When war’s alarms are heard, the soldier reckons only upon short repose; and after remaining a few weeks on the coast, the regiment to which I belonged was ordered into winter quarters. While stationed there, we had the misfortune to lose two of our officers, both of whom sank into an untimely grave. One of them fell a victim to the pernicious practice of duelling, and the other was drowned by incautiously venturing beyond his depth while bathing. During the time we remained in the neighbourhood the unceasing kindness of the inhabitants was remarked by us all. In the spring of the ensuing year we were ordered to Colchester, in the vicinity of which several regiments were quartered ready for active service, and expecting daily orders to embark for the continent. The anticipated directions from London, so impatiently desired, arrived in the autumn of 1808. We were ordered instantly to prepare for foreign service; and never, I verily believe, was an invitation to a feast more readily obeyed. The regiment mustered in full strength, the men were in excellent condition; a brief and hearty farewell was all we could spare for friends at home, and in an incredibly short period we were afloat at Harwich, from whence we sailed to Falmouth to await the arrival of other transports. In the course of a few days the squadron had assembled, and immediately made sail. We soon found that our destination was Corunna, in the north of Spain. The discovery led to a variety of conjecture, and speculation was busy in marking out the nature of our future service. The general opinion was, that we should not suffer from idleness. Eager for the fray, nothing was coveted save a clear stage and no favour; victory was reckoned on as a matter of course, and as to the hardships and disasters of a hostile or contested land, every inch of which was to be fought for, the idea had no existence, or was dismissed as a trifle. Happy ignorance of the future! where prescience itself, unless true wisdom had been added, could only have depressed the mind. I am happy on reflecting that during the whole of our march not a man was missing: no one slinked, and in the future conduct of the 43rd, no one, that I ever heard of, deserted his colours or disgraced his country; but out of the many hundred of gallant fellows that then composed our honourable corps, how few were destined to see their native land again!

Our voyage was remarkably pleasant, and we landed at the desired haven without danger or loss. The harbour of Corunna is spacious and safe, and the town is defended by batteries and guns mounted at all points. The citadel is also strongly fortified, but both are commanded by heights within a short distance. Within the houses of the inhabitants there is little to suit the taste of an Englishman. The weather when I was there, though cold and chilly, seldom produced the sociable sight of a cheerful fire within doors; indeed, I never observed so much as a hearth or stove in which to kindle one. The superstitious contrarieties and absurdities of papacy have here an unmolested reign. While holidays were observed with punctilious scruples, for which no sound reason could be urged, the Sabbath, though guarded by Scriptural injunction, was violated with impunity. The churches are well built, but the altar-pieces are disfigured by a profusion of tinsel and ornament. The Virgin Mary is frequently exhibited in a figure some three feet high, dressed in laced clothing; the saints also keep her company, some being placed in niches of the building, and others enclosed in cases of glass, with care proportioned, perhaps, to the merit assigned to each by their capricious and fanciful worshippers.

Without in the least entering into political detail connected with the causes and result of the memorable Peninsular campaign, which is not within my present design, it may be enough to state, that the expedition in which I had sailed was planned by the British government to act in concert with several simultaneous movements in favour of the Spanish constitutionalists, then contending with their French invaders. Our arrival in October, 1808, proved to be a momentous crisis; a few weeks previously Buonaparte had entered Spain, and taken the command of the hostile army, with the avowed purpose of driving the English into the sea. He advanced, as usual, by marches prodigiously rapid on Madrid, so that at the end of November his advanced guard reached the important pass of Somosierra. This pass was defended by 13,000 Spaniards, with sixteen pieces of cannon. They were attacked by the French under the Duke of Belluno, and after a vigorous resistance entirely defeated. On the 2nd of December Buonaparte arrived in the vicinity of Madrid, and in three days from that period was master of that capital. Dispirited and overwhelmed as the Spanish generally were by the presence of the hero of Jena and Austerlitz, it was evident they were unable, unless assisted by foreign allies, to resist the advances of such masses of troops as those now within their dominions. British co-operation was therefore sought and obtained. Its value and the fidelity of the army it employed had already been proved in Portugal, where, with a force decidedly inferior, the invaders were repulsed at Vimiera, with unusual loss.

As a temporary residence at Corunna we had been placed in a long, uncomfortable building, formerly used as a factory or rope-walk. On the following day marching orders were received, when the entire division was put into motion; and leaving the coast, our route lay through Lugo, Villa Franca, and Benevente. After halting for a short time, we crossed the Esla, and arrived at Sahagan, where we were ordered to remain. The light corps occupied an extensive convent built on each side of a square, in whose immense galleries several thousand infantry were accommodated; a numerous body of monks, with other persons of similar sanctity, notwithstanding our heretical exterior, had also taken refuge under the same roof. On leaving the convent, we advanced in close order for several miles; when, from the superior force of the enemy, it was judged advisable to retreat. A countermarch by sections was ordered, and just before midnight we had fallen back upon the line of our former route. Here we were directed to lighten our knapsacks as much as possible, and divest ourselves of every needless encumbrance.

Meantime the advanced guard of Buonaparte’s army had broken up from Tordesillas, and strong detachments of cavalry had been pushed forward to Majorga. On the 26th Lord Paget fell in with one of these parties at the latter place; his lordship directly ordered Colonel Leigh, with two squadrons of the 10th Hussars, to attack this corps, which had halted on the summit of a steep hill. On approaching the top, where the ground was rugged, the colonel judiciously reined in to refresh the horses, though exposed to a severe fire. When he had nearly gained the summit, and the horses had recovered their breath, he charged boldly, and overthrew the enemy, many of whom were killed and wounded, and above a hundred made prisoners. The brigade o£ which our regiment formed part was under the command of General Crauford. Just before, or nearly at the moment of our arrival on the banks of the river Esla, the principal part of the British forces under Sir John Moore were rapidly passing; the stores were conveyed by Spanish mules. We were in the rear, and the enemy pressed forward with such impetuosity, that the chasseurs of the Imperial Guard were frequently in sight, and, unable perhaps to do more, captured some women and baggage.

Exposed as we were to the assault of a vigilant and superior foe, not a moment’s repose could be obtained; and it has seldom happened that personal courage has been put to a severer test. Permit me to recite an instance: John Walton, an Irishman, and Richard Jackson, an Englishman, were posted in a hollow road on the plain beyond the bridge, and at a distance from their piquet. If the enemy approached, one was to fire, run back to the brow of the hill, and give notice if there were many or few; the other was to maintain his ground. A party of cavalry, following a hay-cart, stole up close to these men, and suddenly galloped in, with a view to kill them and surprise the fort. Jackson fired, but was overtaken, and received twelve or fourteen severe wounds in an instant; he came staggering on, notwithstanding his mangled state, and gave the signal. Walton, with equal resolution and more success, defended himself with his bayonet, and wounded several of the assailants, who retreated, leaving him unhurt; but his cap, his knapsack, his belt, and his musket were cut in above twenty places, and his bayonet was bent nearly double, his musket covered with blood, and notched like a saw from the muzzle to the lock. Jackson escaped death in his retreat, and finally recovered of his wounds.

On the 27th, the cavalry being all over the river, preparations were made to destroy the bridge: torrents of rain and snow were descending. The cavalry scouts of the enemy were abroad, and a large party, following the store-wagon, endeavoured to pass the piquet, and gallop down to the bridge. The design was perceived and defeated. Smart skirmishing was kept up all that day; but the masonry of the bridge was so solid, that midnight had arrived before the arches could be materially injured. We then descended the heights on the left bank, and passing with the greatest silence by single files over planks laid across the broken arches, gained the other side without loss: an instance of singular preservation, as the night was dark and tempestuous, and the enemy almost within hearing. The mine was almost immediately after sprung with good effect,—I mean the bridge was ruined; while we marched forward to Benevente, where the cavalry and the reserve still remained. Here we re-entered the convent which had given us protection on a former occasion.

During the brief stay made here we experienced a remarkable escape from imminent danger. The lower corridors of the building were filled with the horses of the cavalry and artillery, so thickly stowed that it was scarcely possible for a single man to pass them, and there was but one entrance. Two officers returning from the bridge, being desirous to find shelter for their men, entered the convent, and with terror perceived that a large window-shutter was on fire. The flame was spreading to the rafter above; in a few moments the straw under the horses would ignite, and six thousand men and animals be involved in inevitable ruin. One of the officers (Captain Lloyd, of the 43rd), a man of great activity, strength, and presence of mind, made a sign to his companions to keep silence, and springing upon the nearest horse, ran along the backs of the others until he reached the flaming shutter, which he tore off its hinges and threw out of the window; then returning quickly, he awakened some of the soldiers, and cleared the passage without creating any alarm, which in such a case would have been as destructive as the flames. I scarcely need add that Captain Lloyd was a man of more than ordinary talent.

The town of Benevente, a rich, open place, is remarkable for a small but curious Moorish palace or castle, containing a fine collection of ancient armour, and is situated on an extensive plain, that, extending from the Gallician mountains to the neighbourhood of Burgos, appeared to be boundless. Here the army rested two days; but as little could be done to remove the stores, the greater part were destroyed, of which I was a reluctant eye-witness. I am sorry to say, that during this sojourn the fine discipline of our corps, thus far maintained without a flaw, was sadly broken down. Some circumstances may be urged in mitigation of the fault, though, looking at that eventful crisis, nothing can altogether extenuate the excesses into which numbers of the troops descended. Exhausted as they were with privation and fatigue, it is no wonder that they were eager in search of repose and refreshment. Unfortunately, one of the first objects of attention was an extensive range of vaults, in which pipes of wine were deposited. In such haste were the half-famished men to quench their thirst, that shots were fired at the heads of the casks, which sent them in altogether, so that the choice and heady liquor ran in all directions, and was ankle-deep on the pavement; besides which, and this was the most serious part of the calamity at such a moment, the men, regardless of the potent and intoxicating beverage, drank it like water. The result need not be told; and I have often thought it was a special mercy that at such a juncture the services of the men were not required. Had the enemy approached, no one could have averted the fate of the aggressors. Unable either to fight or fly, they must have fallen into hostile hands in all the disgrace of impotent inebriety. It has often been to myself a source of satisfaction, that on the occasion referred to I was preserved from the excesses described. Not that I can take credit for possessing at the time any extraordinary measure either of virtuous principle or religious light; yet I was not without a strong sense of duty. The good advices of my mother were frequently uppermost; and many a time, when hard pressed by hunger and perilous service, my mind was supported by a persuasion that my mother was praying for my preservation.

From the temporary mischief alluded to we soon recovered. Sobriety marshalled our ranks as heretofore, and on the 29th the brigade quitted Benevente, but the cavalry remained in the town, leaving parties to watch the fords of the Esla. Soon after day-break, General Lefebre Desnouettes, seeing only a few cavalry posts on the great plain, rather hastily concluded that there was nothing to support them, and crossing the river at a ford a little way above the bridge, with six hundred horsemen of the Imperial Guards, he advanced into the plain. The piquets at first retired fighting; but being joined by a part of the 3rd German Hussars, they charged the leading French squadron with some effect. General C. Stewart then took the command, and the ground was obstinately disputed. At this moment the plain was covered with stragglers and baggage-mules and followers of the army; the town was filled with tumult; the distant piquets and videttes were seen galloping in from the right and left; the French were pressing forward boldly, and every appearance indicated that the enemy’s whole army was come up, and passing the river. Lord Paget ordered the 10th Hussars to mount and form under the cover of some houses at the edge of the town; he desired to draw the enemy, whose real situation he saw at once, well into the plain before he attacked. In half an hour, everything being ready, he gave the signal; the 10th Hussars galloped forward, the piquets that were already engaged closed together, and the whole charged. In an instant the scene changed, the enemy was seen flying at full speed towards the river, and the British close at their heels. The French squadron, without breaking their ranks, plunged into the stream, and gained the opposite heights, where, like experienced soldiers, they wheeled instantly, and seemed inclined to come forward a second time; but a battery of six guns being opened upon them, after a few rounds, they retired. During the pursuit in the plain, an officer was observed separating from the main body, and making towards another part of the river; being followed, and refusing to stop when overtaken, he was cut across the head, and brought in a prisoner. He proved to be General Lefebre. In this spirited action the French left fifty-five killed and wounded on the field, and seventy prisoners, besides the general and other officers. The British loss was also severe.

Rencontres of this sort had their value, as they served to curb the audacity of the enemy, and furnished a seasonable sample of what might be expected in the event of a general battle. Meantime the tide of superior force, against whose overpowering number it was physically impossible to present an effective check, came rolling on in waves of gathering might. Napoleon had arrived at Valderas, Ney at Villator, and Lapisse at Touro. The French troops were worn down with fatigue, yet the emperor still urged them forward. He flattered himself, and wished to persuade others, that he should intercept the retreat of the English at Astorga; but the destruction of the bridge of Castro Gonzalo had been so complete, that twenty-four hours were required to repair it, and the fords were now impassable. After all, the emperor, with whom it was never safe to trifle, was near the accomplishment of his design; for scarcely had the rear of the British army quitted Astorga, when advanced parties of French soldiery appeared in view.

Upon the 1st of January, 1809, the Emperor Napoleon took possession of Astorga. On that day seventy thousand French infantry, ten thousand cavalry, and two hundred pieces of artillery, after many days of incessant marching, were thus united. The assemblage of this mighty force, while it evinced the energy of the French monarch attested also the genius of the English general, who, with a handful of men, had found means to arrest the course of the conqueror, and to draw him, with the flower of his army, to this remote and unimportant part of the Peninsula, at the moment when Portugal, and the fairest provinces of Spain, were prostrate before him. That Sir John Moore intercepted the blow which was then descending on Spain no man of honesty can deny; for what troops were there in the south to have resisted even for an instant the progress of a man, who in ten days, and in the depth of winter, crossing the snowy ridge of the Carpentinos, had traversed two hundred miles of hostile country, and transported fifty thousand men from Madrid to Astorga in a shorter time than a Spanish diligence would have taken to travel the same distance? This stupendous march was rendered fruitless by the quickness of the adversary; but Napoleon, though he had failed to destroy the English army, resolved nevertheless to drive it from the Peninsula; and being himself recalled to France by tidings that the Austrian storm was ready to burst, he fixed upon the Duke of Dalmatia to continue the pursuit, adding, for this purpose, three divisions of cavalry and three of infantry to his command. This formidable pursuing force was separated into three divisions, and entrusted to the command of Laborde, Heudelet, and Loison; so that after leaving a considerable corps in reserve in the Montagna de St. Andre, nearly sixty thousand men and ninety-one guns were put on the track of the English army.

About this period of the retreat an affair took place in the rear which excited the admiration of all who heard it, and has seldom been exceeded for cool and determined valour under circumstances the most disadvantageous. So rapid were the advances of the British troops on their route to Corunna, that none but men of athletic mould and vigorous health could keep in column. As an unavoidable result, many of the weaker men, and some that had been overtaken by sickness, were at some distance behind. The number of stragglers thus compelled to fall out was nearly five hundred. They were placed under the direction of Sergeant William Newman, no other officer being present. In addition to the personal ailments of these poor fellows, they were little more than half clothed, and many of them barefooted, so that but for their muskets, which they knew how to handle, they exhibited an appearance altogether pitiable and defenceless. Shortly after the army had quitted the village of Betanzos, an alarm was given that the French cavalry was approaching, when the men were instantly thrown into confusion by an eager but fruitless endeavour to overtake the British forces. In this exigence, Sergeant Newman pushed on a little way to a narrow part of the road. He there managed to hasten on the most feeble of the detachment, and detained about a hundred of the best men, whom he ordered to face about and contest the passage. This was promptly done, and with complete success. The little corps of invalids, consisting of soldiers from different regiments, withstood and repelled repeated attacks of the French horsemen. The sergeant then gave orders to retire, and when again pressed, reformed as before, and again repulsed the enemy. In this spirited manner they covered the retreat of their helpless comrades for four miles, when they were relieved from their perilous situation by the rearguard of the British cavalry. It is pleasing to add, that the intrepid sergeant who led this spirited movement was promoted to an ensigncy in the 1st West India regiment; besides which, by way of putting him in gentlemanly trim, a gift was added of fifty pounds sterling.

Thus Sir John Moore was pressed in his retreat with fury that seemed to increase every moment. The separation of the light brigade already alluded to, a measure which he adopted by advice of the quarter-master-general, weakened the army by three thousand men. Fifteen days; only had elapsed since Sir John Moore had left Salamanca; and already the torrent of war, diverted from the south, was foaming among the rocks of Gallicia. Nineteen thousand British troops, if posted on strong ground, might have offered battle to very superior numbers; but where was the use of merely fighting an enemy who had three hundred thousand men in Spain? Sir John Moore felt the impolicy and rashness of such an attempt; his resolution therefore was, to fall down to the coast, and embark with as little loss and delay as might be. Vigo, Corunna, and Ferrol were the principal harbours, and their relative advantage could be determined only by the reports of the engineers, none of which had yet been received, so rapidly did the crisis of affairs come on.

It will be imagined by every person, civil or military, that the mind of a commander, though of the firmest texture, in the situation of Sir John Moore, must have been severely exercised; and during this stage of the retreat the unavoidable difficulties of the army were inflamed by the unhappy intemperance of several who ought to have known and acted better. On arriving at Bembibre, the immense wine vaults established there exhibited such temptations, that hundreds of the men, unable to exert themselves, or even to stand, were unavoidably left behind. That refreshment was needed, no one can doubt; but it is more difficult to be temperate than abstemious; the first healthful draught led to many an inordinate one. Confusion worse confounded was the necessary result. There was an heterogeneous mass of marauders, drunkards, muleteers, women, and children; the weather was dreadful; and, notwithstanding the utmost exertions of the superior officers, when the reserve marched next morning the number of these unfortunate persons was not diminished. Leaving a small guard to protect this bacchanalian crew, Sir John Moore proceeded to Calcabellos; and scarcely had the reserve marched out of the village, when some French cavalry appeared. In a moment the road was filled with the miserable stragglers, who came crowding after the troops, some with loud shrieks of distress, others with brutal exclamations. Many, overcome with fear, threw away their arms. Many more who preserved theirs were so stupidly intoxicated that they were unable to fire; and kept reeling to and fro, insensible both to their danger and disgrace. The enemy’s horsemen perceiving this confusion bore down at a gallop, broke through the disorderly mob, cutting to the right and left as they passed, and riding so close to the columns, that the infantry were forced to halt in order to check their forwardness.

Nothing, in the nature of things, can be more mischievous, though it endure only for a day, or even half that time, than such a violation of discipline as that recorded. It not only tends to produce discouragement in the ranks of well-ordered troops, whose resolution, founded on mutual support, is by such means sadly assailed, but so far as it is observed, and it can seldom be concealed, it gives proportionate confidence to the enemy, of which, on this very occasion, there was almost instantaneous proof. On the 3rd of January, 1809, just after mid-day, the French general, Colbert, approached with six or eight squadrons; but observing the ground behind Calcabellos strongly occupied, he demanded reinforcements. Marshal Soult, believing the English did not mean to make a stand, sent orders to Colbert to charge without delay. The latter, stung by the message, which he thought conveyed an imputation on his courage, obeyed with precipitate fury. The riflemen had withdrawn when the French first came in sight, and were just passing the bridge when a crowd of staff officers, the cavalry, and the enemy, came in upon them in one mass. In the confusion, thirty or forty men were taken; and Colbert, crossing the river, charged on the spur up the road. The remainder of the riflemen threw themselves into the vineyards, and permitting the enemy to approach within a few yards, suddenly opened such a deadly fire, that the greater number of the French horsemen were killed on the spot, and among the rest Colbert himself. His fine, martial figure, his voice, his gestures, and, above all, his daring valour, had excited the admiration of the British, and a general feeling of sorrow prevailed when he fell. The French voltigeurs then crossed the river, and a smart skirmish was maintained, in which two or three hundred men on both sides were killed or wounded. Night put an end to the combat.

The reserve at length reached Nogales, having by a forced march of thirty-six miles gained twelve hours’ start of the enemy: but at this period of retreat the road was crowded with stragglers and baggage; the peasantry, although armed, did not molest the French, but, fearing both sides alike, drove their cattle and carried away their effects into the mountains on each side of the line of march. Under the most favourable circumstances, the drooping portion of a retreating force indicates sensible distress; and on the road near Nogales the followers of the army were dying fast from cold and hunger. The soldiers, barefooted, harassed, and weakened by their excesses at Bembibre and Villa Franca, were dropping to the rear by hundreds. Broken carts, dead animals, and the piteous appearance of women with children struggling or falling in the snow, completed the picture of war and its desolating results. On the evening of the 4th the French recovered their lost ground, and passed Nogales, galling the rearguard with a continual skirmish. Here it was that dollars to the amount of twenty-five thousand pounds were abandoned. This small sum was kept near headquarters to answer sudden emergencies; and the bullocks that drew it being tired, the general, who could not save the money without risking an ill-timed action, had it rolled down the side of a mountain. Part of it was gathered by the enemy, and part by the Gallician peasantry.

After exchanging several shots with the enemy, wherever appearances called for resistance, the army retired to Lugo, in front of which the entire force was assembled; and on the 7th of January Sir John Moore announced his intention to offer battle. Scarcely was the order issued, when the line of battle, hitherto so peeled and spread abroad, was filled with vigorous men, full of confidence and courage. At day-break on the 8th the two armies were still embattled. On the French side seventeen thousand infantry, four thousand cavalry, and fifty pieces of artillery were in line; but Soult deferred the attack till the 9th. On the English side sixteen thousand infantry, eighteen hundred cavalry, and forty pieces of artillery awaited the assault. No advance was, however, made; darkness fell without a shot being fired; and with it the English general’s hope of engaging his enemy on equal terms.

This was a season of singular and almost unexampled peril. The French were posted on the declivity of a precipitous range of mountains, with a numerous body of cavalry to protect their infantry, wherever necessary. Besides this, twenty thousand fresh troops were at the distance of two short marches in the rear. Then it should be considered that the British army was not in a condition to fight more than one battle. It was unprovided with draught cattle, had no means of transporting reserve ammunition, no magazines, no hospitals, no second line, no provisions. In the opinion of competent judges a defeat would have been irretrievably ruinous, and a victory of no real use. Some have suggested that Sir John Moore might have remained longer in expectation of a battle. That was not only inexpedient, but impossible. The state of the magazines decided the matter; for there was not bread for another day’s consumption in the stores at Lugo. It is true the soldiers were at the moment in fighting mood, but want of necessary food would have deprived them of physical energy; so that to expose an army of gallant but starving men to the uncertain issue of an obstinate and probably prolonged engagement would, not only have been absurd in policy, but have amounted to a wanton and unmeaning waste of human life. An effort, therefore, to gain a march as quietly as possible, and get on board without molestation, or at least so to establish the army as to cover the embarkation, was the most, if not the only, reasonable proposition to which prudence ought to listen.

The general adopted this third plan, and prepared to decamp in the night. He ordered the fires to be kept bright, and exhorted the troops to make a great effort, which he trusted would be the last required of them. The face of the country immediately in the rear of the position was intersected by stone walls and a number of intricate lanes. Precautions were taken to mark the right track by placing bundles of straw at certain distances, and officers were appointed to guide the columns. At ten o’clock the troops silently quitted their ground, and retired in excellent order; but at this critical juncture a terrible storm of wind and rain arose, so that the marks were destroyed and the guides lost the true direction. Only one of the divisions gained the main road; the other two were bewildered, and when daylight broke, the rear columns were still near Lugo. The fatigue and depression of mind occasioned by this misfortune, and the want of shoes especially, contributed to break the order of the march, and the stragglers were becoming numerous, when, unhappily, one of the generals commanding a leading division, thinking to relieve the men during a nightly halt, desired them to take refuge from the weather in some houses a little way off the road. Complete disorder followed this untimely indulgence. From that moment it became impossible to make the soldiers of the division keep their ranks; and in this disastrous condition the main body of the army, which had bivouacked for six hours in the rain, arrived at Betanzos on the evening of the 9th. During the two following days Sir John Moore was indefatigable in restoring the needful order and discipline. He assembled the army in one solid mass. The loss of men in the march from Lugo to Betanzos had been greater than in all the former part of the retreat; so that the infantry then in column did not much exceed fourteen thousand men.

As the troops approached Corunna, many an anxious look was directed towards the harbour. Nothing was to be discovered but the wide waste of water. The painful truth became evident, that contrary winds had detained at Vigo the fleet on board of whose ships the forces sought to embark; so that after one of the severest and most prolonged tests to which human endurance could be submitted, and the consuming exertions, pushed on through storm and tempest, of many wearisome days, the whole was rendered nugatory by an event over which human foresight or power had no control; and the point to which they had fought their way, instead of presenting the means of effectual retreat, became a cul de sac, or place leading nowhere. The men were immediately put into quarters, and their leader awaited the progress of events. Three divisions occupied the town and suburbs; the reserve was posted with its left at the village of El Burgo, and its right on the road of St. Jago de Compostella. For twelve days these hardy soldiers had covered the retreat, during which time they had traversed eighty miles of road in two marches, passed several nights under arms in the snow of the mountains, were seven times engaged with the enemy; and they now assembled at the outposts, having fewer men missing from the ranks than any other division of the army. The bridge of El Burgo was immediately destroyed, and an engineer was sent to blow up that of Combria, situated a few miles up the Mero river. This officer was mortified at the former failures, and so anxious to perform his duty in an effectual manner, that he remained too near the mine, and was killed by the explosion. This was followed by the destruction of an immense quantity of combustible material. Three miles from the town four thousand barrels of powder were piled in a magazine built on a hill; a smaller quantity collected in another storehouse was at some distance from the first: to prevent these magazines from falling into the hands of the enemy, they were both fired on the 13th. The inferior one blew up with a terrible noise, and shook the houses in the town; but when the train reached the great store, there ensued a crash like the bursting forth of a volcano—the earth trembled for miles, the rocks were torn from their bases, and the agitated waters rolled the vessels as in a storm. A vast column of smoke and dust, shooting out fiery sparks from its sides, arose perpendicularly and slowly to a great height, and then a shower of stones, and fragments of all kinds bursting out of it with a roaring sound, killed several persons who remained too near the spot. A stillness, interrupted only by the lashing of the waves on the shore, succeeded, and the business of the war went on.

The plot now rapidly thickened. Hemmed in by the gathering forces of the numerous French corps, whose advance had been hastened by prodigious sacrifices, both of men and means, the handful of British troops, thinned by recent losses, and worn down by the length of a harassed and contested march, were now cooped within the surface of a few square miles. Negotiation with the enemy, having for its object the permissive embarkation of the army, had been intimated to the commander by some of the officers as a prudent step, under the continued and increasing difficulties of the army, but was properly rejected, with that high spirit and clear judgment which was safely founded on an intimate knowledge of the army he commanded, and the resistance it could offer, even in its dangerous and unfavourable position. The enemy having collected in force on the Mero, it became necessary to choose a position of battle. A chain of rocky elevations, commencing on the sea-coast, and ending on the Mero, just behind the village of El Burgo, offered an advantageous line of defence; but this ridge was too extensive for the British army, and, if not wholly occupied, the French might have turned it by the right, and moved along a succession of eminences to the gates of Corunna. There was no alternative but to take post on an inferior range, enclosed, as it were, within the other, and completely commanded by it within cannon-shot. The French army had been so exhausted by toil, that it was not completely assembled on the Mero before the 12th. The same evening the expected transports from Vigo hove in sight, and soon after entered the harbour of Corunna; and the dismounted cavalry, the sick, all the best of the horses, and fifty-two pieces of artillery were embarked during the night; eight British and four Spanish guns were, however, retained on shore, ready for action. Towards evening on the 15th, the English piquets opposite the right of the French got engaged, and being galled by the fire of two guns, Colonel M’Kenzie, of the 5th, at the head of some companies, endeavoured to seize the battery, when a line of infantry, hitherto concealed by some stone walls, arose, and poured in such a fire of musketry, that the colonel was killed, and his men forced back with loss.

The morning of the 16th at length arose. All the encumbrances of the army had been shipped on the preceding night, and every measure that prudence could suggest was adopted for the safe and expeditious embarkation of the men, whenever the darkness would permit them to move without being perceived; but about two o’clock in the afternoon every one saw that these preparations, though skilfully arranged, would not then be required. A general movement along the French line gave notice of immediate action, and nothing remained on our side but to give them a proper reception. The British infantry, fourteen thousand five hundred strong, occupied the inferior range of hills already named. The French force could not be less than twenty thousand men; and the Duke of Dalmatia, having made his disposition, lost little time in idle evolutions. His lighter guns being distributed along the front of his line, a heavy fire was opened from the battery on his left, when three solid masses of infantry led to the assault. A cloud of skirmishers led the way, and the British piquets being driven back in disorder, the village of Elvina was carried by the first column, which afterwards dividing, one-half pushed on against Baird’s front, the other turned his right by the valley. The second column made for the centre. The third engaged the left by the village of Palavia Abaxo. The weight of the French guns overmatched the English six-pounders, and their shot swept the position to the centre. The ground about the village of Elvina was intersected by stone walls and hollow roads: a severe scrambling fight ensued, but in half an hour the French were borne back with great loss. The 50th regiment entered the village with them, and after a second struggle drove them to some distance beyond it. Meanwhile, the general, bringing up a battalion of the brigade of Guards to fill the space in the line left vacant by those two regiments, the 42nd mistook his intentions, and at that moment the enemy, being reinforced, renewed the fight beyond the village; the officer commanding the 50th was wounded and taken prisoner, and Elvina became the scene of another struggle. This being observed by the commander-in-chief, he addressed a few animating words to the 42nd, and caused it to return to the attack. General Paget, with the reserve, now descended into the valley, and the line of skirmishers being thus supported vigorously checked the advance of the enemy’s troops in that quarter, while the 4th regiment galled their flank. A furious action now ensued along the entire line, in the valley and on the hills.

Sir John Moore, while earnestly watching the result of the battle about the village of Elvina, was struck on the left breast by a cannon-shot. The shock threw him from his horse with violence. He rose again in a sitting posture. His eye was still fixed on the regiments engaged in his front; and in a few moments, when he was satisfied that the troops were gaining ground, his countenance brightened, and he suffered himself to be taken to the rear. The dreadful nature of the injury he had received was then noticed; the shoulder was shattered in pieces, and the muscles of the breast torn into long strips, which were interlaced by their recoil from the strain and dragging of the shot. As the soldiers placed him in a blanket his sword got entangled, and the hilt entered the wound. Captain Hardinge, a staff officer, who was near, attempted to take it off; but the dying man stopped him, saying: ‘It is as well as it is. I had rather it should go out of the field with me.’ In that manner Sir John was borne from the fight.

During this time the army was rapidly gaining ground. The reserve, overthrowing everything in the valley, and obliging Houssaye’s dragoons, who had dismounted, to retire, turned the enemy’s left, and even approached the eminence upon which the great battery was erected. On the left, Colonel Nicholls, at the head of some companies of the 14th, carried Palavia Abaxo, and in the centre the obstinate dispute for Elvina terminated in favour of the British; so that when the night set in, their line was considerably beyond the position of the morning, and the French were falling back in confusion. On the other hand, to continue the action in the dark was a dangerous experiment; for the French were still the more numerous, and their ground was strong. The disorder they were in offered so favourable an opportunity to get on board the ships, that Sir John Hope, upon whom the command of the army had devolved, satisfied with having repulsed the attack, judged it more prudent to pursue the original plan of embarking during the night. That operation was effected without delay; the arrangements being complete, no confusion or difficulty occurred. The piquets kindling a number of fires covered the retreat of the columns, and were themselves withdrawn at day-break, and embarked under the protection of General Hill’s brigade, which was posted near the ramparts of the town. When the morning dawned, the French, observing that the British had abandoned their position, pushed forward some battalions to the height of St. Lucie, and succeeded in establishing a battery, which, playing upon the shipping in the harbour, caused a great deal of disorder among the transports. Several masters cut their cables, and four vessels went on shore; but the troops being immediately removed by the men-of-war’s boats, the stranded vessels were burnt, and the whole fleet at last got away.

Thus ended the retreat to Corunna. From the spot where he fell, Sir John Moore was carried to the town by a party of soldiers. The blood flowed fast, and the torture of the wound increased; but such was the firmness of his mind that those about him expressed a hope that his hurt was not mortal. Hearing this, he looked steadfastly at the injury for a moment, and then said: ‘No; I feel that to be impossible.’ Several times he caused his attendants to stop and turn him round, that he might behold the field of battle; and when the firing indicated the advance of the British, he expressed his satisfaction, and permitted the bearers to proceed. Being brought to his lodgings, the surgeons examined the wound; but there was no hope. The pain increased, and he spake with great difficulty. His countenance continued firm, and his thoughts clear; only once, when he spake of his mother, he became agitated. The fight was scarcely ended when his corpse, wrapped in a military cloak, was interred by the officers of his staff in the citadel of Corunna. The guns of the enemy paid his funeral honours; and Soult, with a noble feeling of respect for his valour, raised a monument to his memory.

Through the whole of this eventful retreat I was mercifully preserved from grievous injury. The privations of the army were shared by all; and to these I was no stranger. Many miles of road through which our route lay were nearly deserted by the inhabitants, who, unknowing whom to trust, were afraid both of friend and foe; hence arose great scarcity of provisions. It often happened that long before we had appeared tidings of our approach had induced the entire population of the district to disappear, and with it all vestiges of food. Wine might occasionally be obtained, and sometimes in profusion; but I had observed that when our men had indulged in strong liquor, with little or no solid food, the effect was injurious, so that on the following day, when the excitement had subsided, they were unable to keep our pace: diminished strength thus compelled them to drop off, and not a few were actually picked up by the French, who hung on our rear. Another serious difficulty arose from the circumstance that our retreat was conducted in winter. The roads for an immense distance had been torn into deep ruts by the wheels of the baggage-wagons and cannon, and rendered rough by the trampling of cavalry horses; severe frost then set in, when the rough and rugged surface was suddenly hardened into ice. Meantime my shoes were worn out, and as they would no longer hold together, I was compelled to march barefooted. This was severe, and the sensation produced was singularly painful. In the frozen condition of the ground every step seemed to place my feet on flint: scarcely able to move, and yet forbidden to stay, the sergeant of my company, a worthy fellow, proposed to lend me a pair of shoes, but his kindness was unavailing; on attempting to put them on, they would not fit my feet. How it was that I was sustained under these difficulties, I knew not then; but now I know: the Almighty was my support, though I was heedless of His help. ‘His arm unseen conveyed me safe’; and I feel at this moment some satisfaction, which I hope may be pardoned, that though heavily pressed with the sufferings of those days, I never fell out of the line of march, or impeded the public service by imbecility of purpose or disposition to flinch from duty. Previous to embarkation I was provided with the article needed; and, praised be the Lord! I have never wanted a pair of shoes from that day to this. On getting into the boat which conveyed me on board the ship, determined to forget my former vexations, I threw my old shoes into the sea, and there, like my past troubles, they were soon out of sight and forgotten.