An orderly dragoon puts us all in confusion—A stir—Retreat upon Santander—The dangers of forgetfulness—Cure for a fever—We return to our old quarters—Captain Shields and Major Clark’s visit—An appeal—A new mode of raising “Volunteers”—Glory or death by famine—One hundred and twenty men are starved into the service again—Scene in Santander—British soldiers and subjects—More assassinations—A cold-blooded Spaniard—A peace-loving Commandant—Captain Oakley and his “cats”—Continued horrors of the convent—Assassination—A relief from purgatory—A conclusion.

In consequence of the weakened state of the garrison and the convent, the inhabitants and Commandant of Santander were in constant fear of incursions from the enemy, who seemed to be beating about the neighbourhood. Indeed, at one time they crossed a river, some three leagues distant from the town, on the Madrid road, by means of pontoons, obliging the Spanish troops doing duty thereabouts to retire upon Santander.

One evening an orderly dragoon came post haste from Colonel Arbuthnot, to inform me that the Carlists were beating about our quarters, with orders to hold myself, and the whole of the prisoners and convalescents, in readiness to leave the convent at a moment’s notice; but not to stir until the Spanish guard doing duty over the convent had retired, in which case our retreat was to be covered by them.—Covered by them indeed! Here was a pretty predicament! upwards of three hundred British soldiers, without arms, under the auspices of a parcel of Spaniards! We had not a single stand of fire-arms, excepting my servant’s rifle; for even the Lancers, that were performing orderly duty, had been deprived of all but their swords. I instantly sent for the sergeant-major, and acquainted him with the orders received, directing him to get the men in readiness. I then ordered a couple of the Lancers to ride round and reconnoitre, and being assured by the Captain of the Spanish guard of his duly warning me before he marched, I laid myself full dressed on my bed.

I had just dozed off, when in drove two of the dragoons, informing me that our Spanish guard had retired, and that there was every reason to believe that the Carlists were in the wood behind the convent, indeed that we were surrounded; here was a blessing, not even shaving time allowed us by the Carlists. However, I instantly ordered the men to fall in as quietly as possible, and putting them under the command of Lieutenant de Becker of the 6th, and placing Captain Deacon (who at the time had blisters applied to his head and breast) on an old door, borne on the shoulders of men, off they started. Having thus cleared the convent, the sergeant-major, a few dragoons, and some Irishmen armed with sticks, covered their retreat. As we were about to follow the rest, two Spanish soldiers made their appearance, nearly out of breath, with their muskets and bayonets fixed. It appeared that, in their hurried flight, they had forgotten the Captain’s cloak. Here was a lucky chance!—Up went their heels and down they went on their backs, and, in a twinkling, their muskets and pouches were wrenched from them and shouldered for our own protection. The reader is, I expect, with his hair on end, anticipating some dreadful encounter; but this, after all, turned out, like most of our air-castles to be nothing but a bottle of smoke—though contrary to expectation, it certainly saved the life of Captain Deacon, whose illness took a turn through the confusion, and he recovered rapidly.

Fortunately the night was of a fine starlight, and we reached Santander at about three in the morning, and discovered that the whole blunder was occasioned by the Spanish troops moving without orders; we of course returned to our old quarters.

Shortly after this, two officers—Captain Shields of the 8th, and Major Clark of the 6th, were sent from head-quarters to persuade, if possible, the men to rejoin their regiments. They requested me to order them to fall in; which I did,—and the whole formed in a field opposite the convent.

The two officers, as their eyes first glanced on the gloomy ranks before them, stared in silent astonishment. “Good God!” at length ejaculated Shields, with deep emphasis, “can it be possible that these men once formed my old company, the grenadiers!” It was too true.

Clark, stepping forward, appealed to them as their old officer, and pathetically begged of them to listen. Shields did the same. But they would not, they said, say or do anything until Captain Costello had given his opinion, on whom, as an old soldier, they relied for just and practical advice.

At this, I of course came forward, and addressed them somewhat to this effect:

That the winter was fast approaching, and it was the intention of the General to keep them there during that season: the privations consequently, which they would have to undergo would be even worse than those they had already experienced. Under these circumstances, therefore, and the prospect of better food, and the chances that might, more than probably, offer themselves for their escaping through the Pyrenees into France, which closely bordered on San Sebastian, I would strongly urge them to return to their regiments. I spoke to them as a man who had once borne a musket. Their claims I acknowledged as just.^[31]

Here they all produced their agreements, duly signed by the officer with whom they first engaged, to serve for one or two years, as might be preferred by the individual so entering the service of her Catholic Majesty the Queen of Spain.

Being empowered to grant full rations to those who volunteered, I also promised them immediate relief to their hunger.

They requested a quarter of an hour’s consideration, and in that time decided, on condition of further certificates being given them, so that they should be obliged to serve only for the two years from the time they first engaged. These, signed by Colonel Arbuthnot and myself, were afterwards given them; and a number, to the amount of fifty non-commissioned officers and privates, who that night volunteered, sat down, for the first time for many months, to a bellyful; but these only were allowed it, which in this case was a wise though a cruel expedient, for that meal bought their birthright, and, for the sake of a similar supply to the cravings of nature, then almost extinct, eighty more signed their names, making in all one hundred and twenty.^[32]

The next morning it was my duty to march them to Santander, and embark them on board a steamer for San Sebastian. But to get them ready for this was a difficult task, for many of them had not even—as I before stated—clothing to cover their nakedness. The convent was ransacked everywhere; all the old rugs were soon monopolized, and divided amongst them; and even the old parchment records which had been left by the monks, were converted into covers for decency.

I never shall forget the sight, as these poor fellows slowly emerged from the convent. Numbers alone kept them going, when, perhaps, singly, each man would have died rather than have undergone such an exposure; that blush which should have for ever dyed the cheeks of their oppressors, now mantled up those of the unfortunate victims, and they bent their heads in agony as they hurried through the streets of Santander. The inhabitants, struck at the melancholy procession, murmured, as they crowded after them, “Povres Ingleses! povres Ingleses!” (poor English! poor English!) So much for the generous English, “defenders of the liberty of nations.” It was a great relief to me to see them on board. I returned to Carbon the same evening, and found those whom I had left in a state of mutiny; for two of their number had been wounded, during my absence, by the Spanish guard. One, belonging to the Lancers, had been shot through the arm; the other, one of the 6th, had received a bayonet stab in the breast. This, I was informed, was occasioned by their having strayed beyond the boundaries. I spoke to the Captain of the Spanish guard, on the cowardice of his men firing on the unarmed English. He answered me only with a shrug of the shoulder. My blood rose at his apathy—old times, when I myself had been, as it were, one of themselves, flashed across my memory, and lighted up the indignation that now stifled all thoughts of my rank and present distance. I felt as a man; and could not forbear telling him, that, had his British victims been armed, I would have made him pay dearly for his cold-blooded villainy. But the phlegmatic scoundrel had neither courage nor sympathy, and so far from granting me the satisfaction I required of him, shrunk from me with the hangman’s plea, that he had merely fulfilled orders.

What most surprised me was, that the men, naked as they were, had not rushed on the Spaniards, and taken their arms from them. But on second reflection, I attributed this want of spirit to their half-starved, weakened condition—surrounded, too, as they were, by officers on whom even their claims of compatriotism seemed lost amid the general apathy to every manly feeling.

I had the poor men conveyed to the general hospital, and put myself immediately in communication with Colonel Arbuthnot. But the gallant Commandant of Santander had become so completely Spanish, that no reply even was sent; and I was obliged, at last, to press the matter personally.

“We must not quarrel with the Spaniards,” was all I could get out of him. On my return I used every means in my power to alleviate their forlorn condition. But my authority, as Commandant, was a mere mockery, for we were entirely at the disposal of the Spanish guard. It was truly painful, despite the frequency of the scene, to witness the daily return of misery. Midnight, that hour when wretchedness generally forgets itself in sleep, seemed to have lost the influence here, its silence being broken by the passing footsteps of those unhappy men, as many passed the time telling me the oft repeated list of grievances, while they promenaded the gloomy avenues and colonnades of the old convent. At times, and when the moon shone, the whole building had the appearance of a splendid mausoleum, and the sufferers as they passed from cell to cell, looked unearthly, and put me in mind almost of the fabled and ghastly inhabitants of the other world.

By custom, however, we got so familiarized to everything revolting, that, at length, these horrors became as ordinary matters of course. A journalist would have thrown his pen aside, in the monotony of daily cruelty; and I myself, by the lapse of a few years, am only now, as it were, aroused from the lethargy it had thrown me into. I look back with a thrill. I see them still, as it were, before me,—the fierce look!—the quick order!—the lash!—and the gaunt, misery-stricken countenances of one hundred and fifty men, and all the changes their tyrants had rung amongst them!

Finding my complaints so unavailing, I made up my mind to quit the service; and, intimating my wishes to head-quarters, that a medical board might examine my wounds, I handed over my commandantship to a Captain Oakley, of the 2nd Lancers. I met this gentleman on his way to the convent, with a couple of sets of cats, which he had procured from the British frigate—I believe the ‘Castor’—then lying in the harbour of Santander. He pulled them out of his pocket, and, with an air well suited to his meaning, gave me to understand that he would have no “nonsense!”

While awaiting an answer from head-quarters, I was obliged, much against my inclination, to remain at the convent. This, however, gave me an opportunity of witnessing his first essay at the command. The wants and privations the men had hitherto endured he did not deem sufficient; and, as a last resort, they were, to the number of one hundred and fifty placed at the top of the building, in one room, the windows of which having been totally demolished, laid them open to the northern aspect, in the cold month of November, without even the poor advantage of a fire-place. Two Spanish soldiers were posted sentry, with loaded muskets, to prevent ingress or egress. One of these was employed to escort the men to the closet, one at a time, by day; and, at night, a large tub, placed in the centre of the room, served every purpose till morning.

I was one day on my return from Santander to this gloomy prison-house, when I met a party, bearing on their shoulders, the body of a man on a shutter, to the general hospital. On inquiry, I found his name to be John Bryant, of the 6th—an invalid, not a prisoner. This poor fellow, it appeared, while by order of Captain Oakley, in the act of cutting a few boughs, to make a broom to sweep the cloisters with, was watched by one of the Spanish soldiers, and, while in the tree, deliberately shot. Poor Bryant fell instantly through the branches, mortally wounded, the ball entering at the breast and passing out at the shoulder. He died the same night; but, as usual, his murder was not taken the slightest notice of.

An order at length arrived, and a medical board having sat accordingly, I was pronounced, through wounds, unfit for further service. I packed up my traps, and hastened to leave the neighbourhood. I felt as few ever felt before: and, even now, seated in my family circle, though years have intervened, seem to breathe anew the freedom I experienced at my deliverance from this worse than purgatory.

Thus ends my military career; which, little as it can boast of leading incident, may yet prove interesting. I shall, however, feel contented if it but assist to wile away a dull hour, or keep alive the recollection of personal enterprise among those of my veteran comrades whom war has permitted to live and peruse it. It is but a plain, unvarnished attempt to relate my individual adventures; and, perhaps, like the works of most men, might have amused its author, but for the fatigues and intricacies of compilation. “The fame of a scholar,” an eminent writer has observed, “is acquired only in solitude; and he connects but a chain of silent and cool reflection.” With me it is different: all my recollections are mixed up in extraordinary broils and confusions, which make it no easy task, from out so great a variety, to connect even the few incidents, thus huddled together in the