehelped, even refusing him bearers for his wounded. Thereafter thesiege of Badajoz was once more entered upon, while one must mentiona brilliant little land cutting-out expedition, where, at Arroyo deMolinos, General Roland Hill broke up a force of the enemy underGirard, capturing men, guns, and baggage.

  "Barossa, too, is worthy of more than passing mention, for the battlewas hardly fought by our men. You must understand that troops hadbeen dispatched to Cadiz, where the Spaniards grudgingly gave thementry, and these sailed later on for Algeciras, where they effecteda landing. Then, with some 12,000 Spaniards, under La Pena, 4000of our men marched against Marshal Victor's forces. Here again wehave the same tale of Spanish treachery, jealousy, and cowardice.That movement ended in the British troops being left almost entirelyalone to withstand the onslaught of the French legions. Yet, inspite of that, Barossa, where our troops were, saw Victor's ranksshattered, and added one more to the many victories gained by ourgallant fellows in the Peninsula.

  "And now I come to the end of my tale. Owing to the junction of theenemy under Soult, and those divisions in the north, Wellingtonabandoned the siege of Badajoz, and advanced to the Tagus. Thence hecrossed in the direction of Ciudad Rodrigo, and once more took up aposition between the Coa and the Agueda, discovering the countrysideutterly swept by the French. The latest dispatches from the Peninsulahave told of burned villages, of ruined homesteads, of starving andinfuriated peasants. Detached parties of horse have ridden throughthe country, sweeping it clean as the French retired, and no doubtthese fine fellows with whom we occupy this church have formed oneof those parties. Bear in mind that they have merely obeyed orders.Because their countrymen have dealt severely with the Portuguese theymay not have done so; and, in any case, recollect that war is a cruelgame, and brings greater misery, perhaps, on non-combatants than uponthose whose profession it is to fight. There! Out with the torch.Let's go to sleep. Who knows? to-morrow will make a second Wellingtonof our friend Tom, or will see us--er----"

  Jack put on a nervous grin. Tom's handsome face assumed a sternexpression. He felt that it was not the time for joking, and, whatwas more, he felt that failure here would be a disgrace after themany brilliant battles of which Mr. Riley had been telling.

  "We'll pull out in the end, sir," he said with assurance. "What we'vedone already shall be done again. To-morrow--or is it to-day, for itis past midnight?--shall see these Portuguese fellows scuttling."

  The day, when it came, might bring about such a happy result. Butthen it might not. On the face of it, matters were desperate, forhere were a mere handful opposed to crowds--crowds, too, incensed andfilled with a dull and defiant hatred, which made success on the
irpart a certain death warrant for the defenders of the village church.