Almeida closely invested by the fifth division, but not close enough—Evacuation by the French—Suicide of the Colonel of the 4th—Sabugal—We cross the Coa—The comet—Much ado about nothing—Tom Crawley’s fears—March through Castello Branco—Portalegre, &c., to Campo Mayor—Tom Crawley poisoned—Blockade of Ciudad Rodrigo—Atalaya—Hunting excursion with the Staff—Our third battalion joins us—Colonel Barnard—Tommy Searchfield—Middy ashore—Deficiency of rations—A new arrival—His adventure—Spanish spite—The pigs—Rodrigo relieved by the French—Our division—We rejoin the army—Battle of El Bodon—We return to Guinaldo—Again invest Rodrigo—January, 1812—Fort Piquerine stormed—The stripping of the prisoners by the Portuguese—Tom Crawley again—Cure for a skulk.

At this period Almeida was closely invested by the fifth division, while we in front watched the main army. Early on the morning of the 10th of May we were ordered to get under arms, and march towards Barba del Puerco, the scene of one of our former skirmishes the year before. On arriving near the town we heard some smart firing, and we halted. We now were informed, for the first time, that the French garrison at Almeida, after blowing up the walls at night, evacuated the town, and had cut their way through the blockading force.

The brigades of the fifth division, I believe, did duty by turns. That in which were the 2nd and 4th regiments happened to be on picquet when the French made their way through the investing force, which gave rise to a verse that became very common amongst the troops. But I must remark that the badge of the 2nd regiment was a lamb, and that of the 4th a lion. The lines were as follows:—

Although these regiments were rendered somewhat unpopular from this circumstance, it is generally admitted, by those capable of judging, that there were not two finer in the service. Our battalion had been particularly fond of the 4th, while they were quartered at Colchester, where they had christened us in a friendly feeling, “The young 4th.” The melancholy death of their Colonel, who, from an over-sensitive feeling of honour, shot himself shortly after the foregoing unlucky affair, was generally regretted.

The evacuation of the fortress of Almeida having rendered the presence of our division thereabouts no longer necessary, another movement was made to the southward to General Hill, who commanded the second division, at this time menaced by a very superior force of the French.

On the first day’s march we passed through Sabugal, crossed the Coa, and encamped in a chesnut wood, close to our former scene of action.

Here a very strange panic occurred, that might have been attended with most disastrous effects. About twelve at night I was stretched on my back under the boughs of a tree, admiring the comet that at that period created some sensation in Europe, from its nearness to the earth, when a general alarm and outcry was raised in the division that “The French were upon us.” In a moment I started up, and seized my rifle. The different regiments were assembling in the greatest disorder, while the general cries of alarm on all sides induced many to feel a terror that was, perhaps, never felt in battle. Among others I plainly observed General Crauford, desiring all whom he met to fall in and load. After a short while the panic ceased: we all looked foolish enough at the great ado about nothing, though some attributed the cause to French spies having got among us, others to some bullocks grazing by, that had knocked down several stands of arms; others again accused the comet, and among the latter in our battalion was that worthy, Tom Crawley, who stoutly contended the comet was a sign we ought to leave the country, as it would shortly drop down and burn up that part of Europe. Tom himself at this period, it was shrewdly suspected, had a great desire to turn his steps homewards.

We continued our march through Castello Branco, Portalegre, and encamped on a low ground called Monte Reguingo, on the right of the road leading to Campo Mayor. There we remained about six weeks, during which we suffered dreadfully for want of rations as well as from the oppressive heat of the weather; we called it the furnace camp. Tom, while we remained at Reguingo, imagined himself poisoned. He had eaten rather ravenously of some pork and caravanÇes (a sort of pulse), and was suddenly seized with violent paroxysms of pain through his over-gorging. Old Doctor Burke being sent for, found Crawley on the ground groaning most piteously, and swelled to an enormous size, while two of his comrades were busy rubbing the lower part of his belly. The Doctor, who fancied Spain during the last two years had brought Tom’s stomach to suit the convenience of the commissary, commenced a volley of abuse—“you cannibal, what garbage have you been swallowing,” he cried, “to leave you in this condition?” “Oh, murther, do you hear him boys,” roared the sufferer, as he turned up his eyes towards his tormentor. “By the mother of God, Sir, this infernal country will kill the whole of us—may a curse fall on it; arrah, Doctor dear, when I came into it I had a stomach like any other Christian; but now, oh God, have mercy on me poor stomach, that for want of Christian food is turned into a scavenger’s cart, obliged to take in every rubbage.” The Doctor, who seldom did anything by halves, gave him an emetic sufficient to physic a dromedary. Crawley, however, who never feared death on the field, now seemed to hesitate to meet him in quarters, and between the groans he uttered, made the most vehement promises of mending his sinful life if spared. Never was an intended pious scene made more truly ludicrous; our men were in convulsions of laughter.

In July we returned to assist in the blockade of Ciudad Rodrigo, and took up a position at a village called Atalaya, at the base of the Sierra de Gata, a range of mountains. Here Lord Wellington’s staff frequently went out hunting. On these occasions they generally had five or six men of the Rifles to assist. The place abounded in wolves and wild boars, so that a great deal of amusement was experienced in this sport. I generally had the good fortune to be selected, with others of our battalion, to attend his Lordship’s staff in these excursions. The chase was very exciting, particularly from the ferocious nature of the game we sought. I well remember the first wild boar I saw in one of these hunts: he was a huge fellow, with tusks of a most alarming size, but although we fired several shots, and the hounds pursued him, he escaped. One day we came upon three young wolf cubs, the old ones having abandoned them on our approach. These animals, which we presented to one of our officers, remained in his possession for a long time, and became as docile and playful as kittens.

Here we were joined by our third battalion, under the command of Colonel Barnard, Colonel Beckwith having retired through ill-health, a gallant and very distinguished officer, now known as General Sir Andrew Barnard; at the same time, also, we were reinforced, by a batch of recruits from England, and by one Tommy Searchfield, a character well known to all the Light Brigade. This gentleman, a squat, square little fellow, had formerly been a “middy” in the Royal Navy, and now come over to us as a cadet, and subsequently obtained a lieutenancy.

“Tommy’s” first feat was something after the lessons he had received under the immortal Nelson. He had been accustomed hitherto to meet his enemies “muzzle to muzzle,” and, consequently, whenever the least intimation was given of the presence of the French, would imagine them almost passing through the loopholes, or as he termed them, our “ports.” On one occasion he bawled aloud, “to quarters,” and seizing hold of a rope, suspended outside the church of the village, to one of the bells in the belfry; to our surprise, and that of the inhabitants also, ran up it like a cat, to keep the “look-out” for the enemy. We, however, were some distance from them. The officers, for want of better employment, occupied their own and our time erecting sham fortifications in the woods, &c., and thus turned “Tom’s” peculiarities to their amusement. Searchfield, however, got “awake” to them, and his original good-natured simplicity giving way to experience, he gently informed his tormentors that he kept “a clean brace of pistols” about him, “at any time at their sarvice.” This unexpected show of pluck made his “teazers” less gibing, and “Tommy” took his proper position; and, I believe, became as respectable as any of them.

At Atalaya we were very much in the advance of the main army: the distance made it difficult for the commissariat to forward our rations regularly, and we, consequently, suffered dreadfully through want; and, I may say, underwent more privations than at any other place in Spain, excepting at Dough Boy Hill. The deficiency of bread we had been obliged to make up with roasted or boiled chesnuts, of which we were always allowed a quart a day each. At length we found it necessary to make an incursion into the mountains, to press the Alcaldes of the different villages to supply us.

On one of these expeditions, under charge of a quarter-master, we observed two persons mounted on mules, riding towards us. On their approach we remarked to one another the light-haired appearance of one, and the singularity of a “fair-complexioned Spaniard,” when the fellow suddenly stopped his mule, and jumping toward us exclaimed, “Oh, by the merciful God, are ye English?” He was immediately answered from a dozen voices in the affirmative, and we discovered him to be one of our cavalry men, who having been made a prisoner by the French at Talavera, had since escaped. His short stay among the Spaniards had not spoilt his “brogue,” and he gave us in the real Irish accent, a full account of his adventures.

When the enemy took him, dragoon-like, together with a slight wound, he could not keep up with his captors, who, having no mules, were in the practice of pressing the strongest and most robust of the inhabitants and making them carry the English prisoners on their backs, now and then keeping up their stamina by pricking their hind-quarters with the bayonets. Our cavalier consequently found himself mounted in like manner; the close contact, however, that this brought him in with the ears of his bearers was followed by whispers, and the Spaniards no doubt as tired of their burthen as the burthen of the French, slipped him into a house on the way-side, whence, having quickly shaved the top of his sconce, they passed him as a priest, and he escaped with them into the mountains. He there got amongst the Guerillas, under Don Julian Sanchez, of whom he gave us many amusing anecdotes, and who passed him on till he reached us. As soon as we returned to the village he reported himself to General Crauford, who laughed heartily at the details he gave of himself, and ordered his servant to give him a coat to supply his almost naked condition until he rejoined his regiment. Meanwhile he was ordered to stop with our company, and took up his quarters in the house with me.

Among other amusements before detailed, we used to get up jumping, wrestling, and cuffing-matches with the peasantry, who generally joined most heartily in the fun. One day, however, a Spaniard of theirs, being over-matched, became exceedingly nettled, and commenced quarrelling with one of our sergeants, named Kitchen; the result was they came to blows, when after two or three slight cuffs the peasant fell suddenly and expired. The village, of course, became a scene of uproar, and we were obliged, to satisfy the inhabitants, to hold a kind of inquest upon him. However, the barber, or “Sangrado” of the place, together with our own surgeon, to their extreme mortification declared, that the man had injured the spleen of his stomach, and actually had died through spite.

I must not forget to mention the sagacity of the pigs, which, in great numbers were kept by the farmers of the village. Though belonging to different owners they all obeyed one master, who, it may be said, with the Alcalde, held absolute sway over “man and beast.” Early in the morning the animals were assembled, by the sounding of a horn, and taken by him into the wood to feed on acorns, and at night were driven home again in like manner, the swine-herd’s only deputies being a short iron on the end of a stick, somewhat like that used by our shepherds. The anxiety of the animals, immediately they heard the tones of his instrument, was remarkable, and if they chanced to be confined at the time, their screams and grunts grew most vociferous, and might be heard a mile off. Indeed it was only for the herdsman to tune up at any time of the day they would come to him instantly, and seldom even one was missing, save and except now and then when they chanced to fall into the clutches of our riflemen.

About this period General Marmont, who had succeeded Massena in command of the French army, having concentrated his force, was enabled to relieve Rodrigo. Making a forward movement after this, it was found high time for our regiment to retire. This we did at an hour’s notice, as we heard the enemy were stirring to beat up our quarters. We fell in at dead of night, and after making a semi-circular march, for there were some fears of the enemy cutting us off, we arrived at El Bodon. There we found the greater part of the army assembled under Lord Wellington, together with the remainder of our light division, who loudly cheered us as we made our appearance, a report having arisen amongst the rest of the troops that one battalion had been all taken prisoners.

On our arrival, most of us were occupied gleaning accounts of the battle of El Bodon, which had been fought the day before, in which the 5th and 77th regiments, as we then heard, had much distinguished themselves, resisting the desperate charges made upon them by the Polish Lancers in the French service.

From El Bodon, where we remained some time, we retreated to Soito, and shortly afterwards returned to Guinaldo, a town still closer to the city of Ciudad Rodrigo. In the beginning of January, 1812, our division commenced investing Ciudad. The first day, our brigade crossed the Agueda, about three miles up the river from the city, round which we marched, keeping always at a most respectful distance on account of their round-shot. From the idea this survey gave us of Rodrigo there were few of our men not aware of the great strength of the fortress and outworks, but it afforded only a subject for jest; as I believe at that time, such was the confidence that filled the ranks of our division, it would have been difficult to persuade the men that they could not beat the French, under any odds.

The same evening, Colonel Colborne, with less than two hundred men, of the 43rd, 52nd, and Rifles, carried in the most gallant manner a strong fort of the enemy. Prior to its being stormed a number of CaÇadores had been ordered to take blankets to convey away the wounded French as well as the British. But most of those employed in this duty took advantage of it to strip the prisoners, whom to the number of fifty they left almost as naked as they were born, and exposed to all the rigours of the inclement month of January. I was present near the tent of General Crauford, when a talkative, smart little Frenchman, whom I guessed to be an officer, was brought before him; the poor fellow had nothing on but his trowsers, and bled profusely from the nose and mouth, through the blows he had received.

The General was very chagrined at the sight, and lamented his inability to give him clothes, his own baggage being so distant. Tom Crawley, however, who had been actively employed hunting the Portuguese from them, immediately stepped forward, and touching his hat after his own inimitable manner, “Yer honner,” said Tom, his eyes sparkling at being able to assist, “I’ll lend him my great coat, if ye’ll allow me.”

Crauford, much pleased at his frank offer, instantly answered, “You are very good, Rifleman; let him have it,” and Tom proceeded to strip. Meanwhile more of the Frenchmen were marched in, many worse off than their officer. One of them, a sergeant, and a smart looking fellow, as soon as he perceived the officer, ran to embrace him, and leaning his head on his shoulder, burst into tears over their mutual misery. Captain Smith, now Sir Harry, the General’s aide-de-camp, being present, generously pulled forth his pocket-handkerchief and wrapped it round the sergeant’s totally naked person, till further covering could be obtained.

The night of this occurrence came on remarkably cold, and when expecting to be marched back to our quarters at El Bodon, we were suddenly ordered to break ground by commencing to throw up intrenchments in the face of the city. In executing this task, being unsheltered from the enemy’s shot, their grape and canister occasionally played in among us, so that although it was freezing hard at the time, we had no reason to complain of not having a good fire.

Now was the time to cure a skulker, or teach a man to work for his “life.” There we were, in twos, each provided with a pick-axe and shovel; now digging with a vengeance into the frozen mould, and then watching the glances of the shot and shell; and again sticking to work like devils, or perhaps pitching ourselves on our bellies to avoid their being “purged” with grape or cannister.