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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ae7a6c9 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #56318 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/56318) diff --git a/old/56318-0.txt b/old/56318-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b16b0f8..0000000 --- a/old/56318-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15531 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wellington's Army 1809-1814, by Charles Oman - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Wellington's Army 1809-1814 - -Author: Charles Oman - -Release Date: January 5, 2018 [EBook #56318] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WELLINGTON'S ARMY 1809-1814 *** - - - - -Produced by Brian Coe, Charlie Howard, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - -WELLINGTON’S ARMY - - -[Illustration: _PLATE I._ - -ARTHUR WELLESLEY, DUKE OF WELLINGTON. - -_From a portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence._] - - - - - WELLINGTON’S - ARMY - 1809–1814 - - - BY - C. W. C. OMAN - - M.A. OXON., HON. LL.D. EDIN. - CHICHELE PROFESSOR OF MODERN HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD - - - WITH ILLUSTRATIONS - - - _SECOND IMPRESSION_ - - - LONDON - EDWARD ARNOLD - 1913 - [_All rights reserved_] - - - - -PREFACE - - -Much has been written concerning Wellington and his famous Peninsular -Army in the way of formal history: this volume, however, will I -think contain somewhat that is new to most students concerning its -organization, its day by day life, and its psychology. To understand -the exploits of Wellington’s men, it does not suffice to read a mere -chronicle of their marches and battles. I have endeavoured to collect -in these pages notices of those aspects of their life with which no -strategical or tactical work can deal, though tactics and even strategy -will not be found unnoticed. - -My special thanks are due to my friend Mr. C. T. Atkinson, Fellow of -Exeter College, Oxford, for allowing me to use the admirable list of -the brigade and divisional organization of the Peninsular Army which -forms Appendix II. It is largely expanded from the article on the same -topic which he printed eight years ago in the _Historical Review_, and -enables the reader to find out the precise composition of every one of -Wellington’s units at any moment between April, 1808 and April, 1814. -I have also to express my gratitude to the Hon. John Fortescue, the -author of the great _History of the British Army_, for answering a good -many queries which I should have found hard to solve without his aid. -The index is by the same loving hand which has worked on so many of my -earlier volumes. - - C. OMAN. - - OXFORD, - _September, 1912_. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. INTRODUCTORY—THE OLD PENINSULAR ARMY 1 - - II. SOURCES OF INFORMATION—THE LITERATURE OF THE PENINSULAR - WAR 9 - - III. THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON—THE MAN AND THE STRATEGIST 39 - - IV. WELLINGTON’S INFANTRY TACTICS—LINE _VERSUS_ COLUMN 61 - - V. WELLINGTON’S TACTICS—THE CAVALRY AND ARTILLERY 94 - - VI. WELLINGTON’S LIEUTENANTS—HILL, BERESFORD, GRAHAM 115 - - VII. WELLINGTON’S LIEUTENANTS—PICTON, CRAUFURD, AND OTHERS 129 - - VIII. THE ORGANIZATION OF THE ARMY: HEADQUARTERS 153 - - IX. THE ORGANIZATION OF THE ARMY: BRIGADES AND DIVISIONS 163 - - X. THE ORGANIZATION OF THE ARMY: THE REGIMENTS 178 - - XI. INTERNAL ORGANIZATION OF THE REGIMENT: THE OFFICERS 195 - - XII. INTERNAL ORGANIZATION OF THE REGIMENT: THE RANK AND FILE 208 - - XIII. THE AUXILIARIES: THE GERMANS AND THE PORTUGUESE 220 - - XIV. DISCIPLINE AND COURT-MARTIALS 237 - - XV. THE ARMY ON THE MARCH 255 - - XVI. IMPEDIMENTA: THE BAGGAGE: LADIES AT THE FRONT 268 - - XVII. A NOTE ON SIEGES 279 - - XVIII. UNIFORMS AND WEAPONS 292 - - XIX. THE COMMISSARIAT 307 - - XX. A NOTE ON THE SPIRITUAL LIFE 320 - - APPENDIX I. ESTABLISHMENT AND STATIONS OF THE BRITISH ARMY IN - 1809 333 - - APPENDIX II. THE DIVISIONS AND BRIGADES OF THE PENINSULAR ARMY, - 1809–1814, BY C. T. ATKINSON, M.A., FELLOW OF - EXETER COLLEGE, OXFORD 343 - - APPENDIX III. BIBLIOGRAPHY OF ENGLISH DIARIES, JOURNALS AND - MEMOIRS OF THE PENINSULAR WAR 375 - - INDEX 385 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - PLATE - I. ARTHUR WELLESLEY, DUKE OF WELLINGTON _Frontispiece_ - _From a portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence_ - - FACING PAGE - II. LORD HILL, G.C.B. 118 - - III. GENERAL THOMAS GRAHAM, BARON LYNEDOCH, G.C.B., G.C.M.G. 126 - _From the picture by Sir George Hayter_ - - IV. GENERAL SIR THOMAS PICTON, K.C.B. 138 - - V. OFFICER OF RIFLES, 1809 188 - - PRIVATE, INFANTRY OF THE LINE, 1809 188 - - VI. OFFICER OF LIGHT DRAGOONS, UNIFORM OF 1809 194 - - OFFICER OF LIGHT DRAGOONS, UNIFORM OF 1813 194 - - VII. PRIVATE OF HEAVY DRAGOONS, 1809 284 - - OFFICER OF FIELD ARTILLERY, 1809 284 - - VIII. SERGEANT AND PRIVATE OF INFANTRY IN WINTER MARCHING - ORDER, 1813 296 - - - - -WELLINGTON’S ARMY - - - - -CHAPTER I - -INTRODUCTORY—THE OLD PENINSULAR ARMY - - -While working for the last nine years at the History of the Peninsular -War, I have (as was inevitable) been compelled to accumulate many -notes, and much miscellaneous information which does not bear upon the -actual chronicle of events in the various campaigns that lie between -1808 and 1814, but yet possesses high interest in itself, and throws -many a side-light on the general course of the war. Roughly speaking, -these notes relate either to the personal characteristics of that -famous old army of Wellington, which, as he himself said, “could go -anywhere and do anything,” or to its inner mechanism—the details of its -management. I purpose to speak in these pages of the leaders and the -led; of the daily life, manners, and customs of the Peninsular Army, -as much as of its composition and its organization. I shall be dealing -with the rank and file no less than with the officers, and must even -find space for a few pages on that curious and polyglot horde of camp -followers which trailed at the heels of the army, and frequently raised -problems which worried not only colonels and adjutants, but even the -Great Duke himself. - -There is an immense amount of interesting material to be collected, -concerning the inner life of the Peninsular Army, from public -documents, such as despatches, general orders, and regimental reports, -and records of courts martial. But I shall be utilizing to a much -greater extent non-official information, collected from the countless -diaries, memoirs, and series of contemporary letters, which have come -down to us from the men who took part in the great war. Nor are the -controversial pamphlets to be neglected, which kept appearing for -many a year, when one survivor of the old army found, in the writings -of another, statements which he considered injurious to himself, his -friends, his regiment, or his division. The best known and most copious -of these discussions is that which centres round the publication of -Napier’s _Peninsular War_; the successive appearance of its volumes led -to the printing of many protests, in which some of the most prominent -officers of Wellington’s army took part—not only Lord Beresford, -who was Napier’s especial butt and _bête noir_, and replied to the -historian in terms sometimes not too dignified—but Cole, Hardinge, -D’Urban, and many more. This set of “strictures”, as they were called, -mainly relate to the Albuera campaign. But there are smaller, but not -less interesting, series of controversial pamphlets relating to the -Convention of Cintra, to Moore’s retreat, to the campaign of 1810 -(Bussaco), the storm of Badajoz, and other topics. - -The memoirs and autobiographies, of course, possess the greatest share -of interest. And it may be noted as a remarkable fact that those -coming from the rank and file are not very much less numerous than -those which come from the commissioned ranks. If there are scores -of diaries and reminiscences of colonels, captains, and subalterns, -there are at least dozens of little books by sergeants, corporals, and -privates. Many of these are very quaint productions indeed, printed -at local presses—at Perth, Coventry, Cirencester, Louth, Ashford—even -at Corfu. Very frequently some knot of military or civilian friends -induced a much-travelled veteran to commit to paper the tales which had -been the delight of the canteen, or of the fireside of some village -inn. They are generally very good reading, but often give rather the -spirit of the time and the regiment than an accurate record of its -long-past exploits. One or two of these veterans’ artless tales show -all the characteristics of the memoirs of the prince of their tribe—the -delightful but autolatrous Marbot. I have thought it worth while to -give in an appendix the names and titles of the best of them. One -or two, above all the little book of “Rifleman Harris” of the 95th, -well deserve to be republished, but still await that honour. Perhaps -regimental patriotism may some day provide us with a series of reprints -of the best Soldiers’ Tales.[1] - -[Sidenote: Memoirs of the Rank and File] - -It is a very notable fact, which requires (but has never hitherto -received) an explanation, that it is precisely with the coming in of -the nineteenth century that British soldiers and officers alike began -to write diaries and reminiscences on a large scale, and in great -numbers. I do not, of course, mean to say that there were none such -produced in the eighteenth century. Besides serious military histories -like those of Kane, Stedman, or Tarleton, there do exist a certain -number of narratives of personal adventure written by officers, such -as Major Rogers the Scout, or the garrulous and often amusing diarist -(unfortunately anonymous) who made the campaign of Culloden with -the Duke of Cumberland—not to speak of the semi-apochryphal Captain -Carleton. But they are few, and the writings from the ranks are fewer -still, though there are certain soldiers’ letters which go back as far -as Marlborough’s time, and one or two small books like Bristow’s and -Scurry’s Indian reminiscences, and Sergeant Lamb’s _Journal_ in the -American War of Independence, which are worth mentioning. But it is -quite certain that there was more writing going on in the army during -the ten years 1805–1815 than in the whole eighteenth century. - -What was the explanation of the phenomenon? There are, I think, two -main causes to be borne in mind: the first was the glorious and -inspiring character of Wellington’s campaigns, which made both officers -and men justifiably proud of themselves, and more anxious than any -previous generation had been to put on paper the tale of their own -exploits. It must have been a man of particularly cheerful disposition -who cared to compile the personal narrative of his adventures during -the Old American War, which was largely a record of disaster, or -even in the ups and downs of the Seven Years’ War, when for every -Minden or Quebec there had been an evil memory like Ticonderoga -or Kloster-Kampen. It is to this instinctive dislike to open up -old memories of misfortune that we may attribute the fact that the -first British campaigns of the French Revolutionary War, the unhappy -marches and battles of the Duke of York’s army in 1793, 1794, 1795 are -recorded in singularly few books of reminiscences—there are only (to my -knowledge) the doggerel verse of the “Officer of the Guards,” with its -valuable foot-notes, and the simple memoirs of Sergeant Stevenson of -the Scots Fusilier Guards, and Corporal Brown of the Coldstream. This -is an extraordinarily small output for a long series of campaigns, in -which some 30,000 British troops were in the field, and where gallant -exploits like those of Famars and Villers-en-Cauchies took place. But -the general tale was not one on which any participant could look back -with pleasure. Hence, no doubt, the want of books of reminiscences. - -But I fancy that there is another and a quite distinct cause for the -extraordinary outburst of interesting military literature with which -the nineteenth century begins, and we may note that this outburst -certainly commences a little before the Peninsular War. There exist -several very good personal narratives both of the Conquest of Egypt -in 1801, of the Indian Wars during the Viceroyalty of Lord Wellesley, -and of the short campaign of Maida. And this cause I take to be the -fact that the generation which grew up under the stress of the long -Revolutionary War with France was far more serious and intelligent -than that which saw it begin, and realized the supreme importance -of the ends for which Great Britain was contending, and the danger -which threatened her national existence. The empire had been in danger -before, both in the Seven Years’ War, and in the War of American -Independence, but the enemy had never been so terrifying and abhorrent -as the Jacobins of the Red Republic. The France of Robespierre was -loathed and feared as the France of Louis XV. or Louis XVI. had never -been. To the greater part of the British nation the war against the -Revolution soon became a kind of Crusade against the “triple-headed -monster of Republicanism, Atheism, and Sedition.” The feeling that -Great Britain had to fight not so much for empire as for national -existence, and for all that made life worth having—religion, morality, -constitution, laws, liberty—made men desperately keen for the fight, as -their ancestors had never been. - -[Sidenote: The Sword and the Pen] - -Among the many aspects which their keenness took, one was most -certainly the desire to record their own personal part in the great -strife. It is in some such way only that I can explain the fact that -the actually contemporary diaries and journals become so good as the -war wears on, compared to anything that had gone before. Memoirs and -reminiscences written later do not count in the argument, because they -were compiled and printed long after the French war was over, and its -greatness was understood. But the abundance of good material written -down (and often sent to the press) during the continuance of the war -is astounding. In some cases we can be sure that we owe the record -to the reason that I have just suggested. For example, we certainly -owe to it the long and interesting military diaries of Lord Lynedoch -(the Sir Thomas Graham of Barrosa), who most decidedly went into the -Revolutionary War as a Crusader and nothing less. As I shall explain -when dealing with his remarkable career, he started military life at -forty-four, mortgaging his estates to raise a battalion, and suddenly -from a Whig M.P. of the normal type developed into a persistent and -conscientious fighter against France and French ideas—whether they were -expressed (as when first he drew the sword) in the frenzied antics of -the Jacobins, or (as during his latter years) in the grinding despotism -of Bonaparte. His diary from first to last is the record of one who -feels that he is discharging the elementary duty of a good citizen, by -doing his best to beat the French wherever they may be found. - -I take it that the same idea was at the bottom of the heart of many a -man of lesser note, who kept his pen busy during those twenty eventful -years. Some frankly say that they went into the service, contrary to -the original scheme of their life, because they saw the danger to the -state, and were ready to take their part in meeting it. “The threat of -invasion fired every loyal pair of shoulders for a red coat.”[2] - -Of the men whose memoirs and letters I have read, some would have -been lawyers (like Sir Hussey Vivian), others politicians, others -doctors, others civil servants, others merchants, if the Great War -had not broken out. I should imagine that the proportion of officers -who had taken their commission for other reasons than that they had -an old family connection with the army, or loved adventure, was -infinitely higher during this period than it had ever been before. A -very appreciable number of them were men with a strong religious turn—a -thing I imagine to have been most unusual in the army of the eighteenth -century (though we must not forget Colonel Gardiner). One young diarist -heads the journal of his first campaign with a long prayer.[3] Another -starts for the front with a final letter to his relatives to the effect -that “while striving to discharge his military duties he will never -forget his religious ones: he who observes the former and disregards -the latter is no better than a civilized brute.”[4] - -[Sidenote: The Men of Religion] - -There were Peninsular officers who led prayer-meetings and founded -religious societies—not entirely to the delight of the Duke of -Wellington,[5] whose own very dry and official view of religion was as -intolerant of “enthusiasm” as that of any Whig bishop of Mid-Georgian -times. Some of the most interesting diaries of the war are those of -men who like Gleig, Dallas, and Boothby, took Holy Orders when the -strife came to an end. One or two of the authors from the ranks show -the same tendencies. Quartermaster Surtees was undergoing the agonies -of a very painful conversion, during the campaign of 1812, and found -that the memories of his spiritual experiences had blunted and dulled -his recollection of his regimental fortunes during that time.[6] -A very curious book by an Irish sergeant of the 43rd devotes many -more pages to religious reflections than to marches and bivouacs.[7] -Another writer of the same type describes himself on his title-page -as “Twenty-one years in the British Foot Guards, sixteen years a -non-commissioned officer, forty years a Wesleyan class leader, once -wounded, and two years a Prisoner.”[8] - -On the whole I am inclined to attribute the great improvement alike -in the quantity and the quality of the information which we possess -as to the inner life of the army, during the second half of the great -struggle with France, not only to the fact that the danger to the -empire and the great interests at stake had fired the imagination of -many a participant, but still more to the other fact that the body of -officers contained a much larger proportion of thoughtful and serious -men than it had ever done before. And the same was the case _mutatis -mutandis_ with the rank and file also. Not but what—of course—some -of the most interesting information is supplied to us by cheerful and -garrulous rattlepates of a very different type, who had been attracted -into the service by the adventure of the soldier’s life, and record -mainly its picturesque or its humorous side. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -SOURCES OF INFORMATION—THE LITERATURE OF THE PENINSULAR WAR - - -It will be well, perhaps, to give a short account of the main sources -from which our knowledge of the Peninsular Army is derived. The -official ones must be cited first. The most important of all are, -naturally enough, the Wellington Dispatches. Of these there are two -series; the first, in twelve volumes, was published during the Duke’s -lifetime by Colonel Gurwood between 1837 and 1839. The second, or -supplementary series, in fifteen volumes, was published with copious -notes by the second Duke of Wellington between 1858 and 1872. - -The series edited by Gurwood is absolutely necessary to every student -of the Peninsular War, but is most tiresome to handle, and is by no -means complete. The Duke forbade the publication of a great number -of his more confidential letters, and ordered portions of others to -be omitted. He had a strong notion that a great deal of historical -information could be, and ought to be, suppressed; this fact has caused -much trouble to the modern historian, who wishes to obtain not a mere -official and expurgated view of the war, but a full and complete survey -of it. To show Wellington’s attitude it may be sufficient to quote -his answer to William Napier, who asked for leave to utilize all his -papers. “He could not tell the whole truth without hurting the feelings -of many worthy men, and without doing mischief. Expatiating on the -subject, he related many anecdotes illustrating this observation, -showing errors committed by generals and others—especially at -Waterloo—errors so materially affecting his operations that he could -not do justice to himself if he suppressed them, and yet by giving them -publicity he would ungraciously affect the favour of many worthy men, -whose only fault was dullness.”[9] - -[Sidenote: Gurwood and the Duke’s Dispatches] - -The Gurwood edition of the dispatches was published some fifteen -years after Napier made his application, but numbers of the old -Peninsular officers were still alive, and the Duke adhered to his -already-expressed opinion that it would not be well to expose old -quarrels and old blunders. Paragraphs, accordingly, are often omitted -in the reprint, and in a large majority of cases, where blame was -imputed or reproofs administered to any individual, the name was -left blank. This makes the edition most tiresome to read. It is -exasperating to find that _e.g._ “nothing has given me more concern in -the late operations than the conduct of Lieut.-Colonel —— of the —— -Regt.”[10] or that “no means exists of punishing military disorders -and irregularities of the kind committed by Brigadier-General —— -and Colonel ——.” Or again, when Wellington writes to the Patronage -Secretary at the Horse Guards that “I am much obliged to you for -relieving me from Major-General —— and Colonel ——. I have seen General -—— and I think he will do very well, and so will ——”[11]; or that “—— -appears to be a kind of madman,” and “—— is not very wise,” the reader -is reduced to despair. The only way of discovering the names, which -are often those of officers of high rank, who figure repeatedly in any -narrative of the Peninsular War, is to go to the original dispatches -at the Record Office, or, when the communication is a private and not -a public one, to the letters at Apsley House. Meanwhile, few have the -leisure or the patience to do this, so that Wellington’s judgments on -his lieutenants are still practically inaccessible. - -It was, perhaps, still necessary to leave all these blanks in 1837. -And Gurwood was no doubt acting in strict obedience to the Duke’s -orders. But nothing can excuse his own slack editing of the massive -tomes that he published. There are no tables of contents to the -volumes, nor does the title page of each indicate the dates between -which it runs. To find out which volume will contain a letter of -November, 1810, we must take down Vols. VI. and VII., and see from the -date of the last dispatch in one and the first in the other, when the -break comes. Supposing we wish to discover how many communications were -sent to Graham or Spencer in 1811, there is no other way of achieving -our object than running through every page of the two volumes in which -the correspondence of that year is contained! There is a so-called -index to the whole series, but it is practically useless, from the -small number of headings given. The reader will look in it vainly for -obvious places-names such as Chaves, Casal Novo, Castello Branco, -Vera, St. Pierre, for personal names such as Lapisse, Latour-Maubourg, -Bonnet, Montbrun, Abadia, Penne-Villemur, O’Donnell, Del Parque, -Erskine, Anson, Victor Alten, Barnard, Beckwith. On the other hand he -will find silly headings such as under L, “Lies, encouragement of,” or -under I, “Invincibility of British Troops.” Perhaps the most ridiculous -entry in this absurd compilation is that of “Light Division,” to which -there is annexed just one note, “satisfactory conduct of, on April -6, 1811,” as if that was the sole occasion on which it was necessary -to mention that distinguished unit of the British army. There are no -headings under regiments at all, so that if one wishes to see what the -Duke said about the 52nd or the Black Watch, one simply gets no help. - -But there is another trick of Gurwood’s which is even worse than his -want of tables of contents or adequate index-entries. He omitted all -the elaborate statistics which used to accompany the Duke’s dispatches, -without exception. The beautiful tables of casualties which explain -the distribution of losses between regiments and divisions, are in -every case boiled down into three bald totals of “killed, wounded, -and missing,” for the whole army, no indication of units being -left. Even Lord Londonderry’s modest two volumes, the first attempt -at a general history of the Peninsular War, give far more useful -information on the all-important topics of strengths and losses than -all Gurwood’s tomes. For that sensible author rightly saw that nothing -could be more serviceable to the reader than an occasional table of -the organization and numbers of the whole allied army, and that the -detailed casualty-list of such a fight as Talavera or Albuera is -indispensable. The purblind Gurwood preferred to put in a note, “the -detail of divisions, regiments, and battalions has been omitted, being -too voluminous,”[12] when he was dealing with an important return. The -historian owes him small thanks for his precious opinion. - -It is an immense relief to pass from Gurwood’s ill-arranged work to -the volumes of the _Wellington Supplementary Dispatches_, which were -published by the second Duke between 1858 and 1872. Though the mass of -Peninsular material contained in this series is comparatively small, -it comprises a great quantity of familiar and private correspondence, -which had been deliberately omitted from the earlier publication. -And, moreover, it is admirably edited; the second Duke knew what was -important and what required explanation, appended valuable and copious -notes, and was able (since the elder generation was now practically -extinct) to abandon the exasperating reticence used by Gurwood. -Moreover, he added a vast quantity of letters written not by, but to, -his father, which serve to explain the old Duke’s sometime cryptic -replies to his correspondents. Even a few necessary French documents -have been added. Altogether these volumes are excellent, and make one -wish that the editing of the whole of the Wellington papers had fallen -into the same hands. - -[Sidenote: Wellington’s “General Orders”] - -There is a third series of Official publications which though not -so “generally necessary for salvation” as the Dispatches, for any -student of the Peninsular War, is very valuable and needs continually -to be worked up. This is the seven volumes of _General Orders_, from -1809 to 1815, which are strictly contemporary documents, as they were -collected and issued while the war was in progress—the 1809–10 volumes -were printed in 1811, the 1811 volume in 1812, and so on. The last, or -Waterloo volume, had the distinction of being issued by the British -Military Press in Paris, “by Sergeant Buchan, 3rd Guards,” as printer. -The _General Orders_ contain not only all the documents strictly so -called, the notices issued by the commander-in-chief for the army, but -an invaluable _précis_ of all courts-martial other than regimental -ones, and a record of promotions, gazettings of officers to regiments, -rules as to issue of pay and rations, and directions as to all matters -of detail relating to organization, hospitals, depôts, stores, routes, -etc. If any one wishes to know on what day the 42nd was moved from -the first to the second division, when precisely General Craufurd got -leave to go home on private business, what was the accepted value of -the Spanish dollar or the Portuguese Cruzado Novo at different dates, -when expressed in English money, or what was the bounty given when a -time-expired man consented to renew his service for a limited period, -these are the volumes in which he will find his curiosity satisfied. -They cannot be called interesting reading—but they contain facts not -elsewhere to be found. - -There is an exactly corresponding series of General Orders for the -Portuguese Army, in six yearly volumes, called _Ordens do Dia_: it was -issued by Marshal Beresford, and contains all the documents signed -by him. Whenever a student is interested in the career of one of the -numerous British officers in the Portuguese service, he must seek out -the records of his doings in these volumes. They are not easy to work -in, as they have no yearly indices, and much patience is required to -discover isolated notices of individuals. These volumes are practically -inaccessible in England. It was with the greatest difficulty that a -Lisbon friend hunted me up a copy after long search, and I am not -aware that there is another on this side of the sea. But by its -use only can we trace the service of any Anglo-Portuguese officer. -There was supposed to be an “Ordem” every morning, and when nothing -was forthcoming in the way of promotions, court-martial reports, or -decrees, Beresford’s chief of the staff used to publish a solemn -statement that there was no news, as thus— - - Quartel-General de Chamusca, 7. 1. 1811. - Nada de novo. - _Adjudante-General_ Mosinho. - -This happened on an average about twice a week. - -In addition to these printed series there is an immense amount of -unprinted official correspondence in the Record Office which bears -on the Peninsular War. It will be found not only in the War Office -section, but in those belonging to the Foreign Office and the -Admiralty. As an example of the mysteries of official classification, I -may mention that all documents relating to French prisoners will have -to be looked for among the Admiralty records, under the sub-headings -_Transport_ and _Medical_. If, as occasionally happens, one wishes to -find out the names and regiments of French officers captured on some -particular occasion, _e.g._ Soult’s retreat from Oporto, or the storm -of Badajoz, it is to the Admiralty records that one must go! Officers -can always be identified, but it is a herculean task to deal with the -rank and file, for they used to be shot into one of the great prisons, -Norman’s Cross, Porchester, Stapleton, etc., in arbitrary batches, with -no regard to their regimental numbers. It would take a week to hunt -through the prison records with the object of identifying the number -of privates of the 34th Léger captured at Rodrigo, since they may have -gone in small parties to any one of a dozen destinations. Many of the -prison registers have lost one or other of their outer-boards, and the -handling of them is a grimy business for the fingers, since they are -practically never consulted. - -[Sidenote: The Record Office and its Wealth] - -While nearly the whole of the Wellington dispatches have been printed, -it is only a small part of the Duke’s “enclosures”, added to each -dispatch, that have had the same good fortune. These always repay -a cursory inspection, and are often highly important. The greater -part of Sir John Moore’s correspondence with Lord Castlereagh, and -many dispatches of Moore’s subordinates—Baird, Leith, and Lord W. -Bentinck—with a number of valuable returns and statistics,—are printed -in a large volume entitled “_Papers Relative to Spain and Portugal, -Presented to Parliament in 1809_.” There are, to the best of my -knowledge, no similar volumes relating to Graham’s campaign from Cadiz -in 1811, or Maitland’s and Murray’s operations on the east side of -Spain in 1813–14. A good deal of information about the latter, however, -may be got from the enormous report of the court-martial on Murray, -for his wretched _fiasco_ at the siege of Tarragona, which is full of -valuable facts. The details of the other minor British enterprises -in the Peninsula—such as those of Doyle, Skerret, Sir Home Popham, -and Lord Blayney, all remain in manuscript,—readily accessible to the -searcher, but not too often consulted. The Foreign Office section -at the Record Office is highly valuable not only to the historian -of diplomacy, but to the purely military historian, because Stuart, -Vaughan, Henry Wellesley, and the other representatives of the British -Government at Madrid, Seville, and Cadiz, used to send home, along with -their own dispatches, numberless Spanish documents. These include not -only official papers from the Regency, but private documents of great -value, letters from generals and statesmen who wish to keep the British -agent informed as to their views, when they have clashed with the -resolves of their own government. There are quite a number of military -narratives by Spanish officers, who are set on excusing themselves -from responsibility for the disasters of their colleagues. And the -politicians sometimes propose, in private and confidential minutes, -very curious plans and intrigues. Sir Charles Vaughan kept a certain -number of these confidential papers in his own possession when he left -Cadiz, and did not turn them over to the Foreign Office. They lie, -along with his private correspondence, in the Library of All Souls’ -College, Oxford. - -Since we are dealing with the British army, not with the general -history of the Peninsular War, I need only mention that unpublished -documents by the thousand, relating to the French, Spanish, and -Portuguese armies, may be found at Paris, Madrid, and Lisbon, and -that the researcher is invariably welcomed and courteously treated. -It may be worth while to make a note, for the benefit of beginners, -to the effect that the French military documents are not concentrated -in one mass, but are divided between the _Archives Nationales_, and -the _Archives de la Guerre_ at the Ministry of War. If a return or a -dispatch is not to be found in one of these repositories, it may yet -turn up in the other. The Spanish records are very “patchy,” full -on some campaigns, almost non-existent on others. For example, the -documents on the luckless Ocaña campaign of 1809 are marvellously few; -there does not exist a single complete “morning state”, by regiments -and divisions, of Areizaga’s unhappy army. I fancy that the whole -of the official papers of his staff were captured in the rout, and -destroyed by ignorant plunderers—they did not get into the French -collections. Hence there have only survived the few dispatches which -Areizaga and some of his subordinates sent to the Spanish Ministry of -War. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Contemporary Journals] - -So much for Official Records. Passing on to the publications of -individual actors in the war, we must draw a sharp line between those -which were issued during or immediately after the campaigns with which -they deal, and those which were written down, with or without the aid -of contemporary notes or journals, many years after. The former, of -course, possess a peculiar interest, because the writers’ narrative -is not coloured by any knowledge of what is yet to come. An officer -writing of Corunna or Talavera with the memory of Vittoria and Waterloo -upon him, necessarily took up a different view of the war from the -man who set down his early campaign without any idea of what was to -follow. Early checks and hardships loom larger in the hour of doubt -and disappointment, than when the recollection of them has been dimmed -by subsequent hours of triumph. The early material, therefore, is very -valuable, but it is not so copious as that which was written down -later, and it largely exists in the form of letters and diaries, both -of which are less readable than formal narratives. As good types of -this sort of material we may name Ormsby’s and Ker-Porter’s _Journals -of the Campaign of 1808–09_, Hawkers’ _Journal of the Talavera -Campaign_, Stothert’s _Diary of 1809–11_, and General MacKinnon’s -Journal of the same three years, all of which were published within a -few months of the last entry which each contains. Next to these come -the books which consist of contemporary material, published without -alteration from the original manuscripts, but only many years after -they had been written. The best of these for hard facts, often facts -not to be found elsewhere, is the diary of Tomkinson of the 16th Light -Dragoons:[13] with it may be mentioned the Journal of George Simmons of -the 95th, published in 1899 with the title, “A British Rifle Man,”[14] -the Journals of Sir William Gomm, 1808–15,[15] Sir George Warre’s -Letters of 1808–12,[16] which only saw the light two years ago, and -Larpent’s _Private Journal_, printed in 1852.[17] These volumes all -have short notes by the editors, but the text is the writing of the -Peninsular time, untampered with and unaltered. - -These books and their minor contemporaries stand in a class by -themselves, as contemporary material reflecting accurately the spirit -of the times. Much more numerous, however, are the books which, though -produced by actors in the Great War, appeared at dates more or less -remote from the years whose events they narrate. The formal histories -are comparatively few, the reason being that Napier’s magnificent (if -somewhat prejudiced and biassed) volumes completely put off other -possible authors, who felt that they lacked his genius and his power of -expression, from the idea of writing a long narrative of the war as a -whole. This was a misfortune, since the one book which all students of -military history are thereby driven to read, was composed by a bitter -political partisan, who is set on maligning the Tory government, has an -altogether exaggerated admiration for Napoleon, and owned many personal -enemies in the British army, who receive scant justice at his hands. -At the same time we must be grateful that the work was written by one -who was an actual witness of many of the campaigns that he relates, -conscientiously strove to get at all other first-hand witnesses, and -ransacked the French as well as the British official papers, so far as -he could obtain access to them. The merits of his style are all his -own, and will cause the _History of the Peninsular War_ to be read as -an English classic, as Clarendon’s _History of the Great Rebellion_ is -read, even when research has shown (as in Clarendon’s case) that much -of the narrative needs reconstruction, and that the general thesis on -which it is constructed lacks impartiality. - -[Sidenote: Napier, Southey, and Lord Londonderry] - -The only other general histories of the war which appeared were -Southey’s (three vols. published 1832) and Lord Londonderry’s.[18] The -former was written by a literary man without any military experience, -who had seen nothing of the Peninsula during the years of the -struggle, and had as almost his only merit, a good knowledge of the -Spanish sources, of which he was too uncritical. The book fell dead, -being unable to compete with Napier, and lacking all the authority of -personal knowledge which was the latter’s strong point. The smaller -book of Lord Londonderry (two volumes, published 1829) is by no means -without merit, but has many faults, always hovering on the edge between -formal history and personal reminiscences. Wherever Charles Stewart -had not been present, he passes lightly over the episodes of war, -and obviously had taken no very great pains to collect first-hand -material. At the same time the book has value, as giving the views -of a highly-placed staff officer, who had the opportunity of seeing -every episode from the point of view of Head Quarters, and had strong -convictions and theories of his own. He had also the saving grace of -loving statistics, and printed many valuable appendices of “morning -states” and casualty-lists, things of which Napier was far too -sparing, and which Gurwood suppressed altogether. As a general record -the book could not cope with Napier, and has been forgotten—somewhat -undeservedly—no less than Southey’s vast quartos. There is absolutely -no other general history by a contemporary which needs mention. Of -course I omit foreign sources, which help us little with regard to the -British army, though they are indispensable for a general study of the -war. Foy’s unfinished _Guerre de la Peninsule_, if we may judge from -the volumes which appeared before his death, would have been a very -prejudiced affair—his account of the British troops in Vol. I. is a -bitter satire, contrasting oddly enough with his confessions concerning -their merits in his _Journal_, of which a large portion was published -a few years ago by Girod de l’Ain under the title _Vie Militaire du -Général Foy_. After all the detraction in his formal history, it is -interesting to read the frank letter which says, in 1811, that for a -set battle on a limited front he acknowledges the superiority of the -English infantry to the French, “I keep this opinion to myself,” he -adds, “and have never divulged it, for it is necessary that the soldier -in the ranks should not only hate his enemy, but also despise him.”[19] -Foy kept the opinion so closely to himself, that no one would have -suspected it who had read only his formal history of the Peninsular War. - -Another French general history is Marshal Jourdan’s _Guerre d’Espagne_, -issued only ten years ago by the Vicomte de Grouchy, though large parts -of it had been utilized in Ducasse’s _Life and Correspondence of King -Joseph Bonaparte_. This covers the whole war down to Vittoria, and -is notable for its acute and often unanswerable criticism of Soult -and Masséna, Marmont, and, not least, of Napoleon himself. It is less -satisfactory as a vindication of Jourdan’s own doings. Marmont’s -autobiography only covers his fifteen months of command from May, 1811, -to July, 1812: while St. Cyr’s and Suchet’s very interesting accounts -of their own periods of activity relate entirely to Catalonia and the -eastern side of the Peninsula. St. Cyr does not touch British affairs -at all; Suchet treats his campaigns against Maitland and Murray in a -much more cursory style than his previous successes against the Spanish -armies.[20] The other French formal narratives by contemporaries and -eye-witnesses are for the most part monographs on particular campaigns -in which the writers took part—such as Thiébault’s work on Junot in -Portugal—full of deliberate inaccuracies—which was published in 1817, -and Lapène’s _Conquête d’Andalousie, en 1810–12_, and _Campagnes de -1813–14_ (both published in 1823 in volumes of different size) which -deal only with the army of Soult. There are, however, two general -histories by German officers—Schepeler (who served with the Spaniards), -and Riegel (who served with the French)—which both require mention. The -former is especially valuable.[21] - -[Sidenote: Toreno, Belmas, John Jones] - -Among Peninsular historians two deserve special notice. The Conde -de Toreno, a Spanish statesman who had taken part in the war as a -young man, produced in 1838 three massive volumes which are, next to -Napier, the greatest book that makes this war its subject. He is a -first-hand authority of great merit, and should always be consulted -for the Spanish version of events. He was a great master of detail, -and yet could paint with a broad brush. It is sometimes necessary -to remember that he is a partisan, and has his favourites and his -enemies (especially La Romana) among the generals and statesmen of -Spain. But on the whole he is a historian of high merit and judgment. -With Toreno’s work must be mentioned the five small volumes of the -Portuguese José Accursio das Neves, published in 1811, when Masséna had -but just retreated from before the Lines of Torres Vedras. This is a -very full and interesting description of Junot’s invasion of Portugal, -and of the sufferings of that realm which came to an end with the -Convention of Cintra. It is the only detailed picture of Portugal in -1808. Unfortunately the author did not complete the story of 1809–10. - -At the end of this note on historical works, as distinguished from -memoirs or diaries of adventure, we must name two excellent books, one -English and one French, on the special subject of siege operations. -These two monographs by specialists, both distinguished engineer -officers—Sir John Jones’ _Journal of the Sieges in Spain 1811–13_, -and Colonel Belmas’ _Journaux des Sièges dans la Peninsule 1808–13_, -published respectively in 1827 and 1837—are among the most valuable -books dealing with the Peninsular War, both containing a wealth of -detail and explanatory notes. The work of Belmas is especially rich in -reprints of original documents bearing on the sieges, and in statistics -of garrisons, losses, ammunition expended, etc. They were so complete, -and supplemented each other so well, that little was done to add -to the information that they give, till Major J. Leslie’s admirable -edition of the _Dickson Papers_ began to appear a few years ago, and -appreciably increased our knowledge of the English side of the siege -operations. - -Having made an end of the formal histories written by contemporaries -and eye-witnesses, it remains that we should speak of a class of -literature much larger in bulk, and generally much more interesting, -considered in the light of reading for the general student—the books -of autobiographies and personal reminiscences which were written by -participants in the war some time after it had come to an end—at any -time from ten to forty years after 1814. Their name is legion. I am -continually discovering more of them, many of them printed obscurely -in small editions and from local presses, so that the very knowledge -of their existence has perished. And so many unpublished manuscripts -of the sort exist, in France no less than in England, that it is clear -that we have not even yet got to the end of the stock of original -material bearing on the war. Some of the most interesting, _e.g._ the -lively autobiography of Blakeney of the 28th,[22] and that of Ney’s -aide-de-camp Sprünglin,[23] have only appeared during the last few -years. - -[Sidenote: Inaccuracies of Memoir-writers] - -These volumes of personal adventures differ greatly in value: some were -written up conscientiously from contemporary diaries: others contain -only fragments, the most striking or the most typical incidents of -campaigns whose less interesting every-day work had been forgotten, or -at least had grown dim. Unfortunately in old age the memory often finds -it hard to distinguish between things seen and things heard. It is not -uncommon to find a writer who represents himself as having been present -at scenes where he cannot have been assisting, and still more frequent -to detect him applying to one date perfectly genuine anecdotes which -belong to another. One or two of the most readable narratives frankly -mix up the sequence of events, with a note that the exact dating can -not be reconstructed. This is notoriously the case with the most vivid -of all the books of reminiscences from the ranks—the little volume of -“Rifleman Harris,” whose tales about General Robert Craufurd and the -Light Division flow on in a string, in which chronology has to take its -chance, and often fails to find it. - -Another source of blurred or falsified reminiscences is that an author, -writing many years after the events which he has to record, has -generally read printed books about them, and mixes up this secondary -knowledge with the first-hand tale of his adventures. Napier’s -Peninsular War came out so comparatively early, and was so universally -read, that screeds from it have crept into a very great number of the -books written after 1830. Indeed, some simple veterans betray the -source of their tales, concerning events which they cannot possibly -have witnessed themselves, by repeating phrases or epigrams of Napier’s -which are unmistakeable. Some even fill up a blank patch in their own -memory by a _précis_ of a page or a chapter from the great history. -It is always necessary to take care that we are not accepting as a -corroboration of some tale, that which is really only a repetition of -it. The diary of a sergeant of the 43rd mentioned above,[24] contains -an intolerable amount of boiled-down Napier. It is far more curious to -find traces of him in the famous Marbot, who had clearly read Mathieu -Dumas’ translation when it came out in French. - -The books of personal adventure, as we may call the whole class, may -roughly be divided into three sections, of decreasing value in the way -of authority. The first and most important consists of works written -upon the base of an old diary or journal, where the memory is kept -straight as to the sequence of events by the contemporary record, -and the author is amplifying and writing up real first-hand material. -Favourable examples of this are Leach’s _Rough Sketches of the Life -of an Old Soldier_,[25] Leslie of Balquhain’s _Military Journal_,[26] -which in spite of its title is not in journal shape, but reads as a -continuous narrative, and Sir George Bell’s _Rough Notes of Fifty -Years’ Service_,[27] all of which are definitely stated by the authors -to have been founded on their note-books of the war time, and therefore -can as a rule be treated as first-hand evidence. They can generally -be trusted as authorities against any divergent tales based on the -narratives of writers who wrote their reminiscences without any such -foundation, and where they get off the lines of contemporary evidence -they usually give the reader warning. For example, Leach gives valuable -material to show the inaccuracy of Napier’s exaggerated estimate of -the length and pace of the Light Division’s march to Talavera, whose -erroneous figures have been repeated in so many subsequent books. And -yet Leach was not conscious of the fact that the data which he gives -were incompatible with Napier’s story, and repeats it in a general -way—because he published his book several years after the appearance -of Napier’s second volume, and had (like many other members of the -Light Division) absorbed the legend as a matter of faith on Napier’s -authority. It was reserved for Sir John Bell,[28] who had served under -Craufurd but joined too late for Talavera, to explode the story. But -his demonstration of its inaccuracy has not travelled far, while the -original legend has gone all round the world, and is still reproduced, -as an example of unparalleled rapidity of movement, in serious military -works. - -[Sidenote: Gleig, Blakeney, Hennegan] - -Infinitely less valuable than the books founded on private diaries -or letters of contemporary date, are those which were written down -long after the war, from unaided memory only. They are, of course, -progressively less valuable for evidence according as the date at which -they were indited recedes from the period with which they deal. Gleig’s -charming _The Subaltern_, printed as early as 1825, may be better -trusted for matters of detail than Blakeney’s equally vivid narrative -written in the remote island of Paxos about 1835, and Blakeney is more -valuable than Hennegan’s highly romantic _Seven Years of Campaigning_, -published only in 1847, when thirty winters had blurred reminiscence, -and allowed of the accretion of much second-hand and doubtful material -round the original story. The strength of men’s memories differs, so -does their appreciation of the relative value of a dramatic narrative -as compared with a photographic record of personal experiences. But -in a general way we must allow that every year that elapses between -the event and the setting down of its narrative on paper decreases -progressively the value of the record. As an example of the way in -which the failing powers of old age can confuse even a powerful memory, -we may mention the curious fact that Wellington himself, twenty years -after his last campaign, seems to have told two auditors that he had -visited Blücher’s camp on the very eve of Waterloo, the night between -the 17th and 18th of June, 1815, a statement quite incredible.[29] -It was apparently a blurred memory of his real visit to the Prussian -headquarters on the early afternoon of the 16th, of which ample details -are known. - -Failing memory, the love of a well-rounded tale, a spice of autolatry, -and an appreciation of the picturesque, have impaired the value of -many a veteran’s reminiscences. Especially if he is a well-known -_raconteur_, and has repeated his narrative many times before he -sets it down on paper, does it tend to assume a romantic form. The -classical example, of course, is Marbot, whose memoirs contain many -things demonstrably false, _e.g._ that he brought the news of the _Dos -Mayo_ insurrection at Madrid to Napoleon, or that in 1812 he took his -regiment from Moscow to the neighbourhood of Poltava, and brought it -back (400 miles!) in less than a fortnight with a convoy of provisions, -or that he saw 6000 men drowned on the broken ice of the lake of -Satschan at the end of the battle of Austerlitz.[30] Marbot is, of -course, an extreme example of amusing egotism, but parallels on a minor -scale could be quoted from many of his contemporaries, who wrote their -tale too late. We may mention Thiébault’s account of the combat of -Aldea da Ponte, when he declares that he fought 17,000 Anglo-Portuguese -and produced 500 casualties in their ranks, when he was really opposed -by one British brigade and two Portuguese battalions, who lost -precisely 100 men between them. Yet the account is so lengthy and -detailed, that if we had not the British sources before us, we should -be inclined to think that we were reading an accurate narrative of -a real fight, instead of a romantic invention reconstructed from a -blurred memory. It was the only Peninsular fight in which Thiébault -exercised an independent command—and every year added to its beauties -as the general grew old. - -While, therefore, we read the later-written Peninsular narratives -with interest, and often with profit, as reflections of the spirit of -the time and the army, we must always be cautious in accepting their -evidence. And we must begin by trying to obtain a judgment on the -“personal equation”—was the author a hard-headed observer, or a lover -of romantic anecdotes? What proportion, if any, of the facts which he -gives can be proved incompatible with contemporary records? Or again, -what proportion (though not demonstrably false) seem unlikely, in face -of other authorities? Had he been reading other men’s books on a large -scale? Of this the usual proof is elaborate narrative concerning -events at which he cannot possibly have been present, with or without -citation of the source from which he has obtained the information. It -is only when the author has passed his examination with credit on these -points, that we can begin to treat him as a serious authority, and to -trust him as evidence for scenes at which we know that he was actually -present. Many a writer of personal adventures may finally be given his -certificate as good authority for the annals of his own battalion, -but for nothing more. It is even possible that we may have to make -the further restriction that he may be trusted on the lucky days, but -not on the less happy ones, in the history of his own beloved corps. -Reticence as to “untoward incidents” is not uncommon. As to things -outside the regiment, there was often a good deal of untrustworthy -gossip abroad, which stuck in the memory even after long years had -passed. - -[Sidenote: Books of Regimental Adventure] - -Among all the books of regimental adventure, I should give the first -place for interest and good writing to Lieut. Grattan’s _With the -Connaught Rangers_. It is not too much to say that if the author -had taken to formal history, his style, which is vivid without -exaggeration, and often dignified without pomposity, would have made -him a worthy rival of Napier as an English classic. His descriptions -of the aspect and psychology of the stormers marching down to the -advanced trenches at Ciudad Rodrigo, and of the crisis of the battle -of Salamanca, are as good as anything that Napier ever wrote. A reader -presented with many of his paragraphs would say without hesitation that -they were excerpts from the great historian. Unfortunately Grattan -suffered from one of the faults which I have named above—he _will_ -give untrustworthy information about episodes at which he was not -present—it is at best superfluous and sometimes misleading. But for -what the 88th did at Bussaco and Fuentes, at Badajoz and Salamanca, -he is very good authority. And he is always a pleasure to read. Two -good books—Gleig’s _The Subaltern_, and Moyle Sherer’s _Recollections -of the Peninsula_—have a share of the literary merit of Grattan’s -work, but lack his power. They give respectively the day-by-day camp -life of the 85th in 1813–14, and of the 48th in 1811–13, in a pleasant -and life-like fashion, and since both were published within ten years -of the end of the war—Gleig’s in 1825, Sherer’s in 1824—the writers’ -memories were still strong, and their statements of fact may be relied -upon. Both have the merit of sticking closely to personal experience, -and of avoiding second-hand stories. - -Those lively tales of adventure—Kincaid’s _Adventures in the Rifle -Brigade_, Sir Harry Smith’s _Autobiography_, and Blakeney’s memoir -(which its editor called _A Boy in the Peninsular War_)[31]—were -all written at a much later date, from twenty to thirty years -after Waterloo, and show their remoteness from the time that they -describe not so much by want of detail, nor of picturesque power of -description,—all three authors were good wielders of the pen—as by -the selection of the facts that they record. Much of the every-day -life of the regiment has been forgotten or grown dim, and only the -great days, or the most striking personal experiences, or quaint and -grotesque incidents, are recorded. This very fact makes them all very -good reading—they contain (so to speak) all the plums of the cake -and comparatively little of the less appetizing crust. Harry Smith’s -chapters are practically the tale of his Odyssey in the campaigns of -1812–13 along with the heroic little Spanish wife whom he had picked -up and married at the storm of Badajoz. Kincaid is a humourist—he -remembers all the grotesque incidents, ludicrous situations, practical -jokes, and misadventures, in which he and his comrades were concerned, -and pours them out in a string of anecdotes, loosely connected by a -narrative of which he says that he refuses to be responsible for the -exact sequence or dating. It is very amusing, and some of the more -striking stories can be verified from other and better authorities. -But the general effect is often as if we were reading a chapter out -of Lever’s _Charles O’Malley_, or some such old-fashioned Peninsular -romance. Blakeney’s book gives a better impression for solidity, and -he fills up many an incident, otherwise known to us only in outline, -with picturesque detail which bears every appearance of truth. But -I have once or twice found his narrative refusing to square in with -contemporary documents, and when this is the case the story written -twenty-five years after the event must go to the wall.[32] He must be -used with caution, though he is giving a genuine record to the best of -his ability. - -[Sidenote: Reminiscences from the Ranks] - -Nearly all the reminiscences from the ranks are subject to these same -disabilities. With hardly an exception they were written down long -years after the events recorded. Usually the narrator had no books -or notes to help him, and we get a genuine tale, uninfluenced by -outer sources, but blurred and foreshortened by the lapse of time. -The details of personal adventure are perfectly authentic to the best -of the veteran’s memory; incidents of battle, of camp hardships, of -some famous court-martial and subsequent punishment-parade, come out -in a clear-cut fashion. But there are long gaps of forgotten months, -frequent errors of dating, and often mistakes in the persons to whom an -exploit, an epigram, or a misadventure are attributed. Yet these little -volumes give the spirit of the rank and file in the most admirable -fashion, and enable us to realize the inner life of the battalion as -no official document can do. There are a few cases where the author -has got hold of a book, generally Napier’s great history, and to a -great extent spoils his work by letting in passages of incongruous -eloquence, or strategical disquisition, into the homely stuff of his -real reminiscences.[33] - -One soldier’s little volume stands out from all the rest for its -literary merit—it is the work of a man of superior education, who had -enlisted in a moment of pique and humiliation to avoid facing at home -the consequences of his own conceit and folly. This short story of 150 -pages called _Journal of T. S., a Soldier of the 71st Highland Light -Infantry, 1806–15_, was written down as early as 1818,[34] when memory -was still fresh. Its value lies in the fact that the author wrote from -the ranks, yet was so different in education and mental equipment from -his comrades, that he does not take their views and habits for granted, -but proceeds to explain and comment on them. “I could get,” as he -notes, “no pleasure from their amusements, but found it necessary to -humour them in many things, and to be obliging to all. I was thought -saucy, and little courted by them, they not liking my dry manner as -they called it.” His narrative is that of an intelligent observer -of the behaviour of the regiment, in whose psychology he is deeply -interested, rather than that of a typical soldier. Having a ready pen -and a keen observant eye, he produced a little book of extraordinary -interest. The chronicle of his marches, and the details of the actions -which he relates, seem very accurate when compared with official -documents. - -Sergeant Donaldson of the 94th was another notable Scot whose book, -_The Eventful Life of a Soldier_, is well worth reading. He was not -so well educated as T. S., nor had he the same vivid literary style. -But he was an intelligent man, and possessed a wider set of interests -than was common in the ranks, so that it is always worth while to -look up his notes and observations. His description of the horrors -of Masséna’s retreat from Portugal in 1811 is a very striking piece -of lurid writing. After him may be mentioned a quartermaster and -a sergeant—Surtees and Costello—both of the Rifle Brigade,—whose -reminiscences are full of typical stories reflecting the virtues and -failings of the famous Light Division. For the views and ways of -thought of the ordinary private of the better sort, the little books -of “Rifleman Harris,” already cited above, Lawrence of the 40th, and -Cooper of the 7th Fusiliers,[35] are valuable authority. They are -admirable evidence for the way in which the rank and file looked on a -battle, a forced march, or a prolonged shortage of rations. But we must -not trust them overmuch as authorities on the greater matter of war. - -[Sidenote: Memoirs of French Veterans] - -There is a considerable bulk of French reminiscences dealing with -the purely British side of the Peninsular War. Beside Marbot’s and -Thiébault’s memoirs, of which I have already made mention, three -or four more must not be neglected by any one who wishes to see -Wellington’s army from the outside. By far the most vivid and lively -of them is Lemonnier-Delafosse of the 31st Léger, whose _Souvenirs -Militaires_ were published at Havre in 1850. He is a bitter enemy, and -wants to prove that Wellington was a mediocre general, and ought always -to have been beaten. But he does his best to tell a true tale, and -acknowledges his defeats handsomely—though he thinks that with better -luck they might have been victories. Failing memory can be detected in -one or two places, where he makes an officer fall at the wrong battle, -or misnames a village. Fantin des Odoards, also (oddly enough) of the -31st Léger, kept a journal, so that his reminiscences of 1808–11 are -very accurate. He is specially valuable for Moore’s retreat and Soult’s -Oporto campaign. A far more fair-minded man than Delafosse, he is full -of acknowledgments of the merit of his British adversaries, and makes -no secret of his disgust for the Spanish war,—a nightmare of plunder -and military executions naturally resulting from an unjust aggression. -A third valuable author is Colonel St. Chamans, an aide-de-camp of -Soult, whom he cordially detested, and whose meanness and spirit -of intrigue he is fond of exposing. He is of a light and humorous -spirit—very different from another aide-de-camp, Ney’s Swiss follower, -Sprünglin, whose journal[36] is a most solid and heavy production, of -value for minute facts and figures but not lively. Unlike St. Chamans -in another respect, he is devoted to his chief, the Marshal, of whom -he was the most loyal admirer. But I imagine that Ney was a much more -generous and loveable master than the wily Soult. - -Other useful French volumes of reminiscences are those of Guingret -of the 6th corps, full of horrible details of Masséna’s Portuguese -misfortunes; of D’Illens, a cavalry officer who served against Moore -and Wellesley in 1808–09; and of Vigo-Roussillon, of the 8th Line, who -gives the only good French narrative of Barrosa. Parquin is a mere -_sabreur_, who wrote his memoir too late, and whose anecdotes cannot be -trusted. He survived to be one of the followers of Napoleon III. in his -early and unhappy adventures at Boulogne and elsewhere. Other French -writers, such as Rocca and Gonneville, were long in Spain, but little -in contact with the British, being employed on the Catalan coast, or -with the army of the South on the Granada side. So much for the works -of actors in the Great War, who relate what they have themselves seen. -We need spend but a much smaller space on the books of the later -generations, which are but second-hand information, however carefully -they may have been compiled. - -The British regimental histories ought to be of great value, since the -series compiled by the order of the Horse Guards, under the general -editorship of Richard Cannon, in the 1830’s, might have been enriched -by the information obtainable from hundreds of Peninsular veterans, -who were still surviving. Unfortunately nearly every volume of it is -no more than bad hack-work. In the majority of the volumes we find -nothing more than copious extracts from Napier, eked out with reprints -of the formal reports taken from the _London Gazette_. It is quite -exceptional to find even regimental statistics, such as might have been -obtained with ease from the pay-lists and other documents in possession -of the battalion, or stored at the Record Office. Details obtained -through enquiry from veteran officers who had served through the war -are quite exceptional. Some of his volumes are less arid and jejune -than others—and this is about all that can be said in favour of even -the best of them. - -[Sidenote: Regimental Histories] - -All the good regimental histories, without exception, are outside the -official “Cannon” series. Some are excellent; it may be said that, as -a general rule, those written latest are the best: the standard of -accuracy and original research has been rising ever since 1860. Among -those which deserve a special word of praise are Colonel Gardyne’s -admirable _The Life of a Regiment_ (the Gordon Highlanders), published -in 1901; Cope’s _History of the Rifle Brigade_ (full of excerpts from -first-hand authorities) which came out in 1877; Moorsom’s _History of -the 52nd Oxfordshire Light Infantry_ (the first really good regimental -history which was written), published in 1860; Davis’s _History of -the 2nd Foot_ (Queen’s West Surrey), and Colonel Hamilton’s _14th -Hussars_. By the time that these began to appear, the level of research -was beginning to rise, and it was no longer considered superfluous to -visit the Record Office, or to make enquiries for unpublished papers -among the families of old officers. All those mentioned above are large -volumes, but even the smaller histories are now compiled with care, -and their size is generally the result not of scamped work (as of -old), but of the fact that some regiments have, by the chance of their -stations, seen less service than others, and therefore have less to -record. I may mention as books on the smaller scale which have proved -useful to me, Hayden’s history of the 76th, Smyth’s of the 20th, and -Purdon’s of the 47th. A rare example of the annals of a smaller unit, -a battery not a battalion, is Colonel Whinyates’ story of C Troop, -R.H.A., which he called _From Corunna to Sebastopol_, in which much -loyal and conscientious work may be found. But the history of the whole -of the Artillery of the Peninsular Army, Portuguese as well as English, -is now being worked out in admirable detail in the _Dickson Papers_, -edited by Major John Leslie, R.A., who knows everything that can be -known about the units of his corps which served under Wellington. -Sir Alexander Dickson, it may be remarked, was Commanding Officer of -the Artillery in the later campaigns of 1813 and in 1814, and before -he obtained that post had been in charge of all the three sieges of -Badajoz as well as those of Olivenza and Ciudad Rodrigo. Since he -had been lent to the Portuguese artillery, his papers give copious -information as to the auxiliary batteries of that nation which were -attached to the Peninsular Army. It is devoutly to be wished that some -officer would take up a corresponding task by compiling the annals of -the Royal Engineers in the Peninsular War. Connolly’s _History of the -Royal Sappers and Miners_ (published so far back as 1857), has much -good information, but infinitely more could be compiled by searching -the Record Office, and collating the memoirs of Boothby, Burgoyne, -Landmann, and other engineer officers who have left journals or -reminiscences. - -Along with the British regimental histories should be named two sets -of volumes which are of the same type, though they relate to larger -units than a regiment, and do not deal with our own troops. The first -class deals with our German auxiliaries, and is headed by Major Ludlow -Beamish’s valuable and conscientious _History of the King’s German -Legion_. This was written in 1832, but is a very favourable example -of research for a book of the date, when Cannon’s miserable series -represented the level of English regimental history. The two volumes -contain many original letters and documents, and some excellent plates -of uniforms. In 1907 Captain Schwertfeger went over the same ground -in his _Geschichte der Königlich Deutschen Legion_,[37] and added -appreciably to Beamish’s store of facts. The Brunswick Oels regiment, -which served Wellington from 1811 to 1814, has also a German biographer -in Colonel Kortfleisch, who has served in the 88th German Infantry, -which now represents that ancient corps. There is no similar history -for the _Chasseurs Brittaniques_, the last of the old Peninsular -foreign corps. - -[Sidenote: Portuguese Authorities] - -For the Portuguese Army a good description of the state of affairs in -1810, when it had just been reorganized, is contained in Halliday’s -_Present State of Portugal_, published in 1812. Chaby’s _Excerptos -Historicos_[38] contains a good deal of valuable material for its -subsequent history, but is sadly ill-arranged and patchy. Only the -Portuguese artillery in the Peninsular War has been dealt with in -Major Teixeira Botelho’s _Subsidios para a Historia da Artilheria -Portegueza_, which is very full and well documented. The life of a -British officer serving with a Portuguese regiment can be studied -in the _Memoirs of Bunbury_ (20th Line),[39] and Blakiston (5th -Caçadores).[40] - -After regimental histories, the next most important source of -information, in the way of books not written by those who served under -Wellington, is personal biographies. Captain Delavoye’s _Life of Lord -Lynedoch_ (Sir Thomas Graham)[41] is perhaps the most useful among -them, not so much for any merit of style or arrangement, as for the -excellent use of contemporary documents not available elsewhere. A -large portion of the volume consists of excerpts from Graham’s long and -interesting military journal, and letters from and to him are printed -_in extenso_. Thus we get first-hand information on many events at -which no other British witness was present, _e.g._ Castaños’ campaign -on the Ebro in 1808, as well as comments on better known operations, -such as Sir John Moore’s Corunna retreat, and the Barrosa expedition -of 1811. Unfortunately both journal and letters fail for the campaign -of 1813, in which Graham took such a distinguished part. - -H. B. Robinson’s _Memoirs of Sir Thomas Picton_[42] was a book of -which Napier fell foul—there are many caustic comments on it in his -controversial appendices. But it is not nearly so bad a work as might -have been expected from his way of treating it. Indeed I fancy that -Napier was paying off an old Light Division grudge against Picton -himself, whom he personally disliked. The narrative is fair, and the -quantity of contemporary letters inserted give the compilation some -value. Sidney’s _Life of Lord Hill_[43] is far inferior to Robinson’s -book: the author did not know his Peninsular War well enough to -justify the task which he took in hand, and the letters, of which he -fortunately prints a good many, are the only valuable material in it. -It is curious that both Picton and Hill had their lives written by -clergymen, when there were still a good many old Peninsular officers -surviving who might have undertaken the task. - -Of the other chief lieutenants of Wellington, Beresford has never -found a biographer, though the part which he played in the war was -so important. There must be an immense accumulation of his papers -somewhere, in private hands, but I do not know where they lie. The only -account of him consists of a few pages in a useful but rather formal -and patchy little book by J. W. Cole, entitled, _Memoirs of British -Generals Distinguished during the Peninsular War_.[44] Lord Combermere -(Stapleton Cotton) was in high command throughout Wellington’s -campaigns, but was hardly up to his position, though he earned his -chief’s tolerance by strict obedience to orders, a greater merit in the -Duke’s eyes than military genius or initiative. There is a biography of -him by Lady Combermere and Captain W. Knollys (1866) but the Peninsular -chapters are short. Of Sir Lowry Cole, Sir John Gaspard Le Marchant, -and several other prominent divisional generals and brigadiers, the -only biographies are those in J. W. Cole’s book mentioned above. Sir -James Leith, more fortunate, had a small volume dedicated to his memory -by an anonymous admirer in 1818, but it was written without sufficient -material, Leith’s private correspondence not (as it seems) being in -the author’s hands, while official documents were not for the most -part available at such an early date. There is a good deal, however, -concerning this hard-fighting general’s personality and adventures to -be gleaned from the memoirs of his nephew and aide-de-camp, Leith Hay. - -[Sidenote: Biographies of Gough, Colborne, etc.] - -Of officers who did not attain to the highest rank under Wellington, -but who in later years made a great career for themselves, there are -two biographies which devote a large section to Peninsular matters, -those of Lord Gough by R. S. Rait (two vols., 1903), and of Lord -Seaton (Colborne of the 52nd) by Moore Smith. These are both excellent -productions, which give much private correspondence of the time, and -have been constructed on modern lines, with full attention to all -possible sources first- and second-hand. They are both indispensable -for any one who wishes to make a detailed study of the Peninsular -campaigns. There are also short memoirs of Sir Denis Pack[45] and Lord -Vivian,[46] each produced by a grandson of the general, and giving -useful extracts from journals and correspondence. The campaign of Sir -John Moore can, perhaps, hardly be considered as falling into the -story of Wellington’s army, but it is impossible to avoid mentioning -the full (and highly controversial) biography of the hero of Corunna -by Sir J. F. Maurice,[47] which contains an invaluable diary, and much -correspondence. It is an indispensable volume, at any rate, for those -who wish to study the first year of the Peninsular War, and to mark the -difference between the personalities and military theories of Moore and -Wellington. - -Of formal and detailed histories of the Peninsular War written in -recent years there is one in Spanish by General Arteche, a very -conscientious and thorough-going worker at original documents, who -got up a good many English authorities, but by no means all. For the -Spanish version of the whole war he is absolutely necessary. So, for -the Portuguese version, is the immense work of Soriano da Luz, which is -largely founded on Napier, but often differs from him, and brings many -unpublished documents to light. Colonel Balagny has started a history -of the war in French on a very large scale, delightfully documented, -and showing admirable research. In five volumes he has only just got -into 1809, so the whole book will be a large one. Mr. Fortescue’s -fine history of the British Army has just started on the Peninsular -campaign in its last volume. To my own four volumes, soon I hope to be -five, I need only allude in passing. There is one immense monograph on -Dupont’s Campaign by a French author, Colonel Titeux, which does not -touch English military affairs at all. Two smaller but good works of -the same type by Colonel Dumas and Commandant Clerc are both, oddly -enough, dedicated to the same campaign,—Soult’s defence of the Pyrenean -frontier in 1813–14: the former is the better of the two: both have -endeavoured, in the modern fashion, to use the reports of both sides, -not to write from the documents of one only; but Dumas has a better -knowledge of his English sources than Clerc. - -It is beyond my power to guess why similar monographs on separate -campaigns of the war do not appear in English also. But the few -_brochures_ purporting to treat of such which have appeared of late -on this side of the channel, are mostly cram-books for examinations, -resting on no wide knowledge of sources, and often consisting of little -more than an analysis of Napier, with some supplementary comments -hazarded. They contrast very unfavourably with a book such as that of -Colonel Dumas. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON—THE MAN AND THE STRATEGIST - - -So much for our sources. We may now proceed to discover what we can -deduce from them. And we must inevitably begin with a consideration -of the great leader of the British army. I am not writing a life of -Wellington, still less a commentary on his campaigns—with which I -am trying to deal elsewhere. My object is rather to paint him as he -appeared to his own army, and as his acts and his writings reveal him -during the course of his Peninsular campaigns. The Arthur Wellesley of -1809 is difficult to disentangle in our own memories from the familiar -figure of Victorian reminiscences. We think of him as the “Great -Duke,” the first and most honoured subject of the crown, round whom -centre so many stories, more or less well founded, illustrating his -disinterestedness, his hatred of phrases, insincerities, sentiment, and -humbug generally, his punctiliousness, his bleak frugality, and his -occasional scathing directness of speech—for he could never “suffer -fools gladly.” He had become a legend long before he died, and it takes -an effort of mind to differentiate the old man of 1850 from the general -of 1809, who had still, in the eyes of most men, his reputation to -make. For those who understood the greatness of his Indian exploits -were few. It was not Napoleon only who thought that to call Wellesley -a “sepoy general” was sufficient to reduce his reputation to that of a -facile victor over contemptible enemies. - -When he took command of the Peninsular Army in the April of that -year, Arthur Wellesley was thirty-nine: he had just reached early -middle age. He was a slight but wiry man of middle stature, well built -and erect, with a long face, an aquiline nose, and a keen but cold -grey eye. His reputation as a soldier was already high; but few save -those who had served under him in India understood the full scope of -his abilities. Many undervalued him, because he was a member of a -well-known, but ill-loved family and political group, and had owed -his early promotion and opportunities of distinguishing himself to -that fact. It was still open to critics to say that the man who had -commanded a battalion in the old Revolutionary War at the age of -twenty-three, and who had headed an army in India before he was quite -thirty, had got further to the front than he deserved by political -influence. And it was true (though the fact is so often forgotten), -that in his early years he had got much help from his connections, that -he had obtained his unique chance in India because he was the brother -of a viceroy, and that since his return from the East he had been more -of a politician than a general. Was he not, even when he won Vimeiro, -Secretary for Ireland in the Tory government of the day? It was a post -whose holder had to dabble in much dirty work, when dealing with the -needy peers, the grovelling place-mongers, and the intriguing lawyers -of Dublin. Wellesley went through with it all, and not by any means -in a conciliatory way. He passed the necessary jobs, but did not hide -from the jobbers his scorn for them. When the Secretary for Ireland -had to deal with any one whom he disliked, he showed a happy mixture -of aristocratic hauteur and cold intellectual contempt, which sent the -petitioner away in a bitter frame of mind, whether his petition had -been granted or no. Unfortunately, he carried this manner from the -Irish Secretaryship on to the Headquarters of the Peninsular Army. It -did not tend to make him loved. - -[Sidenote: Wellington and the Whigs] - -Fortunately for Great Britain, it does not always follow that, because -a man has been pushed rapidly to the front by political influence, he -is therefore incompetent or unworthy of the place given him. Every one -who came into personal contact with Arthur Wellesley soon recognized -that Castlereagh and the other ministers had not erred when they sent -the “Sepoy General” to Portugal in 1808, and when they, despite of all -the clamour following the Convention of Cintra, despatched him a second -time to Lisbon in 1809, this time with full control of the Peninsular -Army. From the first opening of his Vimeiro campaign the troops that he -led had the firmest confidence in him—they saw the skill with which he -handled them, and criticism very soon died away. It was left for Whig -politicians at home, carpers with not the slightest knowledge of war, -to go on asserting for a couple of years more that he was an over-rated -officer, that he was rash and reckless, and that his leadership -would end, on some not very distant day, with the expulsion of the -British army from the Peninsula. At the front there were very few such -doubters—though contemporary letters have proved to me that one or two -were to be found.[48] - -To say that Wellington from the first was trusted alike by his officers -and his men, is by no means to say that he was loved by them. He did -everything that could win confidence, but little that could attract -affection. They recognized that he was marvellously capable, but that -he was without the supreme gift of sympathy for others. “The sight of -his long nose among us,” wrote one of his veterans, “was worth ten -thousand men any day of the week. I will venture to say that there was -not a heart in the army which did not beat more lightly when we heard -the joyful news of his arrival.”[49] But this does not mean that he was -regarded with an enthusiasm of the emotional and affectionate sort. -Another Light Division officer sums up the position in the coldest -words that I have ever seen applied to the relations of a great general -with his victorious army. “I know that it has been said that Wellington -was unpopular with the army. Now I can assert with respect to the -Light Division that the troops _rather liked him than otherwise_.... -Although Wellington was not what may be called popular, still the -troops possessed great confidence in him, nor did I ever hear a single -individual express an opinion to the contrary.”[50] - -There must, indeed, have been something to repel enthusiasm and -affection in the leader of whom, after five years of victories won and -hardships suffered in common, it could be said that his troops “rather -liked him than otherwise.” But they found that he was a hard master, -slow to praise and swift to blame and to punish. Though he knew the -military virtues of his rank and file, and acknowledged that they had -more than once “got him out of a scrape” by performing the almost -impossible, he did not love them. He has left on record unpardonable -words concerning his men. “They are the scum of the earth. English -soldiers are fellows who have enlisted for drink—that is the plain -fact: they have _all_ enlisted for drink.”[51] Quite as bad in spirit -is one of his sayings before a Royal Commission on the Army. “I have no -idea of any great effect being produced on British soldiers by anything -but the fear of immediate corporal punishment.” Naturally enough -a leader with such views never appealed to the better side of his -men: he never spoke or wrote about honour or patriotism to them, but -frequently reminded them of the lash and the firing-party, that were -the inevitable penalty for the straggler, the drunkard, the plunderer, -and the deserter. Nothing cooled the spirits of officers and men alike -more than the strength and vigour of his rebukes, as compared with the -official formality of his terms of praise. It was possible to have a -full appreciation of his marvellous powers of brain, and a complete -confidence in him as a leader, without feeling the least touch of -affection for this hard and unsympathetic figure. - -[Sidenote: Wellington and his Men] - -The distressing point in all this is that the Peninsular Army, though -it had its proportion of hardened sots and criminals, was full of good -soldiers who knew what honour and loyalty meant, and were perfectly -capable of answering any stirring appeal to their heart or their -brain. There are dozens of diaries and autobiographies written in the -ranks which show the existence of a vast class of well-conditioned -intelligent, sober, even religious men, who were doing their work -conscientiously, and would have valued a word of praise—they often got -it from their regimental officers—seldom from their commander-in-chief. -And we may add that if anything was calculated to brutalize an army -it was the wicked cruelty of the British military punishment code, -which Wellington to the end of his life supported. There is plenty -of authority for the fact that the man who had once received his -500 lashes for a fault which was small, or which involved no moral -guilt, was often turned thereby from a good into a bad soldier, by -losing his self-respect and having his sense of justice seared out. -Good officers knew this well enough, and did their best to avoid the -cat-of-nine-tails, and to try more rational means—more often than not -with success.[52] - -It might have been expected that Wellington would at least show more -regard for the feelings of his officers, however much he might contemn -his rank and file. As a rule he did not. He had some few intimates -whom he treated with a certain familiarity, and it is clear that he -showed consideration and even kindness to his aides-de-camp and other -personal retainers. But to the great majority of his officers, even to -many of his generals and heads of departments, he bore himself very -stiffly: he would administer to them humiliating snubs or reproofs -before others, and ignore their remarks or proffered counsel in the -most marked way. A few examples may serve. Sir Thomas Picton was one -of his most distinguished lieutenants, and was specially summoned by -him to come over to Brussels to take his part in the campaign of 1815. -The moment that he arrived in the Belgian capital he sought the Duke, -who was walking in the Great Park. We have the witness of Picton’s -aide-de-camp for the following reception. “The general’s manner was -always more familiar than the Duke liked in his lieutenants, and on -this occasion he approached him in a careless sort of way, just as he -might have greeted an equal. The Duke bowed coldly to him, and said, ‘I -am glad you are come, Sir Thomas. The sooner you get on horseback the -better: no time to be lost. You will take the command of the troops in -advance.’ That was all. Picton appeared not to like the Duke’s manner, -and when he had bowed and left, he muttered words which convinced those -who were with him that he was not much pleased with his interview.”[53] -Such was the welcome vouchsafed to one of the best officers in the -army, whom Wellington had specially sent for, and whom he had not seen -for a long space of time. Another picture of Wellington’s manners may -be taken from the memoir of one of his departmental chiefs, Sir James -McGrigor. “One morning I was in his lordship’s small room, when two -officers came to request leave to go home to England. An engineer -captain first made his request: he had received letters informing him -that his wife was dangerously ill, and that the whole of his family -were sick. His lordship quickly replied, ‘No, no, sir. I cannot spare -you at this moment.’ The captain, with a mournful face, drew back. Then -a general officer, of noble family, commanding a brigade, advanced -saying, ‘My lord, I have lately been suffering much from rheumatism——’. -Without allowing him time to complete his sentence, Lord Wellington -rapidly said, ‘and you want to go to England to be cured. By all means. -Go there immediately.’ The general, surprised at his lordship’s tone -and manner, looked abashed, but to prevent his saying anything more, -his lordship turned and began to address me, enquiring about the -casualty-returns of the preceding night, and the nature of them.”[54] -An interview with the commander-in-chief was such a trying thing for -the nerves that some officers went away from it in a flood of tears—as -did Charles Stewart after one famous reproof—and others suffocating -from suppressed maledictions. - -[Sidenote: Wellington and his Officers] - -Wellington’s temper was tried by having to deal with some inefficient -and slack officers—foisted upon him from home—for never till the end -of the war (as he bitterly complained) was he allowed complete liberty -in choosing his subordinates. But it was not on them alone that his -thunders fell. He often raged at zealous and capable subordinates, -who had done no more than think for themselves in an urgent crisis, -when the orders that they had received seemed no longer applicable. -Sir James McGrigor, whom I have just quoted above, once moved some -commissariat stores to Salamanca, where there was a great accumulation -of sick and wounded. “When I came to inform him his lordship started -up, and in a violent manner began to repudiate what I had done. ‘I -shall be glad to know,’ he asked, ‘who commands this army—I or you? I -establish one route, one line of communication—you establish another -by ordering up supplies by it. As long as you live, sir, never do -that again. Never do _anything_ without my orders.’ I pleaded that -there had been no time to consult him, and that I had to save lives. -He peremptorily desired me ‘never again to act without his orders.’” -Three months afterwards McGrigor ventured to say, “My lord, you will -remember how much you blamed me at Madrid, for the steps that I took -when I could not consult your lordship, and acted for myself. Now, if -I had not, what would the consequences have been?” He answered, “It is -all right as it has turned out, but still I recommend you to _have my -orders for what you do_.” This was a singular feature in his lordship’s -character. - -Anything that seemed to Wellington to partake of the nature of -thinking for oneself was an unpardonable sin in a subordinate. This -is why he preferred blind obedience in his lieutenants to zeal and -energy which might lead to some contravention of his own intention. -Thus it came that he preferred as lieutenants not only Hill, who was -a man of first-class brain-power notwithstanding his docility, but -Spencer and Beresford, who most certainly were not. Hence, too, his -commission of the cavalry arm throughout the war to such a mediocre -personage as Stapleton Cotton (of whom he used the most unflattering -language).[55] These men could be trusted to obey without reasoning, -while Robert Craufurd, the ablest general in the Peninsula, or Picton, -could not, but were liable to think for themselves. It may be noted -that Hill, Beresford, Graham and Craufurd, were the only officers to -whom Wellington ever condescended in his correspondence to give the why -and wherefore of a command that he issued: the others simply received -orders without any commentary. There are instances known in which a -word of reasonable explanation to a subordinate would have enabled him -to understand a situation, and to comprehend why directions otherwise -incomprehensible were given him. Tiresome results occasionally -followed. This foible of refusing information to subordinates for no -adequate reason has been shared by other great generals—_e.g._ by -Stonewall Jackson, as Colonel Henderson’s biography of that strange -genius sufficiently shows. It is a trick of the autocratic mind. - -It hardly requires to be pointed out that this determination to allow -no liberty of action to his lieutenants, and to keep even small -decisions in his own hands, effectually prevented Wellington from -forming a school of generals capable of carrying out large independent -operations. He trained admirable divisional commanders, but not leaders -of armies. The springs of self-confidence were drained out of men who -had for long been subjected to his _régime_. - -[Sidenote: Wellington’s Dispatches] - -Probably the thing which irritated Wellington’s subordinates most -was his habit of making his official mention of names in dispatches -little more than a formal recital in order of the senior officers -present. Where grave mistakes had been committed, he still stuck -the names of the misdemeanants in the list, among those of the men -who had really done the work. A complete mystification as to their -relative merits would be produced, if we had only the dispatches to -read, and no external commentary on them. He honourably mentioned -Murray in his Oporto dispatch, Erskine in his dispatch concerning -the actions during Masséna’s retreat in 1811, Trip in his Waterloo -dispatch, though each of these officers had done his best to spoil the -operations in which he was concerned. On the other hand, he would make -the most unaccountable omissions: his Fuentes de Oñoro dispatch makes -no mention of the British artillery, which had done most brilliant -service in that battle, not merely in the matter of Norman Ramsay’s -well-known exploit, which Wellington might have thought too small a -matter to mention, but in the decisive checking of the main French -attack. There are extant heart-rending letters from the senior officers -commanding the artillery, deploring the way in which they have been -completely ignored: “to read the dispatch, there might have been no -British artillery present at all.” A similar inexplicable omission -of any record of zealous service occurs in Wellington’s dispatch -recording the fall of Badajoz, where no special praise of the services -of his engineer officers is made, though 50 per cent. of them had -been killed or wounded during the siege. “You may suppose we all feel -hurt at finding our exertions have not been deemed worthy of any sort -of eulogium,” writes John Jones, the historian of the sieges of the -Peninsula, to one of his colleagues. And Fletcher, the commanding -engineer, writes to a friend: “You will observe that Lord W. has -not mentioned the engineers in the late actions: how I hate such -capriciousness!”[56] The cold phrase in which their desperate service -was acknowledged is “the officers and men of the corps of engineers -and artillery were equally distinguished during the operations of -the siege and its close.” Fletcher would gladly have exchanged the -personal honour of a decoration, which was given him along with other -senior officers, for three lines of warm praise of the exertions of his -subordinates. - -[Sidenote: Lord Roberts on Wellington] - -Perhaps, however, the most astounding instance of Wellington’s -ungracious omissions is that his famous Waterloo dispatch contains -no mention whatever of the services of Colborne and the 52nd, the -battalion which gave the decisive stroke against the flank of the -Imperial Guard, during Napoleon’s last desperate assault on the British -line. Colborne, the most unselfish and generous of men, could never -forget this slight. He tried to excuse it, saying, “dispatches are -written in haste, and it is impossible for a general to do justice -to his army.” And when he heard his officers complaining that the -British Guards had been given all the credit for the final repulse of -the French column, he said, “For shame, gentlemen! One would think -that you forgot that the 52nd had ever been in battle before.” But -there was a bitter comment in the table talk of his later years. “The -Duke was occasionally not above writing in his dispatches to please -the aristocracy.... I don’t mean to say that this was peculiar to -him. It used to be a common thing with general officers.”[57] Enough, -however, of these illustrative anecdotes of the limitations of a very -great soldier and a very honourable man. They have to be mentioned in -order to explain how it came to pass that Wellington was implicitly -trusted, and never loved. But they compel me to acquiesce in the hard -judgment which Lord Roberts wrote in his _Rise of Wellington_—“the -more we go into his actions and his writings in detail, the more do -we respect and admire him as a general, and the less do we like him -as a man.” I conclude this paragraph with two quotations from two -eloquent writers who served through long years of the Peninsular -campaigns. “Thus terminated the war, and with it all remembrances -of the veteran’s services” are the last words of William Napier’s -penultimate chapter.[58] Grattan of the 88th, a forgotten writer now, -but one who wielded a descriptive pen no less vivid than Napier’s, -puts the complaint more bitterly. “In his parting General Order to -the Peninsular Army he told us that he would never cease to feel the -warmest interest for our welfare and honour. How that promise has -been kept every one knows. That the Duke of Wellington is one of the -most remarkable (perhaps the greatest) men of the present age, few -will deny. But that he neglected the interests and feelings of his -Peninsular army, as a body, is beyond all question. And were he in his -grave to-morrow, hundreds of voices that now are silent would echo what -I write.”[59] - -If I have dwelt perhaps at over-great length on the limitations of -Wellington’s heart, it is only fair that full credit should be given to -his wonderful powers of brain. To comprehend the actual merit of his -military career, it is not sufficient to possess a mere knowledge of -the details of his tactics and his strategy. The conditions under which -he had to exercise his talents were exceptionally trying and difficult. -When he assumed command at Lisbon on April 22, 1809, the French were in -possession of all Northern and Central Spain, and of no inconsiderable -part of Northern Portugal also. The Spanish armies had all been -dashed to pieces—there was no single one of them which had not -suffered a crushing defeat, and some of them (such as Cuesta’s army -of Estremadura, and La Romana’s army of Galicia) were at the moment -little better than wandering bands of fugitives. The British army of -which Wellesley took command when he landed at Lisbon, though it only -mustered 19,000 men present, or 21,000 including men in hospital, was -the only solid force, in good order and intact in _morale_, on which -the allies could count in the Iberian Peninsula. The task set before -Wellesley was to see if he could defend Portugal, and co-operate in the -protection of Southern Spain, it being obvious that the French were in -vastly superior numbers, and well able to take the offensive if they -should chose to do so. There were two armies threatening Lisbon. The -one under Soult had already captured Oporto and overrun two Portuguese -provinces, shortly before Wellesley’s landing. The other, under Victor, -lay in Estremadura close to the Portuguese border, and had recently -destroyed the largest surviving Spanish army at the battle of Medellin -on March 28. Was it possible that 19,000 British troops could save -the Peninsula from conquest, or even that they could keep up the war -in Central Portugal? Never was a more unpromising task set to the -commander of a small army. - -[Sidenote: Wellington’s Powers of Prescience] - -Fortunately we possess three documents from Wellesley’s own hand, which -show us the way in which he surveyed the position that was before him, -and stated his views as to the future course of the Peninsular War. -He recognized that it was about to be a very long business, and that -his task was simply to keep the war going as long as possible, with -the limited resources at his disposition. Ambitious schemes for the -expulsion of the French from the whole Peninsula were in 1809 perfectly -futile. The hypothesis which he sets forth in the first of the three -documents to which I allude, his _Memorandum on the Defence of -Portugal_, laid before Castlereagh on March 7, before he had taken ship -for Lisbon, is a marvel of prophetic genius. No more prescient document -was ever written. Rejecting the decision of Sir John Moore, who had -declared that Portugal was quite indefensible, Wellesley states that -a British army of not less than 30,000 men, backed by the levies of -Portugal, ought to be able to maintain itself for an almost indefinite -period on the flank of the French army in Spain. Its presence on the -Tagus would paralyse all offensive movements of the enemy, and enable -the Spaniards to make head in the unsubdued provinces of their realm, -so long as Portugal should remain intact. The French ought, if they -were wise, to turn all their disposable forces against the British -army and Portugal, but he believed that even then, when the geography -of the country was taken into consideration, they would fail in their -attempt to overrun it. They could not succeed, as he held, unless they -were able to set aside 100,000 men for the task, and he did not see how -in the spring of 1809 they could spare such a large detachment, out of -the forces which they then possessed in the Peninsula. If they tried it -with a smaller army, he thought that he could undertake to foil them. -He believed that he could cope with Soult and Victor, the two enemies -who immediately threatened Portugal.[60] - -Further forward it was impossible to look. If a war should break out -between Napoleon and Austria, as seemed likely at the moment in March, -1809, to one who (like himself) was in the secrets of the British -Cabinet, the Emperor would not be able to send reinforcements to -Spain for many a day. But, even so, the position of the French in the -Peninsula was so strong that it could only be endangered if a very -large allied force, acting in unison under the guidance of a single -general, should be brought to bear upon them. Of the collection of such -a force, and still more of the possibility of its being entrusted to -his own command, there was as yet no question. Wellesley was aware of -the jealousy of foreign interference which the Spanish Junta nurtured: -there was little probability that they would entrust him with the -supreme control over their armies. It was, indeed, only in 1812, -when he had acquired for himself a much greater reputation than he -owned in 1809, and when the Spanish Government had drunk the cup of -humiliation to the dregs, that he was finally given the position of -commander-in-chief of the Spanish armies. - -This memorandum is a truly inspired document, which shows Wellesley -at his best. It is not too much to say that it predicts the whole -course of the Peninsular War—whose central point was to be invasion of -Portugal in 1810 by a French army of 65,000 instead of the required -100,000 men, and that army, as he had foreseen, Wellesley was able to -check and foil. - -The second document of a prophetic sort that we have to notice is -Wellesley’s reply to Mr. Canning’s question to him as regards the -future general policy of the war, written on September 5, 1809. The -whole aspect of affairs had been much changed since March, by the fact -that Austria had tried her luck in a war against Napoleon, and had been -beaten at Wagram and forced to make peace. It was therefore certain -that the Emperor would now have his hands free again, and be able to -reinforce his armies in the Peninsula. Wellesley replies that it is -hopeless to attempt to defend both Southern Spain and Portugal also, -even if the British army were raised to 40,000 men. But Portugal can -still be defended.[61] He expresses the strongest objection to any -attempt to cover Andalusia and Seville, for to endeavour to do so must -mean that Lisbon would have to be given up. - -[Sidenote: The Lines of Torres Vedras] - -The third great prophetic despatch is the Memorandum of October -26, 1809, ordering the construction of the Lines of Torres Vedras. -Wellesley looks a full year ahead. He sees that Napoleon can now -reinforce his Spanish armies, but that the new troops cannot get up -till the next spring. When they appear, the British army will have to -retreat on Lisbon, where lines of such strength can be planned that -there is a good prospect of bringing the invaders to a stand. Meanwhile -the countryside shall be cleared of population and provisions, so that -the French, if they keep concentrated, must starve, and the allied -army shall so conduct its operations that the enemy will be compelled -to remain _en masse_. Then follow directions to Colonel Fletcher -(commanding the engineers) to make his plans for an immense line of -redoubts covering the Lisbon peninsula from sea to sea. What was -foreseen came to pass: the French reinforcements arrived: the invasion -of Portugal under Masséna took place in 1810. But the whole countryside -was swept clear of food, and when the marshal reached the Lines with -his half-starved army, he was completely blocked, refused to attack the -formidable positions, and, after a few weeks of endurance in front of -them, withdrew with his famished troops. It was on October 26, 1809, -that Wellington ordered the Lines to be laid out. On October 14, 1810, -Masséna appeared in front of them and was foiled: Wellington had made -his preparations exactly a year ahead! - -Careful long-sighted calculation was perhaps the Duke’s strongest -point. He had an immense grasp of detail, kept intelligence officers of -picked ability out on every front, and had compiled an almost exactly -correct muster-roll of the forces opposed to him. Seldom had a general -of his time such a complete knowledge of his adversaries, and this he -owed to the pains that he took to obtain it. His great scouts Colquhoun -Grant,[62] Waters, and Rumann were always far out to the front, often -within the French lines, sending him daily information, which he -filed and dissected. In addition he had many Spanish and Portuguese -correspondents, whose information would have been more valuable if it -had not contained too much hearsay, and if they had been able to judge -numbers with the trained eye of a soldier. Once he complained that he -and Marmont were almost equally handicapped as regards information from -the natives—for if the Frenchmen got none, he himself got too much: -the proportion of it which was inaccurate spoiled the value of the -rest. But Grant or Waters never made mistakes. Part of his system was -the cross-questioning of every deserter and prisoner as to the number -and brigading of his regiment, and the amount of battalions that it -contained. By constant comparison of these reports he got to know the -exact number of units in every French corps, and their average strength. - -But this was less important than his faculty for judging the individual -characters of his opponents. After a few weeks he got his fixed opinion -on Masséna or Victor, Soult or Marmont, and would lay his plans with -careful reference to their particular foibles. I think that this is -what he meant when he once observed that his own merit was, perhaps, -that he knew more of “what was going on upon the other side of the -hill,”—in the invisible ground occupied by the enemy and hidden by the -fog of war—than most men. - -[Sidenote: Wellington’s Insight into Character] - -This insight into the enemy’s probable move, when their strength, their -object, and the personal tendencies of their leader were known, was -a most valuable part of Wellesley’s mental equipment. The best known -instance where it came into play was on the day of Sorauren. In the -midst of the battles of the Pyrenees, when the British army had taken -up its fighting position, though its numbers were as yet by no means -complete, and two divisions were still marching up, Wellington arrived -from the west to assume command. He could see Soult on the opposite -hill surrounded by his staff, and it was equally certain that Soult -could see him, and knew the reason of the cheer which ran along the -front of the allied army as he rode up. Wellington judged, and rightly, -that the news of his arrival, and the sight of him in position, would -cause the marshal to delay his attack till the last of the French -reserves had come on the field. “I had an excellent glass: I saw him -spying at us—then write and send off a letter: _I knew what he would -be writing_, and gave my orders accordingly.”[63] Wellington judged -Soult a cautious general, knew that his own presence would redouble -his caution, and so judged that the order given by the marshal would -be for the checking of a threatened attack, which would have been very -dangerous at the moment, if it had been pressed. “The 6th Division will -have time to come up, and we shall beat him,” is said to have been his -comment, when he saw Soult hurriedly write and dispatch an order to his -front line. - -Wellington played off a similar piece of bluff on Marmont at Fuente -Guinaldo in September, 1811, when he drew up in a position strong -indeed, but over-great for the numbers that he had in hand, and seemed -to offer battle. He was aware that his own reputation for caution was -so great that, if the enemy saw him halt and take up his ground, they -would judge that he had concentrated his whole force, and would not -attack him till their own reserves were near. He absconded unmolested -in the night, while Marmont’s rear columns were toiling up for the -expected battle of the next day. - -For a long time in 1809–10 Wellesley had to assume a defensive -attitude. It was not till 1811 that it at last became possible for him -to think of taking the offensive, nor was it till 1812, the glorious -year of Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, and Salamanca, that the dream reached -its realization. Hence came it that for a long time he was regarded -only as a cautious and calculating general, a master of defensive -warfare. This conception of him was wrong; as events showed, in -1812–1813, that he could be a very thunderbolt of war, when propitious -chance gave him the opportunity, could strike the boldest blows, and -launch his army upon the enemy with the most ruthless energy. But, in -the earlier years of his command, he was always hopelessly outnumbered, -and forced to parry rather than to strike. He had to run no risks with -his precious little army, the 30,000 British troops on whom the whole -defence of the Peninsula really depended: because if it were destroyed -it could not be replaced. With these 30,000 men he had covenanted, in -his agreement with Castlereagh, when first he sailed to take command at -Lisbon, that he would keep up the war indefinitely. If by taking some -great risk he had lost 15,000 or even 10,000 men, the government would -have called him home, and would have given up the struggle. Thus he -had to fight with the consciousness that a single disaster might ruin -not only his own plans, but the whole cause of the allies in Spain. -No wonder that his actions seem cautious! Yet even in 1810–1811 he -took some serious risks, such as the offering of battle at Bussaco and -Fuentes de Oñoro. When even a partial defeat would mean his own recall, -and the evacuation of Portugal, it required no small resolution even -to face such chances as these. But his serene and equable temper could -draw the exact line between legitimate and over-rash enterprise, and -never betrayed him. - -[Sidenote: Wellington on the Offensive] - -All the more striking, therefore, was the sudden development into a -bold offensive policy which marked the commencement of that year of -victories 1812. The chance had at last come: Napoleon was ceasing to -pour reinforcements into Spain—the Russian War was beginning to loom -near at hand. The French no longer possessed their former overwhelming -superiority: in order to hold in check Wellington’s army, now at last -increased by troops from home to 40,000 British sabres and bayonets, -they had to concentrate from every quarter, and risk their hold on -many provinces in order to collect a force so large that the British -general could not dare to face it. At last, in the winter of 1811–1812, -Napoleon himself intervened as Wellington’s helper, by dispersing -his armies too broadcast. The actually fatal move was the sending of -15,000 of Marmont’s “Army of Portugal,” the immediate adversary of -the Anglo-Portuguese host, for a distant expedition to the coast of -the Mediterranean in aid of Marshal Suchet. It was the absence of -this great detachment, which could not return for many weeks, that -emboldened Wellington to make his first great offensive stroke, the -storming of Ciudad Rodrigo on January 19, 1812, after a siege of only -twelve days. - -Following on this first success came the dear-bought but decisive -success of the storming of Badajoz on April 7; this was a costly -business, because Wellington had to operate “against time,” since, if -he lingered over-long, the French armies from north and south would -combine, outnumber him, and drive him back into Portugal. Badajoz had -to be stormed by sheer force, before all the arts of the engineer and -artillerist had worked their full effect. The fire of the besieged had -not been subdued, nor had the approaches of the assailants been pushed -close up to the walls, as science would have dictated. But by making -three simultaneous attacks on different points of the fortress, and -succeeding at two of them, Wellington achieved his object and solved -his “time problem.” He showed here, for the first time, that he could, -if it was necessary, spend the lives of his men remorselessly, in order -to finish in a few days a task which, if much longer delayed, would -have had to be abandoned. This was to his French enemies a revelation -of a new side of his character. He had been esteemed one who refused -risks and would not accept losses. If they had known of the details of -his old Indian victory of Assaye, they would have judged his character -more truly. - -But Salamanca was the real revelation of Wellington’s full powers. It -was a lightning stroke, a sudden offensive movement made at a crisis of -momentary opportunity, which would have ceased if the hour had not been -seized with all promptitude. Wellington hurled his army unexpectedly -at the enemy, who was manœuvring in full confidence and tranquillity -in front of his line, thinking that he had to deal with an adversary -who might accept a battle (as at Vimeiro, Talavera, or Bussaco), but -might be trusted not to force one on. Salamanca surprised and dismayed -the more sagacious of the French officers. Foy, the most intelligent -observer among them, put down in his diary six days later, “This battle -is the most cleverly fought, the largest in scale, the most important -in results, of any that the English have won in recent times. It -brings up Lord Wellington’s reputation almost to the level of that of -Marlborough. Up to this day we knew his prudence, his eye for choosing -good positions, and the skill with which he used them. But at Salamanca -he has shown himself a great and able master of manœuvring. He kept -his dispositions hidden nearly the whole day: he allowed us to develop -our movement before he pronounced his own: he played a close game; he -utilized the “oblique order” in the style of Frederick the Great.... -The catastrophe of the Spanish War has come—for six months we ought to -have seen that it was quite probable.”[64] - -This is one of the most striking and handsome compliments ever paid -by a general of a beaten army to the commander of the victorious -adversaries. It is perfectly true, and it reflects the greatest credit -on Foy’s fair-mindedness and readiness to see facts as they were. The -conqueror of Salamanca was for the future a much more terrifying enemy -than the victor of Bussaco or Talavera had been. It is one thing to be -repulsed—that had often happened to the French before—another to be -suddenly assailed, scattered, and driven off the field with crushing -losses and in hopeless disorder, as happened to Wellington’s enemies -under the shadow of the Arapiles on July 22, 1812. - -Wellington as a great master of the offensive came into prominence -in 1812, and for the rest of the war it is this side of him which is -most frequently visible, though the retreat from Burgos shows that his -prudence was as much alive as ever. During the few days that preceded -that retreat there was very great temptation to try a hard stroke at -one of the French armies that were converging on the two halves of his -own force. Napoleon would undoubtedly have made the attempt. But, -Wellington, knowing that his own total numbers were much inferior to -those of the enemy, and that to concentrate in front of either Soult or -Souham would be to take a terrible risk on the other flank, preferred -a concentric retreat towards his base on the frontier of Portugal, to -a battle in the plains of Castille, where he was far from home and -support, and where a defeat might lead to absolute ruin. - -[Sidenote: The Campaigns of 1813–1814] - -This was the last time that he was outnumbered and forced back upon -his old methods. In 1813, owing to Napoleon’s drafts from the army -of Spain, which were called off to replace the troops lost in the -Moscow campaign, the allies had at last a superiority in numbers, -though that superiority consisted entirely in Spanish troops of -doubtful solidity. But even these were conditions far more favourable -than Wellington had ever enjoyed before—he knew how to use his newly -joined Spanish divisions in a useful fashion, without placing them in -the more dangerous and responsible positions. The campaigns of 1813 -and 1814 are both essentially offensive in character, though they -contain one or two episodes when Wellington was, for the moment, on -the defensive in his old style, notably the early part of the battles -of the Pyrenees, where, till his reserves came up, he was fending off -Soult by the use of his more advanced divisions. But the moment that -his army was assembled he struck hard, and chased the enemy over the -frontier, again in the series of operations that begun on the last day -of Sorauren. There was a very similar episode during the operations -that are generally known as the battle of the Nive, where Wellington -had twice to stand for a movement in position, while one of his wings -was assailed by Soult’s main body. But this was distinctly what we may -call defensive tactical detail, in a campaign that was essentially -offensive on the whole. The main character of the operations of 1813–14 -may be described as the clearing out of the enemy from a series of -positions—generally heavily fortified—by successful breaking through of -the lines which Soult on each occasion failed to hold. Invariably the -French army was nailed down to the position which it had taken up, by -demonstrations all along its front, while the decisive blow was given -at selected points by a mass of troops collected for the main stroke. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -WELLINGTON’S INFANTRY TACTICS—LINE _VERSUS_ COLUMN - - -Everyone who takes a serious interest in military history is aware -that, in a general way, the victories of Wellington over his French -adversaries were due to a skilful use of the two-deep line against -the massive column, which had become the usual fighting-formation for -a French army acting on the offensive, during the later years of the -great war that raged from 1792 till 1814. But I am not sure that the -methods and limitations of Wellington’s system are fully appreciated, -and they are well worth explaining. And on the other hand it would -not be true to imagine that all French fighting, without exception, -was conducted in column, or that blows delivered by the solid masses -whose aspect the English knew so well, were the only ideal of the -Napoleonic generals. It is not sufficient to lay down the general -thesis that Wellington found himself opposed by troops who invariably -worked in column, and that he beat those troops by the simple expedient -of meeting them, front to front, with other troops who as invariably -fought in the two-deep battle line. The statement is true in a general -way, but needs explanation and modification. - -The use of infantry in line was, of course, no invention of -Wellington’s, nor is it a universal panacea for all crises of war. -During the eighteenth century, from Marlborough to Frederic the Great, -all European infantry was normally fighting in line, three or four -deep, and looking for success in battle to the rapidity and accuracy -of its fire, not to the impetus of advances in heavy masses such as -had been practised by the pikemen of the sixteenth or seventeenth -century, and were to be introduced again by the French generals of the -Revolutionary period. Everyone knows how the victories of Frederic the -Great were in part to be attributed to the careful fire-drill of his -infantry, who, with their iron ramrods and rapid manual exercise, used -to put in a far larger and more effective discharge of musket-balls per -minute than their adversaries. But both parties were as a rule fighting -in three-deep line, Austrians no less than Prussians. Armies had a -stereotyped array, with infantry battalions deployed in long lines in -the centre, and heavy masses of cavalry covering the wings. A glance -at the battle-plans of the War of the Austrian Succession, or of the -Seven Years’ War, shows a marvellous similarity in the general tactical -arrangements of the rival hosts, and front-to-front collisions of long -parallel lines were quite common, though commanders of genius had their -own ways of varying the tactics of the day. Frederic the Great’s famous -“oblique order,” or advance in _échelon_, with the strong striking-wing -brought forward, and the weaker “containing-wing” held back and -refused, is sufficiently well known. Occasionally he was able to vary -it, as at Rossbach and Leuthen, and to throw the greater part of his -troops across the enemy’s flank at right angles, so as to roll him up -in detail. But these were “uncovenanted mercies” obtained owing to the -abnormal sloth or unskilfulness of the opposing general. Torgau needs a -special word of mention, as Frederic’s only battle fought of choice in -a thoroughly irregular formation. - -There were one or two cases in the old eighteenth-century wars of -engagements won by the piercing of a hostile centre, such as Marshal -Saxe’s victory of Roucoux (1746), and we may find, in other operations -of that great general, instances of the use of deep masses, battalion -deployed behind battalion, for the attack of a chosen section of -the hostile position, and others where a line of deployed infantry -was flanked or supported by units practically in column. But this -was exceptional—as exceptional as the somewhat similar formation of -Cumberland’s mass of British and Hanoverian infantry at Fontenoy, -which, though often described as a column, had originally consisted of -three successive lines of deployed battalions, which were ultimately -constricted into a mass by lateral pressure. Some of Marshal Broglie’s -and Ferdinand of Brunswick’s fights during the Seven Years’ War were -also fought in a looser order of battle than was normal. - -Normally the tactics of the eighteenth century were directed to the -smashing up of one of the enemy’s wings, either by outflanking it, -or by assailing it with very superior forces, while the rest of the -enemy’s army was “contained” by equal or inferior numbers, according -as the assailant had more or less troops than his enemy. The decisive -blow was very frequently delivered by a superior force of cavalry -concentrated upon the striking wing, which commenced the action by -breaking down the inferior hostile cavalry, and then turned in upon the -flank of the infantry of the wing which it had assailed. Such a type of -battle may sometimes be found much later, even in the Peninsular War, -where Ocaña was a perfect example of it. - -[Sidenote: Frederic II. and Marshal Saxe] - -Speaking roughly, however, the period of set battles fought by enemies -advancing against each other in more or less parallel lines ended with -the outbreak of the war of the French Revolution. There had been a -fierce controversy in France from 1775 to 1791 between the advocates -of the linear, or Frederician, battle-order—headed by General Guibert, -and the officers who wished to introduce a deeper formation, which they -claimed to have learnt from the instructions of Marshal Saxe—of whom -the chief was General Menil-Durand. The former school had triumphed -just before the war began, and the _Réglement d’Infanterie_ of 1791 -accepted all their views. It was on this drill-book that the French -infantry stood to fight in the following year, when the war on the -Rhine and in Belgium began.[65] - -But the attempt of the first generals of Revolutionary France to fight -on the old linear system was a failure. The troops of the Republic had -been demoralized by the removal or desertion of the greater proportion -of their commissioned officers, and their _cadres_ had been hastily -filled with half-trained recruits. At the same time hundreds of new -units, the battalions of volunteers, had been formed on no old _cadre_ -at all, but, with officers and men alike little better than untrained -civilians, took the field along with the reorganized remains of the old -royal army. It is hardly necessary to remark, that these raw armies -suffered a series of disgraceful defeats at the hands of the Austrian -and other allied troops in 1792–93. They were beaten both in tactics, -in manœuvring, and in fire-discipline by the well-drilled veteran -battalions to which they were opposed. - -The French Republic, when it came under the control of the Jacobins, -tried to set matters right by accusing its generals of treason, and -arrested and guillotined a considerable proportion of the unfortunate -commanders-in-chief to whom its armies had been entrusted. But neither -this heroic device, nor the sending to the armies of the well known -“representatives _en mission_” from the National Assembly, who were to -stimulate the energy of the generals, had satisfactory results. As the -representatives were generally as ignorant of military affairs as they -were self-important and autocratic, they did no more than confuse and -harass the unhappy generals on whom they were inflicted. - -One thing, however, the Jacobin government did accomplish: it pushed -into the field reinforcements in such myriads that the armies of -the allies were hopelessly outnumbered on every frontier. The first -successes of the Republican armies in the North were won by brute -force, by heaping double and triple numbers upon the enemy. And the new -tactics of the Revolutionary leaders were evolved from a consciousness -of superiority in this respect, a determination to swamp troops that -manœuvred better than their own, by hurling preponderant masses upon -them, regardless of the losses that must necessarily be suffered. For -they had inexhaustible reserves behind them, from the newly-decreed -levies _en masse_, while the bases of the allies were far off, and -their trained men, when destroyed, could only be replaced slowly and -with difficulty. - -[Sidenote: Tactics of the French Revolution] - -When the generals of the Revolution threw away the old linear tactics -learned in the school of Frederic the Great, as inapplicable to troops -that could not manœuvre with the same speed and accuracy as their -enemies, the improvised system that succeeded was a brutal and wasteful -one, but had the merit of allowing them to utilize their superiority -of numbers. It is possible that those of them who reasoned at all upon -the topic—and reasoning was not easy in that strenuous time, when a -commander’s head sat lightly on his shoulders—saw that they were in a -manner utilizing the idea that had been tried in a tentative way by -Maurice de Saxe, and by one or two other generals of the old wars—the -idea that for collision in long line on a parallel front, partial -attacks in heavy masses on designated points might be substituted. But -it is probable that there was more of improvisation than of deliberate -tactical theory in the manœuvres of even the best of them. - -The usual method was to throw at the hostile front a very thick -skirmishing line, which sheathed and concealed a mass of heavy columns, -concentrated upon one or two critical points of the field. The idea -was that the front line of _tirailleurs_ would so engage the enemy, -and keep him occupied all along his front, that at the crucial section -of the combat the supporting columns would get up to striking distance -with practically no loss, and could be hurled, while still intact, upon -those points of the hostile array which it was intended to pierce; they -would go through by their mere impetus and weight, since they were only -exposed to fire for a few minutes, and could endure the loss suffered -in that time without losing their _élan_ or their pace. The essential -part of the system was the enormously thick and powerful skirmishing -line: whole battalions were dispersed in chains of _tirailleurs_, who -frankly abandoned any attempt at ordered movement, took refuge behind -cover of all sorts, and were so numerous that they could always drive -in the weak skirmishing line of the enemy, and get closely engaged with -his whole front. The orderly battalion-volleys of the Austrian, or -other allied troops opposed to them, did comparatively little harm to -these swarms, who were taking cover as much as possible, and presented -no closed body or solid mark for the musketry fire poured upon them. -It looks as if the proper antidote against such a swarm-attack would -have been local and partial cavalry charges, by squadrons judiciously -inserted in the hostile line, for nothing could have been more -vulnerable to a sudden cavalry onslaught than a disorderly chain of -light troops. On many occasions in the campaigns of 1792–93 the French -infantry had shown itself very helpless against horsemen who pushed -their charge home, not only in cases where it was caught unprepared, -but even when it had succeeded in forming square with more or less -promptitude.[66] But this particular remedy against the swarm-attack -does not seem to have been duly employed, and indeed many parts of -Flanders are so cut up by small enclosures, that the use of cavalry as -a universal panacea might often have proved impossible. - -[Sidenote: Tactics of the French Column] - -The masses which supported the thick lines of _tirailleurs_ were formed -either in columns of companies or columns of “divisions,” _i.e._ double -companies.[67] In the former case the eight companies, each three deep, -were drawn up behind each other. In the latter the front was formed by -a “division,” and the depth was only twelve men. In either case none -but the two front ranks could use their firearms properly, and the rest -were useless save for the impetus that they gave the rolling mass. But -such a column, when properly sheathed by the skirmishing line till the -last moment, generally came with a very effective rush against the -allied line opposed to it, which would have been already engaged with -the _tirailleurs_ for some time, and had probably been much depleted -by their fire. It is equally clear that, without its protective sheath -of skirmishers, such a heavy column would have been a very clumsy -instrument of war, since it combined the minimum of shooting power -with the maximum of vulnerability. But when so shielded, the columns -which attacked in masses at a decisive spot, leaving the rest of the -hostile line “contained” by an adequate force, had a fair chance of -penetrating, though the process of penetration might during the last -two or three minutes be very costly to the troops forming the head of -the column. - -The best early summary of this change in French tactics which I know -occurs in an anonymous English pamphlet published in 1802, which puts -the matter in a nutshell. “The French army was composed of troops of -the line without order, and of raw and undisciplined volunteers. They -experienced defeats in the beginning, but in the meantime war was -forming both officers and soldiers. In an open country they took to -forming their armies in columns instead of lines, which they could not -preserve without difficulty. They reduced battles to attacks on certain -points, where brigade succeeded brigade, and fresh troops supplied -the places of those who were driven back, till they were enabled to -force the post, and make the enemy give way. They were fully aware -that they could not give battle in regular order, and sought to reduce -engagements to important affairs of posts: this plan has succeeded. -They look upon losses as nothing, provided they attain their end; they -set little store by their men, because they have the certainty of being -able to replace them, and the customary superiority of their numbers -affords them an advantage which can only be counterbalanced by great -skill, conduct, and activity.”[68] - -After 1794, when the Republican armies had won their first series -of great successes, and had driven their enemies behind their own -frontiers, there is a distinct change in the tactical conceptions -of the French. The troops had improved immensely in morale and -self-confidence: a new race of generals had appeared, who were neither -obsessed by reminiscences of the system of Frederic the Great, like -some of their predecessors, nor spurred to blind violence and the -brutal expenditure of vast numbers of men like certain others. The -new generals modified the gross and unscientific methods of the -Jacobin armies of 1793–94, which had won victory indeed, but only by -the force of numbers and with reckless loss of life. There remained -as a permanent lesson, however, from the earlier campaigns two -principles—the avoidance of dispersion and extension, by which armies -“cover everything and protect nothing,” and the necessity of striking -at crucial points rather than delivering “linear” battles, fought out -at equal intensity along the whole front. In general French tactics -became very supple, the units manœuvring with a freedom which had been -unknown to earlier generations. The system of parting an army into -divisions, now introduced as a regular organization,[69] gave to the -whole army a power of independent movement unknown in the days when -a line of battle was considered a rigid thing, formed of brigades -ranged elbow to elbow, none of which ought to move without the direct -orders of the general-in-chief. A front might be composed of separate -divisions coming on the field by different roads, and each adopting -its own formation, the only necessity being that there should be no -great gaps left between them. As a matter of fact this last necessary -precaution was by no means always observed, and there are cases in -the middle, and even the later, years of the Revolutionary War, in -which French generals brought their armies upon the field in such -disconnected bodies, and with such want of co-operation and good -timing, that they were deservedly defeated in detail.[70] Bonaparte -himself is liable to this charge for his order of attack at Marengo, -where he committed himself to a general action before the column of -Desaix was near enough to the field, and as nearly as possible suffered -a crushing reverse for the want of a mass of troops whose action was -absolutely necessary to him. Hoche, Jourdan, and Moreau (the last -especially), all committed similar mistakes from time to time. But -these errors were at least better than an adhesion to the stereotyped -tactics of the older generation, where formal set orders of battle had -been thought absolutely necessary. - -[Sidenote: Disadvantages of the Column] - -As a rule we find the French operating in the later years of the -Republic with methods very different from those of 1793, with skill -and swiftness, no longer with the mere brute force of numerical -superiority, winning by brilliant manœuvring rather than by mere -bludgeon work. Yet, oddly enough, there was no formal revision of -official tactics; the _Reglement d’Infanterie_ which had been drawn -up in 1791, whose base was the old three-deep line of Frederic the -Great, had never been disowned, even when it was for the most part -disregarded, in the period when swarm-attacks of _tirailleurs_, -supported by monstrous heavy columns, had become, perforce, the -practical method of the French armies. When that unsatisfactory time -passed by, the same old drill-book continued to be used, and was no -longer so remote from actual practice as it had been. For the use of -the deployed battalion began to come up again, as the handiness of the -troops increased, and their self-reliance was restored. Only the early -Revolutionary War had left two marks upon French tactics—for hard and -heavy work, such as the forcing of passes, or bridges, or defiles, -or the breaking of a crucial point in the enemy’s line, the deep -column remained habitually employed: while the old idea of the orderly -continuous line of battle was gone for ever, or almost gone, for (oddly -enough) in Napoleon’s last and least lucky fight, Waterloo, the order -of the imperial host was more like the trim and symmetrical array of a -Frederician army than any French line of battle that had been seen for -many a year. Certainly it would have pleased the eye of the Prussian -king much better than the apparently irregular, though carefully -thought out, plans of battle on which Jena or Wagram, Borodino or -Bautzen were won. - -[Sidenote: The “Ordre Mixte”] - -It would be doing injustice to Napoleon to represent him as a -general whose main tactical method rested solely on the employment -of massive columns for the critical operation on each battlefield. -He was quite aware that infantry ought to operate by its fire, and -that every man in the rear ranks is a musket wasted. If the Emperor -had any favourite formation it was the _ordre mixte_, recommended by -Guibert far back before his own day, in which a certain combination -of the advantages of line and column was obtained, by drawing up the -brigade or regiment with alternate battalions in line three-deep and -in column. This formation gave a fair amount of frontal fire from the -alternate deployed battalions, while the columns dispersed among them -gave solidity, and immunity from a flank attack by cavalry, which -might otherwise roll up the line. If, for example, a regiment of three -battalions of 900 men each were drawn up in the _ordre mixte_, with one -deployed battalion flanked by two battalions in column, it had about -730 men in the firing line, while if arranged in three columns, it -would only have had about 200 able to use their muskets freely. Still, -at the best, this formation was heavy, since all the serried back-ranks -of the flanking battalions had no power to join in the fusillade. For -simple fire-effect it was as inferior to the line as it was superior to -the mere column. - -Napoleon, however, was certainly fond of it. From the crossing of the -Tagliamento (1797), when he is first recorded to have used it, he made -very frequent employment of it. In a dispatch to Soult, sent him just -before Austerlitz, he directed him to use it “_autant que faire se -pourra_.” It is curious, however, to note that the marshal, less than a -week after, having to strike the decisive blow in that battle, did not, -after all, use the _ordre mixte_, but fought in lines of battalions in -“columns of divisions,” as he particularly mentions in his report to -the Emperor.[71] - -But the _ordre mixte_ was certainly employed again and again, not only -in those parts of the battle where Napoleon was simply “containing” his -enemy, and where he was merely keeping up the fight and pinning the -adversary to his position, but also on the crucial points, where he was -endeavouring to deal his main blow. We have notes to the effect that -Lannes’ Corps at Jena, Augereau’s at Eylau, and Victor’s at Friedland, -which were all “striking forces,” not “containing forces,” used this -formation. Its supposed solidity did not always save it from disaster, -as was seen in the second of the cases quoted above, where Augereau’s -whole corps, despite of its battalions in column, was ridden down by a -flank attack of Russian cavalry, charging covered by a snowstorm. - -In spite, however, of Napoleon’s theoretical preference for the _ordre -mixte_, and his knowledge that the column was a costly formation to -employ against an enemy whose fire was not subdued, it is certain that -he used it frequently, not only for the forcing of bridges or defiles -(as at Arcola and Ebersberg[72]), but for giving the final blow at a -point where he was determined to break through, and where the enemy was -holding on with tiresome persistence. At Wagram the flank-guards of -Macdonald’s conquering advance were formed by 13 battalions in solid -column, one behind the other, though its front consisted of eight -deployed battalions. Friant’s division on the right wing also attacked -with three regiments formed “_en colonne serrée par bataillons_.” -At Friedland, Ney’s right division (Marchand) came to the front in -a single file of ten battalions one behind the other, and never got -deployed, but attacked in mass and was checked. In 1812 and 1813 -advance in heavy masses was usual—whole regiments formed in “column -of divisions,” battalion behind battalion,[73] with only 200 yards’ -distance between regiment and regiment. - -Napoleon was quite aware of the disadvantages of such formations, -“même en plaine,” he observed in a celebrated interview with Foy, “les -colonnes n’enfoncent les lignes qu’autant qu’elles sont appuyées par -le feu d’une artillerie très supérieure, qui prépare l’attaque.”[74] -And his advances in column were habitually prepared by a crushing -artillery fire on the point which he was about to assail, a fire which -he himself, as an old artillery officer, knew how to direct with the -greatest accuracy and efficiency. It seems that he relied much more -on such preparation by concentrated batteries for the shielding of -his columns, than on sheathing them by a thick skirmishing line, the -old device of the generals of the Republic. An enemy’s firing line -might be occupied and demoralized by shot and shell, as well as by a -screen of skirmishers. Jena, indeed, seems to be about the only one -of his battles in which a hostile line was masked and depleted by a -heavy _tirailleur_ attack, before the columns in support charged and -routed it. Often the light infantry seems to have been practically -non-existent, and it was artillery and formed battalions alone which -fought out the engagement. French generals in the imperial campaigns -appear habitually to have used for the skirmishing line no more than -the _Voltigeur_ company of each battalion,[75] a force making one-ninth -of the whole unit only, till the number of companies was cut down in -1808 from nine to six, when the _Voltigeurs_ became one-sixth of the -total. We are very far, by 1805 or 1809, from the day of the great -“swarm-attacks” of the early Republic. - -[Sidenote: Tactics of Napoleon’s Generals] - -It was the tactics of the Empire, not those of the Republic, which -Wellington had to face, when he took command of the allied army in -the Peninsula in 1809. He had to take into consideration an enemy -whose methods were essentially offensive, whose order of infantry -fighting was at the best—in the _ordre mixte_—rather heavy, and in -many cases, when the column of the battalion or the regiment was used, -exceptionally gross and crowded. He knew that the enemy would have a -far more numerous cavalry than was at his own disposition, and that -it would be used with reckless boldness—the cavalry stroke in the -Napoleonic battle accompanied, if it did not precede, the infantry -stroke. Moreover, the French army would have a very powerful and -effective artillery, trained to prepare the way for infantry attacks -by the greatest artillerist in the world. His own proportion of guns -to infantry was ridiculously low: there was not even one battery per -division in 1809. - -What was there to oppose to this dangerous enemy in the way of -tactical efficiency? Roughly speaking we may say that the one point of -superiority on which Wellesley counted, and counted rightly, was the -superiority of the English formation for infantry in the two-deep line -to the heavier order of the enemy’s battalions. For this formation he -was, of course, not responsible himself: he took it over as an accepted -thing, and thought that he knew how to turn it to the best account. - -The effects of the French War on British tactics had been notable and -interesting. The first reflections published on the new type of war -on this side of the Channel seem to have been mainly inspired by the -experience of the Duke of York’s army in 1793–94, when the thick chains -of _tirailleurs_, which formed the protective screen, or first line, -of the Republican armies, had done so much damage to troops which -fought them in the old three-deep order, adopted from Frederic the -Great, without any sufficient counter-provision of skirmishers. We find -early in the war complaints that the British forces had no adequate -proportion of light troops—that the one light company per battalion, -normally used, was wholly unable to prevent the French _tirailleur_ -swarm from pressing up to the main line, and doing it much harm -before the real attack was delivered. Two remedies were proposed—the -first was that the proportion of light companies in a battalion -should be increased from one to two,[76] or that in each regiment a -certain number of men should be selected for good marksmanship, and -taught light infantry drill, while still remaining attached to their -companies. Of these proposals the first was never tried: the second was -actually practised by certain colonels, who trained fifteen or twenty -men per company as skirmishers: they were called “flankers,” and were -to go out along with the light company. The only British battle where -I have found them specially mentioned is Maida, where their mention -illustrates the danger of the system. Generals wanting more light -troops habitually purloined the light companies of regiments to make -“light battalions”; but not only did they do this, but they sometimes -even stole the “flankers” also from the centre companies. Stuart had -at Maida not only the light companies, but also the “flankers” of -regiments left behind in Sicily, which had therefore been deprived of -every marksman that they possessed—an execrable device. The system, -however, was only tentative; it soon disappeared; Wellington never -skimmed the centre companies of their good shots, though he did -occasionally create a light battalion of light companies—even this was -exceptional. - -[Sidenote: British use of Light Troops] - -But there was a second alternative course open to the British: instead -of developing more skirmishers in each battalion, they might create -new light-infantry corps, or turn whole units of the line into light -troops. For the former there was good precedent: in the War of the -American Revolution the British generals had of necessity embodied -corps of riflemen, to oppose to the deadly marksmen from the backwoods -who formed the most efficient part of the American armies. Such -were Simcoe’s Rangers, and the dismounted part of Tarleton’s famous -Legion—whose remainder consisted of veritable mounted infantry—the -first of their sort in the British army, since dragoons had forgotten -their old trade and become cavalry of the line. But all the Rangers, -etc., had been disbanded in 1783, and their use seems to have been -forgotten before the French War began; the system had to begin again -_de novo_. It was not till 1798 that the first British rifle battalion -was created, to wit the 5th Battalion of the 60th Regiment, or Royal -Americans, which was formed as a Jäger unit out of the remains of -many defunct foreign light corps in British pay: it remained mainly -German in composition even during the Peninsular War. This was the -first green-coated battalion; the second was Coote Manningham’s -“Experimental Rifle Corps,” formed in January, 1800, and finally taken -into the service after some vicissitudes, as the 95th—a name famous -in Peninsular annals, though now almost obliterated by its new title -of the “Rifle Brigade.” The regiment was enlarged to three battalions -before it came into Wellington’s hands. Later on, though the number of -rifle corps was not increased, yet an addition was made to the light -troops of the British army by turning certain picked battalions into -light infantry. They were armed with a special musket of light weight, -not with a rifle, and all the companies equally were instructed in -skirmishing work. The first corps so treated was the 90th or Perthshire -Light Infantry, which received the title in 1794. The precedent was -not, however, acted on again till in 1803, the 43rd and 52nd, the -famous regiments of the Peninsular Light Division, were honoured with -the same designation. The last additions during the period of the -Napoleonic wars were the 68th and 85th in 1808, and the 51st and 71st -in 1809. Most of these corps had two battalions, but, even so, the -provision of light infantry was not large for an army which had then -nearly 200 battalions embodied. There were also some foreign corps to -be taken into consideration, which stood on the British muster-rolls, -such as the two Light Battalions of the King’s German Legion, the -Brunswick Oels Jägers, and the Chasseurs Britanniques, who all four -served in the Peninsula. All these save the last were created after -1803: but at least during the second period of the great French War, -our armies were not practically destitute of light troops, as they were -in 1793. We shall see that this had no small importance in Wellington’s -tactical devices. - -[Sidenote: The British Two-deep Line] - -The other lesson that might possibly have been deduced from the -campaigns of the earlier years of the great war was the efficacy of -columns for striking at the critical points of an enemy’s line. The -continental enemies of France were affected by what they had seen -of this sort of success, and often copied the formation of their -adversaries. But it is notable that the old and wholesome prejudice of -the British in favour of the line was in no way disturbed by what had -happened of late. The idea that the column was a clumsy and expensive -formation was not shaken, and the theory that infantry ought to win by -the rapidity and accuracy of its shooting, and that every musket not -in the firing-line was wasted, continued to prevail. The reply of the -British to the _ordre mixte_ was to reduce the depth of the deployed -battalion from three ranks to two, because it had been discovered -that the fire of the third rank was difficult, dangerous to those in -front, and practically ineffective. Sir David Dundas’s drill-book -of 1788 with its Prussian three ranks, which had been the official -guide of the British infantry of late, was not formally cancelled at -first, but it was practically disregarded, and the army went back -to the two-rank array, which it had habitually used in the American -War, and had abandoned with regret. Apparently the Duke of York did -not altogether approve this change: he at least once issued a General -Order, to remind colonels that the formation in three ranks was still -officially recognized and ought not to be forgotten. But the permission -given by an order in 1801, that inspecting officers might allow -regiments to appear “even at reviews” in the two ranks, probably marked -the practical end of the Prussian system.[77] It had certainly been -disused by many officers long before that date, and it is certain that -in Abercrombie’s Egyptian campaign the double instead of the triple -rank was in general use.[78] British military opinion had decided that -fire was everything, and that the correct answer to the French columnar -attack was to put more men into the firing line. - -A conclusive proof of the efficacy of the double when opposed to the -triple rank was very clearly given at the half-forgotten Calabrian -battle of Maida, three years after the commencement of the second half -of the great French War. At this fight the French General Reynier -had deployed the whole, or the greater part, of his battalions, who -were not as usual fighting either in _ordre mixte_ or in battalion -column. The result was very decisive—5000 British infantry in the -thinner formation received the attack of 6000 French in the heavier, -and inflicted on them, purely by superior fire-efficiency, one of the -most crushing defeats on a small scale that was ever seen, disabling or -taking 2000 men, with a total loss to themselves of only 320.[79] It is -worth while remembering that some of the officers who were afterwards -to be Wellington’s trusted lieutenants were present at Maida, including -Cole, Kempt, Oswald, and Colborne.[79] This was about the only instance -that I know where English and French came into action both deployed, -and on a more or less parallel front. Usually it was a case of “column -against line.” - -[Sidenote: Wellington’s System] - -Sir Arthur Wellesley had been nine years absent in India before he -returned to England in 1805, so that he had to learn the difference -between the Republican and the Imperial armies by new experience. The -problem had long been interesting him. Before he left Calcutta he is -said to have remarked to his confidants that the French were sweeping -everything before them in Europe by the use of column formations, but -that he was convinced that the column could, and would, be beaten by -the line. What he heard after his return to England evidently confirmed -him in this opinion. A conversation which he had with Croker, just -before he set sail on the expedition which was to end at Vimeiro, -chances to have been preserved in the latter’s papers, under the date, -June 14, 1808. Sitting silent, lost in reverie for a long time, he was -asked by Croker the subject of his thoughts. “To say the truth,” he -replied, “I am thinking of the French I am going to fight. I have not -seen them since the campaigns in Flanders [1793–94] when they were -capital soldiers, and a dozen years of victory under Bonaparte must -have made them better still. ’Tis enough to make one thoughtful. But -though they may overwhelm me, I don’t think that they will outmanœuvre -me. First, because I am not afraid of them, as every one else seems -to be, and secondly, because (if all I hear about their system is -true) I think it a false one against steady troops. I suspect all the -continental armies are half-beaten before the battle begins. I at least -will not be frightened beforehand.” - -Wellesley went out to Portugal, there to try what could be done with -steady troops against the “French system.” But it would be to convey a -false impression of his meaning if we were to state that he simply went -out to beat column with line—though the essential fact is sufficiently -true. He went out to try his own conception of the proper way to use -the line formation, which had its peculiarities and its limitations. -The chief of these were that— - -(1) The line must not be exposed before the moment of actual conflict: -_i.e._ it must be kept under cover as much as possible. - -(2) That till the critical moment it must be screened by a line of -skirmishers impenetrable to the enemy’s _tirailleurs._ - -(3) That it must be properly covered on its flanks, either by the -nature of the ground, or by cavalry and artillery. - -When we investigate all his earlier pitched battles, we shall see that -each of these three requisites was as far as possible secured. - -(1) It was necessary for success that the line should be kept concealed -from the enemy’s distant fire of artillery and infantry as long as -possible. Hence we find that one of the most marked features of -Wellesley’s many defensive battles was that he took up, whenever it was -feasible, a position which would mask his main line, and show nothing -to the enemy but his skirmishers and possibly his artillery, for the -latter having to operate before the infantry fighting began, and being -obliged to take up positions which would command the ground over which -the enemy must advance, were often visible from the first. At Vimeiro, -Wellesley so concealed his army that Junot, thinking to turn his left -flank, found his turning column itself outflanked by troops moved under -cover behind a skyline. At Bussaco, Masséna, no mean general, mistook -Wellington’s centre for his extreme right, and found his attacking -columns[80] well outflanked when the attack had been pressed to its -issue. At Salamanca it was much the same; the main part of the British -line was well concealed behind a low ridge of hills, while Pakenham’s -division and its attendant cavalry, the force which executed the great -stroke, were concealed in a wooded tract, far outside the French -marching column that vainly thought to get round the allied right -wing. At Waterloo, the clearest case of all, the whole of Wellington’s -infantry of the front line was so far drawn back from the edge of -the slope that it was invisible, till the enemy had climbed to the -brow of the plateau on which it was arrayed. Only the artillery, the -skirmishing line, and the troops in the outlying posts of Hougoumont -and La Haye Sainte could be made out by Napoleon’s eye. Talavera, as I -shall mention below, is the only exception to this general rule in the -Duke’s defensive battles. - -[Sidenote: The Advantages of Cover] - -Wellington’s ideal position was a rising ground with a long _glacis_ -of slope in front, and a plateau or a dip behind it. The infantry was -drawn back from the skyline, and placed behind the crest, if the hill -were saddle-backed, or some hundreds of yards away from the edge, if it -were flat-topped. There they stood or lay till they were wanted, secure -from artillery fire: they moved forward to their actual fighting ground -only when the fire-combat of infantry was to begin. Every one will -remember Wellington’s caustic comment on the Prussian order of battle -at Ligny, where Blücher had drawn out his army in a chequered array -all along the declivity of a descending slope. “Damnably mauled these -fellows will be—every man visible to the enemy.”[81] Or in more solemn -phrase, as he afterwards consigned it to paper: “I told the Prussian -officers, in the presence of Colonel Hardinge, that according to my -judgment, the exposure of the advanced columns, and indeed of the army, -to cannonade, standing as they did displayed to the aim of the enemy’s -fire, was not prudent.”[82] - -By the end of the Peninsular War, as I have already had occasion to -observe, it had become so well known to the French that Wellington’s -army, ready for a battle, would be under cover, that he was able, as at -Fuente Guinaldo in 1811, and at Sorauren in 1813, to play off on them -the trick of offering to fight in a half-manned position, because he -knew that they would take it for granted that the ground invisible to -them was held by an adequate force. There is an interesting testimony -to the same effect in the Waterloo campaign. On the morning before the -battle of Quatre Bras began, General Reille, a veteran of the Spanish -war, remained halted for some time before a position held by nothing -but a single Dutch-Belgian division, because (as he expressed it), “Ce -pourrait bien être une bataille d’Espagne—les troupes Anglaises se -montreraient quand il en serait temps.”[83] This was the lesson taught -by many years of Peninsular experience—but on this occasion it chanced -to be singularly ill applied—since a vigorous push would have shown -Reille that there were as yet no red-coats concealed behind the trees -of the Bois de Bossu. - -It was only when absolute necessity compelled, owing to there being no -cover available in some parts of his chosen position, that Wellington -very occasionally left troops in his battle-front visible to the -enemy, and exposed to artillery fire from a distance. The best known -instance of this occurred with his centre brigades at Talavera, who -were unmasked perforce, because between the strong hill which protected -his left, and the olive groves which covered his right, there were -many hundred yards of open ground, without any serviceable dips or -undulations to conceal the line. And this was almost the only battle in -which we find record of his troops having suffered heavily by artillery -fire before the clash of infantry fighting began.[84] - -(2) The second postulate of Wellington’s system was, as I have remarked -above, that the infantry of his battle-line must be covered by such -a powerful screen of skirmishers, that the enemy’s advanced line of -_tirailleurs_ should never be able to get near enough to it to cause -any real molestation, and that it should not be seriously engaged -before the French supporting columns came up to deliver the main -attack. His old experience in Flanders in 1794 had taught him that the -line cannot contend at advantage with a swarm of light troops, who -yield when charged, but return the moment that the charge has stopped -and the line has drawn back to its original position. There were evil -memories of this sort not only from Flanders, but from the Egyptian -Expedition of 1801, when Abercrombie’s less engaged brigades suffered -severely at the battle of Alexandria from the incessant fire of -skirmishers at long range, to whom no proper opposition was made.[85] - -The device which Wellesley practised was to make sure that he should -always have a skirmishing screen of his own, so strong that the French -_tirailleurs_ should never be able to force it in and to get close to -the main line. The moment that he had assumed command in April, 1809, -he set to work to secure this _desideratum_. His first measure was to -add to every brigade in his army an extra company of trained riflemen, -to reinforce the three light companies of the brigade.[86] In April, -1809, he broke up the oldest rifle battalion in the British army, the -fifth of the 60th regiment, and began to distribute a company of it to -each of his brigades, save to those of the King’s German Legion, which -were served by special rifle companies of their own.[87] Thus each of -the brigades which fought at Talavera had a special extra provision of -light troops. Furthermore, when the new Light Division was instituted -on the 1st of March, 1810, each of its two brigades was given a number -of companies of the 95th rifles: and of the other brigades formed in -1810–11 most were provided with an extra light company by means of -taking fractions from the 95th or the newly arrived Brunswick Oels -Jägers, and those which were not, had light-infantry corps of their own -inside them. But this was not all.[88] - -[Sidenote: Ample Provision of Light Troops] - -In the summer of 1810, Wellington began the system of incorporating -a Portuguese brigade of five battalions in each British division. Of -these five one was always[89] a Caçador or light battalion, specially -trained for skirmishing. The old Portuguese army had not included -such battalions, which were all newly raised corps, intended entirely -for light infantry work. There were originally only six of them, but -Wellington ordered a second six to be raised in 1811, utilizing as -the cadre of the 7th, 8th, 9th the old Loyal Lusitanian Legion, which -Sir Robert Wilson had formed early in the war. As the Portuguese army -contained just twenty-four regiments of the line, in twelve brigades, -the Caçador battalion gave precisely one unit to each brigade, save -that two were incorporated in the Light Division, while none was left -with the two regiments which remained behind in garrison at Abrantes -and at Cadiz respectively. - -As the Caçador battalions were essentially light troops, and used -wholly for skirmishing, it resulted that when an Anglo-Portuguese -division of the normal strength of six British and five Portuguese -battalions set itself in battle array, it sent out a skirmishing line -of no less than eight British and ten Portuguese companies, viz. one -each from the line battalions, two of British rifles, six of Caçadores, -or a total of from 1200 to 1500 men to a total strength of 5000 to -5500. This, as will be obvious, was a very powerful protective sheath -to cover the front of the division. It was not always required—the -French did not invariably send out a skirmishing line in advance of -their main attack: but when they did, it would always be restrained -and kept off from the main front of the divisional line. If the enemy -wished to push it in, he had to bring up his formed battalions through -his _tirailleurs_, and thus only could he reach the front of battle. -The French regiments, whether formed in _ordre mixte_ or (as was more -common) in column, had to come to the front, and only so could reach -the hitherto intact British line. It may be noted that the enemy rarely -used for his skirmishing line more than the _voltigeur_ company of -each battalion; as his divisions averaged ten to twelve battalions[90] -and the unit was a six-company battalion of 600 men or under, with -only one _voltigeur_ company, a French division would send out 1000 to -1200 skirmishers, a force appreciably less than the light troops of a -British division of approximately equal force. Hence Wellington never -seems to have been seriously incommoded by the French skirmishers. - -[Sidenote: Advantages of the Skirmishing Screen] - -So considerable was the British screen of light troops that the French -not unfrequently mistook it for a front line, and speak of their column -as piercing or thrusting back the first line of their opponents, when -all that they had done was to drive in a powerful and obstinate body -of skirmishers bickering in front of the real fighting formation.[91] -Invariably, we may say, they had to use their columns to attack the -two-deep line while the latter was still intact, while their own masses -had already been under fire for some time and were no longer fresh. - -It will be asked, perhaps, why the marshals and generals of Napoleon -did not deploy their columns before the moment of contact. Why do we so -seldom read of even the _ordre mixte_ in use—Albuera is the only battle -where we distinctly find it mentioned? The answer to this objection -is, firstly, that they were strongly convinced that the column was -the better striking force to carry a given point, and that they were -normally attacking not the whole British line but the particular -section or sections where they intended to break through. But, -secondly, we may add that they frequently did attempt to deploy, but -always too late, since they waited till they had driven in the British -skirmishing line, and tried to assume the thinner formation when they -were already under fire and heavily engaged. It was not always that -the British noted this endeavour—so late was it begun, so instant was -its failure. But there is evidence that it was tried by Kellermann’s -grenadiers at Vimeiro, by part at least of Leval’s division at Barrosa, -by Merle’s column at Bussaco, when it had already reached the summit -of the Serra, and was closely engaged with Picton’s troops. At Albuera -we have a good description of it from the British side. When Myers’ -fusilier brigade marched against the flank of the 5th Corps, in the -crisis of that battle, Soult launched against them his reserve, the -three regiments of Werlé, which became at once locked in combat at -very short range with the fusiliers. “During the close action,” -writes a British officer (Blakeney of the 7th), “I saw their officers -endeavouring to deploy their columns, but all to no purpose. For as -soon as the third of a company got out, they would immediately run back -in order to be covered by the front of their column.” The fact was, -that the effect of the fire of a British regiment far exceeded anything -that the enemy had been wont to cope with when engaged with continental -troops, and was altogether devastating. Again and again French officers -who came under it for the first time, made the miscalculation of -trying the impossible. Nothing could be more inevitably productive -of confusion and disorder than to attempt deployment under such a -heavy fire. Wherefore many French commanders never tried it at all, -and thought it more safe to go on to the final shock with their -battalions in the usual “column of divisions,” in which they had begun -their attack. This was little better, and quite as costly in the end. -“Really,” wrote Wellington, in a moment of unwonted exhilaration, after -the combat of Sabugal, “these attacks in column against our lines are -very contemptible.”[92] This was after he had viewed from the other -bank of the Coa, “where I could see every movement on both sides,” the -43rd regiment repulse in succession three attacks by French columns -which came up against it, one after the other. - -[Sidenote: Necessity of Flank Cover] - -(3) We now come to the third postulate of Wellington’s system—the -two-deep fighting line must be covered on its flanks, either by the -ground, or by cavalry and artillery support, or by infantry prolonging -the front beyond the enemy’s immediate point of action. At Talavera -one of his flanks was covered by a precipitous hill, the other by -thick olive plantations. At Bussaco both the French attacks were -hopelessly outflanked by troops posted on high and inaccessible ground, -and could only be pushed frontally. At Fuentes de Oñoro the final -fighting position rested on a heavily occupied village at one end, and -on the ravine of the Turon river upon the other. At Salamanca the 3rd -Division, the striking-force which won the battle, had its line covered -on its outer flank by a British and a Portuguese brigade of cavalry. -At Vittoria the whole French army was enveloped by the concentric -and converging attack of the much longer British line. At Waterloo -flank protection was secured by the advanced post of Hougoumont and -a “refused” right wing at one end of the position: by the group of -fortified farms (Papelotte, La Haye, etc.), and a mass of cavalry -at the other. Wellington, in short, was very careful of his flanks. -Only once indeed, so far as I remember, did the French get round the -outlying end of his army and cause him trouble. This was in the first -episode of Fuentes de Oñoro, where the 7th Division, placed some way -out, as a flank-guard, suffered some loss by being taken in rear -by French cavalry which had made a great circuit, and only escaped -worse disaster because two of its battalions, the 51st and _Chasseurs -Britanniques_, had time to form front to flank, and adapt themselves -to the situation, and because a few British squadrons sacrificed -themselves in checking, so long as was possible, the enemy’s superior -horse. - -There was one universally remembered instance during the war which -demonstrated the terrible risk that the line might run if it were not -properly protected on the flanks. At Albuera Colborne’s brigade of -the 2nd Division was thrown into the fight with its flank absolutely -bare—there was no support within half a mile—by the recklessness of its -divisional general, William Stewart. It was caught unprepared by two -regiments of French cavalry, charging in at an angle, almost on its -rear, and three battalions were literally cut to pieces, with a loss of -1200 men out of 1600 present, and five colours. Wellington would never -have sent it forward without the proper support on its wings, and it -is noteworthy that, later on the same day, Cole took the 4th Division -into action on the same hill, and against the same enemy, with perfect -success, because he had guarded one flank with a battalion in column, -and the other (the outer and more exposed one) with a battalion in -square and a brigade of cavalry. - -These, then, were the necessary postulates required for the successful -use of line against column, and when they were duly borne in mind, -victory was secure with any reasonable balance in numbers. The -essential fact that lay behind the oft-observed conclusion was simply -that the two-deep line enabled a force to use every musket with effect, -while the “column of divisions” put seven-ninths of the men forming it -in a position where they could not shoot at all, and even the _ordre -mixte_ praised by Napoleon placed from seven-twelfths to two-thirds of -the rank and file in the same unhappy condition.[93] But Albuera is the -only fight in the war in which there is definite proof that the enemy -fought in the _ordre mixte_ with deployed battalions and battalions -in column ranged alternately in his front.[94] Usually he came on -with his units all in columns of divisions, and very frequently (as at -Bussaco and in certain episodes at Talavera) he had battalion behind -battalion in each regiment. It was a gross order of fighting, but -D’Erlon invented a worse and a more clumsy formation at Waterloo, where -he sent forward whole divisions with eight or nine battalions deployed -one behind the other, so as to produce a front of only 200 men and a -depth of twenty-four—with only one man in twelve able to use his musket. - -[Sidenote: Superior Fire of the Line] - -Clearly, however, the column of divisions (double companies) was the -normal French order, _i.e._ in a battalion of 600 men in six companies, -we should get a front of 66 muskets and 132 men able to fire, while -468 were in the rear ranks, able to be shot but not to shoot. If an -English battalion of equal strength lay in front, in its two-deep -line, it could give a discharge of 600 muskets against one of 132, and -this was not all. Its front was nearly five times that of the French -battalion, so that its fire lapped round the flanks of the advancing -mass, demoralizing it because there was no proper power to reply. Often -the British line, during the moments of fire-combat, somewhat threw -forward its wings in a shallow crescent, and blazed with three sides of -the column at once. This was done by the 43rd and 52nd at Bussaco, with -great effect, against the French brigade, that of Simon, which came -up the slope in front of them, with its leading regiment ranged three -battalions deep, in a most vulnerable array. How could it be expected -that the column would prevail? Effective against an enemy who allowed -himself to be cowed and beaten by the sight of the formidable advancing -mass, it was helpless against steady troops, who stood their ground and -emptied their muskets, as fast as they could load, into a mark which -it was impossible to miss. This, probably, is what Wellington meant -when (as mentioned above) he stated to Croker, ere ever he sailed for -Portugal, that “if all I hear about their system is true, I think it a -false one against steady troops. I suspect all the continental armies -are half-beaten before the battle begins.” That is to say, the column -might win by the terror that its massive weight and impetus inspired; -but if the enemy refused to be terrorized, he would be able to hold his -own, and to inflict enormous losses on the crowded formation. - -It only remains to be said that, with the battalion in column of -divisions as unit, the French had two ways of drawing up their -attacking line. They might either draw up the battalions of each -regiment in a line of columns, or they might place them one behind the -other, making the whole regiment into a single column. Both methods -were from time to time employed. It was not details of arrangement -like this which made the difference—the essential weakness was the -“column of divisions” which formed the base of all the array—it was too -helpless in fire-contest against the line. - -The physical aspect of the contest between line and column we have -now sufficiently dealt with. What was the moral aspect? Fortunately -we can explain it with accuracy, because one of the many thousands -of French officers who went through the Peninsular War has left us, -not personal anecdotes or confused impressions like so many of his -fellows, but a real account of the mental state of a battalion going -forward in column to attack the British line. I make no excuse for -quoting in full the paragraphs of Bugeaud, a _chef de bataillon_ in -1812—a marshal of African fame thirty years later—because they give -us exactly what we want to know. It should be premised, however, that -Bugeaud did not serve in the Army of Portugal, nor face Wellington’s -own troops. He served in Suchet’s army, along the Mediterranean Coast -of the Peninsula, and his personal observations must have been made at -Castalla and other combats in the East. It is to be noted also that he -gives no account of the clash of skirmishers which so often took place, -and describes his column as going forward unsheathed to the main clash -of battle. - -[Sidenote: Bugeaud on Column versus Line] - -“I served seven years in the Peninsula,” he says; “during that time we -sometimes beat the English in isolated encounters and raids [_e.g._ -Ordal] which as a field officer detached I was able to prepare and -direct. But during that long period of war, it was my sorrow to see -that only in a very small number of general actions did the British -army fail to get the better of us. We almost invariably attacked -our adversaries, without either taking into account our own past -experience, or bearing in mind that the tactics which answered well -enough when we had only Spaniards to deal with, almost invariably -failed when an English force was in our front. - -“The English generally held good defensive positions, carefully -selected and usually on rising ground, behind the crest of which -they found cover for a good part of their men. The usual obligatory -cannonade would commence the operation, then, in haste, without duly -reconnoitring the position, without ascertaining whether the ground -afforded any facilities for lateral or turning movements, we marched -straight forward, ‘taking the bull by the horns.’[95] - -“When we got to about a thousand yards from the English line the men -would begin to get restless and excited: they exchanged ideas with -one another, their march began to be somewhat precipitate, and was -already growing a little disorderly. Meanwhile the English, silent -and impassive, with grounded arms, loomed like a long red wall; their -aspect was imposing—it impressed novices not a little. Soon the -distance began to grow shorter: cries of ‘_Vive l’Empereur_,’ ‘_en -avant à la baïonnette_,’ broke from our mass. Some men hoisted their -shakos on their muskets, the quick-step became a run: the ranks began -to be mixed up: the men’s agitation became tumultuous, many soldiers -began to fire as they ran. And all the while the red English line, -still silent and motionless, even when we were only 300 yards away, -seemed to take no notice of the storm which was about to beat upon it. - -“The contrast was striking. More than one among us began to reflect -that the enemy’s fire, so long reserved, would be very unpleasant when -it did break forth. Our ardour began to cool: the moral influence -(irresistible in action) of a calm which seems undisturbed as opposed -to disorder which strives to make up by noise what it lacks in -firmness, weighed heavily on our hearts. - -“At this moment of painful expectation the English line would make a -quarter-turn—the muskets were going up to the ‘ready.’ An indefinable -sensation nailed to the spot many of our men, who halted and opened a -wavering fire. The enemy’s return, a volley of simultaneous precision -and deadly effect, crashed in upon us like a thunderbolt. Decimated by -it we reeled together, staggering under the blow and trying to recover -our equilibrium. Then three formidable _Hurrahs_ termined the long -silence of our adversaries. With the third they were down upon us, -pressing us into a disorderly retreat. But to our great surprise, they -did not pursue their advantage for more than some hundred yards, and -went back with calm to their former lines, to await another attack. We -rarely failed to deliver it when our reinforcements came up—with the -same want of success and heavier losses.”[96] - -[Sidenote: Helplessness of the Column] - -This is the picture that we need to complete our study of the conflict -of column with line. The psychology of the huddled mass going forward -to inevitable defeat could not be better portrayed. The only thing that -is hard for us to understand is the reason which induced capable men -like Soult, D’Erlon, or Foy to continue to use the columnar formation -all through the dark days of 1813–14, and even in the final campaign of -Waterloo. All honour must be paid, however, to the rank and file who, -with five years of such experience behind them, were still steadfast -and courageous enough to put up a good fight even in their last -offensive battles in the Pyrenees, as well as in the defensive actions -of Orthez and Toulouse. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -WELLINGTON’S TACTICS—THE CAVALRY AND ARTILLERY - - -Hitherto we have been confining our outlook on Wellington’s tactics -to his use of infantry. But a few words must be added as to his -methods of handling the other two arms—cavalry and artillery. There -are fortunately one or two _memoranda_ of his own which enable us -to interpret his views on the use of these arms, which were to him -mainly auxiliary; for the epigram that he was “essentially an infantry -general” is in the main correct, though it needs some comment and -explanation. In the early part of his Peninsular campaigning he was -forced to be an “infantry general,” since the home government kept him -unreasonably short in the matter of horsemen and guns till the year -1811 was far spent. Moreover, the ground over which he had to fight in -1809–10–11 must be considered. - -The Iberian Peninsula may from the point of view of the cavalry -tactician be divided into two sets of regions, in the one of which the -mounted arm is all-important, while in the other it may, almost without -exaggeration, be described as well-nigh negligible as an element of -military strength, being only usable on a small scale, for exploration -and observation, and not being able to be employed effectively in mass. - -To the first-named class of regions, the tracts eminently suitable for -the employment of cavalry, belong the great plateau of Central Spain, -the broad arable plains of Old Castile and Leon, from Burgos to Ciudad -Rodrigo and from Astorga to Aranda. Here, in a gently undulating -upland, little enclosed, and mainly laid out in great common-fields, -cavalry has one of the suitable terrains that can be found for it in -Europe—as favourable as Champagne, or the lowlands of Northern Germany. -This is also, almost to the same extent, the case with the loftier and -less cultivated plateau of New Castile, and with the melancholy thinly -peopled moors of La Mancha and Estremadura, where the horseman may ride -ahead for twenty or thirty miles without meeting any serious natural -obstacle, save at long intervals the steep cleft of a ravine, dry in -summer, full of a fierce stream in winter. Nor are the great central -uplands the only tracts of Spain where cavalry finds an admirable field -for operations: the central valley of the Ebro in Aragon, and the -whole of the broad plain of the Guadalquivir in Andalusia, are equally -suited for the employment of the mounted arm, on the largest scale. -Napoleon, therefore, was entirely justified when he attached a very -large proportion of horse to his Army of Spain, and when he uttered his -_dictum_ that great portions of it must inevitably be the possession -of the general who owned the larger and the more efficient mass of -squadrons. - -On the other hand, there are large tracts of the Peninsula where -cavalry is almost as useless as in Switzerland or Calabria. Such are -the whole Pyrenean tract on the north, extending from Catalonia, by -Aragon and Navarre, to the Asturian and Galician lands along the -southern shore of the Bay of Biscay. It will be remembered that, during -the Pyrenean Campaign of 1813, Wellington sent back very nearly all his -cavalry to the plain of the Ebro, while Soult left his in the plain of -the Adour. Sir John Moore’s small but fine cavalry force was useless -to him in the Corunna retreat, when once Astorga had been passed, and -the Galician mountains entered. He sent it on before him, with the -exception of a squadron or two kept with the rear-guard. Soult’s more -numerous mounted force, in that same campaign, was only useful in -picking up Moore’s stragglers, and keeping the British continuously on -the march—it was brought to a dead stop every time that the retreating -army showed an infantry rear-guard, and stood at bay in one of the -innumerable Galician defiles. - -There is another tract of the Peninsula almost as unsuited as the -Pyrenean and Galician highlands for the use of cavalry—and that is -Portugal, where so much of Wellington’s earlier campaigning took place. -Deducting some coast plains of comparatively small extent, all Northern -and Central Portugal is mountainous—not for the most part mountainous -on a large scale, with high summits and broad valleys, but mountainous -on a small scale with rugged hills of 2000 or 3000 feet, between -which flow deeply-sunk torrents in narrow ravines—where roads are all -uphill and downhill and a defile occurs every few miles. It was the -character of this countryside which made Wellington’s army of 1810–11, -with its very small cavalry force—only seven British and four or five -Portuguese regiments—safe against Masséna’s immensely preponderant -number of squadrons. All through the long retreat from Almeida to the -lines of Torres Vedras the allied army could never be caught, turned, -or molested; the cavalry on both sides was only employed in petty -rear-guard actions, in which the small force brought the larger to a -check in defiles, and generally gave back only when the invader brought -up infantry to support his attack. For all the good that it did him, -Masséna might have left his 7000 cavalry behind him when he entered -Portugal—a few squadrons for exploration was all that he needed. Jammed -in narrow defiles, where they were helpless, his mounted men were often -more of an incumbrance than a help to him. - -On the other hand, when the slopes of the Portuguese mountains were -once left behind, Wellington was forced to be most cautious, and to -restrict his action to favourable ground (as at Talavera, and Fuentes -d’Oñoro) so long as the enemy was hopelessly superior in his number -of squadrons. It was only after 1811, when his cavalry regiments -were about doubled in numbers, that he could venture down into the -plains, and deliver great battles in the open like Salamanca—the first -engagement which he ever fought in the Peninsula where his cavalry was -not inferior by a third or even a half to that of the French. - -Beside the Pyrenean regions and Portugal, there are other districts -of the Peninsula where the cavalry arm is handicapped by the -terrain—Catalonia for example, where the inland is one mass of -rugged valleys, the coastland of the kingdom of Granada, and the -great ganglion of mountain lands where Aragon, Valencia, and New -Castile meet. But as these were tracts where the British army was -little engaged, I pass them over with a mention. But it must also be -remembered that each of the great upland plateaux of Spain—Leon, New -Castile, La Mancha, and Estremadura, is separated from the others by -broad mountain belts, where the Spanish guerillero bands made their -headquarters, and rendered communication between plain and plain -difficult and perilous. - -[Sidenote: French Cavalry Tactics] - -In such a country of contrasts, how did the various combatants use -their mounted men during the six long years between Vimeiro and -Toulouse? What was the relative value of the different national -cavalry, and what were its tactics for battle and for the equally -important work of exploration, and of the covering and concealing the -movements of the other arms? - -French cavalry tactics had, by 1808, when the war began, developed -into as definite a system as those of the infantry. Napoleon was fond -of massing his horsemen in very large bodies, and launching them at -the centre no less than at the flank of the army opposed to him. -In the times of Marlborough and of Frederic the Great cavalry was -almost always drawn up in long lines on the wings, and used first for -the beating of the hostile containing cavalry, and then for turning -against the unprotected flank of the enemy’s infantry in the centre. -A cavalry dash at a weak point in the middle of the hostile front was -very rare indeed, and only tried by the very few generals of first -rate intelligence, who had emancipated themselves from the old routine -which prescribed the regular drawing up of an army. Marlborough’s -cavalry charge at the French right-centre at Blenheim is almost the -only first-rate example of such a stroke in the old wars of the -eighteenth century. Frederic’s great cavalry charge at Rossbach, which -is sometimes quoted as a parallel, was after all no more than a sudden -rush of the Prussian flank-cavalry at the exposed wing of an army which -was unwisely trying to march around the position of its adversary. But -Napoleon was the exponent of great frontal attacks of cavalry on chosen -weak spots of the enemy’s line, which had already been well pounded -by artillery or weakened in some other way. He would use 6000, 8000, -or (as at Waterloo) even 12,000 men for one of these great strokes. -At Austerlitz and Borodino these charges were made straight at the -enemy’s front: Marengo and Dresden were won by such rushes: Eylau was -only saved from falling into a disaster by a blow of the same kind. -But cavalry had to be used at precisely the right moment, to be most -skilfully led, and to be pushed home without remorse and despite of all -losses, if it was to be successful. Even then it might be beaten off -by thoroughly cool and unshaken infantry, as at Waterloo. It was only -against exhausted, distracted, or untrained battalions that it could -count with a reasonable certainty of success. - -All through the war the raw and badly-drilled Spanish armies supplied -the French squadrons with exactly this sort of opportunities. They were -always being surprised before they had been formed by their generals in -line of battle, or caught in confusion while they were executing some -complicated manœuvre. If attacked while they were in line or in column -of march, they always fell victims to a cavalry charge, being from want -of discipline extraordinarily slow to form square. As if this was not -enough, they were often weak enough in morale to allow themselves to -be broken even when they had time to form their squares. The battles -of Medellin, Ocaña, the Gebora, and Saguntum, were good examples of -the power of a comparatively small mass of cavalry skilfully handled, -over a numerous but ill-disciplined infantry. But the little-mentioned -combat of Margalef in 1810 is perhaps the strongest example of the -kind, for there six squadrons of Suchet’s cavalry (the 13th Cuirassiers -supported by two squadrons of the 3rd Hussars) actually rode down in -succession, a whole division of some 4000 men, whom they caught while -forming line of battle from column of march. This was done, too, -despite of the fact that the Spanish infantry was accompanied by three -squadrons of cavalry (who made the usual bolt at the commencement of -the action), as well as by a half-battery of artillery. - -[Sidenote: Successes of the French Cavalry] - -It was of course a very different matter when the French cavalry had -to face the steady battalions of the British army. Looking down all -the record of battles and skirmishes from 1808 down to 1814, I can -only remember two occasions when the enemy’s cavalry really achieved -a notable tactical success. Oddly enough both fell within the month -of May, 1811. At Albuera there occurred that complete disaster to -a British infantry brigade which has already been described in the -preceding chapter. The other, and much smaller, success achieved by -French cavalry over British infantry at Fuentes de Oñoro, a few days -before the greater disaster at Albuera, has also been alluded to.[97] -These two disasters were wholly exceptional; usually the British -infantry held its own, unless it was absolutely taken by surprise, and -this even when attacked frontally by cavalry while it was deployed in -the two deep line, without forming square. If the British had their -flanks covered, they were perfectly safe, and turned back any charge -with ease. - -Indeed the repulse of cavalry by British troops in line, who did not -take the trouble to form square because their flanks were covered, was -not infrequent in the Peninsular War. The classic instance is that of -the 5th Northumberland Fusiliers at El Bodon in 1811, who advanced in -line firing against two French cavalry regiments and drove them off -the heights, being able to do so because they had a squadron or two of -British horse to protect them from being turned. A very similar feat -was performed by the 52nd at Sabugal in 1811: and Harvey’s Portuguese -brigade did as much at Albuera. - -Much more, of course, was the square impregnable. When once safely -placed in that formation, British troops habitually not only withstood -cavalry charges at a stand-still, but made long movements over a -battlefield inundated by the hostile cavalry. At Fuentes de Oñoro the -Light Division, three British and two Portuguese squares, retreated at -leisure for _two miles_ while beset by four brigades of French cavalry, -and reached the ground which they had been ordered to take up with a -total loss of one killed and thirty-four wounded. Similarly at El Bodon -the square composed of the 5th and 77th retreated for six miles, in the -face of two cavalry brigades which could never break into them.[98] - -Indeed it may be stated, as a rule almost without exception, that -troops in square, whether British or French, were never broken during -the Peninsular War even by very desperate and gallant charges. One of -the best instances of this general rule was the case of the combat of -Barquilla, where two grenadier companies of the French 22nd, surprised -while covering a foraging party by five squadrons of British cavalry, -got away in a level country after having been charged successively by -three squadrons of the 1st Hussars of the German Legion, the 16th and -the 14th Light Dragoons. One of these three squadron-charges, at least -(that of the 14th), had been pushed home so handsomely that an officer -and nine men fell actually among the French front rank, and a French -observer noted bayonets broken, and musket barrels deeply cut into by -the sweeping blows of the light dragoons, who yet failed entirely to -break in. - -[Sidenote: Cavalry Action against Squares] - -There was indeed only one extraordinary case of properly formed squares -being broken during the whole war, a case as exceptional in one way as -the disaster to Colborne’s brigade at Albuera was in the other. This -was at the combat of Garcia Hernandez, on the morning after the battle -of Salamanca, where the heavy dragoons of the K.G.L. delivered what Foy -(the French historian of the war) called the best charge that he had -ever seen. The rear-guard of Marmont’s army had been formed of the one -division which had not been seriously engaged in the battle, so that -it could not be said to have been composed of shaken or demoralized -troops. Nevertheless, two of its squares were actually broken by -the legionary dragoons, though drawn up without haste or hurry on -a hillside favourable for defensive action. According to Beamish’s -_History of the German Legion_, a work composed a few years later -from the testimony of eye-witnesses, the first square was broken by a -mortally wounded horse, carrying a dead rider, leaping right upon the -kneeling front rank of the square, and bearing down half a dozen men -by its struggles and kicking. An officer, Captain Gleichen, spurred -his horse into the gap thus created, his men followed, a wedge was -thrust into the square, and it broke up, the large majority of the men -surrendering. The second square, belonging to the same regiment, the -6th Léger, was a little higher up the hillside than the first: it was a -witness of the destruction of the sister-battalion, and seems to have -been shaken by the sight: at any rate, when assailed a few minutes -later by another squadron of the German Dragoons, it gave a rather wild -though destructive volley, and wavered at the moment of receiving the -attack, bulging in at the first charge. This was, of course, fatal. The -broken squares lost 1400 prisoners, beside some 200 killed and wounded. -The victorious dragoons paid a fairly high price for their success, -losing 4 officers and 50 men killed, and 2 officers, and 60 men wounded -out of 700 present; the extraordinary proportion of killed to wounded, -54 to 62 marking the deadly effect of musketry at the closest possible -quarters. - -This (as I said before) was the exception that proved the rule: the -invulnerability of a steady square was such a commonplace, that Foy and -the other old officers of the Army of Spain, looked with dismay upon -Napoleon’s great attempt at Waterloo to break down the long line of -British squares between La Haye Sainte and Hougoumont, by the charges -of some ten or twelve thousand cavalry massed on a short front of less -than a mile. The Emperor had not allowed for the superior resisting -power of a thoroughly good infantry. - -Of fights between cavalry and cavalry, when the two sides were present -in numbers so fairly equal as to make the struggle a fair test of their -relative efficiency, there were comparatively few in the Peninsular -War. In the early days of the war Wellington was too scantily provided -with horsemen, and could never afford to engage in a cavalry battle -on a large scale. He had only six regiments at Talavera in 1809, only -seven in the Bussaco campaign of 1810. When he divided his army for the -simultaneous campaign in Beira and in Estremadura in March, 1811, he -could only give Beresford three regiments, and keep four for himself. -Nor could the deficiency be supplied (as was done in the artillery arm) -by using Portuguese auxiliaries. The cavalry of that nation was so weak -and so badly mounted that it is doubtful whether there were ever so -many as 2000 of them in the field at once. Many of the twelve regiments -were never mounted, and did garrison duty as infantry throughout the -war. - -[Sidenote: Wellington and his Cavalry] - -It was not till the summer and autumn of 1811 that Wellington at last -began to get large reinforcements of the mounted arm from England, -which more than doubled his strength, for in the campaign of 1812 he -had no less than fifteen regiments instead of seven. In the winter of -1812–13 further reinforcements came out, and in the Vittoria campaign -he had at last a powerful cavalry equal or superior to that of the -French.[99] - -Yet even allowing for the weakness of Wellington’s mounted strength -in his earlier campaigns, we must acknowledge that they played a -comparatively small part in his scheme of operations. Though his -dragoons did good service in keeping his front covered, and performed -many gallant exploits (we need only mention Talavera and Fuentes de -Oñoro to instance good self-sacrificing work done), they were seldom -used as part of the main striking force that won a victory. Indeed, -the charge of Le Marchant’s heavy brigade at Salamanca is about the -only instance that can be cited of really decisive action by cavalry -in any of the Duke’s battles. There were other notable successes to -be remembered, but they were in side issues, and often not under -the chief’s own eye—as, for example, Bock’s breaking of the squares -at Garcia Hernandez on the day after Salamanca, and Lumley’s very -creditable victory over Latour-Maubourg at Usagre on May 25, 1811. - -Even when Wellington had at last a large cavalry force in 1812–14, it -was seldom found massed, and I believe that more than three brigades -were never found acting together. Such a force as six regiments was -seldom seen in line and engaged. For the use of cavalry as a screen -we may mention the combat of Venta del Pozo, during the retreat from -Burgos in 1812. This was a skirmish fought by two brigades to cover the -withdrawal of the infantry, which had to hurry hard on the way toward -Salamanca and safety. - -Something, no doubt, must be allowed for the fact that Wellington -never, till the Waterloo campaign, had an officer of proved ability in -chief command of his cavalry. Stapleton Cotton, who served so long -in that capacity, was not a man of mark. Lumley, who had a short but -distinguished career as a divisional commander, went home sick in 1811, -and Le Marchant, who came out from home with a high reputation, was -most unfortunately killed in his first battle, Salamanca, where his -brigade did so much to settle the fortunes of the day. But allowing for -all this, it remains clear that Wellington made comparatively little -use of the cavalry arm—which could hardly have been expected when we -remember how effectively he had used his horse at Assaye, quite early -in his career. Possibly the fact that he was so hopelessly outmatched -in this arm in 1809–11 sunk so much into his soul, that when he got -his chance, later on, he was not ready to use it. Certainly several -cases can be cited where it was not duly used to press a completed -victory—most particularly after Vittoria and Orthez. There is no -concealing the fact that Wellington’s reluctance to use great cavalry -attacks was, at bottom, due to his doubts as to the tactical skill of -his senior officers, and the power of his regiments to manœuvre. He -divulged his views on the subject, twelve years after the war was over, -in a letter to Lord John Russell, dated July 31, 1826. “I considered -our cavalry,” he wrote, “so inferior to the French from want of order, -that although I considered one of our squadrons a match for two French, -yet I did not care to see four British opposed to four French, and -still more so as the numbers increased, and order (of course) became -more necessary. They could gallop, but could not preserve their order.” - -[Sidenote: Some Reckless Cavalry Charges] - -This seems a very hard judgment, when we examine in detail the cavalry -annals of the Peninsular War. There were cases, no doubt, where English -regiments threw away their chances by their blind fury in charging, and -either got cut up from pursuing an original advantage to a reckless -length, or at any rate missed an opportunity by over-great dispersion -or riding off the field. The earliest case was seen at Vimeiro just -after Wellington’s first landing in the Peninsula, when two squadrons -of the 20th Light Dragoons, after successfully cutting up a beaten -column of infantry, pushed on for half a mile in great disorder, to -charge Junot’s cavalry reserves, and were horribly maltreated—losing -about one man in four. An equally irrational exploit took place at -Talavera, where the 23rd Light Dragoons, beaten off in a charge against -a square which they had been ordered to attack, rushed on beyond it, -against three successive lines of French cavalry, pierced the first, -were stopped by the second, and had to cut their way back with a loss -of 105 prisoners and 102 killed and wounded—nearly half their strength. -An equally headlong business was the charge of the 13th Light Dragoons -at Campo Mayor on March 25, 1811, when that regiment, having beaten in -fair fight the French 26th Dragoons, and captured eighteen siege-guns -which were retreating on the road, galloped on for more than six miles, -sabring the scattered fugitives, till they were actually brought up -by the fire of the fortress of Badajoz, on to whose very glacis they -had made their way. The captured guns, meanwhile, were picked up by -the French infantry who had been retreating along the high-road behind -their routed cavalry, and brought off in safety—the 13th not having -left a single man to secure them. Here, at any rate, not much loss was -suffered, though a great capture was missed, but similar galloping -tactics on June 11, 1812, at the combat of Maguilla, led to a complete -disaster. Slade’s heavy brigade (1st Royals and 3rd Dragoon Guards) -fell in with L’Allemand’s French brigade, the 17th and 27th Dragoons. -Each drew up, but L’Allemand had placed one squadron in reserve far -beyond the sky line, and out of sight. Slade charged, beat the five -squadrons immediately opposed to him, and then (without reforming or -setting aside any supports) galloped after the broken French brigade in -complete disorder for a mile, till he came parallel to the unperceived -reserve squadron, which charged him in flank and rear: the rest of -the French halted and turned; Slade could not stand, and was routed, -having 40 casualties and 118 prisoners. Wellington wrote about this -to Hill: “I have never been more annoyed than by Slade’s affair. Our -officers of cavalry have acquired a trick of galloping at everything. -They never consider the situation, never think of manœuvring before -an enemy, and never keep back or provide for a reserve. All cavalry -should charge in two lines, and at least one-third should be ordered -beforehand to pull up and reform, as soon as the charge has been -delivered, and the enemy been broken.”[100] - -In the first three of the cases mentioned above, the discredit of -the rash and inconsiderate pressing on of the charge falls on the -regimental officers—in the last on the brigadier, Slade. It must be -confessed that Wellington was not very happy in his senior cavalry -officers—Erskine, Long, and Slade have all some bad marks against -them—especially the last-named, whose proceedings seem nearly to have -broken the heart of the lively and intelligent diarist Tomkinson, of -the 16th Light Dragoons, who had the misfortune to serve long under -him. Stapleton Cotton, the commander of the whole cavalry, was but a -mediocrity; every one will remember his old chief’s uncomplimentary -remarks about him _àpropos_ of the siege of Bhurtpore. The man who -ought to have been in charge of the British horse during the whole war -was Lord Paget, who had handled Sir John Moore’s five cavalry regiments -with such admirable skill and daring during the Corunna campaign: his -two little fights of Sahagun and Benevente were models in their way. -But he was unhappily never employed again till Waterloo—where his -doings, under his new name of Lord Uxbridge, are sufficiently well -known. But a question of seniority, and an unhappy family quarrel with -the Wellesleys (having absconded with the wife of Wellington’s brother -Henry, he fought a duel with her brother in consequence) prevented him -from seeing service under the Duke in the eventful years 1809–14. Of -the cavalry generals who took part in the great campaigns, after Paget -the most successful was Lumley, who has two very fine achievements to -his credit—the containing of Soult’s superior cavalry during the crisis -of the battle of Albuera, and the combat of Usagre, of May 25, 1811, -noted above. This was considered such an admirable piece of work by the -enemy, that it is related at great length in Picard’s _Histoire de la -Cavalerie_, alone among all British successes of the Peninsular War. - -[Sidenote: Lumley’s Victory at Usagre] - -It needs a word of notice, as it is hardly mentioned in the Wellington -dispatches, and very briefly by Napier. Latour-Maubourg had been -sent by Soult to push back Beresford’s advanced posts, and discover -his position. He had a very large force—two brigades of dragoons and -four regiments of light cavalry, in all 3500 sabres. Lumley, who was -screening Beresford’s movements, had only three British regiments (3rd -Dragoon Guards, 4th Dragoons, 13th Light Dragoons), 980 sabres, and -Madden’s and Otway’s Portuguese brigades, 1000 sabres, with 300 of -Penne Villemur’s Spanish horse. Wishing to contain the French advance -as long as possible, he took up a position behind the bridge and -village of Usagre, a defile through which the French must pass in order -to reach him. Latour-Maubourg, relying on the immense superiority of -numbers which he possessed, was reckless in his tactics. After sending -off a brigade of light horse to turn Lumley’s position, by a very long -detour and distant fords, he pushed his other three brigades into -the village, with orders to cross the bridge and press the enemy in -front. Lumley was showing nothing but a line of Portuguese vedettes, -having withdrawn his squadrons behind the sky line. He was apprised -of the turning movement, but, knowing the ground better than the -French, was aware that it would take a very much longer time than the -enemy expected, so resolved to hold his position to the last moment. -He allowed the two leading regiments of Bron’s dragoons to pass the -bridge and form on the nearer side, and then, while the third regiment -was crossing the river, and the second brigade was entering the long -village, charged suddenly in upon the first brigade, with six English -squadrons in front and six Portuguese squadrons on the right flank. -The two deployed French regiments were thrown back on the third, which -was jammed on the bridge. Hence they could not get away to reform and -rally, the road behind them being entirely blocked, while the second -brigade in the village could not get to the front to give assistance. -All that Latour-Maubourg could do was to dismount its leading regiment -and occupy with it the houses on each side of the bridge, from which -they kept back the victorious British by their carbine fire. Lumley, -meanwhile, dealt with the three routed regiments at his leisure, -killing or wounding 250 men and capturing 80 prisoners before the -disordered wrecks succeeded in re-crossing the river. Latour-Maubourg, -warned by this bloody check, showed for the future no anxiety to press -in upon Beresford’s cavalry screen. - -How _not_ to deal with an exactly similar situation, it may be -remarked, was shown on the 23rd October of the following year, 1812, -by two British brigadiers, who, charged with the covering of the -retreat of Wellington’s army from Burgos, were holding a position -behind the bridge of Venta del Pozo or Villadrigo, when the part -of the French cavalry immediately opposed to them, the brigade of -Faverot, ten squadrons strong, came down to the defile. Faverot, like -Latour-Maubourg at Usagre, took the hazardous step of ordering his -leading regiment to pass the bridge at a trot, and form on the other -side. This Bock, the senior British brigadier, allowed it to do, and -was right in so doing, for the proper moment to strike was when the -enemy should have half or three-quarters of his men across the bridge, -and the rest jammed upon it. But Bock allowed the psychological moment -to pass, and did not charge till the French brigade had almost entirely -crossed, and could put very nearly equal numbers in line against him. -Then, moving too late, with some squadrons of Anson’s brigade in -support, he came to a desperate standing fight with the enemy, in -which both suffered very heavily. But when all the British and German -Legion regiments were already engaged, the rearmost squadrons of the -French, which had crossed the bridge under cover of the fighting -line, fell upon Bock from the flank, and turned one of his wings; the -British cavalry had to give way and retreat, till it was covered by the -infantry of the 7th Division. If Bock had charged five minutes earlier, -he would have nipped the French column in the middle, and probably have -destroyed the leading regiments. The French brigade, as it was, lost 18 -officers and 116 men, Anson and Bock about 200, among whom were four -officers and 70 men prisoners. - -[Sidenote: Surprise of Arroyo Dos Molinos] - -On the whole, I am inclined to think that Wellington was a little -hard on his cavalry. There was, of course, considerable justification -for his criticisms. There was a want of decision and intelligence -among some of his brigadiers, and a tendency to headlong and reckless -charging straight ahead among many of his regimental officers. But -looking dispassionately at the cavalry work on both sides, it is -impossible to say that the French marshals were any better served. -There is no striking instance in the annals of the British campaigns -of 1809–14 of the army, or even a division, being surprised for want -of vigilance on the part of its cavalry screen, while several such can -be quoted on the French side—especially Ney’s surprise at Foz d’Arouce -on March 15, 1811—caused by his light cavalry under Lamotte having -completely failed to watch the roads, or the better-known rout of -Girard at Arroyo dos Molinos later in the same year. On that occasion -an infantry division, accompanied by no less than two brigades of light -cavalry, was attacked at dawn and dispersed with heavy loss, owing to -the fact that the cavalry brigadiers, Bron and Briche, had taken no -precautions whatever to feel for the enemy. They, like the infantry, -were completely surprised, being caught with the horses unsaddled, -and the men dispersed among houses; hence the chasseurs were taken -prisoners in large numbers by Hill’s sudden rush, one of the brigadiers -and a cavalry colonel being among the 2000 unwounded prisoners -taken. There is no such large-scale surprise as this among all the -records of the British cavalry. The worst that I know were those of -a squadron of the 13th Light Dragoons on April 6, 1811, near Elvas, -and a very similar one of the 11th Light Dragoons two months later, -not far from the same place. In the last case the disaster is said to -have happened because the regiment had only just landed from England -after long home-service, and the captain in command lost his head from -sheer inexperience. With regard to this I may quote the following -pregnant sentence, from the _Diary_ of Tomkinson, who wrote far the -best detailed account of the life of a cavalry regiment during those -eventful years. “To attempt giving men or officers any idea in England -of outpost duty was considered absurd, and when they came abroad they -had all to learn. The fact was that there was no one to teach them. -Sir Stapleton Cotton (who afterwards commanded the cavalry in Spain) -once tried an experiment with the 14th and 16th Light Dragoons near -Woodbridge in Suffolk. In the end he got the supposed enemy’s vedettes -and his own all facing the same way. In England I never saw nor heard -of cavalry taught to charge, disperse, and reform, which of all things, -before an enemy, is most essential. Inclining in line right or left -is very useful, and that was scarcely ever practised.” He adds in -1819: “On return to English duty, after the peace, we all continued -the old system, each regiment estimating its merit by mere celerity of -movement. Not one idea suggested by our war experience was remembered, -and after five years we shall have to commence all over again, if we -are sent abroad.” - -In short, the proper work of cavalry, apart from mere charging, had to -be learnt on Spanish soil when any regiment landed. But it was in the -end picked up by the better corps, and on the whole the outpost and -reconnaissance work of the Peninsular Army seem to have been well done, -though some regiments had a better reputation than others. Much of the -work of this kind speaks for itself. The most admirable achievement -during the war was undoubtedly that of the 1st Hussars of the K.G.L., -who, assisted afterwards by the 14th and 16th Light Dragoons, kept for -four months (March to May, 1810) the line of the Agueda and Azava, 40 -miles long, against a fourfold strength of French cavalry, without -once letting a hostile reconnaissance through, losing a picket or even -a vedette, or sending a piece of false information back to General -Craufurd, whose front they were covering. - -[Sidenote: Wellington’s Cavalry Tactics] - -Allusion has been made in the opening words of this chapter to -Wellington’s memorandum for the tactical management of cavalry. It was -only issued after Waterloo, in the form of “Instructions to Officers -commanding Brigades of Cavalry in the Army of Occupation,” but, no -doubt, represents the tactics which he had evolved from his Peninsular -experience.[101] Too long to give in entirety, it is worth analysing. -The heads run as follows:— - -(1) A reserve must always be kept, to improve a success, or to cover -an unsuccessful charge. This reserve should not be less than half the -total number of sabres, and may occasionally be as much as two-thirds -of it. - -(2) Normally a cavalry force should form in three lines: the first and -second lines should be deployed, the reserve may be in column, but so -formed as to be easily changed into line. - -(3) The second line should be 400 or 500 yards from the first, the -reserve a similar distance from the second line, if cavalry is about to -act against cavalry. This is found not too great a distance to prevent -the rear lines from improving an advantage gained by the front line, -nor too little to prevent a defeated front line from passing between -the intervals of its supports without disordering them. - -(4) When, however, cavalry is charging infantry, the second line should -be only 200 yards behind the first, the object being that it should be -able to deliver its charge without delay, against a battalion which -has spent its fire against the first line, and will not be prepared for -a second charge pushed in rapid succession to the first. - -(5) When the first line delivers its attack at a gallop, the supports -must follow at a walk only, lest they be carried forward by the rush, -and get mingled with the line in front at the onset. For order in the -supports must be rigidly kept—they are useless if they have got into -confusion, when they are wanted to sustain and cover a checked first -line. - -A note as to horses may finish our observations on the cavalry side -of Wellington’s tactics. In countless places, in diaries no less than -dispatches, we find the complaint that the trooper of 1810 was, when -not well looked after by his officers, a bad horse-master—careless as -to feeding his mount, and still more so as to saddle-galls and such -like. It is often remarked that the one German light cavalry regiment -in the original Peninsular Army, the 1st Hussars of the King’s German -Legion, set an example which some other regiments might have copied -with advantage, being far more conscientious and considerate to their -beasts. It is interesting to find that the French cavalry reports have -exactly the same complaints, and the number of dismounted men shown -in French regimental states as a consequence of sick horses was as -great as our own. Several times I have found the report that when a -considerable number of French cavalry had been captured, quite a small -proportion of their horses could be turned over to serve as remounts -for their captors, because of the abominable condition in which they -were found. The fact was that the climate and the food seem to have -been equally deleterious to the English and French horses: a diet of -chopped straw and green maize—often all that could be got—was deadly -to horses accustomed to stable diet in England or France. Wellington -sometimes actually imported hay and oats from England; but they -could not be got far up country, and only served for regiments that -chanced to be put into winter quarters near the sea. Practically -all the remounts came from England—the Portuguese and Spanish horses -having been tried and found wanting many times. In 1808 the 20th -Light Dragoons were embarked without horses, being ordered to mount -themselves in Portugal; but the experiment failed wholly. - -[Sidenote: Wellington’s Artillery Tactics] - -Only a short note is required as to Wellington’s use of artillery. In -his early years of command he was almost as weak in this arm as in -cavalry. There was not one British battery per division available in -1809. But the Portuguese artillery being numerous, and ere long very -efficient, was largely used to supplement the British after 1810. Yet -even when it had become proportioned to the number of his whole army, -the Duke did not use it in the style of Bonaparte. He never worked -with enormous masses of guns manœuvring in front line, and supporting -an attack, such as the Emperor used. Only at Bussaco, Vittoria, and -Waterloo do we find anything like a concentration of many batteries -to play an important part in the line of battle. Usually the Duke -preferred to work with small units—individual batteries—placed in -well-chosen spots, and often kept concealed till the critical moment. -They were dotted along the front of the position rather than massed, -and in most cases must be regarded as valuable support for the infantry -that was to win the battle, rather than as an arm intended to work for -its independent aims and to take a special part in war. Of several of -Napoleon’s victories we may say that they were artilleryman’s battles; -nothing of the kind can be predicated of any of Wellington’s triumphs, -though the guns were always well placed, and most usefully employed, as -witness Bussaco, Fuentes de Oñoro, and Waterloo. - -As to Wellington’s use of siege artillery, we must speak in a later -chapter.[102] It was, through no fault of his own, the weakest point -in his army: indeed till 1811 he never had a British battering-train, -and in the early sieges of Badajoz he worked _in forma pauperis_, with -improvised material, mainly Portuguese, and very deficient in quality. -The record is not a cheerful one; but it must be said that the home -authorities, and not Wellington, were the responsible parties for any -checks that were suffered. A great general who is not an artillery -or engineering specialist must trust to his scientific officers, and -certainly cannot be made responsible for shortage of men and material -due to the parsimony of his masters at home. - -So much for the great Duke’s tactics. We shall presently be -investigating his system of military organization—the inner machinery -of his army. But before dealing with it, we shall have to spare some -attention for his greater lieutenants, whose individualities had an -important share in the management of his army. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -WELLINGTON’S LIEUTENANTS—HILL, BERESFORD, GRAHAM - - -There can be no stronger contrast than that between the impression -which the Iron Duke left on his old followers, and that produced by his -trusted and most responsible lieutenant, Sir Rowland Hill. Hill was -blessed and kindly remembered wherever he went. He was a man brimming -over with the milk of human kindness, and the mention of him in any -diary is generally accompanied by some anecdote of an act of thoughtful -consideration, some friendly word, or piece of unpremeditated, often -homely charity. A wounded officer from Albuera, who is dragging himself -painfully back to Lisbon, reports himself to Hill as he passes his -headquarters. Next morning “the general himself attended me out on my -road, to give me at parting a basket with tea, sugar, bread, butter, -and a large venison pasty.”[103] A grateful sergeant, who bore a letter -to Hill in 1813, remembers how he expected nothing but a nod and an -answer from such a great man, and was surprised to find that the -general ordered his servant to give the messenger a supper, arranged -for his billet that night, and next morn had his haversack stuffed with -bread and meat, presented him with a dollar, and advised him where to -sleep on his return journey.[104] He would give an exhausted private a -drink from the can that had just been brought for his personal use, or -find time to bestow a piece of friendly advice on an unknown subaltern. -This simple, pious, considerate old officer, whose later portraits -show a decided resemblance to Mr. Pickwick, was known everywhere among -the rank and file as “Daddy Hill.” An officer of the 2nd Division -sums up his character in a well-written letter as follows[105]: “The -foundation of all his popularity with the troops was his sterling worth -and heroic spirit, but his popularity was strengthened and increased as -soon as he was personally known. He was the very picture of an English -country gentleman: to the soldiers who came from the rural districts -of old England he represented _home_; his fresh complexion, placid -face, kind eyes, kind voice, the absence of all parade or noise in his -manner delighted them. The displeasure of Sir Rowland was worse to them -than the loudest anger of other generals. His attention to all their -wants and comforts, his visits to the sick in hospital, his vigilant -protection of the poor peasantry, his just severity to marauders, his -generous treatment of such French prisoners and wounded as fell into -his hands, made for him a warm place in the hearts of his soldiery; and -where’er the survivors of that army are now scattered, assuredly Hill’s -name and image are dearly cherished still.” - -[Sidenote: Merits of Sir Rowland Hill] - -The description sounds like that of a benevolent old squire, rather -than that of a distinguished lieutenant-general. Nevertheless, Rowland -Hill was a very great man of war. Wellington liked him as a subordinate -because of his extraordinary punctuality in obedience, and the entire -absence in him of that restless personal ambition which makes many able -men think more of opportunities for distinguishing themselves than of -exact performance of the orders given them. Wherever Hill was, it was -certain that nothing would be risked, and nothing would be forgotten. -His beautiful combination of intelligence and executive power more -than once brought relief to his chief’s mind in a critical moment, -most of all on the march to Bussaco in September, 1810, when it was -all-important to Wellington’s plans that his own detached force under -Hill should join him as soon as Masséna’s similar detached force under -Reynier should have reached the main French army. Hill executed a long -and difficult march over a mountainous country with admirable speed, -and was duly up in line on the day before the battle of Bussaco, which -could not in common prudence have been fought if he had been late. - -This we might have expected from a man of Hill’s character; but what -is more surprising is that when he was trusted—a thing that did not -often occur under Wellington’s _régime_—with a command in which he was -allowed to take the offensive on his own account, he displayed not -only a power of organizing, but a fierce driving energy which none of -Wellington’s more eager and restless subordinates could have surpassed. -Speedy pursuit of an enemy on the move was not one of the great Duke’s -characteristics; he was often, and not unjustly, accused of not making -the best profit out of his victories. But Hill’s rapid following up -of Girard, in November, 1811, ending with the complete surprise and -dispersion or capture of the French force at Arroyo dos Molinos, was -a piece of work which for swift, continuous movement, over mountain -roads, in vile rainy weather, could not have been surpassed by the -best of Napoleon’s lieutenants. Another blow of the most creditable -swiftness and daring was the storming of the forts of Almaraz five -months later, when Hill, with a light force, plunged right into the -middle of the French cantonments and broke the all-important bridge -by which Soult and Marmont were wont to co-operate. The forts were -stormed, the bridge thoroughly destroyed, and Hill was off, and out of -reach, before the neighbouring French divisions were half concentrated. - -But the crowning glory of Hill’s Peninsular service was the one general -action in which he was fortunate enough to hold independent command. -This was at the end of the war, the battle of St. Pierre, near -Bayonne. He was forming the right flank of Wellington’s line when his -communication with the main army was cut off by a rise in the river -Nive, which carried away the bridges by which he communicated with -the main host. Soult, transferring the bulk of his field force, then -in front of Wellington, by means of the bridges in Bayonne town, fell -upon Hill with five divisions. Hill had only two, those which he had -commanded for the last three years, the 2nd and Hamilton’s (now Le -Cor’s) Portuguese. With 15,000 men he fought a defensive battle against -30,000 for the greater part of the short December day. His reserves -were used up, every regiment had charged many times, the losses were -heavy, and it seemed hardly possible to hold on against such odds. But -Hill did so, and at last the reinforcements from the other side of the -river Nive began to appear in the late afternoon, and Soult desisted -from his attack and drew off beaten. This was one of the most desperate -pieces of fighting in the Peninsular War, and Hill was the soul of the -defence. He was seen at every point of danger, and repeatedly led up -rallied regiments in person to save what seemed like a lost battle. -Eye-witnesses speak of him as quite transformed from his ordinary -placidity—a very picture of warlike energy. He was even heard to swear, -a thing so rare that we are assured that this lapse from his accustomed -habits only took place twice during the whole war. The first occasion -was in the desperate melée in the night attack that began the battle of -Talavera. - -[Illustration: _PLATE II._ - -LORD HILL, G.C.B.] - -It is clear that Hill was a man capable of the highest feats in war, -who might have gone very far, if he had been given the chance of a -completely independent command. But such was not his fortune, and in -his last campaign, that of Waterloo, he was almost lost to sight, -as a corps-commander whose troops were operating always under the -immediate eye of Wellington. He survived to a good old age, was made -Commander-in-Chief of the British Army when Wellington gave up the -office on accepting the Premiership in 1827, and held it till within -a few months of his death in 1842. Almost the last recorded words of -the kindly old man upon his death-bed were, “I have a great deal to be -thankful for; I believe I have not an enemy in the world.” And this was -literally true: to know “Daddy Hill” was to love him. - -[Sidenote: Lord Beresford] - -The other lieutenant to whom Wellington repeatedly entrusted a -semi-independent command was one who was neither so blameless nor so -capable as Rowland Hill. Yet William Carr Beresford was by no means to -be despised as a soldier. The illegitimate son of a great Irish peer, -he was put into a marching regiment at seventeen, and saw an immense -amount of service even for those stirring days of the Revolutionary -War, when a British officer was liable to be sent to any of the four -continents in rapid succession. This was literally the case with -Beresford, who was engaged in India, Egypt, the Cape of Good Hope, -Buenos Ayres, and Portugal in the eight years between 1800 and 1808. - -When the Portuguese Government asked for a British general to -reorganize their dilapidated army in 1809, Beresford was the man -selected—partly because he had the reputation of being a good -disciplinarian, partly because he knew the Portuguese tongue, from -having garrisoned Madeira for many months, but mostly (as we are told) -because of political influence. His father’s family had never lost -sight of him, and he was well “pushed” by the Beresford clan, who were -a great power in Ireland, and had to be conciliated by all Governments. - -If this appointment to command the Portuguese Army was a job, we may -say (with Gilbert’s judge) that so far as organization went, it was “a -good job too.” For he did most eminent service in creating order out -of chaos, and produced in the short space of a year a well-disciplined -force that was capable of taking a creditable part in line with the -British Army, and won well-deserved encomiums from Wellington and every -other fair critic for the part that it took at Bussaco, its first -engagement. The new army had not been created without much friction -and discontent: to clear out scores of incapable officers—many of them -_fidalgos_ with great court influence—to promote young and unknown men -to their places, to enforce the rigour of the conscription in a land -where it existed in theory but had always been evaded in practice, -gained Beresford immense unpopularity, which he faced in the most -stolid and unbending fashion. At last the Portuguese Army was up to -strength, and had learnt to obey as well as to fight. The teaching -had been by the most drastic methods: Beresford cashiered officers, -and shot deserters or marauders in the rank and file, with a rigid -disregard alike for personal and court influence, and for public -opinion, which Wellington himself could not have surpassed. He was, -indeed, an honest, inflexible, and hard-working administrator; but -with this and with a personal courage that ran almost to excess his -capacities ended. His virtue in Wellington’s eyes was that, after one -short tussle of wills, he completely and very wisely submitted himself -to be the mere instrument of his greater colleague, and did everything -that he was told to do, working the Portuguese army to the best effect -as an auxiliary force to the British, and making no attempt to assert -an independent authority. Instead of being kept under his hand in a -body, it was cut up into brigades, each of which, with few exceptions, -was simply attached to a British division. - -[Sidenote: Beresford’s Limitations] - -It was no doubt because Beresford showed himself so obedient and loyal, -and exhibited such complete self-abnegation, that Wellington, both -in 1809 and 1811, entrusted him with the command of large detached -forces at a distance from the main army. But the marshal was by no -means up to the task entrusted to him, and after the unhappy experiment -of the first siege of Badajoz, and the ill-fought battle of Albuera, -Wellington removed him from separate command, on the excuse that more -organizing was needed at Lisbon, and kept him either there, or with the -main army (where he had no opportunities of separate command) till the -last year of the war. In 1814 he was for a few weeks entrusted with the -conduct of the expedition to Bordeaux, but as it was unopposed by the -enemy—and was bound to be so, as Wellington well knew—this was giving -him no great responsibility. During the three last years of the war -he was really in a rather otiose and equivocal position, as titular -Commander-in-Chief of an army which was not treated as a unit, but -dispersed abroad among the British divisions. Occasionally he was used -as a corps commander under Wellington’s own eye, as at Toulouse, where -he led the turning column of the 4th and 6th Divisions which broke -down Soult’s flank defences. For such a task, when hard fighting and -obedience to orders was all that was needed, he was a fully competent -lieutenant. It was when thrown on his own resources and forced to make -decisions of his own that he showed himself so much inferior to his -successor Hill. - -Beresford was a very tall and stalwart man of herculean strength—every -one knows of his personal encounter with a Polish lancer at Albuera: -he parried the Pole’s thrust, caught him by the collar, and jerked him -out of his saddle and under his horse’s feet, with one twist of his -powerful arm. His features were singularly rough-cast and irregular, -and a sinister appearance was given to his face by a discoloured and -useless left eye, which had been injured in a shooting accident when -he was quite a young man. The glare of this injured optic is said to -have been discomposing to culprits whom he had to upbraid and admonish, -a task which he always executed with thoroughness. He had been forced -to trample on so many misdemeanants, small and great, during his -five years in command of the Portuguese army, that he enjoyed a very -general unpopularity. But I have never found any case in which he can -be accused of injustice or oppression; the fact was that he had a -great many unsatisfactory subordinates to deal with. His own staff and -the better officers of the Portuguese service liked him well enough, -and the value of his work cannot be too highly praised. He came -little into contact with the British part of the army, but I note that -the 88th, whom he had commanded before the war in Spain began, much -preferred him to their later chief, Picton, and had a kindly memory -of him. There are singularly few tales or anecdotes connected with -his name, from which I deduce that in British military circles he was -neither much loved nor much hated. - -[Sidenote: Early Career of Graham] - -A far more picturesque figure is the third of the three generals to -whom, at one time or another, Wellington committed the charge of a -detached corps, Thomas Graham of Balgowan, later created Lord Lynedoch. -I have already alluded to him in my preface, as in one way the most -typical figure of the epoch—the personification of all that class of -Britons who took arms against France when the Revolutionary War broke -out, as a plain duty incumbent upon them in days when the country and -Crown were in danger. He had seen the Jacobin mob face to face in its -frenzy, in a sufficiently horrid fashion. In 1792 he had taken his -invalid wife—the beautiful Mrs. Graham of Gainsborough’s well-known -picture—to the Riviera, in the vain hope that her consumption might be -stayed. She died, nevertheless, and he started home towards Scotland -with her coffin, to lay her in the grave of his ancestors. On the way -he passed through a town where the crazy hunt after impossible royalist -conspiracies was in full swing. A crowd of drunken National Guards were -seized with the idea that he was an emissary in disguise, bearing arms -to aristocrats. The coffin, they declared, was probably full of pistols -and daggers, and while the unhappy husband struggled in vain to hold -them off, they broke it open, and exposed his wife’s long-dead corpse. -After this incident Thomas Graham not unnaturally conceived the idea -that his one duty in life was to shoot Jacobins. When he had buried his -wife at Methven he was ready for that duty, and the war with France -breaking out only five months after, his opportunity was at hand. -Though a civilian, a Whig member of Parliament, and forty-four years -of age, though he had no knowledge of military affairs, and had never -heard a shot fired in anger, he went to the front at once, and fought -through the siege of Toulon as a sort of volunteer aide-de-camp to Lord -Mulgrave. It is odd that both Julius Cæsar and Oliver Cromwell started -at this same age as soldiers. This was the first of an endless series -of campaigns against the French; Graham got a quasi-military status by -raising at his own expense the 90th Foot, or Perthshire Volunteers, of -which he was in reward made honorary colonel. With the curious rank of -honorary colonel—he never held any lower—he went as British attaché -to the Austrian Army of Italy, getting the post because Englishmen -who could speak both German and Italian were rare. He saw the unhappy -campaigns of 1796–97 under Beaulieu, Würmser, and the Archduke Charles, -being thus one of the few British observers who witnessed Bonaparte’s -first essays in strategy. Then he held staff appointments during the -operations in Minorca and Malta, and again served with the Austrians -in Italy in 1799. After much more service, the last of it as British -attaché with the army of Castaños in Spain, during the Tudela campaign, -he was at last informed that—all precedents notwithstanding—from an -honorary colonelcy he was promoted to be a major-general on the regular -establishment, on account of his long and distinguished service. Down -to 1809 he had seen more fighting than falls to most men, without -owning any proper military rank, for his colonelcy of 1794, which he -had held for fifteen years, was only titular and temporary, and gave -him no regular rank. He had technically never been more than a civilian -with an honorary title! - -Yet in 1810 he was entrusted with the important post of commander of -the British troops in Cadiz, and commenced to take an important part in -the Peninsular War. He was now sixty-two years of age, and would have -been counted past service according to eighteenth century notions. -But his iron frame gave no signs of approaching decay, no fatigue or -privation could tire him, and he was one of the boldest riders in the -army. His portrait shows a man with a regular oval face, a rather -melancholy expression—there is a sad droop in the eyelids—and abundant -white hair, worn rather long. His mouth is firm and inflexible, his -general expression very resolute, but a little tired—that of a man -who has been for nearly twenty years crusading against an enemy with -whom no peace must be made, and who does not yet see the end in sight, -but proposes to fight on till he drops. He was a fine scholar, knew -six languages, had travelled all over Europe, and was such a master -of his pen that both his dispatches and his private letters and diary -are among the best-written and most interesting original material that -exists for this period. - -[Sidenote: Graham at Barrosa] - -The crowning exploit of Graham’s life was the victory which he won, -with every chance against him, at Barrosa on March 7th, 1811, a -wonderful instance of the triumph of a quick eye, and a sudden resolute -blow over long odds. Caught on the march by a sudden flank attack of -Marshal Victor, owing to the imbecile arrangements of the Spanish -General La Peña, under whose orders he was serving, Graham, instead of -waiting to be attacked, which would have been fatal, took the offensive -himself. His troops were strung out on the line of march through a -wood, and there was no time to form a regular order of battle, for the -French were absolutely rushing in upon him. Victor thought that he had -before him an easy victory, over a force surprised in an impossible -posture. But Graham, throwing out a strong line of skirmishers to hold -back the enemy for the few necessary minutes, aligned his men in the -edge of the wood, without regard for brigade or even for battalion -unity, and attacked the French with such sudden swiftness that it -was Victor, and not he, who was really surprised. The enemy was -assailed before he had formed any line of battle, or deployed a single -battalion, and was driven off the field in an hour after a most bloody -fight. Graham led the centre of his own left brigade like a general of -the Middle Ages, riding ten yards ahead of the line with his plumed hat -waving in his right hand, and his white hair streaming in the wind. -This was not the right place for a commanding officer; but the moment -was a desperate one, and all depended on the swiftness and suddenness -of the stroke; there was no manœuvring possible, and no further orders -save to go straight on. Improvising his battle-order in five minutes, -with only 5000 men against 7000, and attacking rather uphill, he won a -magnificent victory, which would have ended in the complete destruction -of the French if the Spaniard La Peña had moved to his aid. But that -wretched officer remained halted with his whole division only two miles -from the field, and did not stir a man to aid his colleague. - -A few months after Barrosa, Graham was moved from Cadiz to join the -main army in Portugal, at the request of Wellington, who gave him the -command of his left wing during the autumn campaign of 1811, and again -through the whole of that of 1813. For the greater part of that of 1812 -Graham was away on sick leave, for the first time in his life, his eyes -having given out from long exposure to the southern sun. Unluckily -for him, his promotion to command a wing of the grand army meant that -he was generally under Wellington’s own eye, with small opportunity -of acting for himself. But his chief chose him to take charge of the -most critical operation of the Vittoria campaign, the long flank march -through the mountains of the Tras-os-Montes, which turned the right -wing of the French and forced them out of position after position in -a running fight of 200 miles. Still outflanking the enemy, it was he -who cut in across the high-road to France at Vittoria, and forced the -beaten army of Jourdan to retire across by-paths, with the loss of all -its artillery, train, baggage, and stores. - -For the dramatic completeness of this splendid old man’s career, we -could have wished that it had ended in 1813. But the Home Government, -seeking for a trustworthy officer to command the expedition to Holland -in the following winter, chose Graham to conduct it, and his last -campaign was marred by a disaster. He drove, it is true, the remnants -of the French army out of Holland, though his force was small—only -7000 men, and formed of raw second battalions hastily collected from -English garrisons. But his daring attempt to escalade the great -fortress of Bergen-op-Zoom, the one stronghold still held by the enemy, -was a sad failure. Taking advantage of a hard frost, which had made -the marsh-defences of that strong town useless for the moment, Graham -planned a midnight attack by four columns, of which two succeeded in -crossing all obstacles and entering the place. But when all seemed -won, the general’s part of the scheme having succeeded to admiration, -the officers in immediate charge of the attack ignored many of their -orders, dispersed their men in unwise petty enterprises, and finally -were attacked and driven out of the town piecemeal by the rallied -garrison. The loss was terrible, fully 2000 men, of whom half were -prisoners. But the bold conception of the enterprise rather than its -failure should be put down to Graham’s account. The mismanagement by -his subordinates was incredible. Wellington, looking over the fortress -a year later, is said to have observed that it must have been extremely -difficult to get in. “But,” he added, “when once in, I wonder how the -devil they ever suffered themselves to be beaten out again.” - -[Illustration: _PLATE III._ - -GENERAL THOMAS GRAHAM, BARON LYNEDOCH, G.C.B., G.C.M.G. - -_From the picture by Sir George Hayter._] - -Graham’s last campaign was marred by this check. But, in the general -distribution of rewards at the peace of 1814, he was given a peerage, -by the title of Lord Lynedoch, and shared in the other honours of -the Peninsular Army. Though sixty-six years old when the war ended, -he survived till 1843, when he had reached the patriarchal age of -ninety-six. He did a good service to his old comrades by founding -the United Service Club, which he originally designed as a place of -rendezvous for old Peninsular officers, of whom he had noticed that -many were lonely men without family ties, like himself, while others, -stranded in London for a few days, had no central spot where they could -count on meeting old friends.[106] His portrait hangs, as is right, in -the most prominent place in the largest room of the institution which -he founded. - -[Sidenote: Graham and his Admirers] - -I have never found one unkindly word about General Graham, in the -numerous diaries and autobiographies of the officers and men who -served under him. All comment on his stately presence, his thoughtful -courtesy, and his unfailing justice and benevolence. “I may truly say -he lives in their affections; they not only looked up to him with -confidence as their commander, but they esteemed and respected him -as their firm friend and protector, which, indeed, he always showed -himself to be.”[107] “What could not Britons do, when led by such a -chief?” asks another.[108] I might make a considerable list of the -names of British officers who relate their personal obligation to his -kindness;[109] but perhaps the most convincing evidence of all is -that of the French Colonel Vigo-Roussillon, one of the enemies whom -he captured at Barrosa, who has no words strong enough to express the -delicate generosity with which he was treated while a wounded prisoner -at Cadiz. Graham came to visit him on his sick bed, sent his own -physician to attend him, and made copious provision for his food and -lodging. For a conscientious hatred for French influence, whether that -of the red Jacobin republic, or that of the Napoleonic despotism, did -not prevent him from showing his benevolence to individual Frenchmen -thrown upon his mercy.[110] - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -WELLINGTON’S LIEUTENANTS—PICTON, CRAUFURD, AND OTHERS - - -If Graham had no enemies, and was loved by every one with whom he -came in contact, the same cannot be said of the two distinguished -officers with whom I have next to deal, General Robert Craufurd and Sir -Thomas Picton. They were both men of mark, Craufurd even more so than -Picton; they both fell in action at the moment of victory; they were -both employed by Wellington for the most responsible services, and he -owed much to their admirable executive powers; but both of them were -occasionally out of his good graces. Each of them had many admiring -friends and many bitter enemies, whose reasons for liking and disliking -them it is not hard to discover. Both of them were to a certain extent -embittered and disappointed men, who thought that their work had never -received adequate recognition, a view for which there was considerable -justification. In other respects they were wholly unlike; their -characters differed fundamentally, so much so that when they met it was -not unfrequently to clash and quarrel. - -Picton, a Welsh country gentleman by birth, was a typical eighteenth -century soldier, who had (after the old fashion) entered the army at -thirteen years of age, and had gone on foreign service at fifteen. -His manners, we gather, were those of the barrack-room; he was a hard -drinking, hard swearing, rough-and-ready customer. Wellington, who -was not squeamish, called him “a rough, foul-mouthed devil as ever -lived,[111] but he always behaved extremely well on service.” The -notorious Duke of Queensberry, “Old Q,” was his friend and admirer, and -left him a good legacy of £5000 in his will. Old Q’s model heroes were -not of the Wesleyan Methodist type. One of the strongest impressions -left on one’s mind by the diaries of those who served under him is that -of his astounding power of malediction. Kincaid’s account of the sack -of Ciudad Rodrigo is dominated by “the voice of Sir Thomas Picton, -with the power of twenty trumpets proclaiming damnation to all and -sundry.”[112] But if he was destitute of all the graces and some of the -virtues, Picton was a very fine soldier, with a quick eye, unlimited -self-confidence, and the courage of ten bulldogs. He had, when once -the Revolutionary War commenced, made his way to the front with great -rapidity. A captain in 1794, he had become a brigadier-general by -1799, and his promotion had been won by undeniable good service. For -his ultimate misfortune, he was made in 1797 governor of the newly -conquered Spanish island of Trinidad in the West Indies, while still -only a colonel. This was the beginning of his troubles; the post was -lucrative, dangerous, and difficult. The garrison was insufficient, -and the island was swarming with disbanded Spanish soldiers, runaway -negro slaves, French adventurers, and privateers and pirates of all -nations from the Spanish Main. Picton had to create order from chaos, -and then to keep it up; his methods were drastic: the lash and the -pillory, the branding-irons, and, where necessary, military execution. -It does not appear on impartial examination that he ever showed himself -self-seeking, partial, or corrupt in his administration; he merely -tried, in his own rough way, to dragoon into order a very unruly and -lawless community. The majority of the better classes approved his -rule, which, as one of them said, “was of the sort required by the -colony” where a governor “had to make himself feared as well as -beloved.” Naturally he made many enemies, white, black, and brown, -English and Spanish, adventurers and officials. They kept up a rain -of petitions against him at the Colonial Office, in which he was -represented as a sort of Nero. The most acrid and ingenious of them, a -Colonel Fullarton, succeeded in finding a method of attack which was -certain to have a great vogue when tried in England. The old Spanish -law still ran in Trinidad, and under it various forms of durance and -torture were permitted against suspected persons under arrest. A -case had happened in which a mulatto girl, who had been concerned in -stealing 2000 dollars from a Spanish tobacco merchant, was put to the -barbarous punishment of picketing (standing with the heels on a stake) -by the local magistrates, to make her confess who had taken the money, -and where it was hidden. After a few minutes she admitted that her -lover had stolen it, with her aid and consent; and this was proved to -be the fact. Thus under Picton’s rule, and (as it turned out) with his -knowledge, a woman had been put to the torture, though the torture was -slight and the woman guilty. - -[Sidenote: Picton in Trinidad] - -Picton, on returning to England, was therefore accused by Colonel -Fullarton of many tyrannical acts, but, above all, of having put -a woman to the torture in order to extract a confession, a thing -abhorrent alike to the laws of England and to the common sentiments -of humanity. There followed a long political trial, (for it became a -matter of Whig and Tory partizanship), in which the Government finally -dropped the prosecution, because it was amply proved that Spanish, not -English, law was running in Trinidad in 1801, since the island had not -been annexed till the peace of Amiens in the following year, and that -the governor had simply allowed the local magistrates to act according -to their usual practice. The other charges all fell through. - -Nevertheless, the mud stuck, as Fullarton had intended, and Picton -was generally remembered as the man who had permitted a woman to be -tortured. The trial had dragged over several years, and had been -most costly to the accused. Since there had been no verdict, owing -to the prosecution having simply been dropped, he had not even the -satisfaction of being able to say that he had been acquitted by a jury -of his countrymen. There was a sort of slur, however unjust, upon his -name. - -It therefore argued considerable independence and disregard of public -opinion on the part of Wellington, when he wrote home to ask that -Picton might be sent out to him to command a division,[113] purely on -his military record as a hard fighter. The general came out to Portugal -with a name unfavourably known, and to colleagues and subordinates -who were prepared to view him with a critical eye. “It is impossible -to deny,” writes an officer who served under him, “that a very strong -dislike towards the general was prevalent. His conduct in the island of -Trinidad ... had impressed all ranks with an unfavourable opinion of -the man. His first appearance was looked for with no little anxiety. -When he reached the ground, accompanied by his staff, every eye was -turned towards him, and his appearance and demeanour were closely -observed. He looked to be a man between fifty and sixty, and I never -saw a more perfect specimen of a splendid-looking soldier. In vain did -those who had set him down as a cruel tyrant seek to find out such a -delineation in his countenance. On the contrary, there was a manly -open frankness in his appearance that gave a flat contradiction to the -slander. And in truth Picton was _not_ a tyrant, nor did he ever act -as such during the many years that he commanded the 3rd Division. But -if his countenance did not depict him as cruel, there was a sarcastic -severity about it, and a certain curl of the lip, that marked him as -one who despised rather than courted applause. The stern countenance, -robust frame, caustic speech, and austere demeanour told in legible -characters that he was one not likely to say a thing and then not do -as he had said. In a word, his appearance denoted him a man of strong -mind and strong frame.”[114] - -[Sidenote: Picton and the 88th Foot] - -It was considered characteristic that he ended his first inspection of -the division by holding a drum-head court-martial on two soldiers who -had stolen a goat, and witnessing their punishment. He then rode up to -the regiment to which the culprits belonged, the 88th, and “in language -not of that bearing which an officer of his rank should use,” said, -“You are not known in the army by the name of Connaught Rangers, but -by the name of Connaught _footpads_,” with some unnecessary remarks on -their country and their religion. - -This untoward incident was the commencement of a long feud between -Picton and the 88th, which endured all through the war, and led, at -the end of it, to the Rangers refusing to subscribe to the laudatory -address and plate which the rest of the 3rd Division offered to their -general, after nearly five years of glorious service. Yet the feud was -not incompatible with a good deal of reluctant esteem on both sides. -On the morning after the storm of Ciudad Rodrigo, in which the Rangers -had taken a most gallant part, we are told that some of the men, more -than usually elated in spirits, called out to their commander, “Well, -general, we gave you a cheer last night: it’s your turn now.” Picton, -smiling, took off his hat and said, “Here, then, you drunken set of -brave rascals, hurrah! And we’ll soon be at Badajoz,” to which scene of -even greater glory for the 3rd Division he did conduct them within a -few weeks. - -The considerable string of stories, true, half-true, or apocryphal, -which cling round the name of Picton relate in about equal proportions, -on the one hand, to his extreme intrepidity and coolness in action, -and, on the other, to his vehemence alike of language and of action, -which struck terror into the objects of his wrath. The best of the -former with which I am acquainted comes from the same diarist, -Grattan, of the 88th, whom I have already been quoting. It relates -to the day of El Bodon (September 25, 1811), when the 3rd Division, -caught in a somewhat isolated position owing to one of Wellington’s few -tactical slips, was retreating in column across a level upland, beset -by Montbrun and three brigades of French cavalry. “For six miles across -a perfect flat, without the slightest protection from any incident of -the ground, without artillery, almost without cavalry, did the 3rd -Division continue its march. During the whole time the French cavalry -never quitted us, and six light guns, advancing with them and taking -the division in flank and rear, poured in a frightful fire of grape -and canister. General Picton conducted himself with his accustomed -coolness. He rode on the left flank of the column, and repeatedly -cautioned the different battalions to mind the quarter distance and the -‘tellings off.’ At last we got within a mile of our entrenched camp at -Fuente Guinaldo, when Montbrun, impatient lest his prey should escape -from his grasp, ordered his troopers to bring up their right shoulders -and incline towards our column. The movement was not exactly bringing -up his squadrons into line, but it was the next thing to it. They were -within half pistol-shot of us. Picton took off his hat, and holding it -over his eyes as a shade from the sun, looked sternly but anxiously at -the French. The clatter of the horses and the clanking of the scabbards -were so great, as the right squadron moved up, that many thought it the -forerunner of a general charge. Some mounted officer called out, ‘Had -we not better form square?’ ‘No,’ replied Picton; ‘it is but a _ruse_ -to frighten us, and it _won’t do_.’ In half an hour more we were safe -within our lines.”[115] - -This was a fine example of cool resolution, and ended happily what -had been a very anxious hour for Wellington. But I imagine that the -occasion on which the Commander-in-Chief owed most to the commander of -the 3rd Division was the storm of Badajoz. It will be remembered that -on that bloody night the main attack on the breaches failed completely, -despite of the desperate exertions of the 4th and Light Divisions. -The attempt by escalade upon the towering walls of the castle, which -proved successful and caused the fall of the fortress, had not been in -Wellington’s original plan, but was suggested to him by Picton, who -had viewed the breaches, and had not been convinced that they could -be carried. Picton pleaded that he might be allowed to try the castle -with his own division as a subsidiary operation.[116] He succeeded -triumphantly, and so saved the day. If he had not made his offer, the -chance of the city’s falling would have been infinitely less, even -though a brigade of the 5th Division did succeed in entering Badajoz at -another point remote from the fatal breaches. Though Picton got plenty -of praise for his courage on this night, it was not generally known -that he ought to have been praised even more for his prescience. - -[Sidenote: Picton at Badajoz] - -Numberless instances of Picton’s skill and tenacity might be quoted, -all through the six years of his service under Wellington. But the -anecdote which best illustrates his Spartan courage is one which -belongs to the last three days of his life. At Quatre Bras, where his -division so long held back the vehement attacks of Ney, he received -a musket ball in his left side, which, though it gave a somewhat -glancing blow and did not penetrate, broke two of his ribs. Believing -that the battle would be continued next day, he resolved not to return -himself as wounded, lest the surgeons should insist on sending him to -the rear. He roughly bound up the wound with the assistance of his -soldier servant, and was on his horse throughout June 17, conducting -the retreat of his division. On the 18th, as every one knows, he was -killed—shot through the head—while leading the decisive charge which -beat d’Erlon’s corps from the heights of Mont St. Jean. Only when his -body was stripped, to be laid in the coffin, was it discovered that -he had gone into action at Waterloo with a dangerous, perhaps mortal, -wound two days old upon him. For his side was so swollen and blackened -around the broken ribs, that the surgeons thought that the neglected -wound might very possibly have caused his death, if he had come -unharmed through the battle of June 18. - -Such virtues were not incompatible with grave faults. Picton’s violent -language and reckless disregard of common forms of propriety form the -subject of many tales. When he thought that the assistant engineer who -guided the 3rd Division at the storm of Badajoz had led them astray, he -drew his sword, and with an oath said that he would cut the blind fool -down if he had gone wrong. This we have on the first-hand evidence of -that officer, who was fortunately able to demonstrate that the right -path had been taken.[117] A better-known tale is that of Picton and -the commissary, a story which has also been attributed to Craufurd, -and recently by Mr. Fortescue to General Sherbrooke. The commissary -had been ordered, during one of Wellington’s long marches, to have the -rations of the 3rd Division ready at a certain spot at a certain hour. -They were not forthcoming, but only a series of excuses, to account -for their non-arrival. Picton grimly pointed to a neighbouring tree -and said, “Well, sir, if you don’t get the rations for my division to -the place mentioned by twelve o’clock to-morrow, I will hang you on -it at half-past.” The commissary rode straight to Lord Wellington and -complained, with much injured dignity, of the general’s violent and -ungentlemanly language. His lordship coolly remarked, “Oh, he said -that he’d _hang_ you, did he?” “Yes, my lord.” “Well, General Picton -is a man of his word. I think you’d better get the rations up in -time.” Further advice was unnecessary; the rations were there to the -moment.[118] It is odd to find that many years after Picton’s death -a question was asked in Parliament, and a controversy raged in the -newspapers, as to which of three named commissaries was the object of -Picton’s anger. - -It would be wrong, however, to paint Picton as a mere vial of wrath, -foaming into ungovernable rage in and out of season. When he was -angry he generally had good cause; it was only the over-vehemence of -his language that caused him to become a centre of legends. Odd as -it may seem, the rank and file did not consider him a tyrant; it was -acknowledged that he was very just, that he never punished without -hearing the defence, that he was capable of pardoning, that when he -hit hard he did so not without reason. A sergeant of the 45th wrote on -him thus: “He was strict sometimes, especially about plunder, always -talking about how wrong it was to plunder the poor people because -countries happened to be at war. He used to flog the men when they were -found out; but where he flogged, many generals took life. Besides this, -the men thought that he had their welfare at heart. Every soldier in -the division knew that if he had anything to complain of, ‘Old Picton’ -would listen to his story, and set him right if he could. On the whole, -our fellows always thought him a _kind_ general, in spite of his strong -language.” - -[Sidenote: Picton and Wellington] - -This same sense of justice is brought out in the diaries of several -officers, who speak in feeling terms of his endeavours to get obscure -merit rewarded, and to keep down jobbery in promotion,[119] or tyranny -of senior officers over their juniors. He was very accessible, and -even friendly and considerate, to his subordinates. This familiarity, -which endeared him to subalterns, was (as we have already noticed) not -agreeable to Lord Wellington. Their intercourse was formal and not very -frequent. Wellington once went out of his way to say that it was not -true that he had ever had a quarrel with Picton, or been on anything -but good terms with him. But while acknowledging his services, he -never pretended that he had any personal liking for him. - -Picton always thought that he suffered grave injustice at the end of -the war, by not being included in the list of five Peninsular officers -who were made peers for their services. “If the coronet were lying -on the crown of a breach, I should have as good a chance as any of -them,” was his caustic remark. The explanation formally given for his -omission was that all the five generals honoured, Beresford, Hill, -Graham, Hope, and Stapleton Cotton, had held for some time “distinct -commands,” and that Picton had not. But though this explanation held -good for the first three, it did not really cover the cases of Hope and -Cotton, whose independent commands had been little more than nominal; -and Picton had on several occasions—notably in the Pyrenees—exercised -independent authority in a very similar way. The fact was that he was -an unpopular man, and that the Ministry omitted him, while Wellington -made no effort to push his claims. He showed his displeasure by -announcing his intention to retire from the army in 1814, and would -have done so in the next year, if Napoleon’s return from Elba had not -called him into the field, to die at Waterloo. - -To finish our sketch of this curious and contradictory character, we -must mention that Picton was a profound despiser of all sorts of pomp -and ceremony. His dress, except on gala days, was careless and often -unmilitary. He fought Quatre-Bras, as several witnesses remarked, in a -tall beaver hat, and in the Vittoria campaign, because he was suffering -from his eyes, wore a very broad-brimmed variety of the same type. -His aide-de-camps copied him, as was natural, in their disregard for -appearance, and it is said that from their manners and dress they were -known as “the bear and ragged staff,”[120] a term that has been applied -on several more recent occasions to similar parties. - -[Illustration: _PLATE IV._ - -GENERAL SIR THOMAS PICTON, K.C.B.] - -[Sidenote: General Robert Craufurd] - -A very different man from Sir Thomas Picton was the last of the -divisional generals whose character we have to deal with, Robert -Craufurd. They were both effective weapons in the hands of Wellington, -but Picton’s efficiency was rather that of the battering ram, while -Craufurd’s was rather that of the rapier. Robert Craufurd, like Picton, -came to the Peninsula as rather a disappointed man, his grievance -being that, despite much brilliant service, he had dropped behind in -promotion, and found himself a junior brigadier-general, when men -several years his junior, like Hill, Beresford, and Wellington himself, -were holding posts of much greater importance. Craufurd was one of -our few scientific soldiers; he had studied so far back as 1782 the -tactics of the army of Frederic the Great at Berlin, and had translated -into English the official Prussian treatise on the Art of War. His -knowledge of German, which none other of Wellington’s officers save -Graham possessed, had caused him, in 1794, to be given the important -post of military attaché with the Austrian Army in the Netherlands, -and afterwards on the Rhine, and he followed Coburg and the Archduke -Charles for three years through a series of campaigns, in which failure -was much more frequent than success. When the war broke out once more -between Austria and the French republic, he was again sent in 1799 to -serve with his old friends, and accompanied the headquarters of General -Hotze’s army in Switzerland, till he was called off to share in the -Duke of York’s ill-managed invasion of Holland in the end of the same -year. Like Graham, therefore, Craufurd had the sorrow of witnessing -a long series of disasters, for which he was not in the least -responsible. As his reports and dispatches show, he discharged his duty -with zeal and excellent capacity; but his sarcastic tongue and violent -temper seem to have stood in the way of his promotion. A major in 1794, -after thirteen years’ service, he was still only a lieutenant-colonel -in 1801, and during these years had seen numberless comrades climb -over his head, though he had all the while been discharging important -duties in a fashion which won the admiration of all with whom he came -into personal contact. It looks as if the constant reports of disaster, -which he had to make, had connected his name in official circles with -the notion of ill-luck. In 1801, disappointed of an official post in -Ireland for which he had applied, he went on half-pay, and entered -Parliament as member for a pocket-borough which chanced to be in his -brother’s gift.[121] For the next five years he was a constant speaker -in Parliament on military topics, and a very bitter critic of the -policy of Pitt, Dundas, and Addington. His views as to the proper -organization of the British forces, in first and second line, for the -beating off of French invasion were set forth at vast length, and -always clashed with those of ministers. It is only fair to say that he -was in the main right, and they wrong; he pleaded for the reduction of -the numberless ill-disciplined volunteer corps, and wished to see in -the first line a very large regular army raised for short service, and -behind it the second line, levied by conscription, as a sort of _levée -en masse_ trained for irregular fighting, and not expected to manœuvre -or to take part in pitched battles. Craufurd’s virulent criticism was -very telling, but hardly likely to help his promotion as a military -man, so long as the Addington and Pitt ministries were in power. -When, however, Pitt died, and the Whig administration called “All the -Talents” came into power, the new War Secretary, William Windham, was -disposed to do everything possible for Craufurd, who was not only his -personal friend, but often advised him on matters of organization and -technical military subjects. - -[Sidenote: Craufurd at Buenos Ayres] - -At last, after five years spent in rather acrid parliamentary -criticism, Craufurd was given an opportunity by his friend Windham -to see service in a higher post than had ever before fallen to his -lot. Though only just promoted to a full colonelcy, he was given the -command of a brigade of 4000 men, destined for a distant expedition. -This adventure was one of the most hare-brained of the many futile -schemes of the unlucky cabinet then in power. Craufurd was to take -in hand nothing less than a voyage round Cape Horn, for the conquest -of Chili! He never saw the straits of Magellan, however, for his -force, after it had sailed, was distracted to form part of the unhappy -armament under General Whitelocke, which made the disastrous attack on -Buenos Ayres in 1807. Placed in the front, in command of Whitelocke’s -Light Brigade, and thrust forward into the tangle of streets among -which the incapable general dispersed his troops in many small columns, -Craufurd fought his way so far on that he was surrounded, cut off from -the main body, and compelled to capitulate with the remnants of his -men. Thus his first chance of distinction in the field, at the head of -a considerable force, ended in absolute disaster. He was acquitted of -all blame at Whitelocke’s court-martial, but the thought that he was -remembered as the officer who had surrendered a British brigade rankled -in his mind, and sat heavy on his soul down to the end of his life. - -The fact that he was held blameless, however, was marked by his -appointment to the command of a brigade in the Peninsular Army in 1808. -But his usual ill-luck seemed at first to attend him. He arrived too -late for Vimeiro; when serving under Moore he was detached from the -main army, and did not fight at Corunna. In the next year, returning -to serve under Wellesley, he was late for Talavera, though to reach -the battlefield he made his well-remembered march of forty-three miles -in twenty-six hours, which Napier, by a slip of memory, has converted -into an impossible achievement—a march of sixty-two miles in that time, -which not even Craufurd and the famous 43rd, 52nd, and 95th could have -accomplished. - -[Sidenote: Craufurd and the Light Division] - -From 1809 onward Craufurd at last got his chance, and for the greater -part of three years[122] was in command of Wellington’s advance, his -“Light Brigade” of 1809 becoming the “Light Division” in 1810. At -length he got what Fate had denied him in all his earlier career, a -post of great distinction and responsibility, and a sight of victory; -for fifteen years he had been witnessing nothing but retreats and -disasters. On his happy days, and they were many, Craufurd was -undoubtedly the most brilliant lieutenant that Wellington ever owned. -Yet he was not trusted by his chief as Hill, for example, was trusted, -because of his occasional lapses from caution, and from the blind -obedience which his chief exacted. Occasionally he took risks, or -ventured to modify the orders given him—the faults of an eager and -ambitious spirit in an hour of excitement. - -His achievements were great and noble. The most splendid of them was -the protection of the north-east frontier of Portugal throughout the -whole spring and summer of 1810, when he was set with his own small -division and two regiments of cavalry to lie out many miles in front -of the main army, and to watch the assembling host of Masséna, till -the moment when it should make its forward move for serious invasion. -For five months he guarded a long front against an enemy of sixfold -force, without allowing his line to be pierced, or suffering the French -to gain any information as to what was going on in his rear. This -was a great feat, only accomplished by the most complete and minute -organization of his very modest resources. There were fifteen fords -along the Agueda, the river whose line he had to keep, all of which had -to be watched in dry weather, and many even when the stream was high. -The French had 3000 cavalry opposite him in March and April, 5000 in -May and June, the latter a force exceeding in numbers the total of his -whole division. Behind the hostile cavalry screen he knew that there -were two full army corps, or over 40,000 men; and many detachments of -this infantry lay only four or five miles from Craufurd’s outposts, and -might attack him at any moment. Yet he never suffered any surprise; -so well were his observation-posts placed and managed, that the least -movement of the enemy was reported to him in an incredibly short time. -The whole web of communications quivered at the slightest touch, and -the Light Division was concentrated ready to fight or to retreat, as -prudence dictated, long before the attack could develop. So wonderfully -had he trained his troops that any battalion, as Napier records, was -ready under arms within seven minutes from the first alarm signal, -and within a quarter of an hour could be in order of battle on its -appointed post, with its baggage loaded and assembled ready for -departure at a convenient distance to the rear. - -As his aide-de-camp, Shaw Kennedy, the historian of this summer, -writes, “To understand Craufurd’s operations the _calculation_ must -never be lost sight of, for it was on calculation that he acted all -along.” Special reports were made of the numerous fords of the Agueda -_every_ morning, and the rapidity of its rises was periodically marked. -Beacons were placed on conspicuous heights, so as to communicate -information as to the enemy’s offensive movements. To ensure against -mistakes in the night, pointers were kept at the stations of -communication, directed to the beacons. The cavalry regiment at the -outposts was the first Hussars of the King’s German Legion, a veteran -corps, chosen because its officers were considered superior in scouting -power to that of any other light cavalry unit with the army. Craufurd, -knowing German well, communicated with each of its squadron leaders -directly; each knew his own duty for the front that he covered, and -each worked out his part admirably. The general was untiring, could -remain on horseback unwearied for almost any length of time, and knew -personally every ford, defile, and by-path. Hence nothing was left to -chance.[123] - -[Sidenote: Craufurd and Wellington] - -It was a pity that Craufurd ended this splendid piece of service, which -lasted over five months of daily danger, by fighting the unnecessary -“Combat of the Coa” on July 4, 1810. Staying a day too long beyond that -stream despite of Wellington’s clear direction to retire the moment -that he was hard pressed, he was suddenly attacked by the whole of -Ney’s corps, 20,000 men or more, and forced over the Coa, with loss -which might have been great but for the excellence of the battalions -he had trained and the cool-headed tactical skill of his regimental -officers. He held the bridge of the Coa successfully when he had -crossed it, and lost no more than 300 men; but he had disobeyed orders -and risked his division. Wellington was justly displeased, and let -his lieutenant know it. But he did not rebuke him in his dispatches, -and continued him in his command. He wrote home in a confidential -letter, “You will say, ‘Why not accuse Craufurd?’ I answer, ‘Because -if I am to be hanged for it, I cannot accuse a man who meant well, -and whose error was one of judgment, not of intention.’” But for the -future he kept Craufurd nearer to himself, and did not place him so -far away that he had much chance of trying strategical experiments on -his own responsibility. Even so, there were other occasions on which -the general’s proneness to think for himself got him into trouble. -One was on September 25, 1811, on the day of the combat of El Bodon, -when Craufurd, thrown forward into a hazardous position by his chief’s -orders, was twelve hours late in joining the main army. He had been -told to make a night march, but waited till dawn, because he was moving -in a difficult and broken country full of ravines and torrents, where -he judged that movement in the dark was dangerous. By his delay the -army was concentrated half a day later than Wellington intended. “I -am glad to see you safe,” observed the Commander-in-Chief with some -asperity, as the Light Division filed into the scantily manned position -at Fuente Guinaldo. “Oh, I was in no danger, I assure you.” “But _I_ -was, from your conduct,” answered Wellington. Whereupon Craufurd -remarked to his staff, “He’s d——d crusty to-day.”[124] In this case -it must be remarked, in justice to Craufurd, that it was his chief -who had placed him in the hazardous position, not himself, and that -his judgment that the night march was impracticable was very probably -correct. But he had disobeyed an order, and it was remembered against -him by the inflexible Wellington. - -Against these lapses must be set a long career of careful and -scientific soldiering, with movements of brilliant manœuvring, and -sudden strokes, in which no other Peninsular general could vie with -him. The repulse of Ney’s corps at Bussaco was perhaps the most -glorious exploit of Craufurd and his Light Division. The way in which -the French on this occasion were detained and harassed by light troops, -and then, just as they reached the crest of the position, charged and -swept downhill by the rush of a much inferior force, launched at the -right moment, was a beautiful example of tactics. The most astonishing -part of it was that, by his careful choice of a position, and judicious -concealment of his line till the critical minute, Craufurd beat his -enemy with hardly any loss; he had only 177 casualties, the French -opposed to him over 1200. Yet there was another feat which, though less -showy, was probably an even greater example of tactical skill than -the stroke at Bussaco. This was the advance and retreat of the Light -Division at Fuentes de Oñoro (May 5, 1811), when Craufurd was sent out -of the main British position to rescue the 7th Division, which was cut -off and nearly surrounded by an overwhelming force of French cavalry. -Having disengaged the compromised division, Craufurd had to retreat -back to the main body with five brigades of fine cavalry, aided by -horse artillery, surging round him on all sides, and seeking for an -opportunity to burst in. To retreat in square across two miles of open -plateau, very well adapted for the action of horsemen, was a delicate -and dangerous task. Yet Craufurd achieved it with perfect security, -and brought in his whole division to Wellington’s position with a loss -of less than fifty men. As an exhibition of nerve and skill it even -exceeded Picton’s retreat at El Bodon, for the French horse on this -occasion were more numerous, and flushed with previous success, and the -Light Division was a smaller body than the 3rd division by 4000 men to -5200. The distance covered, however, during the crisis of retreat at -Fuentes was much shorter, only two miles to seven at El Bodon. - -Craufurd fell in action before 1812 was many days old, being killed -by a chance shot while watching and directing the storm of the lesser -breach at Ciudad Rodrigo from the further side of the glacis (January -19). Otherwise his peculiar talents would no doubt have been exhibited -in commanding the rear-guard during the retreat from Burgos, and the -advance during the campaign of Vittoria. The character of the fighting -in the Pyrenees would also have suited admirably his particular style -of management. He was bitterly missed by his officers, Charles Alten, -his successor in command of the Light Division being a general of much -more pedestrian quality,[125] who might never fail to make an attempt -to obey Wellington’s orders to the best of his ability, but could -never supplement them by any improvisation of his own, of which he was -incapable. The operations of the Light Division after Craufurd’s death -were always admirable so far as the conduct of officers and men went, -but there was no longer any genius in the way in which they were led. - -[Sidenote: Craufurd’s Faults] - -Craufurd, unlike Hill or Graham, and like his rival Picton, had many -enemies. He was a strict disciplinarian, to his officers even more -than to his men, and had a quick temper and a caustic tongue. His -anger used to vent itself not in bursts of swearing, such as Picton -would indulge in, but by well-framed and lucid speeches of bitter -sarcasm, which probably gave more offence than any amount of oaths. -Being a highly educated man, and a practised parliamentary speaker, -he could put an amount of polished contempt into a rebuke which was -not easily forgotten. It was probably this trick that made enemies of -the Napiers, both of whom speak very bitterly of him in their diaries -and other writings, though William Napier in his history gives him the -due credit for his many brilliant achievements.[126] Several others of -his officers speak bitterly of his intellectual arrogance; one calls -him a “tyrant”; another says that he never forgot a grudge. But he had -no fewer friends than enemies; many of the best of his subordinates, -like Shaw Kennedy and Campbell, loved him well, and (what is more -surprising) the rank and file, on whom his wrath often fell in the form -of the lash, felt not only confidence but enthusiasm for him. The best -of all his eulogies comes from a 95th man, Rifleman Harris, and is well -worth quoting, for its simple manliness. - -“I do not think I ever admired any man who wore the British uniform -more than I did General Craufurd. I could fill a book with descriptions -of him, for I frequently had my eye upon him in the hurry of action. -The Rifles liked him, but they feared him, for he could be terrible -when insubordination showed itself in the ranks. ‘You think because -you are riflemen that you may do whatever you think proper,’ said he -one day to the miserable and savage crew around him on the retreat to -Corunna; ‘but I’ll teach you the difference before I have done with -you.’ I remember one evening during that retreat he detected two men -straying away from the main body; it was in an early stage of that -disastrous flight, and Craufurd knew that he must keep his division -together. He halted the brigade with a voice of thunder, ordered a -drum-head court-martial on the instant, and they were sentenced to a -hundred a-piece. While the hasty trial was taking place, Craufurd, -dismounting from his horse, stood in the midst, looking stern and angry -as a worried bulldog. He did not like retreating, that man. - -“When the trial was over, it was too dark to inflict the punishment. -He marched all night on foot, and when morning dawned his hair, beard, -and eyebrows were covered with the frost; we were all in the same -condition. Scarcely had dawn appeared when the general called a halt, -among the snow on the hills. Ordering a square to be formed, he spoke -to the brigade. - -“‘Although I shall obtain the good will neither of the officers nor of -the men here by so doing, I am resolved to punish those men according -to the sentence awarded, even though the French are at our heels. Begin -with Daniel Howans.’ - -“The men were brought out, and their Lieutenant-Colonel, Hamilton Wade, -at the same time stepped forward, and lowering his sword, requested he -would forgive these men, as they were both of them good soldiers, who -had fought in all the battles of Portugal. ‘I order _you_, sir,’ said -the general, ‘to do your duty. These men shall be punished.’ After -seventy-five lashes, Craufurd stopped the flogging. But before he put -the brigade in motion again, he gave us another short address, pretty -much after this style— - -“‘I give you all notice that I shall halt the brigade again the very -first moment I perceive any man disobeying my orders, and try him by -court-martial on the spot.’ He then gave the word, and we resumed our -march. - -[Sidenote: Craufurd’s Severity] - -“Many who read this may suppose that it was a cruel and unnecessary -severity, under the dreadful and harassing circumstances of that -retreat: but I, who was there, a common soldier in the regiment to -which these men belonged, say that it was quite necessary. No man but -one formed of stuff like General Craufurd could have saved the brigade -from perishing altogether. If he flogged two, he saved hundreds from -death by his management.” - -There was a curious anecdote concerning Craufurd’s funeral published in -the _Saturday Review_ lately,[127] from the unpublished reminiscences -of a contemporary, which illustrates well enough the reverence with -which the Light Division looked upon its old chief. One of his -strongest principles had been that troops on the march must never -make a detour to avoid fordable streams or deep mud, nor break their -ranks to allow each man to pick shallow water, or hard stones among -the wet. The delay so caused was, he held, such a hindrance to rapid -movement that it must not be allowed. He had been known to flog men who -straggled from the ranks in the water, in order to fill their bottles, -or to stoop down to take a long drink.[128] He had even caused an -officer, whom he caught evading a wetting by riding pick-a-back upon -his soldier-servant, to be set down with a splash in the middle of a -stream.[129] Coming back from Craufurd’s funeral, the leading company -of the Light Division passed by an excavation at the rear of the siege -works, half-filled by mud and water. Instead of turning its end to -avoid the wet, the men looked at the inundation, pulled themselves -together, and marched straight through it, with great regularity and -steadiness, as if they were passing before a general officer at a -review. The whole division followed through the slush. It seemed to -them that the best testimony to their old commander’s memory was to -honour his best-known theory, when he was no longer there to enforce -its acceptance by his usual drastic methods. - -I could write much more of this notable character, with all its -faults and merits. But so much must suffice. Nor have I space to tell -of the other senior generals of the Peninsular War, though some of -them, such as Leith and Cole, were great fighting men, just the tools -that suited Wellington’s hand. They were, however, never trusted -with independent commands, so that it is impossible to judge of -their full mental stature. I should be inclined to think very highly -of Cole from his conduct at Albuera, for it was he who ordered, on -his own responsibility, without any permission from Beresford, the -famous advance of the Fusilier Brigade and Harvey’s Portuguese, which -turned into a victory that most perilous battle.[130] But of most -of Wellington’s divisional officers we can only say that they were -competent for the task set them—the vigorous carrying out of orders -which were given them, but in whose framing they had no part. At the -most, tactical skill in execution can be attributed to them, and of -this there was no lack, as witness details of Salamanca, Vittoria, -and the scattered fighting in the Pyrenees. Almost as much can be -predicated of some of the great brigadiers, who managed their details -well, but never had the chance of showing their full powers. It would -be easy to make a long list of them; at least Kempt, Pack, Barns, -Mackinnon, Colborne, Hay, Lumley, Ross, Halkett, Byng, Pakenham, -Beckwith, and Barnard should be included in the list. Some of them died -or were invalided early, others commanded brigades at Waterloo again, -but none, save Byng, of this string of names, was ever given permanent -command of a division, though several of them had held the interim -charge of one in the Peninsula, when their regular chiefs were sick or -absent. Ross and Pakenham alone were promoted to a separate command, -both in America. The former had charge of the expedition which went to -the Potomac and Chesapeake in 1813–14; he took Washington by a vigorous -stroke, but fell in action shortly after, while conducting an attack -on Baltimore, which ceased when he fell. Pakenham’s expedition to New -Orleans was a series of misfortunes, of which some part at least must -be attributed to his own fault. It is certain that Wellington never -trained a general who proved himself a first-rate exponent of the art -of war; but his system (as we have said above) was not calculated to -foster initiative or self-reliance among his lieutenants. - -[Sidenote: Some Unsatisfactory Subordinates] - -Other subordinates Wellington possessed, of whom we can say that they -were not up to their work, even in the carrying out of the orders -given them with common self-reliance and clear-headedness. Such were -Spencer and Slade, who were only capable of going forward to carry -out a definite order; it was necessary, so to speak, that they should -simply be put like trams on a line, and shoved forward, or they would -slacken the pace and come to a stop, from want of initiative and moving -power. Some few, like Sir William Erskine, who was Wellington’s pet -aversion—yet irremovable because of the political influence that backed -him—were positively dangerous from a combination of short-sightedness, -carelessness, and self-will. In one dispatch Wellington says that he -thinks that he is a little wrong in his head.[131] It is astounding -that after Erskine’s mistakes at Casal Novo and Sabugal, Wellington -did not get rid of him at all costs; but he simply tried to shunt -him on to commands where it was unlikely that he could do much harm, -and continued solemnly to rehearse his name with approval in his -dispatches, along with those of all other officers of his rank, till -the unfortunate man committed suicide, in a moment of insanity, -in the interval between the campaigns of 1812 and 1813. This was -the strongest case of difficulty which Wellington, for reasons of -politics and patronage at home, did not care to face by the decisive -step of sending home the general in disgrace. But there were several -brigadier-generals whom he had not asked for, whom he disliked, and -whose departure from the Peninsula he saluted with a small psalm of -thanksgiving in his private letters.[132] It is certainly astonishing -that, even after 1811, he was not given a free hand to get rid of -subordinates whom he knew to be incompetent or recalcitrant, any more -than he was given the power to promote officers without a tedious -reference to the Horse Guards. It is true that in the later years of -the war his recommendations were generally (but not always) carried -out; yet it took whole months for a request made in a letter from -Salamanca or Madrid to reach London, to be there acceded to, and then -to take effect by a publication of the _Gazette_. The power to punish -or reward with promptness was never granted; there was always a long -delay. And both punishment and reward lose much of their salutary -effect when there is an interval of months between the act and its -consequence. Napoleon had a unique advantage in being at once the -commander-in-chief and the dispenser of favours and chastisement; with -him there was no time lost in lengthy reference to a home government. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE ORGANIZATION OF THE ARMY: HEADQUARTERS - - -Having dealt with the greater personalities among Wellington’s -lieutenants, it remains that we should speak of the organization by -which his army was set in motion. - -Some great commanders have trusted much to their staff, and have kept -their ablest subordinates about their person. This was pre-eminently -not the case with Wellington: he was as averse to providing himself -with a regular chief-of-the-staff, as he was to allowing a formal -second-in-command to accompany his army. The duties which would, -according to modern ideas, fall to the chief-of-the-staff, were by -him divided between three officers, one of whom was of quite junior -standing, and only one of whom held a higher rank than that of colonel. -These officers were the Military Secretary, the Quartermaster-General, -and the Adjutant-General. - -The Military Secretary was merely responsible for the correct drawing -out, and the transmission to the proper person or department, of the -correspondence of the commander-in-chief. The post was held from April -27, 1809, to September 19, 1810, by Lieutenant-Colonel Bathurst, of -the 60th. On the last-named date he went home on leave, and Captain -Lord Fitzroy Somerset was given the status of acting-secretary, and -confirmed as actual secretary three months later on January 1, 1811. -This officer, better remembered by his later title as the Lord Raglan -of the Crimean War, held the office till the end of the war—by which -time he had reached the rank of colonel. He was one of Wellington’s -best-trusted subordinates, and his personal friend, but being very -young, and junior in rank to all heads of departments, he was in no -sense an appreciable factor in Wellington’s conduct of the war. In -fact, he was nothing more than his title of secretary indicated, and -was in no way responsible for organization, or entitled to offer advice. - -Much more important were the two great heads of departments, the -Quartermaster-General and Adjutant-General. The former was charged -with all matters relating to the embarkation or disembarkation, -the equipment, quartering, halting, encamping, and route-marching -of the various units of the army. He had to convey to all generals -in command of them the orders of the general-in-chief, and for -this purpose had under his control a number of officers bearing -the clumsy titles of assistant-quartermaster-generals, and -deputy-assistant-quartermaster-generals. Of the former there were -five, of the latter seven, when the army was first organized in April, -1809, but their numbers were continually increasing all through the -war, for each unit had an assistant-quartermaster-general and a -deputy-assistant-quartermaster-general attached to it, and as the -divisions and brigades grew in number, so did the officers of the -Quartermaster-General’s department told off to them. There was also a -parallel growth in the number of those who remained at headquarters, -directly attached to their chief. - -There is an interesting minute by Wellington, laying down the relations -between the divisional generals and the staff-officers of the -department: he points out that, though the latter are the organs of -headquarters in dealing with divisions, yet they are under the command -of the divisional general: and the responsibility both for the orders -given through them being carried out, and for their acts in general, -lies with the division-commander. “Every staff officer,” he says, “must -be considered as acting under the direct orders and superintendence of -the superior officer for whose assistance he is employed, and who is -responsible for his acts. To consider the relative situation of the -general officer and the staff officer in any other light, would tend to -alter the nature of the Service, and, in fact, might give the command -of the troops to a subaltern staff officer instead of to their general -officer.”[133] - -[Sidenote: The Quartermaster-General] - -The officers of the Quartermaster-General’s department, besides their -duties with regard to the moving of the army, or the detachments -of it, had often to undertake independent work at a distance from -headquarters, and sometimes remote from the theatre of war. It was -they who made topographical surveys, reports on roads and bridges, and -on the resources of districts through which the army might have to -move in the near or distant future. There was issued early in 1810 a -little manual called _Instructions for the officers in the department -of the Quartermaster-General_ which was given to all its members: it -contains a selection of orders and forms, relating to every possible -duty with which its recipients might be entrusted. The most interesting -section is that on topographical surveys, to which there is annexed -a model report of the road from Truxillo to Merida, containing notes -on everything which a staff officer ought to notice,—positions, -defiles, size of villages, character of sections of the road, amount -of corn-land as opposed to pasture or waste, warnings as to unhealthy -spots, notes as to the depth of rivers and the practicability of fords, -etc. - -So far as I can ascertain, Wellington had only two -Quartermaster-Generals during the whole of the long period of his -supreme command. Colonel George Murray of the 3rd Guards held the post -from April, 1809, to May 28, 1812: he must be carefully distinguished -from two other Murrays, who sometimes turn up in the dispatches. -One is Major-General John Murray, who commanded a brigade in the -Oporto campaign, went home because he considered that Beresford had -been unjustly promoted over his head, and came out later to the -Peninsula on the Catalan side, where he was responsible for the -mismanaged operations about Tarragona. The other is John Murray, the -Commissary-General. When Wellington sometimes uses such a phrase in his -dispatches as “Murray knows this,” or “see that Murray is informed,” -it is often most difficult to be sure which of the three men is meant. -Early in 1811 Colonel George Murray became a major-general, and in -the following May he appears to have gone home. He was replaced as -Quartermaster-General by Colonel James Gordon—who, again, must not be -confused with Colonel Sir Alexander Gordon, who was one of Wellington’s -senior aides-de-camp, and was killed at Waterloo. This is another of -the confusions between homonyms which often give trouble. If a diarist -speaks of “Colonel Gordon” we have to find which of the two is meant. -James Gordon, having acted as quartermaster-general from May, 1811, to -January, 1813, went home, and George Murray, returning early in that -year, worked out the remaining fifteen months of the war in his old -position. - -[Sidenote: The Adjutant-General] - -Parallel with the Quartermaster-General was the other great -departmental chief at headquarters, the Adjutant-General, whose sphere -of activity was disciplinary and statistical. He was charged with -all the detail of duties to be distributed, with the collecting and -compiling for the use of the commander-in-chief of all returns of men -and horses in “morning states,” etc., with the supreme supervision of -the discipline of the army, and with much official correspondence that -did not pass to the Military Secretary. Roughly speaking, the internal -condition of the troops fell to his share, while their movement -belonged to the Quartermaster-General. He had to aid him on the first -organization of the army in 1809, eight assistant-adjutant-generals -and six deputy-assistant-adjutant-generals, but (as in the -Quartermaster-General’s department) the number of subordinates mounted -up, as the war went on, and new units were from time to time created, -since an assistant-adjutant-general was attached to each division. - -The first holder of the office was Major-General the Hon. Charles -Stewart (afterwards Lord Londonderry, the earliest historian of the -Peninsular War), who was discharging its functions from April, 1809, -till April, 1813, just four years. He was then sent on a diplomatic -mission to Berlin, and Wellington offered the post to his own -brother-in-law, Major-General Edward Pakenham, who, while in charge of -the 3rd division, had made the decisive charge at Salamanca. Pakenham -was adjutant-general for the last year of the war, April, 1813, to -April, 1814, and went straight out from Bordeaux to command the unlucky -New Orleans expedition, in which he lost his life. - -It will be noted that Wellington had actually only two -Quartermaster-Generals and two Adjutant-Generals under him during the -five years of his Peninsular command—a sufficient proof that when he -had found his man he stuck to him. Charles Stewart, who served him -so long, was a person of some political importance, as the brother -and confidant of Lord Castlereagh. In the early part of his tenure of -office he seems sometimes to have made suggestions to his chief, but -met little encouragement, for Wellington loved his own way, and was not -to be influenced even by his own highest staff officers.[134] He did -not wish to have a Gneisenau or a Moltke at his side: he only wanted -zealous and competent chief clerks. - -[Sidenote: Minor Heads of Departments] - -Attached to headquarters in addition to the three great functionaries -already named, were the heads of several other departments of great -importance. These were— - -(1) The general officer commanding the Royal Artillery, who had a -general supervisory charge of the batteries attached to the divisions, -and a more specific control of the battering-train and reserve -artillery, when these came into existence in 1811, as well as of the -ammunition columns. The first artillery chief was Brigadier-General -E. Howarth, who arrived at Lisbon in 1809, about the same time as -Wellington himself. He was promoted major-general in 1811, and went -home that year. The command then went through a rapid succession of -hands. Howarth was followed by Major-General Borthwick, who apparently -crossed Wellington, and went home in March, 1812, after less than -a year’s tenure of the post. Borthwick was succeeded by Colonel H. -Framingham, and he within a few months by Colonel G. B. Fisher, who -(like Borthwick) fell out with the commander-in-chief, and applied for -leave to go home ere 1813 was six months old. Wellington then appointed -Colonel Alexander Dickson to the command late in May. This officer had -been for the last two years in charge of the Portuguese artillery under -Beresford. He had given such satisfaction at Rodrigo and Badajoz that -Wellington re-transferred him to the British service, and finished the -campaign of 1814 with Dickson in chief charge of this branch. - -(2) After the artillery chief we encounter as a prominent figure at -headquarters the commanding officer of Royal Engineers. He had the -superintending duty over his own staff and the engineer officers -attached to the divisions, and control over the “Royal Military -Artificers,” as the rank and file of the scientific corps were -named till 1812, when they changed their title to Royal Sappers -and Miners.[135] The commanding engineer had also charge over the -engineers’ park and the pontoon train. The officer who held this post -from 1809 till he was killed at St. Sebastian in September, 1813, -was Colonel Richard Fletcher, who has left a fame behind him as the -designer of the Lines of Torres Vedras. On his death the command fell -to Lieut.-Colonel Elphinstone, who was responsible for the celebrated -bridge of boats across the mouth of the Adour which made the siege of -Bayonne possible in 1814. - -(3, 4) At headquarters were also to be found the officers commanding -the Staff Corps Cavalry, and the Corps of Guides. The former, a small -unit of some 200 men, created in 1812, discharged the police duties of -the army, and were worked along with the Provost Marshal. They were -occasionally also employed as orderlies, and in other confidential -positions.[136] The Guides were a small body also, some 150 or 200 -strong, partly British, partly Portuguese, the latter preponderating. -They were detached in twos or threes, to act as interpreters as well -as guides to bodies of troops moving in country not known to them. -For this reason they had to be bilingual, either English knowing some -Portuguese, or Portuguese knowing some English, as they had always to -be acting as intermediaries between the army and the peasantry, in -making inquiries about roads, supplies, etc. The officer commanding the -Guides had also the charge of the post office, and the transmission of -letters to and from the front. - -(5) The Provost Marshal was also attached to headquarters: he had -charge of all prisoners to be tried by general court-martial, of -deserters, and prisoners of war. He had powers of jurisdiction on -offenders caught red-handed, but as Wellington remarks, “Whatever may -be the crime of which a soldier is guilty, the Provost Marshal has not -the power of inflicting summary punishment for it, unless he should -see him in the act of committing it.”[137] Men arrested on evidence -only, had to be tried by court-martials. For the better management of -these last, Wellington added a Judge-Advocate-General to his staff in -1812, whose duty was to see that trials were conducted with proper -forms and due appreciation of the validity of evidence—in which the -commander-in-chief considered that they had often failed. Mr. Francis -Larpent, who has left an interesting diary of his duties and his -personal adventures, discharged the function of this office from his -arrival late in 1812 down to the end of the war.[138] - -As to aides-de-camp, Wellington kept a very limited number of them—he -only employed some twenty in the course of the war, and not more than -eight or ten at once. They were nearly all young men of the great -political families,[139] nearly half of them were Guards’ officers, and -the rest mostly belonged to the cavalry. The Prince of Orange served -among them in 1811–12. None of them, save Lord Fitzroy Somerset (Lord -Raglan) and Colonel Cadogan, came to any very great military position -or reputation. - -So much for the military side of headquarters. There were also attached -to it seven civil departments, small and great, of which it may be -well to give a list. On one or two of these we shall have to speak at -some length in later chapters—notably the Commissariat and the Medical -department. They consisted of— - -(1) The Medical Department under an Inspector of Hospitals, who was in -general charge of the physicians, surgeons, assistants, etc., attached -to the various units of the army. There is an excellent account of -the management of this department, and all its difficulties, in the -_Autobiography_ of Sir James McGrigor, chief of the Medical Staff in -1812–13–14. His predecessor since Wellington’s first landing in 1809 -was Dr. Frank, who was invalided in the autumn of 1811. - -(2) The Purveyor’s Department was independent of the medical, though it -might well have been attached to it: the establishment consisted of a -Purveyor to the Forces, with deputies and assistants, who had charge of -the hospitals and all the material and details required for them—from -the drugs for the sick to the burial expenses of the dead. - -(3) The Paymaster-General, with his assistants, was responsible for the -transmission of the money received to the regimental paymasters of the -various units. He was a much-worried man, generally from three to six -months in arrears with his specie, from no fault of his own, but from -the immense difficulty of obtaining the hard dollars, doubloons, and -“cruzados novos,” which alone had currency in the Peninsula till a late -period in the war. It was useless to issue English money to the troops, -for the natives would not accept crowns and guineas, and refused even -to look at the one-pound notes which were almost the sole circulating -medium in Great Britain during this period. It was only in a late year -of the war that the gold guinea was at last tariffed by the Spanish and -Portuguese Governments, and became readily current.[140] - -[Sidenote: The Commissariat] - -(4) Most important of all the Civil Departments was the -Commissariat, under the Commissary-General, who had -under him Deputy-Commissary-Generals, Assistant and -Deputy-Assistant-Commissaries, Commissariat Clerks, and many other -subordinates. The department was divided into two branches, stores and -accounts. The post of Commissary-General was successively held by John -Murray (already mentioned above) from 1809 to June, 1810, by Kennedy -from June, 1810, to September, 1811, and by Bisset from September, -1811, onward. An assistant commissary was attached to each brigade of -infantry and each regiment of cavalry, but a single official had to -attend to the needs of the whole of the artillery with the army, and -another to the needs of headquarters.[141] - -The whole future of the army in 1809 depended on whether the -Commissariat Department would be able to rise to the height of its -duties. It was absolutely necessary that Wellington should be able to -keep his army concentrated, if this small force of 20,000 or 30,000 -men was to be of any weight in the conduct of the war in the Peninsula. -The much-cursed and criticized Commissariat succeeded in doing its -duty, and the length of time for which the British army could keep -concentrated was the envy of the French, who, living on the country, -were forced to disperse whenever they had exhausted the resources of -the particular region in which they were massed. In a way this fact was -the key to the whole war. Wellington’s salvation lay in the fact that -he could hold his entire army together, while his adversaries could -not. On this advantage he relied again and again: his whole strategy -depended upon it. How the Commissariat worked we shall show in a later -chapter. - -(5) The Storekeeper-General had charge of the field equipments, tents, -and heavy baggage of the army. Often the heavy baggage was left at -Lisbon, and all through 1809–10–11 no tents were taken to the front. It -was only in the Vittoria and South-French campaigns that the whole army -regularly carried them. In the days when the transport trains were not -fully organized, it was necessary to leave even valuable impedimenta -behind. - -(6) To the Controller of Army Accounts all departments, save the -Commissariat, rendered their statistics of money received and spent. - -(7) Last, we may name the Press, for a travelling Press and a small -staff of military printers accompanied the headquarters when possible, -and printed general orders, and other documents and forms, of which -many copies were required. I have seen much of its work at the Record -Office,[142] but have never come across an account of its organization, -or of any anecdotes of its wandering life, in which it must have passed -through many vicissitudes. The press was under the general supervision -of the Adjutant-General. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE ORGANIZATION OF THE ARMY: BRIGADES AND DIVISIONS - - -It will probably surprise some readers to learn that Sir Arthur -Wellesley fought out the first campaign in which he held supreme -command, that of Oporto in May, 1809, with no higher organized unit -than the brigade. But this is the fact: the 18,000 infantry of which -he could dispose were distributed into eight brigades of two or three -battalions each, varying in strength from 1400 up to 2500 bayonets. But -Wellesley was not so belated, in failing to form divisions, as might -be thought. They were still rather an abnormal than a usual unit for a -British army: indeed, in the large majority of the expeditions in which -Great Britain had been engaged since 1793, the numbers were so small -that no unit above the brigade had been necessary. But it is notable -that neither in the Duke of York’s first expedition to the Netherlands -in 1793–94, nor in his second in 1799, nor in Abercrombie’s Egyptian -Campaign of 1801 had divisions been formed—though in each of these -cases a very large force had been assembled. When several brigades -acted together, not under the immediate eye of the commander-in-chief, -the senior brigadier present took temporary charge of the assemblage. -In the Low Countries York generally speaks of his army as being -divided into “columns” of two or three brigades each,[143] but there -was no fixity in the arrangement. Abercrombie, on the other hand, -in the last dispatch which he wrote before his victory and death at -Alexandria, lays down the theoretical organization that the army is to -be considered as being divided into three “lines”—the first composed -of three brigades, the second and third of two each. If the _word_ -division is used in any official documents of these campaigns, the -term has no technical military sense, but is used as a vague synonym -for a section or part of the army.[144] Indeed, so far as I know, the -first British force during the great French War which was formed into -divisions, in the proper modern sense, was the army which went on the -Copenhagen Expedition of 1807, which was regularly distributed into -four of such units, each under a lieutenant-general, and each composed -of two, three, or four weak brigades, generally of only two battalions. -This was a force of some 26,000 men. - -The original Peninsular Army of 1808, which landed at the mouth of the -Mondego, and won the battle of Vimeiro, was not far, therefore, from -being the first British force organized in divisions. It may be noted -that they were rather theoretical than real, for several brigades -had not yet landed when Vimeiro was fought, and Wellesley, while in -temporary command, worked the incomplete army on a brigade system: -no trace whatever of the use of the divisions as real units will be -found in that battle. Indeed, even the theoretical composition of -some of the brigades differed from that actually seen in action. No -genuine divisions were formed in the Peninsula, till Sir John Moore -took command of the army from which its old chiefs, Dalrymple, Burrand -and Wellesley himself had been removed and sent home. We must not, -therefore, be surprised to find that for three months after he landed -at Lisbon in April, 1809, Wellesley worked his 21,000 British troops in -detached brigades, only connected in a formal and temporary way, under -the senior brigadier, when two or more chanced to form a marching or -fighting unit. - -But two other points concerning Wellesley’s Oporto campaign deserve -notice. This was the first and only occasion on which he tried the -experiment of mixing British and Portuguese regiments in the same -brigade.[145] To five of the eight brigades forming his infantry a -Portuguese battalion was attached, picked as being one of the best -of the rather disorderly assembly which Beresford had collected at -Abrantes and Thomar. Though the Portuguese fought not amiss during -this short campaign, and are mentioned with praise in Wellesley’s -dispatches, yet the experiment was not continued, evidently because it -was found not to work happily. The five Portuguese battalions were sent -back to Beresford not long after the fall of Oporto. - -The other point to be noted in considering Wellesley’s organization -of his army in the Oporto campaign, is that already he had begun the -system of strengthening his skirmishers by the addition to them of a -rifle company per brigade, all taken from the 5/60th. The importance of -this arrangement in the general scheme of his tactics has been already -explained in an earlier chapter.[146] - -So much for Wellesley’s first organization of his army. It did not -endure for so much as three months, for on June 18, 1809, a General -Order, dated from the Adjutant-General’s office at Abrantes, gave to -the army the organization in divisions, under which it was to win all -its subsequent victories. In the midst of some insignificant directions -as to forage and ammunition, appears the clause that “as the weather -now admits of the troops hutting, and they can move together in large -bodies, brigades can be formed into divisions, as follows.” - -[Sidenote: The Original Four Divisions] - -The original disposition was for four divisions only, of which the -first consisted of four brigades, the other three of two brigades each. -All the battalions in them were in the British service, no Portuguese -being included. The four line battalions of the King’s German Legion -were arranged first as one, and then as two brigades of the First -Division. Of the ten brigades into which the infantry of the army were -now divided, seven had two battalions only, the other three three -battalions each. The cavalry, which had recently been increased by the -arrival of two regiments from England, was organized as a division of -three brigades of two regiments each. The artillery, of which only five -field batteries (or “companies” as they were then called) had reached -the front, was not yet told off to the individual divisions in a -permanent fashion, though certain units are generally found acting with -the same division. - -As to the command of the divisions, Wellington contemplated that -each should ultimately be in the charge of a lieutenant-general; but -as he had only three officers of such rank at his disposition—Hill, -Sherbrooke, and the cavalry commander Payne—the General Order directs -that “the senior general officers of brigades will respectively take -the command of the division in which their brigades are placed, till -other lieutenant-generals shall join the army.” This placed two -brigadiers, McKenzie and A. Campbell, in temporary charge of the -3rd and 4th divisions, Sherbrooke taking the 1st, and Hill the 2nd. -Sherbrooke went home before a year was out, but Hill was to remain -in command of the 2nd division throughout the war, except during the -short periods when he was on leave. But during his last three years -in the Peninsula, when he was practically acting as commander of -an army corps, the 2nd division was, in fact, under the leadership -of William Stewart as his substitute. The only modification caused -in internal organization by the creation of the new divisions was -that an assistant-adjutant-general, and quartermaster-general, and a -provost-marshal were attached to each of them, and that the brigadiers -acting as division-commanders were authorized to take on some extra -aides-de-camp. - -[Sidenote: Rearrangements after Talavera] - -It was with this organization that Wellington’s army went through the -Talavera campaign, and the retreat to the Guadiana which terminated -it. The whole force was British, no single Portuguese battalion -accompanying it. The troops of that nation were being employed under -Beresford during this summer, to cover the frontier of Beira, between -the Douro and the Tagus. Long before the campaign was over, more -British reinforcements had begun to arrive at Lisbon, and had been -pushed forward some distance into the interior. One brigade, that -composed of the three light battalions,[147] under Robert Craufurd, -afterwards to be famous in Peninsular annals as the nucleus of the -“Light Division,” got to the front after a tremendous march—somewhat -exaggerated by Napier and by tradition—only a day after the battle -of Talavera. Wellesley incorporated it for a movement in the 3rd -division, in which it finished the campaign. There were seven other -battalions[148] which did not get so far forward, and ultimately -joined Beresford’s Portuguese on the frontier of Spain. In September -Wellington drew down these troops to join him in Estremadura, and made -from them a third brigade each for his 2nd and 4th Divisions. But there -was about this time a shifting about of battalions from division to -division, which it would be tedious to give in detail. The net result -was that at the end of 1809 Wellington had four much stronger divisions -than he had possessed in the summer, the 1st counting nine battalions -instead of its old eight, the 2nd ten instead of six, the 3rd still -six, but the 4th eight instead of five. - -The early months of 1810 were spent by Wellington in an expectant -attitude, behind the Portuguese frontier, as he waited for the -inevitable French invasion under Masséna, so long announced and so long -delayed. In this time of long-deferred anxiety, while the Lines of -Torres Vedras were being busily urged towards completion, Wellington -carried out some most important changes in the organization of his -army, which made it (except in the matter of mere numbers) exactly what -it was to remain till the end of the war. - -The most notable of these changes was that he made up his mind to -revert to his old plan of April, 1809, for mixing the Portuguese -and British troops. It took a new form, however: instead of placing -battalions of each nationality side by side in his brigades, he -attached a Portuguese brigade of four or five battalions to most of -his British divisions, as a distinct unit. This system was started -with the 3rd and 4th Divisions on Feb. 22, 1810. A complete Portuguese -brigade consisted of two line regiments (each of two battalions) and -one caçador or rifle battalion. The latter was always employed for the -brigade’s skirmishing work; when joined by the four light companies of -the line battalions, it gave a very heavy proportion of light troops to -the unit. This Wellington considered necessary, because of the untried -quality of the whole Portuguese Army, which had not yet taken a serious -part in any general action. In the autumn they justified Wellington’s -confidence in them at the battle of Bussaco, where all of them, and -especially the two caçador battalions attached to the Light Division, -played a most creditable part. - -[Sidenote: The Light Division] - -The second great innovation made in the spring of 1810 was the creation -of the celebrated Light Division, which came into existence on Feb. -22, 1810; it was formed by taking Robert Craufurd’s brigade, the -1/43rd, 1/52nd, and 1/95th out of the 3rd division, and adding to them -the above-mentioned two Portuguese caçador battalions. Wellington’s -design was to produce for the whole army, by the institution of this -new unit, what he had already done for the individual brigades when -he added their rifle companies to them in April, 1809. The Light -Division was to be, as it were, the protective screen for the whole -army,—its strategical skirmishing line, thrown out far in front of the -rest of the host, to keep off the French till the actual moment of -battle, and to hide the dispositions of the main body. At the head of -this small corps of picked light troops was placed Robert Craufurd, -whom Wellington rightly considered his best officer for outpost and -reconnaissance work. How well this trusted subordinate discharged -the duty laid upon him has been told in the chapter dealing with his -character and exploits. All through the war Wellington used the Light -Division as his screen, for his advanced guard when he was moving to -the front, for his rearguard when he was on the retreat, and he was -never betrayed by it, even after Craufurd’s death had left its conduct -in the hands of chiefs who were not always men of special ability. - -After the creation of the Light Division, Wellington had five instead -of four divisions, and another was added to them in the summer of -1810, when in August he created the 5th Division, so long commanded by -General Leith. This was formed by adding to a British brigade, newly -arrived from England,[149] two of the hitherto unattached Portuguese -brigades. A second British brigade was provided in October for Leith, -from troops newly come from Cadiz.[150] These having come to hand, the -5th Division dropped one of its Portuguese brigades, and became a unit -of the normal shape and size, two-thirds British, one-third Portuguese. -It did not, however, receive its caçador battalion (drawn from the -Lusitanian Legion) till 1811. - -During the campaign of Bussaco, therefore, Wellington had six -divisions—the old ones numbered 1st to 4th, the Light Division, and -the newly-created 5th. In addition to the Portuguese brigades which -had now been absorbed into the divisions, there remained six more -brigades of that nation which were still unattached. Of these two, -under the Brigadiers Archibald Campbell and Fonseca, were formed into a -division under General Hamilton, which always marched with Hill’s 2nd -Division, but was never formally made part of it. But since Hamilton -invariably moved along with Hill, this pair of units, with their ten -British and eight Portuguese battalions, practically formed a double -division, or a small army corps, if a term which Wellington never -used in the Peninsula may be applied to it.[151] There remained four -more independent Portuguese brigades, those of Pack, Alex. Campbell, -Coleman, and Bradford. By the next year these were reduced to two, as -one brigade was withdrawn to serve with the new British 7th division, -and another with the 2nd. The surviving units continued as unattached -brigades till the end of the war, under a series of commanding -officers, whose succession is sometimes hard to follow.[152] They often -accompanied the main army, but were sometimes separated from it for -special duties, when some force less than a division was wanted, as a -detachment for a subsidiary operation. - -[Sidenote: Creation of the 6th and 7th Divisions] - -The completion of the Peninsular Army in its final shape, which was not -again to be varied, took place during its stay by the Lines of Torres -Vedras, in the winter of 1810–11. It was then that the two junior -divisions were created, the 6th in October, the 7th early in March. -Their appearance in the field was, of course, due to the arrival of a -considerable number of fresh battalions from England during the autumn -and winter. But Wellington did not take all the new-comers and build up -fresh divisions from them. The 6th Division was made by taking an old -brigade (Archibald Campbell’s) from the 4th Division, and uniting it -to the extra Portuguese brigade of the 5th Division.[153] The second -British brigade of the 6th division was provided some months later -from newly-arrived troops from England.[154] The 4th Division was -compensated for the brigade it had given to the 6th by taking over a -brigade (Pakenham’s) from the 1st Division—while the 1st Division, to -replace this last unit, received three battalions[155] which had just -come out from home. - -This was a complicated shift and transfer, intended to secure a level -quality in the divisions by the mixture of recently arrived and veteran -battalions. But in organizing his last creation, the 7th Division, -Wellington was prevented by circumstances from carrying out the same -wise plan. Much belated in their arrival at Lisbon by contrary winds, -the last batch of reinforcements sent to him for the campaign of 1811, -landed when the main army was already in pursuit of Masséna, who had -just started on his retreat from Santarem. Wellington was forced to -keep them together, since he had no time to distribute them when the -troops were all on the move. The 7th division was at first very weak, -containing only one brigade in British pay, consisting of two English -and two foreign corps,[156] and one Portuguese brigade (Coleman). -Two more foreign corps belonging to the German Legion[157] formed -the second brigade of the 7th Division, but did not join it till the -summer, being distracted meanwhile to another field of operations. - -The 7th Division was for some time looked on as the “ugly duckling,” -or backward child of the army. Having only two British to four foreign -battalions, it was sometimes called “the Mongrels;” its first début -in action at Fuentes de Oñoro was not a very happy one, as it was -the outlying flank force that was turned and partly cut up by French -cavalry. After this it was never seriously engaged in battle for more -than a year. Moreover, its foreigners earned a bad reputation for their -habit of desertion—a habit not altogether unnatural, for they had been -largely recruited from the pontoons and prison-camps in England.[158] -Hence a cruel joke in the list of divisional nicknames given by -several Peninsular diarists. The sobriquets run: Light Division, _The_ -Division; no doubt the title given to it by its own proud members. -First Division: “The Gentlemen’s Sons,” because it contained one, -and afterwards two, brigades of the Foot Guards. The Second Division -is called “the Observing Division,” because it was so often detached -as a containing force against Soult, on the side of Estremadura and -Andalusia, while the main body was more actively engaged on the side -of Leon. So much was this its duty that it was only present at one -general action, Albuera, between the autumn of 1810 and the summer of -1813. There were some brilliant episodes between those dates, such -as the surprise of Arroyo dos Molinos, and the storming of the forts -at Almaraz. The 3rd Division was called “the Fighting Division,” its -fiery leader, Picton, having led it into the forefront of the battle -both at Bussaco and Fuentes de Oñoro, not to speak of smaller fights -like Redinha or El Bodon; it had also done the hardest of work at the -storms of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz. The 4th Division was called the -“Supporting Division;” I suppose because it was sent off to support -the 2nd in Estremadura, and most effectually discharged that duty -at Albuera.[159] The 5th division was called “the Pioneers,” a name -whose source I cannot explain: possibly it refers to some road-making -work done in 1810. The 6th was the “Marching Division,” mainly, I -believe, so-called because down to Salamanca it was accompanying all -Wellington’s great movements from north to south and south to north, -yet never had the good fortune to get into the thick of the battle. At -Salamanca, however, it had as much fighting as any man could crave. -The note to the 7th Division, however, is very malicious, being “We -have _heard_ that there is a Seventh Division, but we have never -_seen_ it.” The fact is, that after its mishap at Fuentes, and some -unsuccessful siege work at the second leaguer of Badajoz, this unit was -very little engaged for two years. In 1813, however, it was gloriously -prominent in the battles of the Pyrenees, and the dash at the French -line, made by Barns’s brigade, was called by Wellington about the best -and most effective attack that he had ever seen. - -[Sidenote: Rearrangement of Units] - -After the creation of the 7th Division in March, 1811, Wellington never -again organized a new divisional unit. He received, of course, a great -number of new battalions during the years 1811–12–13, but contented -himself with adding them in ones or twos to existing brigades, or at -most gave two or three of them as a fresh brigade to one of the old -divisions. The former practice was the more usual: the only instances -of the latter that I recall being that in 1812 the 1st Division got a -second Guards brigade, and in 1813 a new line brigade (Lord Aylmer’s) -from reinforcements that had just come out. The increase of the total -number of battalions at the front was not so great as might have been -expected, because from time to time corps that had got thinned down -almost to the point of extinction, were sent back to England to be -recruited and reorganized. The number of British battalions (including -the King’s German Legion and two other foreign corps) with Wellington’s -field army in March, 1811, was fifty-eight; in March, 1814, it was no -more than sixty-five, a gain of only seven units. There had been a -considerable exchange of service between the 1st and 2nd battalion of -regiments—in several cases when the 2nd battalion had been the original -unit in the Peninsular Army, it went home when the first battalion -came out, returning as a mere _cadre_ of officers and sergeants, after -turning over its serviceable rank and file to the newly-arrived sister -unit.[160] - -There was only two more considerable rearrangements of the internal -organization of a division. One took place in May, 1811, owing to the -fearful losses suffered by the 2nd Division at Albuera. Of the seven -battalions forming the brigades of Colborne and Hoghton, which had -been so dreadfully mauled in holding the all-important heights, two -were sent home, and the four others shrank into a single brigade. To -fill the place of the vanished unit a whole brigade (Howard’s) was -transferred from the 1st to the 2nd Division, and became part of it for -the rest of the war. There was also a shifting about of two brigades -from one unit to another during the winter of 1812–13, after the Burgos -retreat. - -The normal divisional organization, however, remained unchanged from -1811 onwards, viz. with three exceptions, each division for the -remaining three years of the war consisted of two British brigades -and one Portuguese, the former having usually three battalions each, -and the latter five. This rule worked for the 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, -7th divisions. The Light Division, smaller than the rest, had only -three (or three and a half) British battalions, and two of Portuguese -caçadores. The 1st Division alone had no Portuguese attached, but one -of its three (after 1813 _four_) brigades was foreign, consisting of -the line battalions of the King’s German Legion. The 2nd Division (as -explained above) had three British brigades and no Portuguese, but to -it was attached Hamilton’s (and in 1812–14 Ashworth’s) Portuguese, so -that it did not vary from the normal arrangement so much as the 1st -Division. - -It would not be quite accurate to say that a British brigade always -had precisely three battalions. Several had four, one five, a few -appeared with only two, but Wellington generally made these last up to -the three-battalion total as soon as he was able, save in two cases. -In the Guards brigades of the 1st Division the two battalions were -always so strong that between them they gave 1800 or 2000 bayonets at -the beginning of a campaign—which was as much as most three-battalion -brigades produced. Moreover, there was an objection to brigading -together units of the Guards and of the line. In the Light Division the -1/43rd and 1/52nd were also very strong and well recruited: each formed -the nucleus of a small brigade, of which the rest was composed of a -Portuguese caçador battalion and a certain number (often six) companies -of the 95th Rifles. - -[Sidenote: The Anglo-Portuguese Division] - -Roughly speaking, then, an Anglo-Portuguese division usually amounted -to something under 6000 men, save the Light Division, which numbered -under 4000, and the 1st Division, which in 1810, and again in 1813, -had four brigades, and over 7000 men. Of the 5500 or 5800 men in one -of the normal divisions about 3500 were British and 2000 (or a little -more) Portuguese. The 2nd Division, however, was a double-unit, with -5500 British, and attached to it 6500 of Hamilton’s and Ashworth’s -Portuguese. - -The mixture of nationalities in the divisions, normal with the -infantry, was nearly unknown in the cavalry arm. The very few -Portuguese regiments which took the field—never more than seven, I -believe—often four only—were normally kept separate. Wellington, for -the first three years of the war, had so few cavalry regiments of -either nation that there was no possibility of dividing them into -divisions. In 1809, as has been already stated,[161] there were only in -the Peninsula six British cavalry regiments, divided into three weak -brigades. Only one more corps joined them in 1810, and in the spring -campaigns of 1811, when he had left three regiments with Beresford in -the south, he had only four to take with him for the pursuit of Masséna -and the battle of Fuentes de Oñoro—a miserable provision—1500 sabres -for an army of over 30,000 men, about a fourth of the proper proportion -in those days. - -It was not till later in 1811 that Wellington got cavalry -reinforcements which more than doubled his mounted strength, bringing -him up to fifteen regiments of British and German horse. He did then at -last divide them into two divisions, one of eleven regiments, which -followed his main army, the other of four regiments only, which he left -with Hill in Estremadura. But no Portuguese regiments were put into -either—though he took one brigade with himself (D’Urban’s) for the -Salamanca campaign, and left two brigades (or four regiments) with the -southern force (those of Otway and Madden). - -But the organization in two cavalry divisions was dropped in the spring -of 1813—Wellington had had sickening experience of the incapacity of -General Erskine, who commanded the small second division, and, Erskine -being now dead, for the rest of the war all the seven cavalry brigades -were theoretically again made into one division, under Wellington’s -chosen cavalry leader, Sir Stapleton Cotton. As a matter of fact, -Cotton was not allowed any independent command of them, and the -brigades were moved in twos and threes under the direct orders of the -commander-in-chief. Wellington never used his cavalry in mass for any -great separate manœuvre. He employed them for scouting, for covering -his front, and for protecting his flanks, sometimes (but rarely and in -small units) for a blow in battle, such as that which Le Marchant’s -heavy dragoons gave at Salamanca, or Bock’s Germans at Garcia Hernandez -on the following day. But of this we have already spoken when dealing -with the general character of Wellington’s tactics. - -[Sidenote: Distribution of Batteries] - -The rule of the combination of British and Portuguese units which -prevailed in the infantry, though not in the cavalry, was to be found -in the artillery also. In 1810, when Wellington drafted a Portuguese -brigade of foot into each of his divisions, he also attached to several -of them batteries of Portuguese artillery. So small was his allowance -of British gunners, that in 1811, when he had created his two last -infantry divisions, he would not have been able to provide one field -battery for each of his eight units, unless he had drawn largely -for help on his allies. At the time of Fuentes de Oñoro and Albuera -there were in the field only three British horse artillery batteries -(attached to the cavalry and the Light Division) and five British field -batteries attached to infantry divisions. The 3rd and 7th Divisions -had only Portuguese guns allotted to them. But by utilizing the very -efficient artillery of the allied nation, to the extent of eight -units, Wellington was able to put thirteen field batteries in line, -which enabled him to provide the 2nd, 3rd, 5th, 6th, and Hamilton’s -Portuguese divisions with two batteries apiece, the 1st, 4th, and 7th -with one each. The two nations were worked as successfully in unison in -the artillery as in the infantry organization. - -Owing to the arrival of new batteries from home Wellington was able, in -1812, not only to allot one or two field batteries to every division -except the Light (which kept its old horse artillery troop, that of -Major Ross), but to collect a small reserve which belonged to the whole -army and not to any particular division. In 1813–14 he was stronger -still, though the mass of guns of which he could dispose was never -so powerful in proportion to his whole army as that which Napoleon -habitually employed. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE ORGANIZATION OF THE ARMY: THE REGIMENTS - - -In the year 1809, when Wellington assumed command in Portugal, the -infantry of the British Army consisted of 3 regiments of Foot Guards -and 103 regiments of the line, beside 10 battalions of the King’s -German Legion, the 8 West India regiments, the 8 Veteran Battalions, -and some ten more miscellaneous foreign and colonial corps. Of the -103 regiments of the line the majority, 61, had 2 battalions. Of the -remainder one (the 60th or Royal Americans) had 7 battalions, one (the -1st Royal Scots) 4, three (the 14th, 27th, and 95th) 3 each, while the -remaining 37 were single-battalion regiments.[162] As the 1st Foot -Guards had 3 battalions, and the Coldstream and Scots Fusiliers 2 each, -the total number of British battalions embodied was 186. - -The reason for the curious discrepancy between the number of battalions -in the various regiments was that (putting aside the Guards, the Royal -Scots, and the Royal Americans, who had always more battalions than -one, even in the eighteenth century) the British Army at the time -of the rupture of the Peace of Amiens in 1803 had been composed of -single-battalion regiments. On the outbreak of war fifty regiments in -the British Isles and other home stations were ordered to raise second -battalions,[163] and a little later the same directions were given -to a few more. Two corps (the 14th and 27th) succeeded in raising two -fresh battalions, as did also the Royal Scots, which was already a -double battalion corps. But few of the regiments serving beyond seas -were ordered to carry out the same expansion, owing to their remoteness -from recruiting centres; they remained single-battalion regiments, save -that the 35th, 47th, and 78th, though they were quartered respectively -in Malta, Bermuda, and India, provided themselves with a second -battalion. Seven new regiments raised in or after 1804 (these numbered -97 to 103) remained from the first to the last single-battalion corps. - -A considerable number of the corps which were on foreign or colonial -service in 1803–4 had returned to Great Britain since that time. But -they were never, save in a very few cases, able to raise additional -battalions, the number of such created after 1805 being only eight[164] -in all. Hence the regiments from which Wellington’s Peninsular Army -was drawn must be divided with care into one-battalion corps and those -which owned more than one battalion. - -[Sidenote: Establishment of the Line] - -The Estimates presented to the House of Commons in 1809 show that there -were several “establishments” of varying strength for regiments in -Great Britain and other European stations. For corps absent in the East -Indies there was a wholly different set.[165] - -A regiment of two battalions, with both of them on active service, -stands on the higher establishment at either 2250 or 2031, or -thereabouts. When the senior battalion was sent on active service it -was generally completed to 1000 rank and file, which, with sergeants, -officers, and musicians, should have made up a total of over 1100. Its -less effective men were drafted into the second battalion, which, if -the establishment was full (which was by no means always the case), -would have left somewhat over 900 for the second battalion. And, -indeed, we find such figures as 906, 929, 916, etc., given for the -strength of several second battalions whose senior sister-unit had gone -overseas. - -[Sidenote: Weakness of Second Battalions] - -But these 900 and odd men of all ranks now included not only the weak -and ineffective men of the second battalion, but also those of the -first. Therefore if a second battalion was sent out to the war, it -had to leave behind a disproportionately large number of men unfit -for active service, and would be lucky if it sailed for Portugal with -700 bayonets. Many cases are on record where a far smaller number -disembarked at Lisbon or elsewhere. More than 200 would often have to -be left behind to form the depôt, wherefore second battalions were -usually much weaker than first battalions when at the front. - -For single-battalion regiments, such as the 2nd, 29th, 51st or 97th, we -find very various “establishments” given in the Army Estimates of 1809. -They vary down from 1151 to 696; one or two exceptional corps are even -smaller. As a rule, it may be taken that the ideal would be to recruit -such a corps, when it was sent on active service, up to the higher -figure: but having to leave 200 men or so at home—the inefficients who -were drafted off for the depôt—it would be lucky if it landed 800 in -the Peninsula. And to keep up the battalion the depôt could not always -suffice; it was full of unserviceable men, and could only send out -recruits newly gathered. - -Single-battalion regiments not on active service are those which are -found with the smaller establishments—of such figures as 716, 696, etc. -Not being expected to take the field, they have not been brought up -to the higher establishment, either by drafts from the militia or by -specially vigorous recruiting. - -The three regiments of Foot Guards had much higher establishments than -any line battalion. The three battalions of the 1st Guards mustered no -less than 4619 of all ranks, the Coldstream and Scots Fusiliers each -2887. Thus the former could easily send abroad two strong battalions -of 1100 or 1200 men apiece, and the two latter one each, while leaving -behind a battalion and a big depôt on which to draw for recruits for -the active service units. Therefore a Guards battalion in the Peninsula -seldom fell under 800 men, and was sometimes up to 1000. The Cadiz -detachment of the Guards, which fought at Barrosa, was made up from the -home battalions as a sort of extra contribution. It consisted of six -companies of the 1st Guards, two of the Coldstream, and three of the -Scots Fusiliers. They are sometimes called a brigade—for which they -were too small in reality—sometimes a provisional regiment. Their total -force was about 1200 or 1300 of all ranks. - -With these figures before us, we begin to see why individual battalions -came and went in the Peninsular Army. A regiment which had two -battalions, one at home and one in Portugal, was always able to keep -up the strength of the service unit by regular and copious drafts from -the home unit. Or if the original one serving in the Peninsula was a -_second_ battalion, the first could be sent out to relieve it. Second -battalions were never sent out to replace first battalions, it being -always the rule that the senior unit had a right to preference for -active service. But occasionally both battalions of a regiment were -absent from Great Britain, and in a few cases they were both in the -Peninsula.[166] When this happened the second battalion was invariably -sent home after a time, discharging its effective rank and file into -the sister battalion, and returning to Great Britain as a _cadre_ -of officers and sergeants, with a few old, unserviceable, or nearly -time-expired rank and file. - -Having laid down these general rules, we shall see how it came to pass -that of Wellington’s original army of 1809 some battalions stopped with -him for the whole war, while others were successively sent away and -replaced by fresh units. - -The greater part of the British Army which had been in the Peninsula -in 1808 went home from Corunna at the end of Sir John Moore’s retreat. -Of these units some never came back at all to share in Wellington’s -triumphs;[167] others returned only in time to see the end of the -war in 1812, 1813, and 1814.[168] Only Craufurd’s three famous light -infantry battalions, the 1/43rd, 1/52nd, and 1/95th came back, after an -absence of no more than a few months, in the summer of 1809. - -[Sidenote: The Original Peninsular Regiments] - -The real nucleus of the permanent Peninsular Army was composed, not -of the regiments which had operated under Moore, but of that small -fragment of the original landing force of 1808 which had not followed -Moore to Salamanca, Sahagun, and Corunna, but remained behind in the -Peninsula.[169] To this mere remnant of eleven battalions and one -cavalry regiment there were added the reinforcements which preceded or -accompanied Sir Arthur Wellesley when he came to take up the command -in April, 1809, which amounted to twelve battalions more, with four -regiments of cavalry.[170] The whole, when first divided into brigades -and organized as an operating force at Coimbra on May 4, 1809, only -amounted to 23,000 men—a modest nucleus for the army which was destined -not only to save Portugal, but ultimately to thrust out of Spain a -body of invaders which at this moment amounted to over 200,000 men, -and which in 1810–11 was brought up to 300,000, a figure which it -maintained till drafts began to be made upon it for the Russian War in -1812.[171] - -Moore’s host had been, as he himself wrote to Castlereagh in a -noteworthy dispatch, not so much _a_ British army as the _only_ British -army fit for the field. Since no more than an infinitesimal fraction -of this picked force was able to return to the Peninsula at once, it -followed that Wellesley’s army of 1809 was composed, for its greater -part, of troops that had been considered of secondary quality, and less -fit for service than the battalions which had been put _hors de combat_ -for a long space by the exhaustion which they had suffered in the -terrible retreat to Corunna. Excluding the Guards and the King’s German -Legion units, Wellesley’s Field Army in July contained eighteen British -battalions, of which only six were first battalions of regiments of -full strength, two (the 29th and 97th) were single-battalion corps, -and the remaining ten were junior battalions, _i.e._ were the usually -depleted home-service units of regiments which already had one -battalion abroad, or of which the first battalion had just returned -from Corunna unfit for immediate use.[172] It was an army whose quality -was notably inferior to that of the force which had marched into -Spain under Moore six months before. And the second battalions were -invariably under strength, because they had, until their unexpected -embarkation for the front, been engaged in supplying their sister units -abroad with the necessary drafts for foreign service. Many of them -were woefully weak in numbers, showing, instead of the theoretical 900 -bayonets, such figures as 638, 680, 749, 776, which, after deducting -sick and men on command, meant under 600 for the field. Indeed, a few -months later, at Talavera,[173] six of the second battalions and both -the single-battalion corps showed less than that number present, all -ranks included. - -Bearing in mind the fact that a British regiment, owing to the -difficulties of recruiting, in a time when men were scarce and bounties -high, could not as a rule provide drafts to keep up to strength more -than one battalion on active service, we can already foresee the fates -that were destined to attend the battalions of Wellington’s original -Peninsular Army. Nearly all the second battalions in time were worn -down by the exhaustion of war to a figure so low that they could no -longer be worked as regular battalion units. When they had reached this -stage one of two things happened to them. If their first battalions -were available, being on home service and fit for the field, they came -out to the Peninsula and replaced the depleted second battalions. But -if the first battalion of any corps was already abroad in India or -elsewhere, the Peninsular battalion was, during the earlier years of -the war, sent home to recruit, and its regimental number disappeared -from Wellington’s muster-rolls. In the later years of the war this was -not so regularly done: for reasons which will be explained, several of -the veteran second battalions, which had survived at the front till -1812, were retained with the army, but cut down to four companies each, -and worked together in pairs to make a unit of serviceable size. Of the -eight original second battalions of 1809, two were drafted into their -first battalion, which had come out to the Peninsula;[174] one (2/87th) -was sent away for a time to Cadiz, though it returned to the field -army in 1812; four were cut down in 1811–12 to half battalions.[175] -Only one, the 2/83rd, remained continuously in the Peninsula as a full -battalion till the end of the war. - -The same fate attended the single-battalion regiments, which had no -sister battalion at home to draw upon, but only a depôt. Both the 29th -and the 97th went home, reduced to skeletons, in 1811. - -But the six first-battalions present with the field army in May, 1809, -were still at the front in fair strength at the termination of the -war in 1814, and this, though two of them had been among the worst -sufferers in the bloody field of Albuera. Indeed, there is throughout -the war, I believe, only one case in which the first battalion of a -complete regiment went out to the front, and was sent away before the -end of the campaigning in 1814. - -[Sidenote: Reinforcements from Home] - -The reinforcements which were sent out to Wellington from 1810 to 1812 -may be divided into two sections, of which the larger was composed of -the reorganized and recruited battalions of Moore’s Corunna army. Of -these, six battalions came out in 1810, nine in 1811, eight in 1812, -and three in 1813–14. The greater number of them were first battalions, -or putting aside the Guards and German Legion units, fifteen out of -twenty-three: of these all save one (the 1/26th) fought out the rest -of the war. Of single-battalion regiments there were four (2nd, 51st, -20th, 76th); of junior battalions belonging to corps which already -had one battalion abroad, there were also only three (3/1st, 2/52nd, -2/59th). Of these two last classes the 2/52nd was soon sent home, after -drafting its men into the 1/52nd. The 2nd got so depleted that it -was cut down to four companies, and put into a provisional battalion -in 1812 till the end of the war. The 76th on its return was only in -the field for a few months in 1813–14, so that it had no time to get -worked down. The 3/1st, though a junior battalion, belonged to a large -regiment of four battalions, and for that reason never shrank below -its proper size, there being a sister unit at home to send it drafts. -We may therefore say that, of the eight battalions which were not -first battalions of full regiments, only three saw long service, yet -survived unimpaired to the peace of 1814 (20th, 51st, 2/59th); and of -these three two only came out in 1812, and were less than two years -in the Peninsula. It is clear, then, that the same rule prevailed in -the reinforcements as in the original 1809 army; only first battalions -could be relied upon not to melt. - -The battalions sent out as reinforcements to Wellington which had not -formed part of Moore’s Corunna army, were decidedly less numerous -than the other class, amounting to only nineteen. Of these six were -first battalions,[176] eight second battalions,[177] and five single -battalion corps.[178] All of the first-named category fought out the -whole war: but several of the other two were sent home, either when -they had been depleted to reinforce their first battalions, or for -other reasons. The proportion would have been larger but for the fact -that several of them were among the last arrivals in the Peninsula, who -only joined in the later autumn and winter campaigns of 1813–14, and -had not time to get worn down.[179] One second battalion (2/58th) was -worked as a four-company unit during the last two years of the war. - -The net result of all the interchange of battalions, and of the sending -home of weak units, was that in 1814, when the struggle with Napoleon -had come to its end, out of fifty-six British line battalions present -at the front, only thirteen were second battalions, and of these last -five[180] were (as has been already mentioned) so depleted in numbers -that they were being worked in pairs, being each only four companies -strong, and not mustering more than 250 or 300 men. - -[Sidenote: The Walcheren Regiments] - -That such weak half-units were detained in the Peninsula was due to a -resolve of Wellington’s, made after the campaign of 1811. During the -latter part of that year the chief of his worries was that he had been -sent out among his reinforcements a number of corps which had served -in the Walcheren expedition, where almost every man had the seeds of -ague in him, from a sojourn in the marshes of Holland. The heat of -the Portuguese summer and the torrential rains of the autumn at once -brought out the latent weakness in the constitution of men who were -little more than convalescents, and regiments which had landed at -Lisbon in July 850 strong showed only 550 in the ranks in October.[181] -So appalling was the accumulation of fever and ague cases in the -hospitals[182] that Wellington wrote home to beg that not another unit -which had been at Walcheren might be sent out to him. He now made up -his mind to keep old regiments, even when they had dwindled rather low -in numbers, rather than to send them home to recruit, and to receive -new battalions in their stead. The reason was that it took a corps many -months before it learnt to shift for itself, and to grow acclimatized. -During their first few months in the Peninsula, newly arrived units -always showed too many sick and too many stragglers. For men fresh -from barrack life in England were at first prostrated by the heat of -the climate and the length of the marches. They had still to pick up -the old campaigner’s tricks, and were very helpless. Veteran troops -were so superior in endurance to new regiments from England, most of -whom had been on the pestilential Walcheren expedition, and were still -full of rickety convalescents, that Wellington determined to keep -even remnants of old corps accustomed to the air of the Peninsula, -rather than to ask for more unacclimatized battalions from home. Hence -came the institution, in the end of 1812, of two of the “provisional -battalions” already mentioned.[183] At an earlier period of the war -they would undoubtedly have been sent back to England.[184] But now -these fractions of depleted veteran corps were taken, with excellent -results, all through the campaign of 1812–13–14. - -[Sidenote: Fate of Second Battalions] - -It is perhaps worth while to make a note how curious was Wellington’s -attitude in face of that rather exceptional occurrence the appearance -of two strong battalions of the same regiment in his army. If the -second battalion was weak, he soon drafted it into the first and sent -it home. But when, from some chance, both had full ranks, it did not -by any means always strike him as necessary to brigade them together. -For example, the 1/7th and 2/7th were both at the front from October, -1810, to July, 1811; but for several months of the time one was in the -4th Division, the other in the 1st. A still more striking instance -is that of the 48th. Its two battalions were both from their first -arrival placed in the 2nd Division, but they served from June, 1809, -to May, 1811, in different brigades of it.[185] The occasions when -the two battalions of the same regiment served for any time in one -brigade were very rare—I only know of the cases of the 1st and 3rd -battalions of the Foot Guards in 1813–14, of the two battalions of the -52nd between March, 1811, and March, 1812, and of those of the 7th -Fusiliers, who (after some service apart) had been brigaded together -in the 4th Division six months before Albuera. In the last two cases -the first battalion presently absorbed the second, which was sent home -as a skeleton _cadre_ when its strength at last began to run low. All -other cases of juxtaposition were so short that it would seem that -Wellington only brought the two battalions together for the purpose of -drafting the second into the first at the earliest convenient moment. -In this way the 2/88th (long in garrison at Lisbon) were brought up to -the front to be amalgamated in less than four months with the 1/88th -(March-July, 1811). The 1/5th, coming out in the summer of 1812, seems -to have served along with the 2/5th for about the same number of -months, the latter being sent home in October. The 1/38th similarly -arrived at about the same time, and served from June to November beside -the 2/38th, which then departed. These are very different cases from -those of the two battalions of the 7th, the 48th, and the 52nd, all of -which were present for a year or more together in the army. - -[Illustration: _PLATE V._ - -OFFICER OF RIFLES. - -1809. - -PRIVATE, INFANTRY OF THE LINE. - -1809.] - -The working unit of the Peninsular Army was always the ten-company -battalion, commanded by a lieutenant-colonel. When, as in the -exceptional cases just named, it chanced that two battalions of a -regiment got together, the senior of the two commanding officers -had no authority over the other. Both were directly responsible to -the brigadier. The battalion theoretically had thirty-five officers -and 1000 rank and file, besides sergeants and drummers. A pestilent -practice prevailed in all British general returns, of giving in -statistics of the larger sort only the number of rank and file (_i.e._ -corporals and privates), officers, sergeants, and musicians being all -omitted. To bring the figures up to the real general total in such a -case, an allowance of about one-eighth or one-ninth has to be added to -the number given. Fortunately detailed returns of all ranks are always -available, when absolute correctness is required, from the fortnightly -general states at the Record Office. - -The theoretical establishment of about 1150 of all ranks for a first -battalion was, of course, hardly ever seen in the field. Regiments -which landed at Lisbon with a full complement soon dwindled, even -before they got to the front, and nothing was rarer than a battalion in -line of battle with a total strength in the four figures.[186] A good -well-managed corps which had not been in action of late, and had not -been stationed in an unhealthy cantonment, might keep up to 700 and -even 800 men throughout a campaign. The Guards battalions, which had a -decidedly larger establishment than those of the line, were frequently -up to 900 men or more. - -On the other hand, a battalion which had seen much fighting, which had -not received its drafts regularly, and had long starved on the bleak -mountains of Beira, or sweltered in the pestilential valley of the -Guadiana, often worked down to 450 men or less, even if it were a first -battalion which had landed with its full 1000 rank and file. A second -battalion under similar circumstances might shrink to 250 or 300. At -the end of the very fatiguing campaign of 1811, which had included -the toilsome pursuit of Masséna, the Fuentes de Oñoro fighting, and -the long tarrying on the Caya during the unhealthy summer heats, of -forty-six battalions present with Wellington’s main army only nine (all -save one first-battalions, and two of them belonging to the Guards) -showed more than 700 of all ranks present. Sixteen more had between -500 and 700, ten between 400 and 500. No less than eleven were down to -the miserable figure of under 400 men, and it is to be noted that of -these nearly all were either second battalions or single-battalion -regiments; there were six of the former three of the latter among them. -The average of the whole, it may be seen, was about 550 men per unit; -the extreme variation was between 1005 for the strongest battalion and -263 for the weakest.[187] At this time, it should be noted, the army -was more sickly than it had ever been before, having over 14,000 men -in hospital to 29,300 present with the colours. Wellington was never -again so encumbered with sick, save for one period of a few weeks—that -which followed the end of the retreat from Burgos to Ciudad Rodrigo -in October-November, 1813. During the first months of this winter the -troops, tired by incessant marching in the rain, and low feeding, sent -into hospital a number of cases not less distressing than those which -had been seen in September, 1811. But a short period of rest served to -re-establish their health, and in 1813–14 the troops were very healthy, -even during the trying weeks when many of them were cantoned high among -the snows of the Pyrenean passes. - -[Sidenote: The Cavalry Regiments] - -So much for the infantry regiments. A few words as regards the cavalry -must be added to this chapter on organization. From first to last -Wellington had under him twenty-one regiments of British horse, besides -four more of the light and heavy cavalry of the King’s German Legion. -But at no time had he such a force as would be represented by this -total. He started in 1809 with eight regiments. Before he had been -many weeks in command one of his units (a fractional one, composed -of two squadrons of the 20th Light Dragoons) was taken from him and -shipped off to Sicily. Before the end of the year another (23rd Light -Dragoons), which had been badly cut up at Talavera, and lost half -its strength there, was sent home to recruit. Thus he had only six -regiments[188] on January 1, 1810, and as only one joined him that -year,[189] seven was his total force, till he at last received large -reinforcements in the late summer and autumn of 1811. But he started -the campaign of 1812 with sixteen regiments,[190] which was almost the -highest figure that he was to own. For although during the campaign of -1813 he was sent four new Hussar regiments, yet at the same time four -depleted corps were sent home to be recruited and reorganized. This -would have left his total at the same figure of sixteen units as in -1812, if he had not also received a large composite regiment (or weak -brigade) composed of two squadrons from each of the three units of the -Household Cavalry. By this addition alone did his cavalry force in -1813–14 exceed that which he had possessed in 1812. If we reckon the -Household squadrons as roughly equivalent to two units, the total at -the end of the war was eighteen regiments. - -[Sidenote: Faults of Raw Cavalry] - -Unlike the infantry, the cavalry of the British Army was organized -without exception in isolated units, as it is to-day. A corps sent -to the Peninsula left a depôt squadron behind it, and there was no -source except this depôt from which it could draw recruits. Nothing -resembling the sister-unit on which an infantry battalion depended was -in existence. Hence if a cavalry regiment sank low in numbers, and -exhausted the drafts which the depôt squadron could send out, it had -to return to England to recruit. During the whole war only one corps -(the 23rd Light Dragoons at Talavera) suffered a complete disaster, -corresponding to that which the 2nd Infantry Division incurred at -Albuera, and this unlucky regiment was sent home that autumn, when the -British Army had retreated to the Portuguese frontier. But four others -worked down so low in strength, and especially in horses, during the -campaign of 1812, that, although they had none of them been thinned -down in a single action like the 23rd, they had become ineffective, -and had to quit the Peninsula. It is most noteworthy that all of these -four corps were comparatively recent arrivals; they had come out in -1811, and in little over a single year had fallen into a state of -inefficiency far exceeding that of the regiments whose service dated -back to 1809, and who had seen two years more of hard campaigning.[191] -The moral to be drawn is the same that we have noted with the infantry: -the regiments which had served Wellington since his first arrival had -become acclimatized, and had learnt the tricks of the old soldier. -They could shift for themselves, and (what was no less important) -for their horses, far better than any newly-arrived corps. We find -bitter complaints of the defective scouting and outpost work of the -new-comers. After a petty disaster to the outlying pickets of two -of the lately-landed regiments Wellington wrote: “This disagreeable -circumstance tends to show the difference between old and new troops. -The old regiments of cavalry throughout all their service, with all -their losses put together, have not lost so many men as the 2nd Hussars -of the Legion and the 11th Light Dragoons in a few days. However, we -must try to make the new as good as the old.”[192] This was evidently -not too easy to accomplish; at any rate, at the end of the next year it -was four of the new corps[193] which were sent home as depleted units, -not any of the seven old ones. All these, without exception, endured -to the last campaign of 1814, though they nearly all[194] had to be -reduced from a four-squadron to a three-squadron establishment in -the autumn of 1811, owing to their shrunken effective. But they never -fell so low as the four corps condemned to return to England in the -next year. No more regiments went home after the winter of 1812–13; -the campaign of Vittoria and the Pyrenees did not bear heavily on the -cavalry, most of whom, during the mountain fighting in the autumn, were -comfortably cantoned in the Ebro Valley. They only moved forward again -in the spring of 1814 for that invasion of France which was brought to -such an abrupt end by the fall of Napoleon. - -The theoretical establishment of the regiments of cavalry (putting -aside the Household Cavalry) was in 1809 fixed at 905 men in nearly -every case. But a large depôt was always left behind in England, and if -a regiment landed 600 sabres in Portugal, in four squadrons, it was up -to the average strength. At the front it would seldom show more than -450, as horses began to die off or go sick the moment that they felt -the Peninsular air and diet. A regiment which had been reduced from -four squadrons to three might show only 300 men on parade in the middle -of a campaign. - -[Illustration: _PLATE VI._ - -OFFICER OF LIGHT DRAGOONS. - -UNIFORM OF 1809. - -OFFICER OF LIGHT DRAGOONS. - -UNIFORM OF 1813.] - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -INTERNAL ORGANIZATION OF THE REGIMENT: THE OFFICERS - - -Hitherto we have been dealing with the regiment considered as a whole, -and mainly with its place in the brigade and division to which it had -been allotted. We must now pass on to consider it not as a whole, but -as an assemblage of parts—officers, staff, sergeants, rank and file, -and musicians. - -To understand the mechanism of a regiment it is first necessary to -say something about the establishment of officers. Battalions and -cavalry regiments were normally commanded by a lieutenant-colonel: -there were very few full colonels with the army, and almost the only -ones who commanded a unit were those of the brigades of Guards, where -owing to the “double rank” which made all lieutenants “captains in -the army,” all captains lieutenant-colonels, and all majors and -lieutenant-colonels _full_ colonels, it resulted that the battalion -commander always held a colonelcy. - -[Sidenote: Devolution of Command] - -When the lieutenant-colonel in a battalion was dead, wounded, or sick, -the unit was often commanded by the senior major—there were normally -two of them—sometimes for many months at a time, till the absent -officer returned, or his place was filled by promotion. Cases were -known where, owing to great mortality or invaliding in the senior -ranks, a captain might be found in command of the battalion for a -certain space. I note that about the time of Bussaco the “morning -state” of the army shows two units (both of the Guards) commanded by -colonels, 30 by lieutenant-colonels, 16 by majors, one by a captain, -and this, I think, was a fairly normal proportion. - -In addition to the colonel and the two majors, an infantry battalion at -full strength would possess ten captains and twenty subalterns, or a -trifle more, giving the allowance of three officers per company, with a -few over. How many of the subalterns would be lieutenants and how many -ensigns (called 2nd lieutenants in the rifle regiments) was a matter of -mere chance, but the lieutenants were nearly always in a majority.[195] -A glance down the morning state of the Bussaco army of September, 1811, -shows that one battalion (1/45th) had no more than one ensign, another -(the 74th) as many as eleven. It was very rare for a regiment to have -its full establishment of ten captains present; there were nearly -always one or two companies commanded by their senior lieutenants. -In addition to its company officers every battalion had its “staff,” -composed of the adjutant, paymaster, quartermaster, and the surgeon, -with his two assistant surgeons. The adjutant was usually a lieutenant, -but occasionally an ensign; in the Guards (where most ranks counted -a step higher than in the line), he was usually a “lieutenant and -captain.” In addition to the officers regularly commissioned, a -battalion had often with it one or two “volunteers”—young men who -were practically probationers; they were allowed to come out to an -active-service battalion on the chance of being gazetted to it without -purchase, on their own responsibility. They carried muskets and served -in the ranks, but were allowed to wear uniforms of a better cloth than -that given to the rank and file, and messed with the officers. - -The most astonishing case of devolution of acting rank through the -death or wounding of many seniors was at the battle of Albuera. On -the morning after that action the wrecks of the second brigade of -the 2nd Division, temporarily united into one battalion because of -the dreadful losses which had fallen on every one of the three units -of which it consisted, were commanded by the senior captain of the -1/48th regiment—and he (as it chanced) was a French _emigré_, with the -somewhat lugubrious name of Cimitière. The brigade had been reduced -(it may be remarked) from a strength of 1651 to 597 in the battle, no -less than 1054 officers and men being killed, wounded, or missing, -and the brigadier, with five lieutenant-colonels and majors senior to -Cimitière having been killed or wounded.[196] But the Albuera losses -were, of course, the record in the way of heavy casualties; there is -nothing that can be compared to them in the annals of Wellington’s army -for general slaughter extending all through an army, though certain -individual regiments in particular engagements suffered almost as -heavily—_e.g._ in the storm of Badajoz and at Waterloo. - -The chances of temporary command were sometimes curious. The gallant -Colborne, whom I have already had occasion to mention, though only -a lieutenant-colonel, commanded a brigade at Albuera, owing to the -absence of the brigadier—he being the senior of four battalion -commanders. He then commanded his own regiment only during 1811–13, but -succeeded as senior lieutenant-colonel to the charge of a brigade of -the Light Division for the last six months of the war. Though he had -thus twice commanded a brigade with distinction in the Peninsula, we -find him in the Waterloo campaign once more at the head of his own 52nd -Foot, in Adam’s brigade. It is true that with his single battalion he -there did more than most of the generals, by giving the decisive stroke -which wrecked the attack of the French Guard. - -Not only did lieutenant-colonels practically become brigadiers, in an -interim fashion, pretty frequently, but once at least an officer with -no higher rank commanded a whole division for some months. This was -Colonel Andrew Barnard, who after Craufurd fell at Ciudad Rodrigo, -and the only other general with the division (Vandeleur) was wounded, -had charge of the most precious unit of Wellington’s whole army for -nearly five months, and headed it at the storm of Badajoz. There seems -to have been a similar, but a shorter phenomenon of this sort with the -3rd Division, after the fall of Badajoz, when, Generals Picton and -Kempt being both disabled, Colonel Wallace of the Connaught Rangers -commanded the division for a week or two—till Wellington drafted in his -brother-in-law, General Pakenham, to lead it, which he did with great -distinction at Salamanca.[197] - -[Sidenote: The Purchase System] - -Promotion in the British Army at this period was working in the most -irregular and spasmodic fashion, there being two separate influences -operating in diametrically opposite ways. The one was the purchase -system, the other the frequent, but not by any means sufficiently -frequent, promotion for merit and good service in the field. The -practice at the Horse Guards was that casualties by deaths in -action were filled up inside the regiment, without money passing, -but that for all other vacancies the purchase system worked. When a -lieutenant-colonelcy, majority, or captaincy was vacant, the senior -in the next lower rank had a moral right to be offered the vacancy at -the regulation price. But there were many cases in which more than the -regulation could be got. The officer retiring handed over the affair -to a “commission broker,” and bidding was invited. A poor officer at -the head of those of his own rank could not afford to pay the often -very heavy price, and might see three or four of his juniors buy their -way over his head, while he vainly waited for a vacancy by death, by -which he would obtain his step without having to pay cash. The system -of exchanges, which prevailed on the largest scale, also pressed very -hardly on the impecunious; officers from other corps, where there -was a block in promotion, managed for themselves a transference into -battalions where there seemed to be a likelihood of a more rapid -change of rank, by paying large differences for an exchange to those -who stood at the head of the list. But there was also a good deal of -exchanging for other reasons—officers whose regiments were ordered -to unhealthy or unpopular stations, such as the West Indies or New -South Wales, offered considerable sums to others who were ready to -accept the ineligible destination in return for hard cash. By careful -management of this sort, a wealthy officer could procure himself very -rapid promotion—_e.g._ a lieutenant might buy a captaincy in a West -India regiment for a comparatively modest sum, and then, as a captain -in such a corps, exchange on a second payment with a broken or needy -captain in some other regiment on a European station, to whom money was -all-important, and so get well established in his new rank, without -ever really having quitted home, or served in the corps into and out -of which he had rapidly come and gone—on paper only. It is said that -one young officer, who had the advantages of being wealthy, a peer, -and possessed of great family influence in Parliament, was worked up -from a lieutenancy to a lieutenant-colonelcy in a single year. This, -of course, was a very exceptional case, and happened long ere the -Peninsular War began; but it may be remembered that Wellington himself, -was, through similar advantages on a smaller scale, enabled to move -up from ensign on March 7, 1787, to lieutenant-colonel in September, -1793—five steps in seven years, during which he had been moved through -as many regiments—two of horse and five of foot. He was only nineteen -months a captain and six months a major, and he had seen no war service -whatever when he sailed for Flanders in command of the 33rd at the age -of twenty-three! The Duke of York later insisted on a certain minimum -service in each rank before promotion could be obtained. - -Contrast with such promotion that of the poor and friendless officer -who, after twenty-five years of service, six Peninsular campaigns, and -two wounds, found himself still a captain at the age of 43![198] But -there were plenty of unlucky men who at the end of the war were still -only lieutenants after six campaigns, and were placed on half-pay as -such, at the great disbandment of the second battalions which took -place in 1816–17. The juxtaposition of rapid promotion obtainable by -influence and the purchase of steps, with absolute stagnation in a -low rank, which often fell on the impecunious officer, whose regiment -did not chance to have many casualties in action, was appalling and -monstrous. - -I take it that the most pernicious of all the disturbing causes -which told against the right distribution of promotion was political -influence. As a contemporary pamphleteer wrote: “Instances are very -few indeed of preferment being obtained by other corrupt means[199] -compared to the omnipotence of Parliamentary interest. Thence -originates the shameful practice of thrusting boys into a company -over the heads of all the lieutenants and ensigns of the regiment. -The Duke of York has done something to check it, but he can never -remove the Colossus of Parliamentary interest, an interest that -disdains solicitation, and imperiously _demands_ from the minister of -the day that which no minister ever found it convenient to deny. To -this species of influence the commander-in-chief must give way—for it -is capable, when slighted, of removing both commander-in-chief and -minister.”[200] - -[Sidenote: The King’s Hard Bargains] - -It was to the unscrupulous use by great men of their parliamentary -influence upon the ministry of the day that the army owed a great -proportion of its “King’s hard bargains” in the commissioned -ranks. The obscure but necessary instruments of one of the great -borough-mongers—Whig no less than Tory—were often paid by the -nomination of their sons or other young relatives to a commission, by -the influence of their patron: and the families that did the dirty -work of a great politician were not likely to be distinguished for -high morals or uprightness. Sometimes the nominations were absolutely -shameful—it is said that the son of the keeper of a fashionable -gaming-house in St. James’ was slid into the list of ensigns on one -occasion, by a politician whom his father had obliged. Whether this -be true or not, it is certain that there was a sprinkling of officers -who were not gentlemen in any sense of the term serving throughout the -war.[201] Others about whose gentle blood there was no doubt, were -undesirable in other ways—prominent among them a section of young -Irish squireens with the bullying and duelling habits, as well as -the hard-drinking, which were notoriously prevalent among the less -civilized strata of society beyond St. George’s Channel. I find in -one memoir a note of a newly-joined ensign after mess addressing the -assembled officers as follows: “By Jasus, gentlemen, I am conscious you -must have the meanest opinion of my courage. Here have I been no less -than six weeks with the regiment, and the divil of a duel have I fought -yet. Now, Captain C., you are the senior captain, and if you please I -will begin with you first: so name your time and place.” As the diarist -very wisely writes, “one could not be too guarded in one’s conduct with -such heroes.”[202] - -Duels, I may remark in passing, were much less frequent in the -Peninsular Army than might have been expected. Wellington (though long -after he most foolishly “went out” with Lord Winchelsea in 1829) set -his face against them on active service, because he could not afford to -lose good officers on account of personal quarrels. There certainly -were much fewer duels proportionately in the Peninsula than in England -at the time—not to speak of Ireland and India, where they were beyond -all reason common. I have only found records of four fatal duels in the -records of court-martials, and though non-fatal ones could have been -(and were) hushed up, they cannot have been very numerous, for one may -read through scores of memoirs and diaries without running upon the -mention of one. It is curious to note that when they did occur, and a -court-martial followed, that body invariably found that though there -was no doubt that Captain A. or Lieutenant B. was dead, yet there was -no conclusive proof that he had been killed by C. or D.—the mouths of -the seconds being sealed by the fact that they were also on their trial -for having acted in such a capacity.[203] The whole matter was clearly -a solemn farce. But the fact remains that duels were not frequent, -and that duellists had a bad mark against them. Good commanding -officers took immense trouble to prevent a duel from arising over silly -mess-table quarrels, exerting every influence to make one party, or -both, apologize for words spoken in anger, or in liquor.[204] - -The body of officers of a Peninsular regiment was often a very odd -party—there might be a lieutenant-colonel of twenty-six, who had risen -rapidly by purchase or interest, and captains of fifty or even sixty; I -found a note of one who had attained that age in the 73rd. At the head -of each rank there might be several impecunious and disappointed men, -waiting for the promotion that could only come by casualties in action, -since they could never hope to purchase their step. Nevertheless, the -feuds that might have been expected to follow such a situation do not -seem to have been so many, or so bitter, as might have been expected. -The grudge was set against the system rather than the individual, in -most cases, and the sight of a mess cut up into cliques and coteries -of enemies, though it can be found recorded occasionally, was quite -exceptional.[205] The saving fact was that there was always the chance -of promotion for merit, in reward of some specially gallant deed, and -it often came—though the Duke was occasionally incomprehensible in the -way in which he mentioned or did not mention officers in dispatches. -The lieutenant who brought down the French flag from the castle of -Badajoz, and who was sent with it by Picton to the commander-in-chief, -was thanked and asked to dinner, but was still a lieutenant years -after, in spite of his general’s vehement remonstrances.[206] Dozens of -such instances could be quoted. - -[Sidenote: Professional Training] - -Professional training for officers had perforce been non-existent in -the early years of the French war. There was no institution which -supplied it, and all military knowledge had to be acquired by rule -of thumb at regimental headquarters. An improvement of the greatest -importance was made by the establishment in December, 1801, of the -“Royal Military College” at High Wycombe for the use of young officers, -followed by the creation of its “Junior Department” in May, 1802, -“for the instruction of those who from early life are intended for -the military profession.” The latter, the origin of the college at -Sandhurst, to which the department was removed in 1811, accepted boys -as early as thirteen. Its first inspector-general was the French -_emigré_ Jarry, to whom we owe the “Instructions for Light Infantry -in the Field” of 1804, while Colonel John Gaspard Le Marchant was -“Lieutenant-governor and Superintendant General.” This was the -accomplished cavalry officer who fell in 1812, at the head of his -brigade, in the crisis of the battle of Salamanca, when he had just -delivered a decisive charge. The military college men were already -numerous when the Peninsular War began. - -[Sidenote: The “Belemites”] - -The French General, Foy, a witness whose authority can hardly be -called in question, for he is making grudging admissions, says that he -considered the general mass of the British officers excellent.[207] The -more we study detailed records, the more willingly do we acknowledge -that his praise is well deserved. The weaker brethren were very few—so -few that an enemy did not even notice them. Misconduct on the field was -the rarest of offences; there are hardly half a dozen court-martials -for suspected slackness, among the hundreds that were held for other -offences. There were an appreciable number of officers “broke” for -faults that came from hard drinking, “incapable when on duty,” and so -forth, or brawling, and a very few for financial irregularities; but -considering the unpromising material that was sometimes pitchforked -into a regiment by the unscrupulous exercise of patronage at home, -they were exceedingly few. The only class of failures who had any -appreciable numbers, and earned a special name, were the “Belemites,” -so called from the general depôt at the convent of Belem in the suburbs -of Lisbon. This was the headquarters of all officers absent from the -front as convalescents or on leave, and the limited proportion who -stayed there over-long, and showed an insufficient eagerness to return -to their regiments, were nicknamed from the spot where they lingered -beyond the bounds of discretion. Wellington occasionally gave an order -to Colonel Peacocke, the military governor of Lisbon, to rout up this -coterie—there were always a sprinkling there who were not over-anxious -to resume the hard life of campaigning, and loved too much the -gambling-hells and other sordid delights of Lisbon.[208] Occasionally -the notices which appear in General Orders about these gentry are -rather surprising—one would not have thought that such men could even -have obtained a commission. Take, for example, “The commanding officer -at Lisbon (or the commanding officer of any station at which Captain -—— of the 88th may happen to be found), will be pleased to place that -officer under arrest, and send him to join his regiment, he having been -absent for several months without leave, and having been in Portugal -since October 20th last, without reporting himself to or communicating -with his commanding officer.”[209] - -Wellington in his moments of irritation sometimes wrote as if the -majority of his officers were slack and disobedient. Such men existed; -but, as one who knew the Duke well observed, “by long exercise of -absolute power he had become intolerant of the slightest provocation, -and every breach of discipline, no matter how limited its range, -made him furious with the whole army. Hence frequent General Orders, -as violent as they were essentially unjust, wherein, because of the -misdeeds of a few, all who served under him were denounced—the officers -as ignorant of their duty, the rank and file as little better than a -rabble.”[210] - -But the duty-shirking officer, and still more the disreputable officer -was, after all, a very rare exception. The atmosphere of contempt which -surrounded him in his regiment as a rule sufficed to make him send -in his papers, after a longer or a shorter period of endurance, in -proportion as his skin was tough or thin. Opinion was not so hard upon -the man who was merely quarrelsome and ungentlemanly in his cups. But -there were limits even to the boisterousness permitted to the tippler, -and drunkenness when in face of the enemy, or in a position of military -responsibility, was always fatal. - -[Sidenote: Officers from the Ranks] - -There was, throughout the war, a perceptible proportion of officers who -had risen from the ranks. Meritorious service, showing good capacity as -well as courage, not unfrequently led to the promotion of a sergeant -to an ensigncy. A well-remembered case is that of the Sergeant Newman -of the 43rd who rallied the stragglers during the march from Lugo to -Betanzos, in the Corunna retreat, and beat off the pursuing French -dragoons. Another is that of Sergeant Masterson of the 2/87th, who -captured the eagle of the _8th Ligne_ at Barrosa. Many more might be -quoted, though none of them is so striking as that of a man who did not -serve in the Peninsula, but in contemporary campaigns in India, the -celebrated John Shipp. He was _twice_ given a commission for deeds of -exceptional daring. After winning his first ensigncy in the storming -party at the Siege of Bhurtpoor in 1805, he was forced to “sell out” -a little later by improvident living. He enlisted as a private in -another regiment, and was again promoted from the ranks for a single -combat with a Nepaulese chief during the first Goorkha War of 1815. -Conducting himself with more wisdom on his second chance, he served -long as an officer, and when he went on half-pay became chief-constable -of Liverpool. His autobiography is an artless and interesting piece of -work well worth perusal. - -When a regiment had greatly distinguished itself in the field, -Wellington not unfrequently directed its colonel to recommend a -sergeant for a commission. This, for example, was done for all three -battalions of the Light Division after their splendid exploit at -Bussaco. Yet he did not approve of this system of promotion as anything -but a very exceptional measure, and in his table-talk with Lord -Stanhope we find some very harshly worded verdicts on old rankers, -“their origin would come out, and you could never perfectly trust -them,”[211] especially in the matter of drink. This seems to be a -typical instance of the Duke’s aristocratic prejudices—but there was -something in what he said. The position of the promoted sergeants was -certainly difficult, and it required a man of exceptional character to -make it good. As a rule, they drifted into the position of paymasters, -recruiting officers, barrack masters, and such-like posts. But many of -them made useful and efficient adjutants. In command they were not as a -rule successful,[212] and I have only come on a single case of one who -reached the rank of full colonel, and of two who were fortunate enough -to obtain a majority. It is clear that the purchase system pressed -very hardly upon them: with no private resources it was impossible for -them ever to buy a step, and, after reaching the rank of captain, they -almost invariably went upon half-pay or looked for employment in some -civil or semi-civil capacity. - -Concerning the equipment of the officer, his baggage, his horses and -mules, and his servants, information will be found in another chapter. -Here we are dealing with him as an item in the machinery of the -regiment. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -INTERNAL ORGANIZATION OF THE REGIMENT: THE RANK AND FILE - - -He who would make himself acquainted in detail with the many -experiments by which British Governments, from the rupture of the Peace -of Amiens onward, strove to keep on foot in full numbers the very large -army that it had raised, must satisfy his curiosity by studying the -admirable volumes of Mr. Fortescue. Here we are concerned only with -the methods which prevailed from 1809 till 1814, and gave Wellington -the invincible, though often attenuated, battalions which conquered at -Talavera and Bussaco, at Salamanca and Toulouse. - -[Sidenote: Volunteers from the Militia] - -In the Peninsular Army the system of territorial names prevailed for -nearly all the regiments of the line, but in most cases the local -designation had no very close relation with the actual _provenance_ of -the men. There were a certain number of regiments that were practically -national, _e.g._ most of the Highland battalions, and nearly all of -the Irish ones, were very predominantly Highland and Irish as to -their rank and file: but even in the 79th or the 88th there was a -certain sprinkling of English recruits. And in some nominally Scottish -regiments like the 71st Highland Light Infantry, or the 90th Perthshire -Volunteers,[213] the proportion of English and Irish was very large. -Similarly in almost all the nominally English regiments there was a -large sprinkling of Irish, and a few Scots. This came partly from the -fact that, though the corps recruited in their own districts, yet they -were often allowed to send recruiting parties to great centres like -London, Bristol, Liverpool, Glasgow, or Dublin. But still more was it -due to the fact that the larger half of the recruits were raised not in -the old normal fashion, but by volunteering from the embodied militia, -and that in this system practically no attempt was made to confine -the choice of militiamen wishing to join the regular army to their -territorial regiment. Nothing, for example, was more usual than to -find such things as 100 of the King’s County Militia joining the 31st -or Huntingdonshire Regiment. When the 77th or East Middlesex Regiment -returned from India in 1808, it was completed, before going out to the -Peninsula, from the 1st West York, North and South Mayo, Northampton, -and South Lincoln Militia, but did not get a single man from the -Middlesex Militia.[214] The Shropshire Regiment (53rd) when allowed in -a similar case to call for volunteers, did get 99 from its own county -militia, but 144 more from the Dorset, East York, and Montgomery local -corps.[215] The 81st or Loyal Lincoln was filled up in 1808, before -sailing for Portugal, from the Dublin, King’s County, South Devon, and -Montgomery Militia. Instances might be multiplied _ad nauseam_. It was -quite exceptional for any English corps to contain a preponderance of -men from its own nominal district, and nearly all of them had from a -fifth to a fourth of Irish. - -It is impossible to exaggerate the advantage to the Peninsular Army -of the system, the invention of Castlereagh when War Minister, which -enabled it to draw in such a heavy proportion on the militia for -recruits.[216] The men thus obtained had all had at least twelve -months’ drill and discipline, in a corps which had been under arms for -many years: they were trained soldiers of some little experience, much -superior in fact to the recruits who had been procured in other ways. -The permanent militia represented the force raised by the counties by -ballot, though substitutes rather than principals were procured by -that device. Being forced to serve at home for a period of years, the -militiamen freely volunteered into the line, from love of adventure, -dislike of dull country quarters in England or Ireland,[217] and, -it must be added, the temptation of the enormous bounty, running at -various times from £16 up to £40, which was given to those changing -their service.[218] - -It is a mistake to make a point, as some writers have done, of the fact -that many regiments appeared in Spain with their ranks “full of raw -militiamen, who sometimes still bore their old militia badges on their -knapsacks.” So far from their being ineligible recruits, they were the -very best, for the militia of 1808–14 was not a body called out for -short service during one month of the year, but a permanent institution -which practically formed a second line to the field army. And no man -was allowed to volunteer into the regulars till he had served a full -year in the local corps in which he had enlisted. A regiment must get -drafts on active service, and these were the very best sort that could -be obtained. Of course a corps filled up hastily with a great number -of them, would want a little time to shake down, but it would take -far longer to assimilate a corresponding number of ordinary recruits, -hurried out from its regimental depôt—for these men would neither -have had a whole year’s drill, nor would they have been accustomed to -the daily economy of a full regiment—depôts seem to have been slackly -administered, in many cases by officers and sergeants invalided and -past service, or who had of their own desire shirked the service at the -front. - -[Sidenote: The Normal Recruit] - -The other moiety of the recruits who came out to the Peninsula, to -fill up the never-ending gaps in the ranks of a battalion at the -front, were on the whole worse material than the militiamen. They -were the usual raw stuff swept in by the recruiting sergeant—all -those restless spirits who were caught by the attraction of the red -coat, country lads tired of the plough, or town lads who lived on the -edge of unemployment, and to whom a full stomach had been for some -time a rarity. We have autobiographies of runaway apprentices who -had bolted from a hard master,[219] and of village Lotharios who had -evaded an entanglement by a timely evasion.[220] Sons of hard fathers, -and stepsons of intolerable stepmothers drifted in, and still more -frequently the rowdy spirits who were “wanted” by the constable for -assault and battery, or for some rural practical joke which had set the -parish in an uproar. The oddest cause of enlisting that I have come -upon is that of a son of a respectable Edinburgh tradesman’s family, -whose account of the fortunes of the 71st in 1808–15 is one of the best -written of all the soldier-biographies. A stage-struck youth with a -little money in his pocket, he had often gone on (no doubt as a super) -at the Theatre Royal, carrying a banner or a five-word message. At last -the summit of his ambition came—a friendly manager gave him a short -part, where he had actually some share in the action. He invited all -his friends to the performance to see his glory, came on the boards, -and was suddenly struck with stage fright, so that he stood gaping and -silent before the audience, and heard the laughter and hooting begin. -The poor wretch bolted straight away from the stage in his costume -and paint, ran down to Leith, and enlisted with a sergeant of the -71st, whose party was sailing that night for the South. Anything was -preferable to him rather than to face next morning the jeers of the -friends to whom he had boasted of his histrionic powers, and who had -come to see his début.[221] - -[Sidenote: Undesirable Recruits] - -But these were the better spirits. There was a much lower stratum -among the recruits, drawn from the criminal or semi-criminal classes, -whom the enormous bounty offered for volunteers had tempted into -the service—generally with the purpose of getting out of it again -as soon as possible. Not only were there poachers, smugglers, and -street-corner roughs, who had been offered by the local authorities -the choice between enlistment and the jail, but pickpockets, coiners, -and footpads, who had made London or some other great town too hot -for them, often enlisted as a _pis aller_, intending to desert and -“jump another bounty” when they could. But sergeants were lynx-eyed -when they found that they had enlisted a slippery customer, and the -evasive recruit often found himself kept under lock and key in a fort, -and shipped off to Spain before he got his opportunity to abscond. The -number of these “King’s hard bargains” varied much between different -regiments, but Colborne, a good authority, says that the battalion was -lucky which had not its fifty irreclaimable bad characters, drunkards, -plunderers, stragglers, would-be deserters, actual criminals “whom -neither punishment nor any kind of discipline could restrain; for the -system of recruiting was defective and radically bad.”[222] It was this -scum, a small proportion of the whole, but always swimming to the top -when there was mischief to be done—peasants to be plundered or churches -to be pillaged—that provided the subject-matter for court-martials, -and engrossed the majority of the attention of the Provost Marshal. -Officers of undoubted humanity, and men in the ranks who knew what they -were talking about, unite in stating that there was a residuum in the -Peninsular Army which could only be governed by the lash. - -This small percentage of irreclaimables provided the nucleus around -which misconduct sometimes grew to a great scale, in moments of -special privation or temptation. In abominable orgies like the sack of -Badajoz, or the lesser but still disgraceful riots at Ciudad Rodrigo -and San Sebastian, it was the criminals who started the game, but the -drunkards—a far more numerous class—who took it up. When the drink -was in them, the mob was capable of any freak of wanton mischief or -cruelty. Wellington more than once complained that the most reckless -and ungovernable of his rowdies were the newly-joined Irish recruits. -It seems that when in liquor they became irresponsible madmen, and -had not undergone enough of discipline to get them into a habit of -obedience, which might serve as a substitute for moral sense. And I can -well believe this from casual evidence picked up in the diaries of his -obscure subordinates. The account of the difficulties of officers and -sergeants in getting a large draft of Irish recruits from Cashel to -Deal, which I met in one soldier-diary reads like a nightmare[223]—or -a glimpse of some primitive pagan heaven, in which all was objectless -fighting in the intervals between frequent and limitless potations. -As a side-light on the national failing, I may quote the fact that -going through the complete record of general court-martials for the -whole period 1809–14, I found that after putting aside all trials of -officers, non-combatants, and foreign auxiliaries (the last almost -always for desertion) there was an unmistakable over-percentage of men -with Irish names, just as there was an under-percentage of Scots. The -offences for which the former were tried were generally desertion and -crimes of violence, plundering or maltreating the peasantry.[224] - -The way in which the habitually criminal element makes itself visible -in this list of court-martials is in the not infrequent cases of -scientific and habitual burglary, robbery of the convoys going to -the military chest, or of the private property of officers, and the -stealing of church plate—all offences often punished with death, for -Wellington rarely pardoned the professional thief, though he sometimes -let off a deserter with a sound flogging. But the queerest glimpse -into the lowest stratum of the army is the curious anecdote recorded -in Napier’s fifth volume. Nonplussed in the winter of 1813–14 by the -refusal of the French peasantry to accept the dollars or the guineas -which were all that he could offer, Wellington determined to set up -a mint of his own, which should melt down Spanish and Portuguese -silver and recoin it in the form of five franc pieces. He sent private -appeals to the colonels to find him all the professional coiners that -they could discover in the ranks, collected as many as forty at St. -Jean de Luz, and with their aid struck a large quantity of money, of -which he was careful to see that the weight and the purity were both -correct.[225] - -[Sidenote: The Gentleman-Ranker] - -Occasionally the gentleman-ranker was to be found in a Peninsular -regiment. He was generally an “undesirable,” who had enlisted in -consequence of some disgraceful quarrel with a family who had refused -to do anything more for him. Persistent drink, gambling, or dishonesty -were the usual causes that had broken him—not undeserved misfortune or -dire poverty. Occasionally he pulled himself together, became a good -soldier, and was ultimately promoted to a commission. More often he -sank into a persistent drunkard or a criminal. Surtees of the 95th, -in an interesting chapter, gives the biographies of the four privates -of this class that he had known.[226] One conducted himself well for -some years, became a paymaster-sergeant, and then broke out into a -wild fit of dissipation, embezzled the company’s money, and committed -suicide on detection. The second was always in scrapes: finally he was -caught deserting to the French, and was lucky to get off with penal -servitude for life instead of death. The third, “always excessively -wild,” was once made a corporal, but was not fit for that or any other -rank. The fourth was one of the exceptional cases—being a retired -lieutenant without friends or means, who had enlisted as a private in -sheer poverty. He was an exemplary and deserving man, who was soon made -secretary, or private clerk, to his colonel, behaved excellently, and -was in the end restored to his former rank in the army by interest made -in his behalf. - -A regiment on Peninsular service depended for its strength on the -regularity with which it was fed from its home-battalion or its depôt. -Whenever a convoy sailed from Spithead, it contained an immense number -of small detachments, varying from a few scores to over a hundred men, -under charge of officers newly gazetted to the service battalion, or -returning from sick leave. There was often much wrangling on shipboard -(unless the weather reduced every one to the same level of nausea -and helplessness), not only between the men but between the young -officers in charge of them. After an angry comparison of the exact -date of commissions, which settled seniority in the choice of berths, -and in dealing with the transport-captain, two ensigns in charge of -detachments would often settle down to a feud destined to last for the -whole voyage to Lisbon. Their men gleefully joined in the wrangle. -There are some absurd sidelights, in court-martials, on these frequent -shipboard quarrels, which sometimes ended in affrays and “conduct -unbecoming an officer and a gentleman.” - -When a detachment landed at Lisbon, the officer in charge, often -a lad of sixteen, had to shepherd his flock to the front, perhaps -over 200 miles of mountain roads. Neither officers nor men knew a -word of Portuguese, or had the slightest notion of the manners, -government, prejudices, or food of the peasantry. They went forward -in a perpetual haze of mistakes and misunderstandings. Every draft -had its percentage of undesirables, or even of criminals. Hence the -young officer, responsible for their safe delivery at the front, found -himself embroiled in constant disputes with the natives, often ending -in his arrest on his final arrival at headquarters. We must feel -nothing but sympathy for the unfortunate young man who delivered only -twenty-nine out of a detachment of forty-one entrusted to him; or the -other who found that fourteen men out of twenty had privately disposed -of their new blankets.[227] The only way of managing the draft was by -reliance on the sergeant or two who formed a part of it: and if the -sergeant was himself a sluggard or a tippler, ill fared his superior. -Imagine the feelings of the second-lieutenant who having left his -one non-commissioned officer behind, to hunt up footsore stragglers, -found no one arrive at the nightly billet, and returning for miles to -seek the lost ones, discovered his sergeant dead drunk and snoring in -the middle of the high-road.[228] Ability to conduct a draft to the -battalion was one of the greatest tests of the character and capacity -of a junior officer. - -[Sidenote: Concerning Sergeants] - -The responsibility of the non-commissioned officer cannot be -exaggerated. It was easy to make sergeants, but not easy to secure them -of the proper quality. Too often the man promoted for an act of courage -or of quick cleverness had to be reduced to the ranks again, for some -hopeless failing—he was prone to drink,[229] or he was an over-harsh or -an over-slack administrator of discipline. One of the commoner types of -court-martial was that of the non-commissioned officer who connived at -and profited by the misdeeds of the men under his charge—whose silence -was bought by a percentage, when peasants were plundered, or convoys -lightened of food, shoes, or clothing. It was often difficult to get at -him—to prove that he had known of what was going on, and had contrived -to see nothing. But the numbers of reductions to the ranks were -notable, and lashes were often added when part of the _corpus delicti_ -was found in the sergeant’s pack. - -However, the ideal sergeant was not unfrequently found, and when -found he was invaluable; he had to be a steady man with a modicum of -education and a sense of duty, who could be relied upon neither to -connive at his men’s graver faults, nor, on the other hand, to be -perpetually spying on them and reporting them to their captains for -every minute breach of discipline. Tact was as necessary as the power -to get orders carried out. The bullying sergeant would, in the end, -get left in some quandary or dilemma by the men that he was always -harrying, while the considerate sergeant would get the benefit of his -popularity by receiving loyal and intelligent service instead of mere -obedience. - -Most important of all non-commissioned officers was the sergeant-major, -concerning whose position I cannot do better than quote the homily of a -Highland soldier more given to philosophical disquisitions than most of -the diarists from the ranks.[230] - -“The sergeant-major has an arduous duty to perform; in all the -arrangements of regimental duty he takes, or ought to take, the most -active concern. He has, of course, been considered by his colonel a -meritorious man, before he appoints him to this highest step to which -a non-commissioned officer can attain: and, as it is frequently found -necessary to consult him on the interior economy of the regiment, if -he is possessed of any talents they are sure to be seen and called -forth. Fortunate is the regiment which possess a good sergeant-major. -His rank is not such as to make him above associating with and advising -the other non-commissioned officers: his own personal example is -the means of swaying their actions: he cautions them against unjust -oppression, yet shrinks not from pointing out the cases which require -coercive measures. He recommends for promotion those who meritoriously -aspire to rise from the ranks. His commanding officer is seldom -troubled with complaints, for he settles them to the satisfaction of -the accuser and accused. No mercenary motive actuates his conduct -in reconciling differences, and his hands are never soiled with the -gift of an inferior. To those who are unacquainted with the influence -which sergeant-majors generally possess this may seem a hyperbole; -but to me it appears a fact; I speak not of one regiment but of many. -A sergeant-major, on the other hand, can be a little tyrant in the -corps, without the knowledge of his colonel: his unnecessary acts of -oppression may be made to appear to his superiors as laudable zeal, and -his severity as merit deserving reward.... If the commanding officer -be of an easy, complying turn, or again of a repulsive, haughty, -_don’t-trouble-me_ disposition, and the adjutant (which is often the -case) not over well informed, the sergeant-major is consulted on all -occasions. His opinion is asked as to character, he can establish or -injure at pleasure, for who will be called in to contradict him? In -short he has much more to say between the non-commissioned officers -and the colonel, concerning the poor soldiers’ conduct, than all the -captains and subalterns of the regiment.”[231] - -[Sidenote: The Sergeant’s Self-Respect] - -The gap between the sergeant and the men in the ranks was necessarily a -well-marked one. The non-commissioned officers kept together and formed -messes of their own. “Pride and propriety” kept them from joining in -the carouses of the rank and file. “He who has once joined the company -of sergeants is disincluded for any other,”[232] writes one veteran -proud of well-deserved promotions. The non-commissioned officer who was -too familiar with his inferiors was generally one of those who profited -by their misdeeds, and would some day be convicted of sharing their -plunder, or conniving at their excesses. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THE AUXILIARIES: THE GERMANS AND THE PORTUGUESE - - -Of the two classes of foreign troops which assisted to make up the -invincible divisions of the Peninsular Army, the one formed at the -time an integral part of the British military establishment; the other -was the contingent of an allied Power, placed at the disposition of -Wellington, and incorporated with the units of his host, but preserving -its own national individuality. - -We must deal with the first class before we proceed to explain the -position of the second. Copying old British precedent, the governments -of George III. had taken into pay a number of foreign corps from the -very commencement of the Revolutionary War. They were the successors of -the Hanoverians against whom the elder Pitt had railed so fiercely in -his hot youth, and of the Hessians who had taken such a prominent part -in the War of American Independence. - -The regiments raised in the early years of the great struggle with -France had mainly been composed of Swiss, or of French royalist -_emigrés_. Most of these corps had disappeared by 1809, and of those -of them which survived the majority were doing garrison duty in the -Mediterranean and elsewhere.[233] Wellington never had them under his -hand. The foreign troops which came under his command were nearly all -German, and consisted of regiments raised after the rupture of the -Peace of Amiens. - -[Sidenote: The King’s German Legion] - -By far the largest number of them belonged to that admirable corps the -King’s German Legion, whose history was written with great care and -enthusiasm by Ludlow Beamish, while the generation which fought in the -Peninsula was still alive. They were the legitimate representatives of -the old Electoral army of Hanover, the comrades of the British troops -in many a fight of the War of the Austrian Succession and of the Seven -Years’ War. When in June, 1803, Napoleon invaded Hanover, and overran -it with the troops of Mortier, the 15,000 men who formed the standing -army of the electorate could make no effective resistance. They laid -down their arms in accordance with the Convention of Lauenburg (July -5, 1803), which disbanded them, and permitted officers and men to go -where they pleased, with the proviso that none of them would bear arms -against France till they should have been exchanged for French officers -or men in the hands of the English Government.[234] - -The best and most loyal of the Hanoverian officers began at once -to betake themselves to England, and by the end of the year were -streaming thither by dozens and scores. Men soon began to follow in -considerable numbers, and after two provisional infantry regiments had -been formed in August, a larger organization, to be called the King’s -German Legion, was authorized in December. It included light and line -infantry, heavy and light cavalry, artillery and engineers. All through -1804 new units were being rapidly created, mainly from Hanoverians, but -not entirely, for other recruits of German nationality were accepted. -But all the officers, nearly all the sergeants, and the large majority -of the rank and file came from the old Electoral army. By January, -1805, there were in existence a dragoon and a hussar regiment, four -Line and two Light battalions, and five batteries of artillery. - -In November, 1805, when Lord Cathcart’s expedition sailed for the -Weser, to make a diversion in favour of Austria, the whole German -Legion went with him. For a few short weeks the invaders were in -possession of Bremen and Verden, Stade, and Hanover city, before -the news of the disastrous peace that followed Austerlitz came to -hand. During this space immense numbers of Hanoverians flocked to -the colours, some old soldiers, others volunteers who had not served -before. When the army evacuated Hanover in February, 1806, it brought -back so many recruits that the Legion was raised to ten battalions of -infantry and five regiments of horse. - -These were almost the last genuine Hanoverians that were raised for -service in the corps, for when the electorate was annexed to Jerome -Bonaparte’s “Kingdom of Westphalia,” it became part of the French -Imperial system, and was subjected to the conscription for Jerome’s -service. Only a few individuals henceforth succeeded in getting to -England and joining the Legion by circuitous ways. But there were -some good recruits obtained at Stralsund and in Denmark during the -Copenhagen Expedition at the end of 1807, when the Legion was for some -weeks in the Baltic. - -The battalions and squadrons were still mainly Hanoverian, when, in -1808, the larger half of them was sent to the Peninsula. In that year -one Hussar regiment (the 3rd), two Light and four Line battalions (Nos. -1, 2, 5, 7), landed in Portugal. Of these only the two Light battalions -and the Hussars marched with Moore, and re-embarked for England after -his disastrous retreat. The four Line battalions remained in Portugal, -as did two German batteries, and made part of Wellesley’s original -army of 1809. They were joined in the spring of that year by the 1st -Hussars, who (as has been already mentioned) were considered the most -efficient light cavalry regiment in Portugal, and were long the chosen -comrades of Craufurd’s Light Division. - -[Sidenote: Recruiting the K.G.L.] - -In the spring of 1811 the K.G.L. contingent in Portugal was increased -by the 2nd Hussars and the two Light Battalions, who returned about two -years after their departure in the company of Moore. In the winter of -1811–12 the two heavy dragoon regiments joined Wellington’s army. Thus -in the beginning of 1812 four of the five cavalry regiments, and five -(the 7th Line battalion had gone home) of the ten infantry battalions -were serving in Spain. But at the end of the year the 2nd Hussars were -drafted back to England, owing to depleted numbers. - -It had now become impossible to keep the ranks of the Legion filled -with the genuine Hanoverians who had been its original nucleus. -Communication with the electorate was completely cut off, and German -recruits of any kind had to be accepted. Many of them were volunteers -from the English prison camps, where thousands of Napoleon’s German -troops were lying. Of these only a fraction were Hanoverians born. -The large majority could not, of course, share in the loyalty and -enthusiasm of the original legionaries, being subjects of all manner of -sovereigns in the Rheinbund, who had marched at Napoleon’s orders. The -quality of men was much worse, and many enlisted only to escape from -prison life, and readily deserted when they reached the front, having -no interest in the cause for which they were fighting. From 1811 onward -desertion, not at all usual in the early years of the Legion, became -very common, and plunder and misconduct (previously very rare) were -also rife. Matters became still worse when, later in the war, German -recruits of any sort became so hard to obtain that Poles, Illyrians, -and miscellaneous foreigners of any sort[235] were drafted out to -fill the shrinking ranks. But the splendid Hanoverian officers still -continued to get good service out of a rank and file that was no longer -so homogeneous or loyal as it had been when the war began, and the -regiments of the German Legion, the cavalry in especial, continued to -be among Wellington’s most trusted troops. The charge of Bock’s Heavy -Dragoons at Garcia Hernandez, on the day after Salamanca, was, as has -been already stated, considered by Foy to have been the most brilliant -and successful cavalry attack made in the whole Peninsular War. After -the peace of 1814 all the “mongrels” were discharged, and the officers -and native-born Hanoverian rank and file became the nucleus on which -the new Royal Army of Hanover was built up. The fact that the aliens -had been discharged in 1814 was the cause of all the K.G.L. battalions -appearing at Waterloo in the following year with very small effectives, -in no case reaching 500 of all ranks. - -Another foreign corps which served under Wellington from the end of -1810 till 1814 had an origin and a history much resembling that of the -German Legion. This was the Brunswick Oels Jägers, whose history starts -from 1809. The hard-fighting Frederick William, Duke of Brunswick, the -nephew of George III., had made a gallant diversion in Northern Germany -during the Wagram Campaign. At the head of a small body of adventurers, -he had thrown himself into the middle of Jerome Bonaparte’s Kingdom -of Westphalia, and had stirred up an insurrection there, particularly -in his own old hereditary states. He was joined by several thousands -of patriotic volunteers, and inflicted a series of small defeats on -the Westphalians. But surrounded in the end by overwhelming numbers -of enemies, he cut his way to the sea, and embarked the remnants of -his followers aboard English ships at Brake on the Frisian coast. -The British Government at once offered to take the refugees into its -service, and from them organized the Brunswick Oels Jäger and Hussar -regiments, whose black uniform reproduced that of the duke’s old -troops. - -[Sidenote: The Brunswick Oels Jägers] - -The kernel of this corps was originally excellent—the officers were -North-Germans, largely Prussians, who had risked their lives by joining -an insurrection contrary to the orders of their sovereign, and could -never return to their homes: while the rank and file had been patriotic -volunteers. But, like the German Legion, the Brunswick regiment could -find no more recruits of this sort when it had left Germany, and soon -had to depend for the continuance of its existence on the men in the -English prison camps, who could be induced to buy a release from -confinement by enlisting in the British service. It is clear that the -German Legion got the best of these turncoats, and that the worst fell -to the lot of the Brunswick corps. Not only Germans but Poles, Swiss, -Danes, Dutch, and Croats were drafted into it. They were a motley crew, -much given to desertion—on several occasions large parties went off -together. One great court-martial in 1811 sat on ten Brunswick Oels -deserters in a body, and ordered four to be shot and the rest to be -flogged. Such men had all the vices of the mercenary, though in time of -battle they displayed many of the virtues. Their officers had a hard -task to keep them together, and they could never be trusted at the -outposts. But the regiment was full of good shots and bold adventurers, -and furnished several of the detached rifle companies with which -Wellington strengthened the light infantry of his brigades. - -There was, however, one foreign regiment which was even more tiresome -to manage than the Black Brunswickers. This was the _Chasseurs -Britanniques_, a corps formed early in the Revolutionary War from -French royalists, and taken into the British Service in 1801. It was -recruited entirely from deserters of all sorts when it came out to -Portugal in the spring of 1811. At absconding it was far worse than -the Brunswickers—the latter were raised from many races, but at least -they were not born Frenchmen as were the most important section of the -Chasseurs. A glance down the names of the rank and file of the corps -seems to show that after Frenchmen the next most important section -were Italians, and that there were a few Poles and some Swiss, the -latter supplying the men with Teutonic names. It seems to have been -the working rule with the officers who accepted volunteers from the -prison-camps to draft French and Italians into the Chasseurs, while -Germans of all sorts went into the Legion or the Brunswick Corps, -and Swiss partly into the Chasseurs, partly into Watteville’s old -Swiss regiment: Poles and Croats went anywhere. Now a German prisoner -who volunteered into the British service might do so from patriotic -motives, and make an excellent soldier. A Swiss or an Italian or an -Illyrian could not be very heavily blamed for desertion—he had been -conscribed, and sent to fight for Napoleon, in a quarrel that was -not his own. But the French deserter was no longer an old royalist, -like the _emigré_ soldiers of 1794, but one of two things. Either he -was a man who enlisted in the Chasseurs simply to get a chance of -deserting back to his own friends, or else he was a _mauvais sujet_, -a man without patriotic feeling or morality, who was ready to fight -against his own countrymen for pay or plunder. Both classes were amply -represented: the former fled back to the French ranks when they could, -often taking valuable information with them. The latter were the worst -class of mercenaries, since they had no inspiring cause to keep them -true to their colours, while individually they were for the most part -bad characters who had been the curse of their regiments while in the -French service. - -[Sidenote: The Chasseurs Britanniques] - -The unenviable task of keeping together this body of deserters and -adventurers fell to a body of officers who were almost without -exception furious French royalists, the second generation of the -_emigrés_. They looked upon the war with Bonaparte as a family feud, -in which they fought under any colours (many of their kin were in the -Russian or the Austrian, or the Spanish service) in order to avenge the -death of Louis XVI., the atrocities of the Terror, or the Massacres -of Quiberon. With old loyalty to the Bourbons, and personal hatred -for the new French _régime_ as their inspiration, they were fierce -and desperate fighters. They kept the miscellaneous horde committed -to their charge under an iron discipline, and used the lash freely. -All that their personal courage could accomplish was done, to make -the Chasseurs an efficient fighting force. But they could not stop -desertion, nor frequent misconduct. The most astonishing court-martial -in the war was that held on October 5, 1812, upon no less than 18 -Chasseurs who had deserted in a body, two corporals and 16 men, of whom -all but two bore Italian names.[236] This was only the largest case of -a constant series of defections. The regiment melted away whenever it -came near the French lines, and Wellington had a standing order that it -must never be trusted with the outposts. Yet as a fighting body it had -no bad record—as witness Fuentes de Oñoro and many other fields. This -was the work of the zealous service of its officers—and was indeed a -wonderful _tour de force_. The material with which they had to work was -detestable. - -These were the only foreign corps, strictly speaking, in Wellington’s -army, but there were two more units which had a large, indeed a -preponderating, German element in them, though they were numbered -in the British line. These were the 5/60th, the rifle battalion of -the “Royal Americans,” and the 97th, a single-battalion corps which -started its existence as Stuart’s “Minorca Regiment,” but got a place -in the British line in 1804 as the “Queen’s Germans.” Neither of these -battalions were purely German either in officers or men: of the 5/60th -the disembarkation roll on its original landing in Portugal shows -eighteen officers with German and ten with British names.[237] The -colonel, De Rottenbourg, was a foreigner, but the second in command, -Davy, an Englishman. The British element was not proportionally so -strong in the rank and file at the commencement of the war, but was -apparently increasing as it went on. English and Irish recruits were -drafted in, in order that such a fine corps might not be spoilt with -the bad class of German recruit such as was alone procurable in 1812 or -1813. When the corps returned from the Peninsula in 1814 it had only -nine officers with German names and twelve with British, and I fancy -the balance in the rank and file between the nationalities had changed -in the same way. When amalgamated with the 1/60th, after the end of the -war it had certainly 400 British to something under 300 Germans in its -ranks. - -This was a most distinguished corps: the green-coated rifle companies -which it supplied to many brigades of the Peninsular Army were -universally praised for their cool courage and admirable marksmanship. -The battalion had very few deserters save for one period in 1808–9, -when it had received a batch of recruits from Junot’s Army of Portugal, -who proved unsatisfactory. It would be an absolute insult to the 5/60th -to class them with the Brunswickers or the Chasseurs Britanniques. - -The 97th being a single-battalion corps, with nothing to maintain -it but a depôt which could only collect German recruits in the same -fashion as the K.G.L., wasted down to a very small remnant after two -years of war, and was sent back to England in 1811, with a handsome -epitaph of praise by Wellington. It never got to the front again, -remained at home on a very weak establishment, and was disbanded at the -end of the war. Like the 5/60th it was not wholly German; among the -officers we find individuals with British names like Carter, Biscoe, -Wilson, Lyon. Its colonel and one of its two majors were English, and -there was a proportion of non-Germans among its rank and file. Its -Peninsular record if short was distinguished. - -[Sidenote: The Portuguese Army in 1809] - -It remains to speak about the Portuguese, who formed about two-fifths -of Wellington’s fighting force. We have already had occasion to -speak of the way in which they were distributed among the British -troops, when dealing with the character of Beresford,[238] and the -composition of the Peninsular divisions.[239] But the inner mechanism -of the Portuguese army remains to be detailed. It consisted in 1809 of -twenty-four regiments of infantry of the line, each of two battalions, -save the 21st which had been cut up at Soult’s storm of Oporto in -March, and only mustered one.[240] There were also six light infantry -battalions of caçadores, all raised in 1808–9, and twelve weak -regiments of horse. The artillery, divided into four local regiments -of unequal strength (those of Lisbon, Oporto, Elvas, and Algarve), -supplied nine or ten field batteries, and a number of garrison -companies which manned the guns of Elvas, Almeida, Abrantes, Peniche, -and many other minor fortresses. There was in addition an abnormal -corps, the Loyal Lusitanian Legion, raised by Sir Robert Wilson at -Oporto in 1808, which furnished three battalions of light infantry, a -squadron of horse and an incomplete battery. This legion, which had -done very good service in 1809–10, was absorbed into the regular army -in 1811, its three battalions becoming the 7th, 8th, and 9th caçadores. -At the same time Wellington ordered the raising of three new light -battalions bearing the numbers 10, 11, and 12. - -The establishment of a Portuguese two-battalion line regiment was -nominally 1540 men, that of a caçador battalion 770 men: they were -each divided into six strong companies. The cavalry regiments, with a -nominal effective of 590 men, seldom showed 300 apiece in the field. -The infantry corps, with the conscription to keep their ranks full, -could from 1809 onward generally take the field with over 1200 of all -ranks, not including men in hospital or detached, and very seldom -shrank as low as 1000. The caçador battalions were generally somewhat -weaker in proportion to their nominal effective, rarely showing more -than 500 men in line. - -The organization of the Portuguese Army was made on a strictly local -basis, each of the twenty-four line regiments having its proper -recruiting district. Two corps were furnished by the province of -Algarve, five by the Alemtejo, four by Lisbon city and its surrounding -district, three by the rest of Portuguese Estremadura, four by -the Beira, four by Oporto and the Entre-Douro-e-Minho, and two by -Tras-os-Montes.[241] Some of the recruiting-districts being less -populous than others, had a greater difficulty in keeping up their -territorial regiments. This was especially the case with the five corps -of the Alemtejo, where the waste bears a greater proportion to the -inhabited land than in other provinces of Portugal. - -The caçador battalions were mainly raised in the better peopled north, -which supplied not only the three (Nos. 7, 8, 9), formed from the -Lusitanian Legion (all raised in and about Oporto), but also numbers 3, -4, 6, and after 1811 the additional numbers 10, 11, 12. The southern -provinces only provided numbers 1, 2, 5. These brown and dark green -battalions, whose sombre colours contrasted strongly with the bright -blue and white of the Portuguese line,[242] supplied, along with the -green British riflemen, the main skirmishing line of Wellington’s army. -Eight of the twelve were raised and commanded by British officers, only -the remaining four by Portuguese colonels. - -Portugal is not a country abounding in horses, and of the twelve -dragoon regiments of which its cavalry consisted, three (Nos. 2, 3, -12) were never put into the field at all, but utilized as dismounted -troops in garrison duty. Of the other nine corps several were mere -fragments, and none ever took anything like its establishment of 500 -sabres to the front. Three hundred was as much as was usually shown: -in the 1811 campaign the two regiments which Wellington used in the -Fuentes de Oñoro campaign had not 450 mounted men between them. - -[Sidenote: Beresford’s Work] - -Beresford’s conversion of the disorganized and depleted army of which -he took the command in 1809 into a serviceable and well-disciplined -force was a remarkable achievement. He found it in a chaotic -state—Junot had disbanded the whole, save a few battalions which he -sent to France to serve Napoleon. The regiments had collected again -as best they could, but the cadres were incomplete, and the corps of -officers left much to be desired. The Portuguese army before 1808 had -all the typical faults of an army of the _ancien régime_ which had -rusted in a long period of peace. It was full of old or incapable -officers put into place by court intrigues or family influence. -Promotion was irregular and perfectly arbitrary; the lower commissioned -ranks of the regiments were choked with officers whose want of -education and military knowledge made them unfit for higher posts. They -had often grown grey as lieutenants, and were perfectly useless in a -crisis. The pay was very low, and the temptation to make up for the -want of it by petty jobbing and embezzlement too strong. - -When Beresford took command, in the early spring of 1809, he had found -about 30,000 regular troops in arms on an establishment which ought -to have shown nearly 60,000. The deficiency in mere numbers could be -remedied by a stringent use of the conscription: but the deficiencies -of organization could not. Beresford complained that “Long habits of -disregard of duty, and consequent laziness, made it not only difficult -but almost impossible to induce many senior officers to enter into any -regular and continued attention to the duties of their situations, and -neither reward nor punishment would induce them to bear up against the -fatigue.”[243] In the lower ranks there was a good deal of zeal, there -being great numbers of young officers from the higher classes, who had -just accepted commissions from patriotic motives; but there was also a -heavy dead-weight of old and slack officers, and an appalling want of -professional knowledge. - -Beresford made it a condition of accepting his post that he should -be allowed a free hand to retain, dismiss, or promote, and should -be permitted to introduce a certain amount of British officers into -the army. The Regency granted his request, of necessity and not with -enthusiasm. He then proceeded to use his permission with great energy. -A vast number of old officers, both in the higher and lower ranks, -were put on half pay: only a minority of the colonels and generals -were retained on active service. All the regiments which had been -cursed with notoriously inefficient commanders were placed in charge -of British officers, of whom four or five were drafted into every -unit. Beresford’s system was that “since national feeling required -management,” and “he must humour and satisfy the pride of the nation,” -a sufficient number of the higher places must be left to natives, but -each must have British officers either immediately over or immediately -under him. Where a Portuguese general commanded a brigade, it was -managed that the colonels of his two regiments should both be English. -Where there was a Portuguese colonel, his senior major was English; -where an English colonel, his senior major was Portuguese. In addition -there were two, three, or four British captains in each regiment, but -hardly any subalterns. For, to encourage good officers to volunteer -into the Portuguese service, it was provided that every one doing so -should receive a step in promotion, lieutenants becoming captains, and -captains majors. This system seems to have worked well, though friction -was bound to occur, since the blow to Portuguese national pride, when -so many high posts were given to foreigners, was a heavy one. - -[Sidenote: The Portuguese Officers] - -Yet according to those who had the working of the newly organized army -in their hands, the effect was very satisfactory. “The Portuguese -captains are piqued into activity and attention, when they see their -companies excelled in efficiency by those under English, and do from -emulation what a sense of duty would never, perhaps, bring them to. -There are a variety of oblique means and by-paths by which the parts -of a Portuguese corps are constantly, and almost insensibly, tending -to return to their old habits, to which they are so much attached. To -nip this tendency, from time to time, in the bud, it is necessary to be -aware of it: without the constant surveillance of English subordinate -officers (who ever mingling with the mass of the men cannot but be -aware of what is going on) the commanding officer can rarely be warned -in time.”[244] D’Urban, the author of this memorandum, adds that one -of his great difficulties was to secure that the junior officers of -the old noble families were kept up to their work. “Even supposing -a sufficient energy of character in a native officer, he does not, -and will not, unless he be a _fidalgo_ himself, exercise coercive or -strong measures to oblige one of that class to do his duty. He is aware -that by doing so he will make a powerful enemy, and all the habits of -thought in which he has been educated inspire him with such a dread of -this, that no sense of duty will urge him to encounter it. Whenever -a regiment is commanded by a non-_fidalgo_ it never fails to suffer -extremely: the noblemen are permitted to do as they please, and set a -very bad example.” The only remedy was to see that any regiment where -the _fidalgos_ were numerous had an English colonel. - -Such were the difficulties under which Beresford and the body of picked -British officers whom he selected as his subordinates built up the -army, which by 1811 was fit to take its place in battle line along with -its allies, and in 1812–14 did some of the most brilliant service of -the Peninsular War. Some of the exploits of the Portuguese brigades -hardly obtain in Napier’s history the prominence that is their due. -While he acknowledges the good service of the Light Division caçadores -at Bussaco and elsewhere, there is scarcely praise enough given to -Harvey’s brigade at Albuera, who received and repulsed _in line_ the -charge of Latour-Maubourg’s dragoons, a feat of which any British -troops would have been proud. And the desperate resistance for many -hours of Ashworth’s Portuguese at St. Pierre near Bayonne is hardly -noticed with sufficient gratitude—forming the centre of Hill’s thin -line, pressed upon by overwhelming numbers, and with both flanks turned -from time to time, they fought out a whole long morning of battle, and -never gave way an inch, though their line was reduced to a thin chain -of skirmishers scattered along a hedge and a coppice. The advance of -the 13th and 24th Portuguese at the storm of St. Sebastian, across a -ford 200 yards wide and waist-deep, swept by artillery fire from end -to end, does however receive from Napier its due meed of admiration. -This was a great achievement—every wounded man was doomed to drowning: -on the other side was the blazing breach, where the British assault -had come to a dead stop after dreadful slaughter, but the Portuguese -regiments won their way over the deadly water, and took their share in -the final assault with unflinching courage. - -On the whole, the caçador battalions had the finest record in the -Portuguese Army, the cavalry the least satisfactory. Some good work -is recorded of them, _e.g._ the charge of Madden’s squadrons saved -the whole of La Romana’s army at the combat of Fuente del Maestre in -1810, and that of D’Urban’s brigade gave efficient help to Pakenham’s -great flank attack at Salamanca in 1812. But there were some “untoward -incidents,” such as the general bolt at the battle of the Gebora, and -the panic at the combat of Majadahonda, just before Wellington’s entry -into Madrid. Of the last D’Urban writes,[245] “My poor fellows are -still a most daily and uncertain sort of fighting people. At Salamanca -they followed me into the enemy’s ranks like British dragoons; -yesterday they were so far from doing their duty that in the first -charge they just went far enough to land me in the enemy’s ranks. In -the second, which (having got them rallied) I rashly attempted, I could -not get them within 20 yards of the enemy—they left me alone, and -vanished before the French helmets like leaves before the autumn wind. -They require a little incentive of shouts, and the inspiring cheers -of a British line advancing near them. I am afraid they will never be -quite _safe_ by themselves, or in silence.” These are bitter words, but -the record of Majadahonda is not a creditable one. - -[Sidenote: The Portuguese Militia] - -Of the Portuguese militia and the irregular levies of the Ordenança -it is not necessary to speak here at length. They formed part of -Wellington’s tools for carrying on the war, but not of his army. For, -excepting in the Lines of Torres Vedras, he never put the militia -side by side with the regulars, but always left them out in the open -country, to watch frontiers or harass French lines of communication. -They were under strict orders not to fight—orders which enterprising -officers like Silveira and Trant sometimes disobeyed, to their own -sorrow. Their duty was to screen the countryside against small French -detachments, to make the movement of the enemy save in large bodies -impossible, to capture convoys, or to cut off stragglers. Their most -brilliant exploit was the capture of Masséna’s hospitals at Coimbra in -1810. More could not be expected from levies only intermittently under -arms, not furnished with proper uniforms, and officered by civilians, -or by the inefficients weeded out of the regular army. They were a -valuable asset in Wellington’s hands, but not a real fighting force. -Even far on in the war, so late as 1812, whole brigades of them broke -up in panic in face of a very small force of cavalry—as at the unhappy -combat of Guarda, where Trant and Wilson tried to do too much with -these amateurs. - -As to the ordenança or _levée en masse_, it had not even the -organization of the militia, and was largely armed with pikes for want -of muskets. Its only duty was to infest the countryside and prevent -the enemy from foraging. The French shot them as “brigands” whenever -caught; it was their natural practice to retaliate by making away with -all stragglers and marauders who fell into their hands. Wellington -offered a bounty for prisoners, but it was not very often asked for, or -paid. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -DISCIPLINE AND COURT-MARTIALS - - -In the chapters that dealt with the officers and the men of the -Peninsular Army, we have had occasion to speak of the percentage of -undesirables that were to be found in every rank, and of their special -weaknesses and crimes. It is necessary to explain the way in which the -British military code of the day dealt with them. - -For the officers there was a long gradation of punishments, ranging -down from a simple reprimand to discharge from the service with -ignominy. For the non-commissioned officers reduction to the ranks -was the most usual chastisement inflicted; but in cases of a -particularly disgraceful sort, the lash was not infrequently allotted -as an additional penalty. For the rank and file flogging was the -universal panacea; the amount of strokes might range up from a -minimum twenty-five strokes—which was a mere nothing to the habitual -offender, but a serious thing for the good soldier who lost much of -his _morale_ when once he had “gone to the halberds,” even for such a -light punishment. The maximum, a very unusual one, was 1200 strokes, -an amount calculated to kill many men, and to permanently disable many -more. But this awful tale of lashes was not very frequently awarded, -being reserved for bad cases of desertion to the enemy, robbery with -violence, or striking an officer, all of them offences which might have -had death as their punishment. As far as I can count, 1200 lashes were -only awarded nine or ten times by general court-martial during the -whole six years of the war. The hardly less severe sentence of 1000 -lashes was given more frequently—over 50 cases may be reckoned up—the -offences were the same as those which earned the still heavier maximum -amount. During the latter years of the war, from 1811 onward, two -additional forms of punishment for very serious crimes were invented. -The first, mainly reserved for deserters who had not gone over to the -enemy, but had simply left the colours and hidden themselves in the -Peninsula, was long service in a colonial corps, such as the African or -the New South Wales Regiment. The other, a much more severe sentence, -was that of penal servitude, either for a term of years (seven was the -usual period), or for life. The penal settlement to which the convict -was sent is generally stated, and is almost invariably New South Wales. -This sentence was generally awarded for cases of repeated desertion -(not to the enemy) and habitual theft without violence. The moment that -violence was added to robbery, the offender came within a near distance -of the gallows or of the much-dreaded 1000 lashes—which often had the -same meaning in the end. - -[Sidenote: Cashiering of Officers] - -It may be interesting to give some account of the various causes for -which an officer might incur the heaviest penalty that could be laid -on him—to be cashiered. This sentence was awarded some thirty times -during the war. Twice only was it the reward of shirking or cowardice. -In three or four cases it was inflicted for swindling merchants; in -as many more for embezzling public money or stores. Five or six were -instances of insulting or openly disobeying a commanding officer. Three -or four cashierings were the direct result of drink—the offender having -been found intoxicated and incapable while on duty in a responsible -position. The most repulsive case of the whole list was one where -drunkenness was the indirect, but not the actual, cause of disgrace. -Three young officers, at the break up of a debauch, found the corpse -of a priest lying in state in a room in the quarters where two of -them were lodged. They mishandled it, and cast it forth, stripping -off the vestments, and breaking the candles, etc., with which it was -laid out.[246] This disgusting freak, apparently caused by drunken -resentment at finding a corpse in close proximity to their bedroom, -drew down a commentary from Wellington as to the noxious effects of -drink—which not only makes men incapable of performing their duty, but -renders them “unaware of the nature or effect of their actions.” - -The remaining cases of cashiering were for such offences as public -and disgraceful brawling, violently resisting arrest, and flagrant -immorality.[247] There is just one case of dismissal from the service -for tyranny—that of a colonel who habitually bullied his officers and -inflicted arbitrary and illegal punishments on his men.[248] Of this I -shall have to say more in its place. - -All the thirty cashierings cited above are those of combatant -officers. There are about an equal number of cases in which persons -employed under the civil departments of the army were dismissed the -service—commissaries, purveyors, surgeons, hospital mates, etc. In the -commissariat department (as might have been foreseen) embezzlement -was the snare to unscrupulous men, often far from the eye of their -superior—it was too easy to issue false vouchers as to the number of -men or horses rationed, or to make corrupt agreements with contractors -or local authorities, certifying that a larger amount of food or forage -had been supplied than had really been given in. Selling public mules -or horses, and returning them as dead, was another profitable fraud. -Two non-combatant employés of the army (a paymaster and a conductor of -stores) were “broken” for absconding from the army during the battle of -Talavera, and spreading false reports of disaster in the rear. - -The medical staff, not nearly such frequent offenders as the -commissariat staff, are occasionally dismissed the service for brawling -and drunkenness, which last inevitably resulted in the neglect of the -wounded on the march or in hospital. - -After cashiering, the next most serious punishment inflicted on an -officer was suspension from pay and rank for a term of months, six and -three were the usual periods named. This might be inflicted for any -one of a great variety of offences. By far the most frequent fault was -neglect of details of duty, such as quitting the regiment or detachment -for many hours without leave, allowing a convoy or a draft to straggle, -permitting the rank and file to pull down cottages for firewood, or to -waste crops, or to fell fruit trees. Sleeping away from the company, in -a rather distant house or village, was another frequent misdemeanour. -We may place second in the category of offences the one that may be -called quarrelling with native authorities. Owing to high-handed -action on the one side, and provocative sulkiness on the other, these -wrangles were very common. Officers in charge of detachments fell -out with a _juiz de fora_ or a _corregidor_, or the governor of some -petty garrison, about billets or payments due, and ended by insulting, -occasionally by assaulting, him. This generally cost the offender six -months’ suspension, for Wellington was resolved that the officers of -his army must not override lawful local authority, and sometimes, in -his comments on a court-martial sentence, asks what would be thought of -a lieutenant who should treat in such a fashion the mayor of an English -borough, or the commandant of an English fort. - -[Sidenote: Wellington and Petty Quarrels] - -The third list of offences which were usually visited with shorter -or longer “suspension” may be put together under the general head of -relations of officers to each other. This includes equally oppressive -or insulting acts of superiors to inferiors, and insubordinate conduct -of inferiors to superiors. The latter was far the more common failing, -if the statistics of court-martials may be trusted. But no doubt -allowance must be made for many cases in which a bullied subaltern -preferred to hold his tongue, rather than to appeal against the -acts or language of his captain or colonel—the failure of his case -would leave him in a very dangerous and unpleasant position for the -future. Intemperate language, or “improper” letters from inferiors to -superiors, are a not uncommon cause of court-martials. Even colonels -occasionally wrote or spoke in insubordinate terms to generals.[249] -But “answering back” on the part of subalterns to captains or majors -was of course far more frequent. Wellington grew, on occasion, -exceedingly wrath at reading the reports of court-martials on petty -cases of this kind. We may give a typical comment. - -“I cannot but consider the transaction which has been the subject -of this court-martial as simply a private quarrel, it has as little -connection with the public service or the discipline and subordination -of the army, as any that has ever come under my notice. It is certainly -true that the private quarrels of officers may be proper subjects for -the investigation of a court-martial. But the complainant, in order -to obtain a decision in his favour, must come with a fair case. He -must not himself have been guilty of any breach of the general order -of the army, or of discipline. His authority as a superior must not -have been exerted over his inferior (of whom he complains) in order -to enjoy the advantage of his own improper conduct. Above all, he -must have refrained from the use of abusive or improper language and -gestures.”[250] - -Another comment is— - -“The Commander of the Forces cannot but feel that both his time, and -that of the officers composing court-martials, is occupied very little -to the advantage of the public service, in considering the unbecoming -and ungentlemanlike behaviour of officers to each other.”[251] - -The mildest form of punishment for officers was the reprimand, which -varied much in shape. It might amount to no more than the publication -of the fact that an officer _was_ reprimanded in the General Orders, -without any further publicity. Or, on the other hand, the sentence of -the court-martial might be directed to be read out to his regiment, -or even to his division, in the most public fashion. And to the -sentence there might be added a caustic and scathing postscript by the -Commander-in-Chief. Take, for example, “This person may think himself -very fortunate that the sentence of the court has been so lenient. A -different view of the evidence on the charge would have rendered his -dismissal from the service necessary under the Articles of War. The -Commander of the Forces hopes that he will take warning by what has -occurred, and will in future conduct himself on all occasions as a -gentleman should. This reprimand is to be read to him by the commanding -officer at the station where he may happen to be, in presence of the -officers and troops, paraded for that purpose.”[252] - -Reprimands were generally the punishment for the smaller derelictions -of duty, such as failing to report arrival at a station, striking a -soldier who was insolent instead of arresting him, brawling with a -civilian or a Portuguese militia officer, or boisterous and unseemly -conduct in the streets when off duty. - -There was no court-martial on an officer for desertion during the -whole war, and only one case of the sort in the commissioned ranks. -This was that of an Irish lieutenant who passed over to the French -outposts while Masséna’s army was lying behind the lines of Santarem -in February, 1811. He was discovered to be insane or suffering from -delusions, being captured during Masséna’s retreat, while wandering in -an objectless way in the rear of the enemy’s march: he was sent to a -mad-house.[253] - -[Sidenote: Executions for Desertion] - -As to the punishments of the soldier, the heaviest was death, either -by the bullets of a firing party, or by the Provost Marshal’s gallows. -Shooting was almost exclusively reserved for the military offence of -desertion to the enemy; but it was two or three times awarded for -mutiny and striking an officer or sergeant, and once only (as far as -I can make out) to a non-commissioned officer for robbing valuable -stores which he had been set to guard.[254] It would have been more -usual to hang for the latter offence, and I do not know why this -particular case was punished with shooting. There seem to have been -78 men shot in all during the war, of whom 52 were British, and 26 -foreigners. The disproportion, of course, is enormous, as there were -some fifty or sixty British battalions in the army, and only ten -foreign battalions.[255] Among the last the main body of deserters -were supplied by two battalions only, the _Chasseurs Britanniques_ and -Brunswick Oels Jägers, both of which corps were largely recruited, as -has been already explained, from Germans, Italians, Poles, and other -aliens from prison camps at home. They had volunteered into the British -service in order to get the chance of escape, and took it at the first -opportunity. The deserters from the King’s German Legion were in -proportion very few. During the last two years of the war many of these -foreign deserters were not shot, but given life service in a colonial -corps, in places such as New South Wales, from which they could not -desert again. Some others got off with a heavy sentence of flogging. - -[Sidenote: The Punishment of Hanging] - -Hanging was the penalty for practically all capital offences except -desertion to the enemy. It was not so frequent as shooting. The records -of the General Court-Martials show a total of about forty executions, -and a few more were apparently carried out by the Provost Marshal on -criminals caught _flagrante delicto_ murdering or wounding peasants. - -The punishment of hanging covered many offences. It is rather -surprising to find that two men who killed their officers (one in the -Buffs, one in the 42nd) were hanged rather than shot—but apparently -each case was ruled to be one of private spite, and not of mutiny, and -was treated as simple murder. There were six or eight instances of men -who slew a comrade in the ranks, by deliberate assassination, not in -a quarrel, and were hanged for it. It may be noted, however, that one -private who stabbed an unfaithful wife, at the moment of detection, -was found guilty of manslaughter and given one year’s imprisonment -only. Far the most frequent cause for the use of the gallows, however, -was the killing or wounding of peasants who attempted to defend their -houses or cattle from plunder. This was a crime for which Wellington -seldom if ever gave pardon; he was as inflexible on the point in the -hostile land of France as in the friendly Spain and Portugal. It did -not matter whether the peasants were killed or not—the use of musket or -bayonet against them in pursuit of plunder was the thing that mattered. -There are certainly some most atrocious cases in the list, where a -whole family had been murdered or left for dead. But in others, where -the violence had been no more than a blow with a butt-end, or a bayonet -prod in the shoulder, the offenders seem to have been unlucky in not -getting off with a sound flogging. But in Wellington’s code petty -stealing without violence was punished with the lash, but armed robbery -with death. - -In an age when in England theft to the value of over forty shillings -was still punishable in theory with death, (though the penalty was -more often evaded than not), it is not surprising to find that some -of the cases of hanging in Wellington’s army were for mere stealing. -But it was always for stealing on a large scale, or under aggravated -circumstances. Mere petty larceny led to the lash only. The most -notable achievement in this line was that of two foreigners who -succeeded in breaking open the commissary-general’s chest and stole no -less than £2000 from it; others were those of a soldier-servant who -absconded with his master’s mule, baggage, and purse; of a sentry over -the tent of a brigadier, who took the opportunity of making off with -the general’s silver camp-equipage and plate; and of a man who being -on treasure-escort, succeeded in opening a barrel and stealing some -hundreds of dollars from it. In two or three instances large sums of -£40 or £60, burglariously stolen from the house or tent of an officer, -a commissary, or a sutler, brought men to the gallows. Finally, there -was one case of hanging for the crime of sodomy—which was still a -capital offence in English law for more than thirty years after the -Peninsular War ended. - -There are one or two instances on record of rather surprising leniency -in the sentences inflicted by court-martial for crimes which in most -other cases entailed the death-penalty—_e.g._ plundering and wounding -a peasant was on two occasions in 1814 punished with 900 and 1000 -lashes only, and three artillerymen, who stole the watch, purse, and -papers of the Spanish General Giron, got off with transportation to New -South Wales, instead of suffering the hanging that was usual for such -a serious offence. A dragoon convicted of rape in 1814 was lucky also -in receiving no more than a heavy flogging. No doubt there was in such -light sentences some consideration of previous good conduct and steady -service on the part of the offenders. - -We have already spoken of the penalties which came next after death -in the list—the terrible 1200 and 1000 lash awards, and of the crimes -which usually earned them. Much more frequent were the 700, 500, and -300 lash sentences, which are to be numbered by the hundred, and -were awarded, as a rule, for casual theft without violence, making -away with necessaries (_e.g._ selling blankets or ball-cartridge to -peasants), or “embargoing” carts and oxen, _i.e._ pressing transport -from the countryside without leave, to carry baggage or knapsacks -when a small party, without an officer in charge, was on the move. -Purloining shoes or food from a convoy was another frequent offence, -worth about 500 lashes to the detected culprit. The bee-hive stealers -of the retreat from Talavera got 700 lashes each—a heavy sentence for -such a crime. The tale concerning them is too good to be omitted. - -After the general order against plundering from the peasantry was -issued at Jaraicejo to the half-starved army, Sir Arthur Wellesley, in -a cross-country ride, saw a man of the Connaught Rangers posting along -as fast as his legs could carry him, with his great coat wrapped around -his head, and a bee-hive balanced upon it, with a swarm of furious bees -buzzing around. Furious at such a flagrant breach of orders issued -only on the previous day, the Commander-in-Chief called out to him, -“Hullo, sir, where did you get that bee-hive?” Pat could not see his -interlocutor, having completely shrouded his face to keep off stings: -he did not pay sufficient heed to the _tone_ of the question, which -should have warned him, and answered in a fine Milesian brogue, “Just -over the hill there, and, by Jasus, if ye don’t make haste they’ll be -all gone.”[256] The blind good-nature of the reply stayed the General’s -anger; he let Pat pass, and told the story at dinner with a laugh. But -the order was no joke to the men of the 53rd caught at the same game a -few days after.[257] They got the nickname of the “honeysuckers” along -with their flogging. - -[Sidenote: Charles Reilly’s Excuse] - -There is another tale of “embargoing” belonging to the regimental -history of the Connaught Rangers, which may serve as a pendant to that -about the bee-hives. - -Early in 1812 a commissary had pressed country carts to go to the -Douro, to bring back pipes of wine for the troops. On such occasions, -with a hilly country and very tedious work, the men would often -contrive, in spite of the vigilance of the subaltern in charge of the -convoy, to let the driver escape with his bullocks for a pecuniary -consideration. Other carts were then illegally pressed as substitutes. -On one of these occasions a detachment of the 88th regiment was sent to -St. João da Pesqueira for some wine. On their return, the commissary -observed that the two fine white bullocks, which he had sent with one -cart, had been exchanged for two very inferior blacks. He made his -regular complaint, and the two men in charge, a corporal and private, -were brought to a court-martial. On the trial everything was proved, -save the act of receiving money from the driver to allow the white -bullocks to escape; and the president, on summing up the evidence of -the commissary, said to the prisoners, “It is quite useless denying -the fact; it is conclusive. You started from hence with a pair of fine -white bullocks, and you brought back a pair of lean blacks. What can -you have to say to that?” Private Charles Reilly, noways abashed at -this, which every one thought a poser, and ready with any excuse to -save himself from punishment, immediately exclaimed, “Och! plaise your -honour, and wasn’t the white beasts lazy, and didn’t we bate them until -they were black?” The court was not quite satisfied of the truth of -this wonderful metamorphosis, and they were condemned to be punished -(_see_ General Order, Freneda, January 22, 1812)—the corporal to be -broke and get 700 lashes, Reilly to get 500. But in consideration -of the great gallantry displayed by the 88th at the storm of Ciudad -Rodrigo a few days before, the culprits were in the end pardoned. - -All these cases quoted are from records of general court-martials. But -of course the huge majority of floggings were inflicted by regimental -courts, which had jurisdiction over all minor offences, such as -drunkenness, disobedience, and petty breaches of discipline inside the -regiment, but could not give the heavier sentences such as death or -transportation, or the 1000 lashes. - -A glance through the records of court-martials shows that some -battalions gave much more than their proper percentage of criminals, -some much less. Two main causes governed the divergence: the first was -that some corps got more than their share of bad recruits—wild Irish -or town scum; but I fancy that the character of the commanding officer -was even more important than the precise proportion of undesirables -drafted into the ranks. A colonel who could make himself loved as -well as feared could reclaim even very unpromising recruits: a tyrant -or an incapable could turn even well-disposed men into bad soldiers. -It is clear that an excessively easy-going and slack commanding -officer, who winked at irregularities, and discouraged zeal among his -officers, ruined a battalion as surely as the most inhuman martinet. -Among the court-martials of the Peninsular Army there are very few on -colonels—not half a dozen. But one chances to be on a tyrant, and the -other on a _fainéant_, and the evidence seems to show that the latter -got his corps into quite as wretched condition as the former. Though -he received over the regiment, as every one allowed, in excellent -order, in a few months of slack administration and relaxed discipline, -it became not only drunken and slovenly, but so slow on the march, -and at the rendezvous, that the other units in the brigade had always -to be waiting for it, and the brigadier complained that he could not -trust it at the outposts. The officers, gradually coming to despise -their colonel, treated him with contempt, and finally sent in a -round-robin to the Horse Guards, accusing him not only of incapacity -but of cowardice, which last, in the court-martial which followed, was -held to be an unfounded charge.[258] The colonel, as a result of the -investigation, was reprimanded, and put on half-pay; his subordinates, -for grave breach of discipline, were all drafted into other regiments, -and a new body of picked officers was brought together, to reorganize -a corps which was evidently in a thoroughly demoralized condition; the -new-comers got the nickname of the “Elegant Extracts.” - -[Sidenote: A Tyrannical Colonel] - -The reverse-picture, of a regiment ruined by arbitrary strictness and -inhuman exaggeration of punishments, may be studied in the records -of a court-martial held in the spring of 1813.[259] In this case a -commanding officer was found guilty not only of “violent conduct” -and “using intemperate and improper language to his officers, being -in breach of good discipline, and unbecoming the character of an -officer and a gentleman,” but of inflicting corporal punishment at -large without any form of trial, when there were sufficient officers -present to form a proper regimental court-martial; of disobeying the -direction of the Commander-in-Chief by piling up sentences of flogging -passed on men on different occasions, so as to inflict several separate -punishments at the same time, and of releasing men sentenced to -punishment in order to send them into action, and then returning them -to arrest after the battle in order to receive their lashes. This last -was specially in conflict with Wellington’s orders, for he held that -good conduct in action ought to work out a sentence, pronounced but not -inflicted, and that no man convicted of a disgraceful offence ought to -be put into line till he had expiated it by undergoing his punishment. -This officer was dismissed the service, but, in consideration of a good -fighting record in the past, was allowed the value of his commission as -major. - -One diary from the ranks, that of Donaldson of the 94th, gives a very -interesting and complete picture of the fate of a battalion which, by -the invaliding of its colonel, had fallen into the hands of a major who -had the soul of a tyrant. This was a case of an old ranker who knew -too much of soldiers’ tricks, and had a sort of system of espionage -through men who were prepared to act as his toadies and secret -informers. “By this eaves-dropping he knew all the little circumstances -which another commanding officer would have disdained to listen to, -and always made a bad use of his knowledge. When he got command of -the regiment he introduced flogging for every trivial offence, and in -addition invented disgraceful and torturing modes of inflicting the -lash. But this was not enough—he ordered that all defaulters should -have a patch of black and yellow cloth sewed on to the sleeve of their -jacket, and a hole cut in it for every time they were punished. The -effect was soon visible: as good men were liable to be punished for the -slightest fault, the barrier between them and hardened ill-doers was -broken down, and those who had lost respect in their own eyes became -broken-hearted and inefficient soldiers, or else grew reckless and -launched out into real crime. Those who were hardened and unprincipled -before, being brought by the prevalence of punishments nearer to a -level with the better men, seemed to glory in misconduct. In short, -all idea of honour and character was lost, and listless apathy and -bad conduct became the prevailing features of the corps. Reckless -punishment changed the individual’s conduct in two ways—he either -became broken-hearted and useless, or else shameless and hardened.... -The real method of accomplishing the desired end of keeping good -discipline, is for the officers to make themselves acquainted with the -personal character and disposition of each man under their command. -A commanding officer has as good a right to make himself acquainted -with the disposition of his men, as the medical officer with their -constitutions.”[260] When the colonel came back from sick leave he was -shocked to find the men he had been so proud of treated in this manner. -His first act was to cut off the yellow badge; his second to do away -with the frequent punishments. But though the regiment was again on a -fair footing, it was long before the effect of a few months’ ill-usage -disappeared. - -[Sidenote: Good-Conduct Medals] - -What certain misguided officers tried to maintain by a reign of terror, -was sought in other ways by wiser men. It is to the Peninsular War -period that we owe the first of our “Long Service and Good Conduct” -medals—all at first regimental, and not given by the State. Honorary -distinctions for the well-conducted man are both a more humane and a -more rational form of differentiation between good and bad than the -black and yellow badge for every man punished for any cause, which the -detestable major quoted above tried to introduce.[261] In addition -some regiments instituted a division of the men into classes, of which -the best behaved had graduated privileges and benefits. Any man after -a certain period of certified good conduct could be moved up into a -higher class, and the emulation not to be left among the recognized -black-sheep had a very good effect.[262] But even without “classes” or -good-conduct medals, the best could be got out of any regiment by wise -and considerate conduct on the part of the officers. There were corps -where the lash was practically unknown,[263] and others where it had -only been felt by a very small minority of hopeless irreclaimables. - -On the other hand, there is a record or two of punishments in a -unit, inflicted by officers who do not seem to have been regarded by -public opinion as specially tyrannical or heartless, which fills the -reader with astonishment. I have analysed the list of men noted for -chastisement in one battery of artillery, where on an effective of 4 -sergeants and 136 rank and file, three of the former had been “broken,” -and 57 of the latter had received punishments varying downwards -from 500 lashes, in the space of twelve months (July, 1812, to July, -1813), over which the record extends. Though some of the offences were -serious enough, there were others for which the use of the cat appears -altogether misplaced and irrational. As an observer in another corps -wrote “the frequency of flogging at one time had the effect of blinding -the judgment of officers who possessed both feeling and discrimination. -I have known one who shed tears when his favourite horse was injured, -and next day exulted in seeing a poor wretch flogged whose offence was -being late in delivering an order.” - -Floggings were inflicted by the drummers of the regiment, under the -superintendence of the drum-major and the adjutant. The culprit was -bound by his extended arms to two of three sergeants’ halberds, -planted in the ground in a triangle, and lashed together at the top. -The strokes were inflicted at the tap of a drum beaten in slow time. -Each of the wielders of the cat retired after having given twenty-five -lashes. The surgeon was always present, to certify that the man’s -life was not in danger by the further continuance of the punishment, -and the prisoner was taken down the moment that the medical man -declared that he could stand no more. Often this interference saved -a culprit from the end of his punishment, as if the tale was fairly -complete he might never be called upon to undergo the balance. But in -grave cases the prisoner was merely sent into hospital till he was -sufficiently convalescent to endure the payment of the remainder of -his account. Inhuman commanding officers sometimes refused to allow of -any abatement, even when the crime had not been a very serious one, -and insisted that the whole sentence should be executed, even if the -culprit had to go twice into hospital before it was completed. - -[Sidenote: A Memory of a Flogging] - -The autobiographical record of a flogging is rather rare—the diarist in -the ranks was generally a steady sort of fellow, who did not get into -the worst trouble. The following may serve as an example, however. It -is that of William Lawrence of the 1/40th, who in 1809 was a private, -though he won his sergeant’s stripes in 1813. - -“I absented myself without leave from guard for twenty-four hours, and -when I returned I found I was in a fine scrape, for I was immediately -put in the guard-room. It was my first offence, but that did not screen -me much, and I was sentenced to 400 lashes. I found the regiment -assembled all ready to witness my punishment: the place chosen for it -was the square of a convent. As soon as I had been brought up by the -guard, the sentence of the court-martial was read over to me by the -colonel, and I was told to strip, which I did firmly, and without using -the help that was offered me, as I had by that time got hardened to my -lot. I was then lashed to the halberds, and the colonel gave the order -for the drummers to commence, each one having to give me twenty-five -lashes in turn. I bore it very well until I had received 175, when I -got so enraged with the pain that I began pushing the halberds, which -did not stand at all firm (being planted on stones), right across the -square, amid the laughter of the regiment. The colonel, I suppose -thinking then that I had had sufficient, ‘ordered the sulky rascal -down’ in those very words. Perhaps a more true word could not have been -spoken, for indeed I was sulky. I did not give vent to a sound the -whole time, though the blood ran down my trousers from top to bottom. I -was unbound, and a corporal hove my shirt and jacket over my shoulder, -and convoyed me to hospital, presenting as miserable a picture as I -possibly could. - -“Perhaps it was as good a thing for me as could then have happened, as -it prevented me from committing greater crimes, which might at last -have brought me to my ruin. But I think a good deal of that punishment -might have been abandoned, with more credit to those who then ruled -the army.”[264] Yet to be absent twenty-four hours when on guard was -certainly a serious crime. - -Lawrence got off with 175 lashes out of 400 ordered, but was in -hospital nearly three weeks. But 300 or 400 lashes were often inflicted -at a time, and there were men who could take them without a groan. - -“Corporal punishment was going on all the year round,” writes a veteran -officer of the 34th,[265] “men were flogged for the small offences, and -for the graver ones often flogged to death—the thousand lashes were -often awarded by court-martial. I have seen men suffer 500 and even 700 -before being ‘taken down,’ the blood running down into their shoes, -and their backs flayed like raw red-chopped sausages. Some of them -bore this awful punishment without flinching for 200 or 300 lashes, -chewing a musket ball or a bit of leather to prevent or stifle the -cry of agony: after that they did not seem to feel the same torture. -Sometimes the head drooped over to one side, but the lashing still went -on, the surgeon in attendance examining the patient from time to time -to see what more he could bear. I _did_ see, with horror, one prisoner -receive the 700 before he was taken down. This was the sentence of -a court-martial, carried into effect in the presence of the whole -brigade, for an example.[266] We certainly had very bad characters sent -out to fill the gaps in our ranks, sweepings of prisons in England -and Ireland: but such punishments were inhuman, and I made up my mind -that, if ever I had the chance of commanding a regiment, I would act -on another principle. That time _did_ come. I _did_ command a gallant -corps for eleven years, and I abolished the lash.” - -But enough of such horrors. The memory of them is a nightmare. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE ARMY ON THE MARCH - - -It is rare in Peninsular literature to find any general descriptions -of the normal working of the military machine. In personal diaries -or reminiscences the author takes for granted a knowledge of the -daily life of the army, which was so familiar to himself, and only -makes remarks or notes when something abnormal happened. Official -documents, on the other hand, are nearly always concerned with changes -or modifications in routine. They explain and comment upon the reasons -why some particular detail of practice must be abandoned, or be more -strictly enforced, but they do not give descriptive accounts of the -whole system of which that detail is a part. A notion as to the methods -on which Wellington’s army was moved could be got together by the -comparison of a great many of his “General Orders.” But, fortunately, -we are spared much trouble in the compilation of such a sketch by the -fact that, for once, it is possible to lay one’s hand on a careful -detailed narrative of how the army marched. It is to be found in the -anonymous introduction to the second edition of _Selected General -Orders_, which Gurwood published in 1837. It was apparently not by -the editor himself, as he states in his introductory note that it -“was written, as a critique, at the suggestion of the author of a -distinguished periodical review; but being found too long and too -professional for columns usually destined to literature or politics, it -was not inserted.”[267] Since authors do not review their own books, -it is clear that this critique was written by some friend, not by -Gurwood himself. It extends to about thirty-seven pages, of which nine -are devoted to the long and interesting sketch of Wellington’s army on -the march, which is reproduced in the following paragraphs. The author, -writing for the general public, not for the professional public, tells -us precisely what we want to know. - -“The orders for movement from the Commander of the Forces were -communicated by the Quarter Master General to the General Officers -commanding divisions, who detailed them, through their Assistant -Quarter Master Generals, to the Generals of brigades, who gave them out -immediately to the battalions of their brigades, through the Brigade -Majors. The drum, the bugle and the trumpet sounded the preparation -for the march at a certain hour, generally one hour and a half before -daylight, in order that the several battalions might be assembled on -the brigade alarm-posts, so as to be ready to march off from the ground -precisely at daylight. It must be observed that the alarm-post is the -place of assembly in the event of alarm; it was generally, and should -always be, the place of parade. - -“It is singular to refer to these orders to see how a division of 6000 -men, and so on in any proportion, rolled up in their blankets ‘in -the arms of Murphy,’ were all dressed, with blankets rolled, packed, -equipped, squadded, paraded in companies, told off in subdivisions, -sections, and sections of threes, marched by companies to the -regimental alarm-posts, and finally to that of the brigade, formed in -close columns, all by sounds as familiar to the soldier as the clock at -the Horse Guards to a corporal of the Blues. Guns were paraded, baggage -packed and loaded, Commissariat mules with the reserve biscuit, the -Storekeeper with the spare ammunition-bullocks placed under charge, all -assembled with the same precision and order, ready to march off under -the direction of the Assistant Quarter Master General attached to the -division or corps, who had previously assembled the guides, whom he -attached to the column or columns directed to be marched to the points -or towns named in the Quarter Master General’s instructions. In the -mean time the formidable Provost Marshal attached to the division made -his patrols. - -[Sidenote: Starting the March] - -“The report of ‘All Present’ being made in succession by the Brigade -Majors to the Assistant Adjutant General, and by him to the General -commanding the column, the word ‘By sections of threes, march,’ was -given, from the right or left, as directed in the Quarter Master -General’s instructions, the whole being formed either right or -left in front, according to the views of the General in command of -the army. The advanced guard of the column was then formed under -the superintendence of the Brigade Major of the Brigade, right or -left in front. This advanced guard consisted of one company of -varying strength. The whole was marched off at sloped arms, with the -greatest precision and regularity, and remained in that order until -the word ‘March at ease’ was given to the leading battalion, which -was successively taken up by the others in the rear. The women, in -detached parties, either preceded the column or followed it—none were -permitted to accompany it; they generally remained with the baggage, -excepting when their finances enabled them to make little speculations -in bread and _comfort_ in the villages or towns in the neighbourhood -of the line of march. The Assistant Provost Marshal with his guard -and delinquents brought up the rear of the column, followed by the -rear guard, under an officer who took up all the stragglers, whom he -lodged in the main guard on his arrival, where those who had received -tickets of permission to fall out were directed to join their corps, -non-commissioned officers being in waiting to receive them. - -“The first halt was generally made at the expiration of half an hour -from the departure, and afterwards once an hour; each halt lasted at -least five minutes after the men had piled their arms; this might vary -a little, as the weather, distance, or other circumstances of the -march might point out. The object of halting was for the purpose of -allowing those who had fallen out to rejoin their companies, which, -excepting in cases of sickness, usually occurred; as a man wanting to -fall out was obliged to obtain a ticket from the officer commanding his -company so to do, and to leave his pack and his firelock to be carried -by his comrades of his section of threes; he therefore lost no time -to return to his rank, and give back his ticket. This first halt was -generally passed in eating a piece of bread or meat set aside for the -march—arranging the accoutrements, pack, haversack, and canteen, so as -to sit well—in jokes about the last night’s quarters or bivouac, or in -the anticipations of the next. At the expiration of the halt the drum -or bugle sounded the ‘Fall-in,’ and, by word of command, the leading -battalion proceeded in the same order as in the beginning of the march; -the other battalions following in succession, always with music; then -‘March at ease’ as before; but when the word ‘Attention’ was given, the -whole sloped arms and marched in the same order as at a field-day; this -was always done in formations previous to the halt. - -“When the army was not near the enemy, two officers preceded each -battalion on its march, one of them twenty-four hours before the -battalion, and, on his arrival at the station pointed out, received the -necessary information from the Assistant Quarter Master General. The -other officer marched the same day in charge of the camp-colour men of -each company, so as to arrive early, and take over the quarters from -the officer who went on the day before. - -[Sidenote: Distribution of Billets] - -“The Deputy Assistant Quarter Master General always preceded these -officers, to make arrangements with the magistrates as to quarters: and -the town was parcelled out by him, in proportion to the strength of the -several battalions or corps, to their respective officers; they divided -it according to their judgment to the ten orderlies, who chalked on the -doors the letter of the company and number of men to occupy, as also -the officers’ quarters, which invariably were in the quarters of the -company. The officer first marked off the quarters of the Commanding -Officer, staff, orderly-room, guard-room, Quarter Master’s stores, all -in the most central position in the quarters of the regiment. The first -officer then proceeded to the next station; the second officer and the -ten orderlies proceeded to the road by which the troops were to arrive, -and accompanied them to the alarm-post fixed for them: which spot the -Assistant Quarter Master General, under the direction of the General -in command, had pointed out, either in front or in rear of the town. -Here they halted in column, as also assembled the following morning, -or at any other time that the alarm or assembly might be sounded. The -brigades, the battalions, and the companies each had their respective -alarm-posts or places of formation in the most central parts of their -quarters. The officers commanding companies then put their men up, -and made reports to the Officer Commanding as to the accommodation, -or the want of it, the officers commanding battalions to those -commanding brigades, and the Generals of Brigades to the General of the -Division. The Assistant Quarter Master General was always ready to be -appealed to, in case of a battalion being crowded, to afford further -accommodation, as there was generally some building or street reserved -in a central position for this purpose, or in the event of detachments -of other corps arriving. - -“When the column was to bivouac in huts, or, as afterwards, encamp -in tents, there occurred less difficulty. On arrival on the position -pointed out in the Quarter Master General’s instructions, the General -commanding chose what he considered the most favourable ground in -accordance with needs as to front, communications with his flanks -and rear, reference to wood and water, and the health of the ground, -avoiding proximity to marshes, where the night damps might affect -the troops. The Assistant Quarter Master General disposed of this -ground to the several officers sent on in advance by the battalions -for that purpose, as before described in quarters. The General then -proceeded to the front, and indicated where he wished his advanced -piquets to be posted, to be in communication with the outposts of the -cavalry in front, or, if there were none, to cover all the approaches -with detached posts and sentries, so that nothing should be able to -arrive by any of them without being seen and stopped; or if patrols -or other movements of the enemy should take place, either by night or -day, that the same might be made known by the chain of sentries to the -detached posts and outlying piquets, and communicated to the main body, -if thought necessary, by the Field Officer of the outlying piquets. -Preconcerted signals of setting fire to beacons, or a certain number of -musket shots fired, communicated the alarm more quickly, and allowed -the troops more time to get under arms, until the precise cause of the -alarm was ascertained. - -“The division having arrived on its ground, the outlying piquets -were immediately marched off to take the covering of the front just -described. The temporary division-hospital, and the Commissariat -magazines, being pointed out to the Commanding Officers, Surgeons, -and Quarter Masters, the brigades and battalions proceeded to their -respective alarm-posts and ground for the encampment or bivouac, -accompanied by the officers and the camp-colour men as before stated. -The quarter and rear guards were then mounted, to be relieved always -in two hours afterwards by fresh troops. The sentries from the quarter -guards watched the communications to the front, and to the detached -posts between the camp and the outlying piquets, to communicate alarm -if announced in any manner from the front. - -[Sidenote: Tents and Huts] - -“If the troops were to encamp, the tent mules, which always immediately -followed the column, under charge of an officer, preceding all other -baggage, were unloaded, and the company’s tents pitched in column on -the alignment given to the battalion, brigade, and division. - -“If there were no tents, then the bill-hooks came speedily into play: -regular squads were formed for cutting branches, others for drawing -them to the lines, and others as the architects for constructing -the huts: this was an amusement more than a duty, and it was quite -wonderful to see how speedily every one was under cover. It was the -pride of each company that their officers’ huts should be the first and -the best built. The soldier became quite re-invigorated by the mere act -of piling arms, getting off his accoutrements, pack, haversack, and -other incumbrances, which weigh generally about sixty pounds, and set -to work in right earnest at the hut-building. Although the huts were -not quite so speedily erected, or pitched with the same regularity, -as the tents, yet still the order and alignment were preserved when -the ground permitted. This might not have been essential, yet still no -opportunity should be allowed to escape in inculcating the habit of -order and regularity in whatever is done by the soldier; and, however -simple the act, it should be impressed on his mind, that what is -ordered is the easiest, and that what is his duty is his interest. - -“The regular fatigue parties for bread, meat, and spirits were -regularly told off and warned, before the companies were dismissed to -pitch tents or build huts. These parties consisted generally of two or -three men per company, under a corporal, for each particular article -of provisions, to be ready to turn out when that article was called at -the quarter guard. A company’s guard or watch, of a corporal and four -privates, furnishing one sentry with side arms only, always remained in -the lines of the company to repeat communications and preserve order. - -“The Commanding Officers made their reports through the Majors of -brigade, that their respective battalions had received bread, meat, -spirits, and forage, specifying the number of days for each; that they -had marched off one or more companies, of such and such strength, for -the outlying piquets, to the posts directed under the orders of the -Field Officer of the outlying piquets; and that the orderlies who had -accompanied them had returned, knowing where to find them. The outlying -piquets were under the Field Officer of the day, who again received his -instructions from the Assistant Adjutant General of the division. The -Commanding Officers at the same time reported the force of the company -or inlying piquet, which were ready to turn out to support the outlying -piquet in the event of being required, and were under the Field Officer -of the day of the inlying piquets, and kept on their accoutrements, -although in other respects, like the remaining companies, not on duty, -and in their tents or huts. The company on inlying piquet, as also the -Field Officer of the day in charge of the whole of the companies of the -brigade, were always first for the outlying piquet. - -“All particular duties were taken by companies, under their own -officers, and not by the old way of individual roster of so many men -per company; such were the company for outlying piquet; the company -for inlying piquet, which gave the quarter and rear guards within the -lines; the first company for general fatigue, from which the Quarter -Master’s fatigues were taken for ammunition, equipment, working -parties, and all other fatigues, excepting rations; all these duties -were taken by the roster of companies. - -[Sidenote: On Drawing Rations] - -“The issue of rations was regulated by the Quarter Master and -Commissariat, agreeably to the instructions of the General commanding -the division or brigade, communicated in orders to the battalions, -and was done regimentally by individuals from all the companies, and -not by the company on general fatigue. On the issue of any article, -such as bread, meat, wine, or forage, the fatigue parties from each -company, as before described, were summoned from the quarter guard -by the Quarter Master, who called out the watch in the lines of each -company; those previously warned for each article turned out under -their respective non-commissioned officers, and assembled under the -officer of the inlying piquet named in the orders at the quarter guard. -He then proceeded with the Quarter Master or Quarter Master Sergeant -to the place of issue; after the delivery he returned to the quarter -guard, reported to the Captain of the Day, who was the captain of the -inlying piquet, the regularity or irregularity of the particular issue -under his superintendence, and then dismissed the parties under their -several non-commissioned officers to their respective companies, where -the delivery was immediately made under the orderly Officer of each -company. The same routine took place when in quarters; and, although -the recapitulation may appear tedious, still the whole was performed -with a celerity which leaves more time to the soldier when in camp than -in any other situation. - -“At an appointed hour the sick reports were gathered from the -companies, and the men paraded for the inspection of the Surgeon; -he reported to the Staff Surgeon, who, in his turn, reported to -the General commanding the division, sending his own report to the -Inspector General of Hospitals. - -“The General commanding the division made his reports to the Adjutant -and Quarter Master Generals for the information of the Commander of the -Forces, according to the importance of the report and the circumstances -of the moment. - -“When before the enemy, the issue of the provisions and the cooking -were attended to with every consideration to the position of things, -so that what was to be done should be done with speed as well as -precaution; for it would be bad management to throw away the soup -before it was well made, or swallow it boiling hot, in case of -interruption, and still worse to leave it to the enemy. All this is -sufficiently dwelt upon in the Duke’s ‘Circular Letter,’ and in the -admirable orders of General Robert Craufurd, from whence the greater -part of the foregoing details were learned and proved in the field.[268] - -“The new tin camp-kettle, carried alternately by the men of each -squad, was a great improvement upon the old Flanders iron cauldron, -which required a whole tree, or the half of a church door, to make it -boil; and which, being carried on the camp-kettle mule (afterwards -appropriated to carry the tents), only arrived with the baggage. This -improvement, as the Duke truly observed in his ‘October Minute,’ left -much valuable time disposable for other purposes. It is to be hoped -that in any future wars some improvement will also take place in the -weight and temper of the old bill-hook, which, in the early part of -the Peninsular War, was immoderately heavy, and had edges which, on -attempting to cut any wood not absolutely green, bent like lead: many -of the men threw these away, but the more prudent _exchanged_ them for -the lighter and better tempered bill-hook used by the Portuguese in -their vineyards, exchange being no robbery with our fellows. - -[Sidenote: The Miseries of Wet Weather] - -“In the camp or bivouac, in fine weather, all went on merrily, but -there came moments of which the mere remembrance even now recalls -ancient twitches of rheumatism, which the iron frame of the most hardy -could not always resist. On the night previous to General Craufurd’s -affair on the Coa, on those previous to the battle of Salamanca and the -battle of Waterloo, and on many other less anxious nights, not hallowed -by such recollections, deluges of rain not only drenched the earth, but -unfortunately all that rested or tried to rest upon it; the draining -through the hut from above by some ill-placed sticks in the roof, like -lightning conductors, conveyed the subtle fluid where it was the least -wanted; while the floods coursing under, drove away all possibility -of sleep: repose was, of course, out of the question, when even the -worms would come out of the earth, it being far too wet for them. ‘In -such a night as this’ it was weary work to await the lagging dawn with -a craving stomach; and, worse still, to find nothing but a bellyful -of bullets for breakfast. But, on the Pyrenees, in the more fortunate -and healthy days of tents, it was not unusual, when the mountain blast -and torrents of rain drew up the pegs of the tents, for them to fall, -as nothing in nature falls, squash on the soldier, who lay enveloped -and floundering in the horrible wet folds of canvas. Then nothing but -the passing joke ‘Boat a-hoy!’ or the roars of laughter caused by some -wag, who made this acme of misery into mirth, could re-animate to the -exertion of scrambling out of these clammy winding-sheets. These are -recollections, however, which, notwithstanding the sufferings in the -experience of them, and their legacies of rheumatism, still afford -pleasurable feelings to the old soldier, now laid up by his Christmas -fireside.” - -To this long and lively description by an anonymous Peninsular veteran -(probably from the Light Division) of the way in which Wellington’s -army moved, we need only add a few words by way of caution and -supplement. The smoothly-working regularity which it described could -not always be secured in actual practice. There were marches where -the system could not be carried out, by reason of hurry, unexpected -changes of direction, and the vagaries of the weather. When some -sudden movement of the French forced the Duke to throw his army on a -route that he had not intended to take, the elaborate provision of -officers going before to act as harbingers could not be carried out. -When a division halted, late at night, at some unforeseen destination, -there could be neither the selection of billets, nor (in the open -field) the erection of huts described above. All had to be done more -or less haphazard in the dark. In hot or stormy weather stragglers -were numerous, and the “ticket” routine broke down altogether. The -description above will do for long orderly movements like the advance -on Madrid in 1812, or the march to Vittoria, in 1813, but it fails to -reproduce the impression of confusion and misery caused by the perusal -of any good narrative of the Burgos retreat, or of the disorder in -the hasty marches to intercept Soult on the eve of the battles of -the Pyrenees. A quotation from a diarist in the ranks,[269] giving a -picture of the first-named march may suffice to give the reverse of -the shield. - -[Sidenote: The Retreat from Burgos] - -“Retreating before the enemy at any time is a grievous business, but -in such weather as that of November, 1812, it was doubly so. The rain -pouring down in torrents drenched us to the skin, the road, composed -of clay soil, stuck to our shoes so fast that they were torn off our -feet. The nights were dismally dark, the cold winds blew in heavy -gusts, and the roads became gradually worse. After marching in this -state for hours, we halted in a field by the roadside, piled our arms, -and were allowed to dispose of ourselves as we best could. The moon, -wading through dense masses of clouds, sometimes threw a momentary -gleam on the miserable beings huddled together in every variety of -posture, and trying to rest or to screen themselves from the cold. Some -were lying on the wet ground rolled in wetter blankets, some placed -their knapsack on a stone, and sat on it, with their blankets wrapped -about them, their heads resting on their knees, their teeth chattering -with cold. Long before daylight we were again ordered to fall in, and -proceeded on our retreat. The rain still continued to fall, the roads -were now knee-deep in mud. Many men got fatigued and could not follow: -the spring waggons could not hold them all; they dropped behind to -fall into the hands of the French cavalry. By some mismanagement the -commissary stores had been sent on ahead with the baggage, toward -Rodrigo, and we were without food. The feeling of hunger was very -severe: some oxen that had remained with the division were killed and -served out to us, but our attempts to kindle cooking fires with wet -wood were abortive. Sometimes we just managed to raise a smoke, and -numbers would gather round a fire, which then would go out, in spite of -their efforts. - -“A savage sort of desperation took possession of our minds: those -who lived on most friendly terms with each other in better times now -quarrelled with each other, using the most frightful imprecations on -the slightest offence. A misanthropic spirit took possession of every -breast. The streams from the hills were swollen into rivers, which we -had to wade, and vast numbers fell out, among them even officers. It -was piteous to see the men, who had long dragged their limbs after -them with a determined spirit, finally fall down in the mud unable to -proceed further. The despairing looks that they gave us, when they saw -us pass on, would have pierced the heart at any other time; but our -feelings were steeled, and we had no power to assist, even had we felt -the inclination. - -“At last the rain somewhat abated, but the cold was excessive: at -the nightly halt many men threw themselves down in the mud, praying -for death to relieve them from their misery. And some prayed not in -vain, for next morning, starting in the dark, we stumbled over several -who had died in the night. Setting my foot inadvertently on one, I -stooped down to feel, and I shall never forget the sickening thrill -that went to my heart, as my hand touched his cold, clammy face. This -day we halted earlier than usual, and the weather being clearer, got -fires lighted; but there was nothing to eat save acorns from a wood in -which we encamped—we greedily devoured them, though they were nauseous -in the extreme. Next day’s sufferings were of the same nature—only -more aggravated, till at last we neared Rodrigo in the dark, halted, -and heard at last the well-known summons of ‘Turn out for biscuit,’ -ring in our ears. We had got to food at last. Instead of the usual -orderly division each man seized what he could get, and began to allay -the dreadful gnawing pain which had tormented us for four days of -unexampled cold and fatigue.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -IMPEDIMENTA: THE BAGGAGE—LADIES AT THE FRONT - - -[Sidenote: The Baggage Animals] - -The train of Wellington’s army was very heavy. In addition to the long -droves of mules and ox-waggons which carried public stores, there was -a very large accumulation of private baggage. The field equipment -of officers—especially of officers of the higher ranks—strikes the -modern student as very heavy, and was much commented on by French -observers at the time. “To look at the mass of impedimenta and -camp-followers trailing behind the British,” says Foy, “you would -think you were beholding the army of Darius. Only when you have met -them in the field do you realize that you have to do with the soldiers -of Alexander.” The cause of this accumulation was partly a survival -of the lax customs of the eighteenth century, but it resulted still -more from the character of the country over which Wellington’s host -moved. In the interior of Spain or Portugal absolutely nothing was to -be procured. The simplest small luxuries, tea, sugar, coffee, were -ungettable, save in the largest towns; to renew clothing was equally -impossible. He who required anything must carry it with him. It was -not like campaigning in France, Belgium, Germany, or Italy. At the -commencement of his term of command Wellington laid down the rule[270] -that no private baggage was to be carried upon carts: “those who have -baggage to carry, must be provided with mules and horses.” This order -is repeated again and again during later years.[271] A regular scale -of the amount of horses and mules allowed to officers of different -rank was shortly produced. Two subalterns must share one sumpter-beast -between them, a captain was allowed a whole mule or horse, and so on, -in a mounting scale.[272] But as early as September 1, 1809, it would -seem that a more liberal allowance was made legal. In a “general order” -of that day we get an elaborate table of rations of forage for all -ranks, from the commander-in-chief downwards. While subalterns are -allowed one ration each, the number rises enormously for the seniors, -a captain commanding a company is set down for five rations, a major -for seven, a lieutenant-colonel in charge of a battalion for ten, the -Adjutant-General for twenty, etc., etc. This was a far too liberal -allowance for the senior ranks, and led to an accumulation of beasts, -both riding horses and pack-mules, far surpassing what was reasonable. -To enable them to equip themselves for field service, all officers -(whether staff or regimental) when ordered for the first time to join -the army, were allowed to draw 200 days “bât, baggage, and forage -money.” This presumably would go towards the purchase of their animals. -The forage allowed was 14 lbs. of hay or straw of the country, and 12 -lbs. of oats, or 10 lbs. of barley or Indian corn. When English hay was -procurable (as at Lisbon) only 10 lbs. of it might be issued instead of -the 14 lbs. of native stuff. On this system the captain would provide -himself with a riding horse, generally a small Portuguese nag, and have -a mule for his baggage. The subaltern must walk if he kept a mule: -but it seems that very soon the juniors also took to riding. At any -rate, lieutenants and other juniors often appear with a riding horse. -Nothing is more common in a diary than to find, on his first arrival in -Portugal the young officer procuring himself not one but two beasts, -generally a nag and a mule. Sometimes he brought out a horse of his own -from England.[273] More usually he bought— - - “A mule for baggage, and a ‘bit of blood’”[274] - -in the horse-market at Lisbon, of which one who had been through the -business writes:— - -“The only convenient opportunity to make the purchase was at a sort of -fair held every Tuesday in the lower part of the town. There horses, -mules, and asses were bought and sold, and (as in all markets) the -price chiefly depended on the demand. The Portuguese horse-dealer has -all the avidity of the English jockey to pick your pocket, but is -not so _au fait_ at the business. At this Fair you buy or sell your -animal, the bargain is struck, the money paid, and the contract is -indissoluble. English guineas had no attraction: the dollar or the -moidore was the medium; but since the guinea has been introduced in -the payment of the army (1813) the Portuguese begin to appreciate its -value. It was customary for officers who wanted cash to give their -draft on some house in London; but it was purchasing money very dearly, -giving at the rate of six and sixpence for a dollar that would only -bring five shillings, so losing eighteen pence on every crown.”[275] - -Good and large Spanish mules cost as much, or almost as much, as the -small horses of the country. Fifty to ninety dollars was an ordinary -price. Thirty to forty-five pounds was considered cheap for an English -riding horse.[276] A Portuguese nag might be bought for fifteen or -twenty. - -[Sidenote: Concerning Messes] - -“In consequence of the difficulty of transporting baggage,” writes -one of the liveliest commentators on daily life at the front, “a -regiment on active service could not keep up a regular mess, as in -England. Each officer was obliged to manage for himself: they generally -divided themselves into mess-parties by twos and threes. This greatly -incommoded the subaltern: allowed only the carriage of half an animal -[or at the most of one] it was not possible to admit, for the purpose -of having extra eatables, any addition to his share of baggage. The -mere ration was all that he got, with a camp-kettle for culinary -purposes. Besides we must recollect the difficulty of getting extra -food, and also the want of money. So the bit of beef and the ration of -biscuit was frequent fare for perhaps two-thirds of the officers—with -the allowance of ration-rum or wine (generally execrable stuff). The -prime luxuries were a drop of brandy and a segar. With respect to -articles of dress, the contents of a small portmanteau being all that -could be taken about, if a subaltern wore out or lost his regimental -jacket, he had to improvise a substitute, _e.g._ his great coat. -Waistcoats were as fancy directed, black, blue, or green, silk or -velvet.” - -Nevertheless, though the officer, or at least the junior officer, -thought himself much stinted in baggage, the private mules of the -regiment, and in particular those of the senior officers, made up -quite a drove—at least some thirty or forty. In addition there were -the public mules of the corps, some thirteen in number—one for each -company’s camp kettles, one for entrenching tools, one for the -paymaster’s books, one for the surgeon’s medical paniers. If we add to -these the private riding horses of the senior officers and such of -the juniors as could afford them, there was quite a cavalcade—enough -to block a road or to encumber a ford. And unfortunately the mules -and horses presupposed drivers and attendants. Wellington set his -face against the withdrawal from the ranks of soldier-servants to act -as muleteers.[277] Each officer, of course, had one; but they were -supposed to be available for service, and could only look to their -master’s business in the halts and encampments. Hence native servants -had to be hired—even the poorest pair of ensigns wanted a Portuguese -boy to look after their single mule. The colonel had probably three or -four followers. Thus to take charge of its baggage, private and public, -each battalion had a following of twenty or thirty such attendants, a -few English, the large majority Spanish or Portuguese. - -[Sidenote: The Camp Followers] - -It cannot be denied that these fellows had a villainous reputation, and -largely deserved it. Though many decent peasant lads were picked up in -the countryside by the earlier comers, and made trustworthy and loyal -servants, the majority were not satisfactory. The sort of followers -whom the officers of a newly-landed regiment engaged at short notice -upon the quays of Lisbon, when only two or three days were given them -for selection, were mostly “undesirables.” If there were a few among -them who were merely “broken men,”—ruined peasants seeking bread at any -hand that would give it,—the majority were the scum of a great harbour -city, ruffians of the lowest sort. The best of the Portuguese were with -the army: the net of the conscription was making wide sweeps, and few -young men of the decent class escaped the line or the militia. Personal -service under an English officer, who was certainly an incomprehensible -foreigner, and might well be a hard and unreasonable master, was not so -attractive as to draw the pick of the Portuguese working classes. It -did, on the other hand, appeal to needy rascals who wanted the chance -of cheating an employer who knew nothing of the country, its customs, -and its prices. There was splendid opportunity for embezzlement. -Moreover, many looked for more lucrative, if more dangerous gains. The -diaries show that a very considerable proportion of the hastily-hired -muleteers and servants absconded, after a few days, with their master’s -mule and portmanteau, and were never seen again. Those who did not, -were looking after the plunder of the battlefield, the camp, and -the wayside. It was they who robbed drunken soldiers, ill-guarded -commissary stores, or lonely villages. They slunk out at night to -make privy plunder in the lines of the regiments in which they were -not employed. On the battlefield they were ruthless strippers of the -wounded—English and Portuguese no less than French—as well as of the -dead. Unless report much mistreats them, they habitually knocked -a wounded Frenchman on the head, if they were out of sight of the -red-coats.[278] Considering the atrocities of which the French had been -guilty in Portugal, this might pass for not unnatural retaliation; but -it is certain that the British wounded were also frequently plundered, -and there is more than a suspicion that they were sometimes murdered. -The Spanish camp-followers passed as being even more blood-thirsty than -the Portuguese. Of course it was not the officers’ private employés -alone who were guilty of these misdemeanours; the public muleteers -of the commissariat staff, and other hangers-on of the army, had an -equally bad reputation. The most daring theft of the whole war, as has -been already mentioned, was done by two “authorized followers,” who -burglariously entered the house of the Commissary-General in 1814, -and got off with no less than £2000 in gold. They were detected, and -naturally suffered the extreme punishment of the law. By their names -one would seem to have been French, the other a Spaniard. There is an -awful story, told in two diaries, of a camp follower who in a time of -starvation sold to British soldiers as pork slices cut off a French -corpse.[279] He got away before he could be caught and shot. But enough -of these ghouls! - -[Sidenote: The Soldiers’ Wives] - -The followers of a British army were by no means exclusively foreign. -One of the worst impediments to the free movement of the host came from -the unhappy practice that then prevailed of allowing corps on foreign -service to take with them a proportion of soldiers’ wives—four or six -per company. Forty or sixty of these women, mostly mounted on donkeys, -formed the most unmanageable portion of every regimental train. They -were always straggling or being left behind, because they could not -keep up with the long marches that the army had often to take. Wayside -tragedies of this sort are to be found recorded in almost every -Peninsular memoir—often of the most harrowing sort. In especial we -may mention the number of these poor women who dropped in the Corunna -retreat, and died in the snow, or fell into the hands of the French. -The interesting little book of a married sergeant of the 42nd, who took -his wife about with him during the last three years of the war, is full -of curious little shifts and anxieties that they went through.[280] The -best description of this curious stratum of the Peninsular Army that I -know is in the autobiography of Bell of the 34th.[281] - -“The multitude of soldiers’ wives stuck to the army like bricks: averse -to all military discipline, they impeded our progress at times very -much, particularly in retreats. They became the subject of a General -Order, for their own special guidance. They were under no control, and -were always first mounted up and away, blocking up narrow passes and -checking the advance of the army with their donkeys, after repeated -orders to follow in rear of their respective corps, or their donkeys -would be shot. On the retreat from Burgos I remember Mrs. Biddy Flyn -remarking, ‘I would like to see the man that wud shoot _my_ donkey: -faith, I’ll be too early away for any of ’em to catch me. Will you -come wid me, girls?’ ‘Aye, indeed, every one of us.’ And away they -started at early dawn, cracking their jokes about divisional orders, -Wellington, commanding officers, and their next bivouac. Alas! the -Provost Marshal was in advance—a man in authority, and a terror to evil -doers: he was waiting a mile or two on, in a narrow turn of the road, -for the ladies, with a party all loaded. He gave orders to shoot the -first two donkeys _pour exemple_. There was a wild, fierce and furious -yell struck up, with more weeping and lamentation than one usually -hears at an Irish funeral, with sundry prayers for the _vagabone_ that -had murdered the lives of the poor darling innocent _crathers_. ‘Bad -luck to the ugly face of the Provost, the spy of the camp, may he niver -see home till the vultures have picked his eyes out, the born varmint,’ -and so on. The victims picked up what they could carry, and marched -along with the regiment, crying and lamenting their bitter fate. It -was wonderful what they endured—but in spite of this warning they were -foremost on the line of march next morning again. As Mrs. Skiddy, their -leader, said, ‘We must risk something to be in before the men, to have -the fire and a _dhrop_ of tay ready for them after their load and their -labour: and sure if we went in the _rare_ the French, bad luck to them, -would pick me up, me and my donkey, and then Dan Skiddy would be lost -entirely without me.’” - -The soldiers’ wives were indeed an extraordinary community—as hard as -nails, expert plunderers, furious partisans of the supreme excellence -of their own battalion, much given to fighting. Many of them were -widows twice and even thrice over—for when a married man was shot, and -his wife was a capable and desirable person, she would receive half a -dozen proposals before her husband was forty-eight hours in his grave. -And since the alternative was a hazardous voyage back to relatives in -England or Ireland, who had probably broken off with the “girl who ran -away with a soldier,” most of the widows concluded to stop with the -battalion, with a new spouse and a new name. As the war dragged on many -of the men picked up Portuguese and Spanish helpmates, who joined the -regimental drove, and made it strangely polyglot. At the end of the -struggle in 1814 there was a most harrowing scene at Bordeaux, when the -general order was issued that all these foreigners who could not prove -that they had been legitimately married to soldiers, with the colonel’s -leave, were to be refused transport to the British Isles.[282] There -were hundreds of them, and only in a few cases could the men find money -to get them taken home in private merchantmen. The bulk marched back -to the Peninsula in charge of a brigade of homeward bound Portuguese—a -most melancholy and distressful assembly.[283] - -[Sidenote: Ladies at the Front] - -It is extraordinary to find that a sprinkling of the officers of the -Peninsular Army were unwise enough to take their wives with them to the -front—thereby securing a life of wearing anxiety for both, and of dire -hardship for the poor ladies. One of the best known cases was that of -Hill’s senior aide-de-camp, Captain Currie, whose wife I have found -mentioned half a dozen times as making tea for the second division -staff, and holding a little reception whenever the division was settled -down for a few days. Another was Mrs. Dalbiac, wife of the colonel -of the 4th Dragoons, whose adventures on the field of Salamanca are -mentioned by Napier.[284] But the best chronicle of the ups and downs -of a young married couple may be found in the breezy autobiography -of Sir Harry Smith, then a subaltern in the 95th Rifles. His tale is -well known—he rescued a young Spanish lady among the horrors of the -sack of Badajoz, married her two days later, and had her with him for -the remaining three years of the war. The story of their Odyssey, as -related by him, is one of the most touching narratives of loyal love, -and hardship cheerfully borne, that any man can read. They lived -together for forty years in storm and sunshine, and she survived to -christen the town of Ladysmith by her name, while her husband was -commanding the forces in South Africa. He gave his name to the sister -town of Harrismith, less well remembered now than the long-besieged -place with which the memory of Juana Smith is linked. - -There is a sketch in Paris by the well-known artist, Colonel Lejeune, -who, when a prisoner at Elvas, made a drawing of an English military -family which passed him. As he describes it in his diary, “The captain -rode first on a very fine horse, warding off the sun with a parasol: -then came his wife very prettily dressed, with a small straw hat, -riding on a mule and carrying not only a parasol, but a little black -and tan dog on her knee, while she led by a cord a she-goat, to -supply her with milk. Beside madame walked her Irish nurse, carrying -in a green silk wrapper a baby, the hope of the family. A grenadier, -the captain’s servant, came behind and occasionally poked up the -long-eared steed of his mistress with a staff. Last in the procession -came a donkey loaded with much miscellaneous baggage, which included a -tea-kettle and a cage of canaries; it was guarded by an English servant -in livery, mounted on a sturdy cob and carrying a long posting-whip, -with which he occasionally made the donkey mend its pace.”[285] If -this picture is not exaggerated, it certainly helps us to understand -the strong objection which Wellington had for ladies at the front, and -all forms of impedimenta. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -A NOTE ON SIEGES - - -Every one knows that the record of the Peninsular Army in the matter -of sieges is not the most brilliant page in its annals. It is not to -the orgies that followed the storm of Badajoz or San Sebastian that -allusion is here made, but to the operations that preceded them, and to -the unhappy incidents that accompanied the luckless siege of Burgos. -Courage enough and to spare was lavished on those bloody leaguers; -perseverance was shown in no small measure; and to a certain extent -professional skill was not lacking. But the tale compares miserably -with the great story of the triumphs of Wellington’s army in the open -field. Reckless bravery had to supply the place of the machinery and -organization that was lacking, and too much blood was spilt, and -sometimes spilt to no effect. - -The responsibility for these facts is hard to distribute. As is -generally the case when failures are made, it is clear that a system -was to blame rather than any individual, or body of individuals. -Great Britain had been at war with France for some sixteen years; -but in all her countless expeditions she had never, since 1794, been -compelled to undertake regular sieges on a large scale. The battering -of old-fashioned native forts in India, the blockades of Malta or -Alexandria, the bombardments of Flushing or Copenhagen, need hardly -be mentioned. They were not operations such as those which Wellington -had to carry out in 1811 or 1812. For a long time the Peninsular War -had been considered as a purely defensive affair; it was concerned -with the protection of Portugal, almost (we might say) of Lisbon, from -the French invader. The home Government kept sending reinforcements to -Wellington, but they were under the impression that an over-powerful -combination of the enemy’s forces might some day force him to -re-embark. He himself regarded such a contingency as by no means -impossible. - -[Sidenote: Wellington’s Battering Train] - -But in the spring of the year 1811 it became clear that a defensive -war may have offensive episodes. After Masséna’s retreat from before -the Lines of Torres Vedras, Wellington had to protect the frontiers -of Portugal; and to guard them efficiently he needed possession of -Almeida, Ciudad Rodrigo, and Badajoz, which had all been in the hands -of the allies in the summer of 1810, but were now French fortresses. To -subdue these three places he required a large battering-train, properly -equipped for movement, and such a thing was not at his disposition. -There were a number of heavy guns mounted on the Lines of Torres -Vedras, and on the ramparts of Elvas, Abrantes, and Peniche. There were -also many companies of Portuguese gunners attached to those guns, and -a lesser number of British companies which had been immobilized in the -Lisbon lines. But heavy guns and gunners combined do not complete a -battering train. An immense amount of transport was required, and in -the spring of 1811 it was not at Wellington’s disposition. Well-nigh -every available ox-cart and mule in Portugal was already employed -in carrying the provisions and baggage of the field army. And water -transport, which would have been very valuable, could only be used for -a few miles of the lower courses of the Tagus and Douro. To begin a -regular siege of Almeida in April, 1811, was absolutely impossible, -not because there were not guns or gunners in Portugal, but because -there were no means of moving them at the time. Wellington did not -even attempt it, contenting himself with a mere blockade. On the other -flank an endeavour was made to besiege Badajoz, but this was only -possible because within a few miles of that city lay the Portuguese -fortress of Elvas, from whose walls was borrowed the hastily improvised -and imperfect battering-train with which the Spanish stronghold was -attacked. - -The first two sieges of Badajoz in 1811 were lamentable failures, -precisely because this haphazard battering-train was wholly inadequate -for the end to which it was applied. Alexander Dickson, the zealous -and capable officer placed in charge of the artillery, was set an -impossible task. He had about 400 Portuguese and 120 English gunners, -all equally untrained in siege duty, to work a strange collection of -antiquated and unserviceable cannon. The pieces borrowed from Elvas -were of irregular calibre and ancient pattern. Almost incredible as -it may appear, some of these long brass 24-pounders were nearly two -hundred years old—observers noted on them the arms and cyphers not only -of John IV. the first king of the Braganza dynasty, but of Philip III. -and Philip IV. of Spain, the contemporaries of our James I. and Charles -I.[286] Even the better guns were of obsolete eighteenth-century types. -No two had the same bore, nor were the shot supplied for them uniform -in size; it was necessary to cull and select a special heap of balls -for each particular gun. The whole formed, indeed, a sort of artillery -museum rather than an effective battering-train. The guns shot wildly -and weakly, and their gunners were inexperienced. No wonder that their -effect was poor. - -But this was not all: indeed, the inefficiency of the guns was perhaps -the secondary rather than the primary cause of the failure of the two -early sieges of Badajoz. More important still was it that Wellington -was as weak in the engineer as in the artillery arm. The number of -trained officers of engineers with the Peninsular Army was very -small—not much over thirty; but of rank and file to serve under them -there were practically none. Of the corps called the “Royal Military -Artificers,” the ancestors of the “Royal Sappers and Miners,” there -were actually only thirty-four attached to the army in 1810, and it -was far on in 1811 before their numbers reached a hundred. Many of them -were with Wellington’s field army on the distant frontier of Beira, -and before Badajoz, in May, there were little more than a score. For -the trench-work of the siege untrained volunteers had to be borrowed -from the line battalions, and to be instructed by the engineer officers -actually under the fire of the French guns. Their teachers were almost -all as ignorant of practical siege operations as themselves; the -British Army, as has already been remarked, had done little work of the -sort for many years. - -The officers, it is true, were zealous and often clever; the men -were recklessly brave, if unpractised in the simplest elements of -siegecraft. But good-will could not atone for want of experience, and -it seems clear that in these early sieges the plans were often unwise, -and the execution unskilful. The points of attack selected at Badajoz -were the strongest and least accessible points of the fortress, not -those against which the French had operated in their earlier siege in -February with success. This choice had been made because the British -were working “against time”; there were French armies collecting -for the relief of Badajoz, and if the leaguer took many weeks, it -was certain that an overwhelming force would be brought against the -besiegers and compel them to depart. Hence the engineer officers, -in both the unsuccessful sieges, tried to break in at points where -victory would be decisive; they thought it would be useless to begin -by capturing outworks, or by making a lodgment in the lower parts of -the city, which would leave its stronger points intact and capable of -further defence. They battered the high-lying fort of San Cristobal, -and the citadel on its precipitous height, arguing that if they could -capture either of them the whole fortress was at their mercy. Both -the points assailed turned out to be too strong: the stony hill of -San Cristobal proved impossible for trench work; desperate attempts -to storm the fort that crowned it, by columns advancing across the -open, were beaten off with heavy loss. The castle walls, after long -battering, refused to crumble into practicable breaches. Before -anything decisive had been accomplished, the French armies of succour -came up. Beresford beat the first at Albuera in May and renewed the -siege; the second (Soult and Marmont combined) was so strong that -Wellington dared not face it, and withdrew from his abandoned trenches -to within the Portuguese frontier in July. - -[Sidenote: Colonel Dickson’s Work] - -A great change for the better in Wellington’s position as regards -sieges had been made by the autumn of 1811. He had at last received -a number of good modern British iron guns, much superior to the old -Portuguese brass 24-pounders. And with infinite trouble and delay he -had at last created a battering-train that could move. This was the -work of Alexander Dickson, already mentioned, who was occupied from -July to November in accumulating at the obscure town of Villa da -Ponte, behind Almeida, masses of waggon-transport and trains of mules -and oxen, for the moving of the heavy cannon and the immense store of -ammunition belonging to them. The guns were brought up the Douro to -Lamego, where the river ceased to be navigable, and then dragged over -the hills by oxen. Several companies of Portuguese and British gunners -were attached to the park, and instructed, so far as was possible, in -siege work. At the same time the military artificers—still far too few -in numbers—were instructing volunteers from the line in the making of a -great store of gabions, platforms, fascines, and other necessaries. - -This long preparation, which was almost unsuspected by the French, -because it was unostentatious and made at a great distance from the -front, enabled Wellington to execute the siege of Ciudad Rodrigo in -January, 1812, with unexampled rapidity and success. The fortress -was not one of the first class, the garrison was rather weak, the -battering-train was now ample for the task required of it, and, to the -surprise and dismay of Marmont, Rodrigo fell after a siege of only -twelve days at midwinter (January 7–19) long before he could collect -his scattered divisions for its relief. - -The third attack on Badajoz, in March-April, 1812, turned out a much -less satisfactory business, though it ended in a triumphant success. -Like the two sieges of the preceding year, it was conducted “against -time”; Wellington being fully aware that if it went on too long the -relieving armies would be upon him. The means employed were more -adequate than those of 1811, though only a part of the battering-train -that had subdued Ciudad Rodrigo could be brought across the hills from -the distant frontier of Beira. The remainder was composed of ship-guns -borrowed from Lisbon. But though the artillery was not inadequate, and -the walls were thoroughly well breached, both the trench-work and the -storm cost over-many lives. Indeed, the main assault on the breaches -failed, and the town fell because two subsidiary attacks by escalade, -one carried out by Picton, the other by General Walker with a brigade -of the 5th Division, were both triumphantly successful. Wellington laid -the blame of the fearful loss of life upon the fact that his engineers -had no trained sappers to help them, and were unskilled in siegecraft. -They had attacked a point of the defences far more promising than those -battered in 1811, and had opened up immense gaps in the defences, but -nevertheless he was not satisfied with their direction. In a private -letter to Lord Liverpool, which is not printed in either of the two -series of his dispatches, he wrote:— - -[Illustration: _PLATE VII._ - -PRIVATE OF HEAVY DRAGOONS. - -1809. - -OFFICER OF FIELD ARTILLERY. - -1809.] - -“The capture of Badajoz affords as strong an instance of the gallantry -of our troops as has ever been displayed. But I anxiously hope that I -shall never again be the instrument of putting them to such a test as -that to which they were put last night. I assure your lordship that it -is quite impossible to carry fortified places by ‘_vive force_’ without -incurring great loss, and being exposed to the chance of failure, -unless the army should be provided with a sufficient trained corps -of sappers and miners.... The consequence of being so unprovided with -the people necessary to approach a regularly fortified place are, -first, that our engineers, though well-educated and brave, have never -turned their minds to the mode of conducting a regular siege, as it -is useless to think of that which it is impossible, in our service, -to perform. They think they have done their duty when they have -constructed a battery with a secure communication to it, which can -breach the place. Secondly, these breaches have to be carried by _vive -force_, at an infinite sacrifice of officers and soldiers.... These -great losses could be avoided, and, in my opinion, time gained in every -siege, if we had properly trained people to carry it on. I declare that -I have never seen breaches more practicable in themselves than the -three in the walls of Badajoz, and the fortress must have surrendered -with these breaches open, if I had been able to ‘approach’ the place. -But when I had made the third breach on the evening of the 6th, I could -do no more. I was then obliged either to storm or to give the business -up, and when I ordered the assault, I was certain that I should lose -our best officers and men. It is a cruel situation for any person to be -placed in, and I earnestly recommend to your lordship to have a corps -of sappers and miners formed without loss of time.”[287] - -[Sidenote: Wellington and His Engineers] - -The slaughter of Badajoz, then, in Wellington’s estimation, was due -partly to the fact that the British Army, unlike all other armies, -lacked regular companies of sappers and miners, and partly to the -inexperience of the engineer officers in carrying out the last stages -of a siege—the advance towards the glacis and the ditch by scientific -trench-work. They did not, he says, “turn their mind” towards such -operations, because they had never been furnished with skilled workmen -to carry them out. That sappers and miners did not exist as yet was not -the fault of Wellington, nor of the ministers, but of the professional -advisers of the administration, who should long ago have pointed out -that such a corps was wanted. That the Liverpool ministry was not -slow to take advice was shown by the fact that they at once converted -the already existing “Military Artificers” into sappers. On April 23, -less than three weeks after Badajoz fell, a warrant was issued for -instructing the corps in military field works, and shortly after six -companies were ordered to be sent to the Peninsula the moment that they -should have received such training. On August 4 the name of the whole -corps was changed from Royal Military Artificers to Royal Sappers and -Miners.[288] It was not, of course, till very late in the year that the -first of the new sapper companies joined Wellington, but by the next -spring he had 300 trained men with him. - -Meanwhile they had of course arrived too late for the siege of -Burgos, the most unhappy of all Wellington’s leaguers, where the -whole trench-work was conducted by volunteers from the line directed -by precisely eight of the old artificers—of whom one was killed and -the remaining seven wounded. The story of the Burgos operations reads -like an exaggerated repetition of the first siege of Badajoz. The -battering-train that took Badajoz had been left behind, and to attack -Burgos (whose strength was undervalued) Wellington had with him no -proper means. Only eight guns were brought up—because the transport -with the army could only provide a few spare teams, and the whole of -Castile had been swept clear of draught-beasts. This ridiculously weak -train proved wholly insufficient for the work set it. “Had there been -a siege establishment with the army even moderately efficient, so as -to have admitted of the performance of the rudiments of the art, the -attack (even with the inadequate artillery) might have been carried -through,” writes the historian of the Peninsular sieges.[289] But there -were only five engineer officers present, just eight artificers, no -tools save regimental picks and shovels borrowed from line regiments, -no _material_ save wood requisitioned from the town of Burgos, and so -little transport that the fire had sometimes to cease, to allow fresh -ammunition to be brought up from the distant Madrid. Wellington ordered -repeated assaults on the inadequately battered walls; they all failed, -and he finally retired after thirty-two days of open trenches, and with -the loss of nearly 2000 men, from before a “bicocque,” as the French -called it, which could not have withstood a proper battering-train for -a third of that time. - -[Sidenote: The Failure at Burgos] - -The fact is that Wellington had undervalued the strength of Burgos; -he thought it would fall easily. If he had known that it would hold -out for more than a month, he could have procured more guns from the -captured French arsenal at Madrid, and might have requisitioned all -the beasts of the army to draw them. But by the time that it began to -be seen that Burgos was not about to yield to a mere demonstration, it -was too late to get up the necessary means of reducing it. Finally, the -French armies mustered for its relief, and the British had to retire. -It may be added that the besieging troops, thoroughly disgusted with -the inadequate means used to prepare the way for them, did not act with -the same energy that had been shown at Rodrigo or Badajoz. Several of -the assaults were not pushed well home, and the trench-work was slack. -Wellington wrote, in his General Orders for October 3, a stiff rebuke, -to the effect that “the officers and soldiers of this army should know -that to work during a siege is as much a part of their duty as to -engage the enemy in the field; and they may depend upon it that unless -they perform the work allotted to them with due diligence, they cannot -acquire the honour which their comrades have won in former sieges.... -The Commander-in-Chief hopes he shall have no reason to complain in -future.”[290] - -The leaguer of San Sebastian, the last of Wellington’s sieges, bore -a great likeness to the last siege of Badajoz. It was conducted in -a time of considerable anxiety, while the army of Soult was making -vigorous and repeated efforts to frustrate it. The place was strong -by nature—a towering castle with the town at its foot joined to the -mainland only by a narrow sandy spit; the defences of this isthmus -were short, and reached from sea to sea: they were fully commanded by -the castle behind. The first great assault (July 25, 1813) was made -while the trenches were still far from the walls, and while the fire -of the besieged had not been silenced. It failed with heavy loss. The -second assault (August 31) was successful, but very bloody—2000 men -were killed or wounded. The most authoritative commentator writes: -“The operations against San Sebastian afford a most impressive lesson -on the advantages of proceeding step by step, and with due attention -to science and rule. The attempt there made to overcome or trample on -such restrictions caused a certain operation of twenty days to extend -to sixty. It bears strong testimony to the truth of the maxim laid down -by Marshal Vauban: ‘La précipitation dans les sièges ne hâte point -la prise des places, la retarde souvent, et ensanglante toujours la -scène.’”[291] - -[Sidenote: Trench Work] - -There can be no doubt that siege-work was loathed by the rank and file, -not so much for its danger—there was never any lack of volunteers for -a forlorn hope—but for its discomfort. There was a sort of underlying -feeling that entrenching was not soldier’s but navvy’s work; the -long hiding under cover in cramped positions, which was absolutely -necessary, was looked upon as a sort of skulking. With an unwise -disregard for their personal safety, which had a touch of bravado and -more than a touch of sulkiness in it, the men exposed themselves far -more than was necessary. I fancy that on some occasions, notably at -the early sieges of Badajoz and at Burgos, there was a general feeling -that matters were not being scientifically or adequately conducted, and -that too much was being asked of the rank and file, when they were -made to attempt a hard task without the proper means. It must have been -clear to them that there were too few engineer officers, not enough -artillery, and no proper provision of tools. Hence came a spirit of -anger and discontent. - -At Ciudad Rodrigo, and at the third and last leaguer of Badajoz, the -weather was so abominable that the siege-work was long looked back -on as a perfect nightmare. At Rodrigo, in the high upland of Leon, -the month of January was a combination of frost and rain; the water -accumulated in the trenches and there often froze, so that the men -were standing ankle-deep in a mixture of ice and mud, and since they -could not move about, because of the enemy’s incessant fire, suffered -horribly from cold. At Badajoz there was no frost: but incessant -chilling rain was almost as bad during the early weeks of the siege; -the trenches were often two feet deep in water, and the work of the -spade was almost useless, since the liquid mud that was shovelled -up ran away in streams out of the gabions into which it was cast, -and refused to pile up into parapets for the trenches, spreading out -instead into mere broad accumulations of slime, which gave no cover, -and had no resisting power against the round shot of the garrison. -I imagine that the desperate and dirty toil in those operations, -protracted over many days of abominable discomfort as well as danger, -accounts in great measure for the ferocious spirit shown by the victors -both at Rodrigo and Badajoz. The men were in a blind rage at the misery -which they had been enduring, and it found vent, after the storm was -over, in misconduct far surpassing that which would have followed a -pitched battle where the losses had been equally great. One observer -writes: “The spirit of the soldiers rose to a frightful height—I say -frightful because it was not of that sort which denoted exultation at -the prospect of achieving an exploit which was about to hold them up -to the admiration of the world; there was a certain _something_ in -their bearing which told plainly that they had suffered fatigues of -which they had not complained, and seen their comrades and officers -slain around them without repining, but that they had smarted under -the one and felt acutely for the other. They smothered both, so long -as body and mind were employed, but now, before the storm, they had a -momentary licence to think, and every fine feeling vanished—plunder and -revenge took their place.... A quiet but desperate calm replaced their -usual buoyant spirits, and nothing was observable in their manner but a -tiger-like expression of anxiety to seize upon their prey.”[292] - -[Sidenote: Waiting for the Storm] - -Preparation for the storm affected different men in different ways: -some tried to make up old quarrels and exchanged words of forgiveness; -a good many wrote letters home, which were to be delivered only in -the case of their falling. “Each arranged himself for the combat -in such manner as his fancy would admit of: some by lowering their -cartridge-boxes, others by turning them to the front for more -convenient use; others unclasped their stocks or opened their shirt -collars; others oiled their bayonets. Those who had them took leave -of their wives and children—an affecting sight, but not so much so as -might have been expected, because the women, from long habit, were -accustomed to such scenes of danger.”[293] - -One intelligent sergeant speaks of the moment of waiting for the order -to storm as full of a stress that nothing else could produce: “We felt -a dead weight hanging on our minds; had we been brought hurriedly into -action, it would have been quite different, but it is inconsistent with -the nature of man not to feel as I have described. The long warning, -the dark and silent night, the known strength of the fortress, the -imminent danger of the attack, all conspired to produce this feeling. -It was not the result of want of courage, as was shown by the calm -intrepidity of the advance when we came in range of the French -cannon.”[294] That the revulsion from the long waiting took the shape -of frenzied violence, when the men were at last let loose, was not -unnatural. A certain amount of the horrors which took place at Badajoz -and San Sebastian may be ascribed to mere frenzy, if the rest was due -to more deliberate wickedness on the part of the baser spirits of the -army. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -UNIFORMS AND WEAPONS - - -Without going into the niceties of regimental detail, which were fully -developed by 1809, it is necessary to give a certain attention to the -dress of the army—we might almost add, to its occasional want of dress. - -[Sidenote: Concerning Head-Gear] - -The Peninsular Army was fortunate in having started just late enough -to be rid of the worst of the unpractical clothing—the legacy of the -eighteenth century—which had afflicted the troops of the earlier years -of the war. The odd hat, shaped something like a civilian beaver, -with a shaving-brush at the side, which had been worn in Holland and -Egypt, had just been superseded for the rank and file by a light felt -shako, with brass plate in front,[295] and a woollen tuft with the -regimental colours (worn sometimes in front, sometimes at the side), -and ornamented with white loops and tassels.[296] This was a light -head-dress, compared with what had gone before, and no less with the -heavy, bell-topped leather shakos that were to come after. Wellington -protested against an early attempt to introduce these, saying that he -always knew his own troops at a distance, even when great-coated, by -the fact that their shakos were narrower at the crown than the base, -while the French headgear was always bell-topped, swelling out from the -bottom to the crown, and the distinction was useful. The felt shako -had a peak to protect the eyes from the sun, and a chin-strap. It was a -serviceable head-dress, whose only fault was that, after long wear, and -exposure to much rain, the felt became soft and might crease or bulge, -and then dry into unsightly and lop-sided shapes.[297] - -Down to 1811, officers of the line, except in rifle and light infantry -corps, were wearing cocked hats, as had been the custom since the -eighteenth century. The new clothing which came out in 1812 had -shakos (of a more ornamental sort) for officers as well as men. The -very sensible reason for the change was that obvious difference in -dress between commissioned and non-commissioned ranks enabled the -enemy’s marksmen to single out the officers, and to give them more -than their fair share of bullets. The discarded cocked hat had been -a stupid survival—a “burlesque of a _chapeau_ usually topped by some -extraordinary-looking feather,” says one wearer of it, while others -wore it without any feather at all. The “cut-down” hat, exactly a span -in height, was all the rage in the Lines of Torres Vedras during the -winter of 1810–11.[298] The felt shako was an enormous improvement in -every way. After 1811, only generals and staff officers, engineers, -doctors, commissaries, and drum-majors retained the cocked hat. The -last case that I remember of its being used in the line was that of -Lieutenant Maguire, of the 4th, who, leading the “forlorn hope” at the -storm of San Sebastian (Aug., 1813) put on a cocked hat with a white -feather “to make himself conspicuous and recognizable.” Clearly this -head-dress was by that date wholly abnormal.[299] - -Another evil which the Peninsular Army escaped also belonged to the -head. Pigtails and hair-powder went out in 1808—an immense boon. As one -who had endured them says, “The hair required to be soaped, floured, -and frizzed, in order to be tortured into an uncouth shape, which gave -the man acute pain, and robbed him of the power of turning his head -easily, unless he brought his body round with it.” The grease and flour -matted the hair, and inclined towards all sorts of scalp diseases. -Wellington, who had discarded hair-powder and dressing long before -most officers,[300] must have been rejoiced when it became legally -permissible to do without it in all ranks. It was not every one who -agreed with him—a few old-fashioned men still wore pigtails and powder -for some time in the Peninsula; but they soon died out. - -In the same year, 1808, that these monstrosities vanished another -affliction was relieved. Trousers of a blue-grey colour were -substituted for breeches and gaiters, as service dress, just before the -first brigades sailed, in 1808. The many-buttoned gaiters to the knee -had been an intolerable nuisance; there was every temptation not to -strip them off at all, when it took twelve minutes to button them up -efficiently, more if they were wet through. Hence troops liable to be -alarmed at any moment were tempted not to take them off at all for many -days, which led to uncleanliness and diseases in the legs. Trousers -were a great improvement—they were less tight, and could be easily -slipped into and out of. Under the trousers short boots (often called -shoes) were worn. - -[Sidenote: The Regimental Coat] - -The coat for all ranks in the infantry was cut short in front, -and had fairly small tails; it still preserved, more or less, the -late eighteenth century cut in this respect, but differed from the -earlier type in having the stiff upstanding collar supported by a -leather stock, an evil device which constricted the neck and tended -to apoplexy. On hard service, such as storming parties, the men -unbuttoned their collars and threw their stocks aside.[301] The most -characteristic point that strikes the eye in pictures of the rank and -file of the Peninsular period is the series of white stripes across the -front of the coat, caused by the ornamental prolongation of the button -guards. Bayonet and cartouche box were supported by the broad white -leather cross-belts, ornamented with a brass plate with the regimental -badge. The very heavy knapsack, normally of oilskin or glazed canvas, -was supported by a separate attachment of straps passing under the -arm-pits. The whole kit weighed some sixty pounds, when the canteen -and haversack are taken into consideration. Officers had only a single -leather belt coming from the right shoulder to the left hip, to sustain -the sword, and wore their red silk sashes girt tight, in several turns -around their waists. - -One of Wellington’s most sensible traits was an intense dislike of -worrying officers or men about details of uniform on active service. -“Provided we brought our men into the field well appointed,” says -Grattan of the 88th, “with their sixty rounds of ammunition each, he -never looked to see whether trousers were black, blue, or grey: and -as to ourselves, we might be rigged out in any colour of the rainbow -if we fancied it.” The consequence was that scarcely any two officers -were dressed alike! Some wore grey braided coats, others brown: some -again liked blue; many (from choice, or perhaps necessity) stuck to the -“old red rag.” Some wore long-skirted frock-coats, as better protection -to the loins than the orthodox regimental cut. There are some curious -records of the odd clothing in which officers finished a campaign. One -records that he did the Burgos retreat in a garment improvised from the -cassock of a priest, slit up and cut short and furnished with buttons. -Another, a captain in the 29th, landing in Great Britain in a braided -pelisse and a fancy waistcoat with silver buttons of Spanish filigree -work, was taken for some sort of French prisoner by a worthy general, -who congratulated him on being allowed such freedom in the place of -his captivity.[302] As to the men, they wore anything that could be -got: a quantity of French trousers found at the capture of Madrid, in -the Retiro fort, were issued to some corps. A more rough expedient was -that of a colonel with a very ragged regiment in the winter of 1813–14, -who allowed blankets to be cut up by the regimental tailors, to make -up into trousers for such of the men as were absolutely disreputable -in appearance. The battalion made some sensation when it marched into -Mont-de-Marsan a few days later.[303] - -All this did not vex Wellington’s soul in the least—from Picton’s -tall beaver hat to the blanket-trousers, he saw and disregarded every -detail. He himself was the most simply dressed man in the army, with -his small cocked hat unornamented save by the English and Portuguese -cockades, his blue, tight-buttoned frock-coat, and the short cloak with -cape which has been immortalized by a score of statues and pictures. - -I ought, perhaps, to mention that the winter-clothing for the infantry -was a grey pepper-and-salt coloured great coat, of very thick cloth, -with a cape reaching down to nearly the elbow, so as to give a double -thickness of protection to the shoulders. There was also an oilskin -cover to the felt shako, which could not always be easily adjusted to -the latter, when it had got distorted in shape from much wear. Plate -No. 8 gives an illustration of this costume. - -[Illustration: _PLATE VIII._ - -SERGEANT AND PRIVATE OF INFANTRY IN WINTER MARCHING ORDER. - -1813.] - -When the Peninsular Army first started on its campaigns, the heavy -dragoons were the most archaic-looking corps in it, for they still wore -the broad and heavy cocked hats, which had prevailed in all armies -during the middle years of George III., and jack boots up to the knee. -This headgear, which after a single campaign in the tropical rains -of the Peninsula always became sodden and shapeless, and hung down -limply towards the shoulders, was fortunately abolished by a royal -warrant of August, 1812, and during the following winter many of the -heavy dragoon regiments received brass helmets of a classical shape, -with a crest and plume, which, though rather heavy, were an immense -improvement on their former shapeless hats. At the same time they were -given instead of jack-boots (which had made skirmishing on foot almost -impossible) grey cloth overalls, with a broad red stripe, and short -boots. This was the dress of the heavies in 1813–14 and during the -Waterloo campaign. - -The light dragoons had gone to the Peninsula in 1808 with the black -japanned helmet with a bearskin crest along its crown, which had been -in use since the time of the American War. With it they wore blue coats -with white froggings, and buckskin breeches with Hessian boots. The -general effect was handsome, and in use the dress was not unpractical. -General Foy mentions it with approval in his history. The French -outposts were much puzzled when, at the commencement of the Vittoria -campaign, the English vedettes and outposts appeared in a new uniform, -which was introduced for light cavalry at the same time as the changes -made for heavy cavalry just mentioned above. It was at first suspected -that new regiments had been joining from England. The 1813 uniform -substituted, for the black helmet with fur, a shako with a small -upright plume, slightly bell-topped in shape, and with ornamental cord -and tassels. It looks as if it had been suggested by the head-dress of -the French _chasseurs à cheval_, and was much too like it to please -Wellington. At the same time the blue jacket barred with white lace -was changed for a blue coat, with a very broad plastron of the colour -of the regimental facings in front, extending from collar to waist, -and the buckskin breeches were replaced by tight-fitting breeches of -webbing. This was the Waterloo uniform of all light dragoon regiments. - -[Sidenote: Cavalry Uniforms] - -The large majority of the British cavalry regiments in the Peninsula -were light dragoons: for the first three years of Wellington’s command -there were only three heavy dragoon regiments in the field, and no -British hussars. Of the latter, a new introduction in the national -Army, there was one brigade present in 1808 during Sir John Moore’s -operations,[304] and the same regiments came out in 1813, to see the -last year of the war.[305] During the greater part of Wellington’s -campaigns the only hussars present with the army were Hanoverians, -the very efficient corps belonging to the King’s German Legion. The -fantastic hussar uniform of the period, a development from a much -simpler Hungarian original, is well known. Over a jacket fitting -tight to the body, was worn the furred and braided pelisse, which was -usually not completely put on, but flung back, so as to hang over the -left shoulder. It flapped behind, and was a hindrance rather than a -covering. On the legs long overalls were worn. The head-dress was a -very large fur cap, or, as it would have been called later, a busby. -I find very severe criticisms on this head-gear. One officer says, -“These flimsy, muff-like appendages encumber the heads of our soldiers. -The awkward cap, being constructed partly of pasteboard, soaks up a -great quantity of wet during the violent rains of this country, and -so becomes unbearably heavy and disagreeable, while it affords no -protection to the wearer. At all times it can be cut down to his skull -with the greatest ease.”[306] The cause of its adoption seems to have -been rather the Prince Regent’s eye for splendour in military costume -than anything else. For strength and protection, no less than comfort, -the light helmet of the early dragoons was universally preferred by -critics. Later improvements made the busby more solid and less heavy, -but in 1808 it was evidently a most unsatisfactory head-dress. - -[Sidenote: Artillery Uniforms] - -Artillery uniform may be described in a few words. That of the horse -artillery was a close copy of that of the original light dragoon—black -japanned helmet with fur crest, blue jacket laced with gold (instead -of the dragoon’s silver) and buckskin breeches. Field artillery, on -the other hand, were clothed almost exactly like infantry of the -line, save that their coats were blue instead of red. Their tall felt -shako and tuft, trousers, and coat with white stripes, were exactly -similar to those of the linesmen. Engineer officers wore a dress like -that of line officers before the shako came in, having a cocked hat -down to the end of the war, and trousers. The rank and file of that -department—Royal Military Artificers down to 1812,[307] Royal Sappers -and Miners after—had shako and blue coat down to 1813, but changed the -latter for a red coat, like that of the line, in the last-named year. -It was braided with yellow across the front instead of white, the only -practical difference in appearance. - -Doctors and commissaries down to the end of the war were wearing a -cocked hat, like that of a general or a staff officer. Hence some queer -mistakes, when these peaceful gentlemen were mistaken for combatant -officers, the colour of their plume, the one differentiating point, -failing to be observed in the dusk or in dirty weather. It is said that -some young commissaries were prone to pass themselves off as staff -officers on the Spanish and Portuguese peasantry, and even on local -authorities. A ridiculous anecdote is told of Doctor Maurice Quill, -the surgeon of the Connaught Rangers, who was the best-known humorist -in the army.[308] A general, who caught a glimpse of his cocked hat -behind a hedge, took him for a staff-officer shirking, and hunted him -for some time from cover to cover, the doctor meanwhile shouting back -to him, “I’m off; seen plenty of fighting for one day.” It was only -when he took refuge with his mules and medical panniers, that his irate -pursuer discovered that he was not a combatant officer. Other wearers -of the cocked hat were the drum-majors of the line, who are said to -have had much adulation paid to them by the country-folk, because of -their enormous gold-laced head-dress and lavish display of braiding, -which caused them to be taken for brigadiers at the least. - -The most distinctive infantry uniform in the whole army was that of -the rifle battalions, whose sombre colours contrasted in the most -marked way with the red of the British and the bright blue of the -Portuguese line. The dress of the 5/60th and the two light battalions -of the K.G.L. differed from that of the three battalions of the 95th, -in that while both wore the dark rifle-green jacket, the three German -units had grey-blue trousers not unlike those of the line, while the -latter were in green from head to foot. All wore black shakos of a -high shape, like those of other regiments, and with a green tuft or -ball at the front. The accoutrements were all black, in order to avoid -the showing of light or shining points on the body, when the men were -dispersed in skirmishing. In the head-dress of the officers there was -a certain variety, the 5/60th and 1st Light battalion K.G.L. having a -tall shako similar to that of their rank and file, while those of the -95th and the 2nd Light battalion K.G.L. had a peculiar head-dress, -something like that of an eighteenth-century hussar; it was a tall, -narrow cap, much adorned with diagonal twists of braid, and destitute -of the peak to shade the eyes which formed part of the normal shako; -it had a green tuft at the front. The 95th officers for some time wore -over their tight jackets a black furred and braided pelisse, in the -hussar style—surely a most absurd and inconvenient encumbrance for men -who were continually scrambling through hedges, and working among -thick brushwood. When thrown back, as it seems generally to have been, -it must have caught in every possible twig. The officers’ jackets were -distinguished from the plain-breasted coat of the rank and file by -having a great quantity of narrow braiding across the front: they all -wore falling “wings,” instead of epaulettes. The Portuguese caçador -uniform, save that it was brown and not bottle-green, reproduced very -closely the cut and form of that of the 5/60th. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: “Brown Bess”] - -A word as to armament naturally follows on notes concerning uniform. -The weapon that mainly won the Peninsular victories was the “Tower -musket” of the line battalions, the famous “Brown Bess.” It was a heavy -flint-lock, fitted with a pan, and weighing about nine pounds. Its -effective range was about 300 yards, but no accurate shooting could be -relied upon at any range over 100. Indeed, the man who could hit an -individual at that distance must not only have been a good shot, but -have possessed a firelock of over average quality. Compared with the -rifle, already a weapon of precision, it was but a haphazard sort of -arm. At any distance over the 100 yards the firing-line relied upon the -general effect of the volley that it gave, rather than on the shooting -of each man. Nevertheless, the British musket was decidedly a stronger, -better made and more accurate weapon than that used by Continental -armies, and was much preferred by our Spanish and Portuguese allies to -those of their own manufacture. Its calibre was sixteen, its missile -was a round leaden bullet (a little heavier than the French ball, -whose weight was twenty to the pound), and made up with a stout paper -cartridge, of which each man normally carried sixty. In order to secure -certain ignition by the snapping of the flint, the butt-end of the -cartridge had to be torn open by the teeth, before it was placed in the -musket barrel, and a splash of powder had to be thrown into the pan -to catch the spark and communicate it to the cartridge. The latter -was driven down the barrel by an iron ramrod. Raw recruits in a moment -of excitement, firing too fast, are said not infrequently to have -forgotten to withdraw the ramrod after loading, and to have shot it -away—which left them helpless. - -The greatest hindrance to good musketry was wet. Long-continued -rain might penetrate the cartouch box, and damp all the powder, so -that every cartridge missed fire. But even a sudden heavy squall -might drench the particular cartridge that was being handled, and -make its torn-open end incapable of ignition. Or it might wash the -priming-powder out of the pan, or damp it into a paste, so that it -could not catch fire. In either case, infantry fighting in a rainstorm -could not count on any certain fire-effect; not one shot in four might -go off, and troops surprised in open order by cavalry would be very -helpless. Their only chance of salvation would be to form square and -trust to the defensive power of the bayonet. The latter weapon was -long, triangular, and rather heavy; its weight did not make accurate -shooting easier, when it was fixed. - -There was a somewhat lighter and more carefully made weapon for light -infantry battalions, called the light infantry musket; except that its -sights were more accurately seen to, and that its length was slightly -less, I cannot find that it greatly differed from the normal Tower -musket. The same may be said of the _fusil_, which was an older type -of light musket, which had originally given its name to all fusiliers. -The last time that it occurs in use, was when it was given during the -latter years of the war to the experimental home battalions, into which -boys under seventeen were drafted. To suit their short stature and -younger muscles, fusils instead of full-sized muskets were served out -to them. - -[Sidenote: The Baker Rifle] - -Quite different from all muskets were the rifles served out to the -5/60th, the 95th, and the Light Battalions of the K.G.L. The pattern -was called the Baker rifle, from its inventor. It was a short weapon -with a barrel two and a half feet long, furnished with seven grooves -within, which made a quarter-turn in the length of the barrel. Its -calibre was a twenty bore, and it was stiff to load. An interesting -letter from one of the majors of the 5/60th to the assistant -adjutant-general at Cork, written just before the battalion sailed -for Portugal, makes a demand for 450 small mallets, for the purpose -of forcing the bullet down the barrel. “They should be made of hard -wood, with a handle about six inches long, pierced with a hole at the -extremity for fastening a string to it.” Major Davy adds that “the -instrument is absolutely necessary,” and a mallet for every two men -should be furnished.[309] These tools, however, were in use only for a -few months, were found not indispensable, and were finally withdrawn. -But to ram the ball home was always a hard job, owing to the grooves. -The rifleman carried no bayonet, his second weapon being a very short -and curved sword, more useful for wood-chopping than anything else. - -Sergeants were not yet armed like the rank and file, except in -the rifle battalions, where they carried the normal weapon of the -“Baker” type. In the Guards and line alike they had a seven-foot -spear with a cross-piece below the head, to prevent over-penetration -after a thrust.[310] The names of pike and halberd were used for it -indifferently, though the former was the more correct, the original -halberd having been a cut-and-thrust weapon with an edge as well as -a point. In addition, the sergeant carried a brass-hilted sword at -his left side. I have never found any mention of its being used, the -halberd being always the preferred weapon—though in action a sergeant -often picked up a dead man’s musket, and joined in the firing.[311] -But, _en revanche_, I have found a confession by a newly made sergeant -of his having caught it between his legs, and had a nasty fall, on -his first appearance with the three stripes. The weapon was slightly -curved, and meant for cutting rather than thrusting. - -On the other hand, the infantry officer’s sword was quite straight and -rather light, a thrusting weapon essentially. There are many complaints -that it was too slight for its work—_e.g._ it had no chance against a -French cavalry sword, which would always batter it down, when the two -clashed in stroke and parry. I have found it called a “toasting-fork,” -and other insulting names. Many officers provided themselves with -foreign weapons of a heavier make, and better adapted for cutting; no -objection was made to this departure from the regulations. Mounted and -staff officers carried a different sword—a curved broad-bladed sabre, -of the type of that used by light cavalry. Rifle officers also used a -curved sabre, of a rather short make, and not the straight infantry -sword. - -Heavy cavalry used the broad-sword with steel hilt and guard, straight -and very heavy. It could be used for the thrust as well as for the -cut, but it would seem that the British dragoons (unlike the French -cuirassiers) always preferred the edge to the point. The sabre of -the light dragoon and the hussar was a markedly curved weapon, very -broad in the blade, and only suitable for the stroke, though very -occasionally we hear of a thrust being made.[312] From the enormous -proportion of wounded to killed in engagements where the French and -English light cavalry met, it is clear that the sabres of both sides -were better suited to maim than to slay. The thrusting sword of the -cuirassiers had a much more terrible reputation. - -The rank and file of the Royal Sappers and Miners carried muskets -and bayonets like infantry of the line, and their sergeants the -regulation halberd. Horse artillery gunners had sabres of the light -dragoon type; but field artillery only very short curved swords, like -those of the rifle regiments. The drivers, who were organized as a -separate corps, had no weapons at all, in order that their attention -might not be distracted from their horses. This seems to have been a -very doubtful expedient, leaving them absolutely helpless if attacked -by hostile cavalry. It may have originated from the fact that the -driver, far into the eighteenth century, had not been a soldier at all, -but a “waggoner,” a civilian without uniform or arms. It was only in -1794 that the corps of Artillery Drivers was formed upon this rather -unpromising basis. - -[Sidenote: Regimental Colours] - -This is probably the place in which mention should be made of the -standards under which the army fought.[313] Cavalry banners or -_guidons_ had just gone out—if used at all in the Peninsular War, it -was only in its first year. Reports from the later years show that all -regiments had left them either at their depôt in England, or in some -cases at Lisbon. But infantry regiments, with few exceptions, took -their flags into the field, as was the custom with their successors -down to the last generation. It was only in the 1880’s that they -finally ceased to be displayed on active service. The Rifles, always -destined to fight in extended order, never had colours, and the -regimental annals of some Light Infantry corps (the 68th and 71st) -show that for similar reasons they had left their standards behind in -England. But this was not the case with all Light Infantry: the famous -43rd and 52nd carried them all through the war. - -Of the two battalion colours the one or “King’s Colour” was a large -Union Jack, with the regiment’s number on a shield or medallion, often -encompassed with a wreath, and sometimes also with the badge of the -corps, when such existed. The second or Regimental colour was of the -same hue as the facings of the corps, and only had a small Union Jack -in its upper left corner, next the pole. On the plain silk of the main -surface of the flag were disposed the number of the regiment, often -in a wreath, and its badges and battle-honours, where such existed. -Since facings had many hues, the main effect of the two flags was very -different, the large Union Jack of the King’s Colour being contrasted -with the yellow, green, crimson, or white, etc., of the Regimental -Colour. - -The colours were borne in battle by the two junior ensigns of -the battalion, who had assigned to them for protection several -colour-sergeants. It was the duty of these non-commissioned officers to -take charge of the flag if the proper bearer were slain or hurt, and -in many battles both colours came out of action in sergeants’ hands. -The post of colour-sergeant was honourable but dangerous, for the -enemy’s fire always beat hardest about the standards in the centre of -the battalion line. Sergeant Lawrence of the 40th notes, in his simple -diary, that at Waterloo he was ordered to the colours late in the day, -because both the ensigns and all the colour-sergeants had been hit. -“Though used to warfare as any one, this was a job I did not like. -There had been before me that day _fourteen_ sergeants already killed -or wounded around them, and both staff and colours were almost cut to -pieces.”[314] This was, of course, very exceptional carnage; but the -posts of junior ensign and colour-sergeant were always exceptionally -dangerous. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -THE COMMISSARIAT - - -As I have already had occasion to remark, when dealing with the central -organization of the Peninsular Army, of all the departments which had -their representatives at Head Quarters that which was under the charge -of the Commissary-General was the most important.[315] It is not too -much to say that, when the long struggle began, the whole future of -the war depended on whether the hastily organized and inexperienced -Commissariat Department could enable Wellington to keep his army -concentrated, and to move it freely in any direction. - -Spain and Portugal are countries where large armies cannot be supplied -from local resources, except in a few favoured districts. Any attempt -to live on requisitions was bound to fail in the end, as the French -realized to their sorrow, after a long series of endeavours to subsist -on the countryside in the Peninsula, as they were wont to do in Italy -or Germany. Wellington from the first forbade it, and resolved that -the main dependence of the troops must be on regular stores brought -up from the base of operations. Requisitions were only a subsidiary -resource; they could only be made by an authorized commissary, and -must be paid for at once. It was his misfortune that specie was often -not forthcoming, and the payments had to be made by Treasury orders -or other paper, which the peasants who received them found hard to -negotiate. But payment in some form was always made. - -[Sidenote: All-Importance of Convoys] - -At the best, requisitions were only a secondary aid, and the army -relied for the staple of its provisions on the stores which the -Commissary-General had to bring up from Lisbon or other bases. This -was a hard task for him, when it is remembered that the cross roads of -the Peninsula were mule-tracks, on which heavy wheeled traffic could -not pass; and that the army was often operating at a distance of 150 -or 200 miles from its depôts. Moreover, in 1809, the staff of the -Commissariat had all their work to learn—no British army for many years -had been operating in heavy force, and for many months on end, in a -thinly-peopled continental theatre of war. The difficulty of bringing -up the daily food of the troops seemed at first almost insuperable. -At the end of the Talavera campaign the men were well-nigh famished, -simply because the attempt had been made to depend more than was -possible on local resources, to the neglect of convoys from the base. -After this experience Wellington resolved that he must live on his own -stores, and this principle was remembered throughout the war. Hence -the work which fell on the commissariat, in collecting and forwarding -food from the base, was appalling. Most of it had to be conveyed by -brigades of pack-mules with native drivers, who were hard to manage -and prone to desert. The rest came up on country carts—ox-waggons for -the most part. That mistakes and delays occurred, that a brigade or a -division was occasionally foodless for several days, and forced to halt -in the middle of a critical operation, is not wonderful. But on the -whole after much toil and trouble the Commissariat succeeded in doing -its duty, and the length of time for which the British army could keep -concentrated was the envy of the French, who, living on the country, -were forced to disperse whenever they had exhausted the resources of -the particular region in which they were massed. - -All through the years 1811–12 the central fact in the Peninsula was -that if the French armies of Portugal and the North concentrated at -Salamanca and Rodrigo, or if (on the other hand) those of Portugal and -Andalusia joined on the Guadiana, in the region of Badajoz and Merida, -the Anglo-Portuguese were too weak to face the combination. Wellington -had to abandon the offensive, and to seek refuge behind the Portuguese -frontier. But when he did so, as in June, 1811, and again in September -of the same year, he knew that the overwhelming force in front of him -could not hold itself together for more than a very short period of -days. Troops brought from enormous distances, and destitute of any -adequate magazines or transport, could not live on the countryside for -more than a limited period. They were forced to disperse, in order to -feed, and so the threatening conjunction passed, and, when the enemy -had drawn apart, the allied army could once more abandon the defensive, -and take some positive project in hand. The same was the case in -the late autumn of 1812, during the retreat from Burgos. Wellington -on this occasion had on his hands the largest combination of French -troops that he ever faced—the four armies of Portugal, the North, the -Centre, and Andalusia were all pressing in upon him. It would have -been hopeless to fight, and so retreat was persevered in, so long as -the enemy continued to advance. But Wellington knew that the progress -of the 100,000 men now pursuing him must inevitably come to an end, -for in their rapid course they could bring no stores with them, and in -the war-worn country between Salamanca and Rodrigo they could obtain -nothing. Where his own troops, though returning toward their base -and their depôts, were hard put to it for food, the French must be -suffering even more. Wherefore he retreated, waiting for the inevitable -moment when the pursuit could be no longer urged. It mattered little -whether it stopped at Salamanca, or a march or so beyond (as actually -happened), or whether it might get a little further, as far as the -Portuguese frontier. It was certain, within a period of days, that it -must break down. Meanwhile he himself was retreating on to his stores, -and could depend upon them: after Rodrigo the men were getting their -full rations once more. - -The duties of the Commissariat may be divided into three sections—the -first was the accumulation of great masses of sea-borne stores at the -regular bases, the second was the distribution of those stores to the -troops at the front by an immense system of convoys; the third and -subsidiary task was the supplementing of these base-stores, by getting -in what could be procured in the countryside, where the army was -operating; for, of course, every _fanega_ or _arroba_ of food-stuff -that could be obtained at the front was helpful. It had not to be -carried far, it saved convoy work, and it kept the magazines at the -base from depletion. Yet, as has been already remarked, what was got -in the countryside was always considered as the secondary source of -supply; the main reliance was on the food-ships, which poured into the -base-depôt of Lisbon corn sought in the ends of the earth, not only in -such limited parts of Europe as could be drawn upon in the days of the -Continental System, but in Morocco, Turkey in Asia, and America. - -The maintenance of the Peninsular War entirely depended on the naval -predominance of Great Britain in all seas; if the army of Wellington -had not been able to draw freely on distant resources, his position -would have been little better than that of his French enemies. Hence -it was that, in one sense, the greatest danger that he ever incurred -was the American War of 1812–14, which turned loose upon his line -of communications, in the North Atlantic, many scores of active and -enterprising privateers, who did considerable damage among British -shipping, and for the first time since the war began made the high -seas insecure. But fortunately the commencement of the American War -exactly synchronized with the beginnings of Napoleon’s downfall, and -the struggle in Europe took a favourable turn just as the peril on the -ocean came into being. If the American War had broken out in 1809 or -1810, its significance would have been of much higher importance. - -The normal condition of commissariat affairs, during the first four -years of the war, was that there were daily arriving in Lisbon supplies -of all sorts, not only food but clothing, munitions, and weapons of -war, which had to be got forward to the army as quickly as possible. -In the winter of 1810–11, when the whole of Wellington’s host lay -concentrated behind (or later in advance of) the Lines of Torres -Vedras, the problem was comparatively simple, as the troops were close -to the magazines. But during the remainder of the years 1811–12 the -British divisions were lying out at a long distance from their base—by -Guarda, Celorico, or Almeida, or at other times near Merida, Campo -Mayor, and Portalegre. In 1812, when Wellington moved forward as far as -Madrid and Burgos, the _étapes_ between the base-depôt and the field -army were even greater. - -[Sidenote: Water Transport] - -The Commissary-General’s duty was to see that convoys went regularly -to the front, so that the army should never be in want. This was a -hard business, since most of the transfer had to be made on mule-back, -and the rest on ox-carts of primitive construction and small capacity. -Water-carriage, which would have been comparatively easy, could only -be utilized on a limited scale; the Tagus was generally navigable -to Abrantes, and when the main army lay in Estremadura this was a -great help, since stores could be sent up in barges and country boats -with much greater ease than by road. When unloaded at Abrantes, they -had a comparatively short way to travel by mule or ox-cart to Elvas -or Portalegre. But usually only Hill’s two divisions were on the -Estremadura frontier, and Wellington with the main force was somewhere -on the Beira frontier, in the direction of Guarda, Sabugal, and the -Coa. These regions are 150 miles or more from Lisbon, and the roads -beyond Coimbra on the one side and Abrantes on the other were rugged -and badly kept. It was a trying business to secure the constant and -regular forwarding of the necessary convoys, and the return of beasts -and men to the base, when they had discharged their loads at the -front. A very slight assistance was got by using the river Douro as a -secondary line of water carriage—but it was only navigable to Peso da -Regoa near Lamego, which was so far from the Spanish frontier and the -normal haunts of the army, that little was gained by sending stores to -Oporto as a secondary base-depôt. In 1811 the only large consignments -forwarded on that line were the heavy guns and ammunition, which -were to form the siege-train that Dickson was organizing at Villa da -Ponte,[316] which is comparatively close to Lamego, though the roads -between them were very bad. In 1812 Wellington’s engineers, by patient -blasting and dredging in the bed of the Douro, made it navigable as far -as Castro de Alva, which is forty miles up-stream from Peso da Regoa, -and lies not very remote from Almeida. After this the Douro became -much more useful as a line of supply, and it was largely used for the -forwarding of stores before the opening of the campaign of 1813. But, -just as it had become available on a better scale, Wellington started -the great march to Vittoria, whose success took him away for ever -from Portugal. During the last year of the war he suddenly shifted -his base, and made Santander and Passages his base-ports, so that the -improvements in the navigation of the Douro were of no further utility. - -[Sidenote: The Mule-Train] - -A great part of the Commissary-General’s staff was kept at Lisbon, -with a smaller sub-department at Oporto, receiving from the ships, -unloading, and repacking the immense stores that came to hand. -Every few days a convoy started for the front, under the charge of -a deputy-assistant-commissary, a commissariat-clerk, or some such -subordinate. It would usually consist of a large drove of hired -mules, worked by their owners, who generally acted together in gangs -or parties, of which a _capataz_ or head-driver, chosen by his -comrades, was the chief, and did the bargaining with the commissariat -authorities. The convoy would probably consist of the gangs of five -or six _capatazes_, and would number many scores of beasts. The -commissariat official in charge had no easy task to make the muleteers -get over a reasonable daily stretch of road, and to see that they did -not steal from the stores, or (what was not unknown when there was a -quarrel) desert with their beasts. When the convoy got near the front, -it would have to be provided with an escort—generally convalescents -returning to their battalions, or drafts newly arrived from England. -But the escorts were not an unmixed blessing—they were terribly prone -to picking and stealing from the stores, with or without the connivance -of the muleteers. There was nearly always trouble when a small escort, -without an officer to keep his men in hand, got associated with a mule -train. Brawls were frequent between soldiers and muleteers, and the -assistant-commissary in charge could not get the escort to obey him: -sergeants looked upon him as a mere civilian in a cocked hat, who -might be contemned. Nor was the task of such an unfortunate official -rendered more easy by the fact that, owing to sheer want of hard cash, -his muleteers were usually in long arrears of their stipulated hire. -They naturally grumbled, but on the whole stuck to their service far -more faithfully than might have been expected; there were times when -the whole body of them were many months unpaid, yet only a small -proportion disappeared. Probably the fact that they escaped the -conscription by being registered as authorized followers of the British -Army had something to do with their long-suffering: probably also real -patriotism had some share, for they all loyally hated the French, and -were prone to cut the throats of their wounded, if left unshepherded -near a recent battlefield. - -Wheeled transport was much less satisfactory than the mule trains for -continuous movement. The British waggons sent out to the Peninsula -turned out to be quite useless for Portuguese by-roads. Wellington -finally gave up all idea of relying on them for load-carrying, and -mainly employed them for his sick and wounded. A few of the “spring -waggons” (as they were called to distinguish them from the springless -Portuguese vehicles)[317] were attached to each brigade for the -carriage of invalids, and the “Royal Waggon Train” in the later years -of the war seem to have been almost treated as an ambulance corps. -Certainly the army would have been in evil case, if it had been forced -to rely on them for the moving of its food. - -Such stores as did move upon wheels, and not upon mule-back, were -carried on Portuguese ox-waggons, to which Wellington was compelled to -have recourse for want of better vehicles. These were very primitive -structures—the sides of wicker work, the wheels made of solid circles -of wood bounded with iron, turning axle and all, which made their -grinding noise almost intolerable. The excruciating thrills caused to -the ear by a train of such carts are mentioned with disgust by nearly -every Peninsular diarist, on his first introduction to life at the -front. The only advantages of ox-waggons were that they were light, -easy to repair, and specially built for the bad roads of the country: -moreover, every peasant knew how to drive them, or to mend them at a -pinch. Their weak points were that they were intolerably slow—two miles -an hour was a full allowance—and that they were too small to carry -much. However, they had to serve for want of better vehicles—and the -army could not have lived without their service. An immense amount of -them were employed, some on regular and long terms of hire, as part of -the permanent transport of the army, others in a more temporary way, -by requisition from the district. These last were always difficult -to manage; professional muleteers would not object to travel, but -impressed peasants loathed quitting their own district, fearing that -they might be taken far afield—perhaps into Spain—before they were -released. They were always trying to abscond with their precious -bullocks, abandoning the comparatively worthless cart and its stores. -A picture of the sort may be taken from Hennegan’s lively narrative of -a march in 1809, when he had to take an unwilling train of “embargoed” -waggoners across the mountains of Northern Beira. - -[Sidenote: Desertion of Drivers] - -“Leaning on their oxen at nightfall, they contemplated in mute dismay -on one side the gigantic hill which they had just descended, on the -other the roaring torrent of the Douro, which in its impetuous course -seemed to threaten with destruction the temerity that would brave its -power. The _Santa Marias_ of some were answered by the more emphatic -_carajos!_ of others, but even these died away before the necessities -of the moment, and unyoking the oxen, to afford them the shelter of -trees, the drivers spread their large cloaks in the empty sheds, and -soon in sleep seemed to forget their disappointment. The poor men, -taken from their homes for our service, risked in the loss of their -oxen the only means of support for themselves and families. - -“The following morning, however, presented a curious scene. There stood -the wains, securely packed, but looking as if the earth had brought -them forth, for no vestige remained of the means by which they had been -brought to this lonely spot. The rumour of the proximity of the French -had determined these Portuguese on sacrificing the wains, if only they -could ensure the preservation of themselves and oxen. What was now to -be done?”[318] - -As a matter of fact, the non-plussed guardian of the deserted convoy -had to remain motionless for many days, risking the possible arrival of -the French, till at last he procured boats on the Douro, and shipped -his charge down to Oporto. Hennegan’s peasants got away with their -bullocks—he and his escort were evidently sleepy and unsuspecting: but -often a good watch was kept on the teams, and sentries placed over -them. In such cases, if the weather was bad, or the French too near, -the drivers would often sacrifice even their loved beasts, and simply -abscond themselves, abandoning their means of livelihood. - -It says much for the general zeal of the Commissariat Department -that, even with such difficulties about them, they usually succeeded -in keeping the army supplied with food. Occasionally there were -desperate pinches of starvation, when the army had out-marched its -convoys—this, for example, happened on the Alva in March, 1811, when -half of the army, in pursuit of Masséna, had to stop dead for several -days, because their rapid advance had left the slow-moving mule-trains -several marches behind. To press the French would have been most -profitable—but if the troops had gone on, through the depopulated -land before them, they must have perished of sheer want of food, and -Wellington reluctantly halted till the convoys began to creep up -to the front. Another period of empty stomachs was seen during the -retreat from Burgos, from the opposite cause; forced to give back, -Wellington started his train betimes for Ciudad Rodrigo, to get it out -of the proximity of the oncoming enemy. Hence the rear divisions, who -had to contain the pursuers and to move slowly, found, when they had -eaten what was in their haversacks, that the convoys were all several -marches ahead of them. They suffered terribly, and existed for two days -mainly on acorns gleaned from the oak forests through which they were -marching. But mischances of this kind were hardly to be considered the -fault of the Commissariat. - -[Sidenote: The Resources of the Country] - -As I have already had to remark, the duty of the officers of this -department did not merely consist in bringing up and distributing -food forwarded from the base depôts. They had also, as a subsidiary -resource, to get what they could out of the countryside. A good -assistant-commissary was always casting about, through the villages on -either side of the route of the brigade to which he was attached, to -find cattle and corn that could be bought. He was forced to pay for -them, since Wellington strictly forbade requisition without value -given. When the commissary had dollars the matter was not so difficult, -for the peasants were generally ready to sell. But when, as often -happened, the military chest was empty, and payment could only be made -in _vales_—paper promises to pay—the inhabitants soon got wind of the -fact, hid their corn, and drove their oxen up into the hills. The good -commissary was the man, who, under such circumstances could discover -and get possession of the concealed resources of the land. But even if -there was money in hand, a good deal of tact was required in dealing -with the natives, and it was not every one who would make the most of -his store of cash or paper for the benefit of his brigade. How the -ingenious man worked may be gathered from a note of Commissary Dallas, -dealing with a march through Northern Andalusia in 1812.[319] - -“Having made careful inquiries as to the properties and farms which lay -at some distance to right or left of the road, our plan was to seek -them, not saying a word of our object, but simply asking hospitality. I -do not remember that this was ever refused, though sometimes we failed -to gain anything. We usually began with talking of the horrors of the -French, of which Andres had many terrible chapters to relate. This led -to expressions of grief as to the ravages that the enemy had made: by -degrees we introduced a word of rejoicing that some people had so well -known how to hide their property from such rapacious robbers. It often -happened that at the word _esconder_, to hide, there were indications -on the countenances of some of the party which led to further -inquiries. On many occasions we drew out hints from various members of -the community which enabled us to jump to conclusions, which surprised -other members, as to the concealment of stores of wheat, barley, Indian -corn, etc. The difficulty was to obtain access to the supplies, when we -had become aware of their existence; but I had power to give a good -price, and was armed with plenary authority of Spanish officials to say -that my drafts would be honoured in due course. - -“An incident or two will illustrate the manner in which we got -supplies. At one distant solitary house of poor appearance Andres -discovered that, while everything looked poverty-stricken about the -place, there was somewhere in a thick wood a barn which contained -concealed stores. I told the mistress of the house of the very high -price that I would give for wheat, Indian corn, or forage. In the grey -October dawn I was awoke by her husband, who told me he could supply -what I wanted, if I would give a certain price, which he named. I said -that I must see the supplies before I gave money. He bade me rise, and -he would show me. He led me two miles to a thick wood, in which was a -deep ravine; here he brought me safely to a receptacle of much hidden -store, which I took at his own price, and gave him the proper document. -In one part of the Sierra Morena we heard of a considerable flock of -sheep secreted in the depth of a forest. I obtained the permission of -the owner to possess them for a certain price _if I could get them_, -for he himself could not point out the spot where they were to be -found. After gathering what information I could, I set forth in the -hope of finding them, and did so by following a track of sheep till I -arrived in the middle of the flock. I told the two shepherds that I had -purchased them—they were doubtful and one very refractory. But at last -one of them drove the sheep to the open plain outside the forest, and -then disappeared among the trees with his dog, leaving me to drive the -flock as I could. It was no easy task—but I got them into an enclosure -a considerable way off.”[320] - -[Sidenote: The Unpopular Commissary] - -If these were the experiences of a Commissariat official who had been -three years in Spain, and knew the language well, it is easy to guess -how inefficient a newly landed clerk or assistant must have been, -when he was sent to sweep the countryside for what he could discover. -It was a thankless task—often the seeker came back empty, to be -frowned upon by his departmental chief and the brigadier. When he did -discover food, it was taken for granted, and he was little thanked. -The fighting men seem to have had a general prejudice against their -providers—they were accused of being timid, arrogant, and selfish, -and the embezzlements of certain black sheep were made to cover a -general charge of dishonesty against the whole tribe, which was -far from being justified. Misfeasance there certainly was, when an -unscrupulous commissary credited a peasant with more _fanegas_ than he -had received, and divided the balance of cash with the seller. But on -the whole the work was well done, despite of the many complaints of the -military—from Wellington himself downwards. That the Peninsular War was -successfully maintained in 1810–11–12 was surely, at bottom, the work -of the much-maligned commissaries, and the motley band of ill-paid and -sometimes ruffianly muleteers and waggoners, who, through a thousand -difficulties,[321] generally got the biscuit and the rum-barrels, the -droves of bullocks, and the packs of clothing and shoes, to their -appointed destination. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -A NOTE ON THINGS SPIRITUAL - - -In the first chapter of this volume I had occasion to remark that -Wellington’s army had in its ranks a considerable sprinkling of men -of religion, and that three or four of the better Peninsular memoirs -were written by them. Some were Methodists, some Churchmen, so that -both sides of the great spiritual movement which had started about the -middle of the eighteenth century were represented in their diaries. The -spiritual side of the soldier’s life during the great war has had so -little written about it, that a few illustrative pages on this topic -must not be omitted. - -We may trace the existence of the admirable class of men who have -left us these memoirs to two separate causes. The one, of course, was -the way in which the movement started by the Wesleys had influenced -all ranks of life, from the lowest upward. Its effects had not -been confined to avowed Methodists, but had led to the rise of the -Evangelical party within the Church of England, which was developing -very rapidly all through the days of the Great War. But I think that -even if the Wesleys had never lived, there would yet have been a -strong reaction in favour of godly living and the open profession of -Christianity, in consequence of the blasphemous antics of the French -Revolution. Nothing in that movement so disgusted Englishmen (even -those of them who were not much given to practical religion) as the -story of the “Goddess of Reason,” enthroned on the high-altar of -Notre Dame, at the time when an orgy of bloodshed was making odious -the flatulent talk about humanitarianism and liberty which was the -staple of Revolutionary oratory. The peculiar combination of insult -to Christianity, open evil living, and wholesale judicial murder, -which distinguished the time of the Terror, had an effect on observers -comparable to nothing else that has been seen in modern times. Even -men who had not hitherto taken their religion very seriously, began to -think that a hell was logically necessary in the scheme of creation -for beings like Chaumette or Hébert, Fouquier Tinville or Carrier of -the _Noyades_. And, we may add, a personal devil was surely required, -to account for the promptings of insane wickedness which led to the -actions of such people. A tightening up of religious observances, such -as the use of family prayer and regular attendance at Church, was a -marked feature of the time. It required some time for the movement to -spread, but its effect was soon observable. It naturally took shape -in adhesion to Evangelical societies within the Church of England, or -Methodist societies without it; since these were the already existing -nuclei round which those whose souls had been stirred by the horrors in -France and the imminent peril of Great Britain would group themselves. - -[Sidenote: Effects of the French Revolution] - -Very soon the day was over in which “enthusiasm” was the dread of all -normal easy-going men. Something more than the eighteenth century -religious sentimentalism, and vague spiritual philosophy, was needed -for a nation which had to fight for life and empire against the French -Republic and all its works. Those methods of thought were sufficiently -discredited by the fact that there was a touch of Rousseau in them: -it was easy to look over the Channel, and see to what a belief in -some nebulous Supreme Being, and in the perfectibility and essential -righteousness of mankind at large, might lead. The God of the Old -Testament was a much more satisfactory object of worship to the men -who had to face the Jacobin, and Calvinism has always proved a good -fighting creed. If ever there was a justification for a belief that -the enemy were in a condition of complete reprobation, and that to -smite them was the duty of every Christian man, it was surely at -this time. The conviction of the universality of sin and the natural -wickedness of the human heart was the exact opposite and antidote -to the optimistic philosophy of the eighteenth century, and to its -belief that man is essentially a benevolent being, and that if he -sometimes breaks out into deplorable violence “_tout comprendre est -tout pardonner_.” As a working hypothesis for an enemy of the French -Revolution the Calvinistic theory had everything in its favour. - -The army, like English society in general, contained an appreciable -proportion of those whom the stress and terror of the times had made -anxious about their souls. Some took their religious experience -quietly, and found sufficient edification in accepted forms. Many, -however, filled with a fervent belief in original sin and in the -blackness of their own hearts, only got comfort by “conversion” in -the prevalent form of the day, and in subsequent reliance on complete -Justification by Faith. - -“Conversion” was frequently a matter of dire spiritual agony and -wrestling, often accompanied by fits of horrible depression, which -were generally fought down, but sometimes ended in religious mania. -Sergeant Donaldson of the 94th, whom I have often had to quote in other -chapters, tells a terrible tale from his own regiment of a man whose -weak point had been a violent temper, and a tendency to use his fists. -Being under strong religious emotion, and having determined never again -to offend in this way, he had the misfortune to break out once more -in unjustifiable blows, administered to his peasant landlord in the -village of Ustaritz. Ashamed of his backsliding he fell into a fit of -despair, and brooding over the text “if thy right hand offend thee, cut -it off,” he resolved that this was the only cure for his irascibility. -Whereupon he went, and without any display of emotion or eccentricity, -very quietly borrowed a felling-axe from one of the regimental -pioneers, placed his right hand upon a window-sill, and cut it off with -a single blow delivered very dexterously with his left. He then went -and reported his act and its reason to the regimental surgeon, with -great calmness and lucidity.[322] - -[Sidenote: The Agonies of Conversion] - -Such incidents as this were rare among those who were undergoing the -process of Conversion, but it was generally accompanied by long spasms -of conviction of sin, when, as one memoir-writer records, “all the -crimes of his life passed before him in black array, when he felt -that if he could but bury himself in a cave or den of the earth, and -forego all intercourse with mankind, it would be to purchase pardon -and peace easily and cheaply.... Life was but the dreadful expectation -of that fatal hour when the fiend would be commissioned to seize and -carry off the guilty soul to its abode of everlasting misery.”[323] -Another diarist records that, as he went down toward the great breach -of Badajoz, he was repeating to himself very forcibly, “You will be in -hell before daylight” all the time, till he received a disabling wound. -This rifleman, when he experienced conversion, received therewith an -unexpected gift of metrical exposition. His autobiography is curiously -sprinkled with his impromptu verses such as— - - “Then why let our minds be encumbered - ’Bout what such poor worms may befall, - When the hairs of our head are all numbered - By Him who reigns King over all?” - -And again— - - “I shall go where duty calls me, - Patient bearing what befalls me, - Jesus Christ will bring me through! - Bullets, cannon balls or death - Cannot hurt ‘the better part,’ - So I’ll list to what He saith - Till He bids me home depart.”[324] - -This ecstatic confidence of the converted man is very clearly expressed -in many a little book. A Guards’ sergeant, whose memoirs I have had -occasion to quote in earlier chapters, mentions that, all through the -hard experience of his brigade at Talavera, he was comforted by the -thought that, however disastrous the day was looking, “the Lord can -save us now.” - -“Standing between the enemy and my own men, with the shot ploughing up -the ground all about me, the Lord kept me from all fear, and I got back -to my place in the line without injury and without agitation. Indeed, -who should be so firm as the Christian soldier, who has the assurance -in his breast that to depart and to be with Christ is far better than -to continue toiling here below?”[325] On another occasion this diarist, -in a long waiting spell before a dangerous disembarkation, found -Wesley’s two hundred and twenty-seventh hymn running in his mind all -the morning, to the inexpressible comfort of his soul during an anxious -time. - -This kind of comfortable ecstasy did not by any means preclude a ready -and competent employment of musket and bayonet. One or two of the -notable personal exploits of the Peninsular War were done by “saints.” -There is a special mention in several diaries, regimental and general, -of John Rae, of the 71st, a well-known Methodist, who at the combat of -Sobral (October 14, 1810), being the last man of the skirmishers of his -battalion to retire, was beset by three French _tirailleurs_, on whom -he turned, and shot one and bayoneted the other two in the twinkling of -an eye. He received a medal for his conduct from his brigadier, who had -been an eye-witness of the affair.[326] - -[Sidenote: Wellington’s Views on Religion] - -The attitude of Wellington toward religion at large, and religious -soldiers in particular, was very much what one might have expected -from his peculiar blend of personal characteristics. He was a sincere -believer in Christianity as presented by the Church of England, but he -had not been in the least affected by recent evangelical developments, -and his belief was of a rather dry and official sort; an officer who -took to public preaching and the forming of religious societies was -only two or three degrees less distasteful to him than an officer who -was foul-mouthed in his language and openly contemned holy things. -I fancy that the Duke would have been inclined to regard both as -“ungentlemanly.” Religion with him was the due recognition of the fact -that man has a Creator, who has imposed upon him a code of laws and a -system of morality which it is man’s duty to remember, and so far as he -may, to observe. He was quite ready to acknowledge that he had his own -failings, but trusted that they were not unpardonable ones. The two or -three Evangelical enthusiasts who had the courage to tackle him in his -later days on the subject of his soul, got small profit thereby.[327] - -It is highly to his credit that he made from 1810 onward a serious -attempt to organize a system of brigade chaplaincies for his army, and -to see that the men should not lack the possibility of public worship. -Down to that year the chaplains’ department had been much neglected: -large expeditions had gone out without a single clergyman attached, and -in the first Peninsular Army of 1808 there had been very few—though -two of them, Ormsby and Bradford, happen to have left interesting -books behind them, the latter’s beautifully illustrated by sketches. -Wellington complained that the provision that he found in 1809 was -wholly inadequate, asked for and obtained an additional establishment, -and made arrangements for regular Sunday services in each brigade. - -The letter of February 6, 1811, in which he explains his views to -the Adjutant General at the Horse Guards is a very characteristic -document. “The army should have the advantage of religious instruction, -from a knowledge that it is the greatest support and aid to military -discipline and order.” But there are not enough chaplains, and those -that exist are not always “respectable.” The prospects of a military -chaplain are not attractive enough; on retirement he is much worse -off than he would have been “if he had followed any other line of the -clerical profession besides the army.” Hence few good men are obtained. -For want of sufficiently numerous and influential official teachers, -spontaneous religious life has broken out in the army. There are three -Methodist meetings in the 1st Division alone. In the 9th regiment two -officers are preaching, in despite of their colonels’ dissuasions. - -“The meeting of soldiers in their cantonments to sing psalms, or to -hear a sermon read by one of their comrades is, in the abstract, -perfectly innocent; it is a better way of spending their time than many -others to which they are addicted. But it may become otherwise, and -yet, till the abuse has made some progress, their commanding officer -would have no knowledge of it, nor could he interfere.” - -Official religious instruction is the proper remedy. A “respectable -clergyman” is wanted, who “by his personal influence and advice, and -by that of true religion, would moderate the zeal and enthusiasm of -those people, and prevent meetings from becoming mischievous, even if -he could not prevail upon them to discontinue them entirely.” Wherefore -the Adjutant General must provide for a larger establishment of -“respectable and efficient clergymen.” - -[Sidenote: The Chaplains] - -The Horse Guards complied at once: chaplains, it was replied, should be -sent out “selected with the utmost care and circumspection by the first -prelates of the country.” Their pay was raised, and they were directed -to conclude every service with a short practical sermon, suited to -the habits and understanding of soldiers. “Good preaching,” adds the -Adjutant General, “is more than ever required at a time peculiarly -marked by the exertions and interference of sectaries of various -denominations.”[328] - -The chaplains duly appeared. There were good men among them, but -they were not, taken as a whole, a complete success. Perhaps the -idea, equally nourished by Wellington and by the Horse Guards, that -“respectable” clergymen rather than enthusiasts should be drafted out, -was the cardinal mistake; the sort of men that were really wanted -at the front were precisely the enthusiasts, like that Rev. T. Owen -(afterwards secretary of the British and Foreign Bible Society), of -whom we are told that he was in days of action so far forward in the -field that officers warned him that he would infallibly be killed. His -reply was that his primary duty was “to be of service to those now -departing this life.”[329] This sort of laudable energy, I am bound to -say, does not seem to have been the most common characteristic of the -chaplains, if we may trust the diaries of the time. - -A good many of them were sent straight out from a country curacy to the -front, had no special knowledge of soldiers and their ways, and were -appalled at having to face the great facts of life and death in their -crudest form day after day. There is one distressing picture of a young -clergyman suddenly confronted in the guard-tent with five deserters -who were to be shot that afternoon. They were all criminals who had -been actually taken in the French ranks, fighting against their old -comrades, at the storm of Ciudad Rodrigo. The chaplain helplessly read -prayers at them, felt that he could do no more with callous ruffians -who had met the death-sentence with an oath, and followed them to the -execution-place looking very uncomfortable, quite useless, and much -ashamed of himself. - -It was almost as trying, if not so horrible, to be tackled by a -Calvinist in the throes of conversion, who gave glowing pictures of -hell-fire, and asked for the means of avoiding it, refusing to take as -an answer any dole of chapters from the New Testament or petitions from -the Prayer Book. Here is a picture of the situation from the point of -view of the penitent, Quartermaster Surtees, whom I have already had -occasion to quote. - -“From the clergyman, though a kind and sympathizing man, I, alas! -derived but little benefit. He did not direct me to the only source of -a sin-sick being’s hopes—the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of -the world. He tried to make my hopes centre more on good resolutions, -and after-doings. How thankfully would I have accepted the true method -of salvation pointed out in the gospel; but already I was but too much -(as the natural man always is) inclined to expect pardon from the -acts of penitence which, if God spared me, I intended to perform. The -kind gentleman wrote me out prayers, and seemed much interested in my -welfare. But reading and praying seemed more like an irksome task than -an exercise which brought spiritual profit.... Indeed the Scriptures -were still at this time a ‘sealed book’ to me; until the grace of God -has dispelled our darkness there is no light in anything.”[330] - -Clearly the Quartermaster had come upon one of those sensible and -commonplace clergy whom Wellington had requisitioned from the -Chaplain-general’s department, when he wanted an Evangelist who would -have preached to him Justification by Faith in its simplest form. - -There are a good many humorous anecdotes concerning the race of -Chaplains preserved in the Peninsular diaries, not for the most part -imputing to them any serious moral failing—though several are accused -of having become “Belemites,”[331] and of shirking the front—but -tending to prove that they often failed to rise to the occasion in -their difficult calling. This was indeed to be expected when most of -them had not the least knowledge of military life and customs, and -were wandering about for many months in a world quite new to them. -Clearly only men of experience should have been sent—but (as Wellington -remarks in one of his letters) the pay offered was so small that -only enthusiasts or very poor men could be expected to take it—and -enthusiasts, for other reasons, the commander-in-chief did not like. -The soldier seems often to have been struck by the helplessness of the -chaplain—he let himself be robbed by his servants, wandered outside the -picquets and got captured by the French, or was deceived by obvious -hypocrites. There is one ridiculous story of a young clergyman who, -when first brought forward to take a brigade Sunday service, and placed -behind the big-drum, which was to serve him as a sort of central mark, -mistook its function for that of a pulpit, and endeavoured to mount -upon it, with disastrous results, and to the infinite laughter of the -congregation. - -[Sidenote: The Methodists] - -Not unfrequently the chaplains fell out with the Methodists among -their flocks. They had been specially imported by Wellington in order -that they might discourage the prayer meetings—“getting up little -conventicles” as one of them called these assemblies. “The Church -service is sufficient for the instruction of mankind,” said another, -and “the zeal for preaching” tended to self-sufficiency and incipient -pharisaism. On the whole, however, there was no regular or normal -opposition between Church of England and Methodist soldiers; they were -in such a minority among the godless that it would have been absurd -for them to have quarrelled. The Methodists regularly received the -sacrament from the chaplains along with the churchmen, and the latter -were frequently to be found at the prayer meetings of the former. - -Sergeant Stevenson’s memoir, a mine of useful information in this -respect, informs us that the regular organized prayer meeting of the -Wesleyans in the 1st Division was begun in a gravel-pit just outside -the walls of Badajoz, in September, 1809, and never ceased from that -time forward. During the long sojourn behind the Lines of Torres Vedras -it was held for many weeks in a large wine-press, holding more than a -hundred men, behind the village of Cartaxo, quite close to Wellington’s -headquarters, where indeed the hymns sung could be clearly heard. -There were similar associations in other divisions, some mainly Church -of England, some (as in the 79th regiment) Presbyterian. Stevenson -says that he never heard of any opposition on the part of commanding -officers, save in the case of one captain, whose preaching was finally -ended by a course of persecution on the part of his colonel. But of -course the “saints” had to endure a good deal of ridicule from their -comrades, more especially those of them who took occasion to testify -against drunkenness or blasphemy. Stevenson gives a verse of his own, -which he says that he pasted up in the sergeants’ room of the 3rd -Guards, to discourage profane swearing at large. - - “It chills the blood to hear the Blest Supreme - Rashly appealed to on each trifling theme, - Maintain your rank: vulgarity despise; - To swear is neither _brave_, _polite_, nor _wise_.” - -We may observe a certain canny appeal to the self-respect of the -non-commissioned officer, in the insinuation that by blasphemy he -lowers himself to the ranks, and is guilty of vulgarity and want of -politeness. It is to be feared that these couplets might have been not -inappropriately hung up in the mess rooms of certain regiments whose -colonels were by no means choice in their language. - -[Sidenote: Soldier-Parsons] - -Among the senior officers of the Peninsular Army there were a good -number who were not merely like Wellington, conformists of an official -sort, but zealous Christians, such were Hill, Le Marchant,[332] -Colborne, and John Beckwith—the Light Division colonel, who devoted -his later years to taking care of the Waldenses of Piedmont, among -whom he settled down in the evening of his life. Quite a sprinkling -of the younger officers took orders when the war was over, after the -great disbandment of 1816–17, when all the second battalions were -disembodied. Such were three men who have left us excellent Peninsular -diaries, Gleig of the 85th, the author of “The Subaltern,” and other -works, afterwards Chaplain-General to the forces; Dallas, who made a -great name as an evangelist at Burford, was another soldier-parson; -Boothby, who wrote a good journal concerning Maida, Corunna, and -Talavera, was a third. The type generally ran to strong Evangelicalism, -as was natural, considering that this was the really live and vigorous -element in the Church of that day. - -It is clear that the religious condition of regiments varied -extremely—that in some the influence of serious and devout officers -and men was large, in others practically invisible. The character of -the colonel made some difference for good or bad, but I imagine that -more depended on the existence or non-existence of some small knot of -officers or sergeants who did not fear to let their views be known, -and formed a nucleus around which steady men gathered. Their names -are mostly forgotten, the record of their witnessing has perished, or -emerges only in some obscure corner of a little-read biography or an -old religious magazine. I could wish that some sympathetic hand could -devote a whole book to collecting and recording that which I have only -been able to touch upon in this short chapter. It is a side of the life -of the Peninsular Army which well deserves recording, since without -some notice of it the picture of military society during the great war -is wholly incomplete. - - - - -APPENDIX I. - - -(A.) ESTABLISHMENT OF THE BRITISH INFANTRY OF THE LINE. July, 1809. - -N.B.—The star * affixed to a battalion’s station means that it had just -returned from Sir John Moore’s Corunna Campaign. - - ---------+-----------------+--------------+-------------+------------- - No. of | Territorial |Establishment.| Station | Station - Regiment.| or other | Officers | of 1st | of 2nd - | Designation. | and men. | Battalion. |and other - | | | |Battalions - | | | | [if any]. - ---------+-----------------+--------------+-------------+------------- - 1st |Royal Scots | 4926 |West Indies |2nd East - | | | |Indies; - | | | |3rd Home* - | | | |[went to - | | | |Walcheren]; - | | | |4th Home - | | | | - 2nd |Queen’s Royal | 906 |Home* [went |No 2nd - | | |to Walcheren]|battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 3rd |The Buffs | 1610 |Peninsular |Home - | | |Field Army | - | | | | - 4th |King’s Own | 2031 |Home* [went |Home [went - | | |to Walcheren]|to Walcheren] - | | | | - 5th |Northumberland | 2031 |Home* [went |Home - |Regiment | |to Walcheren]| - | | | | - 6th |1st Warwickshire | 1820 |Home* [went |Home - | | |to Walcheren]| - | | | | - 7th |Royal Fusiliers | 2031 |Nova Scotia |Lisbon - | | | |[later - | | | |Gibraltar] - | | | | - 8th |The King’s | 1610 |West Indies |Home [went - |Regiment | | |to Walcheren] - | | | | - 9th |East Norfolk | 2289 |Home* [went |Peninsular - | | |to Walcheren]|Field Army - | | | | - 10th |North Lincoln | 1610 |Sicily |Home [went - | | | |to Walcheren] - | | | | - 11th |North Devon | 2031 |Madeira |Home [went - | | |[later |to Walcheren] - | | |Peninsula] | - | | | | - 12th |East Suffolk | 941 |East Indies |[Raised - | | | |a 2nd - | | | |battalion in - | | | |1813] - | | | | - 13th |1st Somerset | 1126 |West Indies |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 14th |Bucks Regiment[A]| 2290 |East Indies |2nd Home* - | | | |[Walcheren]; - | | | |3rd Sicily - | | | | - 15th |East Riding | 1400 |West Indies |Home - |Regiment | | | - | | | | - 16th |Bedfordshire[333]| 406 |West Indies |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 17th |Leicestershire | 1151 |East Indies |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 18th |Royal Irish | 1669 |West Indies |West Indies - | | | | - 19th |1st York, North | 930 |East Indies |No 2nd - |Riding | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 20th |East Devon | 930 |Home* [went |No 2nd - | | |to Walcheren]|battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 21st |Royal North | 1820 |Sicily |Home - |British Fusiliers| | | - | | | | - 22nd |Cheshire | 941 |East Indies |[Raised - | | | |a 2nd - | | | |battalion in - | | | |1814] - | | | | - 23rd |Royal Welsh | 2079 |Nova Scotia |Home* [went - |Fusiliers | | |to Walcheren] - | | | | - 24th |2nd Warwickshire | 2031 |Cape of Good |Peninsular - | | |Hope |Field Army - | | | | - 25th |King’s Own | 1400 |West Indies |Home - |Borderers | | | - | | | | - 26th |Cameronians | 1610 |Home* [went |Home - | | |to Walcheren]| - | | | | - 27th |Inniskillings | 3448 |Sicily |2nd - | | | |Battalion - | | | |Sicily; 3rd - | | | |battalion - | | | |Garrison of - | | | |Lisbon - | | | | - 28th |North | 2031 |Home* [went |Peninsular - |Gloucestershire | |to Walcheren]|Field Army - | | | | - 29th |Worcestershire | 1126 |Peninsular |No 2nd - | | |Field Army |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 30th |Cambridgeshire | 2242 |East Indies |Gibraltar - | | | |[late Lisbon] - | | | | - 31st |Huntingdonshire | 2079 |Malta |Peninsular - | | | |Field Army - | | | | - 32nd |Cornwall | 1820 |Home* [went |Home - | | |to Walcheren]| - | | | | - 33rd |1st West Riding | 941 |East Indies |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 34th |Cumberland | 1845 |East Indies |Home [later - | | | |to Peninsula] - | | | | - 35th |Sussex | 1820 |Sicily |Home [went - | | | |to Walcheren] - | | | | - 36th |Herefordshire | 1610 |Home* [went |Home - | | |to Walcheren]| - | | | | - 37th |North Hants | 706 |West Indies |[Raised - | | | |a 2nd - | | | |battalion in - | | | |1811] - | | | | - 38th |1st Stafford | 1820 |Home* [went |Home - | | |to Walcheren]| - | | | | - 39th |Dorsetshire | 1820 |Malta |Peninsular - | | | |Field Army - | | | | - 40th |2nd Somerset | 1820 |Peninsular |Home - | | |Field Army | - | | | | - 41st |None | 696 |Canada |[Raised - | | | |a 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |1814] - | | | | - 42nd |Black Watch | 2031 |Home* [went |Peninsular - | | |to Walcheren]|Field Army - | | | | - 43rd |Monmouth | 2031 |Peninsular |Home* [went - | | |Field Army* |to Walcheren] - | | | | - 44th |1st Essex | 2030 |Sicily |Gibraltar - | | | | - 45th |Nottinghamshire | 1610 |Peninsular |Home - | | |Field Army | - | | | | - 46th |South Devon | 496 |West Indies |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 47th |Lancashire | 2242 |East Indies |Home [later - | | | |Cadiz] - | | | | - 48th |Northamptonshire | 2251 |Peninsular |Peninsular - | | |Field Army |Field Army - | | | | - 49th |Hertfordshire | 906 |Canada |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 50th |West Kent | 1820 |Home* [went |Home - | | |to Walcheren]| - | | | | - 51st |2nd West Riding | 906 |Home* [went |No 2nd - | | |to Walcheren]|battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 52nd |Oxfordshire | 2079 |Peninsular |Home* [went - | | |Field Army* |to Walcheren] - | | | | - 53rd |Shropshire | 2242 |East Indies |Peninsular - | | | |Field Army - | | | | - 54th |West Norfolk | 706 |West Indies |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 55th |Westmoreland | 706 |West Indies |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 56th |West Essex | 2301 |East Indies |2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |East Indies - | | | |[raised - | | | |a 3rd - | | | |battalion - | | | |1813] - | | | | - 57th |West Middlesex | 1610 |Gibraltar |Home - | | |[later | - | | |Portugal] | - | | | | - 58th |Rutland | 1820 |Sicily |Garrison of - | | | |Lisbon - | | | | - 59th |2nd | 1290 |East Indies |Home* [went - |Nottinghamshire | | |to Walcheren] - | | | | - 60th |Royal Americans | 4847 |West Indies |2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |West - | | | |Indies; 3rd - | | | |battalion - | | | |ditto; 4th - | | | |battalion - | | | |ditto; 5th - | | | |battalion - | | | |Peninsular - | | | |Field Army; - | | | |6th and 7th - | | | |West Indies - | | | | - 61st |South | 1820 |Peninsular |Home - |Gloucestershire | |Field Army | - | | | | - 62nd |Wiltshire | 1610 |Sicily |Sicily - | | | | - 63rd |West Suffolk | 1610 |West Indies |Home [went - | | | |to Walcheren] - | | | | - 64th |2nd Staffordshire| 916 |West Indies |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 65th |2nd Yorks, North | 731 |East Indies |No 2nd - |Riding | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 66th |Berkshire | 2031 |East Indies |Peninsular - | | | |Field Army - | | | | - 67th |South Hants | 2031 |East Indies |Home - | | | | - 68th |Durham | 716 |West Indies |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 69th |South | 1337 |East Indies |Home - |Lincolnshire | | | - | | | | - 70th |Surrey Regiment | 706 |West Indies |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 71st |Glasgow | 1820 |Home* [went |Home - |Highlanders | |to Walcheren]| - | | | | - 72nd |Highlanders | 1600 |East Indies |Home - | | | | - 73rd |2nd Royal | 1180 |Sailing to |Home [only - |Highlanders | |N.S. Wales |formed in - | | | |1809] - | | | | - 74th |Highlanders | 696 |Home [went |No 2nd - | | |to Walcheren]|battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 75th |Highlanders | 696 |Home |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 76th |Hindostan | 1126 |Home* [went |No 2nd - |Regiment | |to Walcheren]|battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 77th |East Middlesex | 696 |Home [went |No 2nd - | | |to Walcheren]|battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 78th |Rosshire Buffs | 1885 |East Indies |Sicily - | | | |[later Home] - | | | | - 79th |Cameron | 1820 |Home* [went |Home - |Highlanders | |to Walcheren]| - | | | | - 80th |Staffordshire | 1151 |East Indies |No 2nd - |Volunteers | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 81st |2nd Loyal Lincoln| 2079 |Sicily |Home* [went - | | | |to Walcheren] - | | | | - 82nd |Prince of Wales’ | 1820 |Home* [went |Home - |Volunteers | |to Walcheren]| - | | | | - 83rd |None | 2461 |Cape of Good |Peninsular - | | |Hope |Field Army - | | | | - 84th |York and | 2276 |East Indies |Home [went - |Lancaster | | |to Walcheren] - | | | | - 85th |Bucks Volunteers | 716 |Home [went |No 2nd - | | |to Walcheren]|battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 86th |Leinster Regiment| 731 |East Indies |[Raised - | | | |a 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |1814] - | | | | - 87th |Prince of Wales’ | 2299 |Cape of Good |Peninsular - |Irish Fusiliers | |Hope |Field Army - | | | | - 88th |Connaught Rangers| 2031 |Peninsular |Lisbon - | | |Field Army |[later - | | | |Gibraltar] - | | | | - 89th |None | 2031 |Cape of Good |Gibraltar - | | |Hope | - | | | | - 90th |Perthshire | 1610 |West Indies |Home - |Volunteers | | | - | | | | - 91st |Highlanders | 1390 |Home* [went |Home - | | |to Walcheren]| - | | | | - 92nd |Gordon | 1820 |Home* [went |Home - |Highlanders | |to Walcheren]| - | | | | - 93rd |Sutherland | 1126 |Cape of Good |[Raised - |Highlanders | |Hope |a second - | | | |battalion - | | | |1814] - | | | | - 94th |Scotch Brigade | 696 |Home |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 95th |Rifles | 2283 |Peninsular |2nd Home* - | | |Field Army* |[went to - | | | |Walcheren] - | | | |3rd Home - | | | |[only just - | | | |raised] - | | | | - 96th |None | 1400 |West Indies |Home - | | | | - 97th |Queen’s Germans | 907 |Peninsular |No 2nd - | | |Field Army |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 98th |None | 906 |Bermuda |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 99th |Prince of Wales’ | 696 |Bermuda |No 2nd - |Tipperary | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 100th |County of Dublin | 696 |Canada |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 101st |Duke of York’s | 906 |West Indies |No 2nd - |Irish | | |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 102nd |New South Wales | 906 |New South |No 2nd - | | |Wales |battalion - | | | |raised - | | | | - 103rd |None | 486 |Canada |No 2nd - | | | |battalion - | | | |raised - ---------+-----------------+--------------+-------------+------------- - - - Total. 1st 2nd 3rd and Junior Total. - Battalions. Battalions. Battalions. - At Home 25[334] 42[335] 3[336] 70 - Peninsula 11[337] 15 2 28 - Sicily and Malta 10 3 1 14 - East Indies 21 2 0 23 - West Indies 21 2 4 27 - Cape of Good Hope 5 0 0 5 - Canada and Nova Scotia 6 0 0 6 - New South Wales 2 0 0 2 - Gibraltar and Madeira 2 2 0 4 - --- - Total 179 - -A consideration of the prefixed table of “establishments” shows -the following results. Putting aside the regiments with many -battalions (the 1st, 14th, 27th, 60th, 95th), the remainder fall into -two-battalion and single-battalion corps. - -Of the 61 double-battalion regiments-- - - 9 were at a strength of 2250 or thereabouts.[338] - 17 were at a strength of 2031 or thereabouts.[339] - 16 were at a strength of 1820 or thereabouts.[340] - 12 were at a strength of 1610 or thereabouts.[341] - 7 were at a strength of under 1600.[342] - -All the regiments on the two higher establishments (with one exception) -had both battalions on active service in 1809, either one in the Indies -and one in Europe, or both in Europe. Hence it was necessary to keep -them at a very high figure. - -Those with 1820 or 1610 men were nearly all regiments which had one -battalion on active service and one on home service, though a very few -had both overseas (such as the 18th, 34th, 39th, 62nd); in such cases -the 2nd battalion, though on service, was very weak. - -The two-battalion corps with under 1600 men were almost invariably -regiments which had one battalion in the Indies, worked down to very -low numbers by disease, and had failed to keep up its strength (the -15th, 25th, 96th in the West, the 59th, 69th in the East Indies). - -The 37 single-battalion regiments stood on the following -establishments-- - - 6 were at a strength of 1126 or thereabouts.[343] - 13 were at a strength of 940 or thereabouts.[344] - 15 were at a strength of 700–730 or thereabouts.[345] - 3 were at a strength of under 600.[346] - -Those corps on the two higher establishments are either actually -serving, or are designated for immediate service abroad, and have -therefore their establishments fixed high. Those on the lower -establishments (730 or under) fall into two classes: either they are -regiments in the East or West Indies which have died down to a low -figure [_e.g._ 16th, 37th, 46th, 54th, 55th, 65th, 68th, 70th, 86th] -or they are battalions quartered in peaceful stations and not expected -to be sent on active service, [_e.g._ 41st, 99th, 100th, 103rd, in -Canada and Bermuda] or at home [74th, 75th, 77th, 85th, 94th]. All the -last-named five, on home service, were raised to a higher establishment -and sent to the front in 1810–12. - -It will be noted that of the one hundred and three 1st battalions, -or single-battalion regiments, a great many were not available, viz. -twenty-one in the East Indies, twenty-one in the West Indies (including -Bermuda), eleven in the Mediterranean Garrisons, five at the Cape of -Good Hope, six in Canada, two in (or bound for) New South Wales. There -were only twenty-five 1st battalions at home, and of these twenty -had served under Moore in the Corunna retreat and then went on the -Walcheren expedition, so that in 1809 they were unavailable. Three -more battalions which had not served under Moore had shared in the -same descent on the Scheldt (74th, 77th, 85th). There were actually -only two single-battalion corps which had neither gone to Corunna nor -to Walcheren and were available at home (75th and 94th).[347] In the -way of the strongly organized first battalions, therefore, there was -absolutely nil to send to Wellington in 1809 save Craufurd’s three -Light Infantry battalions, which though they had been with Moore in -January were back in the Peninsula by July (1/43rd, 1/52nd, 1/95th). - -It is easy to see, therefore, that there was the greatest possible -difficulty in finding battalions with which Wellesley’s Peninsular Army -could be reinforced. Of troops which had not gone to Walcheren there -were left in Great Britain only the 75th and 94th, with twenty-eight -2nd (or junior) battalions which had not joined in the expedition to -the Scheldt. These were almost without exception very weak units, the -first battalions of ten of these were in the Indies, then of five more -already in the Peninsula, all their strength was used up in keeping -their senior battalions full, of the remaining thirteen only two -(2/5th 2/34th, 2/38th), were strong enough to be sent to Portugal. The -reinforcements which Wellington was given in the autumn of 1809 and -the summer of 1810 were largely scraped up from foreign garrisons—the -1/7th from Nova Scotia, the 1/11th from Madeira, the 1/57th from -Gibraltar. But in 1810 Walcheren battalions began to come out, such -as the 3/1st, 1/9th, 1/50th, 1/71st, 1/79th, and to load Wellington’s -hospitals with ague-stricken convalescents. For later reinforcements -see Chapter VII. - - -ESTABLISHMENT OF CAVALRY IN 1809. - - --------------------+------+----------------------------- - 1st Dragoon Guards | 905 | Home - 2nd Dragoon Guards | 905 | Home - 3rd Dragoon Guards | 905 | Peninsular Field Army - 4th Dragoon Guards | 905 | Home - 5th Dragoon Guards | 905 | Home - 6th Dragoon Guards | 905 | Home - 7th Dragoon Guards | 905 | Home - 1st Dragoons | 1083 | Peninsular Field Army - 2nd Dragoons | 905 | Home - 3rd Dragoons | 905 | Home [went to Walcheren] - 4th Dragoons | 905 | Peninsular Field Army - 6th Dragoons | 905 | Home - 7th Hussars | 905 | *Home - 8th Light Dragoons | 720 | East Indies - 9th Light Dragoons | 905 | Home [went to Walcheren] - 10th Hussars | 905 | *Home - 11th Light Dragoons | 905 | Home - 12th Light Dragoons | 905 | Home [went to Walcheren] - 13th Light Dragoons | 905 | Home - 14th Light Dragoons | 905 | Peninsular Field Army - 15th Hussars | 905 | *Home - 16th Light Dragoons | 905 | Peninsular Field Army - 17th Light Dragoons | 940 | East Indies - 18th Hussars | 905 | *Home - 19th Light Dragoons | 905 | Home - 20th Light Dragoons | 905 | 1/2 Sicily and 1/2 Peninsula - 21st Light Dragoons | 905 | Cape of Good Hope - 22nd Light Dragoons | 928 | East Indies - 23rd Light Dragoons | 905 | Peninsular Field Army - 24th Light Dragoons | 928 | East Indies - 25th Light Dragoons | 940 | East Indies - --------------------+------+----------------------------- - -N.B.—Note that there was no 5th regiment of Dragoons in 1809. The corps -last bearing that number had been disbanded in 1799, and its successor -was not raised till 1858. - - -ESTABLISHMENT OF THE HOUSEHOLD TROOPS IN 1809. - - ----------------------+------+---------------------------- - 1st Life Guards | 416 | Home - 2nd Life Guards | 416 | Home - Royal Horse Guards | 654 | Home - 1st Foot Guards | 4619 | 1st Batt.* Home [went to - (3 batts.) | | Walcheren]; 2nd Batt. - | | Home; 3rd Batt.* Home - | | [went to Walcheren] - 2nd (Coldstream) Foot | 2887 | 1st Batt. Peninsular Field - Guards (2 batts.) | | Army; 2nd Batt. Home - 3rd Foot Guards | 2887 | 1st Batt. Peninsular Field - (2 batts.) | | Army; 2nd Batt. Home - ----------------------+------+---------------------------- - -N.B.—The Second Batts. Coldstream and 3rd Foot Guards both sent their -flank companies to Walcheren. The troops sent to Cadiz early in 1810 -were detachments, viz. 4 companies of the 2/1st Guards, 3 of the 2/2nd, -3 of the 2/3rd. - - -MISCELLANEOUS CORPS. - -In addition to the regular units shown in these lists, there are on -the estimates of 1809 twelve veteran battalions, with effectives -ranging from 693 to 1129, and eight garrison battalions, mostly with -an establishment of 906. Most of these were at home, but a few in the -Mediterranean garrisons. - -There were also the foreign corps of Meuron, de Roll, Watteville, -Dillon, _Chasseurs Britanniques_, Royal Malta, Royal Corsicans and -the Sicilian regiment, all in the Mediterranean, with the York Light -Infantry, York Rangers, and Royal West India Rangers in the West -Indies. These were all single battalion corps ranging from 1361 men -(de Roll) to 694 (York L. I.). The black regiments, eight West India -battalions with 1125 men each, could only be used in their own regions. - -Of the King’s German Legion there were at home the two Heavy Dragoon -Regiments with an establishment of 694 each, and the 2nd and 3rd -Hussars, with the same numbers. The 3rd Hussars were just back from -the Corunna Retreat: the 2nd went to Walcheren. Of the ten infantry -battalions, four (1st, 2nd, 5th, 7th Line) were with the Peninsular -Field Army, as was the 1st Hussars; four (3rd, 4th, 6th, 8th Line) were -in Sicily; 1st and 2nd Light battalions (just back from Corunna) were -at home, and went to Walcheren. Four battalions had establishments of -1062, six of 902, of all ranks. - - - - -APPENDIX II - -DIVISIONAL AND BRIGADE ORGANIZATION AND CHANGES. - -1809–1814. - -BY C. T. ATKINSON, M.A., FELLOW AND TUTOR OF EXETER COLLEGE, OXFORD. - - -[Sidenote: Changes in 1809] - -1809. - - On April 22, when Wellesley arrived the troops were brigaded as - follows:-- - - Cavalry. G.O.C., Cotton. 14th Light Dragoons, 16th Light - Dragoons, 2 squadrons 20th Light Dragoons, detachment 3rd - Hussars K.G.L.: Fane’s brigade (not at the Douro), 3rd Dragoon - Guards, 4th Dragoons. - - Guards’ Brigade (H. Campbell). 1st Coldstream, 1st 3rd Guards - (_i.e._ Scots), 1 co. 5/60th. - - 1st Brigade (Hill). 1/3rd, 2/48th, 2/66th, 1 co. 5/60th. - - 2nd Brigade (Mackenzie). 2/24th (attached), 3/27th, 2/31st, 1/45th. - - 3rd Brigade (Tilson). Headquarters and 5 cos. 5/60th, 2/87th, - 1/88th. - - 4th Brigade (Sontag). 97th, 2nd Detachments, 1 co. 5/60th. - - 5th Brigade (A. Campbell). 2/7th, 2/53rd, 1 co. 5/60th. - - 6th Brigade (R. Stewart). 29th, 1st Detachments. - - 7th Brigade (Cameron). 2/9th, 2/83rd, 1 co. 5/60th. - - K.G.L. (Murray, Langwerth and Drieberg). 1st, 2nd, 5th, and 7th - Line K.G.L., detachment Light Battalions K.G.L. - - The 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th Brigades each included a - Portuguese battalion. - - [N.B.—The “Battalions of Detachments” were composed of - convalescents and stragglers, left behind from the regiments - which had marched from Portugal under Sir John Moore in the - preceding autumn.] - - The organization in divisions dates from June 18. It was originally as - follows:-- - - _Cavalry._ G.O.C., Payne. A [Fane], 3rd Dragoon Guards, 4th - Dragoons; B [Cotton], 14th and 16th Light Dragoons; Unattached, - 2 squadrons 20th Light Dragoons, 23rd Light Dragoons, 1st - Hussars K.G.L., detachment 3rd Hussars K.G.L. - - _1st Division._ G.O.C., Sherbrooke. A [H. Campbell], 1st - Coldstream, 1st Scots; B [Cameron], 2/9th, 2/83rd; C - [Langwerth], 1st and 2nd Line K.G.L., detachment Light - Battalions K.G.L.; D [Löw], 5th and 7th Line K.G.L. - - _2nd Division._ G.O.C., Hill. A [Hill], 1/3rd, 2/48th, 3/66th; - B [R. Stewart], 29th, 1st Detachments. - - _3rd Division._ G.O.C., Mackenzie. A [Mackenzie] 3/27th, - 2/31st, 1/45th; B [Tilson], 5 companies 5/60th, 2/87th, 1/88th. - - _4th Division._ G.O.C., A. Campbell. A [A. Campbell], 2/7th, - 2/53rd; B [Sontag], 97th, 2nd Detachments. - - The detached companies of 5/60th at Talavera were with I A, I - B, II A, IV A, IV B. - - Subsequent changes were as follows:-- - - _Cavalry._ 20th Light Dragoons and detachment 3rd Hussars - K.G.L., left the Peninsula before the end of July. - - By June 21 a new brigade, C, was added, under G. Anson, - composed of 23rd Light Dragoons and 1st Hussars K.G.L. - - On November 1 Granby Calcroft was commanding A for Fane, absent. - - By November 24 1st Dragoons (who arrived at Lisbon in October) - replaced the 16th Light Dragoons in B, now under Slade, - as Cotton was assisting Payne in command of the division; - 16th Light Dragoons were transferred to C _vice_ 23rd Light - Dragoons, ordered home after their losses at Talavera. - - _1st Division._ 1/40th, from Seville, replaced 2/9th before - June 21, 2/9th going to Gibraltar and relieving 1/61st, who - joined before Talavera, on which 1/40th were transferred to - IV B. - - After Talavera 2/24th and 2/42nd were added to I B, 2/83rd - being sent down to Lisbon. - - At Talavera, H. Campbell was wounded, Stopford replacing him - in command of the division and brigade, but from November 8 - to December 15, Hulse had the brigade. Langwerth having been - killed at Talavera, Beck of 1st Line K.G.L. succeeded to his - brigade, but the two K.G.L. brigades were amalgamated under Löw - from November 1. - - _2nd Division._ By June 21 Tilson (from III B) had taken over - Hill’s own brigade. Before Talavera 1/48th (arrived at Lisbon - June 22, on being relieved at Gibraltar by 2/30th) had been - added to II B. - - In September, a new brigade, C, under Catlin Craufurd, was - added, composed of 2/28th, 2/34th, 2/39th, and about the same - time 2/31st (from III A) was added to II A. By November 1, - 1/57th (from Gibraltar) replaced 1st Detachments in II B, the - Battalions of Detachments having been broken up. - - From December 15 on II A was under command of Duckworth of - 2/48th. - - _3rd Division._ Tilson, moving to II A, was replaced by Donkin - (June 21). - - Before Talavera 2/24th replaced 3/27th (sent down to Lisbon) in - III A. - - Mackenzie was killed at Talavera, and the division passed - under the command of R. Craufurd, whose brigade, 1/43rd, - 1/52nd and 1/95th, arrived just too late for the battle, and - was apparently added to the division in place of Mackenzie’s - brigade which was amalgamated with Donkin’s. On September 15, - 2/87th was ordered down to Lisbon for garrison duty, 2/24th - being transferred to II B and 2/31st to II A about the same - time. - - In October, Donkin gave up his brigade, Mackinnon obtaining - command. - - _4th Division._ Myers of 2/7th seems to have commanded IV A for - A. Campbell. - - By Talavera 1/40th had been added to IV B, of which Kemmis had - taken command vice Sontag. - - At Talavera A. Campbell was wounded, and had to go home, the - division being without a definite G.O.C. till the arrival of - Lowry Cole in October. - - In September 1/11th (arrived at Lisbon from Madeira in August) - was added to IV A. On the Battalions of Detachments being sent - home (October), 3/27th, in garrison at Lisbon since after the - Douro, replaced the 2nd Battalion in IV B. - - -[Sidenote: Changes in 1810] - -1810. - - On January 1, the composition of the Army was as follows:-- - - _Cavalry._ G.O.C., Payne; Cotton, second in command. - - A [Fane], 3rd Dragoon Guards, 4th Dragoons; B [Slade], 1st - Dragoons, 14th Light Dragoons; C [G. Anson], 16th Light - Dragoons, 1st Hussars K.G.L. - - _1st Division._ G.O.C., Sherbrooke. A [Stopford], 1st - Coldstreams, 1st Scots; B [A. Cameron], 2/24th, 2/42nd, 1/61st; - C [Löw], 1st, 2nd, 5th, and 7th Line, K.G.L., detachment Light - Battalions, K.G.L. - - _2nd Division._ G.O.C., Hill. A [Duckworth, temporarily], - 1/3rd, 2/31st, 2/48th, 2/66th; B [R. Stewart], 29th, 1/48th, - 1/57th; C [C. Craufurd], 2/28th, 2/34th, 2/39th. - - _3rd Division._ G.O.C., R. Craufurd. A [R. Craufurd], 1/43rd, - 1/52nd, 1/95th; B [Mackinnon], 1/45th, 5/60th, 1/88th. - - _4th Division._ G.O.C., Cole. A [Myers acting for Cole], - 2/7th, 1/11th, 2/53rd; B [Kemmis] 3/27th, 1/40th, 97th; C - [Lightburne], 2/5th, 2/58th.[348] - -Subsequent changes were:-- - - _Cavalry._ Payne went home before June 1, Cotton obtaining sole - command from June 3. - - On April 1 the 13th Light Dragoons arrived at Lisbon, joining - the army in May, and being attached to Hill’s division, along - with four regiments of Portuguese cavalry, the whole under - Fane, who gave over his brigade to de Grey from May 13. Two - troops of the regiment went to Cadiz, but rejoined the regiment - in September. - - Before the end of the year Fane seems to have gone home ill. - - _1st Division._ On April 26 Cotton was posted to the command of - the division, _vice_ Sherbrooke, gone home ill, but gave place - to Spencer, June 3, on getting the Cavalry Division. - - In the “States” of March 8 to August 1, no brigadier is given - for I B. On August 4 Lord Blantyre (of 2/42nd) was appointed to - command I B “during the absence of Brigadier-General Cameron.” - Cameron was back in command from October 1, but on November 26 - he was invalided home, Blantyre probably commanding again. - - By the Orders of September 12, 1/79th (just arrived from - Cadiz), was posted to I B _vice_ 1/61st, to be transferred to a - new brigade to form part of the 1st Division. These orders were - suspended from September 14, and at Bussaco 1/7th (arrived from - Halifax before end of July), and 1/79th formed a brigade (I D) - under Pakenham. - - On October 6, orders were given for the transfer of Pakenham’s - brigade to the 4th Division, the exchange between the 1/61st - and 1/79th having been carried out previously, and a new - brigade was added under Erskine, comprising 1/50th (arrived - September 24), 1/71st (arrived September 26), 1/92nd (arrived - in October, before the 6th), and 1 company 3/95th. - - _2nd Division._ On June 20 Leith was appointed to command - “Tilson’s brigade,” and to command the division “under Hill,” - but in the “State” of July 8 his name appears as commanding - the brigade composed of 3/1st, 1/9th, and 2/38th. On August 8 - orders were issued to W. Stewart to take command of Tilson’s - brigade and of the division under Hill. In November Hill went - on sick leave. - - Leith’s name ceases to appear in the returns as commanding - II A from July 8, and W. Stewart’s name appears in his place - from July 27. When Stewart commanded the division, Colborne of - 2/66th had the brigade. C. Craufurd died in September, and at - Bussaco Wilson of 2/39th commanded II C. On September 30 Lumley - was posted to command it. - - Before September 1 R. Stewart had gone home ill, and at - Bussaco Inglis (of 1/57th) commanded II B. On October 8 Hoghton - was posted to it. - - _3rd Division._ From January 8 on 5/60th no longer appear in - the Returns as belonging to the division, and their place in - the brigade was taken by 74th, who arrived at Lisbon February - 8, and are mentioned in Orders on February 22 as in III B. - - On February 22 the division was reorganized, R. Craufurd’s - brigade becoming, with two battalions of Caçadores, the - Light Division. Mackinnon’s brigade now became III A, and - Lightburne’s brigade was transferred from the 4th Division and - became III B. The headquarters and three companies 5/60th were - posted to Lightburne’s brigade, the remaining companies having - been posted to I A, I B, II A, II B, II C, IV A, IV B. At the - same time a Portuguese brigade composed of the 9th and 21st - Regiments (under Harvey) was added to the division. - - At Bussaco Champlemond was in command of the Portuguese - brigade, by October 29 Sutton had it, Champlemond being wounded - at Bussaco. - - On September 12 2/83rd was posted to III B, 2/88th having - arrived from Cadiz to relieve them September 4. Hurrying to - the front they joined their brigade before Bussaco. When they - did join, 2/58th was detached from III B for garrison duty at - Lisbon. 94th (arrived from Cadiz September 20), were added to - III B on October 6, and on October 10 Colville was posted to - command the brigade _vice_ Lightburne, who went home. - - _4th Division._ On the transfer of Lightburne’s brigade to - the 3rd Division the other two brigades exchanged places, - Kemmis’ becoming IV A, and being Cole’s brigade, but under the - immediate command of Kemmis. A. Campbell, who had rejoined, - took command of his old brigade. - - The 3rd and 15th Portuguese were added to the division in - February, as a brigade under Collins. - - At Bussaco the Portuguese brigade consisted of the 11th and - 23rd, the 3rd and 15th having been removed to the 5th Division. - - On October 6 A. Campbell’s brigade was removed from the - division to become the nucleus of the newly-formed 6th - Division, its place being taken by Pakenham’s from the 1st - Division, _i.e._ 1/7th, 1/61st, to which the Brunswick Oels - Light Infantry (arrived Lisbon September 17) were added. - - On November 12 the Brunswick Oels were removed to the Light - Division, but one company was posted to IV B, two more being - detached to provide the newly-formed 5th Division, with extra - light troops. Their place in IV B was taken by the newly - arrived 1/23rd from Halifax, Nova Scotia. - - On November 17 2/7th and 1/61st were ordered to exchange, IV B - thus becoming the Fusilier Brigade. - - _Light Division._ Formed on February 22 by the removal of - R. Craufurd’s brigade from the 3rd Division, the 1st and - 3rd Portuguese Caçadores being added to it. On August 4 it - was broken up into two brigades, as follows: A [Beckwith of - 1/95th] 1/43rd, 4 companies 1/95th, 1st Caçadores; B [Barclay - of 1/52nd] 1/52nd, 4 companies 1/95th, 3rd Caçadores. Barclay - having been wounded at Bussaco, Wynch of 1/4th got the brigade - (in Orders of November 14th). - - A company of 2/95th (from Cadiz) was added to A before October - 1. On November 12 nine companies Brunswick Oels joined B. - - _5th Division._ Officially this division first appears in the - “State” of August 8, when the 3/1st, 1/9th, and 2/38th,[349] - are first called the “Fifth Division,” a Portuguese brigade, - Spry’s (_i.e._ 3rd and 15th Line), being added, and Leith being - G.O.C. - - On August 4 J. S. Barns of 3/1st was appointed to command the - British brigade, being superseded by Hay September 30. - - On October 6 orders were issued that Leith should command - the 5th Division, and that it should be composed of - Brigadier-General Hay’s brigade, a brigade made up of 1/4th - (from England, they first appear in the “State” of November - 15), 2/30th (from Cadiz), and 2/44th (from Cadiz), and Spry’s - Portuguese. - - On November 5 Dunlop was posted to V B, hitherto under its - senior battalion commander. - - On November 12 a company of the Brunswick Oels was posted to - each of the British brigades. - - _6th Division._ Ordered to be formed October 6, by taking A. - Campbell’s brigade out of the 4th Division and adding Eben’s - Portuguese (_i.e._ 8th Line and Lusitanian Legion) to it: A. - Campbell being G.O.C. - - On November 14, Hulse was posted to A. Campbell’s brigade. - - On November 17 1/61st from IV B exchanged with 2/7th. - - In addition to the Portuguese brigades attached to the 3rd, - 4th, 5th, and 6th Divisions there were at least five others, - two of which, the 4th under Archibald Campbell (=4th and 10th - Line), and 2nd under Fonseca (=2nd and 14th Line) formed a - division under Hamilton, which acted throughout under Hill. - Wellington says that he intended to organize this division like - the rest, but the heavy losses at Albuera and the consequent - necessity of reforming the 2nd Division made it impossible for - him to carry out his resolve. [Cf. _Wellington Dispatches_, - viii. 111.] - - The remaining brigades were the 1st (Pack’s), consisting of the - 1st and 16th Line and 4th Caçadores, the 5th (A. Campbell’s), - 6th and 18th Line, and 6th Caçadores; the 6th (Coleman’s), 7th - and 19th Line and 2nd Caçadores. On the formation of the 7th - Division in March, 1811, Coleman’s brigade was posted to it, - the other two remaining unattached. - - The 12th and 13th Line and 5th Caçadores seem to have formed - yet another brigade under Bradford, but in October the 13th - Line was in garrison at Abrantes. - - Spry’s brigade ranked at the 3rd, Eben’s as the 7th, Sutton’s - as the 8th, and Collins’ as the 9th. - - -[Sidenote: State of January 1, 1811] - -1811. - - On January 1 the Army was organized as follows:-- - - _Cavalry._ G.O.C., Cotton. A [de Grey], 3rd Dragoon Guards, 4th - Dragoons; B [Slade], 1st Dragoons, 14th Light Dragoons; C [G. - Anson], 16th Light Dragoons, 1st Hussars, K.G.L.; unbrigaded, - 13th Light Dragoons. - - _1st Division._ G.O.C., Spencer. A [Stopford], 1st Coldstream, - 1st Scots, 1 company 5/60th; B [? Blantyre, acting], 2/24th, - 2/42nd, 1/79th, 1 company 5/60th; C [Löw], 1st, 2nd, 5th, - and 7th Line, K.G.L., detachment Light Battalions, K.G.L.; D - [Erskine], 1/50th, 1/71st, 1/92nd, 1 company 3/95th. - - _2nd Division._ G.O.C., W. Stewart. A [Colborne], 1/3rd, - 2/31st, 2/48th, 2/66th, 1 company 5/60th; B [Hoghton], 29th, - 1/48th, 1/57th, 1 company 5/60th; C [Lumley], 2/28th, 2/34th, - 2/39th, 1 company 5/60th. - - _3rd Division._ G.O.C., Picton. A [Mackinnon], 1/45th, 1/74th, - 1/88th; B [Colville], 2/5th, 3 companies 5/60th, 2/83rd, 94th; - also Sutton’s Portuguese. - - _4th Division._ G.O.C., Cole. A [Kemmis], 3/27th, 1/40th, 97th, - 1 company 5/60th; B [Pakenham], 1/7th, 2/7th, 1/23rd, 1 Company - Brunswick Oels; also Collins’ Portuguese. - - _5th Division._ G.O.C., Leith. A [Hay], 3/1st, 1/9th, 2/38th, - 1 company Brunswick Oels; B [Dunlop], 1/4th, 2/30th, 2/44th, 1 - company Brunswick Oels; also Spry’s Portuguese. - - _6th Division._ G.O.C., A. Campbell. A [Hulse], 1/11th, 2/53rd, - 1/61st, 1 company 5/60th; also Eben’s Portuguese. - - _Light Division._ G.O.C., R. Craufurd. A [Beckwith], 1/43rd, 4 - companies 1/95th, 1 company 2/95th, 1st Caçadores; B [Wynch], - 1/52nd, 4 companies 1/95th, Brunswick Oels, 3rd Caçadores. - - _Portuguese._ Hamilton’s Division, brigades under Fonseca (2nd) - and Archibald Campbell (4th). Unattached brigades under Pack - (1st), Ashworth, late A. Campbell (5th), Coleman (6th), and - Bradford (10th). - - Subsequent changes were:-- - - _Cavalry._ Cotton went home January 15, returning April 22; - in his absence Slade commanded the division until March 7, - when Erskine seems to have been placed in command of both - the Cavalry and the Light Division. While Slade had the - division, his brigade was apparently under Hawker of 14th Light - Dragoons, and from March 1 to May 15, G. Anson being absent, - Arentschildt of 1st K.G.L. Hussars, commanded C. - - On March 19 Long was posted to command the cavalry of the - force usually under Hill, but commanded by Beresford during - Hill’s absence. At Albuera Lumley (of II C) was in command - of Beresford’s cavalry, Long’s conduct not having given - satisfaction to the Marshal. On May 11 Erskine was appointed to - command “the cavalry south of the Tagus.” - - On June 13 a new brigade, D, was formed under Long, composed of - 13th Light Dragoons and 2nd Hussars K.G.L., two squadrons of - which had landed April 8. On June 18 the 11th Light Dragoons - (arrived June 1) replaced the 13th, transferred to Slade’s - brigade. - - On June 19 a reorganization of the cavalry in two divisions was - ordered, as follows:-- - - 1st Cavalry Division. G.O.C., Cotton. B [Slade], 1st Dragoons, - 13th and 14th Light Dragoons; C [G. Anson], 16th Light - Dragoons, 1st Hussars, K.G.L.; also Madden’s Portuguese. - - 2nd Cavalry Division. G.O.C., Erskine. A [de Grey], 3rd Dragoon - Guards, 4th Dragoons; D [Long], 11th Light Dragoons, 2nd - Hussars, K.G.L. - - On July 19 another reorganization took place, the final result - being as follows:-- - - 1st Cavalry Division. G.O.C., Cotton. B [Slade], 1st Dragoons, - 12th Light Dragoons (arrived July 1), vice 13th (to C) and - 14th (to D); C [G. Anson], 13th and 16th Light Dragoons; - E [V. Alten, a new brigade], 11th Light Dragoons (from D) - and 1st Hussars, K.G.L. (from C); Madden’s Portuguese. - - 2nd Cavalry Division. A [de Grey], 3rd Dragoon Guards, 4th - Dragoons; D [Long], 14th Light Dragoons, 2nd Hussars, K.G.L. - - On August 1, 9th Light Dragoons (newly arrived) were posted - to Long’s brigade, together with 13th Light Dragoons, which - exchanged from C with 14th. - - On August 30, a new brigade, F, was added, comprising 4th - Dragoon Guards, arrived August 15, and 3rd Dragoons, arrived - before August 20, its commander being Le Marchant. By October - 1, 5th Dragoon Guards had been added to this brigade. - - On October 5 de Grey’s brigade was transferred to the 1st - Cavalry Division, to which Le Marchant’s was attached by Orders - of November 8, the Portuguese brigade being struck off that - division. - - From December 8 on the States do not give any G.O.C. for the - 2nd Cavalry Division. - - _1st Division._ On January 23 Nightingale was posted to I B: on - February 6 Howard obtained I D, when Erskine was transferred to - the command of the 5th Division. On June 8 H. Campbell’s name - is given in the “State” as in command of I A, Stopford being - transferred to IV B (in Orders for this June 18). Nightingale - departing to Bengal before June 25 his brigade had no permanent - commander till July 28, when Stopford got it. - - Owing to the heavy losses of the 2nd Division at Albuera and - its consequent reconstruction, Howard’s brigade was transferred - to it on June 6, and at the same time the detachment of the - Light Battalions of the K.G.L., hitherto in I C, rejoined those - battalions, which had been posted to VII A. - - On June 26 orders were issued for the 7th Line K.G.L., to go - home, its rank and file being drafted into the other three - battalions. On July 21 1/26th were added to I B, having - recently arrived from England. - - On August 9, Graham was appointed to command the division, - Spencer having gone home in July, he received leave July 25. - From December 1 onward I B appears in the “States” as having no - G.O.C. - - _2nd Division._ The heavy losses at Albuera led to the - reorganization of the division, detailed in Orders June 6. - Howard’s brigade of the 1st Division was transferred to the - 2nd Division, becoming II A. The remainder of the brigades - of Colborne and Hoghton (who was killed) were formed into a - Provisional Battalion, less 1/48th and 2/48th; 1/48th, to which - the rank and file of 2/48th were drafted (the cadre of 2/48th - going home), was transferred to IV B. - - This Provisional Battalion was placed in Lumley’s brigade, - of which Abercromby (of 2/28th) had had temporary command at - Albuera, while Lumley was in charge of the cavalry. At the same - time, Ashworth’s Portuguese brigade was definitely attached to - it: this was the 5th Brigade, which had been under A. Campbell - in October, 1810, but had come under Ashworth by March 11; it - comprised the 6th and 18th Line and 6th Caçadores. Cf. also - _Wellington Dispatches_, viii, 566, and S. D. vii. 135. - - Before the end of May Hill returned and took over command - of the division, as well as of the whole force commanded by - Beresford at Albuera. - - On July 22 1/28th (newly arrived from Gibraltar) was posted to - Lumley’s brigade. - - On August 7 orders were issued for 1/3rd and 1/57th to resume - their separate formations, large drafts having arrived from - their second battalions in England. The division was again - formed in three brigades, Howard’s being II A, and 1/3rd, - 1/57th, and the Provisional Battalion, [_i.e._ 29th (3 - companies), 2/31st (4 companies) and 2/66th (3 companies)] - forming II B, apparently under Inglis of 1/57th, while 1/28th, - 2/28th, 2/34th, and 2/39th under Lumley formed II C. - - On August 21 2/28th was drafted into 1/28th, and sent home, - and the company 3/95th, hitherto in Howard’s brigade, were - transferred to Beckwith’s brigade of the Light Division, being - replaced in II A by a company of 5/60th, there being three with - the division. - - On September 21 Byng was posted to command II B, and on October - 9 Wilson was appointed to command II C, Lumley having gone home - sick early in August. - - On October 3 orders were issued for 29th to go home to recruit; - on October 20 1/39th, just arrived from Sicily, was added to II - C, 2/39th being drafted into it and sent home by Orders issued - December 17. - - _3rd Division._ Orders of March 5 direct the transfer of the - headquarter companies 5/60th to III A, 2/88th, on garrison duty - at Lisbon since September 4, 1810, being added to III B. On - July 10, 2/88th was ordered to be drafted into 1/88th, and the - cadre sent home. - - On July 22 the 77th were added to III B. - - From July 1 to October 31 Mackinnon was absent from his - brigade, ill, Wallace of 1/88th commanding it in his place. - - On December 22 Colville was transferred to the command of the - 4th Division, in Cole’s absence on leave, J. Campbell of the - 94th getting III B. - - Champlemond had the Portuguese brigade on March 19; but by - Fuentes Power had it. - - _4th Division._ By February 1 the headquarters and 9 companies - Brunswick Oels had been added to IV A, having been removed from - the Light Division, but on the formation of the 7th Division - (March 5), they were removed to it. - - On January 23 Houston was appointed to IV B _vice_ Pakenham, - but left the brigade again March 5, on being appointed to - command the 7th Division: Myers would seem to have commanded IV - B till Albuera, where he was killed. On June 18 Stopford was - appointed to command IV B, but was transferred to I B on July - 28, Pakenham again getting IV B. From November 15 onwards the - “States” do not give any brigadier for IV B, but it continued - to be described as “Pakenham’s.” - - After Albuera 2/7th was drafted into 1/7th, the remnants being - sent home June 26; 1/48th from the 2nd Division was added to IV - B June 6. On October 3, the 97th, a single battalion regiment, - was ordered home in consequence of its severe losses. - - On December 22 Colville was appointed to command the division, - Cole having gone home ill. - - At Albuera Harvey was in command of the Portuguese brigade of - the division, to which 1st battalion Loyal Lusitanian Legion - had been added on March 14: by September this unit was renamed - 7th Caçadores, the brigade was then again under Collins, who at - Albuera had led a provisional brigade from the Elvas garrison - [5th Line, 5th Caçadores]. - - _5th Division._ From February 1 to February 6 the division was - without a G.O.C., Leith being absent: on February 6, Erskine - was appointed to command it, but was transferred to the command - of the advanced guard (the Light Division and cavalry), from - March 7 to April 22. During this period Dunlop seems to have - commanded the division, Egerton of 2/44th commanding V B. - - On May 11 Erskine was appointed to the 2nd Cavalry Division, - and Dunlop again had temporary command of the division until - October 2, when G. T. Walker was appointed to command his - brigade. By December 1 Leith was again in command of the - division. - - On March 14 the 2nd Battalion Loyal Lusitanian Legion had been - added to Spry’s Portuguese brigade. By September it had been - renamed 8th Caçadores. - - _6th Division._ Orders of March 5 directed the addition to the - division of a new brigade under Burne (of 1/36th), comprising - 2nd and 1/36th. - - It seems to have been intended to put the Brunswick Oels into - the 6th Division, but on the formation of the 7th Division - (March 5), they were put in C. Alten’s brigade. - - On July 21 1/32nd, arrived at Lisbon before July 8, was posted - to VI B. - - A. Campbell leaving for India in November, the division was - without a definite G.O.C. till the end of the year, Burne - commanding it temporarily. - - On March 14 the Loyal Lusitanian Legion was removed from the - Portuguese brigade of the division, and distributed as Caçador - battalions to the 4th and 5th Divisions, being replaced by the - 12th Line, formerly in Bradford’s brigade. At Fuentes Madden - commanded the brigade. - - _Light Division._ Wynch dying January 6, the 2nd Brigade was - without a commander till February 7, when Drummond (of 1/52nd) - was appointed to it. Craufurd having gone home on leave before - February 8, the division had no G.O.C., but was under Erskine - from March 7 on, together with the Cavalry who also were in the - advanced guard. - - On March 5 2/52nd, newly arrived at Lisbon, was added to - Drummond’s brigade. - - R. Craufurd returned April 22 and took over the division from - Erskine. - - By August 1 Beckwith had been invalided home, Andrew Barnard of - the 95th commanding the brigade in his place. - - On August 21 the headquarters and four companies of the 3/95th, - which had gone out to Cadiz in 1810, arrived at Lisbon, and - were added to the 1st Brigade, the company 3/95th hitherto with - II A being also added to the same brigade. - - Drummond dying before September 8, Vandeleur was appointed - to the vacant brigade on September 30. By October 1 another - company 2/95th had been added to the 1st Brigade. - - _7th Division._ Orders were issued on March 5 for the formation - of this division, to be composed of two British brigades - under C. Alten and Long, and Coleman’s Portuguese, _i.e._ - 7th and 19th Line and 2nd Caçadores. The composition of the - British brigades is not given, but General Orders say that - the Brunswick Oels should be in Alten’s brigade, and the - Chasseurs Britanniques (arrived at Lisbon from Cadiz, January - 28) in Long’s. The other regiments in the division were 51st - (arrived during February), 85th (arrived March 4), which were - in Long’s brigade, and the 1st and 2nd Light Battalions, - K.G.L., in Alten’s. These last only landed on March 21, and - did not join the division till it came down with Wellington - from Almeida to the Guadiana Valley for the second siege of - Badajoz. Till then they had been attached to the force under - Beresford: Schwertfeger (_Geschichte der K.G.L._, i. 317) says - the battalions formed part of the 2nd Division, but this does - not seem accurate. As they had no casualties at the siege of - Badajoz, in which the 7th Division suffered severely, one may - presume that they finally joined the division after the siege - was raised. - - Thus the British brigade (at first there was only one) was - 51st, 85th, Chasseurs Britanniques, Brunswick Oels. On March - 31 Sontag was posted to it _vice_ Long, removed to command - Beresford’s cavalry, March 19. - - On July 19 68th (just arrived) was posted to VII B. - - Houston was invalided home before August 1, Sontag commanding - the division. By October he too was invalided (his A.D.C. - received orders to rejoin his regiment on October 29). Alten - was in temporary command, C. Halkett commanding his brigade. - VII B was without a G.O.C. from October 15 till de Bernewitz - got it on December 23. - - On October 3 85th (a single-battalion regiment) was ordered to - go home to recruit. - - Le Cor was posted to Coleman’s brigade on March 14; at Fuentes - Doyle had it. - - _Portuguese._ No changes seem to have taken place in Hamilton’s - division, or in Pack’s brigade, but the other unattached - brigade was under McMahon in September, and included the 13th - and 22nd Line and 5th Caçadores, the 12th Line having been - transferred to the 6th Division. - - -[Sidenote: Organization on January 1, 1812] - -1812. - - On January 1 the organization of the Army was as follows:-- - - _Cavalry._ 1st Division. G.O.C., Cotton. B [Slade], 1st - Dragoons, 12th Light Dragoons; C [no G.O.C., G. Anson absent], - 14th and 16th Light Dragoons; E [Cuming of 11th Light Dragoons - in absence of V. Alten], 11th Light Dragoons, 1st Hussars, - K.G.L.; A [no G.O.C., de Grey absent], 3rd Dragoon Guards, 4th - Dragoons; F [Le Marchant], 4th and 5th Dragoon Guards, 3rd - Dragoons. - - _Cavalry._ 2nd Division. No G.O.C.; D [Long], 9th and 13th - Light Dragoons, 2nd Hussars, K.G.L. - - _1st Division._ G.O.C., Graham. A [H. Campbell], 1st - Coldstreams, 1st Scots, 1 company 5/60th; B [? Blantyre for - Stopford], 2/24th, 1/26th, 2/42nd, 1/79th, 1 company 5/60th; C - [Löw], 1st, 2nd, and 5th Line, K.G.L. - - _2nd Division._ G.O.C., Hill. A [Howard], 1/50th, 1/71st, - 1/92nd 1 company 5/60th; B [Byng], 1/3rd, 1/57th, 1st - Provisional Battalion (i.e. 2/31st and 2/66th), 1 company - 5/60th; C [Wilson], 1/28th, 2/34th, 1/39th, 1 company 5/60th; - also Ashworth’s Portuguese. - - _3rd Division._ G.O.C., Picton. A [Mackinnon], 1/45th, - Headquarters 5/60th, 74th, 1/88th; B [J. Campbell for - Colville], 2/5th, 77th, 2/83rd, 94th; also Palmeirim’s - Portuguese. - - _4th Division._ G.O.C., Colville (for Cole). A [Kemmis], - 3/27th, 1/40th, 1 company 5/60th; B [? Pakenham], 1/7th, - 1/23rd, 1/48th, 1 company Brunswick Oels; also Collins’ - Portuguese. - - _5th Division._ G.O.C., Leith. A [Hay], 3/1st, 1/9th, 2/38th, - 1 company Brunswick Oels; B [Walker], 1/4th, 2/30th, 2/44th, 1 - company Brunswick Oels; also Spry’s Portuguese. - - _6th Division._ No G.O.C., Burne in temporary charge. A - [Hulse], 1/11th, 2/53rd, 1/61st, 1 company 5/60th; B [Burne], - 2nd, 1/32nd, 1/36th; also Madden’s [?] Portuguese. - - _7th Division._ No G.O.C., Alten in temporary charge. A [C. - Halkett for Alten], 1st and 2nd Light Battalions, K.G.L., - Brunswick Oels; B [de Bernewitz], 51st, 68th, Chasseurs - Britanniques: also Coleman’s Portuguese. - - _Light Division._ G.O.C., R. Craufurd. A [? Barnard], 1/43rd, 4 - companies 1/95th, 2 companies 2/95th, 5 companies 3/95th, 1st - Caçadores; B [Vandeleur], 1/52nd, 2/52nd, 4 companies 1/95th, - 3rd Caçadores. - - _Portuguese._ Hamilton’s division, with brigades under Fonseca - and Arch. Campbell. Unattached brigades under Pack and McMahon. - - Subsequent changes were:-- - - _Cavalry._ On January 1 the 1st and 2nd Dragoons, K.G.L., under - Bock arrived at Lisbon: they remained near there till March 12, - joining the army at Estremoz March 23, and being reckoned as - the 2nd Brigade (= G) of the 2nd Cavalry Division. - - By January 8 V. Alten was again in command of his brigade. - - Several changes took place under orders issued January 29; the - 3rd and 4th Dragoon Guards were posted to Slade’s brigade, from - which the 12th Light Dragoons were removed to G. Anson’s, the - 4th Dragoons replaced the 4th Dragoon Guards in Le Marchant’s, - and de Grey’s brigade disappeared. F. Ponsonby of the 12th - Light Dragoons took command of C in Anson’s absence. - - By April 8 Erskine had resumed command of the 2nd Cavalry - Division, to which Slade’s brigade was transferred April 14, - Bock’s joining the 1st Division. - - On July 1, an exchange was ordered between the 11th and 14th - Light Dragoons: G. Anson, who had resumed command of his - brigade, having 11th, 12th and 16th Light Dragoons, V. Alten - 14th Light Dragoons and 1st Hussars, K.G.L. - - At Salamanca Cotton was wounded, and Le Marchant killed. While - Cotton was disabled, Bock commanded the Cavalry, de Jonquières - having his brigade. W. Ponsonby, of 5th Dragoon Guards, - succeeded to Le Marchant’s brigade (by orders of July 23). - Cotton rejoined before October 15, but had to go home again - in December invalided. From August 1 V. Alten was absent, but - rejoined by the middle of September. - - By Orders of October 17, 2nd Hussars, K.G.L., were transferred - to V. Alten’s brigade. - - _1st Division._ Stopford resumed command of I B before February - 1, but was gone again by April 8. On May 7 Wheatley was - appointed to command the brigade until Stopford’s return. - - 1/26th, being too sickly for field service, was out of I B - before March 8, being sent down to Lisbon, and thence to - Gibraltar to relieve 1/82nd. Their place in I B was taken by - 1/42nd, just arrived from England and posted to I B April 23. - On May 19 2/42nd was ordered home, drafting its rank and file - into 1/42nd. 2/58th was posted to I B by Orders of April 2; - on June 1 its transfer to V B was ordered, but “orders will - hereafter be given as to the regiment joining the brigade.” It - seems to have remained with I B till after the retreat from - Burgos. - - Graham going home ill July 6, H. Campbell was appointed to - command the division, Fermor getting I A. - - Wheatley died September 1, Stirling (of 1/42nd) being appointed - to I B September 11. - - On October 11 E. Paget was posted to command the division, but - he was taken prisoner November 17, his place being taken by W. - Stewart, who had just returned to the Peninsula. - - After the retreat from Burgos the division was reorganized. A - new brigade of Guards was added, composed of 1/1st (Grenadier) - Guards, who arrived at Corunna from England October 1 and - joined the army on the Carrion October 24, and 3/1st Guards, - who had been at Cadiz, and came up to Madrid with Skerrett’s - column. This was ordered October 17, but cannot have been - carried out till later. On November 10 Howard was transferred - from II A to command this brigade. On November 11 Stirling’s - brigade was ordered to be removed to the 6th Division, the - company of 5/60th attached to it remaining in the 1st Division. - On December 6 the 1st and 2nd Light Battalions, K.G.L., were - removed from VII A to the K.G.L. brigade of the 1st Division. - - _2nd Division._ In Orders of April 14, Tilson-Chowne (formerly - Tilson) was appointed to command the division, “under Hill,” - but though present at Almaraz in May does not seem to have been - present to the end of the year. Howard being transferred to the - 1st Division, November 10, Cadogan (of 1/71st) took command of - II A. - - _3rd Division._ At Ciudad Rodrigo Mackinnon was killed (January - 19), his brigade going to Kempt—in Orders February 8. - - At Badajoz Picton and Kempt were wounded (April 6), Wallace - taking over Kempt’s brigade, and also having temporary command - of the division when Picton was disabled: Forbes (of 1/45th) - then commanded III A. - - After the fall of Badajoz 77th (a single battalion regiment) - was sent down to Lisbon, being much reduced. - - On June 28 Pakenham was appointed to command “Colville’s - brigade in the 3rd Division,” _i.e._ III B. At Salamanca he - commanded the division, Picton having gone sick again, Wallace - and J. Campbell having the brigades. - - 1/5th, which arrived in May, was posted to III B June 1, both - battalions were at Salamanca, but on July 27 2/5th was drafted - into 1/5th, the skeleton going home in October. - - By Orders of October 17 2/87th, which had come up from - Cadiz with Skerrett, was posted to III B, then still called - “Colville’s.” - - Wallace was invalided home after the retreat from Burgos. - - Pakenham was to retain command of the division till the return - of “Colville or some other” (_W. D._, v. 399), his name does - not appear in the States as commanding III B after November - 1: Colville apparently came back before the end of the year: - _D. N. B._ says in October. - - On April 8 Power took over the Portuguese brigade, Champlemond, - who had it _vice_ Palmeirim by March 17, having been wounded at - Badajoz: 12th Caçadores were added to it on April 8. - - _4th Division._ On February 9, Bowes was appointed to command - “the brigade late under Pakenham,” _i.e._ IV B. In April - Colville was wounded at Badajoz, and the division was without a - G.O.C. till Cole returned—before July 8. - - At Salamanca (July 22), Cole was wounded, and was absent in - consequence till October 15. In Cole’s absence W. Anson, - who was appointed to IV A April 9, would have commanded the - division. The vacancy in IV A was caused by the departure - of Kemmis—before April 1: at Badajoz Harcourt (of 1/40th) - commanded IV A. - - Bowes was transferred to the 6th Division May 2, and it would - appear that Ellis (of 1/23rd) commanded IV B temporarily. He - certainly was in charge of it at Salamanca, and apparently kept - it till Skerrett took charge of it. It was then still described - as “Pakenham’s,” as was also the case as late as November 28. - Skerrett was appointed to it on October 17, but his force from - Cadiz only joined Hill on October 26, and the arrangements - ordered on October 17 can hardly have been carried out at once. - - Skerrett’s brigade (3/1st Guards, 2/47th, 2/87th and 2 - companies 2/95th) seems to have acted with IV after joining - Hill’s force, but was broken up when operations ceased. - - Orders of October 17 directed 1/82nd, which had come up from - Gibraltar in June and was with the 4th Division at Madrid, to - join IV B, but the battalion was transferred to VII A by Orders - of November 28, the 20th which arrived in December being posted - to IV B instead. On 1/82nd joining, 1/48th was transferred to - IV A. - - On December 6 the 2nd Provisional Battalion (_i.e._ 2nd and - 1/53rd) was posted to IV A. - - By Salamanca Stubbs had taken over command of the Portuguese - Brigade, which had been under Harvey by March 17 and at the - siege of Badajoz. - - _5th Division._ At Badajoz Walker was wounded (April 6): his - brigade had no regular G.O.C. till Pringle was appointed to it - June 28. - - On May 10 2/4th, arrived at Lisbon during April, was posted - to V B. In June 1/38th came out and was present at Salamanca, - apparently with V A, but it only appears as part of that - brigade in the “States” of August 8 and afterwards. - - Orders of June 1 directed 2/58th to join V B, but the battalion - seems to have been with I B till reorganized as part of the 3rd - Provisional Battalion in December. - - Hay was absent from June 8, Greville of 1/38th commanding the - brigade till July 31, when Hulse was transferred to it. Hulse - must have also commanded the division, as Leith was wounded - at Salamanca and invalided home. Hulse dying (September 6), - Pringle commanded the division, until Oswald was appointed to - it (October 25), when Pringle reverted to his brigade, of which - Brooke (of 4th) had been in command. - - Orders of June 18 directed 1/9th to exchange with 2/30th and - 2/44th, but these were cancelled June 28. E. Barnes was in - Orders to command V A October 28, but seems to have been with - the brigade at Villa Muriel three days earlier. On December - 6 he was transferred to VII A. Hay appears to have returned - before December 31. - - On December 6 Orders directed the drafting 2/4th into 1/4th - and 2/38th into 1/38th, the skeletons being sent home, also - for forming 2/30th and 2/44th into a Provisional Battalion, - the 4th. By Orders of October 17 2/47th of Skerrett’s column - had been posted to V B, which was then described as Walker’s - brigade. - - _6th Division._ On February 9 H. Clinton was appointed to - command the division. - - By April 1 VI B was without a brigadier: Bowes was appointed - to it May 2, but he was killed in the attack on the Salamanca - forts (June 24). On this Hinde, of 32nd, commanded the brigade, - being appointed definitely to it September 30, but ante-dated - to June. - - On Hulse being transferred to V A, July 31, VI A was without a - brigadier, Bingham, of 2/53rd, being actually in command, until - the amalgamation of the two brigades by Orders of November - 11. At the same time Stirling’s brigade was transferred from - the 1st Division to the 6th, 1/91st, which arrived at Corunna - October 8, being added to it by Orders of November 28—it - actually joined December 14. - - On December 6 orders were issued for the formation of 2nd and - 2/53rd as the 2nd Provisional Battalion, and of 2/24th, and - 2/58th as the 3rd Provisional Battalion, and for their transfer - to IV A and VII A respectively. - - The Portuguese Brigade was under Eben till April 30, when the - Conde de Rezende took command. It was joined by 9th Caçadores - on April 10. Rezende was invalided in November, and succeeded - by Madden. - - _7th Division._ On May 2 Alten was transferred to command the - Light Division: John Hope being given command of the 7th. - Halkett of 2nd Light Battalion, K.G.L. seems to have commanded - VII A, though in the “States” no brigadier is named from May 2 - till December 6, when E. Barnes was appointed to it. - - Hope having to quit the army on account of his health September - 23, the division had no G.O.C. till October 25, when Lord - Dalhousie was appointed to it, having been put on the Staff of - the Army September 12. - - On November 28, 1/6th, newly arrived from England, was added to - VII A, then called “Colonel Halkett’s,” and 1/82nd, from IV B, - was added to VII B. - - Orders of December 6 directed the transfer of the Light - Battalions, K.G.L., to the 1st Division, the 3rd Provisional - Battalion (_i.e._ 2/24th and 2/58th) being added to VII A. - - The Portuguese Brigade was under Palmeirim in March: later it - seems to have been under Doyle of the 19th Line. - - _Light Division._ At Ciudad Rodrigo (January 19), Craufurd was - killed, and Vandeleur wounded; Barnard then took command of the - division, and Gibbs of 1/52nd of the 2nd Brigade. By April 15 - Vandeleur had resumed command, 2/52nd was drafted to 1/52nd by - Orders of February 23, the skeleton being sent home. - - On May 2 C. Alten received command of the division. - - By May 8 1/95th had been united in the 2nd Brigade, but Orders - of August 24 again divided it, 3 companies in each brigade: - before the end of the year it was again united and placed in - the 1st Brigade. - - Two more companies 2/95th came out from England in May, and - joined those already out, the four being in the 2nd Brigade. - Two more came up from Cadiz with Skerrett, and joined the - brigade. - - 3/95th seems to have been transferred temporarily to the 2nd - Brigade, but was back in the 1st by the end of the year. - - The 20th Portuguese, which had come up with Skerrett, were - posted to “Beckwith’s brigade,” October 17. - - _Portuguese._ In April, 1812, Power had replaced Arch. Campbell - in command of the 4th Brigade, while Bradford had the 11th - _vice_ McMahon: this now included the 5th Caçadores, 13th and - 24th Line. - - By July Power had exchanged the 4th Brigade for the 8th, which - was in the 3rd Division. A. Campbell would seem to have again - commanded the 4th, to which on April 8 the 10th Caçadores were - added. - - -[Sidenote: Changes in 1813] - -1813. - - On January 1 the Army was organized as follows:-- - - _Cavalry._ 1st Division. No G.O.C., Cotton absent. F [W. - Ponsonby], 5th Dragoon Guards, 3rd and 4th Dragoons; C [G. - Anson], 11th, 12th, and 16th Light Dragoons; E [V. Alten], 14th - Light Dragoons, 1st and 2nd K.G.L. Hussars; G [Bock], 1st and - 2nd K.G.L. Dragoons. - - _Cavalry._ 2nd Division. No G.O.C. B [Slade], 3rd and 4th - Dragoon Guards, 1st Dragoons; D [Long], 9th and 13th Light - Dragoons. - - _1st Division._ G.O.C., W. Stewart. A [Howard], 1/1st Guards, - 3/1st Guards, 1 company 5/60th; B [Fermor], 1st Coldstreams, - 1st Scots, 1 company 5/60th; C [Löw], 1st, 2nd, and 5th Line, - K.G.L., 1st and 2nd Light Battalions, K.G.L.[350] - - _2nd Division._ G.O.C., Hill. A [Cadogan], 1/50th, 1/71st, - 1/92nd, 1 company 5/60th; B [Byng], 1/3rd, 1/57th, 1st - Provisional Battalion (= 2/31st and 2/66th), 1 company 5/60th; - C [Wilson], 1/28th, 2/34th, 1/39th, 1 company 5/60th; also - Ashworth’s Portuguese. - - _3rd Division._ G.O.C.,? Pakenham. A [no brigadier], 1/45th, - headquarters 5/60th, 74th, 1/88th; B [J. Campbell for - Colville], 1/5th, 2/83rd, 2/87th, 94th; also Power’s Portuguese. - - _4th Division._ G.O.C., Cole. A [W. Anson], 3/27th, 1/40th, - 1/48th, 2nd Provisional Battalion (= 2nd and 2/53rd), 1 company - 5/60th; B [Skerrett], 1/7th, 20th, 1/23rd, 1 company Brunswick - Oels; also Stubbs’ Portuguese. - - _5th Division._ G.O.C.,? Hay, acting. A [Hay], 3/1st, 1/9th, - 1/38th, 1 company Brunswick Oels; B [Pringle], 1/4th, 2/47th, - 4th Provisional Battalion (= 2/30th and 2/44th), 1 company - Brunswick Oels; also Spry’s Portuguese. - - _6th Division._ G.O.C., H. Clinton. A [Stirling], 1/42nd, - 1/79th, 1/91st, 1 company 5/60th; B [Hinde], 1/11th, 1/32nd, - 1/36th, 1/61st; also Madden’s Portuguese. - - _7th Division._ G.O.C., Dalhousie. A [Barnes], 1/6th, 3rd - Provisional Battalion (= 2/24th and 2/58th), Headquarters and 9 - companies Brunswick Oels; B [de Bernewitz], 51st, 68th, 1/82nd; - Chasseurs Britanniques; also Doyle’s Portuguese. - - _Light Division._ G.O.C., C. Alten. A [no brigadier present: - still called Beckwith’s], 1/43rd, 1/95th, 3/95th, 1st - Caçadores; B [Vandeleur], 1/52nd, 2/95th, 3rd Caçadores,? 20th - Portuguese. - - _Portuguese._ Hamilton’s division, brigades under (?) Fonseca - and Campbell. Unattached brigades, Pack’s and Bradford’s. - - Subsequent changes were:-- - - _Cavalry._ By January 25 a new brigade (H) was added, composed - of two squadrons each of 1st and 2nd Life Guards and Royal - Horse Guards, O’Loghlin had apparently been appointed to - command it, but by Orders of November 28, 1812, F. S. Rebow - was appointed to command it in his place. It ranked as 3rd - Brigade, 2nd Division, but was transferred to the 1st on - February 5. In March it was under Sir Robert Hill, Rebow having - gone home. - - Orders of March 13 directed the distribution among the - regiments remaining in the Peninsula of the horses of 4th - Dragoon Guards, 9th and 11th Light Dragoons, and 2nd K.G.L. - Hussars, these regiments going home. Their place was taken by - a new brigade (I), under Colquhoun Grant, of 15th Hussars, - composed of the 10th, 15th and 18th Hussars: this first appears - in the “States” on April 15. - - Orders were issued April 21 for the amalgamation of the two - divisions, “under the command of Sir S. Cotton”: Cotton did - not, however, rejoin till June 25, and in his absence Bock - seems to have commanded the cavalry, his brigade being under - Bülow. - - On May 20 Fane, appointed a Major-General on the Staff April - 24, was given B vice Slade, who had been ordered home April 23. - - On July 2 orders were issued to transfer the 18th Hussars to V. - Alten’s brigade, vice the 14th Light Dragoons moved to Long’s, - which had been reduced to one regiment by the departure of - the 9th Light Dragoons (out of the “States” by April 4). Lord - E. Somerset at the same time was given command of the Hussar - brigade _vice_ Grant and Vandeleur, that of C _vice_ G. Anson, - removed to the Home Staff. - - On September 6 Grant was appointed to take over Long’s - brigade, Long having apparently gone home before the battles - of the Pyrenees, as his name was not among the commanders of - Cavalry brigades thanked by Parliament on November 8 for those - operations. On November 24 Hussey Vivian was appointed to take - Grant’s place. - - 7th Hussars arrived in Spain in September, and were added to - the Hussar brigade. They would seem to have been with the - brigade by October 21, but were not in Orders till November 24. - - In October O’Loghlin seems to have taken over the Household - Brigade, he had been placed on the Staff June 17. - - _1st Division._ In March Howard replaced W. Stewart in command, - but on May 19 Graham was appointed to command the division - Howard acting as his assistant while Graham commanded the left - wing of the army. On October 8 Graham resigned command and went - home ill. Sir John Hope[351] took his place: he was placed on - the Staff October 10, as from September 25. - - While Howard commanded the division his brigade was under - Lambert; it missed Vittoria, being too sickly to take the field - with the army and only joined in August. - - On July 2 Lambert was transferred to VI B, and Maitland got the - brigade. - - Löw went home May 6, the K.G.L. being certainly one brigade - only at Vittoria, where Halkett commanded them. - - Lord Aylmer’s brigade (76th, 2/84th and 85th) which is first - mentioned in Orders on July 23, and joined the army during - August, may be reckoned as part of the 1st Division with which - it always acted. By Orders of October 17 2/62nd was added to it - vice 2/84th transferred to V B. On November 24 the 77th (from - Lisbon) was added to it. - - On October 20 Hinüber was appointed to command the K.G.L. - infantry. - - _2nd Division._ On March 25 W. Stewart was appointed to command - the division “under Hill’s direction.” At the same time G. T. - Walker got Howard’s brigade, on the latter taking over the 1st - Division from Stewart. - - Wilson died in January and O’Callaghan of 39th commanded the - brigade till July 23, when Pringle was appointed to it. On May - 1 Wellington had written that he was keeping it vacant for - Oswald, should Leith come out and take over the 5th Division. - - At Vittoria Cadogan was killed and J. Cameron of 92nd took - over II A; he was wounded at Maya (July 25), and Fitzgerald of - 5/60th commanded, till Walker actually joined in August. On - November 18 Walker was transferred to command the 7th Division, - Barnes being appointed to II A November 20. - - _3rd Division._ Pakenham was transferred to the 6th Division - January 26, the division being under Colville who had returned - before that date. Picton rejoined in May, Colville reverting - to the command of his brigade. Picton was again absent from - September 8, but returned just before the end of the year. - Colville was in command at the Nivelle (November), but was - transferred to command the 5th Division, when Picton came back - in December. - - The 11th Caçadores were posted to Power’s brigade before April - 26, taking the place of the 12th. - - Brisbane, appointed to Staff of Army January 7, was given - command of III A, _vice_ Kempt, March 25. - - Colville being given temporary command of the 6th Division on - August 8, Keane commanded III B, as also when Colville came - back to the division. - - _4th Division._ By Orders of July 2 Skerrett was transferred to - the Light Division, his brigade going to Ross of 20th. - - By September 1 the Portuguese brigade was under Miller: at the - Nivelle (November 10) Vasconcellos had it. - - _5th Division._ While Hay commanded the division Greville of - 38th had his brigade. In April Oswald took over the division - and commanded it till Leith returned—August 30. Leith was - wounded at San Sebastian on September 1, and Oswald again took - command; but at the Bidassoa, (October 9) Hay was in command, - Greville having V A. On March 9 Robinson was appointed to - “Walker’s brigade,” _i.e._ V B. - - On April 12 2/59th from Cadiz was added to V B; on May 10 - the 4th Provisional Battalion was ordered to return home. On - October 17 2/84th from Lord Aylmer’s brigade was added to V B, - 2/47th being transferred to V A. Robinson was wounded before - Bayonne December 10, and his successor, Piper of 4th, being - wounded next day the command passed to Tonson of 2/84th. - - At the passage of the Bidassoa the Portuguese brigade was - commanded by de Regoa and until the end of the year. - - _6th Division._ On January 26 Pakenham was appointed to command - the division in Clinton’s absence. On June 25 he was appointed - Adjutant-General, and Clinton returned and resumed command. By - July 22 Clinton was again absent, Pack getting the division. - At Sorauren (July 28) Pack was wounded, and Pakenham took over - the division temporarily, giving it over to Colville before - August 8, Colville seems to have still been in command at the - passage of the Bidassoa (October 9), but Clinton then returned, - Colville reverting to the 3rd Division. - - Pack had been appointed to command VI A, _vice_ Stirling, - July 2, Lambert at the same time getting VI B, _vice_ Hinde. - Stirling commanded VI A when Pack got the division, but went - home in October. - - The Portuguese brigade was under the command of Madden till the - autumn: Douglas of the 8th Line had it at the Nivelle. - - _7th Division._ By April 16 de Bernewitz was no longer in - command of his brigade, to which Inglis was appointed May 21, - though at Vittoria Grant of 1/82nd commanded it, but Inglis - took charge before the Pyrenees. - - Le Cor received command of the Portuguese brigade on March 9. - When he was promoted in November Doyle had it. - - Dalhousie went home after the Bidassoa, October 9, and at the - Nivelle (November 9) Le Cor was in command. On November 18 - G. T. Walker was given command “in Dalhousie’s absence.” Le Cor - would seem to have been transferred to command the Portuguese - division formerly under Hamilton. - - On Barnes returning to the 2nd Division November 20, his - brigade seems to have gone to Gardiner. - - _Light Division._ On March 23 Kempt was appointed to A. On July - 2 Vandeleur was transferred to a cavalry brigade, Skerrett - getting B. At the passage of the Bidassoa and to the end of the - year Colborne of 52nd was in command of B, vice Skerrett, who - went home in September. - - The 20th Portuguese never joined the division: in place of them - on April 26 the 17th Portuguese appear in its “State.” - - _Portuguese._ Hamilton had had to give up command of his - Portuguese division in February, owing to ill-health, upon - which it was under Silveira, the brigades being under Da - Costa and Campbell during the battles of the Pyrenees. By - the passage of the Nivelle (November 9) Hamilton was again in - command, Buchan had Da Costa’s brigade, but during the fighting - on the Nive (December 9–11), Le Cor had the division and Buchan - and Da Costa the brigades. Buchan was ordered to transfer - himself to the Portuguese Brigade of the 7th Division on Nov. - 9, but this move was countermanded. - - When Pack was moved to a British command (July 2) his brigade - went to Wilson, who commanded it at the Bidassoa, but had been - replaced by A. Campbell by the Nive (December 9), Wilson having - been wounded November 18. - - Bradford seems to have retained the other unattached brigade - all the year. - - -[Sidenote: Organization on Jan. 1, 1814] - -1814. - - On January 1 the organization was as follows:-- - - _Cavalry._ G.O.C., Cotton. I [O’Loghlin], 1st and 2nd Life - Guards, R.H.G.; F [W. Ponsonby], 5th Dragoon Guards, 3rd and - 4th Dragoons; C [Vandeleur], 12th and 16th Light Dragoons; D - [Vivian], 13th and 14th Light Dragoons; E [V. Alten], 18th - Hussars, 1st K.G.L. Hussars; G [Bock], 1st and 2nd K.G.L. - Dragoons; B [Fane], 3rd Dragoon Guards, 1st Dragoons; H - [Somerset], 7th, 10th and 15th Hussars. - - _1st Division._ G.O.C., Hope, with Howard as assistant; A - [Maitland for Howard], 1/1st Guards, 3/1st Guards, 1 company - 5/60th; B [Stopford], 1st Coldstreams, 1st Scots, 1 company - 5/60th; C [Hinüber], 1st, 2nd and 5th Line, K.G.L.; 1st and 2nd - Light Battalions, K.G.L.; D [Aylmer], 2/62nd, 76th, 77th, 85th. - - _2nd Division._ G.O.C., W. Stewart. A [Barnes], 1/50th, - 1/71st, 1/92nd, 1 company 5/60th; B [Byng], 1/3rd, 1/57th, 1st - Provisional Battalion (2/31st and 2/66th), 1 company 5/60th; - C [Pringle], 1/28th, 2/34th, 1/39th, 1 company 5/60th; also - Ashworth’s Portuguese. - - _3rd Division._ G.O.C., Picton. A [Brisbane], 1/45th, - Headquarters 5/60th, 74th, 1/88th; B [Keane], 1/5th, 2/83rd, - 2/87th, 94th; also Power’s Portuguese. - - _4th Division._ G.O.C., Cole. A [W. Anson], 3/27th, 1/40th, - 1/48th, 2nd Provisional Battalion (2nd and 2/53rd), 1 company - Brunswick Oels; B [Ross], 1/7th, 1/20th, 1/23rd, 1 company - 5/60th; also Vasconcellos’ Portuguese. - - _5th Division._ G.O.C., Colville. A [Hay], 3/1st, 1/9th, - 1/38th, 2/47th, 1 company Brunswick Oels; B [Robinson], 1/4th, - 2/59th, 2/84th, 1 company Brunswick Oels; also de Regoa’s - Portuguese. - - _6th Division._ G.O.C., Clinton. A [Pack], 1/42nd, 1/79th, - 1/91st, 1 company 5/60th; B [Lambert], 1/11th, 1/32nd, 1/36th, - 1/61st; also Douglas’ Portuguese. - - _7th Division._ G.O.C., Walker. A [Gardiner], 1/6th, 3rd - Provisional Battalion (2/24th and 2/58th), Headquarters - Brunswick Oels; B [Inglis], 51st, 68th, 1/82nd, Chasseurs - Britanniques; also Doyle’s Portuguese. - - _Light Division._ G.O.C., C. Alten. A [Kempt], 1/43rd, 1/95th, - 3/95th, 1st Caçadores; B [Colborne], 1/52nd, 2/95th, 3rd - Caçadores, 17th Portuguese. - - _Portuguese._ Le Cor’s division, with Da Costa and Buchan - commanding brigades. Unattached brigades under A. Campbell and - Bradford. - - Subsequent changes were:-- - - _Cavalry._ By January 16 several changes had taken place: V. - Alten had gone and Vivian had been transferred to his brigade, - Fane having transferred from B to D (late Vivian’s). Bock also - went (he was drowned off the coast of Brittany in February) - about the same time. - - From January 25 W. Ponsonby was absent, Lord C. Manners of 3rd - Dragoons commanding his brigade. - - By March 25 Arentschildt (of 1st K.G.L. Hussars) had been - given Bock’s old brigade: on Vivian being wounded (April 8) - Arentschildt was transferred to E, and Bülow got the “German - Heavy Brigade.” - - Fane’s name appears in the “States” both as commanding B and - D. According to the _Regimental History of the 14th Hussars_ - (by Col. H. B. Hamilton) he commanded both, working them - practically as a division, the brigades being respectively - commanded by Clifton of the Royals (B), and Doherty of the 13th - Light Dragoons (D). - - _1st Division._ 1/37th joined Aylmer’s brigade before March 25. - On April 14 Stopford was wounded at Bayonne and his division - went to Guise. - - _2nd Division._ On February 15 Pringle was wounded and - O’Callaghan commanded the brigade. - - It was arranged that when Lord Dalhousie rejoined, and resumed - command of the 7th Division, Walker should revert to II A and - Barnes take over III B, but Walker was wounded at Orthez and - went home, so the arrangement was never carried out. - - By January 16 Harding had replaced Ashworth in command of the - 5th Portuguese brigade. - - _3rd Division._ No changes: Brisbane was slightly wounded at - Toulouse. - - _4th Division._ Ross was wounded at Orthez (February 27) and - the brigade was without a G.O.C. - - _5th Division._ After February 1 Robinson was absent. Hay was - killed before Bayonne April 14. - - _6th Division._ Pack was wounded at Toulouse, as was also - Douglas. - - 1/32nd missed Toulouse, being at San Jean de Luz refitting. - - _7th Division._ Walker was wounded at Orthez and went home: - Dalhousie arriving almost immediately after the battle and - resuming command. - - By January 16, the Portuguese brigade was under Doyle (he may - have got it when Le Cor obtained command of the Portuguese - division.) - - _Light Division._ 1/43rd and 1/95th both missed Orthez, being - away refitting. - - _Portuguese._ Da Costa was ordered back to Portugal before - March 15. - - - - -APPENDIX III. - -PENINSULAR AUTOBIOGRAPHIES, JOURNALS, LETTERS, ETC. - - -The subjoined list, which includes all the printed autobiographies, -diaries, journals, and series of letters utilized in this volume, makes -no pretensions to be exhaustive. It contains, however, all the more -important original sources of this character, as opposed to formal -histories, controversial monographs, and biographies of Peninsular -officers written by authors who were not themselves engaged in the war. -But I have added to the list those later biographies which contain a -great proportion of original and contemporary letters or diaries, such -as Delavoye’s _Life of Lord Lynedoch_, Rait’s _Life of Lord Gough_, -Wrottesley’s _Life of Sir John Burgoyne_, and C. Vivian’s _Life of Lord -Vivian_. Much valuable first-hand information is imbedded in such works. - -The books are arranged under headings according to the position which -the writer held in the Peninsular War, mainly by regiments, but partly -under departmental sections [staff, commissariat, medical, etc.]. I -trust that the list may be found useful for those wishing to compile -regimental, brigade, or divisional annals of any part of the war. - - -I. STAFF. - - [_Including the Diaries, Memoirs, Correspondence, etc., of General - Officers, their Aides-de-Camp, and Officers attached to - Head-Quarters._] - - Blayney (Lord). Narrative of a Forced Journey through Spain and - France, by Major-General Lord Blayney [The Fuengirola Expedition, - etc.]. London, 1814. - - Burghersh (Lord). Memoir of the Early Campaign of the Duke of - Wellington in Portugal and Spain [anon]. London, 1820. - - Cotton, Sir S. Life and Correspondence of Field-Marshal Lord - Combermere [Sir Stapleton Cotton], ed. by Viscountess Combermere - and Capt. W. Knollys. London, 1866. - - Douglas, Sir H. Life of General Sir Howard Douglas from his Notes, - Conversation, and Letters [Campaigns of 1811–14]. London, 1863. - - Fitzclarence, A. An Account of the British Campaign of 1809 under Sir - A. Wellesley in Portugal and Spain by Lt.-Col. Fitzclarence [Earl - of Munster]. London, 1831. - - Graham, Sir T. Life and Letters of Sir Thomas Graham, Lord Lynedoch, - by Captain A. M. Delavoye. London, 1868. - - Gomm (Sir W.). His Letters and Journals from 1799 to Waterloo [1808–9 - and 1810–14]. London, 1881. - - Hill, Lord, Life and Letters of, by Rev. E. Sidney. London, 1845. - - Larpent, F. S. The Private Journal of Judge-Advocate F. S. Larpent, - attached to Lord Wellington’s Headquarters, 1812–14. London, 1853. - - Leith Hay, A. Narrative of the Peninsular War, by Sir Andrew Leith - Hay [Aide-de-Camp to General Leith]. 2 vols. London, 1879. - - Mackinnon, General Henry. Journal in Portugal and Spain, 1809–12 - [Privately Printed]. 1812. - - Moore, Sir J. The Diary of Sir John Moore, ed. by General Sir T. F. - Maurice. 2 vols. London, 1904. - - Picton, Sir T. Memoirs and Correspondence of General Sir T. Picton, - by H. B. Robinson. 2 vols. London, 1836. - - Porter, Sir R. K. Letters from Portugal and Spain written during the - March of the British Troops [by Sir Robert Ker Porter], 1808–9. - London, 1809. - - Shaw-Kennedy, T. [Aide-de-Camp to General Craufurd]. Diary of 1810, - printed in Lord Fitzclarence’s _Manual of Outpost Duties_. - London, 1849. - - Sorell, T. S. Notes on the Campaign of 1808–9, by Lieut.-Col. T. S. - Sorell, Aide-de-Camp to Sir D. Baird. London, 1828. - - Stewart, Sir Chas. Lives and Correspondence of the Second and - Third Marquesses of Londonderry [the third was Chas. Stewart, - Adjutant-General to Wellington]. 3 vols. London, 1861. - - Vere, C. B. Marches, Movements, and Operations of the 4th Division, - in Spain and Portugal, 1810–12, by Chas. Brooke Vere, Assistant - Quarter-Master General of the Division. Ipswich, 1841. - - -II. REGIMENTAL REMINISCENCES AND JOURNALS. - - -(_a_) CAVALRY. - - 7th Hussars. Vivian (Lord). Richard Hussey Vivian, First Baron - Vivian, Memoir and Letters, by Hon. Claud Vivian [1808–9 and - 1813–14]. London, 1897. - - 11th Light Dragoons. Farmer, G. “The Light Dragoon,” the story of - Geo. Farmer, 11th Light Dragoons, ed. Rev. G. R. Gleig [1811 and - Waterloo]. London, 1844. - - 14th Light Dragoons. Hawker, Peter. Journal of the Campaign of 1809, - by Lieut.-Col. Hawker, 14th Light Dragoons. London, 1810. - - ——. Reminiscences of 1811–12 by Cornet Francis Hall. In _Journal - United Service Institution_ for 1912. - - 16th Light Dragoons. Hay, W. Reminiscences under Wellington, 1808–15, - by Captain William Hay, 52nd Foot and 16th Light Dragoons. - London, 1901. - - ——. Tomkinson, W. The Diary of a Cavalry Officer in the Peninsular - and Waterloo Campaigns, 1809–15. London, 1894. - - 18th Hussars. Woodberry, G. Journal of Lieutenant Woodberry in the - Campaigns of 1813–15. Paris, 1896. - - 20th Light Dragoons. Landsheit (N.). The Hussar: the story of Norbert - Landsheit, Sergeant in the York Hussars and the 20th Light - Dragoons, ed. Rev. G. R. Gleig. London, 1837. - - Anonymous. Jottings from my Sabretache, by a Chelsea Pensioner - [Campaigns of 1813–14]. London, 1847. - - ——. Personal Narrative of Adventures in the Peninsular War, 1812–13, - by an Officer in the Staff Corps Cavalry. London, 1827. - - -(_b_) INFANTRY. - - 1st Foot Guards. Batty, R. The Campaign in the Pyrenees and Southern - France, 1813–14, by Captain Robert Batty, 1st Foot Guards. - _Illustrated._ London, 1823. - - 2nd Foot Guards. Stepney, S. C. Leaves from the Diary of an Officer - of the Guard, Sketches of Campaigning Life, by Lieut.-Col. S. - Cowell Stepney, K.H., Coldstream Guards [Campaigns of 1810–12]. - London, 1854. - - 3rd Foot Guards. Stevenson, J. Twenty-One Years in the British Foot - Guards, by John Stevenson, 3rd Foot Guards, sixteen years a - non-commissioned officer, forty years a Wesleyan class-leader - [Campaigns of 1809–11]. London, 1830. - - 3rd Foot Guards. Stothert, W. Journal of the Campaigns of 1809–11, by - Captain William Stothert, 3rd Foot Guards. London, 1812. - - 3rd Foot (the Buffs). Reminiscences of a Veteran, being Personal and - Military Adventures in the Peninsula, etc., by Lieut.-Gen. T. - Bunbury [only 1808–9 in the Buffs]. London, 1861. - - 5th Foot. Morley, S. Memoirs of a Sergeant of the 5th Regiment, - by Sergeant Stephen Morley, 5th Foot [Campaigns of 1808–11]. - Ashford, 1842. - - 7th Foot. Cooper, J. S. Rough Notes of Seven Campaigns in Portugal, - etc., by John Spenser Cooper, Sergeant 7th Royal Fusiliers. - Carlisle, 1869. - - ——. Knowles, R. Letters of Lieut. Robert Knowles, 7th Fusiliers, - during the Campaigns of 1811–13, ed. by Sir Lees Knowles, Bart. - Bolton, 1909. - - 9th Foot. Hale, J. Journal of James Hale, late Sergeant 9th Foot - [1808–14]. Cirencester, 1826. - - 20th Foot. Steevens, C. Reminiscences of Col. Chas. Steevens, - 1795–1818 [Campaigns of 1808 and 1813–14]. Winchester, 1878. - - 24th Foot. Tidy, C. Recollections of an Old Soldier, a Biographical - Sketch of the Late Col. Tidy, C.B., 24th Regt. [1808]. London, - 1849. - - 28th Foot. Cadell, C. Narrative of the Campaigns of the 28th Regt. - from 1802 to 1832, by Col. Chas. Cadell [1809–1814]. London, 1835. - - ——. Blakeney, R. Services, Adventures, and Experiences of Capt. - Robert Blakeney, “A Boy in the Peninsular War,” edited by Julian - Sturgis [1808–14]. London, 1899. - - 29th Foot. Leslie. Journal during the Peninsular War, etc., of - Colonel Leslie of Balquain [1809–14]. Aberdeen, 1887. - - ——. Leith Hay, A. A Narrative of the Peninsular War, by Sir Andrew - Leith Hay (personal adventures, first with the 29th, then as - Aide-de-Camp to General Leith). London, 1839. - - 31st Foot. L’Estrange, G. Recollections of Sir George L’Estrange, - 1812–14. London, 1873. - - 32nd Foot. Ross-Lewin, H. Life of a Soldier, a Narrative of 27 years’ - service in various parts of the World, by a Field Officer [Major - H. Ross-Lewin] [1808–14]. 2 vols. London, 1834. - - 34th Foot. Bell, G. Rough Notes by an Old Soldier, during Fifty - Years’ Service, from Ensign to Major-General. 2 vols. [Campaigns - of 1811–14]. London, 1867. - - 40th Foot. Lawrence, W. The Autobiography of Sergeant Wm. Lawrence, - 40th Regt., ed. by G. N. Banks [Campaigns of 1808–14]. London, - 1901. - - 42nd Foot. Anton, J. Retrospect of a Military Life, during - the most Eventful Period of the late War, by James Anton, - Quartermaster-Sergeant, 42nd Highlanders [1813–14]. Edinburgh, - 1841. - - ——. Malcolm, J. Reminiscences of the Campaign in the Pyrenees and the - South of France in 1813–14, by John Malcolm, Lieut. 42nd Foot: in - Constable’s _Memorials of the Late Wars_. Edinburgh, 1828. - - ——. Anon. Personal Narrative of a Private Soldier who served in the - 42nd Highlanders for Twelve Years [1808–9 and 1811–14]. 1821. - - 43rd Foot. Cooke, J. H. Memoir of the late War, a Personal Narrative - of Captain J. H. Cooke, 43rd Light Infantry [Campaigns of - 1811–14]. London, 1831. - - ——. ——. A Narrative of Events in the South of France and America, - 1814–15 [continuation of the above]. London, 1835. - - ——. Napier, Geo. The Early Military Life of Gen. Sir Geo. Napier, - K.C.B., written by himself. London, 1886. - - ——. Anon. Memoirs of a Sergeant late of the 43rd Light Infantry, - previously to and during the Peninsular War, including the - account of his Conversion from Popery to the Protestant Religion. - London, 1835. - - 47th Foot. Harley, J. The Veteran, or Forty Years in the British - Service, by Capt. John Harley, late Paymaster 47th Regt. - [Campaigns of 1811–14]. London, 1838. - - 48th Foot. Moyle Sherer, G. Recollections of the Peninsula, by Col. - G. Moyle Sherer [Campaigns of 1809–13]. London, 1823. - - 50th Foot. MacCarthy, J. The Storm of Badajoz, with a Note on the - Battle of Corunna, by J. MacCarthy, late 50th Regt. London, 1836. - - ——. Napier, Chas. Life and Opinions of Sir Charles James Napier, by - Sir William Napier [First vol. for the 50th at Corunna, etc.]. - London, 1857. - - 50th Foot. Patterson, J. Adventures of Captain John Patterson, with - Notices of the Officers of the 50th Queen’s Regiment, 1807–21. - London, 1837. - - ——. Patterson, J. Camp and Quarters, Scenes and Impressions of - Military Life by the same Author. London, 1843. - - 51st Foot. Wheeler, W. Journal from the year 1809 to 1816 by William - Wheeler, a Soldier of the 51st or King’s Own Light Infantry. - Corfu, 1824. - - 52nd Foot. Hay, W. Reminiscences under Wellington, 1808–15, by - Captain William Hay, 52nd Foot and 16th Light Dragoons. London, - 1901. - - ——. Seaton (Lord). Life and Letters of Sir John Colborne [Lord - Seaton], ed. by G. C. Moore-Smith. London, 1903. - - 66th Foot. Henry, W. Events of a Military Life, being Recollections - of the Service in the Peninsula, etc., of Walter Henry, Surgeon, - 66th Regt. [Campaign of 1812–14]. London, 1843. - - 68th Foot. Green, J. Vicissitudes of a Soldier’s Life, by John Green, - late of the 68th Durham Light Infantry. Louth, 1827. - - 71st Foot. Anon. Vicissitudes in the Life of a Scottish Soldier, 1808 - to 1815, including some particulars of the Battle of Waterloo. - London, 1827. - - ——. Anon, TS. Journal of T. S. of the 71st Highland Light Infantry, - in _Memorials of the Late Wars_ [ed. Constable]. Edinburgh, 1828. - - 82nd Foot. Wood, G. The Subaltern Officer, a Narrative by Captain - Geo. Wood of the 82nd Prince of Wales’s Volunteers [1808 and - 1813–14]. London, 1825. - - 85th Foot. Gleig, G. R. The Subaltern [Campaigns in the Pyrenees and - South of France, 1813–14], by G. R. Gleig, 85th Foot. London, - 1823. - - 87th Foot. Gough [Lord]. See Letters 1809–14 in R. S. Rait’s _Life of - Lord Gough_. - - 88th Foot. Grattan, W. Adventures with the Connaught Rangers, - 1804–14, by Lieut. Wm. Grattan. London, 1847. - - ——. ——. Second series of Reminiscences. London, 1853. - - 92nd Foot. Hope, J. Military Memoirs of an Infantry Officer, 1809–16 - [Lieut. Jas. Hope, 92nd Highlanders]. London, 1833. - - 92nd Foot. Anon. Letters from Portugal, etc., during the Campaigns of - 1811–14 by a British Officer [92nd Gordon Highlanders]. London, - 1819. - - ——. Robertson, D. Journal of Sergeant D. Robertson, late 92nd - Highlanders, during the Campaigns between 1797 and 1818. Perth, - 1842. - - 94th Foot. Donaldson, J. Recollection of an Eventful Life, chiefly - passed in the Army, by Joseph Donaldson, Sergeant 94th Scotch - Brigade [1809–14]. London, 1825. - - 95th [Rifle Brigade]. Costello, E. Memoirs of Edward Costello of the - Rifle Brigade, comprising narratives of Wellington’s Campaigns in - the Peninsula, etc. London, 1857. - - ——. Fernyhough, R. Military Memoirs of Four Brothers, by the - survivor, Lieut. R. Fernyhough, Rifle Brigade. London, 1829. - - ——. Green, W. A brief Outline of the Travels and Adventures of Wm. - Green, Bugler, Rifle Brigade, during a period of ten years, - 1802–12. Coventry, 1857. - - ——. Harris. Recollections of Rifleman Harris, ed. by Capt. Curling - [1808–09]. London, 1848. - - ——. Kincaid, J. Adventures in the Rifle Brigade, in the Peninsula, - France, and the Netherlands, 1810–15, by Captain Sir John - Kincaid. London, 1830. - - ——. ——. Random Shots from a Rifleman [Miscellaneous Anecdotes]. - London, 1835. - - ——. Leach, J. Rough Sketches of the Life of an Old Soldier, during - a service in the West Indies, the Peninsula, etc. [1808–14], - London, 1831. - - ——. ——. Rambles on the Banks of Styx [Peninsular Reminiscences], by - the same author. London, 1847. - - ——. Simmons, G. A British Rifleman: Journals and Correspondence of - Major Geo. Simmons (95th) during the Peninsular War, etc., ed. - Col. Willoughby Verner. London, 1899. - - ——. Smith, H. The Autobiography of General Sir Harry Smith [vol. i. - contains Peninsular Memoirs], ed. G. Moore Smith. London, 1901. - - ——. Surtees, W. Twenty-five Years in the Rifle Brigade, by Wm. - Surtees, Quartermaster [1808, 1811–14]. London, 1833. - - -III. ARTILLERY. - - Dickson, Alex. The Dickson Papers, Diaries and Correspondence of - Major-General Sir Alexander Dickson, G.C.B. Series 1809–18. ed. - by Major John Leslie, R.A. 2 vols. Woolwich, 1908–12. - - Frazer, A. S. Letters of Sir Augustus Simon Frazer, K.C.B., - Commanding Royal Horse Artillery under Wellington, written during - the Peninsular Campaigns. London, 1859. - - [See also numerous short Journals and Series of Letters in the - Journal of the Royal Artillery Institution, Woolwich, in recent - years, Swabey, Ingilby, Downman, etc.] - - -IV. ENGINEERS. - - Burgoyne, J. F. Life and Correspondence of Sir John Fox Burgoyne, ed. - Hon. Geo. Wrottesley. London, 1873. - - Boothby, C. Under England’s Flag, 1804–9, Memoirs, Diary, and - Correspondence of Captain C. Boothby, R.E. [Corunna Campaign]. - London, 1900. - - ——. A Prisoner of France, by the same [Oporto and Talavera - Campaigns]. London, 1898. - - Landmann, G. T. Recollections of Military Life, 1806–8 [Vimeiro - Campaign], by Colonel Geo. Landmann, R.E. London, 1854. - - -V. TRAIN AND COMMISSARIAT. - - Dallas, A. Autobiography of the Rev. Alexander Dallas, including - his service in the Peninsula [1811–14] in the Commissariat - Department. London, 1870. - - Chesterton, G. L. Peace, War, and Adventure, an Autobiography by - George Laval Chesterton [vol. i. contains service in Catalonia - 1812–14]. London, 1853. - - Graham, W. Travels in Portugal and Spain, 1812–14, by William Graham - of the Commissariat Department. London, 1820. - - Head, F. Memoirs of an Assistant-Commissary-General (in the - Peninsular War), by Gen. F. Head. London, 1840. - - Hennegan, R. D. Seven Years in the Peninsula and the Netherlands, - by Sir Richard D. Hennegan, of the Field Train [Campaigns of - 1808–14]. London, 1846. - - -VI. MEDICAL DEPARTMENT. - - Henry, W. Events of a Military Life, Recollections of the Peninsular - War, etc., by Surgeon Walter Henry, 66th Regt. London, 1843. - - McGrigor, J. The Autobiography and Services of Sir Jas. McGrigor. - Bart., late Director General of the Medical Department [1812–14]. - London, 1861. - - Neale, A. Letters from Portugal and Spain [Vimeiro and Corunna], by - Adam Neale, M.D. London, 1809. - - -VII. WORKS BY CHAPLAINS. - - Bradford, W. Sketches of the Country, Character, and Costume in - Portugal and Spain, 1808–9, by Rev. Wm. Bradford, Chaplain of - Brigade. 40 coloured plates. London, 1810. - - Ormsby, J. W. Operations of the British Army in Portugal and Spain, - 1808–9, by Rev. Jas. Wilmot Ormsby, with appendices, etc. London, - 1809. - - -VIII. OFFICERS IN THE KING’S GERMAN LEGION. - - Hartmann, Sir Julius, Ein Lebenskizze, 1808–15. Berlin, 1901. - - Ompteda, Baron, C. Memoir and Letters of Baron Christian Ompteda, - Colonel in the King’s German Legion [Campaigns of 1812–14]. - London, 1894. - - Anon. Journal of an Officer of the King’s German Legion, 1803–16. - London, 1827. - - -IX. WORKS BY OFFICERS IN THE PORTUGUESE SERVICE. - - Blakiston, J. Twelve Years’ Military Adventure, in three Quarters of - the Globe [by Major John Blakiston], 1813–14, with the Portuguese - Caçadores. 1829. - - Bunbury, T. Reminiscences of a Veteran, Personal and Military - Adventures in the Peninsula, etc. [1810–14 with the 20th - Portuguese Line]. 1861. - - Madden, G., Services of, 1809–13, by a Friend. London, 1815. - - Mayne, R., and Lillie, J. W. The Loyal Lusitanian Legion, 1808–10. - London, 1812. - - Warre, G. Letters, 1808–12, of Sir George Warre [of the Portuguese - Staff], ed. by Rev. E. Warre, D.D. London, 1909. - - -X. OFFICERS IN THE SPANISH SERVICE. - - Whittingham, Sir S. Memoir [and Correspondence] of Lieut.-Gen. Sir - Samuel Ford Whittingham. London, 1868. - - - - -FOOTNOTES - - -[1] John Shipp’s is the only book from the ranks which has been -reprinted within the last ten years, I believe. Mr. Fitchett reproduced -a few chapters of Anton and others in his rather disappointing -_Wellington’s Men_. - -[2] Kincaid, _Random Shots from a Rifleman_, p. 8. - -[3] This was Woodberry of the 18th Hussars. - -[4] _Sir William Gomm’s Life_, p. 31. - -[5] See his curious dispatch from Cartaxo dated February 6th, 1811, -concerning preaching officers. - -[6] He describes himself as “rolling on the floor like one distracted, -with the pains of hell getting hold, and hope seeming to be for ever -shut out of my mind.”—_Surtees_, p. 172. - -[7] He calls his little book _Memoir of a Sergeant late of the 43rd -Light Infantry, previously to and during the Peninsular War, including -an account of his Conversion from Popery to the Protestant Religion_. - -[8] John Stevenson of the Scots Fusilier Guards. - -[9] _Life of Sir W. Napier_, i. 235, 236. - -[10] _Dispatches_, vii. p. 559. - -[11] _Ibid._ vi. p. 485. - -[12] This preposterous remark may be found on p. 28 of vol. vi. - -[13] Only printed in 1894. - -[14] Edited by Col. Willoughby Verner. - -[15] Published 1881. Invaluable as a private record for the staff. - -[16] Edited by his kinsman, the present Provost of Eton. - -[17] Larpent was a lawyer who acted as Wellington’s Judge Advocate. - -[18] It is hardly necessary to mention Jones’s slight Sketch (1818) or -Goddard’s mass of undigested contemporary material (1814). - -[19] _Journal_ in Girod de l’Ain, p. 98. - -[20] His well-written two volumes (issued 1829) are said to have been -very largely the work of his aide-de-camp, St. Cyr-Nugues. - -[21] Vacani’s Italian general history of the war is very slight on the -English side, being mainly devoted to the doings of the Italians in -Catalonia. - -[22] Published under the rather romantic title of _A Boy in the -Peninsular War_ (which suggests a work of fiction), by Julian Corbett, -in 1899. - -[23] Published in the _Revue Hispanique_ in 1907. - -[24] See p. 7. - -[25] Published 1831. A first-rate authority for Rifle Brigade and Light -Division matters. - -[26] Of the 29th Regt. Published only in 1887. - -[27] Published 1867. - -[28] Not to be confused with Sir _George_ Bell. - -[29] See for a dissection and disproof of this story Ropes’s -_Waterloo_, pp. 238–242, 3rd edition. Mr. Horsburgh (p. 138) and -others accept the story. But despite Lady Shelley’s note it is really -incredible. - -[30] For a dissection of Marbot’s blunders see the essay on his methods -in Holland Rose’s _Pitt and Napoleon_, pp. 156–166. - -[31] Blakeney wrote about 1835, at Paxos in the Ionian Isles; Smith in -1844, in India; Kincaid in 1847. - -[32] His extraordinarily vivid narrative of the fortunes of Browne’s -provisional battalion at Barrosa conflicts in detail with contemporary -evidence which there is no reason to doubt, _e.g._ as to the numbers of -the battalion, and as to the exact behaviour of General Whittingham. - -[33] A strong case is that of the sergeant of the 43rd, mentioned -above, on p. 7, who lets in scraps of Napier into his patchwork with -the most unhappy effect. - -[34] But only published by Constable & Co. in 1828. For more of his -story, see the chapter on “The Rank and File.” - -[35] Sergeant Lawrence’s _Autobiography_ was not published till 1886. -Cooper’s _Seven Campaigns in Portugal_, etc., came out in 1869. - -[36] Only printed quite lately in the _Revue Hispanique_ for 1907. - -[37] Hanover, 1907, 2 vols. - -[38] Published at Lisbon in 4 vols., 1862–80. - -[39] His book is called _Reminiscences of a Veteran_, and was published -so late as 1861. - -[40] _Twelve Years of Military Adventure_, published 1829. - -[41] Published in 1880. - -[42] Published 1835, 2 vols. - -[43] Published 1845. - -[44] Two vols., published 1856. - -[45] By D. Beresford-Pack, 1905. - -[46] By Hon. Claud Vivian, 1897. - -[47] Two vols., 1904. - -[48] _E.g._ the cavalry general Long, who was writing in the spring of -1810 that “the next campaign in the Peninsula will close the eventful -scene in the Peninsula, as far as we are concerned. I am strongly of -opinion that neither ‘Marshal’ Wellington nor ‘Marshal’ Beresford -will prevent the approaching subjugation of Portugal.” And, again, -“Wellington, I suspect, feels himself tottering on his throne, and -wishes to conciliate at any sacrifice.” - -[49] Kincaid, chap. v., May, 1811. - -[50] Cooke’s _Narrative of events in the South of France_, pp. 47, 48. - -[51] Stanhope’s _Conversations with the Duke of Wellington_, p. 14. - -[52] For a curious instance of this sort in the 92nd, see Hope’s -_Military Memoirs of an Infantry Officer_, pp. 449–451. Cf. Sir George -Napier’s _Autobiography_, pp. 125–128. - -[53] Gronow’s _Recollections_, p. 66. - -[54] McGrigor’s _Autobiography_, pp. 304, 305. - -[55] When sending him to command in India. - -[56] These two letters are in the Rice-Jones Correspondence (this R.E. -officer is not to be confounded with Sir John Jones, the historian), -lent to me by Hon. Henry Shore of Mount Elton, Clevedon. - -[57] See _Colborne’s Life and Letters_, ed. Moore Smith, pp. 126, 127; -235, 236. - -[58] _Napier_, vi. p. 175. - -[59] _Grattan_, p. 332. - -[60] The memorandum is on pp. 261–263 of vol. iv. of Wellington’s -Dispatches. - -[61] _Dispatches_, vol. v. pp. 123, 124. - -[62] For an interesting chapter on the adventures of Colquhoun Grant -see the autobiography of his brother-in-law, Sir J. McGrigor. - -[63] Stanhope’s _Conversations with the Duke of Wellington_, p. 19. - -[64] Foy’s diary in Girod de l’Ain, p. 178. - -[65] For an analysis of the controversy, see Dumolin’s preface to his -_Précis des Guerres de la Révolution_, and compare Colin’s _Education -Militaire de Napoleon_. - -[66] See especially the record of the great English and Austrian -charges against French infantry at Villers-en-Cauchies, Beaumont, and -Willems (Fortescue’s _British Army_, lv. 240–56). - -[67] The French battalion then comprising nine companies, of which one, -the Voltigeur company, would not be in the column. - -[68] From an essay entitled _Character of the Armies of the various -European Powers_, in a collection called _Essays on the Theory and -Practice of the Art of War_. 3 vols. London: Philips & Co. - -[69] Though Marshal Broglie had used something like an approach -to permanent divisions in the Seven Years’ War: see Colin’s -_Transformations de la Guerre_, p. 97. - -[70] Colin quotes as bad examples of French armies coming on the field -dispersedly, without the proper timing and co-operation, Wattignies, -Neresheim (1796), and all Moreau’s operations beyond the Rhine in that -year from Rastadt to Ettlingen (_Transformations de la Guerre_, p. 99). - -[71] See Dumolin’s _Précis d’Histoire Militaire_, x. p. 263, and -Colin’s _Tactique et Discipline_, p. lxxxv. - -[72] At Arcola Augereau’s division attacked the bridge over a raised -road passing over a dyke only 30 feet broad, with marshes on each side. -There were three regiments, one behind the other. Cohorn’s column at -Ebersburg was not so deep, only a brigade. But it had to defile over a -bridge 200 yards long. - -[73] _E.g._: this was the formation of the 3rd corps at Lützen, see -Fabry, _Journal des 3^{me} et 5^{me} Corps en 1813_, p. 7. - -[74] Foy’s _Vie Militaire_, ed. Girod de l’Ain, p. 107. - -[75] Habitually but not invariably: _e.g._ for a use of eight -skirmishing companies from five battalions at Villamuriel in Oct. -12, by Maucune, see Béchaud’s _Journal_, pp. 406–7, in _Études -Napoléoniemes_ I. - -[76] Sir James Sinclair in his _Observations on the Military System of -Great Britain, so far as respects the formation of Infantry_, deals -with this idea at great length, and proposes to have 160 skirmishers to -each battalion of 640 men. - -[77] See Fortescue, _British Army_, iv. p. 921. - -[78] See the anecdote of the 28th regiment at Alexandria, whose rear -rank faced about, and fought back-to-back with the front rank, when -unexpectedly assailed from behind by French cavalry which had passed -through a gap in the line. Hence the grant of the double shako-plate, -before and behind, made to the regiment. - -[79] Till lately I had supposed that Reynier had at least his left -wing, or striking _échelon_, in columns of battalions, but evidence -shown me by Col. James proves that, despite of the fact that the French -narratives do not show it, the majority at least of Reynier’s men were -deployed. This is borne out by Bunbury’s narrative, p. 244, where it is -definitely stated, as well as by Boothby’s, p. 78. - -[80] Those of Reynier. See my _Peninsular War_, Bussaco chapter. - -[81] See Stanhope’s _Conversations with the Duke of Wellington_, p. 109. - -[82] The phrase comes from the _De Ros Manuscript_, quoted in Maxwell’s -_Life of Wellington_, ii. p. 20. - -[83] Foy’s _Vie Militaire_, ed. Girod de l’Ain, pp. 270, 271. - -[84] Donkin’s Brigade, Wellington’s last reserve, which was never -engaged with infantry all day, lost 195 men without firing a shot—save -by its skirmishers. - -[85] See Fortescue, iv. p. 841. - -[86] The interesting circular to Brigadiers conveying this information -runs, “The Commander of the Forces recommends the companies of the -5/60th regiment to the particular care of the officers commanding -the brigades to which they are attached: they will find them to be -most useful, active, and brave troops in the field, and they will add -essentially to the strength of their brigades.”—_General Orders_, p. -262. - -[87] These “independent rifle companies” of the K.G.L., which appear -in so many “morning states,” were isolated men left behind (mainly, no -doubt, in hospital) by the two “Light Battalions” of the K.G.L. when -they left Portugal in company with Sir John Moore. - -[88] To descend into detail, in May, 1811, the 5/60th supplied light -companies to Stopford’s, Nightingale’s, Mackinnon’s (3 companies), -Myers’, Hulse’s, Colborne’s, Hoghton’s, and Abercrombie’s brigades. The -Brunswick Oels Jägers supplied the extra company to Hay’s and Dunlop’s -brigades, while the rest of the battalion was in Sontag’s brigade. The -3/95th gave a company to Howard’s brigade, while the other battalions -of this famous rifle corps were in the two brigades of the Light -Division. The German brigade of Löwe had its own “independent light -companies.” Only Colville’s and Burne’s brigades had no such provision -in the whole army. - -[89] Save in Hamilton’s Portuguese division, which did not get its -Caçador battalions till 1812. - -[90] In 1811 of the armies opposed to Wellington (Soult’s and -Marmont’s) there was one division of 6 battalions, one of 9, two of -10, one of 11, seven of 12, one of 13. The battalions varied from 400 -apiece in the 5th corps to over 600 in the 1st corps. The average was -about 500, not including men detached or in hospital. A _voltigeur_ -company would have varied between 80 and 110 men. - -[91] Note especially Vigo-Roussillon’s account of Barrosa, where he -speaks of his regiment having pierced the first British line, when -all that it really did was to thrust back four companies of the 95th -rifles, and two of the 20th Portuguese. Similarly Reynier’s report on -Bussaco says that Merle’s division broke the front line of Picton, and -only failed before his second. But the “front line” was only five light -companies. - -[92] Wellington to Beresford, _Dispatches_, vii. p. 427. - -[93] If the _ordre mixte_ was formed by a regiment of three battalions -of 600 men each, only 634 men out of 1800 were in the front two ranks. -If by a regiment of four battalions (two deployed, two in column in the -flanks), the slightly better result of 1034 men out of 2400 able to use -their muskets would be produced. - -[94] This I have from a document in the archives of the Ministry of War -at Paris, which says that “the line of attack was formed by a brigade -in column of attack. To its right and left the front line was in a -mixed formation; that is to say, on each side of the central column -was a battalion deployed in line, and on each of the outer sides of -the deployed battalions was a battalion or regiment in column, so that -at each end the line was composed of a column ready to form square, in -case hostile cavalry should attempt to fall upon one of our flanks.” - -[95] A phrase used by a French marshal at Bussaco! - -[96] Reprinted by General Trochu in his _Armée française en 1867_, pp. -239, 240. - -[97] See page 87 above. - -[98] For details see below, in the chapter dealing with General Picton, -p. 134. - -[99] Though a few depleted regiments also went home, so that the total -strength never was over 18 regiments, 9000 horse or under, to 70,000 -men in all. See pages 192–3. - -[100] See _Dispatches_, vol. viii. p. 112. - -[101] _General Orders_ (collected volume), pp. 481, 482. - -[102] See Chapter XVIII., “A note on Sieges.” - -[103] See the Diary of Major Brooke, in _Blackwood_ for 1908, p. 448, -which I edited. - -[104] _Memoirs of Sergeant Donaldson (94th)_, ii. p. 217, and _cf._ for -a similar story, _Rifleman Harris_, pp. 30, 31. - -[105] See Sidney’s _Life of Lord Hill_, p. 228. - -[106] He wanted, he wrote, “to have a place of meeting where they can -enjoy social intercourse combined with economy, and cultivate old -acquaintance formed on service.” Hitherto “officers coming to town -for a short period were driven into expensive and bad taverns and -coffee-houses, without a chance of meeting their friends or any good -society.” - -[107] _Twenty-five Years in the Rifle Brigade_, by Surtees of the 95th. - -[108] Caddell of the 28th, p. 99. - -[109] Especially Bunbury, Dallas, and Blakeney. - -[110] “Le général était de haute stature,” says Vigo-Roussillon: “il -avait les cheveux tous blancs, et était encore alerte et très vif, -quoiqu’il avait soixante ans. Sa physionomie noble et ouverte m’avait -inspiré le respect, même sur le champ de bataille.”—_Revue des deux -Mondes_, August, 1891. - -[111] Stanhope’s _Conversations with Wellington_, p. 69. - -[112] _Kincaid_, p. 116. - -[113] That he made the request is definitely stated in Stanhope’s -_Conversations_, p. 69. - -[114] Grattan’s _Adventures with the Connaught Rangers_, p. 16. - -[115] _Grattan_, pp. 116, 117. - -[116] See McCarthy’s _Siege of Badajoz_, p. 35, and Robinson’s _Life of -Picton_, ii. p. 170. - -[117] McCarthy’s _Siege of Badajoz_, p. 41. - -[118] Robinson’s _Life of Picton_, ii. p. 390. - -[119] See especially McCarthy, quoted above, and Macpherson (notes in -_Robinson_, ii. pp. 394–397). - -[120] Cole’s _Peninsular Generals_, ii. p. 84. - -[121] His brother, Sir Charles Craufurd, had married the Dowager -Duchess of Newcastle, and as the duke was a minor, his mother and her -husband disposed of the Pelham pocket-boroughs and other patronage. - -[122] He was absent on leave from the winter of 1810 till May 1811, and -only just rejoined in time for the battle of Fuentes de Oñoro. - -[123] All this comes from Shaw-Kennedy’s Diary, which is printed at -length in a most unlikely place,—the Appendix to Lord F. Fitzclarence’s -_Manual of Outpost Duties_, a book of the 1840’s. - -[124] See _Larpent’s Journal_, p. 85, and Alex. Craufurd’s _Life of -General Robert Craufurd_, pp. 184, 185. - -[125] William Napier refused to subscribe to a testimonial to Alten at -the end of the war, openly saying that he saw no sufficient merit in -him. - -[126] For a bitter story of how his brigadiers, Barclay and Beckwith, -spoke of him, see Moore-Smith’s _Life of Colborne_, p. 174. _Cf._ -too p. 35 of Hay’s _Reminiscences_ of 1808–15, for an anecdote of -Craufurd’s occasional snubbing of his officers. _Cf._ also George -Simmond’s _British Rifleman_, pp. 26, 27. - -[127] Jan. 20, 1912, in a letter from Colonel Willoughby Verner. - -[128] See Hay’s _Peninsular Reminiscences, 1808–15_. - -[129] See _Rifleman Harris_, p. 206. - -[130] Hardinge advised the advance, but it was Cole who, being in -responsible command, ordered and executed it. He it is who should have -the credit both for the resolve and for the tactics. - -[131] See Wellington to Torrens (the patronage secretary at the Horse -Guards), August 4, 1810. - -[132] See, _e.g._, Wellington, _Dispatches_, vi., under Oct. 4, 1810. -Among the generals whose departure he viewed (for various reasons) with -equanimity, were Sir Robert Wilson, Lightburne, Tilson, and Nightingale. - -[133] _Minute_ on p. 572 of the _Collected General Orders_. - -[134] Stewart chafed at his checks, and wrote bitterly to Castlereagh -about the insignificance of his position. - -[135] See Chapter XVIII. on Sieges, p. 286. - -[136] For special note as to the functions of the “Staff Corps of -Cavalry” raised in March, 1813, see the _General Order_ of that date. -This body must be carefully distinguished from the Staff Corps, -concerning which see Fortescue’s _British Army_, iv. p. 881: it was a -kind of subsidiary corps of military artificers, independent of the -Ordnance Office to which “Royal Military Artificers” belonged. This was -a vicious duplication of parallel organizations. - -[137] _General Order_, Freneda, Nov. 1, 1811. - -[138] _Private Journal of Judge-Advocate Larpent, 1812–14_, published -London, 1853. - -[139] Names may suffice to show the class from which they were drawn: -Marquis of Worcester, Lord March, Bathurst, Bouverie, Burghersh, -Canning, Manners, Stanhope, Fremantle, Gordon, de Burgh, Cadogan, -Fitzroy Somerset. - -[140] See note on page 270 of chapter xvi on “Impedimenta.” - -[141] See _General Order_ of May 4, 1809. - -[142] Its most ambitious efforts were a small volume of maps printed at -Cambray, during the occupation of France after Waterloo, with notes by -Col. Carmichael Smith, R.E., and the _General Orders_ for 1815, printed -at Paris, by Sergeant Buchan, 3rd Guards, head printer to the Army of -Occupation. - -[143] See, for example, York’s Alkmaar dispatch of Oct. 6, 1799. - -[144] _E.g._ in Walsh’s _Expedition to Holland_ in 1799, p. 22, the -whole original landing force of the British, 15,000 bayonets, is called -the “first division,” but only in contrast to the troops not yet -landed, not technically. - -[145] With the exception, of course, that the 1st and 3rd Caçador -battalions served all through the war in the two brigades of the Light -Division. - -[146] See p. 83. - -[147] 1/43rd, 1/52nd, 1/95th. - -[148] 2/5th, 1/11th, 2/28th, 2/34th, 2/39th, 2/42nd, 2/58th. The 1/40th -and 2/24th joined Wellington in time for Talavera. - -[149] The original British brigade of the 5th division consisted of the -3/1st, 1/9th, and 2/38th. - -[150] The 2/30th and 2/44th, to which the 1/4th was subsequently added. - -[151] The name Army-Corps appears first in the Waterloo Campaign of -1815. - -[152] The succession of brigadiers seems to have been, in the one -brigade, Pack followed by Wilson and Alex. Campbell; in the other -Bradford continued almost through the whole war, but McMahon was in -command in part of 1811–12. After June, 1811, Ashworth’s Brigade was -regularly attached to the 2nd division. - -[153] Now no longer wanted, as Leith had received his second British -brigade. - -[154] 2nd, 1/36th, and (added long months after) the 1/32nd. - -[155] 1/50th, 1/71st, and 1/92nd. - -[156] 51st, 85th, with the Chasseurs Britanniques and the Brunswick -Oels Jägers. The 68th joined in July, but the 85th went home in October. - -[157] 1st and 2nd Light Battalions, K.G.L., which landed very late, -joined Beresford’s army in Estremadura, and only united with their -proper division in June. - -[158] See notes on these battalions in the chapter on “The Auxiliaries.” - -[159] After Albuera their nickname was changed to “the Enthusiastics.” - -[160] This happened with the 5th, 28th, 38th, 39th, 42nd. The 2/4th and -2/52nd came out for a short time, and then discharged their serviceable -men into their 1st battalion, and went home. - -[161] See p. 166. - -[162] These thirty-seven were the 2nd, 12th, 13th, 16th, 17th, 19th, -20th, 22nd, 29th, 33rd, 37th, 41st, 46th, 49th, 51st, 54th, 55th, 64th, -65th, 68th, 70th, 74th, 75th, 76th, 77th, 80th, 85th, 86th, 93rd, 94th, -and 97th to 103rd. - -[163] Which were intended for home service only, and were called the -“Army of Reserve.” But ere long they were utilized for general service. - -[164] The regiments which raised belated second battalions were the -12th (in 1813), the 22nd (in 1814), the 37th (in 1811), the 41st (in -1814), the 73rd (in 1809), the 86th (in 1814), the 93rd (in 1814). The -95th (in 1809), and the 56th in 1813, raised a _third_ battalion. - -[165] For all the establishments see Table in Appendix I. - -[166] This was the case with the 7th, 48th, 52nd and 88th in 1811. - -[167] The 3rd Hussars, K.G.L., 2/14th, 2/23rd, 2/43rd, 2/81st, never -returned to serve under Wellington in 1809–14. - -[168] In 1810 the following returned to Portugal 3/1st, 1/4th, 1/9th, -1/50th, 1/71st, 1/79th. In 1811 the following: 2nd, 1/26th, 1/28th, -1/32nd, 1/36th, 51st, 2/52nd, 1st and 2nd Light K.G.L. In 1812 the -following: 1/5th, 1/6th, 20th, 1/38th, 1/42nd, 2/59th, 1/82nd, 1/91st. -In 1813 the 7th, 10th, 15th, 18th Hussars, the first and third -battalions of the 1st Foot Guards, and the 76th. - -[169] These were the 1/3rd, 2/9th, 29th, 1/40th, 1/45th, 5/60th, 97th, -the 1st, 2nd, 5th, 7th Line Battalions of the K.G.L., and the 20th -Light Dragoons, the last-named incomplete. - -[170] The regiments which arrived with Wellesley, or before him, during -the spring and the preceding winter of 1808–1809, were 3/27th, 2/31st, -and 14th Light Dragoons, during the winter; in April, 1st Coldstream -Guards, 1st Scots Fusilier Guards, 2/7th, 2/30th, 2/48th, 2/53rd, -2/66th, 2/83rd, 2/87th, 1/88th, 16th Light Dragoons, 3rd Dragoon -Guards, 4th Dragoons. - -[171] Since April there had come out the 23rd Light Dragoons, 1st -Hussars, K.G.L., 1/61st, 1/48th, 2/24th; but the 20th Light Dragoons -had been deducted (sent to Sicily), while the 2/9th and 2/30th had been -sent back to Lisbon, for passage to Gibraltar. The net gain, therefore, -between April and July was only one cavalry regiment. - -[172] To recapitulate again. 1st battalions: 1/3rd, 1/40th, 1/45th, -1/48th, 1/61st, 1/88th. 2nd battalions: 2/7th, 2/31st, 2/24th, 2/48th, -2/53rd, 2/66th, 2/83rd, 2/87th. Other junior battalions: 3/27th (left -at Lisbon), 5/60th. Single battalion regiments, 29th, 97th. There were -also two “Battalions of Detachments.” - -[173] The strongest battalions at Talavera were 1/3rd Foot Guards 1019, -1st Coldstream 970, 1/48th 807; the weakest were 2/66th 526, 97th 502, -2/83rd 535. - -[174] Viz. 2/7th, 2/48th. - -[175] 2/24th, 2/31st, 2/53rd, 2/66th. The first battalions of three of -these were in the East Indies, that of the fourth in Sicily. - -[176] 1/7th, 1/11th, 1/23rd, 1/37th, 1/39th, 1/57th. - -[177] 2/5th, 2/34th, 2/38th, 2/44th, 2/47th, 2/58th, 2/62nd, 2/84th. - -[178] 68th, 74th, 77th, 85th, 94th. - -[179] This was the case with the 2/62nd, 77th, 1/37th, 2/84th. - -[180] The sixth of the units of the provisional battalions being a -single battalion corps, the 2nd Foot or Queen’s. - -[181] Typical figures are 77th, landed in July 859 of all ranks—had -only 560 present in September. The 68th, landed about the same time, -had 233 sick to 412 effective: the 51st, landed in April, 246 sick -to 251 effective! But the 51st had lost men in the second siege of -Badajoz. The other two regiments had not seen much service. - -[182] Over 14,000 men in October, 1811. - -[183] Wellington wrote to the Secretary of War (Lord Bathurst), “I -assure you that some of the best battalions with the army are the -provisional battalions. I have lately seen two of these engaged, that -formed of the 2/24th and 2/58th, and that formed from the 2nd Queen’s -and 2/53rd: it is impossible for any troops to behave better. The same -arrangement could now be applied with great advantage to the 51st and -68th, and also to other regiments” (_Dispatches_, x. p. 629). There was -another “provisional battalion” composed of the 2/30th and 2/44th for a -short time in 1812–13. - -[184] Probably a year later Wellington would not have allowed the 29th -and 97th, both old single battalion regiments sent home after Albuera, -to depart, but would have worked them together as a “provisional -battalion.” He expresses great regret in his private correspondence at -losing two excellent units because they had fallen to about 250 men -each. - -[185] After Albuera, where they both suffered heavily, the 2nd was sent -home, discharging its serviceable men into the 1st, which was the first -connection with the sister-battalion that it had. - -[186] Such figures are, however, occasionally found, _e.g._ the 1/4th -at Bussaco, and the 1/43rd in September, 1811, had over 1000 of all -ranks. So had the 1/42nd at Salamanca. - -[187] These chanced to be the 1/43rd and the 2/38th respectively. The -two Guards battalions were each just under 900 of all ranks at this -time. - -[188] 3rd Dragoon Guards, 1st and 4th Dragoons, 14th and 16th Light -Dragoons, 1st Hussars, K.G.L. - -[189] 13th Light Dragoons. - -[190] 3rd, 4th, 5th Dragoon Guards; 1st, 3rd, and 4th Dragoons; -9th, 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th, 16th Light Dragoons; 1st and 2nd Heavy -Dragoons, K.G.L.; 1st and 2nd Hussars, K.G.L. - -[191] Tomkinson in his diary observes (p. 230) that the 11th Light -Dragoons was not in such bad state as the other condemned regiments, -but that their colonel was so senior that he stood in the way of the -promotion of several more capable officers to command brigades—hence -Wellington resolved to get him out of the country. - -[192] _Dispatches_, vii. p. 58. To Lord Liverpool. - -[193] 9th and 11th Light Dragoons, 4th Dragoon Guards, 2nd Hussars, -K.G.L. - -[194] Viz. the 1st Royals, 13th, 14th, and 16th Light Dragoons, and 1st -Hussars, K.G.L. See _General Orders_, October 2, 1811. - -[195] In the Talavera army, taking the general totals, there were 536 -lieutenants to 259 ensigns; in the Bussaco army 624 to 237; in the 1811 -army (March) 739 to 323—in each case more than two to one. - -[196] Viz. killed, the Brigadier-Gen. Hoghton and one major, wounded -two lieutenant-colonels and two majors. - -[197] Picton, though wounded in the foot at Badajoz, rode with his -division for some time after it marched from Estremadura for the North, -but the wound getting inflamed he was compelled to go into hospital, -and Wallace had his place for some weeks in June, Pakenham appearing as -divisional commander in July. - -[198] See the bitter remarks on pp. 367–369 on Blakeney’s -Autobiography. For a number of illustrative anecdotes see Leach’s -curious little book, _Rambles on the Banks of Styx_, which is full of -Peninsular grievances. - -[199] The allusion is to the obscure business of influence in -distributing commissions said to have been used by the Duke of York’s -mistress, Mrs. Mary Ann Clarke. - -[200] For more of this pamphlet, see Stocqueler’s _Personal History of -the Horse Guards_, pp. 60–67. - -[201] For an astounding story of an ensign who had been a -billiard-marker in Dublin, and who was ultimately cashiered for theft, -see Col. Bunbury’s _Reminiscences_, vol. i. pp. 26–28. - -[202] _Memoirs of Captain George Ellers, 12th Foot_, p. 43. - -[203] See the instances in _General Orders_ for April 23, 1810, and -July 16, 1812. - -[204] For a good example, see _Dickson Papers_, pp. 622, 623, where the -good Dickson gets one officer to own that he was “betrayed in a moment -of intoxication” into insulting words, and the other to say that the -counter-charge with which he replied was made “in a moment of great -irritation and passion.” The apologies were both passed as satisfactory. - -[205] A series of court-martials in one Peninsular battalion shows us -such a picture, with the colonel on one side and the two majors on -the other. The former prosecuted the senior major for embezzlement, -while at the same moment a subaltern was “broke” for alleging that the -junior major had shown cowardice in the field. The Horse Guards finally -dispersed all the officers into different corps, as the only way of -ending the feud. - -[206] See pp. 121–2 of vol. ii. of Robinson’s _Life of Picton_. - -[207] Letter printed in _Vie Militaire_, _ed._ Girod de l’Ain, p. 98. - -[208] See the heading “Lisbon” in the collected volume of _General -Orders_, pp. 206, 207. - -[209] _General Orders_, Freneda, December 4, 1811. For anecdotes about -this officer’s shirking propensities, see pp. 27–36 of the second -series of Grattan’s _Adventures with the Connaught Rangers_. He was -ultimately cashiered. - -[210] Gleig’s _Reminiscences of Wellington_, p. 303. - -[211] _Conversations with Duke of Wellington_, pp. 13 and 18. - -[212] See, for an instance, pp. 249–50. - -[213] When the 90th was raised in 1794, out of the 746 men 165 were -English and 56 Irish—not much less than a third of the whole. Cf. -Delavoye’s _History of the 90th_, p. 3. In the Waterloo campaign the -71st had 83 English and 56 Irish in its ranks. - -[214] Woolwright’s _History of the 77th_, p. 29. - -[215] Rogerson’s _History of the 53rd_, p. 35. - -[216] See Fortescue’s _History of the British Army_, vi. pp. 180–183. - -[217] To quote an interesting explanatory note from the autobiography -of Morris of the 73rd. “The militia would be drawn up in line, and the -officers for the regiments requiring volunteers would give a glowing -description of their several corps, describing the victories they had -gained, and the honours they had acquired, and conclude by offering -the bounty. If these inducements were not effectual in getting men, -coercive measures were adopted: the militia colonel would put on -heavy and long drills and field exercises, which were so tedious and -oppressive that many men would embrace the alternative, and volunteer -for the regulars” (p. 13). - -[218] A canny Scot makes his explanation for volunteering in a fashion -which combines patriotism, love of adventure, and calculation. “In the -militia I serve secure of life and limb, but with no prospect of future -benefit for old age (pension) to which I may attain. It is better to -hazard both abroad in the regular service, than to have poverty and -hard-labour accompanying me to a peaceful grave at home.” Anton’s -_Retrospect of a Military Life_, p. 39. - -[219] See the amusing narrative of Lawrence of the 20th and his two -evasions from his stone-mason employer. - -[220] See Stanhope’s _Conversations with Wellington_, p. 13. - -[221] Journal of T. S. of the 71st in Constable’s _Memorials of the -Late War_, i. p. 25. - -[222] Note by Colborne on p. 396 of his _Life_ by Moore-Smith. - -[223] _Rifleman Harris_, pp. 10–16. - -[224] In the Court-Martials on privates printed in _General Orders_, -out of 280 trials I make out 80 certainly Irish names, and a good many -more probably Irish—while there are only 23 Scots. There were certainly -not four times as many Irish as Scots in the Peninsular Army, though -there were more than twice as many. - -[225] See also Stanhope’s _Conversations with Wellington_, p. 6. - -[226] _Twenty-five Years in the Rifle Brigade_, pp. 47, 48. - -[227] Both court-martialled, of course: see _General Orders_, vol. vii. - -[228] This incident occurs in the unprinted letters of F. Monro, R.A., -lent to me by his kinsfolk of to-day. - -[229] One of the Duke’s acrid generalizations on this point was “the -non-commissioned officers of the Guards regularly got drunk once a day, -by eight in the evening, and got to bed soon after—but they always took -care to do first what they were bid.”—Stanhope’s _Conversations with -the Duke of Wellington_, p. 18. - -[230] See Anton’s (42nd, Black Watch) _Retrospect of a Military Life_, -pp. 239, 240. - -[231] _Retrospect of a Military Life_, pp. 57, 58. - -[232] _Memoirs of Sergeant Morley, 5th Foot_, p. 101. - -[233] The survivors in 1809 were the regiments of de Meuron, Rolle, -Dillon, and de Watteville. - -[234] This proviso was neither submitted to nor approved by the British -Government, who refused to take notice of it. Napoleon, during many -disputes as to the exchange of prisoners in later years, always found -a good excuse for breaking off negociations in the fact that he held -that 4000 or 5000 Hanoverians of the K.G.L. should be reckoned as men -requiring exchange. - -[235] I note among the deserters from the German Legion in 1812–14 the -strange and non-Teutonic names of Gormowsky, Melofsky, Schilinsky, -Wutgok, Prochinsky, Borofsky, Ferdinando, Panderan, Kowalzuch, -Matteivich, etc. - -[236] The other two names are one Swiss the other Croatian. - -[237] Names such as Davy, Woodgate, Galiffe, Andrews, McKenzie, Holmes, -Linstow, Wynne, Joyce, Gilbert are unmistakably British. See Colonel -Rigaud’s _History of the 5/60th_, Appendix i. - -[238] See p. 120. - -[239] See pp. 168–9. - -[240] This corps only raised its second battalion in 1811. - -[241] Algarve, Nos. 2 (Lagos) and 14 (Tavira). Alemtejo, Nos. 5 and 17 -(1st and 2nd of Elvas), 8 (Evora), 20 (Campomayor), 22 (Serpa). Lisbon, -Nos. 1, 4, 10, 16. Estremadura, No. 7 (Setubal), 19 (Cascaes), 11 -(Peniche). Beira, Nos. 3 and 15 (raised in the Lamego district), 11 and -23 (1st and 2nd of Almeida). Oporto region, Nos. 6 and 18 (1st and 2nd -of Oporto), 9 (Viana), 21 (Valença). Tras-os-Montes, Nos. 12 (Chaves), -and 24 (Braganza). - -[242] The three Lusitanian battalions wore a uniform of ivy-green, -the nine others a dark brown dress. The cut of both was fashioned in -imitation of that of the British Rifle Brigade. - -[243] Beresford to Wellington, _Supplementary Dispatches_, vi. p. 774. - -[244] From a memorandum by Benjamin D’Urban, Beresford’s -Quartermaster-General, or rather Chief of the Staff, in the unpublished -D’Urban papers. - -[245] From a letter to his friend, J. Wilson, in the unpublished -D’Urban Correspondence. - -[246] General Orders, Santa Marinha, March 25, 1811. - -[247] The case of an officer who openly cohabited with the wife of a -private, and fought with and thrashed her not-unreasonably jealous -husband. - -[248] See General Orders, July 2, 1813. - -[249] There is a long quarrel of this sort between Colonel Cochrane of -the 36th and General A. Campbell, whose original cause was in details -of mismanagement at the escape of Brennier from Almeida. - -[250] General Orders, Lesaca, September 20, 1813. In this case a -lieutenant of the 5/60th had been condemned for violently resisting -the turning out of his horses from a stable by his senior, “using -opprobrious and disgraceful language” and threatening to strike him. - -[251] General Orders, Garris, February 24, 1814. - -[252] _Ibid._, Freneda, February 3, 1813. - -[253] See _Wellington Dispatches_, vol. ii., pp. 330 and 369, and for -his recapture Stepney’s _Diary_, p. 55. - -[254] Case of Corporal Hammond of the 87th, January 24, 1810. - -[255] Viz. 5/60th, 97th, 1, 2, 5, 7 Line of the K.G.L., 1 and 2 Light -K.G.L., Brunswick Oels and _Chasseurs Britanniques_. - -[256] The tale comes from p. xxxi. of the Introduction to the -_Collected General Orders_. - -[257] General Orders, September 22, 1809. - -[258] See the printed report of the Long _Court-Martial on Colonel -Quentin_, London, 1814, p. 272. - -[259] Printed in _General Orders_, vol. v. 1813, the accused being Col. -Archdall of the 1/40th. - -[260] Sergeant Donaldson’s _Eventful Life of a Soldier_, pp. 145, 146. - -[261] There are Peninsular-period Good-Conduct medals for the 10th and -11th Hussars (starting 1812), 5th Foot (Northumberland Fusiliers), 7th -Fusiliers, 22nd, 38th, 52nd, 71st, 74th, 88th, 95th, 97th, and some -other corps, not to speak of others which were medals for special deeds -of courage or for marksmanship. - -[262] See Hope’s _Memoirs of an Infantry Officer, 1808–15_, pp. 459–60. - -[263] This is said to have been the case in the 1/48th when it was -under Colonel Donnellan, who fell at Talavera. - -[264] _Autobiography of Sergeant William Lawrence_, pp. 48, 49. - -[265] _Rough Notes_, by Sir George Bell, i. p. 120. - -[266] Probably the case of a private of the 34th who had struck his -captain, in a rage. This flogging (1813) was the only one of such -severity which occurred in the regiment while Bell was serving with it -in 1812–1814. - -[267] See footnote to p. xxv. of _Selected General Orders_. - -[268] These can be found in _Fitzclarence on Outpost Duty_, mentioned -above, in which they were printed at full length. It is still easy to -procure. - -[269] Donaldson of the 94th, pp. 179–181. - -[270] General Order, May 23, 1809. - -[271] See reproofs in 1811 and 1812 in _Collected General Orders_, p. -20. - -[272] “Under the orders of Sir John Moore a horse or mule was allowed -to each captain of a company of infantry, and a horse or mule in common -among the subalterns. And under the orders of Sir John Cradock, which -have been the rule for this army, the subalterns were allowed a horse -or mule between them” (_General Orders_, p. 122). - -[273] I find, _e.g._, in diaries, that 2nd Lieut. Hough, R.A., got “two -domestics, a country horse, and a mule” immediately on landing. Geo. -Simmons and Harry Smith of the 95th were certainly habitually riding -when only lieutenants. So was Grattan of the 88th. Bell of the 34th -being impecunious had “only half a _burro_ along with another lad.” -Bunbury of the Buffs had half a horse and half a mule in conjunction -with another subaltern. Hay of the 52nd was just in the regulation with -one mule to himself, on his first campaign, but bought a Portuguese -mare before he had been a year in the field. - -[274] From that amusing piece of doggerel (strictly contemporary) _The -Military Adventures of Johnny Newcome_. - -[275] Notes to _Johnny Newcome_, p. 30. - -[276] Grattan of the 88th, selling his horse on leaving the Peninsula -at the Lisbon Horse-Fair, says that he got 125 dollars for it, -equalling at the then rate of exchange £31 5_s._ Boothby, R.E., buying -a red English stallion, considers himself very lucky to get it for 30 -guineas. A donkey fetched about 15 dollars only. - -[277] There are several court-martials on officers who (disregarding -this order) kept a soldier-servant or bâtman out of the ranks. - -[278] One officer relates that he came upon his own mule-boy, aged ten -or twelve, deliberately beating out the brains of a wounded Frenchman, -at Salamanca, with a large stone. Another diarist speaks of making -a wounded Frenchman comfortable while he went for a surgeon, and -returning to find him stabbed and stripped. A third (F. Monro, R.A.) -says, “I found myself among the dead and dying, to the shame of human -nature be it said, _both_ stripped, some half-naked, some wholly so, -and this done principally by those infernal devils in mortal shape, -the cruel, cowardly Portuguese followers, unfeeling ruffians. The -Portuguese pillaged and plundered _our own wounded officers_ before -they were dead!” - -[279] See Ross Lewin’s _With the 32nd in the Peninsular War_, p. 205. - -[280] Sergeant Anton’s _Retrospect of a Military Life_, pp. 60, 61. - -[281] _Rough Notes of an Old Soldier_, vol. i. pp. 74, 75. - -[282] Wellington (General Order of April 26, 1814) makes the concession -that colonels may permit “a few who have proved themselves useful and -regular,” to accompany the soldiers to whom they are attached “with a -view to being ultimately married.” - -[283] For details see Donaldson’s _Eventful Life of a Soldier_, pp. -231, 232. - -[284] _History of the Peninsular War_, vol. iv. p. 276. Also mentioned -in Tomkinson’s _Diary_, p. 185. - -[285] _Memoirs of Lejeune_, vol. ii. p. 108. I am a little inclined to -think that this may have been the household establishment of Hill’s -senior aide-de-camp, Currie, as the sight was seen by Lejeune in the -Elvas-Olivenza direction, where the 2nd division was then quartered. - -[286] See Dickson Papers I., p. 448. - -[287] This letter, found among Lord Liverpool’s papers in 1869, was -communicated to me by Mr. F. Turner of Frome. - -[288] See Connolly’s _Royal Sappers and Miners_, pp. 187–8 and 194. - -[289] Jones, _Sieges of the Peninsula_, i. p. 169. - -[290] _General Orders_, p. 275. - -[291] Jones’ _Sieges of the Peninsula_, ii. p. 97. - -[292] Grattan’s _With the Connaught Rangers_, pp. 193, 194. - -[293] Grattan, dealing with the Storm of Rodrigo, p. 145. - -[294] Sergeant Donaldson, p. 155: he is speaking of the last assault on -Badajoz. - -[295] Instead of the brass plate with regimental badge or number, the -Light infantry and rifles had only a bugle-horn. - -[296] Light infantry had a small green tuft on the front of the shako; -regiments of the rest of the line a larger upright plume fixed on the -side. - -[297] Cooke of the 43rd says (in his _Narrative of Events in the South -of France_, p. 67) that “distorted by alternate rain and sunshine, as -well as by having served as pillows and nightcaps, our caps had assumed -the most monstrous and grotesque shapes.” - -[298] Grattan’s _Connaught Rangers_, p. 51. - -[299] See Leslie’s edition of the _Dickson Papers_, ii. p. 994. - -[300] _Memoirs of Captain Ellers_, p. 124 (dealing with the year 1800). -“He never wore powder though it was the regulation to do so. His hair -was cropped close. I have heard him say that hair powder was very -prejudicial to the health, as impeding perspiration, and he was no -doubt right.” - -[301] See for example the description of the 43rd preparing to storm -Rodrigo, in Grattan, p. 145. - -[302] _Military Journal of Col. Leslie of Balquhain_, p. 229. - -[303] _Memoirs of Captain Cooke_, ii. p. 76. - -[304] 7th, 10th, 15th Hussars. The 18th were still called Light -Dragoons in 1808. - -[305] In April, 1813, 10th, 15th, 18th Hussars, the 7th Hussars -followed in September of the same year. - -[306] Ker-Porter’s _Letters from Portugal and Spain, 1808–9_, p. 219. - -[307] The Royal Military Artificers were wearing in the early years of -the century a most extraordinary and ugly head-dress, a tall top-hat -with brim, looking more fit for civilian’s wear, and having nothing -military about it except the “shaving-brush” stuck at one side. It was -not unlike, however, the hat of the Marines. For illustration of it see -the plates in Connolly’s _History of the Royal Sappers and Miners_, -vol. i. - -[308] There are plenty of stories about him in Grattan’s _With the -Connaught Rangers_. This one, however, is from Bell’s _Rough Notes_, i. -95. - -[309] See the letter in General Rigaud’s _History of the 5/60th_. - -[310] See illustration in Plate 8 of a sergeant and private in winter -marching order. - -[311] There is a curious anecdote in the diary (p. 28) of Cooper of -the 1/7th, of a sergeant, who, running with the point of his pike low, -caught it in the ground, and fell forward on its butt-end, which went -right through his body. - -[312] _E.g._ there is a Waterloo story of a sergeant of the 18th -Hussars, who long engaged with a cuirassier, and unable to get at him -because of his armour and helm, ultimately killed him with a thrust in -the mouth. I should not like to take it as certain. - -[313] For ample details about them see Mr. Milne’s _Standards and -Colours of the Army_, Leeds, 1893. - -[314] _Autobiography of Sergt. Lawrence_, p. 239. - -[315] See above, p. 161. - -[316] See p. 283. - -[317] Cf. p. 266 above. - -[318] Hennegan’s _Seven Years’ Campaigning_, i. p. 52. - -[319] Dallas was taking care of the brigade of Skerrett, then marching -(Oct., 1812) from Seville to Aranjuez, right across Central Spain. - -[320] Autobiography of the Rev. Alexander Dallas, London, 1871, pp. 59, -60. - -[321] For the maddening delays, caused by the impossibility of finding -a mule-train ready to go back to the front, a good example may be found -in the autobiography of Quartermaster Surtees of the 95th, stranded at -Abrantes for unending weeks in the late autumn of 1812 with the new -clothing of his battalion, which (as he knew) was suffering bitterly -for want of it. - -[322] See Donaldson’s _Eventful Life of a Soldier_, pp. 219, 220. - -[323] Surtees’s _Twenty-five Years in the Rifle Brigade_, pp. 173, 175. - -[324] From _Travels and Adventures of Bugler William Green, late of the -Rifle Brigade_, Coventry, 1857—a most interesting little book. - -[325] _Memoirs of John Stevenson, 3rd Foot Guards_, p. 191. - -[326] Recorded in Tancred’s _Historical Medals_: for details see -Stevenson, as also the _Life of a Scottish Soldier_, which is a 71st -book (p. 118). - -[327] The absurd semi-religious correspondence of the Duke and ‘Miss -J.’ in the 1840’s, published some ten years back may be remembered. - -[328] Sir H. Calvert, Adjutant General, to Wellington, 8th November, -1811. - -[329] See Stevenson, p. 172. - -[330] Surtees, pp. 177–9. - -[331] For the “Belemites” see above, pp. 204–5. - -[332] Who “never went into action without subjecting himself to a -strict self-examination, when after having (as he humbly hoped) made -his peace with God, he left the result in His hands with perfect -confidence that He will determine what is best for him.”—See Cole’s -_Peninsular Generals_, ii. 292. - -[333] In 1809 the 14th, formerly Bedfordshire, took the Territorial -Designation of Bucks; and the 16th, formerly Bucks, became Beds. - -[334] Of these 25, twenty had been with Moore’s army in the Corunna -Retreat, and 23 went to Walcheren. - -[335] Of these 42, seven had been with Moore’s army in the Corunna -Retreat, and 14 went to Walcheren. - -[336] Of these 11, three (l/43rd, 1/52nd, 1/95th) had been with Moore’s -army. - -[337] Of these 3, one (3/1st) had been with Moore’s army in the Corunna -Retreat and went to Walcheren. - -[338] 9th, 30th, 47th, 48th, 53rd, 56th, 83rd, 84th, 87th. The 83rd was -far over this figure, 2461, a wholly exceptional strength. - -[339] 4th, 5th, 7th, 11th, 23rd, 24th, 28th, 31st, 42nd, 43rd, 44th, -52nd, 66th, 67th, 81st, 88th, 89th. - -[340] 6th, 21st, 32nd, 34th, 35th, 38th, 39th, 40th, 50th, 58th, 61st, -71st, 78th, 79th, 82nd, 92nd. - -[341] 3rd, 8th, 10th, 18th, 26th, 36th, 45th, 57th, 62nd, 63rd, 72nd, -90th. - -[342] 15th, 25th, 59th, 69th, 73rd, 91st, 96th. - -[343] 13th, 17th, 29th, 76th, 80th, 93rd. - -[344] 2nd, 12th, 19th, 20th, 22nd, 33rd, 49th, 51st, 64th, 97th, 90th, -101st, 102nd. - -[345] 37th, 41st, 54th, 55th, 65th, 68th, 70th, 74th, 75th, 77th, 85th, -86th, 94th, 99th, 100th. - -[346] 16th, 46th, 103rd. - -[347] The 94th went out to Cadiz in 1810; the 75th, not long back from -India, was very weak and did not go on foreign service (Sicily) till -1812. - -[348] This brigade was added to IV on January 2. - -[349] These regiments had arrived at Lisbon in April, but having been -at Walcheren were not at first sent into the field till July, since the -8th of which month they had been shown as a brigade under Leith. - -[350] Some accounts represent the Light Battalions as forming a -separate brigade under Halkett. - -[351] Not the same man who commanded the 7th Division in 1812, but the -1st Earl of Hopetoun. - - - - -INDEX - - - A. - - Abrantes, importance of, as a depôt, 311 - - Accursio das Neves, José, Portuguese historian, 21 - - Adjutant-General, office and duties of, in Wellington’s army, 156–7 - - Albuera, battle of, strictures on Napier’s account of, 2; - use of the _ordre mixte_ by the French at, 85, 86; - Blakeney’s account of, 86; - W. Stewart’s blunder at, 88; - Beresford’s mistakes at, 120; - losses at, 190; - gallant behaviour of Harvey’s brigade at, 234 - - Americans, the Royal, or 60th Foot, their rifle-battalion, 75, - 227–228; - its uniform, 300 - - American War of 1775–82, use of light troops in, 75 - - American War of 1812–14, its influence on the Peninsular War, 308 - - _Archives de la Guerre_, French military documents at, 16 - - _Archives Nationales_, French military documents at, 16 - - Arroyo dos Molinos, surprise of the French at, 109, 117 - - Arteche, General, his History of the Peninsular War, 38 - - Artificers, the Royal Military, 281; - reorganized as Sappers and Miners, 285–6; - uniform of, 299 - - Artillery, Wellington’s use of, 113; - distribution of, in divisions, 176; - weakness of, in Wellington’s army, 281; - use of, in sieges, 281–3; - uniform of, 298 - - Auxiliary troops, the German and Portuguese, with Wellington’s army, - 220–36 - - - B. - - Badajoz, gallant services of Engineers at, 47, 48; - storming of, 57; - Picton at, 135; - sack of, 213, 290; - sieges of, 281–3, 284–5, 289 - - Baggage, with the British army, 268–71 - - Baird, General Sir David, his despatches in the Record Office, 15 - - “Baker Rifle,” the, 302–3 - - Barnard, Colonel Sir Andrew, commands Light Division after Craufurd’s - death, 197–8 - - Barquilla, combat of, 100 - - Bathurst, Lieut.-Col. James, Military Secretary to Wellington, 153 - - Battalions, establishment of the various, in the British army, 178–81; - _and see_ Appendix I - - Beamish, Major Ludlow, his _History of the King’s German Legion_, 34; - his description of combat of Garcia Hernandez, 101, 221 - - Beckwith, Colonel John, his dealings with the Waldenses, 331 - - “Belemites,” or “Belem Rangers,” the, 204, 328 - - Bell, Sir George, his _Rough Notes of Fifty Years’ Service_, 24, 254; - his description of soldiers’ wives, 274–5 - - Bell, Sir John, his notes on Craufurd’s march to Talavera, 24 - - Belmas, Colonel, his _Journaux des Sièges dans la Peninsule, - 1807–13_, 21 - - Bentinck, Lord W., his dispatches, 15 - - Beresford, William Carr, Lord, his strictures on Napier’s _History_, 2; - his General Orders for the Portuguese Army, 13; - account of, by Cole, 36; - Wellington’s regard for, 46; - his character and capacity, 119; - reorganizes the Portuguese army, 119–20, 231–3; - Wellington’s confidence in, 120 - - Blakeney, Captain Robert, 28th Foot, his Autobiography, _A Boy in the - Peninsular War_, 22, 25, 28, 29, 200 - - Blakeney, Colonel T., 7th Foot, his account of Albuera, 86 - - Blakiston, Major John, his _Memoirs_, 35 - - Blayney, Lord, his MS. at the Record Office, 15 - - Bock, General, his mismanagement of cavalry at Venta del Pozo, 108; - his exploit at Garcia Hernandez, 176, 224 - - Boothby, Captain Charles, R.E., his diaries, 7, 34, 331 - - Botelho, Major Texiera, his history of Portuguese Artillery, 35 - - Borthwick, Major-General, chief of artillery, 158 - - Brigades, the, of Wellington’s army, their organization, 163–71; - _and see_ Appendix II - - “Brown Bess” used in Peninsular army, 301 - - Brunswick Oels, regiment, history of, by Colonel Kortfleisch, 35; - used as light infantry, 76; - services of, in the Peninsula, 224, 225, 243 - - Bugeaud, Marshal, his account of an attack of column on line, 90–2 - - Bunbury, Colonel Thomas, Memoirs of, 35 - - Burgos, Wellington’s retreat from, 58, 59; - hardships of the retreat, 266, 267; - siege of, 286, 287 - - Bussaco, battle of, Wellington’s tactics at, 80, 89; - Craufurd’s tactics at, 145; - Light Division Caçadores at, 234 - - - C. - - Caçadores, Portuguese light battalions with British army, 83, 230; - uniform of, 301 - - Camp-followers, with the Peninsular army, 272–3 - - Camp-kettles, improvements in, 263 - - Campo-Mayor, cavalry charge at, 105 - - Canning, George, his correspondence with Wellington about the war, 52 - - Cannon, Richard, his edition of Regimental Histories, 32–3 - - _Capataz_, the Portuguese, 312–13 - - Cashiering, the punishment of, how earned, 238–40 - - Castlereagh, Robert Stewart, Viscount, his correspondence with Sir J. - Moore, 15, 183; - with Wellington, 50; - develops system of recruiting from the militia, 209 - - Cavalry, the, Wellington’s tactics, 94; - difficulties of, in the Peninsula, 95–7; - French tactics, 97–102; - Wellington’s use of, 102–4; - his remarks on British cavalry, 104, 109; - shortcomings of British cavalry leaders, 106; - Wellington’s “Instructions” for, 111, 112; - strength of, in Wellington’s army, 191–4; - uniforms of, 296–8 - - Chaplains, army, their shortcomings, Wellington asks for adequate - establishment of, 325–6 - - _Chasseurs Britanniques_, no History of, 35; - services of, 76, 86–7; - formation and doings of, 225–7; - desertion prevalent in, 243 - - Cimitière, Captain, command of a brigade devolved on, after - Albuera, 196–7 - - Ciudad Rodrigo, storming of, 57; - Craufurd slain at, 146; - sack of, 213; - siege of, 283, 289 - - Cocked hat, the, disused by regimental officers, 293–4; - worn by heavy dragoons, 296; - by doctors and commissaries, 299 - - “Conversion,” some anecdotes concerning, 322–4 - - Corporal punishment, Wellington on, 43; - details of, 148, 237–8, 251–4 - - Clerc, Commandant, his account of Soult’s Pyrenean campaign, 38 - - Coa, combat of the, 144 - - Coiners in the army, 214 - - Colborne, Sir John, Lord Seaton, Life of, by Moore Smith, 37; - his remarks on Wellington’s Waterloo dispatch, 48; - commands brigade at Albuera, 197; - his remarks on the system of recruiting, 212; - his religious character, 330 - - Cole, J. W., his _Memoirs of British Generals_, 36 - - Cole, General Sir Lowry, his controversy with Napier, 2; - his achievement at Albuera, 150 - - Combermere, Lord. _See_ Cotton - - Commissariat Department, importance of, 161; - management of, in Wellington’s army, 307–19 - - Commissary-General, his duties, 161, 311–14 - - Connaught Rangers, feud of, with Picton, 133; - anecdotes of, 246–7 - - Connolly, T., his _History of the Royal Sappers and Miners_, 34 - - Cooper, J., Sergeant 7th Foot, his _Seven Campaigns in Portugal_, 31 - - Cope, Sir W. H., his _History of the Rifle Brigade_, 33 - - Costello, Edward, his _Reminiscences_, 30 - - Cotton, Sir Stapleton, Lord Combermere, biography of, 36; - Wellington’s opinion of, 46; - his capacity as leader of cavalry, 103, 104, 106, 110, 176 - - Court-martials, character of, 241–8 - - Craufurd, General Robert, his treatment by Wellington, 46; - his abilities and career, 139–40; - captured at Buenos Ayres, 141; - commands the Light Division, 142–4, 167; - fights the combat of the Coa, 144; - his relations with Wellington, 145; - repulses Ney at Bussaco, 145; - his retreat at Fuentes de Oñoro, 145; - killed at Ciudad Rodrigo, 146; - incident at his funeral, 149; - institution of the Light Division, 168–9; - his arrangements for marching, 263 - - Crime in the army, 237–51 - - Currie, Captain R., his wife with the army, 276, 278, _note_. - - - D. - - Dalbiac, Mrs., her adventures at Salamanca, 277 - - Dallas, Rev. Alexander, his diary, 7; - description of his commissariat work, 317; - takes orders, 331 - - Delafosse, Lemonnier, his _Souvenirs Militaires_, 31 - - Desertion, punishment of, 243; - prevalence of, in the foreign corps, 223, 225–6 - - Dickson, Colonel Sir Alexander, commands artillery, 158; - at the sieges of Badajoz, 281–3; - at Villa da Ponte, 312; - his papers edited by Major Leslie, 22, 34 - - D’Illens, Major A., his reminiscences of Soult’s campaigns, 32 - - Dispatches, the Wellington, 9–12; - Supplementary, 12 - - Divisions, the, of Wellington’s army, 163–77; - sobriquets of, 172; - _and see_ Appendix II - - Donaldson, Sergeant Joseph, 94th Foot, his Reminiscences, 30; - anecdotes from, 249–50, 290, 322 - - Douro, river, importance of, as a line of supply, 312 - - Dragoons, uniform of, Heavy and Light, 296–7 - - Drill-books, the French, 63, 69; - the British, 77 - - Duels, in the Army, 201–2 - - Dumas, Colonel, his account of Soult’s campaign in the Pyrenees, 38 - - Dundas, Sir David, his views on tactics, 77 - - D’Urban, General Sir Benjamin, criticizes Napier, 2; - his memorandum on the Portuguese army, 233; - at Salamanca, 234; - his account of Majadahonda, 235 - - - E. - - El Bodon, retreat of British troops in square at, 100; - Grattan’s description of Picton at, 134 - - Elphinstone, Lieut.-Colonel, commands Royal Engineers, 158 - - Engineers, rank and file of, called “Royal Military Artificers,” and - later “Royal Sappers and Miners,” 281, 286; - weakness of Wellington’s army in, 281; - Wellington’s criticism of, 284–5 - - Erskine, General Sir William, Wellington’s mention of him in - dispatches, 47; - his blunders at Casal Novo and Sabugal, 151 - - Executions, by shooting, 243; - by hanging, 244 - - - F. - - Fantin des Odoards, General L., his Memoirs, 31 - - Fisher, Colonel G. B., chief of artillery, 158 - - Flanders, British campaigns of 1793–4 in, 4, 66, 74, 80 - - “Flankers,” use of, in the British army, 74–5 - - Fletcher, Colonel Richard, remarks on Wellington’s omission to mention - Engineers at Badajoz, 48; - Wellington’s instructions to, for Lines of Torres Vedras, 53; - commanding officer of Royal Engineers, 158 - - Forage, difficulty of providing, 112, 269 - - Fortescue, Hon. J., his _History of the British Army_, 38, 208 - - Foy, General M., his _Guerre de la Peninsule_, 19; - his Life, 19; - his estimate of English infantry, 20; - remarks on Wellington’s strategy at Salamanca, 58; - records Napoleon’s views on infantry tactics, 72; - his account of cavalry charge at Garcia Hernandez, 101; - his testimony to British officers, 204; - his description of the impedimenta with the British army on - the march, 268; - note of, on the British dragoon uniform, 297 - - Foz d’Arouce, Ney surprised at, 109 - - Framingham, Colonel H., chief of artillery, 158 - - Frederic the Great, infantry tactics of, 62; - followed by French, 63–5, 69–70; - his cavalry tactics, 97–8 - - French Revolutionary War, its importance in English history, - 4, 5, 320–1; - tactics of the, 63–8 - - Fuente Guinaldo, Wellington’s tactics at, 55, 81 - - Fuentes de Oñoro, Wellington’s omission to mention artillery - service at, 47; - retreat of the Light Division at, 100; - cavalry at, 103; - Chasseurs Britanniques at, 227 - - Fusil, the, 302 - - - G. - - Garcia Hernandez, combat of, 101, 103, 224 - - Gardyne, Colonel, his _Life of a Regiment_, 33 - - “General Orders,” Wellington’s collection of, its value, 13; - Beresford’s for the Portuguese Army, 13 - - “Gentlemen Rankers,” notes on, 214–15 - - German Legion, the King’s, History of, by Major Beamish, 34; - by Captain Schwertfeger, 34; - Light Battalions of, 76; - dragoons of, at Garcia Hernandez, 101; - outpost work of its hussars, 111; - good management of their horses, 112; - under Craufurd, 143; - raised in 1804, 221; - in the Peninsula, 222–4, 242; - uniform of, 298, 300 - - Gleig, Rev. G. R., his Diary, 7; - _The Subaltern_, 25, 27, 331 - - Gomm, Sir William, his Life, 6; - journals, 17 - - Gonneville, Colonel A. O., his Memories of the War in Spain, 32 - - Gordon, Colonel James, Quartermaster General, 156 - - Gough, Hugh, Lord, Life of, by R. S. Rait, 37 - - Graham, Sir Thomas, Lord Lynedoch, his diary, 5–6; - Life of, by Captain Delavoye, 35; - Wellington’s confidence in, 46; - his career, 122; - commands British troops at Cadiz, 123; - his victory at Barrosa, 124; - his failure at Bergen-op-Zoom, 126; - his character and popularity, 127 - - Grattan, W., his _With the Connaught Rangers_, 27; - complains of Wellington’s forgetfulness of Peninsular services, 49; - his description of Picton, 132, 133; - of the storm of Ciudad Rodrigo, 290; - his description of the uniforms of the army, 293 - - Guards battalions in Wellington’s army, 179, 180, 181, 194 - - Guides, Corps of, in Wellington’s army, 158, 159 - - Guingret, Captain, his reminiscences of Masséna’s campaign in - Portugal, 32 - - Guidons, disuse of, by the cavalry, 305 - - Gurwood, Colonel J., his edition of Wellington’s Dispatches, 9–12, 19 - - Guibert, General, tactical theories of, 63, 64, 70 - - - H. - - Hair-powder, disused on active service, 293; - Wellington’s dislike for, 294 - - Halberd, the, proper weapon of sergeants, 303 - - Hamilton, Colonel H. B., his _History of the 14th Light Dragoons_, 33 - - Hardinge, Sir Henry, his controversy with Napier, 2 - - Harris, Rifleman, of the 95th, 3, 31; - his views on Craufurd, 147, 148 - - Hawker, Colonel Peter, his _Journal of the Talavera Campaign_, 17 - - Henegan, Sir R. D., his _Seven Years of Campaigning_, 25; - describes the march of a convoy, 315 - - Hill, Rowland, Lord, his Life by Sidney, 36; - Wellington’s regard for, 46; - his success at Arroyo dos Molinos, 109, 117; - character of, 115–116; - his capacity as a leader, 116–117; - Wellington’s confidence in, 117; - his brilliant achievement at St. Pierre, 118; - commander-in-chief, 118; - commands the 2nd Division, 166; - religious character of, 330 - - Horse Artillery, in the Peninsular Army, 177; - uniform of, 299 - - Horses, difficulty of feeding, in the Peninsula, 112–13; - private horses of officers, 269–71 - - Howarth, Brigadier-General E., chief of artillery in Wellington’s - army, 157 - - Hussars, uniform of, 298 - - - I. - - Infantry tactics, the, of Wellington, 61–93; - French system of, 63; - in Wellington’s army, 178–91 - - - J. - - Jones, Sir John, his _Journal of the Sieges in Spain, in 1811–12_, 21; - remarks on Wellington’s omission to record services of Engineers at - Badajoz, 47; - his note on the siege of St. Sebastian, 288 - - Jourdan, Jean-Baptiste, Marshal, his _Guerre d’Espagne_, 20 - - - K. - - Ker-Porter, Sir Robert, his _Journal, 1808–9_, 17 - - Kincaid, Sir John, 6 _note_; - his _Adventures in the Rifle Brigade_, 28; - his account of Ciudad Rodrigo, 130 - - King’s German Legion. _See_ German Legion - - - L. - - Ladies at the front, 276–8 - - La Peña, General, his inactivity at Barrosa, 124 - - Lapène, Major, his histories of Soult’s campaigns, 20 - - Larpent, Francis, his _Private Journal_, 17, 159 - - Latour-Maubourg, General, defeat of, by Lumley at Usagre, 107–8 - - Lawrence, W., 40th Foot, his flogging, 253; - anecdote of his experiences at Waterloo, 306 - - Leach, Col. J., his _Rough Sketches of the Life of an Old Soldier_, 24 - - Leith, Gen. Sir James, his dispatches at the Record Office, 15; - memoirs of, 37; - commands 5th Division, 169 - - Lejeune, General, his picture of An English Officer’s family on - the march, 278 - - Le Marchant, General Sir John Gaspard, his cavalry charge at - Salamanca, 103, 104, 176; - head of the Military College, 204; - his religious convictions, 330 - - Lemonnier, Delafosse, his _Souvenirs Militaires_, 31 - - Leslie, Major John, his edition of the _Dickson Papers_, 34 - - Leslie, Colonel T., of Balquhain, his _Military Journal_, 24 - - Light companies, use of, 74 - - Light Division, institution of, 83, 168; - achievements of under Craufurd, 142–9; - at Bussaco, 145; - at Fuentes de Oñoro, 145; - commanded by Alten, 146 - - Line _v._ Column, 61–92 - - Ligny, Prussian tactics at, Wellington’s views on, 80–1 - - Londonderry, Chas. Stewart, Lord, his _History of the Peninsular - War_, 12, 18; - Adjutant-General in Wellington’s Army, 156–7 - - Long, General, R. B., his desponding views, 41; - weak operations of, 106 - - Lumley, General W., at Usagre, 103; - at Albuera, 107; - praise of, by Picard, 107 - - Lusitanian Legion, the Loyal, formed by Sir R. Wilson, 84, 229 - - Luz, Soriano da, his _History of the Peninsular War_, 38 - - Lynedoch, Lord. _See_ Graham, Sir Thomas - - - M. - - Mackinnon, General H., his Journal, 17 - - Maguilla, cavalry combat of, 105 - - Maguire, Lieutenant, leads the “forlorn hope” at San Sebastian, 293 - - Maida, battle of, the use of skirmishers at, 74; - tactics at, 77, 78 - - Marbot, General M., uses Napier’s History, 23; - his mistakes and exaggerations, 26 - - March, the army on the, account of, 255–65; - Foy’s description of the British, 268 - - Marmont, Auguste, Marshal, his autobiography, 20; - his misrepresentations, 26; - commands Army of Portugal, 56 - - Masséna, André, Marshal, his invasion of Portugal in 1809, 53; - foiled by Lines of Torres Vedras, 53 - - Masterson, Sergeant, captures an eagle at Barrosa, 206 - - McGrigor, Sir James, his anecdotes of Wellington, 44, 45; - his account of the Medical Department in the Peninsular army, 160 - - Medals, institution of, for good service in the regiments, 251 - - Medical Department, the, 160 - - Menil-Durand, General, his system of infantry tactics, 63 - - Methodists, the, influence of, in the army, 320–31 - - Military Secretary, office of the, at Headquarters, 152–3 - - Militia, recruiting from, in Wellington’s Army, 209–11 - - Minorca Regiment, Stuart’s, later 97th, 227–8 - - Money, current, difficulty of providing, in the Peninsula, 161, - 214, 270, 317 - - Moore, General Sir John, biography of, by Sir F. Maurice, 37; - his views on the defence of Portugal, 51; - his army, 183 - - Moorsom, Captain W. S., his _History of the 52nd Oxfordshire Light - Infantry_, 33 - - Mules, use of, for baggage and transport, 269–71, 308–9 - - Muleteers, organization of, for the army, 312, 313 - - Murray, Colonel George, Quartermaster-General to Wellington’s army, - 155–6 - - Murray, John, Commissary-General, 156, 161 - - Murray, Major-General John, 15, 47, 155 - - - N. - - Napier, Sir William, criticism of his _Peninsular War_ by Beresford, - Cole, Hardinge, D’Urban, etc., 2; - his History, 18; - its influence on other publications, 23, 24, 29, 32; - his controversy with Picton’s biographer, 36; - complains of want of recompense of Peninsular veterans, 49; - overstates Craufurd’s march to Talavera, 141, 167; - his severe judgment of Craufurd, 147; - his failure to appreciate the work of the Portuguese army, 234 - - Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor, his tactics at Marengo, 69; - his infantry tactics, 70; - his use of cavalry, 97; - at Waterloo, 102; - his use of artillery, 113, 177 - - Naval predominance of Great Britain, its importance, 310–11 - - Newman, Sergeant, of 43rd, his exploit, 206 - - Nive, battle of, Wellington’s tactics at, 59 - - - O. - - Officers, establishment of, in Wellington’s army, 195; - promotion among, 198–201; - training of, 203; - discipline of, 237–42 - - Oporto, campaign of, Wellington’s, 163, 164 - - Ordenança, the Portuguese, 235–6 - - Orders, General, publication of, 13; - the Portuguese, 13; - account of the marching of the army in, 255–65 - - _Ordre mixte_, the, Napoleon’s preference for, 70–72 - - Organization, the, of Wellington’s army, 153–77, and Appendix II - - Ormsby, Rev. J. W., his _Journal of the Campaigns of 1809_, 9, 17, 325 - - Owen, Rev. T., army chaplain, his gallant behaviour in action, 327 - - Ox-waggons, use of, its drawbacks, 314–15 - - - P. - - Pack, Sir Denis, Life of, 37 - - Paget, Lord, his ability as a cavalry leader, 106 - - Pakenham, Major-General Edward, commands expedition to New - Orleans, 151; - Adjutant-General in Wellington’s army, 157; - commands 3rd Division at Salamanca, 198 - - Parquin, Captain D., his memoirs, 32 - - Paymaster-General, office of, 161 - - Peninsular War, history of, by Napier, 2, 18, 23, 24, 29, 32, 36; - by Southey, 18; - by Toreno, 21; - by Accursio das Neves, 21; - by Arteche, 38; - by Soriano da Luz, 38; - by Balagny, 38 - - Prisoners, the French, 14; - recruiting of foreign corps from, 225–6 - - Picton, General Sir Thomas, Life of, by H. B. Robinson, 36; - his personal relations with Wellington, 44, 46, 137, 138; - character and career of, 129–38; - Governor of Trinidad, 130; - description of, by Grattan, 132, 133; - at El Bodon, 134; - his successful storm of the castle at Badajoz, 135, 284; - wounded at Quatre Bras, 135; - killed at Waterloo, 136; - estimate of his character and abilities, 136–8 - - Popham, Sir Home, his MS. at the Record Office, 15 - - Portugal, defence of, Wellington’s scheme for, 50 - - Portuguese Army, account of, 35; - artillery of, by Major Botelho, 35; - troops incorporated in British Army, 83, 168; - organization of, by Beresford, 119–122, 231–3; - its composition, 229–33 - - Press, the Travelling, of Wellington’s army, 162 - - Promotion, system of, in British army, 198; - from the ranks 206–7 - - “Provisional Battalions,” history of the, 187–8 - - Purveyor’s Department, the 160 - - - Q. - - Quartermaster-General, office of, in Wellington’s army, 155–6; - duties of his subordinates, 258–9 - - Quill, Doctor Maurice, surgeon of the Connaught Rangers, anecdotes of, - 299 - - - R. - - Rae, John, 71st Foot, his exploit at Sobral, 324 - - Raglan, Lord. _See_ Somerset, Lord Fitzroy - - Record Office, Peninsular documents in, 14 - - Recruiting, notes on, 208–213 - - Regiments, internal organization of, 208–219 - - Regimental Histories, series, compiled by R. Cannon, 32; - later histories, 33–4 - - Reille, General, his mistake at Quatre Bras, 81 - - Religion, influence of, in Peninsular army, 6–7, 320–1 - - Reprimands, punishment by, 240–2 - - Revolution, the French, British detestation of, 5, 320–1 - - Reynier, General J. L., at Maida, 77, 78; - at Bussaco, 85 - - Rifle battalions, formed in the British army, 75; - use of, by Wellington, 83, 84; - uniform of, 300–1 - - Rifle, the Baker type, its character, 302–3 - - Rifle Brigade, the 95th Foot, 75, 305 - - Rifleman Harris, 3, 23, 31; - his account of Craufurd, 147–8 - - Roberts, Lord, his estimate of Wellington’s character, 49 - - Rocca, Captain M., his account of the war in Spain, 32 - - Rodrigo, Ciudad. _See_ under Ciudad Rodrigo - - Ross, General W., commands expedition to America, 151 - - Royal Military College, the, 203–4 - - Russian War, its effect on the Peninsular War, 56, 59 - - - S. - - Sabugal, combat of, 86 - - Salamanca, Wellington’s sudden attack at, 57; - his tactics at, 80; - use of cavalry at, 97, 170 - - San Sebastian, sack of, 213; - siege of, 287–8; - the Portuguese infantry at, 234 - - Sappers and Miners, the Royal, 286; - uniform of, 299; - weapons of, 304–5 - - Saxe, Marshal, infantry tactics of, 62, 63, 65 - - Schepeler, Colonel K., his _History of the Peninsular War_, 20 - - Scouts, Wellington’s, 53 - - Seaton, Lord. _See_ Colborne - - Sergeants, status of, in the Peninsular army, 216–19; - their halberds, 303 - - Shako, introduction of, in the British army, 292–3 - - Shaw-Kennedy, T., aide-de-camp to Craufurd, his description of - Craufurd, 143 - - Sherbrooke, General J. C., commands the 1st Division, 166 - - Sherer, Captain Moyle, his _Recollections of the Peninsula_, 27 - - Shipp, John, his autobiography, 3; - his romantic career, 206 - - Siege train, Wellington’s, organized by Alex. Dickson, 281–3 - - Sieges, the, of the Peninsular War, 279; - of Badajoz, 281–6; - of Ciudad Rodrigo, 283; - of Burgos, 286–7; - of San Sebastian, 288 - - Silveira, General, commands Portuguese Militia, 235 - - Simmons, George, 95th Foot, his _Journal_, 17 - - Slade, General J., his rash charge at Maguilla, 105; - Wellington’s remarks on, 106; - estimate of his capacity, 151 - - Smith, Sir Harry, his Autobiography, 28; - romantic story of his marriage, 277 - - Somerset, Lord Fitzroy (afterwards Lord Raglan), Military Secretary to - Wellington, 153; - aide-de-camp to Wellington, 160 - - Sorauren, battle of, Wellington’s tactics at, 54, 81 - - Soult, Nicolas, Marshal, at Sorauren, 54, 55; - at St. Pierre, 118; - at San Sebastian, 288 - - Southey, Robert, his _History of the Peninsular War_, 18 - - Spain, geography of, 93–7 - - Spencer, Sir Brent, Wellington’s confidence in, 46; - his limitations, 151 - - “Spring Waggons,” the, 314 - - Sprünglin, Colonel, his autobiography, 22, 32 - - St. Chamans, Colonel, his Memoirs, 31, 32 - - St. Cyr, Gouvion, Marshal, his History of the War, 20 - - St. Pierre, Hill at the battle of, 118; - gallant conduct of Ashworth’s Portuguese at, 234 - - Staff Corps Cavalry, duties of the, 150 - - Standards, types of, used in Wellington’s army, 305–6 - - Stevenson, Sergeant, J., his memoirs, 4; - his religious convictions, 324; - description of the Methodist meetings at Badajoz, 329–30 - - Stewart, Sir Charles. _See_ Londonderry - - Store-keeper General, office of, 162 - - Stothert, Captain W., his _Diary of 1809–11_, 17 - - Suchet, Marshal Louis Gabriel, his account of the war in Catalonia, 20 - - Surtees, Sergeant W., his religious experiences, 7; - his reminiscences, 30, 215; - his remarks on army chaplains, 328 - - “Suspension,” punishment of, 240–1 - - Swords, types of, used by Peninsular army, 303–4 - - - T. - - T. S. of the 71st Foot, his autobiography, 30; - why he joined the army, 211–12 - - Tactics, infantry, French, 63–73; - British, 74–91 - - Talavera, battle of, Wellington’s tactics at, 80, 82; - charge of 23rd Light Dragoons at, 105 - - Tarleton, Colonel B., his History of the War in Carolina, 3; - his “Legion” of light troops, 75 - - Tents, advantages and disadvantages of, 259–60, 264–5 - - Thiébault, General Dieudonné, his account of the war in Portugal, 20; - of the combat of Aldea da Ponte, 26 - - Tirailleurs, employed in French army, 65–7, 69 - - Tomkinson, Colonel W., his Diary, 17, 106; - his Notes on British Cavalry Regiments, 110, 193 - - Torres Vedras, Lines of, Wellington orders their construction - in 1809, 52–3 - - Toreno, Conde de, his _History of the Peninsular War_, 21 - - Trant, Colonel N., leads Portuguese militia, 235 - - Trousers, introduced in the British army, 294–6 - - - U. - - Uniforms, the, in the Peninsular army, 292 - - Usagre, cavalry combat of, 105 - - - V. - - Vaughan, Sir Charles, his dispatches, 15; - his MSS., 16 - - Venta del Pozo, cavalry combat of, 103, 108 - - Victor, Claude Perrin, Marshal, defeated at Barrosa, 124 - - Vigo-Roussillon, Colonel, his account of Barrosa, 32; - his appreciation of Graham, 127 - - Vimeiro, battle of, Wellington’s tactics at, 80 - - Vivian, Hussey, Lord, 6; - Life of, 37 - - “Volunteers,” their status, 196 - - - W. - - Walcheren, expedition, the, disastrous effects of on health of - regiments, 187 - - Wallace, Colonel W., commands 3rd Division after fall of Badajoz, 198 - - Warre, Sir George, his _Letters_ of 1808–12, 17 - - Waterloo, battle of, Wellington’s tactics at, 80, 87 - - Wellesley, Henry, diplomatist, his dispatches at the Record - Office, 15, 106 - - Wellington, Arthur Wellesley, Duke of, his dispatch concerning - preaching officers, 7; - Gurwood’s edition of his Dispatches, 9–12; - the Supplementary Dispatches, 12; - his General Orders, 13; - views on publication of historical information, 9; - his story of a visit to Blücher before Waterloo, 25; - his early career, 39–41; - his relations with his troops, 41–3; - with his officers, 43; - autocratic temper, 46; - his dispatches, 47; - Lord Roberts’ estimate of him, 49; - extraordinary prescience of the course of the war, 50–3; - his long-sighted calculation, 53–5; - his strategy, 55; - in offensive warfare, 57–80; - his infantry tactics, 61, 73–93; - his views on French tactics, 78; - his tactics at Vimeiro, Bussaco, Salamanca, Waterloo, 80; - remarks on the triumph of line over column, 86; - his cavalry tactics, 94–102, 104; - remarks on British cavalry, 104–109; - “Instructions for Cavalry,” 111, 112; - his confidence in Hill, 117; - in Beresford, 120; - in Graham, 125; - his relations with Craufurd, 144; - his estimate of Erskine, 151; - his organization of the army, 154; - his rapid early promotion, 199; - remarks on promotion from the ranks, 206–7; - adventure with the plunderer of bee-hives, 246; - his orders for the army on the march, 255, 263; - his remarks on the third siege of Badajoz, 284; - at the siege of Burgos, 287; - his attitude toward religion, 324–5; - requisitions chaplains for the army, 325–7 - - Wellington, Arthur Richard Wellesley, second Duke of, his publication - of the Supplementary Dispatches, 9, 12 - - Wesleys, the, influence of, 320 - - Whinyates, Colonel F. A., his history _From Corunna to Sebastopol_, 33 - - Windham, William, his appreciation of Craufurd, 140 - - Wives, the soldiers’, at the front, 274–6 - - Woodberry, Lieutenant G., 18th Hussars, his Diary, 6 - - - Y. - - York, Frederick, Duke of, his campaign in Flanders, 66, 74; - his views on infantry tactics, 77; - on promotion in the army, 199–200 - - -THE END - - - PRINTED BY - WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED - LONDON AND BECCLES - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes - - -Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a -predominant preference was found in this book. - -Simple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced quotation marks -were corrected when the change was obvious. - -Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained. - -The index was not systematically checked for proper alphabetization or -correct page references. - -Sidenotes in this eBook contain the text of running headers in the -original book. They have been placed between paragraphs that were -near those headers. Like the original headers, the sidenotes are not -necessarily at the beginnings of the topics to which they refer. - -Page 193: “lost so many men as the 2nd” was misprinted with a gap where -the word “as” should have been; corrected here. - -Page 252: “to two of three” was printed that way. - -Page 295: Transcriber added a missing closing quotation mark after “if -we fancied it.” The correct position may be later in the paragraph. - -Tables on pages 333, 340 and 341: Asterisks in these tables are not -references to footnotes; their purpose is explained on page 333: “The -star * affixed to a battalion’s station means that it had just returned -from Sir John Moore’s Corunna Campaign.” - -Page 339: “only two (2/5th 2/34th, 2/38th)” was printed that way, with -“two” and no comma after the first number. - -Footnote 344, originally on page 338: “97th, 90th, 101st, 102nd” -probably includes a misprint, as “90th” is out of sequence and already -was mentioned in Footnote 341. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Wellington's Army 1809-1814, by Charles Oman - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WELLINGTON'S ARMY 1809-1814 *** - -***** This file should be named 56318-0.txt or 56318-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/3/1/56318/ - -Produced by Brian Coe, Charlie Howard, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Wellington's Army 1809-1814 - -Author: Charles Oman - -Release Date: January 5, 2018 [EBook #56318] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WELLINGTON'S ARMY 1809-1814 *** - - - - -Produced by Brian Coe, Charlie Howard, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="transnote covernote"> -<p class="center">Transcriber’s Note: Cover created by Transcriber and placed in the Public Domain.</p> -</div> - -<h1 class="wspace">WELLINGTON’S ARMY</h1> - -<div id="if_i_000" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 29.625em;"><p><i>PLATE I.</i></p> -<img src="images/i_000.jpg" width="474" height="600" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington.</span></p> - -<p class="smaller"><i>From a portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence.</i></p></div></div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="newpage p4 center xxlarge bold vspace"> -WELLINGTON’S<br /> -ARMY<br /> -<span class="small">1809–1814</span></p> - -<p class="p2 center vspace wspace">BY<br /> -<span class="large">C. W. C. OMAN</span><br /> -<span class="small">M.A. OXON., HON. LL.D. EDIN.<br /> -CHICHELE PROFESSOR OF MODERN HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD</span></p> - -<p class="p2 center larger">WITH ILLUSTRATIONS</p> - -<p class="p2 center larger"><i>SECOND IMPRESSION</i></p> - -<p class="p2 center vspace">LONDON<br /> -<span class="larger">EDWARD ARNOLD</span><br /> -1913<br /> -<span class="smaller">[<i>All rights reserved</i>]</span> -</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="PREFACE">PREFACE</h2> -</div> - -<p>Much has been written concerning Wellington and his -famous Peninsular Army in the way of formal history: -this volume, however, will I think contain somewhat that -is new to most students concerning its organization, its -day by day life, and its psychology. To understand the -exploits of Wellington’s men, it does not suffice to read a -mere chronicle of their marches and battles. I have -endeavoured to collect in these pages notices of those -aspects of their life with which no strategical or tactical -work can deal, though tactics and even strategy will not -be found unnoticed.</p> - -<p>My special thanks are due to my friend Mr. C. T. -Atkinson, Fellow of Exeter College, Oxford, for allowing -me to use the admirable list of the brigade and divisional -organization of the Peninsular Army which forms Appendix -II. It is largely expanded from the article on the same -topic which he printed eight years ago in the <cite>Historical -Review</cite>, and enables the reader to find out the precise -composition of every one of Wellington’s units at any -moment between April, 1808 and April, 1814. I have -also to express my gratitude to the Hon. John Fortescue, -the author of the great <cite>History of the British Army</cite>, for -answering a good many queries which I should have found -hard to solve without his aid. The index is by the same -loving hand which has worked on so many of my earlier -volumes.</p> - -<p class="sigright larger"> -C. OMAN. -</p> - -<p class="smaller"> -<span class="smcap">Oxford</span>,<br /> -<span class="in4"><i>September, 1912</i>.</span> -</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">vii</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table id="toc" summary="Contents"> - <tr class="small"> - <td class="tdr l2">CHAPTER</td> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdr">PAGE</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">I.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Introductory—The Old Peninsular Army</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">1</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">II.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Sources of Information—The Literature of the Peninsular War</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">9</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">III.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Duke of Wellington—The Man and the Strategist</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">39</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">IV.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Wellington’s Infantry Tactics—Line <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">versus</i> Column</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">61</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">V.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Wellington’s Tactics—The Cavalry and Artillery</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">94</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">VI.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Wellington’s Lieutenants—Hill, Beresford, Graham</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">115</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">VII.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Wellington’s Lieutenants—Picton, Craufurd, and Others</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">129</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">VIII.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Organization of the Army: Headquarters</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">153</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">IX.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Organization of the Army: Brigades and Divisions</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">163</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">X.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Organization of the Army: The Regiments</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">178</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">XI.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Internal Organization of the Regiment: The Officers</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">195</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">XII.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Internal Organization of the Regiment: The Rank and File</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">208</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">XIII.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Auxiliaries: The Germans and the Portuguese</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">220</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">XIV.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Discipline and Court-Martials</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">237</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">XV.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Army on the March</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">255</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">XVI.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Impedimenta: The Baggage: Ladies at the Front</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">268</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">XVII.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Note on Sieges</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">279</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">viii</span></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">XVIII.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Uniforms and Weapons</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">292</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">XIX.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Commissariat</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">307</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr l2">XX.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Note on the Spiritual Life</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">320</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top rpad"><span class="smcap">Appendix I.</span></td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Establishment and Stations of the British Army in 1809</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#APPENDIX_I">333</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top rpad"><span class="smcap">Appendix II.</span></td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Divisions and Brigades of the Peninsular Army, 1809–1814, by C. T. Atkinson, M.A., Fellow of Exeter College, Oxford</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#APPENDIX_II">343</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top rpad"><span class="smcap">Appendix III.</span></td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Bibliography of English Diaries, Journals and Memoirs of the Peninsular War</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#APPENDIX_III">375</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Index</span></td> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#INDEX">385</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">ix</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - -<table id="loi" summary="List of Illustrations"> - <tr class="small"> - <td class="tdr top"><span class="smcap larger">Plate</span></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">I.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington</span> <br /><i>From a portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence</i></td> - <td class="tdr top right"><a href="#if_i_000"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> - <tr class="small"> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdr" colspan="2">FACING PAGE</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">II.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Lord Hill, G.C.B.</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_118">118</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">III.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">General Thomas Graham, Baron Lynedoch, G.C.B., G.C.M.G. <br /><i>From the picture by Sir George Hayter</i></span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_126">126</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">IV.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">General Sir Thomas Picton, K.C.B.</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_138">138</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">V.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Officer of Rifles, 1809</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_189">188</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Private, Infantry of the Line, 1809</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_189">188</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">VI.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Officer of Light Dragoons, Uniform of 1809</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_194">194</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Officer of Light Dragoons, Uniform of 1813</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_194">194</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">VII.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Private of Heavy Dragoons, 1809</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_284">284</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Officer of Field Artillery, 1809</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_284">284</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr top">VIII.</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Sergeant and Private of Infantry in Winter Marching Order, 1813</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#ip_296">296</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">1</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><span class="large wspace">WELLINGTON’S ARMY</span></h2> -</div> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_I" class="nobreak vspace">CHAPTER I<br /> - -<span class="subhead">INTRODUCTORY—THE OLD PENINSULAR ARMY</span></h2> - -<p>While working for the last nine years at the History of -the Peninsular War, I have (as was inevitable) been compelled -to accumulate many notes, and much miscellaneous -information which does not bear upon the actual chronicle -of events in the various campaigns that lie between 1808 -and 1814, but yet possesses high interest in itself, and -throws many a side-light on the general course of the war. -Roughly speaking, these notes relate either to the personal -characteristics of that famous old army of Wellington, -which, as he himself said, “could go anywhere and do anything,” -or to its inner mechanism—the details of its management. -I purpose to speak in these pages of the leaders -and the led; of the daily life, manners, and customs of -the Peninsular Army, as much as of its composition and its -organization. I shall be dealing with the rank and file -no less than with the officers, and must even find space for a -few pages on that curious and polyglot horde of camp -followers which trailed at the heels of the army, and frequently -raised problems which worried not only colonels -and adjutants, but even the Great Duke himself.</p> - -<p>There is an immense amount of interesting material -to be collected, concerning the inner life of the Peninsular -Army, from public documents, such as despatches, general -orders, and regimental reports, and records of courts martial. -But I shall be utilizing to a much greater extent non-official<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">2</span> -information, collected from the countless diaries, memoirs, -and series of contemporary letters, which have come -down to us from the men who took part in the great war. -Nor are the controversial pamphlets to be neglected, which -kept appearing for many a year, when one survivor of the -old army found, in the writings of another, statements -which he considered injurious to himself, his friends, his -regiment, or his division. The best known and most -copious of these discussions is that which centres round the -publication of Napier’s <cite>Peninsular War</cite>; the successive -appearance of its volumes led to the printing of many -protests, in which some of the most prominent officers of -Wellington’s army took part—not only Lord Beresford, -who was Napier’s especial butt and <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">bête noir</i>, and replied -to the historian in terms sometimes not too dignified—but -Cole, Hardinge, D’Urban, and many more. This set of -“strictures”, as they were called, mainly relate to the -Albuera campaign. But there are smaller, but not less -interesting, series of controversial pamphlets relating to -the Convention of Cintra, to Moore’s retreat, to the campaign -of 1810 (Bussaco), the storm of Badajoz, and other -topics.</p> - -<p>The memoirs and autobiographies, of course, possess -the greatest share of interest. And it may be noted as a -remarkable fact that those coming from the rank and file -are not very much less numerous than those which come -from the commissioned ranks. If there are scores of -diaries and reminiscences of colonels, captains, and subalterns, -there are at least dozens of little books by sergeants, -corporals, and privates. Many of these are very quaint -productions indeed, printed at local presses—at Perth, -Coventry, Cirencester, Louth, Ashford—even at Corfu. -Very frequently some knot of military or civilian friends -induced a much-travelled veteran to commit to paper the -tales which had been the delight of the canteen, or of the -fireside of some village inn. They are generally very -good reading, but often give rather the spirit of the time<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">3</span> -and the regiment than an accurate record of its long-past -exploits. One or two of these veterans’ artless tales show -all the characteristics of the memoirs of the prince of their -tribe—the delightful but autolatrous Marbot. I have -thought it worth while to give in an appendix the names and -titles of the best of them. One or two, above all the little -book of “Rifleman Harris” of the 95th, well deserve to be -republished, but still await that honour. Perhaps regimental -patriotism may some day provide us with a series -of reprints of the best Soldiers’ Tales.<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">1</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Memoirs of the Rank and File</div> - -<p>It is a very notable fact, which requires (but has never -hitherto received) an explanation, that it is precisely with -the coming in of the nineteenth century that British -soldiers and officers alike began to write diaries and reminiscences -on a large scale, and in great numbers. I do -not, of course, mean to say that there were none such produced -in the eighteenth century. Besides serious military -histories like those of Kane, Stedman, or Tarleton, there -do exist a certain number of narratives of personal adventure -written by officers, such as Major Rogers the Scout, or -the garrulous and often amusing diarist (unfortunately -anonymous) who made the campaign of Culloden with the -Duke of Cumberland—not to speak of the semi-apochryphal -Captain Carleton. But they are few, and the writings from -the ranks are fewer still, though there are certain soldiers’ -letters which go back as far as Marlborough’s time, and -one or two small books like Bristow’s and Scurry’s Indian -reminiscences, and Sergeant Lamb’s <cite>Journal</cite> in the American -War of Independence, which are worth mentioning. But -it is quite certain that there was more writing going on in -the army during the ten years 1805–1815 than in the whole -eighteenth century.</p> - -<p>What was the explanation of the phenomenon? There -are, I think, two main causes to be borne in mind: the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">4</span> -first was the glorious and inspiring character of Wellington’s -campaigns, which made both officers and men justifiably -proud of themselves, and more anxious than any previous -generation had been to put on paper the tale of their own -exploits. It must have been a man of particularly cheerful -disposition who cared to compile the personal narrative of -his adventures during the Old American War, which was -largely a record of disaster, or even in the ups and downs -of the Seven Years’ War, when for every Minden or Quebec -there had been an evil memory like Ticonderoga or Kloster-Kampen. -It is to this instinctive dislike to open up old -memories of misfortune that we may attribute the fact that -the first British campaigns of the French Revolutionary -War, the unhappy marches and battles of the Duke of -York’s army in 1793, 1794, 1795 are recorded in singularly -few books of reminiscences—there are only (to my knowledge) -the doggerel verse of the “Officer of the Guards,” -with its valuable foot-notes, and the simple memoirs of -Sergeant Stevenson of the Scots Fusilier Guards, and -Corporal Brown of the Coldstream. This is an extraordinarily -small output for a long series of campaigns, in -which some 30,000 British troops were in the field, and -where gallant exploits like those of Famars and Villers-en-Cauchies -took place. But the general tale was not one -on which any participant could look back with pleasure. -Hence, no doubt, the want of books of reminiscences.</p> - -<p>But I fancy that there is another and a quite distinct -cause for the extraordinary outburst of interesting military -literature with which the nineteenth century begins, and we -may note that this outburst certainly commences a little -before the Peninsular War. There exist several very good -personal narratives both of the Conquest of Egypt in 1801, -of the Indian Wars during the Viceroyalty of Lord Wellesley, -and of the short campaign of Maida. And this cause -I take to be the fact that the generation which grew up -under the stress of the long Revolutionary War with France -was far more serious and intelligent than that which saw<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">5</span> -it begin, and realized the supreme importance of the ends -for which Great Britain was contending, and the danger -which threatened her national existence. The empire had -been in danger before, both in the Seven Years’ War, and -in the War of American Independence, but the enemy had -never been so terrifying and abhorrent as the Jacobins -of the Red Republic. The France of Robespierre was -loathed and feared as the France of Louis XV. or Louis XVI. -had never been. To the greater part of the British nation -the war against the Revolution soon became a kind of -Crusade against the “triple-headed monster of Republicanism, -Atheism, and Sedition.” The feeling that Great -Britain had to fight not so much for empire as for national -existence, and for all that made life worth having—religion, -morality, constitution, laws, liberty—made men desperately -keen for the fight, as their ancestors had never -been.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Sword and the Pen</div> - -<p>Among the many aspects which their keenness took, one -was most certainly the desire to record their own personal -part in the great strife. It is in some such way only that I -can explain the fact that the actually contemporary diaries -and journals become so good as the war wears on, compared -to anything that had gone before. Memoirs and reminiscences -written later do not count in the argument, because -they were compiled and printed long after the French war -was over, and its greatness was understood. But the abundance -of good material written down (and often sent to the -press) during the continuance of the war is astounding. -In some cases we can be sure that we owe the record to the -reason that I have just suggested. For example, we certainly -owe to it the long and interesting military diaries of Lord -Lynedoch (the Sir Thomas Graham of Barrosa), who most -decidedly went into the Revolutionary War as a Crusader -and nothing less. As I shall explain when dealing with his -remarkable career, he started military life at forty-four, -mortgaging his estates to raise a battalion, and suddenly -from a Whig M.P. of the normal type developed into a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">6</span> -persistent and conscientious fighter against France and -French ideas—whether they were expressed (as when first -he drew the sword) in the frenzied antics of the Jacobins, -or (as during his latter years) in the grinding despotism -of Bonaparte. His diary from first to last is the record of -one who feels that he is discharging the elementary duty -of a good citizen, by doing his best to beat the French -wherever they may be found.</p> - -<p>I take it that the same idea was at the bottom of the -heart of many a man of lesser note, who kept his pen busy -during those twenty eventful years. Some frankly say that -they went into the service, contrary to the original scheme -of their life, because they saw the danger to the state, -and were ready to take their part in meeting it. “The -threat of invasion fired every loyal pair of shoulders for a -red coat.”<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">2</a></p> - -<p>Of the men whose memoirs and letters I have read, -some would have been lawyers (like Sir Hussey Vivian), -others politicians, others doctors, others civil servants, -others merchants, if the Great War had not broken out. -I should imagine that the proportion of officers who had -taken their commission for other reasons than that they -had an old family connection with the army, or loved -adventure, was infinitely higher during this period than it -had ever been before. A very appreciable number of them -were men with a strong religious turn—a thing I imagine -to have been most unusual in the army of the eighteenth -century (though we must not forget Colonel Gardiner). -One young diarist heads the journal of his first campaign -with a long prayer.<a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> Another starts for the front with a -final letter to his relatives to the effect that “while striving -to discharge his military duties he will never forget his -religious ones: he who observes the former and disregards -the latter is no better than a civilized brute.”<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">4</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">7</span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Men of Religion</div> - -<p>There were Peninsular officers who led prayer-meetings -and founded religious societies—not entirely to the delight -of the Duke of Wellington,<a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> whose own very dry and -official view of religion was as intolerant of “enthusiasm” -as that of any Whig bishop of Mid-Georgian times. Some -of the most interesting diaries of the war are those of men -who like Gleig, Dallas, and Boothby, took Holy Orders -when the strife came to an end. One or two of the authors -from the ranks show the same tendencies. Quartermaster -Surtees was undergoing the agonies of a very painful conversion, -during the campaign of 1812, and found that the -memories of his spiritual experiences had blunted and -dulled his recollection of his regimental fortunes during -that time.<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> A very curious book by an Irish sergeant of -the 43rd devotes many more pages to religious reflections -than to marches and bivouacs.<a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> Another writer of the same -type describes himself on his title-page as “Twenty-one -years in the British Foot Guards, sixteen years a non-commissioned -officer, forty years a Wesleyan class leader, -once wounded, and two years a Prisoner.”<a id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">8</a></p> - -<p>On the whole I am inclined to attribute the great improvement -alike in the quantity and the quality of the information -which we possess as to the inner life of the army, -during the second half of the great struggle with France, -not only to the fact that the danger to the empire and the -great interests at stake had fired the imagination of many -a participant, but still more to the other fact that the body -of officers contained a much larger proportion of thoughtful -and serious men than it had ever done before. And the -same was the case <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">mutatis mutandis</i> with the rank and file<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">8</span> -also. Not but what—of course—some of the most interesting -information is supplied to us by cheerful and garrulous -rattlepates of a very different type, who had been -attracted into the service by the adventure of the soldier’s -life, and record mainly its picturesque or its humorous -side.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">9</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_II" class="vspace">CHAPTER II<br /> - -<span class="subhead">SOURCES OF INFORMATION—THE LITERATURE OF THE -PENINSULAR WAR</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>It will be well, perhaps, to give a short account of the main -sources from which our knowledge of the Peninsular Army -is derived. The official ones must be cited first. The most -important of all are, naturally enough, the Wellington -Dispatches. Of these there are two series; the first, in twelve -volumes, was published during the Duke’s lifetime by -Colonel Gurwood between 1837 and 1839. The second, or -supplementary series, in fifteen volumes, was published -with copious notes by the second Duke of Wellington -between 1858 and 1872.</p> - -<p>The series edited by Gurwood is absolutely necessary -to every student of the Peninsular War, but is most tiresome -to handle, and is by no means complete. The Duke -forbade the publication of a great number of his more confidential -letters, and ordered portions of others to be omitted. -He had a strong notion that a great deal of historical information -could be, and ought to be, suppressed; this fact -has caused much trouble to the modern historian, who -wishes to obtain not a mere official and expurgated view of -the war, but a full and complete survey of it. To show -Wellington’s attitude it may be sufficient to quote his -answer to William Napier, who asked for leave to utilize -all his papers. “He could not tell the whole truth without -hurting the feelings of many worthy men, and without -doing mischief. Expatiating on the subject, he related -many anecdotes illustrating this observation, showing errors<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">10</span> -committed by generals and others—especially at Waterloo—errors -so materially affecting his operations that he could -not do justice to himself if he suppressed them, and yet -by giving them publicity he would ungraciously affect -the favour of many worthy men, whose only fault was -dullness.”<a id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">9</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Gurwood and the Duke’s Dispatches</div> - -<p>The Gurwood edition of the dispatches was published -some fifteen years after Napier made his application, but -numbers of the old Peninsular officers were still alive, and -the Duke adhered to his already-expressed opinion that it -would not be well to expose old quarrels and old blunders. -Paragraphs, accordingly, are often omitted in the reprint, -and in a large majority of cases, where blame was imputed -or reproofs administered to any individual, the name was -left blank. This makes the edition most tiresome to read. -It is exasperating to find that <i>e.g.</i> “nothing has given me -more concern in the late operations than the conduct of -Lieut.-Colonel —— of the —— Regt.”<a id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> or that “no means -exists of punishing military disorders and irregularities of -the kind committed by Brigadier-General —— and Colonel ——.” -Or again, when Wellington writes to the Patronage -Secretary at the Horse Guards that “I am much obliged to -you for relieving me from Major-General —— and Colonel ——. -I have seen General —— and I think he will do -very well, and so will ——”<a id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">11</a>; or that “—— appears to be a -kind of madman,” and “—— is not very wise,” the reader -is reduced to despair. The only way of discovering the -names, which are often those of officers of high rank, who -figure repeatedly in any narrative of the Peninsular War, -is to go to the original dispatches at the Record Office, or, -when the communication is a private and not a public one, -to the letters at Apsley House. Meanwhile, few have the -leisure or the patience to do this, so that Wellington’s -judgments on his lieutenants are still practically inaccessible.</p> - -<p>It was, perhaps, still necessary to leave all these blanks<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">11</span> -in 1837. And Gurwood was no doubt acting in strict -obedience to the Duke’s orders. But nothing can excuse -his own slack editing of the massive tomes that he published. -There are no tables of contents to the volumes, nor does -the title page of each indicate the dates between which it -runs. To find out which volume will contain a letter of -November, 1810, we must take down Vols. VI. and VII., -and see from the date of the last dispatch in one and the -first in the other, when the break comes. Supposing we -wish to discover how many communications were sent to -Graham or Spencer in 1811, there is no other way of achieving -our object than running through every page of the two -volumes in which the correspondence of that year is contained! -There is a so-called index to the whole series, -but it is practically useless, from the small number of -headings given. The reader will look in it vainly for obvious -places-names such as Chaves, Casal Novo, Castello Branco, -Vera, St. Pierre, for personal names such as Lapisse, Latour-Maubourg, -Bonnet, Montbrun, Abadia, Penne-Villemur, -O’Donnell, Del Parque, Erskine, Anson, Victor Alten, -Barnard, Beckwith. On the other hand he will find silly -headings such as under L, “Lies, encouragement of,” or -under I, “Invincibility of British Troops.” Perhaps the -most ridiculous entry in this absurd compilation is that of -“Light Division,” to which there is annexed just one -note, “satisfactory conduct of, on April 6, 1811,” as if that -was the sole occasion on which it was necessary to mention -that distinguished unit of the British army. There are no -headings under regiments at all, so that if one wishes to -see what the Duke said about the 52nd or the Black Watch, -one simply gets no help.</p> - -<p>But there is another trick of Gurwood’s which is even -worse than his want of tables of contents or adequate -index-entries. He omitted all the elaborate statistics -which used to accompany the Duke’s dispatches, without -exception. The beautiful tables of casualties which -explain the distribution of losses between regiments and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">12</span> -divisions, are in every case boiled down into three bald -totals of “killed, wounded, and missing,” for the whole -army, no indication of units being left. Even Lord Londonderry’s -modest two volumes, the first attempt at a general -history of the Peninsular War, give far more useful information -on the all-important topics of strengths and -losses than all Gurwood’s tomes. For that sensible author -rightly saw that nothing could be more serviceable to the -reader than an occasional table of the organization and -numbers of the whole allied army, and that the detailed -casualty-list of such a fight as Talavera or Albuera is -indispensable. The purblind Gurwood preferred to put in -a note, “the detail of divisions, regiments, and battalions -has been omitted, being too voluminous,”<a id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> when he was -dealing with an important return. The historian owes -him small thanks for his precious opinion.</p> - -<p>It is an immense relief to pass from Gurwood’s ill-arranged -work to the volumes of the <cite>Wellington Supplementary -Dispatches</cite>, which were published by the second -Duke between 1858 and 1872. Though the mass of -Peninsular material contained in this series is comparatively -small, it comprises a great quantity of familiar and private -correspondence, which had been deliberately omitted from -the earlier publication. And, moreover, it is admirably -edited; the second Duke knew what was important and -what required explanation, appended valuable and -copious notes, and was able (since the elder generation was -now practically extinct) to abandon the exasperating -reticence used by Gurwood. Moreover, he added a vast -quantity of letters written not by, but to, his father, which -serve to explain the old Duke’s sometime cryptic replies -to his correspondents. Even a few necessary French -documents have been added. Altogether these volumes -are excellent, and make one wish that the editing of the -whole of the Wellington papers had fallen into the same -hands.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">13</span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington’s “General Orders”</div> - -<p>There is a third series of Official publications which -though not so “generally necessary for salvation” as the -Dispatches, for any student of the Peninsular War, is very -valuable and needs continually to be worked up. This is -the seven volumes of <cite>General Orders</cite>, from 1809 to 1815, -which are strictly contemporary documents, as they were -collected and issued while the war was in progress—the -1809–10 volumes were printed in 1811, the 1811 volume -in 1812, and so on. The last, or Waterloo volume, had the -distinction of being issued by the British Military Press in -Paris, “by Sergeant Buchan, 3rd Guards,” as printer. -The <cite>General Orders</cite> contain not only all the documents -strictly so called, the notices issued by the commander-in-chief -for the army, but an invaluable <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">précis</i> of all courts-martial -other than regimental ones, and a record of promotions, -gazettings of officers to regiments, rules as to issue -of pay and rations, and directions as to all matters of detail -relating to organization, hospitals, depôts, stores, routes, -etc. If any one wishes to know on what day the 42nd was -moved from the first to the second division, when precisely -General Craufurd got leave to go home on private business, -what was the accepted value of the Spanish dollar or the -Portuguese Cruzado Novo at different dates, when expressed -in English money, or what was the bounty given when a -time-expired man consented to renew his service for a -limited period, these are the volumes in which he will find -his curiosity satisfied. They cannot be called interesting -reading—but they contain facts not elsewhere to be -found.</p> - -<p>There is an exactly corresponding series of General -Orders for the Portuguese Army, in six yearly volumes, -called <cite xml:lang="pt" lang="pt">Ordens do Dia</cite>: it was issued by Marshal Beresford, -and contains all the documents signed by him. Whenever -a student is interested in the career of one of the numerous -British officers in the Portuguese service, he must seek -out the records of his doings in these volumes. They are -not easy to work in, as they have no yearly indices, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">14</span> -much patience is required to discover isolated notices of -individuals. These volumes are practically inaccessible in -England. It was with the greatest difficulty that a Lisbon -friend hunted me up a copy after long search, and I am not -aware that there is another on this side of the sea. But by -its use only can we trace the service of any Anglo-Portuguese -officer. There was supposed to be an “Ordem” -every morning, and when nothing was forthcoming in the -way of promotions, court-martial reports, or decrees, Beresford’s -chief of the staff used to publish a solemn statement -that there was no news, as <span class="locked">thus—</span></p> - -<p> -Quartel-General de Chamusca, 7. 1. 1811.<br /> -Nada de novo.<br /> -<i>Adjudante-General</i> Mosinho. -</p> - -<p>This happened on an average about twice a week.</p> - -<p>In addition to these printed series there is an immense -amount of unprinted official correspondence in the Record -Office which bears on the Peninsular War. It will be found -not only in the War Office section, but in those belonging -to the Foreign Office and the Admiralty. As an example -of the mysteries of official classification, I may mention -that all documents relating to French prisoners will have -to be looked for among the Admiralty records, under the -sub-headings <i>Transport</i> and <i>Medical</i>. If, as occasionally -happens, one wishes to find out the names and regiments -of French officers captured on some particular occasion, -<i>e.g.</i> Soult’s retreat from Oporto, or the storm of Badajoz, -it is to the Admiralty records that one must go! Officers -can always be identified, but it is a herculean task to deal -with the rank and file, for they used to be shot into one of -the great prisons, Norman’s Cross, Porchester, Stapleton, -etc., in arbitrary batches, with no regard to their regimental -numbers. It would take a week to hunt through the -prison records with the object of identifying the number -of privates of the 34th Léger captured at Rodrigo, since -they may have gone in small parties to any one of a dozen<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">15</span> -destinations. Many of the prison registers have lost one -or other of their outer-boards, and the handling of them -is a grimy business for the fingers, since they are practically -never consulted.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Record Office and its Wealth</div> - -<p>While nearly the whole of the Wellington dispatches -have been printed, it is only a small part of the Duke’s “enclosures”, -added to each dispatch, that have had the same -good fortune. These always repay a cursory inspection, -and are often highly important. The greater part of Sir -John Moore’s correspondence with Lord Castlereagh, and -many dispatches of Moore’s subordinates—Baird, Leith, and -Lord W. Bentinck—with a number of valuable returns -and statistics,—are printed in a large volume entitled “<cite>Papers -Relative to Spain and Portugal, Presented to Parliament -in 1809</cite>.” There are, to the best of my knowledge, no -similar volumes relating to Graham’s campaign from Cadiz -in 1811, or Maitland’s and Murray’s operations on the east -side of Spain in 1813–14. A good deal of information -about the latter, however, may be got from the enormous -report of the court-martial on Murray, for his wretched -<em>fiasco</em> at the siege of Tarragona, which is full of valuable -facts. The details of the other minor British enterprises -in the Peninsula—such as those of Doyle, Skerret, Sir -Home Popham, and Lord Blayney, all remain in manuscript,—readily -accessible to the searcher, but not too often consulted. -The Foreign Office section at the Record Office -is highly valuable not only to the historian of diplomacy, -but to the purely military historian, because Stuart, -Vaughan, Henry Wellesley, and the other representatives -of the British Government at Madrid, Seville, and Cadiz, -used to send home, along with their own dispatches, numberless -Spanish documents. These include not only official -papers from the Regency, but private documents of great -value, letters from generals and statesmen who wish to -keep the British agent informed as to their views, when they -have clashed with the resolves of their own government. -There are quite a number of military narratives by Spanish<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">16</span> -officers, who are set on excusing themselves from responsibility -for the disasters of their colleagues. And the -politicians sometimes propose, in private and confidential -minutes, very curious plans and intrigues. Sir Charles -Vaughan kept a certain number of these confidential papers -in his own possession when he left Cadiz, and did not turn -them over to the Foreign Office. They lie, along with -his private correspondence, in the Library of All Souls’ -College, Oxford.</p> - -<p>Since we are dealing with the British army, not with -the general history of the Peninsular War, I need only -mention that unpublished documents by the thousand, -relating to the French, Spanish, and Portuguese armies, -may be found at Paris, Madrid, and Lisbon, and that the -researcher is invariably welcomed and courteously treated. -It may be worth while to make a note, for the benefit of -beginners, to the effect that the French military documents -are not concentrated in one mass, but are divided between -the <cite>Archives Nationales</cite>, and the <cite>Archives de la Guerre</cite> at -the Ministry of War. If a return or a dispatch is not to -be found in one of these repositories, it may yet turn up -in the other. The Spanish records are very “patchy,” -full on some campaigns, almost non-existent on others. -For example, the documents on the luckless Ocaña campaign -of 1809 are marvellously few; there does not exist -a single complete “morning state”, by regiments and -divisions, of Areizaga’s unhappy army. I fancy that the -whole of the official papers of his staff were captured in the -rout, and destroyed by ignorant plunderers—they did not -get into the French collections. Hence there have only -survived the few dispatches which Areizaga and some of -his subordinates sent to the Spanish Ministry of War.</p> - -<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> - -<div class="sidenote">Contemporary Journals</div> - -<p>So much for Official Records. Passing on to the publications -of individual actors in the war, we must draw a -sharp line between those which were issued during or immediately -after the campaigns with which they deal, and those<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">17</span> -which were written down, with or without the aid of contemporary -notes or journals, many years after. The former, -of course, possess a peculiar interest, because the writers’ -narrative is not coloured by any knowledge of what is yet -to come. An officer writing of Corunna or Talavera with -the memory of Vittoria and Waterloo upon him, necessarily -took up a different view of the war from the man who set -down his early campaign without any idea of what was to -follow. Early checks and hardships loom larger in the -hour of doubt and disappointment, than when the recollection -of them has been dimmed by subsequent hours of -triumph. The early material, therefore, is very valuable, -but it is not so copious as that which was written down -later, and it largely exists in the form of letters and diaries, -both of which are less readable than formal narratives. -As good types of this sort of material we may name Ormsby’s -and Ker-Porter’s <cite>Journals of the Campaign of 1808–09</cite>, -Hawkers’ <cite>Journal of the Talavera Campaign</cite>, Stothert’s -<cite>Diary of 1809–11</cite>, and General MacKinnon’s Journal of -the same three years, all of which were published within a -few months of the last entry which each contains. Next -to these come the books which consist of contemporary -material, published without alteration from the original -manuscripts, but only many years after they had been -written. The best of these for hard facts, often facts not -to be found elsewhere, is the diary of Tomkinson of the -16th Light Dragoons:<a id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> with it may be mentioned the -Journal of George Simmons of the 95th, published in 1899 -with the title, “A British Rifle Man,”<a id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> the Journals of Sir -William Gomm, 1808–15,<a id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> Sir George Warre’s Letters -of 1808–12,<a id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> which only saw the light two years ago, and -Larpent’s <cite>Private Journal</cite>, printed in 1852.<a id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">17</a> These volumes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">18</span> -all have short notes by the editors, but the text is the writing -of the Peninsular time, untampered with and unaltered.</p> - -<p>These books and their minor contemporaries stand in -a class by themselves, as contemporary material reflecting -accurately the spirit of the times. Much more numerous, -however, are the books which, though produced by actors -in the Great War, appeared at dates more or less remote -from the years whose events they narrate. The formal -histories are comparatively few, the reason being that -Napier’s magnificent (if somewhat prejudiced and biassed) -volumes completely put off other possible authors, who -felt that they lacked his genius and his power of expression, -from the idea of writing a long narrative of the war as a -whole. This was a misfortune, since the one book which -all students of military history are thereby driven to read, -was composed by a bitter political partisan, who is set on -maligning the Tory government, has an altogether exaggerated -admiration for Napoleon, and owned many -personal enemies in the British army, who receive scant -justice at his hands. At the same time we must be grateful -that the work was written by one who was an actual -witness of many of the campaigns that he relates, conscientiously -strove to get at all other first-hand witnesses, -and ransacked the French as well as the British official -papers, so far as he could obtain access to them. The merits -of his style are all his own, and will cause the <cite>History of -the Peninsular War</cite> to be read as an English classic, as -Clarendon’s <cite>History of the Great Rebellion</cite> is read, even -when research has shown (as in Clarendon’s case) that -much of the narrative needs reconstruction, and that the -general thesis on which it is constructed lacks impartiality.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Napier, Southey, and Lord Londonderry</div> - -<p>The only other general histories of the war which -appeared were Southey’s (three vols. published 1832) and -Lord Londonderry’s.<a id="FNanchor_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">18</a> The former was written by a literary -man without any military experience, who had seen nothing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">19</span> -of the Peninsula during the years of the struggle, and had -as almost his only merit, a good knowledge of the Spanish -sources, of which he was too uncritical. The book fell -dead, being unable to compete with Napier, and lacking all -the authority of personal knowledge which was the latter’s -strong point. The smaller book of Lord Londonderry -(two volumes, published 1829) is by no means without merit, -but has many faults, always hovering on the edge between -formal history and personal reminiscences. Wherever -Charles Stewart had not been present, he passes lightly over -the episodes of war, and obviously had taken no very great -pains to collect first-hand material. At the same time the -book has value, as giving the views of a highly-placed staff -officer, who had the opportunity of seeing every episode -from the point of view of Head Quarters, and had strong -convictions and theories of his own. He had also the saving -grace of loving statistics, and printed many valuable -appendices of “morning states” and casualty-lists, things -of which Napier was far too sparing, and which Gurwood -suppressed altogether. As a general record the book could -not cope with Napier, and has been forgotten—somewhat -undeservedly—no less than Southey’s vast quartos. There -is absolutely no other general history by a contemporary -which needs mention. Of course I omit foreign sources, -which help us little with regard to the British army, though -they are indispensable for a general study of the war. Foy’s -unfinished <cite xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Guerre de la Peninsule</cite>, if we may judge from the -volumes which appeared before his death, would have been -a very prejudiced affair—his account of the British troops -in Vol. I. is a bitter satire, contrasting oddly enough with -his confessions concerning their merits in his <cite>Journal</cite>, of -which a large portion was published a few years ago by -Girod de l’Ain under the title <cite xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Vie Militaire du Général Foy</cite>. -After all the detraction in his formal history, it is interesting -to read the frank letter which says, in 1811, that for a set -battle on a limited front he acknowledges the superiority -of the English infantry to the French, “I keep this opinion<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">20</span> -to myself,” he adds, “and have never divulged it, for it -is necessary that the soldier in the ranks should not only -hate his enemy, but also despise him.”<a id="FNanchor_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> Foy kept the -opinion so closely to himself, that no one would have -suspected it who had read only his formal history of the -Peninsular War.</p> - -<p>Another French general history is Marshal Jourdan’s -<cite xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Guerre d’Espagne</cite>, issued only ten years ago by the Vicomte -de Grouchy, though large parts of it had been utilized in -Ducasse’s <cite>Life and Correspondence of King Joseph Bonaparte</cite>. -This covers the whole war down to Vittoria, and -is notable for its acute and often unanswerable criticism of -Soult and Masséna, Marmont, and, not least, of Napoleon -himself. It is less satisfactory as a vindication of Jourdan’s -own doings. Marmont’s autobiography only covers his fifteen -months of command from May, 1811, to July, 1812: while -St. Cyr’s and Suchet’s very interesting accounts of their -own periods of activity relate entirely to Catalonia and the -eastern side of the Peninsula. St. Cyr does not touch -British affairs at all; Suchet treats his campaigns against -Maitland and Murray in a much more cursory style than -his previous successes against the Spanish armies.<a id="FNanchor_20" href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">20</a> The -other French formal narratives by contemporaries and -eye-witnesses are for the most part monographs on particular -campaigns in which the writers took part—such as Thiébault’s -work on Junot in Portugal—full of deliberate -inaccuracies—which was published in 1817, and Lapène’s -<cite xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Conquête d’Andalousie, en 1810–12</cite>, and <cite xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Campagnes de -1813–14</cite> (both published in 1823 in volumes of different -size) which deal only with the army of Soult. There are, -however, two general histories by German officers—Schepeler -(who served with the Spaniards), and Riegel (who served -with the French)—which both require mention. The former -is especially valuable.<a id="FNanchor_21" href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">21</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">21</span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Toreno, Belmas, John Jones</div> - -<p>Among Peninsular historians two deserve special notice. -The Conde de Toreno, a Spanish statesman who had taken -part in the war as a young man, produced in 1838 three -massive volumes which are, next to Napier, the greatest -book that makes this war its subject. He is a first-hand -authority of great merit, and should always be consulted -for the Spanish version of events. He was a great master -of detail, and yet could paint with a broad brush. It is -sometimes necessary to remember that he is a partisan, -and has his favourites and his enemies (especially La -Romana) among the generals and statesmen of Spain. -But on the whole he is a historian of high merit and -judgment. With Toreno’s work must be mentioned the -five small volumes of the Portuguese José Accursio das -Neves, published in 1811, when Masséna had but just -retreated from before the Lines of Torres Vedras. This is -a very full and interesting description of Junot’s invasion -of Portugal, and of the sufferings of that realm which -came to an end with the Convention of Cintra. It is -the only detailed picture of Portugal in 1808. Unfortunately -the author did not complete the story of 1809–10.</p> - -<p>At the end of this note on historical works, as distinguished -from memoirs or diaries of adventure, we must -name two excellent books, one English and one French, -on the special subject of siege operations. These two -monographs by specialists, both distinguished engineer -officers—Sir John Jones’ <cite>Journal of the Sieges in Spain -1811–13</cite>, and Colonel Belmas’ <cite xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Journaux des Sièges dans -la Peninsule 1808–13</cite>, published respectively in 1827 and -1837—are among the most valuable books dealing with the -Peninsular War, both containing a wealth of detail and -explanatory notes. The work of Belmas is especially rich -in reprints of original documents bearing on the sieges, and -in statistics of garrisons, losses, ammunition expended, etc. -They were so complete, and supplemented each other so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">22</span> -well, that little was done to add to the information that they -give, till Major J. Leslie’s admirable edition of the <cite>Dickson -Papers</cite> began to appear a few years ago, and appreciably -increased our knowledge of the English side of the siege -operations.</p> - -<p>Having made an end of the formal histories written -by contemporaries and eye-witnesses, it remains that we -should speak of a class of literature much larger in bulk, -and generally much more interesting, considered in the light -of reading for the general student—the books of autobiographies -and personal reminiscences which were written -by participants in the war some time after it had come to -an end—at any time from ten to forty years after 1814. -Their name is legion. I am continually discovering more -of them, many of them printed obscurely in small editions -and from local presses, so that the very knowledge of -their existence has perished. And so many unpublished -manuscripts of the sort exist, in France no less than in -England, that it is clear that we have not even yet got to -the end of the stock of original material bearing on the war. -Some of the most interesting, <i>e.g.</i> the lively autobiography -of Blakeney of the 28th,<a id="FNanchor_22" href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">22</a> and that of Ney’s aide-de-camp -Sprünglin,<a id="FNanchor_23" href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">23</a> have only appeared during the last few years.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Inaccuracies of Memoir-writers</div> - -<p>These volumes of personal adventures differ greatly -in value: some were written up conscientiously from contemporary -diaries: others contain only fragments, the most -striking or the most typical incidents of campaigns whose -less interesting every-day work had been forgotten, or at -least had grown dim. Unfortunately in old age the memory -often finds it hard to distinguish between things seen and -things heard. It is not uncommon to find a writer who -represents himself as having been present at scenes where -he cannot have been assisting, and still more frequent to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">23</span> -detect him applying to one date perfectly genuine anecdotes -which belong to another. One or two of the most readable -narratives frankly mix up the sequence of events, with a -note that the exact dating can not be reconstructed. This -is notoriously the case with the most vivid of all the books -of reminiscences from the ranks—the little volume of -“Rifleman Harris,” whose tales about General Robert -Craufurd and the Light Division flow on in a string, in which -chronology has to take its chance, and often fails to find it.</p> - -<p>Another source of blurred or falsified reminiscences is -that an author, writing many years after the events which -he has to record, has generally read printed books about -them, and mixes up this secondary knowledge with the -first-hand tale of his adventures. Napier’s Peninsular War -came out so comparatively early, and was so universally -read, that screeds from it have crept into a very great -number of the books written after 1830. Indeed, some -simple veterans betray the source of their tales, concerning -events which they cannot possibly have witnessed themselves, -by repeating phrases or epigrams of Napier’s which -are unmistakeable. Some even fill up a blank patch in -their own memory by a <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">précis</i> of a page or a chapter from -the great history. It is always necessary to take care -that we are not accepting as a corroboration of some tale, -that which is really only a repetition of it. The diary of -a sergeant of the 43rd mentioned above,<a id="FNanchor_24" href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">24</a> contains an -intolerable amount of boiled-down Napier. It is far more -curious to find traces of him in the famous Marbot, who -had clearly read Mathieu Dumas’ translation when it came -out in French.</p> - -<p>The books of personal adventure, as we may call the -whole class, may roughly be divided into three sections, -of decreasing value in the way of authority. The first and -most important consists of works written upon the base of -an old diary or journal, where the memory is kept straight -as to the sequence of events by the contemporary record,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">24</span> -and the author is amplifying and writing up real first-hand -material. Favourable examples of this are Leach’s <cite>Rough -Sketches of the Life of an Old Soldier</cite>,<a id="FNanchor_25" href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">25</a> Leslie of Balquhain’s -<cite>Military Journal</cite>,<a id="FNanchor_26" href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">26</a> which in spite of its title is not in journal -shape, but reads as a continuous narrative, and Sir George -Bell’s <cite>Rough Notes of Fifty Years’ Service</cite>,<a id="FNanchor_27" href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">27</a> all of which are -definitely stated by the authors to have been founded on -their note-books of the war time, and therefore can as a -rule be treated as first-hand evidence. They can generally -be trusted as authorities against any divergent tales based -on the narratives of writers who wrote their reminiscences -without any such foundation, and where they get off the -lines of contemporary evidence they usually give the reader -warning. For example, Leach gives valuable material to -show the inaccuracy of Napier’s exaggerated estimate of -the length and pace of the Light Division’s march to -Talavera, whose erroneous figures have been repeated in so -many subsequent books. And yet Leach was not conscious -of the fact that the data which he gives were incompatible -with Napier’s story, and repeats it in a general way—because -he published his book several years after the -appearance of Napier’s second volume, and had (like many -other members of the Light Division) absorbed the legend -as a matter of faith on Napier’s authority. It was reserved -for Sir John Bell,<a id="FNanchor_28" href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">28</a> who had served under Craufurd but -joined too late for Talavera, to explode the story. But his -demonstration of its inaccuracy has not travelled far, -while the original legend has gone all round the world, -and is still reproduced, as an example of unparalleled rapidity -of movement, in serious military works.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Gleig, Blakeney, Hennegan</div> - -<p>Infinitely less valuable than the books founded on -private diaries or letters of contemporary date, are those -which were written down long after the war, from unaided<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">25</span> -memory only. They are, of course, progressively less -valuable for evidence according as the date at which they -were indited recedes from the period with which they deal. -Gleig’s charming <cite>The Subaltern</cite>, printed as early as 1825, -may be better trusted for matters of detail than Blakeney’s -equally vivid narrative written in the remote island of -Paxos about 1835, and Blakeney is more valuable than -Hennegan’s highly romantic <cite>Seven Years of Campaigning</cite>, -published only in 1847, when thirty winters had blurred -reminiscence, and allowed of the accretion of much second-hand -and doubtful material round the original story. The -strength of men’s memories differs, so does their appreciation -of the relative value of a dramatic narrative as compared -with a photographic record of personal experiences. But -in a general way we must allow that every year that elapses -between the event and the setting down of its narrative -on paper decreases progressively the value of the record. -As an example of the way in which the failing powers of -old age can confuse even a powerful memory, we may mention -the curious fact that Wellington himself, twenty years -after his last campaign, seems to have told two auditors -that he had visited Blücher’s camp on the very eve of -Waterloo, the night between the 17th and 18th of June, -1815, a statement quite incredible.<a id="FNanchor_29" href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">29</a> It was apparently -a blurred memory of his real visit to the Prussian headquarters -on the early afternoon of the 16th, of which ample -details are known.</p> - -<p>Failing memory, the love of a well-rounded tale, a spice -of autolatry, and an appreciation of the picturesque, have -impaired the value of many a veteran’s reminiscences. -Especially if he is a well-known <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">raconteur</i>, and has repeated -his narrative many times before he sets it down on paper, -does it tend to assume a romantic form. The classical -example, of course, is Marbot, whose memoirs contain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">26</span> -many things demonstrably false, <i>e.g.</i> that he brought the -news of the <i xml:lang="es" lang="es">Dos Mayo</i> insurrection at Madrid to Napoleon, -or that in 1812 he took his regiment from Moscow to the -neighbourhood of Poltava, and brought it back (400 miles!) -in less than a fortnight with a convoy of provisions, or that -he saw 6000 men drowned on the broken ice of the lake of -Satschan at the end of the battle of Austerlitz.<a id="FNanchor_30" href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">30</a> Marbot -is, of course, an extreme example of amusing egotism, but -parallels on a minor scale could be quoted from many of -his contemporaries, who wrote their tale too late. We -may mention Thiébault’s account of the combat of Aldea -da Ponte, when he declares that he fought 17,000 Anglo-Portuguese -and produced 500 casualties in their ranks, -when he was really opposed by one British brigade and two -Portuguese battalions, who lost precisely 100 men between -them. Yet the account is so lengthy and detailed, that if -we had not the British sources before us, we should be -inclined to think that we were reading an accurate narrative -of a real fight, instead of a romantic invention reconstructed -from a blurred memory. It was the only Peninsular -fight in which Thiébault exercised an independent -command—and every year added to its beauties as the -general grew old.</p> - -<p>While, therefore, we read the later-written Peninsular -narratives with interest, and often with profit, as reflections -of the spirit of the time and the army, we must always be -cautious in accepting their evidence. And we must begin -by trying to obtain a judgment on the “personal equation”—was -the author a hard-headed observer, or a lover of -romantic anecdotes? What proportion, if any, of the facts -which he gives can be proved incompatible with contemporary -records? Or again, what proportion (though not demonstrably -false) seem unlikely, in face of other authorities? -Had he been reading other men’s books on a large scale? -Of this the usual proof is elaborate narrative concerning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">27</span> -events at which he cannot possibly have been present, -with or without citation of the source from which he has -obtained the information. It is only when the author has -passed his examination with credit on these points, that we -can begin to treat him as a serious authority, and to trust -him as evidence for scenes at which we know that he was -actually present. Many a writer of personal adventures -may finally be given his certificate as good authority for -the annals of his own battalion, but for nothing more. -It is even possible that we may have to make the further -restriction that he may be trusted on the lucky days, but not -on the less happy ones, in the history of his own beloved -corps. Reticence as to “untoward incidents” is not uncommon. -As to things outside the regiment, there was -often a good deal of untrustworthy gossip abroad, which -stuck in the memory even after long years had passed.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Books of Regimental Adventure</div> - -<p>Among all the books of regimental adventure, I should -give the first place for interest and good writing to Lieut. -Grattan’s <cite>With the Connaught Rangers</cite>. It is not too much -to say that if the author had taken to formal history, his -style, which is vivid without exaggeration, and often -dignified without pomposity, would have made him a -worthy rival of Napier as an English classic. His descriptions -of the aspect and psychology of the stormers marching -down to the advanced trenches at Ciudad Rodrigo, and of -the crisis of the battle of Salamanca, are as good as anything -that Napier ever wrote. A reader presented with many of -his paragraphs would say without hesitation that they were -excerpts from the great historian. Unfortunately Grattan -suffered from one of the faults which I have named above—he -<em>will</em> give untrustworthy information about episodes -at which he was not present—it is at best superfluous and -sometimes misleading. But for what the 88th did at -Bussaco and Fuentes, at Badajoz and Salamanca, he is -very good authority. And he is always a pleasure to read. -Two good books—Gleig’s <cite>The Subaltern</cite>, and Moyle Sherer’s -<cite>Recollections of the Peninsula</cite>—have a share of the literary<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">28</span> -merit of Grattan’s work, but lack his power. They give -respectively the day-by-day camp life of the 85th in 1813–14, -and of the 48th in 1811–13, in a pleasant and life-like -fashion, and since both were published within ten years -of the end of the war—Gleig’s in 1825, Sherer’s in 1824—the -writers’ memories were still strong, and their statements -of fact may be relied upon. Both have the merit of sticking -closely to personal experience, and of avoiding second-hand -stories.</p> - -<p>Those lively tales of adventure—Kincaid’s <cite>Adventures -in the Rifle Brigade</cite>, Sir Harry Smith’s <cite>Autobiography</cite>, -and Blakeney’s memoir (which its editor called <cite>A Boy in -the Peninsular War</cite>)<a id="FNanchor_31" href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">31</a>—were all written at a much later date, -from twenty to thirty years after Waterloo, and show their -remoteness from the time that they describe not so much -by want of detail, nor of picturesque power of description,—all -three authors were good wielders of the pen—as by the -selection of the facts that they record. Much of the every-day -life of the regiment has been forgotten or grown dim, -and only the great days, or the most striking personal experiences, -or quaint and grotesque incidents, are recorded. -This very fact makes them all very good reading—they -contain (so to speak) all the plums of the cake and comparatively -little of the less appetizing crust. Harry Smith’s -chapters are practically the tale of his Odyssey in the campaigns -of 1812–13 along with the heroic little Spanish -wife whom he had picked up and married at the storm of -Badajoz. Kincaid is a humourist—he remembers all the -grotesque incidents, ludicrous situations, practical jokes, -and misadventures, in which he and his comrades were -concerned, and pours them out in a string of anecdotes, -loosely connected by a narrative of which he says that he -refuses to be responsible for the exact sequence or dating. -It is very amusing, and some of the more striking stories -can be verified from other and better authorities. But<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">29</span> -the general effect is often as if we were reading a chapter -out of Lever’s <cite>Charles O’Malley</cite>, or some such old-fashioned -Peninsular romance. Blakeney’s book gives a better impression -for solidity, and he fills up many an incident, otherwise -known to us only in outline, with picturesque detail -which bears every appearance of truth. But I have once -or twice found his narrative refusing to square in with -contemporary documents, and when this is the case the -story written twenty-five years after the event must go to -the wall.<a id="FNanchor_32" href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">32</a> He must be used with caution, though he is -giving a genuine record to the best of his ability.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Reminiscences from the Ranks</div> - -<p>Nearly all the reminiscences from the ranks are subject -to these same disabilities. With hardly an exception they -were written down long years after the events recorded. -Usually the narrator had no books or notes to help him, -and we get a genuine tale, uninfluenced by outer sources, -but blurred and foreshortened by the lapse of time. The -details of personal adventure are perfectly authentic to the -best of the veteran’s memory; incidents of battle, of camp -hardships, of some famous court-martial and subsequent -punishment-parade, come out in a clear-cut fashion. But -there are long gaps of forgotten months, frequent errors -of dating, and often mistakes in the persons to whom an -exploit, an epigram, or a misadventure are attributed. -Yet these little volumes give the spirit of the rank and file -in the most admirable fashion, and enable us to realize the -inner life of the battalion as no official document can do. -There are a few cases where the author has got hold of a -book, generally Napier’s great history, and to a great -extent spoils his work by letting in passages of incongruous -eloquence, or strategical disquisition, into the homely -stuff of his real reminiscences.<a id="FNanchor_33" href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">33</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">30</span> -One soldier’s little volume stands out from all the rest -for its literary merit—it is the work of a man of superior -education, who had enlisted in a moment of pique and -humiliation to avoid facing at home the consequences of -his own conceit and folly. This short story of 150 pages -called <cite>Journal of T. S., a Soldier of the 71st Highland Light -Infantry, 1806–15</cite>, was written down as early as 1818,<a id="FNanchor_34" href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">34</a> -when memory was still fresh. Its value lies in the fact -that the author wrote from the ranks, yet was so different -in education and mental equipment from his comrades, -that he does not take their views and habits for granted, -but proceeds to explain and comment on them. “I could -get,” as he notes, “no pleasure from their amusements, but -found it necessary to humour them in many things, and to -be obliging to all. I was thought saucy, and little courted -by them, they not liking my dry manner as they called it.” -His narrative is that of an intelligent observer of the behaviour -of the regiment, in whose psychology he is deeply -interested, rather than that of a typical soldier. Having -a ready pen and a keen observant eye, he produced a little -book of extraordinary interest. The chronicle of his -marches, and the details of the actions which he relates, -seem very accurate when compared with official documents.</p> - -<p>Sergeant Donaldson of the 94th was another notable -Scot whose book, <cite>The Eventful Life of a Soldier</cite>, is well worth -reading. He was not so well educated as T. S., nor had -he the same vivid literary style. But he was an intelligent -man, and possessed a wider set of interests than was -common in the ranks, so that it is always worth while to -look up his notes and observations. His description of -the horrors of Masséna’s retreat from Portugal in 1811 is -a very striking piece of lurid writing. After him may be -mentioned a quartermaster and a sergeant—Surtees and -Costello—both of the Rifle Brigade,—whose reminiscences -are full of typical stories reflecting the virtues and failings<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">31</span> -of the famous Light Division. For the views and ways of -thought of the ordinary private of the better sort, the little -books of “Rifleman Harris,” already cited above, Lawrence -of the 40th, and Cooper of the 7th Fusiliers,<a id="FNanchor_35" href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">35</a> are valuable -authority. They are admirable evidence for the way in -which the rank and file looked on a battle, a forced march, -or a prolonged shortage of rations. But we must not -trust them overmuch as authorities on the greater matter -of war.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Memoirs of French Veterans</div> - -<p>There is a considerable bulk of French reminiscences -dealing with the purely British side of the Peninsular -War. Beside Marbot’s and Thiébault’s memoirs, of -which I have already made mention, three or four more -must not be neglected by any one who wishes to see Wellington’s -army from the outside. By far the most vivid -and lively of them is Lemonnier-Delafosse of the 31st Léger, -whose <cite xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Souvenirs Militaires</cite> were published at Havre in 1850. -He is a bitter enemy, and wants to prove that Wellington -was a mediocre general, and ought always to have been -beaten. But he does his best to tell a true tale, and -acknowledges his defeats handsomely—though he thinks -that with better luck they might have been victories. -Failing memory can be detected in one or two places, where -he makes an officer fall at the wrong battle, or misnames -a village. Fantin des Odoards, also (oddly enough) of the -31st Léger, kept a journal, so that his reminiscences of -1808–11 are very accurate. He is specially valuable -for Moore’s retreat and Soult’s Oporto campaign. A far -more fair-minded man than Delafosse, he is full of acknowledgments -of the merit of his British adversaries, and makes -no secret of his disgust for the Spanish war,—a nightmare -of plunder and military executions naturally resulting from -an unjust aggression. A third valuable author is Colonel St. -Chamans, an aide-de-camp of Soult, whom he cordially<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">32</span> -detested, and whose meanness and spirit of intrigue he is -fond of exposing. He is of a light and humorous spirit—very -different from another aide-de-camp, Ney’s Swiss -follower, Sprünglin, whose journal<a id="FNanchor_36" href="#Footnote_36" class="fnanchor">36</a> is a most solid and heavy -production, of value for minute facts and figures but not -lively. Unlike St. Chamans in another respect, he is devoted -to his chief, the Marshal, of whom he was the most loyal -admirer. But I imagine that Ney was a much more -generous and loveable master than the wily Soult.</p> - -<p>Other useful French volumes of reminiscences are those -of Guingret of the 6th corps, full of horrible details of -Masséna’s Portuguese misfortunes; of D’Illens, a cavalry -officer who served against Moore and Wellesley in 1808–09; -and of Vigo-Roussillon, of the 8th Line, who gives the only -good French narrative of Barrosa. Parquin is a mere -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">sabreur</i>, who wrote his memoir too late, and whose anecdotes -cannot be trusted. He survived to be one of the followers -of Napoleon III. in his early and unhappy adventures at -Boulogne and elsewhere. Other French writers, such as -Rocca and Gonneville, were long in Spain, but little in contact -with the British, being employed on the Catalan coast, -or with the army of the South on the Granada side. So -much for the works of actors in the Great War, who relate -what they have themselves seen. We need spend but a -much smaller space on the books of the later generations, -which are but second-hand information, however carefully -they may have been compiled.</p> - -<p>The British regimental histories ought to be of great -value, since the series compiled by the order of the Horse -Guards, under the general editorship of Richard Cannon, in -the 1830’s, might have been enriched by the information -obtainable from hundreds of Peninsular veterans, who were -still surviving. Unfortunately nearly every volume of it -is no more than bad hack-work. In the majority of the -volumes we find nothing more than copious extracts from -Napier, eked out with reprints of the formal reports<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">33</span> -taken from the <cite>London Gazette</cite>. It is quite exceptional to -find even regimental statistics, such as might have been -obtained with ease from the pay-lists and other documents -in possession of the battalion, or stored at the Record Office. -Details obtained through enquiry from veteran officers who -had served through the war are quite exceptional. Some -of his volumes are less arid and jejune than others—and -this is about all that can be said in favour of even the best -of them.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Regimental Histories</div> - -<p>All the good regimental histories, without exception, -are outside the official “Cannon” series. Some are excellent; -it may be said that, as a general rule, those written -latest are the best: the standard of accuracy and original -research has been rising ever since 1860. Among those -which deserve a special word of praise are Colonel Gardyne’s -admirable <cite>The Life of a Regiment</cite> (the Gordon Highlanders), -published in 1901; Cope’s <cite>History of the Rifle Brigade</cite> -(full of excerpts from first-hand authorities) which came out -in 1877; Moorsom’s <cite>History of the 52nd Oxfordshire Light -Infantry</cite> (the first really good regimental history which was -written), published in 1860; Davis’s <cite>History of the 2nd Foot</cite> -(Queen’s West Surrey), and Colonel Hamilton’s <cite>14th Hussars</cite>. -By the time that these began to appear, the level of research -was beginning to rise, and it was no longer considered -superfluous to visit the Record Office, or to make enquiries -for unpublished papers among the families of old officers. -All those mentioned above are large volumes, but even the -smaller histories are now compiled with care, and their -size is generally the result not of scamped work (as of old), -but of the fact that some regiments have, by the chance of -their stations, seen less service than others, and therefore -have less to record. I may mention as books on the smaller -scale which have proved useful to me, Hayden’s history -of the 76th, Smyth’s of the 20th, and Purdon’s of the 47th. -A rare example of the annals of a smaller unit, a battery -not a battalion, is Colonel Whinyates’ story of C Troop, -R.H.A., which he called <cite>From Corunna to Sebastopol</cite>, in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">34</span> -which much loyal and conscientious work may be found. -But the history of the whole of the Artillery of the Peninsular -Army, Portuguese as well as English, is now being worked -out in admirable detail in the <cite>Dickson Papers</cite>, edited by -Major John Leslie, R.A., who knows everything that can -be known about the units of his corps which served under -Wellington. Sir Alexander Dickson, it may be remarked, -was Commanding Officer of the Artillery in the later -campaigns of 1813 and in 1814, and before he obtained that -post had been in charge of all the three sieges of Badajoz -as well as those of Olivenza and Ciudad Rodrigo. Since he -had been lent to the Portuguese artillery, his papers give -copious information as to the auxiliary batteries of that -nation which were attached to the Peninsular Army. It -is devoutly to be wished that some officer would take up -a corresponding task by compiling the annals of the Royal -Engineers in the Peninsular War. Connolly’s <cite>History of -the Royal Sappers and Miners</cite> (published so far back as -1857), has much good information, but infinitely more -could be compiled by searching the Record Office, and -collating the memoirs of Boothby, Burgoyne, Landmann, -and other engineer officers who have left journals or -reminiscences.</p> - -<p>Along with the British regimental histories should be -named two sets of volumes which are of the same type, -though they relate to larger units than a regiment, and do -not deal with our own troops. The first class deals with -our German auxiliaries, and is headed by Major Ludlow -Beamish’s valuable and conscientious <cite>History of the King’s -German Legion</cite>. This was written in 1832, but is a very -favourable example of research for a book of the date, when -Cannon’s miserable series represented the level of English -regimental history. The two volumes contain many original -letters and documents, and some excellent plates of uniforms. -In 1907 Captain Schwertfeger went over the same -ground in his <cite xml:lang="de" lang="de">Geschichte der Königlich Deutschen Legion</cite>,<a id="FNanchor_37" href="#Footnote_37" class="fnanchor">37</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">35</span> -and added appreciably to Beamish’s store of facts. The -Brunswick Oels regiment, which served Wellington from -1811 to 1814, has also a German biographer in Colonel Kortfleisch, -who has served in the 88th German Infantry, which -now represents that ancient corps. There is no similar -history for the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Chasseurs Brittaniques</i>, the last of the old -Peninsular foreign corps.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Portuguese Authorities</div> - -<p>For the Portuguese Army a good description of the -state of affairs in 1810, when it had just been reorganized, -is contained in Halliday’s <cite>Present State of Portugal</cite>, published -in 1812. Chaby’s <cite xml:lang="pt" lang="pt">Excerptos Historicos</cite><a id="FNanchor_38" href="#Footnote_38" class="fnanchor">38</a> contains a good deal -of valuable material for its subsequent history, but is sadly -ill-arranged and patchy. Only the Portuguese artillery in -the Peninsular War has been dealt with in Major Teixeira -Botelho’s <cite xml:lang="pt" lang="pt">Subsidios para a Historia da Artilheria Portegueza</cite>, -which is very full and well documented. The life of a -British officer serving with a Portuguese regiment can be -studied in the <cite>Memoirs of Bunbury</cite> (20th Line),<a id="FNanchor_39" href="#Footnote_39" class="fnanchor">39</a> and -Blakiston (5th Caçadores).<a id="FNanchor_40" href="#Footnote_40" class="fnanchor">40</a></p> - -<p>After regimental histories, the next most important -source of information, in the way of books not written by -those who served under Wellington, is personal biographies. -Captain Delavoye’s <cite>Life of Lord Lynedoch</cite> (Sir Thomas -Graham)<a id="FNanchor_41" href="#Footnote_41" class="fnanchor">41</a> is perhaps the most useful among them, not so -much for any merit of style or arrangement, as for the -excellent use of contemporary documents not available -elsewhere. A large portion of the volume consists of -excerpts from Graham’s long and interesting military -journal, and letters from and to him are printed <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">in extenso</i>. -Thus we get first-hand information on many events at -which no other British witness was present, <i>e.g.</i> Castaños’ -campaign on the Ebro in 1808, as well as comments on -better known operations, such as Sir John Moore’s Corunna<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">36</span> -retreat, and the Barrosa expedition of 1811. Unfortunately -both journal and letters fail for the campaign of 1813, in -which Graham took such a distinguished part.</p> - -<p>H. B. Robinson’s <cite>Memoirs of Sir Thomas Picton</cite><a id="FNanchor_42" href="#Footnote_42" class="fnanchor">42</a> was -a book of which Napier fell foul—there are many caustic -comments on it in his controversial appendices. But it -is not nearly so bad a work as might have been expected -from his way of treating it. Indeed I fancy that Napier -was paying off an old Light Division grudge against Picton -himself, whom he personally disliked. The narrative is -fair, and the quantity of contemporary letters inserted give -the compilation some value. Sidney’s <cite>Life of Lord Hill</cite><a id="FNanchor_43" href="#Footnote_43" class="fnanchor">43</a> -is far inferior to Robinson’s book: the author did not know -his Peninsular War well enough to justify the task which -he took in hand, and the letters, of which he fortunately -prints a good many, are the only valuable material in it. It -is curious that both Picton and Hill had their lives written -by clergymen, when there were still a good many old Peninsular -officers surviving who might have undertaken the -task.</p> - -<p>Of the other chief lieutenants of Wellington, Beresford -has never found a biographer, though the part which he -played in the war was so important. There must be an -immense accumulation of his papers somewhere, in private -hands, but I do not know where they lie. The only account -of him consists of a few pages in a useful but rather formal -and patchy little book by J. W. Cole, entitled, <cite>Memoirs of -British Generals Distinguished during the Peninsular War</cite>.<a id="FNanchor_44" href="#Footnote_44" class="fnanchor">44</a> -Lord Combermere (Stapleton Cotton) was in high command -throughout Wellington’s campaigns, but was hardly up -to his position, though he earned his chief’s tolerance by -strict obedience to orders, a greater merit in the Duke’s -eyes than military genius or initiative. There is a biography -of him by Lady Combermere and Captain W. Knollys (1866) -but the Peninsular chapters are short. Of Sir Lowry Cole, Sir<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">37</span> -John Gaspard Le Marchant, and several other prominent -divisional generals and brigadiers, the only biographies are -those in J. W. Cole’s book mentioned above. Sir James -Leith, more fortunate, had a small volume dedicated to -his memory by an anonymous admirer in 1818, but it -was written without sufficient material, Leith’s private -correspondence not (as it seems) being in the author’s hands, -while official documents were not for the most part available -at such an early date. There is a good deal, however, -concerning this hard-fighting general’s personality and -adventures to be gleaned from the memoirs of his nephew -and aide-de-camp, Leith Hay.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Biographies of Gough, Colborne, etc.</div> - -<p>Of officers who did not attain to the highest rank under -Wellington, but who in later years made a great career for -themselves, there are two biographies which devote a large -section to Peninsular matters, those of Lord Gough by -R. S. Rait (two vols., 1903), and of Lord Seaton (Colborne -of the 52nd) by Moore Smith. These are both excellent -productions, which give much private correspondence of -the time, and have been constructed on modern lines, with -full attention to all possible sources first- and second-hand. -They are both indispensable for any one who wishes to make -a detailed study of the Peninsular campaigns. There are -also short memoirs of Sir Denis Pack<a id="FNanchor_45" href="#Footnote_45" class="fnanchor">45</a> and Lord Vivian,<a id="FNanchor_46" href="#Footnote_46" class="fnanchor">46</a> -each produced by a grandson of the general, and giving -useful extracts from journals and correspondence. The -campaign of Sir John Moore can, perhaps, hardly be considered -as falling into the story of Wellington’s army, but -it is impossible to avoid mentioning the full (and highly -controversial) biography of the hero of Corunna by Sir -J. F. Maurice,<a id="FNanchor_47" href="#Footnote_47" class="fnanchor">47</a> which contains an invaluable diary, and -much correspondence. It is an indispensable volume, at -any rate, for those who wish to study the first year of the -Peninsular War, and to mark the difference between the -personalities and military theories of Moore and Wellington.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">38</span> -Of formal and detailed histories of the Peninsular War -written in recent years there is one in Spanish by General -Arteche, a very conscientious and thorough-going worker -at original documents, who got up a good many English -authorities, but by no means all. For the Spanish version -of the whole war he is absolutely necessary. So, for the -Portuguese version, is the immense work of Soriano da -Luz, which is largely founded on Napier, but often differs -from him, and brings many unpublished documents to light. -Colonel Balagny has started a history of the war in French -on a very large scale, delightfully documented, and showing -admirable research. In five volumes he has only just got -into 1809, so the whole book will be a large one. Mr. Fortescue’s -fine history of the British Army has just started -on the Peninsular campaign in its last volume. To my -own four volumes, soon I hope to be five, I need only allude -in passing. There is one immense monograph on Dupont’s -Campaign by a French author, Colonel Titeux, which does -not touch English military affairs at all. Two smaller but -good works of the same type by Colonel Dumas and Commandant -Clerc are both, oddly enough, dedicated to the -same campaign,—Soult’s defence of the Pyrenean frontier -in 1813–14: the former is the better of the two: both have -endeavoured, in the modern fashion, to use the reports of -both sides, not to write from the documents of one only; -but Dumas has a better knowledge of his English sources -than Clerc.</p> - -<p>It is beyond my power to guess why similar monographs -on separate campaigns of the war do not appear in English -also. But the few <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">brochures</i> purporting to treat of such -which have appeared of late on this side of the channel, -are mostly cram-books for examinations, resting on no wide -knowledge of sources, and often consisting of little more -than an analysis of Napier, with some supplementary comments -hazarded. They contrast very unfavourably with a -book such as that of Colonel Dumas.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">39</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_III" class="vspace">CHAPTER III<br /> - -<span class="subhead">THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON—THE MAN AND THE STRATEGIST</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>So much for our sources. We may now proceed to discover -what we can deduce from them. And we must inevitably -begin with a consideration of the great leader of the British -army. I am not writing a life of Wellington, still less a -commentary on his campaigns—with which I am trying -to deal elsewhere. My object is rather to paint him as he -appeared to his own army, and as his acts and his writings -reveal him during the course of his Peninsular campaigns. -The Arthur Wellesley of 1809 is difficult to disentangle in -our own memories from the familiar figure of Victorian -reminiscences. We think of him as the “Great Duke,” -the first and most honoured subject of the crown, round -whom centre so many stories, more or less well founded, -illustrating his disinterestedness, his hatred of phrases, -insincerities, sentiment, and humbug generally, his punctiliousness, -his bleak frugality, and his occasional scathing -directness of speech—for he could never “suffer fools -gladly.” He had become a legend long before he died, -and it takes an effort of mind to differentiate the old man -of 1850 from the general of 1809, who had still, in the eyes -of most men, his reputation to make. For those who understood -the greatness of his Indian exploits were few. It -was not Napoleon only who thought that to call Wellesley -a “sepoy general” was sufficient to reduce his reputation -to that of a facile victor over contemptible enemies.</p> - -<p>When he took command of the Peninsular Army in the -April of that year, Arthur Wellesley was thirty-nine: he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">40</span> -had just reached early middle age. He was a slight but -wiry man of middle stature, well built and erect, with a -long face, an aquiline nose, and a keen but cold grey eye. -His reputation as a soldier was already high; but few save -those who had served under him in India understood the -full scope of his abilities. Many undervalued him, because -he was a member of a well-known, but ill-loved family -and political group, and had owed his early promotion and -opportunities of distinguishing himself to that fact. It -was still open to critics to say that the man who had commanded -a battalion in the old Revolutionary War at the -age of twenty-three, and who had headed an army in India -before he was quite thirty, had got further to the front -than he deserved by political influence. And it was true -(though the fact is so often forgotten), that in his early -years he had got much help from his connections, that he -had obtained his unique chance in India because he was -the brother of a viceroy, and that since his return from the -East he had been more of a politician than a general. Was -he not, even when he won Vimeiro, Secretary for Ireland in -the Tory government of the day? It was a post whose -holder had to dabble in much dirty work, when dealing -with the needy peers, the grovelling place-mongers, and -the intriguing lawyers of Dublin. Wellesley went through -with it all, and not by any means in a conciliatory way. -He passed the necessary jobs, but did not hide from the -jobbers his scorn for them. When the Secretary for Ireland -had to deal with any one whom he disliked, he showed a -happy mixture of aristocratic hauteur and cold intellectual -contempt, which sent the petitioner away in a bitter frame -of mind, whether his petition had been granted or no. -Unfortunately, he carried this manner from the Irish -Secretaryship on to the Headquarters of the Peninsular -Army. It did not tend to make him loved.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington and the Whigs</div> - -<p>Fortunately for Great Britain, it does not always follow -that, because a man has been pushed rapidly to the front -by political influence, he is therefore incompetent or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">41</span> -unworthy of the place given him. Every one who came into -personal contact with Arthur Wellesley soon recognized -that Castlereagh and the other ministers had not erred -when they sent the “Sepoy General” to Portugal in 1808, -and when they, despite of all the clamour following the -Convention of Cintra, despatched him a second time to -Lisbon in 1809, this time with full control of the Peninsular -Army. From the first opening of his Vimeiro campaign -the troops that he led had the firmest confidence in him—they -saw the skill with which he handled them, and criticism -very soon died away. It was left for Whig politicians at -home, carpers with not the slightest knowledge of war, to -go on asserting for a couple of years more that he was an -over-rated officer, that he was rash and reckless, and that -his leadership would end, on some not very distant day, -with the expulsion of the British army from the Peninsula. -At the front there were very few such doubters—though -contemporary letters have proved to me that one or two -were to be found.<a id="FNanchor_48" href="#Footnote_48" class="fnanchor">48</a></p> - -<p>To say that Wellington from the first was trusted alike -by his officers and his men, is by no means to say that he -was loved by them. He did everything that could win -confidence, but little that could attract affection. They -recognized that he was marvellously capable, but that he -was without the supreme gift of sympathy for others. -“The sight of his long nose among us,” wrote one of his -veterans, “was worth ten thousand men any day of the -week. I will venture to say that there was not a heart in -the army which did not beat more lightly when we heard -the joyful news of his arrival.”<a id="FNanchor_49" href="#Footnote_49" class="fnanchor">49</a> But this does not mean -that he was regarded with an enthusiasm of the emotional<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">42</span> -and affectionate sort. Another Light Division officer -sums up the position in the coldest words that I have ever -seen applied to the relations of a great general with his -victorious army. “I know that it has been said that -Wellington was unpopular with the army. Now I can -assert with respect to the Light Division that the troops -<em>rather liked him than otherwise</em>.... Although Wellington -was not what may be called popular, still the troops possessed -great confidence in him, nor did I ever hear a single -individual express an opinion to the contrary.”<a id="FNanchor_50" href="#Footnote_50" class="fnanchor">50</a></p> - -<p>There must, indeed, have been something to repel -enthusiasm and affection in the leader of whom, after five -years of victories won and hardships suffered in common, -it could be said that his troops “rather liked him than -otherwise.” But they found that he was a hard master, -slow to praise and swift to blame and to punish. Though -he knew the military virtues of his rank and file, and -acknowledged that they had more than once “got him out -of a scrape” by performing the almost impossible, he did -not love them. He has left on record unpardonable words -concerning his men. “They are the scum of the earth. -English soldiers are fellows who have enlisted for drink—that -is the plain fact: they have <em>all</em> enlisted for drink.”<a id="FNanchor_51" href="#Footnote_51" class="fnanchor">51</a> -Quite as bad in spirit is one of his sayings before a Royal -Commission on the Army. “I have no idea of any great -effect being produced on British soldiers by anything but -the fear of immediate corporal punishment.” Naturally -enough a leader with such views never appealed to the -better side of his men: he never spoke or wrote about -honour or patriotism to them, but frequently reminded -them of the lash and the firing-party, that were the -inevitable penalty for the straggler, the drunkard, the -plunderer, and the deserter. Nothing cooled the spirits of -officers and men alike more than the strength and vigour -of his rebukes, as compared with the official formality of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">43</span> -his terms of praise. It was possible to have a full appreciation -of his marvellous powers of brain, and a complete -confidence in him as a leader, without feeling the least -touch of affection for this hard and unsympathetic figure.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington and his Men</div> - -<p>The distressing point in all this is that the Peninsular -Army, though it had its proportion of hardened sots and -criminals, was full of good soldiers who knew what honour -and loyalty meant, and were perfectly capable of answering -any stirring appeal to their heart or their brain. There -are dozens of diaries and autobiographies written in the -ranks which show the existence of a vast class of well-conditioned -intelligent, sober, even religious men, who were -doing their work conscientiously, and would have valued -a word of praise—they often got it from their regimental -officers—seldom from their commander-in-chief. And we -may add that if anything was calculated to brutalize an -army it was the wicked cruelty of the British military -punishment code, which Wellington to the end of his life -supported. There is plenty of authority for the fact that -the man who had once received his 500 lashes for a fault -which was small, or which involved no moral guilt, was -often turned thereby from a good into a bad soldier, by -losing his self-respect and having his sense of justice seared -out. Good officers knew this well enough, and did their -best to avoid the cat-of-nine-tails, and to try more rational -means—more often than not with success.<a id="FNanchor_52" href="#Footnote_52" class="fnanchor">52</a></p> - -<p>It might have been expected that Wellington would at -least show more regard for the feelings of his officers, however -much he might contemn his rank and file. As a rule -he did not. He had some few intimates whom he treated -with a certain familiarity, and it is clear that he showed -consideration and even kindness to his aides-de-camp -and other personal retainers. But to the great majority -of his officers, even to many of his generals and heads of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">44</span> -departments, he bore himself very stiffly: he would administer -to them humiliating snubs or reproofs before others, and -ignore their remarks or proffered counsel in the most marked -way. A few examples may serve. Sir Thomas Picton -was one of his most distinguished lieutenants, and was -specially summoned by him to come over to Brussels to -take his part in the campaign of 1815. The moment that -he arrived in the Belgian capital he sought the Duke, who -was walking in the Great Park. We have the witness of -Picton’s aide-de-camp for the following reception. “The -general’s manner was always more familiar than the Duke -liked in his lieutenants, and on this occasion he approached -him in a careless sort of way, just as he might have greeted -an equal. The Duke bowed coldly to him, and said, ‘I -am glad you are come, Sir Thomas. The sooner you get -on horseback the better: no time to be lost. You will -take the command of the troops in advance.’ That was all. -Picton appeared not to like the Duke’s manner, and when -he had bowed and left, he muttered words which convinced -those who were with him that he was not much pleased -with his interview.”<a id="FNanchor_53" href="#Footnote_53" class="fnanchor">53</a> Such was the welcome vouchsafed -to one of the best officers in the army, whom Wellington -had specially sent for, and whom he had not seen for a long -space of time. Another picture of Wellington’s manners -may be taken from the memoir of one of his departmental -chiefs, Sir James McGrigor. “One morning I was in his -lordship’s small room, when two officers came to request -leave to go home to England. An engineer captain first -made his request: he had received letters informing him that -his wife was dangerously ill, and that the whole of his family -were sick. His lordship quickly replied, ‘No, no, sir. I -cannot spare you at this moment.’ The captain, with a -mournful face, drew back. Then a general officer, of noble -family, commanding a brigade, advanced saying, ‘My -lord, I have lately been suffering much from rheumatism——’. -Without allowing him time to complete his sentence,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">45</span> -Lord Wellington rapidly said, ‘and you want to go to -England to be cured. By all means. Go there immediately.’ -The general, surprised at his lordship’s tone and -manner, looked abashed, but to prevent his saying anything -more, his lordship turned and began to address me, enquiring -about the casualty-returns of the preceding night, -and the nature of them.”<a id="FNanchor_54" href="#Footnote_54" class="fnanchor">54</a> An interview with the commander-in-chief -was such a trying thing for the nerves -that some officers went away from it in a flood of tears—as -did Charles Stewart after one famous reproof—and others -suffocating from suppressed maledictions.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington and his Officers</div> - -<p>Wellington’s temper was tried by having to deal with -some inefficient and slack officers—foisted upon him from -home—for never till the end of the war (as he bitterly complained) -was he allowed complete liberty in choosing his -subordinates. But it was not on them alone that his -thunders fell. He often raged at zealous and capable -subordinates, who had done no more than think for themselves -in an urgent crisis, when the orders that they had -received seemed no longer applicable. Sir James McGrigor, -whom I have just quoted above, once moved some commissariat -stores to Salamanca, where there was a great -accumulation of sick and wounded. “When I came to -inform him his lordship started up, and in a violent manner -began to repudiate what I had done. ‘I shall be glad to -know,’ he asked, ‘who commands this army—I or you? -I establish one route, one line of communication—you -establish another by ordering up supplies by it. As long -as you live, sir, never do that again. Never do <em>anything</em> -without my orders.’ I pleaded that there had been no -time to consult him, and that I had to save lives. He -peremptorily desired me ‘never again to act without his -orders.’” Three months afterwards McGrigor ventured to -say, “My lord, you will remember how much you blamed -me at Madrid, for the steps that I took when I could not -consult your lordship, and acted for myself. Now, if I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">46</span> -had not, what would the consequences have been?” He -answered, “It is all right as it has turned out, but still I -recommend you to <em>have my orders for what you do</em>.” This -was a singular feature in his lordship’s character.</p> - -<p>Anything that seemed to Wellington to partake of the -nature of thinking for oneself was an unpardonable sin in -a subordinate. This is why he preferred blind obedience -in his lieutenants to zeal and energy which might lead to -some contravention of his own intention. Thus it came -that he preferred as lieutenants not only Hill, who was a -man of first-class brain-power notwithstanding his docility, -but Spencer and Beresford, who most certainly were not. -Hence, too, his commission of the cavalry arm throughout -the war to such a mediocre personage as Stapleton Cotton -(of whom he used the most unflattering language).<a id="FNanchor_55" href="#Footnote_55" class="fnanchor">55</a> These -men could be trusted to obey without reasoning, while -Robert Craufurd, the ablest general in the Peninsula, or -Picton, could not, but were liable to think for themselves. -It may be noted that Hill, Beresford, Graham and Craufurd, -were the only officers to whom Wellington ever condescended -in his correspondence to give the why and -wherefore of a command that he issued: the others simply -received orders without any commentary. There are -instances known in which a word of reasonable explanation -to a subordinate would have enabled him to understand a -situation, and to comprehend why directions otherwise -incomprehensible were given him. Tiresome results occasionally -followed. This foible of refusing information to -subordinates for no adequate reason has been shared by -other great generals—<i>e.g.</i> by Stonewall Jackson, as Colonel -Henderson’s biography of that strange genius sufficiently -shows. It is a trick of the autocratic mind.</p> - -<p>It hardly requires to be pointed out that this determination -to allow no liberty of action to his lieutenants, and to -keep even small decisions in his own hands, effectually prevented -Wellington from forming a school of generals capable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">47</span> -of carrying out large independent operations. He trained -admirable divisional commanders, but not leaders of armies. -The springs of self-confidence were drained out of men who -had for long been subjected to his <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">régime</i>.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington’s Dispatches</div> - -<p>Probably the thing which irritated Wellington’s subordinates -most was his habit of making his official mention -of names in dispatches little more than a formal recital -in order of the senior officers present. Where grave -mistakes had been committed, he still stuck the names -of the misdemeanants in the list, among those of the men -who had really done the work. A complete mystification -as to their relative merits would be produced, if we had only -the dispatches to read, and no external commentary on -them. He honourably mentioned Murray in his Oporto -dispatch, Erskine in his dispatch concerning the actions -during Masséna’s retreat in 1811, Trip in his Waterloo dispatch, -though each of these officers had done his best to spoil -the operations in which he was concerned. On the other -hand, he would make the most unaccountable omissions: -his Fuentes de Oñoro dispatch makes no mention of the -British artillery, which had done most brilliant service in -that battle, not merely in the matter of Norman Ramsay’s -well-known exploit, which Wellington might have thought -too small a matter to mention, but in the decisive checking -of the main French attack. There are extant heart-rending -letters from the senior officers commanding the artillery, -deploring the way in which they have been completely -ignored: “to read the dispatch, there might have been no -British artillery present at all.” A similar inexplicable -omission of any record of zealous service occurs in Wellington’s -dispatch recording the fall of Badajoz, where no -special praise of the services of his engineer officers is made, -though 50 per cent. of them had been killed or wounded -during the siege. “You may suppose we all feel hurt at -finding our exertions have not been deemed worthy of any -sort of eulogium,” writes John Jones, the historian of the -sieges of the Peninsula, to one of his colleagues. And<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">48</span> -Fletcher, the commanding engineer, writes to a friend: -“You will observe that Lord W. has not mentioned the -engineers in the late actions: how I hate such capriciousness!”<a id="FNanchor_56" href="#Footnote_56" class="fnanchor">56</a> -The cold phrase in which their desperate service -was acknowledged is “the officers and men of the corps -of engineers and artillery were equally distinguished during -the operations of the siege and its close.” Fletcher would -gladly have exchanged the personal honour of a decoration, -which was given him along with other senior officers, for -three lines of warm praise of the exertions of his subordinates.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Lord Roberts on Wellington</div> - -<p>Perhaps, however, the most astounding instance of -Wellington’s ungracious omissions is that his famous -Waterloo dispatch contains no mention whatever of the -services of Colborne and the 52nd, the battalion which -gave the decisive stroke against the flank of the Imperial -Guard, during Napoleon’s last desperate assault on the -British line. Colborne, the most unselfish and generous -of men, could never forget this slight. He tried to -excuse it, saying, “dispatches are written in haste, and -it is impossible for a general to do justice to his army.” -And when he heard his officers complaining that the -British Guards had been given all the credit for the final -repulse of the French column, he said, “For shame, -gentlemen! One would think that you forgot that the -52nd had ever been in battle before.” But there was -a bitter comment in the table talk of his later years. -“The Duke was occasionally not above writing in his -dispatches to please the aristocracy.... I don’t mean -to say that this was peculiar to him. It used to be a -common thing with general officers.”<a id="FNanchor_57" href="#Footnote_57" class="fnanchor">57</a> Enough, however, -of these illustrative anecdotes of the limitations of a very -great soldier and a very honourable man. They have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">49</span> -to be mentioned in order to explain how it came to pass -that Wellington was implicitly trusted, and never loved. -But they compel me to acquiesce in the hard judgment -which Lord Roberts wrote in his <cite>Rise of Wellington</cite>—“the -more we go into his actions and his writings in detail, -the more do we respect and admire him as a general, and the -less do we like him as a man.” I conclude this paragraph -with two quotations from two eloquent writers who served -through long years of the Peninsular campaigns. “Thus -terminated the war, and with it all remembrances of the -veteran’s services” are the last words of William Napier’s -penultimate chapter.<a id="FNanchor_58" href="#Footnote_58" class="fnanchor">58</a> Grattan of the 88th, a forgotten -writer now, but one who wielded a descriptive pen no less -vivid than Napier’s, puts the complaint more bitterly. -“In his parting General Order to the Peninsular Army he -told us that he would never cease to feel the warmest -interest for our welfare and honour. How that promise -has been kept every one knows. That the Duke of Wellington -is one of the most remarkable (perhaps the greatest) -men of the present age, few will deny. But that he -neglected the interests and feelings of his Peninsular army, -as a body, is beyond all question. And were he in his grave -to-morrow, hundreds of voices that now are silent would -echo what I write.”<a id="FNanchor_59" href="#Footnote_59" class="fnanchor">59</a></p> - -<p>If I have dwelt perhaps at over-great length on the -limitations of Wellington’s heart, it is only fair that full credit -should be given to his wonderful powers of brain. To comprehend -the actual merit of his military career, it is not -sufficient to possess a mere knowledge of the details of his -tactics and his strategy. The conditions under which he -had to exercise his talents were exceptionally trying and -difficult. When he assumed command at Lisbon on April -22, 1809, the French were in possession of all Northern and -Central Spain, and of no inconsiderable part of Northern -Portugal also. The Spanish armies had all been dashed to -pieces—there was no single one of them which had not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">50</span> -suffered a crushing defeat, and some of them (such as -Cuesta’s army of Estremadura, and La Romana’s army of -Galicia) were at the moment little better than wandering -bands of fugitives. The British army of which Wellesley -took command when he landed at Lisbon, though it only -mustered 19,000 men present, or 21,000 including men in -hospital, was the only solid force, in good order and intact -in <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">morale</i>, on which the allies could count in the Iberian -Peninsula. The task set before Wellesley was to see if -he could defend Portugal, and co-operate in the protection -of Southern Spain, it being obvious that the French were -in vastly superior numbers, and well able to take the -offensive if they should chose to do so. There were two -armies threatening Lisbon. The one under Soult had -already captured Oporto and overrun two Portuguese provinces, -shortly before Wellesley’s landing. The other, under -Victor, lay in Estremadura close to the Portuguese border, -and had recently destroyed the largest surviving Spanish -army at the battle of Medellin on March 28. Was it -possible that 19,000 British troops could save the Peninsula -from conquest, or even that they could keep up the war -in Central Portugal? Never was a more unpromising task -set to the commander of a small army.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington’s Powers of Prescience</div> - -<p>Fortunately we possess three documents from Wellesley’s -own hand, which show us the way in which he surveyed the -position that was before him, and stated his views as to the -future course of the Peninsular War. He recognized that -it was about to be a very long business, and that his task -was simply to keep the war going as long as possible, with -the limited resources at his disposition. Ambitious schemes -for the expulsion of the French from the whole Peninsula -were in 1809 perfectly futile. The hypothesis which he -sets forth in the first of the three documents to which I -allude, his <cite>Memorandum on the Defence of Portugal</cite>, laid -before Castlereagh on March 7, before he had taken ship -for Lisbon, is a marvel of prophetic genius. No more -prescient document was ever written. Rejecting the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">51</span> -decision of Sir John Moore, who had declared that Portugal -was quite indefensible, Wellesley states that a British army -of not less than 30,000 men, backed by the levies of Portugal, -ought to be able to maintain itself for an almost indefinite -period on the flank of the French army in Spain. Its presence -on the Tagus would paralyse all offensive movements -of the enemy, and enable the Spaniards to make head in -the unsubdued provinces of their realm, so long as Portugal -should remain intact. The French ought, if they were -wise, to turn all their disposable forces against the British -army and Portugal, but he believed that even then, when -the geography of the country was taken into consideration, -they would fail in their attempt to overrun it. They could -not succeed, as he held, unless they were able to set aside -100,000 men for the task, and he did not see how in the -spring of 1809 they could spare such a large detachment, -out of the forces which they then possessed in the Peninsula. -If they tried it with a smaller army, he thought -that he could undertake to foil them. He believed that -he could cope with Soult and Victor, the two enemies who -immediately threatened Portugal.<a id="FNanchor_60" href="#Footnote_60" class="fnanchor">60</a></p> - -<p>Further forward it was impossible to look. If a war -should break out between Napoleon and Austria, as seemed -likely at the moment in March, 1809, to one who (like himself) -was in the secrets of the British Cabinet, the Emperor -would not be able to send reinforcements to Spain for -many a day. But, even so, the position of the French in -the Peninsula was so strong that it could only be endangered -if a very large allied force, acting in unison under -the guidance of a single general, should be brought to bear -upon them. Of the collection of such a force, and still -more of the possibility of its being entrusted to his own -command, there was as yet no question. Wellesley was -aware of the jealousy of foreign interference which the -Spanish Junta nurtured: there was little probability that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">52</span> -they would entrust him with the supreme control over -their armies. It was, indeed, only in 1812, when he had -acquired for himself a much greater reputation than he -owned in 1809, and when the Spanish Government had -drunk the cup of humiliation to the dregs, that he was -finally given the position of commander-in-chief of the -Spanish armies.</p> - -<p>This memorandum is a truly inspired document, which -shows Wellesley at his best. It is not too much to say that -it predicts the whole course of the Peninsular War—whose -central point was to be invasion of Portugal in 1810 by a -French army of 65,000 instead of the required 100,000 men, -and that army, as he had foreseen, Wellesley was able to -check and foil.</p> - -<p>The second document of a prophetic sort that we have -to notice is Wellesley’s reply to Mr. Canning’s question to -him as regards the future general policy of the war, written -on September 5, 1809. The whole aspect of affairs had -been much changed since March, by the fact that Austria -had tried her luck in a war against Napoleon, and had -been beaten at Wagram and forced to make peace. It -was therefore certain that the Emperor would now have -his hands free again, and be able to reinforce his armies -in the Peninsula. Wellesley replies that it is hopeless -to attempt to defend both Southern Spain and Portugal -also, even if the British army were raised to 40,000 men. -But Portugal can still be defended.<a id="FNanchor_61" href="#Footnote_61" class="fnanchor">61</a> He expresses the -strongest objection to any attempt to cover Andalusia and -Seville, for to endeavour to do so must mean that Lisbon -would have to be given up.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Lines of Torres Vedras</div> - -<p>The third great prophetic despatch is the Memorandum -of October 26, 1809, ordering the construction of the Lines -of Torres Vedras. Wellesley looks a full year ahead. He -sees that Napoleon can now reinforce his Spanish armies, -but that the new troops cannot get up till the next spring. -When they appear, the British army will have to retreat<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">53</span> -on Lisbon, where lines of such strength can be planned -that there is a good prospect of bringing the invaders -to a stand. Meanwhile the countryside shall be cleared -of population and provisions, so that the French, if they -keep concentrated, must starve, and the allied army shall -so conduct its operations that the enemy will be compelled -to remain <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">en masse</i>. Then follow directions to Colonel -Fletcher (commanding the engineers) to make his plans -for an immense line of redoubts covering the Lisbon peninsula -from sea to sea. What was foreseen came to pass: the -French reinforcements arrived: the invasion of Portugal -under Masséna took place in 1810. But the whole countryside -was swept clear of food, and when the marshal reached -the Lines with his half-starved army, he was completely -blocked, refused to attack the formidable positions, and, -after a few weeks of endurance in front of them, withdrew -with his famished troops. It was on October 26, 1809, -that Wellington ordered the Lines to be laid out. On -October 14, 1810, Masséna appeared in front of them and -was foiled: Wellington had made his preparations exactly -a year ahead!</p> - -<p>Careful long-sighted calculation was perhaps the Duke’s -strongest point. He had an immense grasp of detail, -kept intelligence officers of picked ability out on every -front, and had compiled an almost exactly correct muster-roll -of the forces opposed to him. Seldom had a general -of his time such a complete knowledge of his adversaries, -and this he owed to the pains that he took to obtain it. -His great scouts Colquhoun Grant,<a id="FNanchor_62" href="#Footnote_62" class="fnanchor">62</a> Waters, and Rumann -were always far out to the front, often within the French -lines, sending him daily information, which he filed and -dissected. In addition he had many Spanish and Portuguese -correspondents, whose information would have been -more valuable if it had not contained too much hearsay, -and if they had been able to judge numbers with the trained<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">54</span> -eye of a soldier. Once he complained that he and Marmont -were almost equally handicapped as regards information -from the natives—for if the Frenchmen got none, he himself -got too much: the proportion of it which was inaccurate -spoiled the value of the rest. But Grant or Waters never -made mistakes. Part of his system was the cross-questioning -of every deserter and prisoner as to the number -and brigading of his regiment, and the amount of battalions -that it contained. By constant comparison of these reports -he got to know the exact number of units in every French -corps, and their average strength.</p> - -<p>But this was less important than his faculty for judging -the individual characters of his opponents. After a few -weeks he got his fixed opinion on Masséna or Victor, Soult -or Marmont, and would lay his plans with careful reference -to their particular foibles. I think that this is what he -meant when he once observed that his own merit was, perhaps, -that he knew more of “what was going on upon -the other side of the hill,”—in the invisible ground occupied -by the enemy and hidden by the fog of war—than most -men.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington’s Insight into Character</div> - -<p>This insight into the enemy’s probable move, when their -strength, their object, and the personal tendencies of their -leader were known, was a most valuable part of Wellesley’s -mental equipment. The best known instance where it -came into play was on the day of Sorauren. In the midst -of the battles of the Pyrenees, when the British army had -taken up its fighting position, though its numbers were as -yet by no means complete, and two divisions were still -marching up, Wellington arrived from the west to assume -command. He could see Soult on the opposite hill surrounded -by his staff, and it was equally certain that Soult -could see him, and knew the reason of the cheer which ran -along the front of the allied army as he rode up. Wellington -judged, and rightly, that the news of his arrival, and the -sight of him in position, would cause the marshal to delay -his attack till the last of the French reserves had come on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">55</span> -the field. “I had an excellent glass: I saw him spying -at us—then write and send off a letter: <em>I knew what he would -be writing</em>, and gave my orders accordingly.”<a id="FNanchor_63" href="#Footnote_63" class="fnanchor">63</a> Wellington -judged Soult a cautious general, knew that his own presence -would redouble his caution, and so judged that the order -given by the marshal would be for the checking of a -threatened attack, which would have been very dangerous -at the moment, if it had been pressed. “The 6th Division -will have time to come up, and we shall beat him,” is said -to have been his comment, when he saw Soult hurriedly -write and dispatch an order to his front line.</p> - -<p>Wellington played off a similar piece of bluff on Marmont -at Fuente Guinaldo in September, 1811, when he -drew up in a position strong indeed, but over-great for the -numbers that he had in hand, and seemed to offer battle. -He was aware that his own reputation for caution was so -great that, if the enemy saw him halt and take up his ground, -they would judge that he had concentrated his whole force, -and would not attack him till their own reserves were near. -He absconded unmolested in the night, while Marmont’s -rear columns were toiling up for the expected battle of the -next day.</p> - -<p>For a long time in 1809–10 Wellesley had to assume a defensive -attitude. It was not till 1811 that it at last became -possible for him to think of taking the offensive, nor was -it till 1812, the glorious year of Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, -and Salamanca, that the dream reached its realization. -Hence came it that for a long time he was regarded only as -a cautious and calculating general, a master of defensive -warfare. This conception of him was wrong; as events -showed, in 1812–1813, that he could be a very thunderbolt -of war, when propitious chance gave him the opportunity, -could strike the boldest blows, and launch his army upon -the enemy with the most ruthless energy. But, in the -earlier years of his command, he was always hopelessly -outnumbered, and forced to parry rather than to strike.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">56</span> -He had to run no risks with his precious little army, the -30,000 British troops on whom the whole defence of the -Peninsula really depended: because if it were destroyed it -could not be replaced. With these 30,000 men he had -covenanted, in his agreement with Castlereagh, when first -he sailed to take command at Lisbon, that he would keep -up the war indefinitely. If by taking some great risk he -had lost 15,000 or even 10,000 men, the government would -have called him home, and would have given up the struggle. -Thus he had to fight with the consciousness that a single -disaster might ruin not only his own plans, but the whole -cause of the allies in Spain. No wonder that his actions -seem cautious! Yet even in 1810–1811 he took some -serious risks, such as the offering of battle at Bussaco and -Fuentes de Oñoro. When even a partial defeat would -mean his own recall, and the evacuation of Portugal, it -required no small resolution even to face such chances as -these. But his serene and equable temper could draw the -exact line between legitimate and over-rash enterprise, -and never betrayed him.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington on the Offensive</div> - -<p>All the more striking, therefore, was the sudden development -into a bold offensive policy which marked the -commencement of that year of victories 1812. The chance -had at last come: Napoleon was ceasing to pour reinforcements -into Spain—the Russian War was beginning to -loom near at hand. The French no longer possessed their -former overwhelming superiority: in order to hold in check -Wellington’s army, now at last increased by troops from -home to 40,000 British sabres and bayonets, they had to -concentrate from every quarter, and risk their hold on many -provinces in order to collect a force so large that the British -general could not dare to face it. At last, in the winter of -1811–1812, Napoleon himself intervened as Wellington’s -helper, by dispersing his armies too broadcast. The actually -fatal move was the sending of 15,000 of Marmont’s “Army -of Portugal,” the immediate adversary of the Anglo-Portuguese -host, for a distant expedition to the coast of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">57</span> -Mediterranean in aid of Marshal Suchet. It was the absence -of this great detachment, which could not return for many -weeks, that emboldened Wellington to make his first great -offensive stroke, the storming of Ciudad Rodrigo on January -19, 1812, after a siege of only twelve days.</p> - -<p>Following on this first success came the dear-bought -but decisive success of the storming of Badajoz on April 7; -this was a costly business, because Wellington had to operate -“against time,” since, if he lingered over-long, the French -armies from north and south would combine, outnumber -him, and drive him back into Portugal. Badajoz had to -be stormed by sheer force, before all the arts of the engineer -and artillerist had worked their full effect. The fire of the -besieged had not been subdued, nor had the approaches of -the assailants been pushed close up to the walls, as science -would have dictated. But by making three simultaneous -attacks on different points of the fortress, and succeeding -at two of them, Wellington achieved his object and solved -his “time problem.” He showed here, for the first time, -that he could, if it was necessary, spend the lives of his -men remorselessly, in order to finish in a few days a task -which, if much longer delayed, would have had to be abandoned. -This was to his French enemies a revelation of -a new side of his character. He had been esteemed one -who refused risks and would not accept losses. If they had -known of the details of his old Indian victory of Assaye, -they would have judged his character more truly.</p> - -<p>But Salamanca was the real revelation of Wellington’s -full powers. It was a lightning stroke, a sudden offensive -movement made at a crisis of momentary opportunity, -which would have ceased if the hour had not been -seized with all promptitude. Wellington hurled his army -unexpectedly at the enemy, who was manœuvring in full -confidence and tranquillity in front of his line, thinking that -he had to deal with an adversary who might accept a battle -(as at Vimeiro, Talavera, or Bussaco), but might be trusted -not to force one on. Salamanca surprised and dismayed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">58</span> -the more sagacious of the French officers. Foy, the most -intelligent observer among them, put down in his diary -six days later, “This battle is the most cleverly fought, -the largest in scale, the most important in results, of any -that the English have won in recent times. It brings up -Lord Wellington’s reputation almost to the level of that -of Marlborough. Up to this day we knew his prudence, -his eye for choosing good positions, and the skill with which -he used them. But at Salamanca he has shown himself -a great and able master of manœuvring. He kept his dispositions -hidden nearly the whole day: he allowed us to -develop our movement before he pronounced his own: he -played a close game; he utilized the “oblique order” in -the style of Frederick the Great.... The catastrophe -of the Spanish War has come—for six months we ought to -have seen that it was quite probable.”<a id="FNanchor_64" href="#Footnote_64" class="fnanchor">64</a></p> - -<p>This is one of the most striking and handsome compliments -ever paid by a general of a beaten army to the commander -of the victorious adversaries. It is perfectly true, -and it reflects the greatest credit on Foy’s fair-mindedness -and readiness to see facts as they were. The conqueror of -Salamanca was for the future a much more terrifying -enemy than the victor of Bussaco or Talavera had been. -It is one thing to be repulsed—that had often happened to -the French before—another to be suddenly assailed, -scattered, and driven off the field with crushing losses and -in hopeless disorder, as happened to Wellington’s enemies -under the shadow of the Arapiles on July 22, 1812.</p> - -<p>Wellington as a great master of the offensive came into -prominence in 1812, and for the rest of the war it is this side -of him which is most frequently visible, though the retreat -from Burgos shows that his prudence was as much alive -as ever. During the few days that preceded that retreat -there was very great temptation to try a hard stroke at -one of the French armies that were converging on the two -halves of his own force. Napoleon would undoubtedly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">59</span> -have made the attempt. But, Wellington, knowing that -his own total numbers were much inferior to those of the -enemy, and that to concentrate in front of either Soult or -Souham would be to take a terrible risk on the other flank, -preferred a concentric retreat towards his base on the -frontier of Portugal, to a battle in the plains of Castille, -where he was far from home and support, and where a -defeat might lead to absolute ruin.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Campaigns of 1813–1814</div> - -<p>This was the last time that he was outnumbered and -forced back upon his old methods. In 1813, owing to -Napoleon’s drafts from the army of Spain, which were called -off to replace the troops lost in the Moscow campaign, the -allies had at last a superiority in numbers, though that -superiority consisted entirely in Spanish troops of doubtful -solidity. But even these were conditions far more favourable -than Wellington had ever enjoyed before—he knew -how to use his newly joined Spanish divisions in a useful -fashion, without placing them in the more dangerous and -responsible positions. The campaigns of 1813 and 1814 -are both essentially offensive in character, though they -contain one or two episodes when Wellington was, for the -moment, on the defensive in his old style, notably the early -part of the battles of the Pyrenees, where, till his reserves -came up, he was fending off Soult by the use of his more -advanced divisions. But the moment that his army was -assembled he struck hard, and chased the enemy over the -frontier, again in the series of operations that begun on the -last day of Sorauren. There was a very similar episode -during the operations that are generally known as the battle -of the Nive, where Wellington had twice to stand for a -movement in position, while one of his wings was assailed -by Soult’s main body. But this was distinctly what we -may call defensive tactical detail, in a campaign that was -essentially offensive on the whole. The main character -of the operations of 1813–14 may be described as the -clearing out of the enemy from a series of positions—generally -heavily fortified—by successful breaking through of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">60</span> -lines which Soult on each occasion failed to hold. Invariably -the French army was nailed down to the position which it -had taken up, by demonstrations all along its front, while -the decisive blow was given at selected points by a mass -of troops collected for the main stroke.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">61</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_IV" class="vspace">CHAPTER IV<br /> - -<span class="subhead">WELLINGTON’S INFANTRY TACTICS—LINE <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">VERSUS</i> COLUMN</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Everyone who takes a serious interest in military history -is aware that, in a general way, the victories of Wellington -over his French adversaries were due to a skilful use of the -two-deep line against the massive column, which had become -the usual fighting-formation for a French army acting on -the offensive, during the later years of the great war that -raged from 1792 till 1814. But I am not sure that the -methods and limitations of Wellington’s system are fully -appreciated, and they are well worth explaining. And on -the other hand it would not be true to imagine that all -French fighting, without exception, was conducted in column, -or that blows delivered by the solid masses whose aspect -the English knew so well, were the only ideal of the Napoleonic -generals. It is not sufficient to lay down the general -thesis that Wellington found himself opposed by troops -who invariably worked in column, and that he beat those -troops by the simple expedient of meeting them, front to -front, with other troops who as invariably fought in the -two-deep battle line. The statement is true in a general -way, but needs explanation and modification.</p> - -<p>The use of infantry in line was, of course, no invention -of Wellington’s, nor is it a universal panacea for all crises -of war. During the eighteenth century, from Marlborough -to Frederic the Great, all European infantry was normally -fighting in line, three or four deep, and looking for success -in battle to the rapidity and accuracy of its fire, not to the -impetus of advances in heavy masses such as had been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">62</span> -practised by the pikemen of the sixteenth or seventeenth -century, and were to be introduced again by the French -generals of the Revolutionary period. Everyone knows -how the victories of Frederic the Great were in part to be -attributed to the careful fire-drill of his infantry, who, with -their iron ramrods and rapid manual exercise, used to put -in a far larger and more effective discharge of musket-balls -per minute than their adversaries. But both parties were -as a rule fighting in three-deep line, Austrians no less than -Prussians. Armies had a stereotyped array, with infantry -battalions deployed in long lines in the centre, and heavy -masses of cavalry covering the wings. A glance at the -battle-plans of the War of the Austrian Succession, or of -the Seven Years’ War, shows a marvellous similarity in the -general tactical arrangements of the rival hosts, and front-to-front -collisions of long parallel lines were quite common, -though commanders of genius had their own ways of varying -the tactics of the day. Frederic the Great’s famous -“oblique order,” or advance in <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">échelon</i>, with the strong -striking-wing brought forward, and the weaker “containing-wing” -held back and refused, is sufficiently well known. -Occasionally he was able to vary it, as at Rossbach and -Leuthen, and to throw the greater part of his troops across -the enemy’s flank at right angles, so as to roll him up in -detail. But these were “uncovenanted mercies” obtained -owing to the abnormal sloth or unskilfulness of the opposing -general. Torgau needs a special word of mention, as -Frederic’s only battle fought of choice in a thoroughly -irregular formation.</p> - -<p>There were one or two cases in the old eighteenth-century -wars of engagements won by the piercing of a -hostile centre, such as Marshal Saxe’s victory of Roucoux -(1746), and we may find, in other operations of that great -general, instances of the use of deep masses, battalion deployed -behind battalion, for the attack of a chosen section -of the hostile position, and others where a line of deployed -infantry was flanked or supported by units practically in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">63</span> -column. But this was exceptional—as exceptional as the -somewhat similar formation of Cumberland’s mass of British -and Hanoverian infantry at Fontenoy, which, though often -described as a column, had originally consisted of three -successive lines of deployed battalions, which were ultimately -constricted into a mass by lateral pressure. Some of Marshal -Broglie’s and Ferdinand of Brunswick’s fights during -the Seven Years’ War were also fought in a looser order of -battle than was normal.</p> - -<p>Normally the tactics of the eighteenth century were -directed to the smashing up of one of the enemy’s wings, -either by outflanking it, or by assailing it with very superior -forces, while the rest of the enemy’s army was “contained” -by equal or inferior numbers, according as the assailant -had more or less troops than his enemy. The decisive blow -was very frequently delivered by a superior force of cavalry -concentrated upon the striking wing, which commenced -the action by breaking down the inferior hostile cavalry, -and then turned in upon the flank of the infantry of the -wing which it had assailed. Such a type of battle may -sometimes be found much later, even in the Peninsular War, -where Ocaña was a perfect example of it.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Frederic II. and Marshal Saxe</div> - -<p>Speaking roughly, however, the period of set battles -fought by enemies advancing against each other in more -or less parallel lines ended with the outbreak of the war of -the French Revolution. There had been a fierce controversy -in France from 1775 to 1791 between the advocates of the -linear, or Frederician, battle-order—headed by General -Guibert, and the officers who wished to introduce a deeper -formation, which they claimed to have learnt from the -instructions of Marshal Saxe—of whom the chief was General -Menil-Durand. The former school had triumphed just before -the war began, and the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Réglement d’Infanterie</i> of 1791 -accepted all their views. It was on this drill-book that the -French infantry stood to fight in the following year, when -the war on the Rhine and in Belgium began.<a id="FNanchor_65" href="#Footnote_65" class="fnanchor">65</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">64</span> -But the attempt of the first generals of Revolutionary -France to fight on the old linear system was a failure. -The troops of the Republic had been demoralized by the -removal or desertion of the greater proportion of their -commissioned officers, and their <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">cadres</i> had been hastily -filled with half-trained recruits. At the same time hundreds -of new units, the battalions of volunteers, had been formed -on no old <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">cadre</i> at all, but, with officers and men alike little -better than untrained civilians, took the field along with -the reorganized remains of the old royal army. It is hardly -necessary to remark, that these raw armies suffered a series -of disgraceful defeats at the hands of the Austrian and -other allied troops in 1792–93. They were beaten both in -tactics, in manœuvring, and in fire-discipline by the well-drilled -veteran battalions to which they were opposed.</p> - -<p>The French Republic, when it came under the control -of the Jacobins, tried to set matters right by accusing its -generals of treason, and arrested and guillotined a considerable -proportion of the unfortunate commanders-in-chief to -whom its armies had been entrusted. But neither this -heroic device, nor the sending to the armies of the well -known “representatives <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">en mission</i>” from the National -Assembly, who were to stimulate the energy of the generals, -had satisfactory results. As the representatives were -generally as ignorant of military affairs as they were self-important -and autocratic, they did no more than confuse -and harass the unhappy generals on whom they were -inflicted.</p> - -<p>One thing, however, the Jacobin government did accomplish: -it pushed into the field reinforcements in such -myriads that the armies of the allies were hopelessly outnumbered -on every frontier. The first successes of the -Republican armies in the North were won by brute force, -by heaping double and triple numbers upon the enemy. -And the new tactics of the Revolutionary leaders were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">65</span> -evolved from a consciousness of superiority in this respect, -a determination to swamp troops that manœuvred better -than their own, by hurling preponderant masses upon them, -regardless of the losses that must necessarily be suffered. -For they had inexhaustible reserves behind them, from the -newly-decreed levies <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">en masse</i>, while the bases of the allies -were far off, and their trained men, when destroyed, could -only be replaced slowly and with difficulty.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Tactics of the French Revolution</div> - -<p>When the generals of the Revolution threw away the old -linear tactics learned in the school of Frederic the Great, -as inapplicable to troops that could not manœuvre with -the same speed and accuracy as their enemies, the improvised -system that succeeded was a brutal and wasteful -one, but had the merit of allowing them to utilize their -superiority of numbers. It is possible that those of them -who reasoned at all upon the topic—and reasoning was not -easy in that strenuous time, when a commander’s head sat -lightly on his shoulders—saw that they were in a manner -utilizing the idea that had been tried in a tentative way -by Maurice de Saxe, and by one or two other generals of -the old wars—the idea that for collision in long line on a -parallel front, partial attacks in heavy masses on designated -points might be substituted. But it is probable that there -was more of improvisation than of deliberate tactical theory -in the manœuvres of even the best of them.</p> - -<p>The usual method was to throw at the hostile front a -very thick skirmishing line, which sheathed and concealed -a mass of heavy columns, concentrated upon one or two -critical points of the field. The idea was that the front line -of <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tirailleurs</i> would so engage the enemy, and keep him -occupied all along his front, that at the crucial section of -the combat the supporting columns would get up to striking -distance with practically no loss, and could be hurled, -while still intact, upon those points of the hostile array which -it was intended to pierce; they would go through by their -mere impetus and weight, since they were only exposed to -fire for a few minutes, and could endure the loss suffered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">66</span> -in that time without losing their <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">élan</i> or their pace. The -essential part of the system was the enormously thick and -powerful skirmishing line: whole battalions were dispersed -in chains of <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tirailleurs</i>, who frankly abandoned any attempt -at ordered movement, took refuge behind cover of all -sorts, and were so numerous that they could always drive -in the weak skirmishing line of the enemy, and get closely -engaged with his whole front. The orderly battalion-volleys -of the Austrian, or other allied troops opposed to -them, did comparatively little harm to these swarms, who -were taking cover as much as possible, and presented no -closed body or solid mark for the musketry fire poured -upon them. It looks as if the proper antidote against -such a swarm-attack would have been local and partial -cavalry charges, by squadrons judiciously inserted in the -hostile line, for nothing could have been more vulnerable -to a sudden cavalry onslaught than a disorderly chain of -light troops. On many occasions in the campaigns of -1792–93 the French infantry had shown itself very helpless -against horsemen who pushed their charge home, not only -in cases where it was caught unprepared, but even when -it had succeeded in forming square with more or less promptitude.<a id="FNanchor_66" href="#Footnote_66" class="fnanchor">66</a> -But this particular remedy against the swarm-attack -does not seem to have been duly employed, and -indeed many parts of Flanders are so cut up by small -enclosures, that the use of cavalry as a universal panacea -might often have proved impossible.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Tactics of the French Column</div> - -<p>The masses which supported the thick lines of <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tirailleurs</i> -were formed either in columns of companies or columns of -“divisions,” <i>i.e.</i> double companies.<a id="FNanchor_67" href="#Footnote_67" class="fnanchor">67</a> In the former case -the eight companies, each three deep, were drawn up behind -each other. In the latter the front was formed by a -“division,” and the depth was only twelve men. In either<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">67</span> -case none but the two front ranks could use their firearms -properly, and the rest were useless save for the impetus -that they gave the rolling mass. But such a column, when -properly sheathed by the skirmishing line till the last -moment, generally came with a very effective rush against -the allied line opposed to it, which would have been already -engaged with the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tirailleurs</i> for some time, and had probably -been much depleted by their fire. It is equally -clear that, without its protective sheath of skirmishers, -such a heavy column would have been a very clumsy -instrument of war, since it combined the minimum of -shooting power with the maximum of vulnerability. But -when so shielded, the columns which attacked in masses at -a decisive spot, leaving the rest of the hostile line “contained” -by an adequate force, had a fair chance of penetrating, -though the process of penetration might during the -last two or three minutes be very costly to the troops -forming the head of the column.</p> - -<p>The best early summary of this change in French tactics -which I know occurs in an anonymous English pamphlet -published in 1802, which puts the matter in a nutshell. -“The French army was composed of troops of the line -without order, and of raw and undisciplined volunteers. -They experienced defeats in the beginning, but in the -meantime war was forming both officers and soldiers. In an -open country they took to forming their armies in columns -instead of lines, which they could not preserve without -difficulty. They reduced battles to attacks on certain -points, where brigade succeeded brigade, and fresh troops -supplied the places of those who were driven back, till they -were enabled to force the post, and make the enemy give -way. They were fully aware that they could not give -battle in regular order, and sought to reduce engagements -to important affairs of posts: this plan has succeeded. -They look upon losses as nothing, provided they attain -their end; they set little store by their men, because they -have the certainty of being able to replace them, and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">68</span> -customary superiority of their numbers affords them an -advantage which can only be counterbalanced by great -skill, conduct, and activity.”<a id="FNanchor_68" href="#Footnote_68" class="fnanchor">68</a></p> - -<p>After 1794, when the Republican armies had won their -first series of great successes, and had driven their enemies -behind their own frontiers, there is a distinct change in -the tactical conceptions of the French. The troops had improved -immensely in morale and self-confidence: a new race -of generals had appeared, who were neither obsessed by -reminiscences of the system of Frederic the Great, like some -of their predecessors, nor spurred to blind violence and the -brutal expenditure of vast numbers of men like certain others. -The new generals modified the gross and unscientific methods -of the Jacobin armies of 1793–94, which had won victory -indeed, but only by the force of numbers and with reckless -loss of life. There remained as a permanent lesson, however, -from the earlier campaigns two principles—the -avoidance of dispersion and extension, by which armies -“cover everything and protect nothing,” and the necessity -of striking at crucial points rather than delivering “linear” -battles, fought out at equal intensity along the whole front. -In general French tactics became very supple, the units -manœuvring with a freedom which had been unknown to -earlier generations. The system of parting an army into -divisions, now introduced as a regular organization,<a id="FNanchor_69" href="#Footnote_69" class="fnanchor">69</a> gave -to the whole army a power of independent movement -unknown in the days when a line of battle was considered -a rigid thing, formed of brigades ranged elbow to elbow, -none of which ought to move without the direct orders of -the general-in-chief. A front might be composed of separate -divisions coming on the field by different roads, and each -adopting its own formation, the only necessity being that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">69</span> -there should be no great gaps left between them. As a -matter of fact this last necessary precaution was by no -means always observed, and there are cases in the middle, -and even the later, years of the Revolutionary War, in which -French generals brought their armies upon the field in such -disconnected bodies, and with such want of co-operation -and good timing, that they were deservedly defeated in -detail.<a id="FNanchor_70" href="#Footnote_70" class="fnanchor">70</a> Bonaparte himself is liable to this charge for his -order of attack at Marengo, where he committed himself -to a general action before the column of Desaix was near -enough to the field, and as nearly as possible suffered a -crushing reverse for the want of a mass of troops whose -action was absolutely necessary to him. Hoche, Jourdan, -and Moreau (the last especially), all committed similar -mistakes from time to time. But these errors were at least -better than an adhesion to the stereotyped tactics of the -older generation, where formal set orders of battle had -been thought absolutely necessary.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Disadvantages of the Column</div> - -<p>As a rule we find the French operating in the later years -of the Republic with methods very different from those of -1793, with skill and swiftness, no longer with the mere brute -force of numerical superiority, winning by brilliant -manœuvring rather than by mere bludgeon work. Yet, -oddly enough, there was no formal revision of official -tactics; the <cite xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Reglement d’Infanterie</cite> which had been drawn -up in 1791, whose base was the old three-deep line of -Frederic the Great, had never been disowned, even when -it was for the most part disregarded, in the period when -swarm-attacks of <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tirailleurs</i>, supported by monstrous heavy -columns, had become, perforce, the practical method of the -French armies. When that unsatisfactory time passed by, -the same old drill-book continued to be used, and was no -longer so remote from actual practice as it had been. For<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">70</span> -the use of the deployed battalion began to come up again, -as the handiness of the troops increased, and their self-reliance -was restored. Only the early Revolutionary War -had left two marks upon French tactics—for hard and -heavy work, such as the forcing of passes, or bridges, or -defiles, or the breaking of a crucial point in the enemy’s line, -the deep column remained habitually employed: while the -old idea of the orderly continuous line of battle was gone -for ever, or almost gone, for (oddly enough) in Napoleon’s -last and least lucky fight, Waterloo, the order of the -imperial host was more like the trim and symmetrical array -of a Frederician army than any French line of battle that -had been seen for many a year. Certainly it would have -pleased the eye of the Prussian king much better than the -apparently irregular, though carefully thought out, plans -of battle on which Jena or Wagram, Borodino or Bautzen -were won.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The “Ordre Mixte”</div> - -<p>It would be doing injustice to Napoleon to represent -him as a general whose main tactical method rested solely -on the employment of massive columns for the critical -operation on each battlefield. He was quite aware that -infantry ought to operate by its fire, and that every man -in the rear ranks is a musket wasted. If the Emperor had -any favourite formation it was the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre mixte</i>, recommended -by Guibert far back before his own day, in which a certain -combination of the advantages of line and column was -obtained, by drawing up the brigade or regiment with -alternate battalions in line three-deep and in column. This -formation gave a fair amount of frontal fire from the -alternate deployed battalions, while the columns dispersed -among them gave solidity, and immunity from a flank -attack by cavalry, which might otherwise roll up the line. -If, for example, a regiment of three battalions of 900 men -each were drawn up in the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre mixte</i>, with one deployed -battalion flanked by two battalions in column, it had -about 730 men in the firing line, while if arranged in three -columns, it would only have had about 200 able to use their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">71</span> -muskets freely. Still, at the best, this formation was -heavy, since all the serried back-ranks of the flanking -battalions had no power to join in the fusillade. For -simple fire-effect it was as inferior to the line as it was -superior to the mere column.</p> - -<p>Napoleon, however, was certainly fond of it. From -the crossing of the Tagliamento (1797), when he is first -recorded to have used it, he made very frequent employment -of it. In a dispatch to Soult, sent him just before -Austerlitz, he directed him to use it “<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">autant que faire -se pourra</i>.” It is curious, however, to note that the -marshal, less than a week after, having to strike the -decisive blow in that battle, did not, after all, use the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre -mixte</i>, but fought in lines of battalions in “columns of -divisions,” as he particularly mentions in his report to -the Emperor.<a id="FNanchor_71" href="#Footnote_71" class="fnanchor">71</a></p> - -<p>But the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre mixte</i> was certainly employed again and -again, not only in those parts of the battle where Napoleon -was simply “containing” his enemy, and where he was -merely keeping up the fight and pinning the adversary to -his position, but also on the crucial points, where he was -endeavouring to deal his main blow. We have notes to -the effect that Lannes’ Corps at Jena, Augereau’s at Eylau, -and Victor’s at Friedland, which were all “striking forces,” -not “containing forces,” used this formation. Its supposed -solidity did not always save it from disaster, as was seen -in the second of the cases quoted above, where Augereau’s -whole corps, despite of its battalions in column, was ridden -down by a flank attack of Russian cavalry, charging covered -by a snowstorm.</p> - -<p>In spite, however, of Napoleon’s theoretical preference -for the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre mixte</i>, and his knowledge that the column was -a costly formation to employ against an enemy whose fire -was not subdued, it is certain that he used it frequently, -not only for the forcing of bridges or defiles (as at Arcola<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">72</span> -and Ebersberg<a id="FNanchor_72" href="#Footnote_72" class="fnanchor">72</a>), but for giving the final blow at a point -where he was determined to break through, and where the -enemy was holding on with tiresome persistence. At -Wagram the flank-guards of Macdonald’s conquering -advance were formed by 13 battalions in solid column, one -behind the other, though its front consisted of eight deployed -battalions. Friant’s division on the right wing also -attacked with three regiments formed “<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">en colonne serrée par -bataillons</i>.” At Friedland, Ney’s right division (Marchand) -came to the front in a single file of ten battalions one behind -the other, and never got deployed, but attacked in mass -and was checked. In 1812 and 1813 advance in heavy -masses was usual—whole regiments formed in “column of -divisions,” battalion behind battalion,<a id="FNanchor_73" href="#Footnote_73" class="fnanchor">73</a> with only 200 yards’ -distance between regiment and regiment.</p> - -<p>Napoleon was quite aware of the disadvantages of such -formations, “même en plaine,” he observed in a celebrated -interview with Foy, “les colonnes n’enfoncent les lignes -qu’autant qu’elles sont appuyées par le feu d’une artillerie -très supérieure, qui prépare l’attaque.”<a id="FNanchor_74" href="#Footnote_74" class="fnanchor">74</a> And his advances -in column were habitually prepared by a crushing artillery -fire on the point which he was about to assail, a fire which -he himself, as an old artillery officer, knew how to direct -with the greatest accuracy and efficiency. It seems that -he relied much more on such preparation by concentrated -batteries for the shielding of his columns, than on sheathing -them by a thick skirmishing line, the old device of the -generals of the Republic. An enemy’s firing line might be -occupied and demoralized by shot and shell, as well as by -a screen of skirmishers. Jena, indeed, seems to be about -the only one of his battles in which a hostile line was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">73</span> -masked and depleted by a heavy <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tirailleur</i> attack, before -the columns in support charged and routed it. Often -the light infantry seems to have been practically non-existent, -and it was artillery and formed battalions alone -which fought out the engagement. French generals in the -imperial campaigns appear habitually to have used for the -skirmishing line no more than the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Voltigeur</i> company of -each battalion,<a id="FNanchor_75" href="#Footnote_75" class="fnanchor">75</a> a force making one-ninth of the whole unit -only, till the number of companies was cut down in 1808 -from nine to six, when the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Voltigeurs</i> became one-sixth of -the total. We are very far, by 1805 or 1809, from the day -of the great “swarm-attacks” of the early Republic.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Tactics of Napoleon’s Generals</div> - -<p>It was the tactics of the Empire, not those of the Republic, -which Wellington had to face, when he took command of -the allied army in the Peninsula in 1809. He had to take -into consideration an enemy whose methods were essentially -offensive, whose order of infantry fighting was at the best—in -the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre mixte</i>—rather heavy, and in many cases, -when the column of the battalion or the regiment was used, -exceptionally gross and crowded. He knew that the enemy -would have a far more numerous cavalry than was at his -own disposition, and that it would be used with reckless -boldness—the cavalry stroke in the Napoleonic battle -accompanied, if it did not precede, the infantry stroke. -Moreover, the French army would have a very powerful -and effective artillery, trained to prepare the way for -infantry attacks by the greatest artillerist in the world. -His own proportion of guns to infantry was ridiculously -low: there was not even one battery per division in 1809.</p> - -<p>What was there to oppose to this dangerous enemy in -the way of tactical efficiency? Roughly speaking we may -say that the one point of superiority on which Wellesley -counted, and counted rightly, was the superiority of the -English formation for infantry in the two-deep line to -the heavier order of the enemy’s battalions. For this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">74</span> -formation he was, of course, not responsible himself: he -took it over as an accepted thing, and thought that he -knew how to turn it to the best account.</p> - -<p>The effects of the French War on British tactics had -been notable and interesting. The first reflections published -on the new type of war on this side of the Channel -seem to have been mainly inspired by the experience of -the Duke of York’s army in 1793–94, when the thick -chains of <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tirailleurs</i>, which formed the protective screen, or -first line, of the Republican armies, had done so much -damage to troops which fought them in the old three-deep -order, adopted from Frederic the Great, without any -sufficient counter-provision of skirmishers. We find early -in the war complaints that the British forces had no adequate -proportion of light troops—that the one light company per -battalion, normally used, was wholly unable to prevent the -French <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tirailleur</i> swarm from pressing up to the main line, -and doing it much harm before the real attack was delivered. -Two remedies were proposed—the first was that the proportion -of light companies in a battalion should be increased -from one to two,<a id="FNanchor_76" href="#Footnote_76" class="fnanchor">76</a> or that in each regiment a certain number -of men should be selected for good marksmanship, and -taught light infantry drill, while still remaining attached -to their companies. Of these proposals the first was never -tried: the second was actually practised by certain colonels, -who trained fifteen or twenty men per company as -skirmishers: they were called “flankers,” and were to go -out along with the light company. The only British battle -where I have found them specially mentioned is Maida, -where their mention illustrates the danger of the system. -Generals wanting more light troops habitually purloined -the light companies of regiments to make “light battalions”; -but not only did they do this, but they sometimes even -stole the “flankers” also from the centre companies.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">75</span> -Stuart had at Maida not only the light companies, but also -the “flankers” of regiments left behind in Sicily, which -had therefore been deprived of every marksman that they -possessed—an execrable device. The system, however, was -only tentative; it soon disappeared; Wellington never -skimmed the centre companies of their good shots, though -he did occasionally create a light battalion of light companies—even -this was exceptional.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">British use of Light Troops</div> - -<p>But there was a second alternative course open to the -British: instead of developing more skirmishers in each -battalion, they might create new light-infantry corps, or -turn whole units of the line into light troops. For the -former there was good precedent: in the War of the -American Revolution the British generals had of necessity -embodied corps of riflemen, to oppose to the deadly marksmen -from the backwoods who formed the most efficient -part of the American armies. Such were Simcoe’s Rangers, -and the dismounted part of Tarleton’s famous Legion—whose -remainder consisted of veritable mounted infantry—the -first of their sort in the British army, since dragoons -had forgotten their old trade and become cavalry of the -line. But all the Rangers, etc., had been disbanded in -1783, and their use seems to have been forgotten before the -French War began; the system had to begin again <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">de novo</i>. -It was not till 1798 that the first British rifle battalion -was created, to wit the 5th Battalion of the 60th Regiment, -or Royal Americans, which was formed as a Jäger unit out -of the remains of many defunct foreign light corps in British -pay: it remained mainly German in composition even -during the Peninsular War. This was the first green-coated -battalion; the second was Coote Manningham’s -“Experimental Rifle Corps,” formed in January, 1800, -and finally taken into the service after some vicissitudes, -as the 95th—a name famous in Peninsular annals, though -now almost obliterated by its new title of the “Rifle -Brigade.” The regiment was enlarged to three battalions -before it came into Wellington’s hands. Later on, though<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">76</span> -the number of rifle corps was not increased, yet an addition -was made to the light troops of the British army by turning -certain picked battalions into light infantry. They were -armed with a special musket of light weight, not with a -rifle, and all the companies equally were instructed in -skirmishing work. The first corps so treated was the 90th -or Perthshire Light Infantry, which received the title in -1794. The precedent was not, however, acted on again -till in 1803, the 43rd and 52nd, the famous regiments of the -Peninsular Light Division, were honoured with the same -designation. The last additions during the period of the -Napoleonic wars were the 68th and 85th in 1808, and the -51st and 71st in 1809. Most of these corps had two battalions, -but, even so, the provision of light infantry was not -large for an army which had then nearly 200 battalions -embodied. There were also some foreign corps to be taken -into consideration, which stood on the British muster-rolls, -such as the two Light Battalions of the King’s German -Legion, the Brunswick Oels Jägers, and the Chasseurs -Britanniques, who all four served in the Peninsula. All -these save the last were created after 1803: but at least -during the second period of the great French War, our -armies were not practically destitute of light troops, as they -were in 1793. We shall see that this had no small importance -in Wellington’s tactical devices.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The British Two-deep Line</div> - -<p>The other lesson that might possibly have been deduced -from the campaigns of the earlier years of the great war -was the efficacy of columns for striking at the critical -points of an enemy’s line. The continental enemies of -France were affected by what they had seen of this sort of -success, and often copied the formation of their adversaries. -But it is notable that the old and wholesome prejudice of -the British in favour of the line was in no way disturbed -by what had happened of late. The idea that the column -was a clumsy and expensive formation was not shaken, -and the theory that infantry ought to win by the rapidity -and accuracy of its shooting, and that every musket not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">77</span> -in the firing-line was wasted, continued to prevail. The -reply of the British to the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre mixte</i> was to reduce the -depth of the deployed battalion from three ranks to two, -because it had been discovered that the fire of the third -rank was difficult, dangerous to those in front, and practically -ineffective. Sir David Dundas’s drill-book of 1788 -with its Prussian three ranks, which had been the official -guide of the British infantry of late, was not formally -cancelled at first, but it was practically disregarded, and the -army went back to the two-rank array, which it had -habitually used in the American War, and had abandoned -with regret. Apparently the Duke of York did not altogether -approve this change: he at least once issued a -General Order, to remind colonels that the formation in -three ranks was still officially recognized and ought not to -be forgotten. But the permission given by an order in -1801, that inspecting officers might allow regiments to -appear “even at reviews” in the two ranks, probably -marked the practical end of the Prussian system.<a id="FNanchor_77" href="#Footnote_77" class="fnanchor">77</a> It had -certainly been disused by many officers long before that -date, and it is certain that in Abercrombie’s Egyptian -campaign the double instead of the triple rank was in general -use.<a id="FNanchor_78" href="#Footnote_78" class="fnanchor">78</a> British military opinion had decided that fire was -everything, and that the correct answer to the French -columnar attack was to put more men into the firing -line.</p> - -<p>A conclusive proof of the efficacy of the double when -opposed to the triple rank was very clearly given at the -half-forgotten Calabrian battle of Maida, three years after -the commencement of the second half of the great French -War. At this fight the French General Reynier had deployed -the whole, or the greater part, of his battalions, who<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">78</span> -were not as usual fighting either in <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre mixte</i> or in battalion -column. The result was very decisive—5000 British infantry -in the thinner formation received the attack of 6000 French -in the heavier, and inflicted on them, purely by superior -fire-efficiency, one of the most crushing defeats on a small -scale that was ever seen, disabling or taking 2000 men, -with a total loss to themselves of only 320.<a id="FNanchor_79" href="#Footnote_79" class="fnanchor">79</a> It is worth -while remembering that some of the officers who were -afterwards to be Wellington’s trusted lieutenants were -present at Maida, including Cole, Kempt, Oswald, and -Colborne.<a href="#Footnote_79" class="fnanchor">79</a> This was about the only instance that I know -where English and French came into action both deployed, -and on a more or less parallel front. Usually it was a case -of “column against line.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington’s System</div> - -<p>Sir Arthur Wellesley had been nine years absent in -India before he returned to England in 1805, so that he -had to learn the difference between the Republican and the -Imperial armies by new experience. The problem had -long been interesting him. Before he left Calcutta he is -said to have remarked to his confidants that the French -were sweeping everything before them in Europe by the -use of column formations, but that he was convinced that -the column could, and would, be beaten by the line. What -he heard after his return to England evidently confirmed -him in this opinion. A conversation which he had with -Croker, just before he set sail on the expedition which was -to end at Vimeiro, chances to have been preserved in the -latter’s papers, under the date, June 14, 1808. Sitting -silent, lost in reverie for a long time, he was asked by Croker -the subject of his thoughts. “To say the truth,” he replied, -“I am thinking of the French I am going to fight. I have -not seen them since the campaigns in Flanders [1793–94]<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">79</span> -when they were capital soldiers, and a dozen years of -victory under Bonaparte must have made them better still. -’Tis enough to make one thoughtful. But though they -may overwhelm me, I don’t think that they will outmanœuvre -me. First, because I am not afraid of them, -as every one else seems to be, and secondly, because (if all -I hear about their system is true) I think it a false one -against steady troops. I suspect all the continental armies -are half-beaten before the battle begins. I at least will -not be frightened beforehand.”</p> - -<p>Wellesley went out to Portugal, there to try what could -be done with steady troops against the “French system.” -But it would be to convey a false impression of his meaning -if we were to state that he simply went out to beat column -with line—though the essential fact is sufficiently true. -He went out to try his own conception of the proper way -to use the line formation, which had its peculiarities and -its limitations. The chief of these were <span class="locked">that—</span></p> - -<p>(1) The line must not be exposed before the moment -of actual conflict: <i>i.e.</i> it must be kept under cover as much -as possible.</p> - -<p>(2) That till the critical moment it must be screened -by a line of skirmishers impenetrable to the enemy’s -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tirailleurs.</i></p> - -<p>(3) That it must be properly covered on its flanks, -either by the nature of the ground, or by cavalry and -artillery.</p> - -<p>When we investigate all his earlier pitched battles, we -shall see that each of these three requisites was as far as -possible secured.</p> - -<p>(1) It was necessary for success that the line should be -kept concealed from the enemy’s distant fire of artillery -and infantry as long as possible. Hence we find that one -of the most marked features of Wellesley’s many defensive -battles was that he took up, whenever it was feasible, a -position which would mask his main line, and show nothing -to the enemy but his skirmishers and possibly his artillery,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">80</span> -for the latter having to operate before the infantry fighting -began, and being obliged to take up positions which would -command the ground over which the enemy must advance, -were often visible from the first. At Vimeiro, Wellesley -so concealed his army that Junot, thinking to turn his left -flank, found his turning column itself outflanked by troops -moved under cover behind a skyline. At Bussaco, Masséna, -no mean general, mistook Wellington’s centre for his extreme -right, and found his attacking columns<a id="FNanchor_80" href="#Footnote_80" class="fnanchor">80</a> well outflanked -when the attack had been pressed to its issue. At Salamanca -it was much the same; the main part of the British line -was well concealed behind a low ridge of hills, while -Pakenham’s division and its attendant cavalry, the force -which executed the great stroke, were concealed in a wooded -tract, far outside the French marching column that vainly -thought to get round the allied right wing. At Waterloo, -the clearest case of all, the whole of Wellington’s infantry -of the front line was so far drawn back from the edge of -the slope that it was invisible, till the enemy had climbed -to the brow of the plateau on which it was arrayed. Only -the artillery, the skirmishing line, and the troops in the -outlying posts of Hougoumont and La Haye Sainte could -be made out by Napoleon’s eye. Talavera, as I shall -mention below, is the only exception to this general rule in -the Duke’s defensive battles.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Advantages of Cover</div> - -<p>Wellington’s ideal position was a rising ground with a -long <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">glacis</i> of slope in front, and a plateau or a dip behind -it. The infantry was drawn back from the skyline, and -placed behind the crest, if the hill were saddle-backed, or -some hundreds of yards away from the edge, if it were -flat-topped. There they stood or lay till they were wanted, -secure from artillery fire: they moved forward to their -actual fighting ground only when the fire-combat of -infantry was to begin. Every one will remember Wellington’s -caustic comment on the Prussian order of battle at -Ligny, where Blücher had drawn out his army in a chequered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">81</span> -array all along the declivity of a descending slope. “Damnably -mauled these fellows will be—every man visible to -the enemy.”<a id="FNanchor_81" href="#Footnote_81" class="fnanchor">81</a> Or in more solemn phrase, as he afterwards -consigned it to paper: “I told the Prussian officers, in -the presence of Colonel Hardinge, that according to my -judgment, the exposure of the advanced columns, and -indeed of the army, to cannonade, standing as they did -displayed to the aim of the enemy’s fire, was not prudent.”<a id="FNanchor_82" href="#Footnote_82" class="fnanchor">82</a></p> - -<p>By the end of the Peninsular War, as I have already -had occasion to observe, it had become so well known to -the French that Wellington’s army, ready for a battle, -would be under cover, that he was able, as at Fuente -Guinaldo in 1811, and at Sorauren in 1813, to play off on -them the trick of offering to fight in a half-manned position, -because he knew that they would take it for granted that -the ground invisible to them was held by an adequate -force. There is an interesting testimony to the same -effect in the Waterloo campaign. On the morning before -the battle of Quatre Bras began, General Reille, a veteran -of the Spanish war, remained halted for some time before -a position held by nothing but a single Dutch-Belgian -division, because (as he expressed it), “Ce pourrait bien -être une bataille d’Espagne—les troupes Anglaises se -montreraient quand il en serait temps.”<a id="FNanchor_83" href="#Footnote_83" class="fnanchor">83</a> This was the -lesson taught by many years of Peninsular experience—but -on this occasion it chanced to be singularly ill applied—since -a vigorous push would have shown Reille that there -were as yet no red-coats concealed behind the trees of the -Bois de Bossu.</p> - -<p>It was only when absolute necessity compelled, owing -to there being no cover available in some parts of his chosen -position, that Wellington very occasionally left troops in -his battle-front visible to the enemy, and exposed to artillery<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">82</span> -fire from a distance. The best known instance of this -occurred with his centre brigades at Talavera, who were -unmasked perforce, because between the strong hill which -protected his left, and the olive groves which covered his -right, there were many hundred yards of open ground, -without any serviceable dips or undulations to conceal the -line. And this was almost the only battle in which we find -record of his troops having suffered heavily by artillery -fire before the clash of infantry fighting began.<a id="FNanchor_84" href="#Footnote_84" class="fnanchor">84</a></p> - -<p>(2) The second postulate of Wellington’s system was, -as I have remarked above, that the infantry of his battle-line -must be covered by such a powerful screen of skirmishers, -that the enemy’s advanced line of <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tirailleurs</i> should never -be able to get near enough to it to cause any real molestation, -and that it should not be seriously engaged before -the French supporting columns came up to deliver the -main attack. His old experience in Flanders in 1794 had -taught him that the line cannot contend at advantage with -a swarm of light troops, who yield when charged, but -return the moment that the charge has stopped and the -line has drawn back to its original position. There were -evil memories of this sort not only from Flanders, but from -the Egyptian Expedition of 1801, when Abercrombie’s less -engaged brigades suffered severely at the battle of Alexandria -from the incessant fire of skirmishers at long range, -to whom no proper opposition was made.<a id="FNanchor_85" href="#Footnote_85" class="fnanchor">85</a></p> - -<p>The device which Wellesley practised was to make sure -that he should always have a skirmishing screen of his own, -so strong that the French <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tirailleurs</i> should never be able -to force it in and to get close to the main line. The moment -that he had assumed command in April, 1809, he set to -work to secure this <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">desideratum</i>. His first measure was to -add to every brigade in his army an extra company of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">83</span> -trained riflemen, to reinforce the three light companies of -the brigade.<a id="FNanchor_86" href="#Footnote_86" class="fnanchor">86</a> In April, 1809, he broke up the oldest rifle -battalion in the British army, the fifth of the 60th regiment, -and began to distribute a company of it to each of his -brigades, save to those of the King’s German Legion, which -were served by special rifle companies of their own.<a id="FNanchor_87" href="#Footnote_87" class="fnanchor">87</a> Thus -each of the brigades which fought at Talavera had a special -extra provision of light troops. Furthermore, when the -new Light Division was instituted on the 1st of March, 1810, -each of its two brigades was given a number of companies -of the 95th rifles: and of the other brigades formed in 1810–11 -most were provided with an extra light company by means -of taking fractions from the 95th or the newly arrived -Brunswick Oels Jägers, and those which were not, had light-infantry -corps of their own inside them. But this was -not all.<a id="FNanchor_88" href="#Footnote_88" class="fnanchor">88</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Ample Provision of Light Troops</div> - -<p>In the summer of 1810, Wellington began the system -of incorporating a Portuguese brigade of five battalions in -each British division. Of these five one was always<a id="FNanchor_89" href="#Footnote_89" class="fnanchor">89</a> a -Caçador or light battalion, specially trained for skirmishing.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">84</span> -The old Portuguese army had not included such battalions, -which were all newly raised corps, intended entirely for light -infantry work. There were originally only six of them, -but Wellington ordered a second six to be raised in 1811, -utilizing as the cadre of the 7th, 8th, 9th the old Loyal -Lusitanian Legion, which Sir Robert Wilson had formed -early in the war. As the Portuguese army contained just -twenty-four regiments of the line, in twelve brigades, the -Caçador battalion gave precisely one unit to each brigade, -save that two were incorporated in the Light Division, while -none was left with the two regiments which remained behind -in garrison at Abrantes and at Cadiz respectively.</p> - -<p>As the Caçador battalions were essentially light troops, -and used wholly for skirmishing, it resulted that when an -Anglo-Portuguese division of the normal strength of six -British and five Portuguese battalions set itself in battle -array, it sent out a skirmishing line of no less than eight -British and ten Portuguese companies, viz. one each from -the line battalions, two of British rifles, six of Caçadores, -or a total of from 1200 to 1500 men to a total strength of -5000 to 5500. This, as will be obvious, was a very powerful -protective sheath to cover the front of the division. It -was not always required—the French did not invariably -send out a skirmishing line in advance of their main attack: -but when they did, it would always be restrained and kept -off from the main front of the divisional line. If the -enemy wished to push it in, he had to bring up his formed -battalions through his <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tirailleurs</i>, and thus only could he -reach the front of battle. The French regiments, whether -formed in <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre mixte</i> or (as was more common) in column, -had to come to the front, and only so could reach the -hitherto intact British line. It may be noted that the -enemy rarely used for his skirmishing line more than the -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voltigeur</i> company of each battalion; as his divisions -averaged ten to twelve battalions<a id="FNanchor_90" href="#Footnote_90" class="fnanchor">90</a> and the unit was a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">85</span> -six-company battalion of 600 men or under, with only one -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voltigeur</i> company, a French division would send out 1000 -to 1200 skirmishers, a force appreciably less than the light -troops of a British division of approximately equal force. -Hence Wellington never seems to have been seriously -incommoded by the French skirmishers.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Advantages of the Skirmishing Screen</div> - -<p>So considerable was the British screen of light troops -that the French not unfrequently mistook it for a front -line, and speak of their column as piercing or thrusting -back the first line of their opponents, when all that they -had done was to drive in a powerful and obstinate body -of skirmishers bickering in front of the real fighting formation.<a id="FNanchor_91" href="#Footnote_91" class="fnanchor">91</a> -Invariably, we may say, they had to use their -columns to attack the two-deep line while the latter was -still intact, while their own masses had already been under -fire for some time and were no longer fresh.</p> - -<p>It will be asked, perhaps, why the marshals and generals -of Napoleon did not deploy their columns before the -moment of contact. Why do we so seldom read of even the -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre mixte</i> in use—Albuera is the only battle where we -distinctly find it mentioned? The answer to this objection -is, firstly, that they were strongly convinced that the column -was the better striking force to carry a given point, and -that they were normally attacking not the whole British -line but the particular section or sections where they intended -to break through. But, secondly, we may add that they -frequently did attempt to deploy, but always too late, -since they waited till they had driven in the British skirmishing -line, and tried to assume the thinner formation when<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">86</span> -they were already under fire and heavily engaged. It was -not always that the British noted this endeavour—so late -was it begun, so instant was its failure. But there is -evidence that it was tried by Kellermann’s grenadiers at -Vimeiro, by part at least of Leval’s division at Barrosa, by -Merle’s column at Bussaco, when it had already reached the -summit of the Serra, and was closely engaged with Picton’s -troops. At Albuera we have a good description of it from -the British side. When Myers’ fusilier brigade marched -against the flank of the 5th Corps, in the crisis of that battle, -Soult launched against them his reserve, the three regiments -of Werlé, which became at once locked in combat at very -short range with the fusiliers. “During the close action,” -writes a British officer (Blakeney of the 7th), “I saw their -officers endeavouring to deploy their columns, but all to -no purpose. For as soon as the third of a company got -out, they would immediately run back in order to be -covered by the front of their column.” The fact was, that -the effect of the fire of a British regiment far exceeded anything -that the enemy had been wont to cope with when -engaged with continental troops, and was altogether -devastating. Again and again French officers who came -under it for the first time, made the miscalculation of trying -the impossible. Nothing could be more inevitably productive -of confusion and disorder than to attempt deployment -under such a heavy fire. Wherefore many French -commanders never tried it at all, and thought it more safe -to go on to the final shock with their battalions in the usual -“column of divisions,” in which they had begun their -attack. This was little better, and quite as costly in the -end. “Really,” wrote Wellington, in a moment of unwonted -exhilaration, after the combat of Sabugal, “these attacks -in column against our lines are very contemptible.”<a id="FNanchor_92" href="#Footnote_92" class="fnanchor">92</a> -This was after he had viewed from the other bank of the -Coa, “where I could see every movement on both sides,” -the 43rd regiment repulse in succession three attacks by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">87</span> -French columns which came up against it, one after the -other.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Necessity of Flank Cover</div> - -<p>(3) We now come to the third postulate of Wellington’s -system—the two-deep fighting line must be covered on its -flanks, either by the ground, or by cavalry and artillery -support, or by infantry prolonging the front beyond the -enemy’s immediate point of action. At Talavera one of -his flanks was covered by a precipitous hill, the other by -thick olive plantations. At Bussaco both the French -attacks were hopelessly outflanked by troops posted on -high and inaccessible ground, and could only be pushed -frontally. At Fuentes de Oñoro the final fighting position -rested on a heavily occupied village at one end, and on -the ravine of the Turon river upon the other. At Salamanca -the 3rd Division, the striking-force which won the battle, -had its line covered on its outer flank by a British and -a Portuguese brigade of cavalry. At Vittoria the whole -French army was enveloped by the concentric and converging -attack of the much longer British line. At Waterloo -flank protection was secured by the advanced post of -Hougoumont and a “refused” right wing at one end of -the position: by the group of fortified farms (Papelotte, -La Haye, etc.), and a mass of cavalry at the other. Wellington, -in short, was very careful of his flanks. Only once -indeed, so far as I remember, did the French get round the -outlying end of his army and cause him trouble. This was -in the first episode of Fuentes de Oñoro, where the 7th -Division, placed some way out, as a flank-guard, suffered -some loss by being taken in rear by French cavalry which -had made a great circuit, and only escaped worse disaster -because two of its battalions, the 51st and <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Chasseurs Britanniques</i>, -had time to form front to flank, and adapt themselves -to the situation, and because a few British squadrons -sacrificed themselves in checking, so long as was possible, -the enemy’s superior horse.</p> - -<p>There was one universally remembered instance during -the war which demonstrated the terrible risk that the line<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">88</span> -might run if it were not properly protected on the flanks. -At Albuera Colborne’s brigade of the 2nd Division was -thrown into the fight with its flank absolutely bare—there -was no support within half a mile—by the recklessness of -its divisional general, William Stewart. It was caught -unprepared by two regiments of French cavalry, charging -in at an angle, almost on its rear, and three battalions were -literally cut to pieces, with a loss of 1200 men out of 1600 -present, and five colours. Wellington would never have -sent it forward without the proper support on its wings, -and it is noteworthy that, later on the same day, Cole took -the 4th Division into action on the same hill, and against -the same enemy, with perfect success, because he had -guarded one flank with a battalion in column, and the other -(the outer and more exposed one) with a battalion in square -and a brigade of cavalry.</p> - -<p>These, then, were the necessary postulates required for -the successful use of line against column, and when they -were duly borne in mind, victory was secure with any -reasonable balance in numbers. The essential fact that -lay behind the oft-observed conclusion was simply that the -two-deep line enabled a force to use every musket with -effect, while the “column of divisions” put seven-ninths -of the men forming it in a position where they could not -shoot at all, and even the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre mixte</i> praised by Napoleon -placed from seven-twelfths to two-thirds of the rank and -file in the same unhappy condition.<a id="FNanchor_93" href="#Footnote_93" class="fnanchor">93</a> But Albuera is the -only fight in the war in which there is definite proof that the -enemy fought in the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre mixte</i> with deployed battalions -and battalions in column ranged alternately in his front.<a id="FNanchor_94" href="#Footnote_94" class="fnanchor">94</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">89</span> -Usually he came on with his units all in columns of divisions, -and very frequently (as at Bussaco and in certain episodes -at Talavera) he had battalion behind battalion in each -regiment. It was a gross order of fighting, but D’Erlon -invented a worse and a more clumsy formation at Waterloo, -where he sent forward whole divisions with eight or nine -battalions deployed one behind the other, so as to produce -a front of only 200 men and a depth of twenty-four—with -only one man in twelve able to use his musket.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Superior Fire of the Line</div> - -<p>Clearly, however, the column of divisions (double companies) -was the normal French order, <i>i.e.</i> in a battalion of -600 men in six companies, we should get a front of 66 muskets -and 132 men able to fire, while 468 were in the rear ranks, -able to be shot but not to shoot. If an English battalion -of equal strength lay in front, in its two-deep line, it could -give a discharge of 600 muskets against one of 132, and -this was not all. Its front was nearly five times that of -the French battalion, so that its fire lapped round the -flanks of the advancing mass, demoralizing it because -there was no proper power to reply. Often the British line, -during the moments of fire-combat, somewhat threw -forward its wings in a shallow crescent, and blazed with -three sides of the column at once. This was done by the -43rd and 52nd at Bussaco, with great effect, against the -French brigade, that of Simon, which came up the slope -in front of them, with its leading regiment ranged three -battalions deep, in a most vulnerable array. How could it -be expected that the column would prevail? Effective -against an enemy who allowed himself to be cowed and -beaten by the sight of the formidable advancing mass, it -was helpless against steady troops, who stood their ground -and emptied their muskets, as fast as they could load, into -a mark which it was impossible to miss. This, probably,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">90</span> -is what Wellington meant when (as mentioned above) he -stated to Croker, ere ever he sailed for Portugal, that “if -all I hear about their system is true, I think it a false one -against steady troops. I suspect all the continental armies -are half-beaten before the battle begins.” That is to say, -the column might win by the terror that its massive weight -and impetus inspired; but if the enemy refused to be -terrorized, he would be able to hold his own, and to inflict -enormous losses on the crowded formation.</p> - -<p>It only remains to be said that, with the battalion in -column of divisions as unit, the French had two ways of -drawing up their attacking line. They might either draw -up the battalions of each regiment in a line of columns, or -they might place them one behind the other, making the -whole regiment into a single column. Both methods were -from time to time employed. It was not details of arrangement -like this which made the difference—the essential -weakness was the “column of divisions” which formed the -base of all the array—it was too helpless in fire-contest -against the line.</p> - -<p>The physical aspect of the contest between line and -column we have now sufficiently dealt with. What was -the moral aspect? Fortunately we can explain it with -accuracy, because one of the many thousands of French -officers who went through the Peninsular War has left us, -not personal anecdotes or confused impressions like so many -of his fellows, but a real account of the mental state of a -battalion going forward in column to attack the British -line. I make no excuse for quoting in full the paragraphs -of Bugeaud, a <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">chef de bataillon</i> in 1812—a marshal of African -fame thirty years later—because they give us exactly what -we want to know. It should be premised, however, that -Bugeaud did not serve in the Army of Portugal, nor face -Wellington’s own troops. He served in Suchet’s army, -along the Mediterranean Coast of the Peninsula, and his -personal observations must have been made at Castalla -and other combats in the East. It is to be noted also that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">91</span> -he gives no account of the clash of skirmishers which so -often took place, and describes his column as going forward -unsheathed to the main clash of battle.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Bugeaud on Column versus Line</div> - -<p>“I served seven years in the Peninsula,” he says; -“during that time we sometimes beat the English in -isolated encounters and raids [<i>e.g.</i> Ordal] which as a field -officer detached I was able to prepare and direct. But during -that long period of war, it was my sorrow to see that only -in a very small number of general actions did the British -army fail to get the better of us. We almost invariably -attacked our adversaries, without either taking into account -our own past experience, or bearing in mind that the -tactics which answered well enough when we had only -Spaniards to deal with, almost invariably failed when an -English force was in our front.</p> - -<p>“The English generally held good defensive positions, -carefully selected and usually on rising ground, behind the -crest of which they found cover for a good part of their -men. The usual obligatory cannonade would commence -the operation, then, in haste, without duly reconnoitring -the position, without ascertaining whether the ground -afforded any facilities for lateral or turning movements, -we marched straight forward, ‘taking the bull by the -horns.’<a id="FNanchor_95" href="#Footnote_95" class="fnanchor">95</a></p> - -<p>“When we got to about a thousand yards from the -English line the men would begin to get restless and excited: -they exchanged ideas with one another, their march began -to be somewhat precipitate, and was already growing a -little disorderly. Meanwhile the English, silent and impassive, -with grounded arms, loomed like a long red wall; -their aspect was imposing—it impressed novices not a little. -Soon the distance began to grow shorter: cries of ‘<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Vive -l’Empereur</i>,’ ‘<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">en avant à la baïonnette</i>,’ broke from our mass. -Some men hoisted their shakos on their muskets, the -quick-step became a run: the ranks began to be mixed up: -the men’s agitation became tumultuous, many soldiers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">92</span> -began to fire as they ran. And all the while the red English -line, still silent and motionless, even when we were only -300 yards away, seemed to take no notice of the storm -which was about to beat upon it.</p> - -<p>“The contrast was striking. More than one among us -began to reflect that the enemy’s fire, so long reserved, -would be very unpleasant when it did break forth. Our -ardour began to cool: the moral influence (irresistible in -action) of a calm which seems undisturbed as opposed to -disorder which strives to make up by noise what it lacks in -firmness, weighed heavily on our hearts.</p> - -<p>“At this moment of painful expectation the English -line would make a quarter-turn—the muskets were going -up to the ‘ready.’ An indefinable sensation nailed to the -spot many of our men, who halted and opened a wavering -fire. The enemy’s return, a volley of simultaneous precision -and deadly effect, crashed in upon us like a thunderbolt. -Decimated by it we reeled together, staggering under -the blow and trying to recover our equilibrium. Then three -formidable <em>Hurrahs</em> termined the long silence of our adversaries. -With the third they were down upon us, pressing -us into a disorderly retreat. But to our great surprise, -they did not pursue their advantage for more than some -hundred yards, and went back with calm to their former -lines, to await another attack. We rarely failed to deliver -it when our reinforcements came up—with the same want -of success and heavier losses.”<a id="FNanchor_96" href="#Footnote_96" class="fnanchor">96</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Helplessness of the Column</div> - -<p>This is the picture that we need to complete our study -of the conflict of column with line. The psychology of the -huddled mass going forward to inevitable defeat could not -be better portrayed. The only thing that is hard for us -to understand is the reason which induced capable men like -Soult, D’Erlon, or Foy to continue to use the columnar -formation all through the dark days of 1813–14, and even -in the final campaign of Waterloo. All honour must be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">93</span> -paid, however, to the rank and file who, with five years -of such experience behind them, were still steadfast and -courageous enough to put up a good fight even in their -last offensive battles in the Pyrenees, as well as in the -defensive actions of Orthez and Toulouse.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">94</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_V" class="vspace">CHAPTER V<br /> - -<span class="subhead">WELLINGTON’S TACTICS—THE CAVALRY AND ARTILLERY</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Hitherto we have been confining our outlook on Wellington’s -tactics to his use of infantry. But a few words must -be added as to his methods of handling the other two -arms—cavalry and artillery. There are fortunately one -or two <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">memoranda</i> of his own which enable us to interpret -his views on the use of these arms, which were to him mainly -auxiliary; for the epigram that he was “essentially an -infantry general” is in the main correct, though it needs -some comment and explanation. In the early part of his -Peninsular campaigning he was forced to be an “infantry -general,” since the home government kept him unreasonably -short in the matter of horsemen and guns till the -year 1811 was far spent. Moreover, the ground over which -he had to fight in 1809–10–11 must be considered.</p> - -<p>The Iberian Peninsula may from the point of view of -the cavalry tactician be divided into two sets of regions, -in the one of which the mounted arm is all-important, -while in the other it may, almost without exaggeration, be -described as well-nigh negligible as an element of military -strength, being only usable on a small scale, for exploration -and observation, and not being able to be employed effectively -in mass.</p> - -<p>To the first-named class of regions, the tracts eminently -suitable for the employment of cavalry, belong the great -plateau of Central Spain, the broad arable plains of Old -Castile and Leon, from Burgos to Ciudad Rodrigo and -from Astorga to Aranda. Here, in a gently undulating<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">95</span> -upland, little enclosed, and mainly laid out in great common-fields, -cavalry has one of the suitable terrains that can be -found for it in Europe—as favourable as Champagne, or -the lowlands of Northern Germany. This is also, almost -to the same extent, the case with the loftier and less cultivated -plateau of New Castile, and with the melancholy -thinly peopled moors of La Mancha and Estremadura, -where the horseman may ride ahead for twenty or thirty -miles without meeting any serious natural obstacle, save -at long intervals the steep cleft of a ravine, dry in summer, -full of a fierce stream in winter. Nor are the great central -uplands the only tracts of Spain where cavalry finds an -admirable field for operations: the central valley of the -Ebro in Aragon, and the whole of the broad plain of -the Guadalquivir in Andalusia, are equally suited for the -employment of the mounted arm, on the largest scale. -Napoleon, therefore, was entirely justified when he attached -a very large proportion of horse to his Army of Spain, and -when he uttered his <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">dictum</i> that great portions of it must -inevitably be the possession of the general who owned the -larger and the more efficient mass of squadrons.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, there are large tracts of the Peninsula -where cavalry is almost as useless as in Switzerland or -Calabria. Such are the whole Pyrenean tract on the north, -extending from Catalonia, by Aragon and Navarre, to the -Asturian and Galician lands along the southern shore of -the Bay of Biscay. It will be remembered that, during -the Pyrenean Campaign of 1813, Wellington sent back -very nearly all his cavalry to the plain of the Ebro, while -Soult left his in the plain of the Adour. Sir John Moore’s -small but fine cavalry force was useless to him in the -Corunna retreat, when once Astorga had been passed, and -the Galician mountains entered. He sent it on before -him, with the exception of a squadron or two kept with the -rear-guard. Soult’s more numerous mounted force, in that -same campaign, was only useful in picking up Moore’s -stragglers, and keeping the British continuously on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">96</span> -march—it was brought to a dead stop every time that the -retreating army showed an infantry rear-guard, and stood -at bay in one of the innumerable Galician defiles.</p> - -<p>There is another tract of the Peninsula almost as -unsuited as the Pyrenean and Galician highlands for the -use of cavalry—and that is Portugal, where so much of -Wellington’s earlier campaigning took place. Deducting -some coast plains of comparatively small extent, all Northern -and Central Portugal is mountainous—not for the most -part mountainous on a large scale, with high summits and -broad valleys, but mountainous on a small scale with -rugged hills of 2000 or 3000 feet, between which flow deeply-sunk -torrents in narrow ravines—where roads are all uphill -and downhill and a defile occurs every few miles. It was -the character of this countryside which made Wellington’s -army of 1810–11, with its very small cavalry force—only -seven British and four or five Portuguese regiments—safe -against Masséna’s immensely preponderant number of -squadrons. All through the long retreat from Almeida to -the lines of Torres Vedras the allied army could never be -caught, turned, or molested; the cavalry on both sides was -only employed in petty rear-guard actions, in which the -small force brought the larger to a check in defiles, and -generally gave back only when the invader brought up -infantry to support his attack. For all the good that it -did him, Masséna might have left his 7000 cavalry behind -him when he entered Portugal—a few squadrons for exploration -was all that he needed. Jammed in narrow defiles, -where they were helpless, his mounted men were often -more of an incumbrance than a help to him.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, when the slopes of the Portuguese -mountains were once left behind, Wellington was forced -to be most cautious, and to restrict his action to favourable -ground (as at Talavera, and Fuentes d’Oñoro) so long as -the enemy was hopelessly superior in his number of squadrons. -It was only after 1811, when his cavalry regiments were -about doubled in numbers, that he could venture down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">97</span> -into the plains, and deliver great battles in the open like -Salamanca—the first engagement which he ever fought -in the Peninsula where his cavalry was not inferior by a -third or even a half to that of the French.</p> - -<p>Beside the Pyrenean regions and Portugal, there are -other districts of the Peninsula where the cavalry arm is -handicapped by the terrain—Catalonia for example, where -the inland is one mass of rugged valleys, the coastland of -the kingdom of Granada, and the great ganglion of mountain -lands where Aragon, Valencia, and New Castile meet. But -as these were tracts where the British army was little -engaged, I pass them over with a mention. But it must -also be remembered that each of the great upland plateaux -of Spain—Leon, New Castile, La Mancha, and Estremadura, -is separated from the others by broad mountain belts, -where the Spanish guerillero bands made their headquarters, -and rendered communication between plain and plain -difficult and perilous.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">French Cavalry Tactics</div> - -<p>In such a country of contrasts, how did the various -combatants use their mounted men during the six long -years between Vimeiro and Toulouse? What was the -relative value of the different national cavalry, and what -were its tactics for battle and for the equally important -work of exploration, and of the covering and concealing -the movements of the other arms?</p> - -<p>French cavalry tactics had, by 1808, when the war -began, developed into as definite a system as those of the -infantry. Napoleon was fond of massing his horsemen in -very large bodies, and launching them at the centre no -less than at the flank of the army opposed to him. In the -times of Marlborough and of Frederic the Great cavalry -was almost always drawn up in long lines on the wings, -and used first for the beating of the hostile containing -cavalry, and then for turning against the unprotected flank -of the enemy’s infantry in the centre. A cavalry dash at -a weak point in the middle of the hostile front was very -rare indeed, and only tried by the very few generals of first<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">98</span> -rate intelligence, who had emancipated themselves from -the old routine which prescribed the regular drawing up of -an army. Marlborough’s cavalry charge at the French -right-centre at Blenheim is almost the only first-rate -example of such a stroke in the old wars of the eighteenth -century. Frederic’s great cavalry charge at Rossbach, -which is sometimes quoted as a parallel, was after all no -more than a sudden rush of the Prussian flank-cavalry at -the exposed wing of an army which was unwisely trying to -march around the position of its adversary. But Napoleon -was the exponent of great frontal attacks of cavalry on -chosen weak spots of the enemy’s line, which had already -been well pounded by artillery or weakened in some other -way. He would use 6000, 8000, or (as at Waterloo) even -12,000 men for one of these great strokes. At Austerlitz -and Borodino these charges were made straight at the -enemy’s front: Marengo and Dresden were won by such -rushes: Eylau was only saved from falling into a disaster -by a blow of the same kind. But cavalry had to be used -at precisely the right moment, to be most skilfully led, -and to be pushed home without remorse and despite of all -losses, if it was to be successful. Even then it might be -beaten off by thoroughly cool and unshaken infantry, as -at Waterloo. It was only against exhausted, distracted, -or untrained battalions that it could count with a reasonable -certainty of success.</p> - -<p>All through the war the raw and badly-drilled Spanish -armies supplied the French squadrons with exactly this -sort of opportunities. They were always being surprised -before they had been formed by their generals in line of -battle, or caught in confusion while they were executing -some complicated manœuvre. If attacked while they were -in line or in column of march, they always fell victims to a -cavalry charge, being from want of discipline extraordinarily -slow to form square. As if this was not enough, they were -often weak enough in morale to allow themselves to be -broken even when they had time to form their squares.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">99</span> -The battles of Medellin, Ocaña, the Gebora, and Saguntum, -were good examples of the power of a comparatively small -mass of cavalry skilfully handled, over a numerous but -ill-disciplined infantry. But the little-mentioned combat -of Margalef in 1810 is perhaps the strongest example of the -kind, for there six squadrons of Suchet’s cavalry (the 13th -Cuirassiers supported by two squadrons of the 3rd Hussars) -actually rode down in succession, a whole division of some -4000 men, whom they caught while forming line of battle -from column of march. This was done, too, despite of -the fact that the Spanish infantry was accompanied by three -squadrons of cavalry (who made the usual bolt at the -commencement of the action), as well as by a half-battery -of artillery.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Successes of the French Cavalry</div> - -<p>It was of course a very different matter when the French -cavalry had to face the steady battalions of the British -army. Looking down all the record of battles and skirmishes -from 1808 down to 1814, I can only remember two -occasions when the enemy’s cavalry really achieved a notable -tactical success. Oddly enough both fell within the month -of May, 1811. At Albuera there occurred that complete -disaster to a British infantry brigade which has already -been described in the preceding chapter. The other, and -much smaller, success achieved by French cavalry over -British infantry at Fuentes de Oñoro, a few days before -the greater disaster at Albuera, has also been alluded to.<a id="FNanchor_97" href="#Footnote_97" class="fnanchor">97</a> -These two disasters were wholly exceptional; usually -the British infantry held its own, unless it was absolutely -taken by surprise, and this even when attacked frontally -by cavalry while it was deployed in the two deep line, without -forming square. If the British had their flanks covered, -they were perfectly safe, and turned back any charge with -ease.</p> - -<p>Indeed the repulse of cavalry by British troops in line, -who did not take the trouble to form square because their -flanks were covered, was not infrequent in the Peninsular<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">100</span> -War. The classic instance is that of the 5th Northumberland -Fusiliers at El Bodon in 1811, who advanced in line -firing against two French cavalry regiments and drove -them off the heights, being able to do so because they had -a squadron or two of British horse to protect them from -being turned. A very similar feat was performed by the -52nd at Sabugal in 1811: and Harvey’s Portuguese brigade -did as much at Albuera.</p> - -<p>Much more, of course, was the square impregnable. -When once safely placed in that formation, British troops -habitually not only withstood cavalry charges at a stand-still, -but made long movements over a battlefield inundated -by the hostile cavalry. At Fuentes de Oñoro the -Light Division, three British and two Portuguese squares, -retreated at leisure for <em>two miles</em> while beset by four brigades -of French cavalry, and reached the ground which they had -been ordered to take up with a total loss of one killed and -thirty-four wounded. Similarly at El Bodon the square -composed of the 5th and 77th retreated for six miles, in the -face of two cavalry brigades which could never break -into them.<a id="FNanchor_98" href="#Footnote_98" class="fnanchor">98</a></p> - -<p>Indeed it may be stated, as a rule almost without -exception, that troops in square, whether British or French, -were never broken during the Peninsular War even by -very desperate and gallant charges. One of the best -instances of this general rule was the case of the combat of -Barquilla, where two grenadier companies of the French -22nd, surprised while covering a foraging party by five -squadrons of British cavalry, got away in a level country -after having been charged successively by three squadrons -of the 1st Hussars of the German Legion, the 16th and the -14th Light Dragoons. One of these three squadron-charges, -at least (that of the 14th), had been pushed home so handsomely -that an officer and nine men fell actually among -the French front rank, and a French observer noted bayonets<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">101</span> -broken, and musket barrels deeply cut into by the sweeping -blows of the light dragoons, who yet failed entirely to -break in.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Cavalry Action against Squares</div> - -<p>There was indeed only one extraordinary case of properly -formed squares being broken during the whole war, a case -as exceptional in one way as the disaster to Colborne’s -brigade at Albuera was in the other. This was at the -combat of Garcia Hernandez, on the morning after the -battle of Salamanca, where the heavy dragoons of the -K.G.L. delivered what Foy (the French historian of -the war) called the best charge that he had ever seen. The -rear-guard of Marmont’s army had been formed of the one -division which had not been seriously engaged in the -battle, so that it could not be said to have been composed -of shaken or demoralized troops. Nevertheless, two of its -squares were actually broken by the legionary dragoons, -though drawn up without haste or hurry on a hillside -favourable for defensive action. According to Beamish’s -<cite>History of the German Legion</cite>, a work composed a few years -later from the testimony of eye-witnesses, the first square -was broken by a mortally wounded horse, carrying a dead -rider, leaping right upon the kneeling front rank of the -square, and bearing down half a dozen men by its struggles -and kicking. An officer, Captain Gleichen, spurred his -horse into the gap thus created, his men followed, a wedge -was thrust into the square, and it broke up, the large -majority of the men surrendering. The second square, -belonging to the same regiment, the 6th Léger, was a little -higher up the hillside than the first: it was a witness of -the destruction of the sister-battalion, and seems to have -been shaken by the sight: at any rate, when assailed a -few minutes later by another squadron of the German -Dragoons, it gave a rather wild though destructive volley, -and wavered at the moment of receiving the attack, bulging -in at the first charge. This was, of course, fatal. The -broken squares lost 1400 prisoners, beside some 200 killed -and wounded. The victorious dragoons paid a fairly high<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">102</span> -price for their success, losing 4 officers and 50 men killed, -and 2 officers, and 60 men wounded out of 700 present; the -extraordinary proportion of killed to wounded, 54 to 62 -marking the deadly effect of musketry at the closest possible -quarters.</p> - -<p>This (as I said before) was the exception that proved -the rule: the invulnerability of a steady square was such -a commonplace, that Foy and the other old officers of the -Army of Spain, looked with dismay upon Napoleon’s great -attempt at Waterloo to break down the long line of British -squares between La Haye Sainte and Hougoumont, by the -charges of some ten or twelve thousand cavalry massed on -a short front of less than a mile. The Emperor had not -allowed for the superior resisting power of a thoroughly -good infantry.</p> - -<p>Of fights between cavalry and cavalry, when the two -sides were present in numbers so fairly equal as to make the -struggle a fair test of their relative efficiency, there were -comparatively few in the Peninsular War. In the early -days of the war Wellington was too scantily provided with -horsemen, and could never afford to engage in a cavalry -battle on a large scale. He had only six regiments at -Talavera in 1809, only seven in the Bussaco campaign of -1810. When he divided his army for the simultaneous -campaign in Beira and in Estremadura in March, 1811, he -could only give Beresford three regiments, and keep four -for himself. Nor could the deficiency be supplied (as was -done in the artillery arm) by using Portuguese auxiliaries. -The cavalry of that nation was so weak and so badly -mounted that it is doubtful whether there were ever so -many as 2000 of them in the field at once. Many of the -twelve regiments were never mounted, and did garrison -duty as infantry throughout the war.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington and his Cavalry</div> - -<p>It was not till the summer and autumn of 1811 that -Wellington at last began to get large reinforcements of the -mounted arm from England, which more than doubled his -strength, for in the campaign of 1812 he had no less than<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">103</span> -fifteen regiments instead of seven. In the winter of 1812–13 -further reinforcements came out, and in the Vittoria campaign -he had at last a powerful cavalry equal or superior -to that of the French.<a id="FNanchor_99" href="#Footnote_99" class="fnanchor">99</a></p> - -<p>Yet even allowing for the weakness of Wellington’s -mounted strength in his earlier campaigns, we must acknowledge -that they played a comparatively small part in his -scheme of operations. Though his dragoons did good -service in keeping his front covered, and performed many -gallant exploits (we need only mention Talavera and -Fuentes de Oñoro to instance good self-sacrificing work -done), they were seldom used as part of the main striking -force that won a victory. Indeed, the charge of Le Marchant’s -heavy brigade at Salamanca is about the only -instance that can be cited of really decisive action by cavalry -in any of the Duke’s battles. There were other notable -successes to be remembered, but they were in side issues, -and often not under the chief’s own eye—as, for example, -Bock’s breaking of the squares at Garcia Hernandez on the -day after Salamanca, and Lumley’s very creditable victory -over Latour-Maubourg at Usagre on May 25, 1811.</p> - -<p>Even when Wellington had at last a large cavalry force -in 1812–14, it was seldom found massed, and I believe that -more than three brigades were never found acting together. -Such a force as six regiments was seldom seen in line and -engaged. For the use of cavalry as a screen we may -mention the combat of Venta del Pozo, during the retreat -from Burgos in 1812. This was a skirmish fought by two -brigades to cover the withdrawal of the infantry, which -had to hurry hard on the way toward Salamanca and -safety.</p> - -<p>Something, no doubt, must be allowed for the fact that -Wellington never, till the Waterloo campaign, had an -officer of proved ability in chief command of his cavalry.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">104</span> -Stapleton Cotton, who served so long in that capacity, was -not a man of mark. Lumley, who had a short but distinguished -career as a divisional commander, went home -sick in 1811, and Le Marchant, who came out from home -with a high reputation, was most unfortunately killed in -his first battle, Salamanca, where his brigade did so much -to settle the fortunes of the day. But allowing for all -this, it remains clear that Wellington made comparatively -little use of the cavalry arm—which could hardly have been -expected when we remember how effectively he had used -his horse at Assaye, quite early in his career. Possibly the -fact that he was so hopelessly outmatched in this arm in -1809–11 sunk so much into his soul, that when he got his -chance, later on, he was not ready to use it. Certainly several -cases can be cited where it was not duly used to press a completed -victory—most particularly after Vittoria and Orthez. -There is no concealing the fact that Wellington’s reluctance -to use great cavalry attacks was, at bottom, due to his -doubts as to the tactical skill of his senior officers, and the -power of his regiments to manœuvre. He divulged his -views on the subject, twelve years after the war was over, -in a letter to Lord John Russell, dated July 31, 1826. “I -considered our cavalry,” he wrote, “so inferior to the -French from want of order, that although I considered one -of our squadrons a match for two French, yet I did not -care to see four British opposed to four French, and still -more so as the numbers increased, and order (of course) -became more necessary. They could gallop, but could not -preserve their order.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Some Reckless Cavalry Charges</div> - -<p>This seems a very hard judgment, when we examine -in detail the cavalry annals of the Peninsular War. There -were cases, no doubt, where English regiments threw -away their chances by their blind fury in charging, and -either got cut up from pursuing an original advantage to -a reckless length, or at any rate missed an opportunity by -over-great dispersion or riding off the field. The earliest -case was seen at Vimeiro just after Wellington’s first<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">105</span> -landing in the Peninsula, when two squadrons of the 20th -Light Dragoons, after successfully cutting up a beaten -column of infantry, pushed on for half a mile in great disorder, -to charge Junot’s cavalry reserves, and were horribly -maltreated—losing about one man in four. An equally -irrational exploit took place at Talavera, where the 23rd -Light Dragoons, beaten off in a charge against a square -which they had been ordered to attack, rushed on beyond -it, against three successive lines of French cavalry, pierced -the first, were stopped by the second, and had to cut their -way back with a loss of 105 prisoners and 102 killed and -wounded—nearly half their strength. An equally headlong -business was the charge of the 13th Light Dragoons at -Campo Mayor on March 25, 1811, when that regiment, having -beaten in fair fight the French 26th Dragoons, and captured -eighteen siege-guns which were retreating on the road, -galloped on for more than six miles, sabring the scattered -fugitives, till they were actually brought up by the fire of -the fortress of Badajoz, on to whose very glacis they had -made their way. The captured guns, meanwhile, were -picked up by the French infantry who had been retreating -along the high-road behind their routed cavalry, and -brought off in safety—the 13th not having left a single -man to secure them. Here, at any rate, not much loss was -suffered, though a great capture was missed, but similar -galloping tactics on June 11, 1812, at the combat of Maguilla, -led to a complete disaster. Slade’s heavy brigade (1st -Royals and 3rd Dragoon Guards) fell in with L’Allemand’s -French brigade, the 17th and 27th Dragoons. Each drew -up, but L’Allemand had placed one squadron in reserve far -beyond the sky line, and out of sight. Slade charged, beat -the five squadrons immediately opposed to him, and then -(without reforming or setting aside any supports) galloped -after the broken French brigade in complete disorder for -a mile, till he came parallel to the unperceived reserve -squadron, which charged him in flank and rear: the rest -of the French halted and turned; Slade could not stand, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">106</span> -was routed, having 40 casualties and 118 prisoners. Wellington -wrote about this to Hill: “I have never been more -annoyed than by Slade’s affair. Our officers of cavalry -have acquired a trick of galloping at everything. They -never consider the situation, never think of manœuvring -before an enemy, and never keep back or provide for a -reserve. All cavalry should charge in two lines, and at -least one-third should be ordered beforehand to pull up and -reform, as soon as the charge has been delivered, and the -enemy been broken.”<a id="FNanchor_100" href="#Footnote_100" class="fnanchor">100</a></p> - -<p>In the first three of the cases mentioned above, the -discredit of the rash and inconsiderate pressing on of the -charge falls on the regimental officers—in the last on -the brigadier, Slade. It must be confessed that Wellington -was not very happy in his senior cavalry officers—Erskine, -Long, and Slade have all some bad marks against them—especially -the last-named, whose proceedings seem nearly -to have broken the heart of the lively and intelligent -diarist Tomkinson, of the 16th Light Dragoons, who had the -misfortune to serve long under him. Stapleton Cotton, the -commander of the whole cavalry, was but a mediocrity; -every one will remember his old chief’s uncomplimentary -remarks about him <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">àpropos</i> of the siege of Bhurtpore. The -man who ought to have been in charge of the British horse -during the whole war was Lord Paget, who had handled -Sir John Moore’s five cavalry regiments with such admirable -skill and daring during the Corunna campaign: his two -little fights of Sahagun and Benevente were models in -their way. But he was unhappily never employed again -till Waterloo—where his doings, under his new name of -Lord Uxbridge, are sufficiently well known. But a question -of seniority, and an unhappy family quarrel with the -Wellesleys (having absconded with the wife of Wellington’s -brother Henry, he fought a duel with her brother in consequence) -prevented him from seeing service under the Duke in -the eventful years 1809–14. Of the cavalry generals who took<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">107</span> -part in the great campaigns, after Paget the most successful -was Lumley, who has two very fine achievements to his -credit—the containing of Soult’s superior cavalry during -the crisis of the battle of Albuera, and the combat of Usagre, -of May 25, 1811, noted above. This was considered such an -admirable piece of work by the enemy, that it is related at -great length in Picard’s <cite xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Histoire de la Cavalerie</cite>, alone -among all British successes of the Peninsular War.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Lumley’s Victory at Usagre</div> - -<p>It needs a word of notice, as it is hardly mentioned in the -Wellington dispatches, and very briefly by Napier. Latour-Maubourg -had been sent by Soult to push back Beresford’s -advanced posts, and discover his position. He had a very -large force—two brigades of dragoons and four regiments -of light cavalry, in all 3500 sabres. Lumley, who was -screening Beresford’s movements, had only three British -regiments (3rd Dragoon Guards, 4th Dragoons, 13th Light -Dragoons), 980 sabres, and Madden’s and Otway’s Portuguese -brigades, 1000 sabres, with 300 of Penne Villemur’s Spanish -horse. Wishing to contain the French advance as long as -possible, he took up a position behind the bridge and village -of Usagre, a defile through which the French must pass in -order to reach him. Latour-Maubourg, relying on the -immense superiority of numbers which he possessed, was -reckless in his tactics. After sending off a brigade of light -horse to turn Lumley’s position, by a very long detour and -distant fords, he pushed his other three brigades into the -village, with orders to cross the bridge and press the enemy -in front. Lumley was showing nothing but a line of -Portuguese vedettes, having withdrawn his squadrons -behind the sky line. He was apprised of the turning -movement, but, knowing the ground better than the -French, was aware that it would take a very much longer -time than the enemy expected, so resolved to hold his -position to the last moment. He allowed the two leading -regiments of Bron’s dragoons to pass the bridge and form -on the nearer side, and then, while the third regiment was -crossing the river, and the second brigade was entering the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">108</span> -long village, charged suddenly in upon the first brigade, -with six English squadrons in front and six Portuguese -squadrons on the right flank. The two deployed French -regiments were thrown back on the third, which was jammed -on the bridge. Hence they could not get away to reform and -rally, the road behind them being entirely blocked, while -the second brigade in the village could not get to the front -to give assistance. All that Latour-Maubourg could do -was to dismount its leading regiment and occupy with it the -houses on each side of the bridge, from which they kept -back the victorious British by their carbine fire. Lumley, -meanwhile, dealt with the three routed regiments at his -leisure, killing or wounding 250 men and capturing 80 -prisoners before the disordered wrecks succeeded in re-crossing -the river. Latour-Maubourg, warned by this bloody -check, showed for the future no anxiety to press in upon -Beresford’s cavalry screen.</p> - -<p>How <em>not</em> to deal with an exactly similar situation, it -may be remarked, was shown on the 23rd October of the -following year, 1812, by two British brigadiers, who, charged -with the covering of the retreat of Wellington’s army from -Burgos, were holding a position behind the bridge of Venta -del Pozo or Villadrigo, when the part of the French cavalry -immediately opposed to them, the brigade of Faverot, ten -squadrons strong, came down to the defile. Faverot, like -Latour-Maubourg at Usagre, took the hazardous step of -ordering his leading regiment to pass the bridge at a trot, -and form on the other side. This Bock, the senior British -brigadier, allowed it to do, and was right in so doing, for -the proper moment to strike was when the enemy should -have half or three-quarters of his men across the bridge, -and the rest jammed upon it. But Bock allowed the psychological -moment to pass, and did not charge till the French -brigade had almost entirely crossed, and could put very -nearly equal numbers in line against him. Then, moving -too late, with some squadrons of Anson’s brigade in support, -he came to a desperate standing fight with the enemy,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">109</span> -in which both suffered very heavily. But when all the -British and German Legion regiments were already engaged, -the rearmost squadrons of the French, which had crossed -the bridge under cover of the fighting line, fell upon Bock -from the flank, and turned one of his wings; the British -cavalry had to give way and retreat, till it was covered by -the infantry of the 7th Division. If Bock had charged -five minutes earlier, he would have nipped the French -column in the middle, and probably have destroyed the -leading regiments. The French brigade, as it was, lost -18 officers and 116 men, Anson and Bock about 200, among -whom were four officers and 70 men prisoners.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Surprise of Arroyo Dos Molinos</div> - -<p>On the whole, I am inclined to think that Wellington -was a little hard on his cavalry. There was, of course, considerable -justification for his criticisms. There was a want -of decision and intelligence among some of his brigadiers, -and a tendency to headlong and reckless charging straight -ahead among many of his regimental officers. But looking -dispassionately at the cavalry work on both sides, it is impossible -to say that the French marshals were any better -served. There is no striking instance in the annals of the -British campaigns of 1809–14 of the army, or even a division, -being surprised for want of vigilance on the part of its -cavalry screen, while several such can be quoted on the -French side—especially Ney’s surprise at Foz d’Arouce on -March 15, 1811—caused by his light cavalry under Lamotte -having completely failed to watch the roads, or the better-known -rout of Girard at Arroyo dos Molinos later in the -same year. On that occasion an infantry division, accompanied -by no less than two brigades of light cavalry, was -attacked at dawn and dispersed with heavy loss, owing to -the fact that the cavalry brigadiers, Bron and Briche, had -taken no precautions whatever to feel for the enemy. They, -like the infantry, were completely surprised, being caught -with the horses unsaddled, and the men dispersed among -houses; hence the chasseurs were taken prisoners in large -numbers by Hill’s sudden rush, one of the brigadiers and a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">110</span> -cavalry colonel being among the 2000 unwounded prisoners -taken. There is no such large-scale surprise as this among -all the records of the British cavalry. The worst that I -know were those of a squadron of the 13th Light Dragoons -on April 6, 1811, near Elvas, and a very similar one of the -11th Light Dragoons two months later, not far from the -same place. In the last case the disaster is said to have -happened because the regiment had only just landed from -England after long home-service, and the captain in -command lost his head from sheer inexperience. With -regard to this I may quote the following pregnant sentence, -from the <cite>Diary</cite> of Tomkinson, who wrote far the best -detailed account of the life of a cavalry regiment during -those eventful years. “To attempt giving men or officers -any idea in England of outpost duty was considered absurd, -and when they came abroad they had all to learn. The -fact was that there was no one to teach them. Sir Stapleton -Cotton (who afterwards commanded the cavalry in Spain) -once tried an experiment with the 14th and 16th Light -Dragoons near Woodbridge in Suffolk. In the end he got -the supposed enemy’s vedettes and his own all facing the -same way. In England I never saw nor heard of cavalry -taught to charge, disperse, and reform, which of all things, -before an enemy, is most essential. Inclining in line right -or left is very useful, and that was scarcely ever practised.” -He adds in 1819: “On return to English duty, after the -peace, we all continued the old system, each regiment -estimating its merit by mere celerity of movement. Not -one idea suggested by our war experience was remembered, -and after five years we shall have to commence all over -again, if we are sent abroad.”</p> - -<p>In short, the proper work of cavalry, apart from mere -charging, had to be learnt on Spanish soil when any regiment -landed. But it was in the end picked up by the better -corps, and on the whole the outpost and reconnaissance work -of the Peninsular Army seem to have been well done, though -some regiments had a better reputation than others. Much<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">111</span> -of the work of this kind speaks for itself. The most admirable -achievement during the war was undoubtedly that of -the 1st Hussars of the K.G.L., who, assisted afterwards by -the 14th and 16th Light Dragoons, kept for four months -(March to May, 1810) the line of the Agueda and Azava, -40 miles long, against a fourfold strength of French cavalry, -without once letting a hostile reconnaissance through, -losing a picket or even a vedette, or sending a piece of false -information back to General Craufurd, whose front they -were covering.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington’s Cavalry Tactics</div> - -<p>Allusion has been made in the opening words of this -chapter to Wellington’s memorandum for the tactical -management of cavalry. It was only issued after Waterloo, -in the form of “Instructions to Officers commanding Brigades -of Cavalry in the Army of Occupation,” but, no doubt, -represents the tactics which he had evolved from his -Peninsular experience.<a id="FNanchor_101" href="#Footnote_101" class="fnanchor">101</a> Too long to give in entirety, it is -worth analysing. The heads run as <span class="locked">follows:—</span></p> - -<p>(1) A reserve must always be kept, to improve a success, -or to cover an unsuccessful charge. This reserve should -not be less than half the total number of sabres, and may -occasionally be as much as two-thirds of it.</p> - -<p>(2) Normally a cavalry force should form in three -lines: the first and second lines should be deployed, the -reserve may be in column, but so formed as to be easily -changed into line.</p> - -<p>(3) The second line should be 400 or 500 yards from the -first, the reserve a similar distance from the second line, if -cavalry is about to act against cavalry. This is found not -too great a distance to prevent the rear lines from improving -an advantage gained by the front line, nor too little to -prevent a defeated front line from passing between the -intervals of its supports without disordering them.</p> - -<p>(4) When, however, cavalry is charging infantry, the -second line should be only 200 yards behind the first, the -object being that it should be able to deliver its charge<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">112</span> -without delay, against a battalion which has spent its -fire against the first line, and will not be prepared for a -second charge pushed in rapid succession to the first.</p> - -<p>(5) When the first line delivers its attack at a gallop, the -supports must follow at a walk only, lest they be carried -forward by the rush, and get mingled with the line in -front at the onset. For order in the supports must be -rigidly kept—they are useless if they have got into confusion, -when they are wanted to sustain and cover a checked -first line.</p> - -<p>A note as to horses may finish our observations on the -cavalry side of Wellington’s tactics. In countless places, -in diaries no less than dispatches, we find the complaint -that the trooper of 1810 was, when not well looked after by -his officers, a bad horse-master—careless as to feeding his -mount, and still more so as to saddle-galls and such like. -It is often remarked that the one German light cavalry -regiment in the original Peninsular Army, the 1st Hussars -of the King’s German Legion, set an example which some -other regiments might have copied with advantage, being -far more conscientious and considerate to their beasts. It -is interesting to find that the French cavalry reports have -exactly the same complaints, and the number of dismounted -men shown in French regimental states as a consequence of -sick horses was as great as our own. Several times I have -found the report that when a considerable number of French -cavalry had been captured, quite a small proportion of -their horses could be turned over to serve as remounts for -their captors, because of the abominable condition in which -they were found. The fact was that the climate and the -food seem to have been equally deleterious to the English -and French horses: a diet of chopped straw and green -maize—often all that could be got—was deadly to horses -accustomed to stable diet in England or France. Wellington -sometimes actually imported hay and oats from -England; but they could not be got far up country, and -only served for regiments that chanced to be put into winter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">113</span> -quarters near the sea. Practically all the remounts came -from England—the Portuguese and Spanish horses having -been tried and found wanting many times. In 1808 the -20th Light Dragoons were embarked without horses, being -ordered to mount themselves in Portugal; but the experiment -failed wholly.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington’s Artillery Tactics</div> - -<p>Only a short note is required as to Wellington’s use of -artillery. In his early years of command he was almost as -weak in this arm as in cavalry. There was not one British -battery per division available in 1809. But the Portuguese -artillery being numerous, and ere long very efficient, was -largely used to supplement the British after 1810. Yet -even when it had become proportioned to the number of his -whole army, the Duke did not use it in the style of Bonaparte. -He never worked with enormous masses of guns manœuvring -in front line, and supporting an attack, such as the -Emperor used. Only at Bussaco, Vittoria, and Waterloo -do we find anything like a concentration of many batteries -to play an important part in the line of battle. Usually the -Duke preferred to work with small units—individual -batteries—placed in well-chosen spots, and often kept -concealed till the critical moment. They were dotted -along the front of the position rather than massed, and in -most cases must be regarded as valuable support for the -infantry that was to win the battle, rather than as an arm -intended to work for its independent aims and to take a -special part in war. Of several of Napoleon’s victories we -may say that they were artilleryman’s battles; nothing of -the kind can be predicated of any of Wellington’s triumphs, -though the guns were always well placed, and most usefully -employed, as witness Bussaco, Fuentes de Oñoro, and -Waterloo.</p> - -<p>As to Wellington’s use of siege artillery, we must speak -in a later chapter.<a id="FNanchor_102" href="#Footnote_102" class="fnanchor">102</a> It was, through no fault of his own, -the weakest point in his army: indeed till 1811 he never -had a British battering-train, and in the early sieges of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">114</span> -Badajoz he worked <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">in forma pauperis</i>, with improvised -material, mainly Portuguese, and very deficient in quality. -The record is not a cheerful one; but it must be said that -the home authorities, and not Wellington, were the responsible -parties for any checks that were suffered. A great -general who is not an artillery or engineering specialist -must trust to his scientific officers, and certainly cannot be -made responsible for shortage of men and material due to -the parsimony of his masters at home.</p> - -<p>So much for the great Duke’s tactics. We shall presently -be investigating his system of military organization—the -inner machinery of his army. But before dealing with it, -we shall have to spare some attention for his greater -lieutenants, whose individualities had an important share -in the management of his army.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">115</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_VI" class="vspace">CHAPTER VI<br /> - -<span class="subhead">WELLINGTON’S LIEUTENANTS—HILL, BERESFORD, -GRAHAM</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>There can be no stronger contrast than that between the -impression which the Iron Duke left on his old followers, -and that produced by his trusted and most responsible -lieutenant, Sir Rowland Hill. Hill was blessed and kindly -remembered wherever he went. He was a man brimming -over with the milk of human kindness, and the mention -of him in any diary is generally accompanied by some -anecdote of an act of thoughtful consideration, some -friendly word, or piece of unpremeditated, often homely -charity. A wounded officer from Albuera, who is dragging -himself painfully back to Lisbon, reports himself to Hill -as he passes his headquarters. Next morning “the general -himself attended me out on my road, to give me at parting -a basket with tea, sugar, bread, butter, and a large venison -pasty.”<a id="FNanchor_103" href="#Footnote_103" class="fnanchor">103</a> A grateful sergeant, who bore a letter to Hill in -1813, remembers how he expected nothing but a nod and an -answer from such a great man, and was surprised to find that -the general ordered his servant to give the messenger a -supper, arranged for his billet that night, and next morn -had his haversack stuffed with bread and meat, presented -him with a dollar, and advised him where to sleep on his -return journey.<a id="FNanchor_104" href="#Footnote_104" class="fnanchor">104</a> He would give an exhausted private a -drink from the can that had just been brought for his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">116</span> -personal use, or find time to bestow a piece of friendly advice -on an unknown subaltern. This simple, pious, considerate -old officer, whose later portraits show a decided resemblance -to Mr. Pickwick, was known everywhere among the rank -and file as “Daddy Hill.” An officer of the 2nd Division -sums up his character in a well-written letter as follows<a id="FNanchor_105" href="#Footnote_105" class="fnanchor">105</a>: -“The foundation of all his popularity with the troops was -his sterling worth and heroic spirit, but his popularity was -strengthened and increased as soon as he was personally -known. He was the very picture of an English country -gentleman: to the soldiers who came from the rural districts -of old England he represented <em>home</em>; his fresh complexion, -placid face, kind eyes, kind voice, the absence of all parade -or noise in his manner delighted them. The displeasure of -Sir Rowland was worse to them than the loudest anger of -other generals. His attention to all their wants and comforts, -his visits to the sick in hospital, his vigilant protection -of the poor peasantry, his just severity to marauders, his -generous treatment of such French prisoners and wounded -as fell into his hands, made for him a warm place in the hearts -of his soldiery; and where’er the survivors of that army -are now scattered, assuredly Hill’s name and image are -dearly cherished still.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Merits of Sir Rowland Hill</div> - -<p>The description sounds like that of a benevolent old -squire, rather than that of a distinguished lieutenant-general. -Nevertheless, Rowland Hill was a very great -man of war. Wellington liked him as a subordinate -because of his extraordinary punctuality in obedience, and -the entire absence in him of that restless personal ambition -which makes many able men think more of opportunities -for distinguishing themselves than of exact performance -of the orders given them. Wherever Hill was, it was certain -that nothing would be risked, and nothing would be forgotten. -His beautiful combination of intelligence and -executive power more than once brought relief to his chief’s -mind in a critical moment, most of all on the march to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">117</span> -Bussaco in September, 1810, when it was all-important to -Wellington’s plans that his own detached force under Hill -should join him as soon as Masséna’s similar detached force -under Reynier should have reached the main French -army. Hill executed a long and difficult march over a -mountainous country with admirable speed, and was duly -up in line on the day before the battle of Bussaco, which -could not in common prudence have been fought if he had -been late.</p> - -<p>This we might have expected from a man of Hill’s -character; but what is more surprising is that when he -was trusted—a thing that did not often occur under Wellington’s -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">régime</i>—with a command in which he was allowed to -take the offensive on his own account, he displayed not -only a power of organizing, but a fierce driving energy -which none of Wellington’s more eager and restless subordinates -could have surpassed. Speedy pursuit of an -enemy on the move was not one of the great Duke’s characteristics; -he was often, and not unjustly, accused of -not making the best profit out of his victories. But Hill’s -rapid following up of Girard, in November, 1811, ending -with the complete surprise and dispersion or capture of -the French force at Arroyo dos Molinos, was a piece of work -which for swift, continuous movement, over mountain -roads, in vile rainy weather, could not have been surpassed -by the best of Napoleon’s lieutenants. Another blow of -the most creditable swiftness and daring was the storming -of the forts of Almaraz five months later, when Hill, with a -light force, plunged right into the middle of the French -cantonments and broke the all-important bridge by which -Soult and Marmont were wont to co-operate. The forts -were stormed, the bridge thoroughly destroyed, and Hill -was off, and out of reach, before the neighbouring French -divisions were half concentrated.</p> - -<p>But the crowning glory of Hill’s Peninsular service was -the one general action in which he was fortunate enough to -hold independent command. This was at the end of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">118</span> -war, the battle of St. Pierre, near Bayonne. He was -forming the right flank of Wellington’s line when his -communication with the main army was cut off by a rise -in the river Nive, which carried away the bridges by which -he communicated with the main host. Soult, transferring -the bulk of his field force, then in front of Wellington, by -means of the bridges in Bayonne town, fell upon Hill with -five divisions. Hill had only two, those which he had -commanded for the last three years, the 2nd and Hamilton’s -(now Le Cor’s) Portuguese. With 15,000 men he fought a -defensive battle against 30,000 for the greater part of the -short December day. His reserves were used up, every -regiment had charged many times, the losses were heavy, -and it seemed hardly possible to hold on against such odds. -But Hill did so, and at last the reinforcements from the -other side of the river Nive began to appear in the late -afternoon, and Soult desisted from his attack and drew -off beaten. This was one of the most desperate pieces of -fighting in the Peninsular War, and Hill was the soul of -the defence. He was seen at every point of danger, and -repeatedly led up rallied regiments in person to save what -seemed like a lost battle. Eye-witnesses speak of him as -quite transformed from his ordinary placidity—a very -picture of warlike energy. He was even heard to swear, -a thing so rare that we are assured that this lapse from -his accustomed habits only took place twice during the -whole war. The first occasion was in the desperate melée -in the night attack that began the battle of Talavera.</p> - -<div id="ip_118" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 30.125em;"><p><i>PLATE II.</i></p> -<img src="images/i_118.jpg" width="482" height="600" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Lord Hill, G.C.B.</span></p></div></div> - -<p>It is clear that Hill was a man capable of the highest -feats in war, who might have gone very far, if he had been -given the chance of a completely independent command. -But such was not his fortune, and in his last campaign, that -of Waterloo, he was almost lost to sight, as a corps-commander -whose troops were operating always under the -immediate eye of Wellington. He survived to a good old -age, was made Commander-in-Chief of the British Army -when Wellington gave up the office on accepting the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">119</span> -Premiership in 1827, and held it till within a few months -of his death in 1842. Almost the last recorded words of -the kindly old man upon his death-bed were, “I have a -great deal to be thankful for; I believe I have not an enemy -in the world.” And this was literally true: to know -“Daddy Hill” was to love him.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Lord Beresford</div> - -<p>The other lieutenant to whom Wellington repeatedly -entrusted a semi-independent command was one who was -neither so blameless nor so capable as Rowland Hill. Yet -William Carr Beresford was by no means to be despised -as a soldier. The illegitimate son of a great Irish peer, he -was put into a marching regiment at seventeen, and saw -an immense amount of service even for those stirring days -of the Revolutionary War, when a British officer was liable -to be sent to any of the four continents in rapid succession. -This was literally the case with Beresford, who was engaged -in India, Egypt, the Cape of Good Hope, Buenos Ayres, -and Portugal in the eight years between 1800 and 1808.</p> - -<p>When the Portuguese Government asked for a British -general to reorganize their dilapidated army in 1809, -Beresford was the man selected—partly because he had the -reputation of being a good disciplinarian, partly because he -knew the Portuguese tongue, from having garrisoned -Madeira for many months, but mostly (as we are told) -because of political influence. His father’s family had never -lost sight of him, and he was well “pushed” by the Beresford -clan, who were a great power in Ireland, and had to be -conciliated by all Governments.</p> - -<p>If this appointment to command the Portuguese Army -was a job, we may say (with Gilbert’s judge) that so far as -organization went, it was “a good job too.” For he -did most eminent service in creating order out of chaos, -and produced in the short space of a year a well-disciplined -force that was capable of taking a creditable part in line -with the British Army, and won well-deserved encomiums -from Wellington and every other fair critic for the part -that it took at Bussaco, its first engagement. The new<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">120</span> -army had not been created without much friction and -discontent: to clear out scores of incapable officers—many -of them <i xml:lang="pt" lang="pt">fidalgos</i> with great court influence—to promote -young and unknown men to their places, to enforce the -rigour of the conscription in a land where it existed in -theory but had always been evaded in practice, gained -Beresford immense unpopularity, which he faced in the -most stolid and unbending fashion. At last the Portuguese -Army was up to strength, and had learnt to obey as well -as to fight. The teaching had been by the most drastic -methods: Beresford cashiered officers, and shot deserters -or marauders in the rank and file, with a rigid disregard -alike for personal and court influence, and for public -opinion, which Wellington himself could not have surpassed. -He was, indeed, an honest, inflexible, and hard-working -administrator; but with this and with a personal courage -that ran almost to excess his capacities ended. His virtue -in Wellington’s eyes was that, after one short tussle of wills, -he completely and very wisely submitted himself to be the -mere instrument of his greater colleague, and did everything -that he was told to do, working the Portuguese army -to the best effect as an auxiliary force to the British, and -making no attempt to assert an independent authority. -Instead of being kept under his hand in a body, it was cut -up into brigades, each of which, with few exceptions, was -simply attached to a British division.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Beresford’s Limitations</div> - -<p>It was no doubt because Beresford showed himself so -obedient and loyal, and exhibited such complete self-abnegation, -that Wellington, both in 1809 and 1811, entrusted -him with the command of large detached forces -at a distance from the main army. But the marshal was -by no means up to the task entrusted to him, and after -the unhappy experiment of the first siege of Badajoz, and -the ill-fought battle of Albuera, Wellington removed him -from separate command, on the excuse that more organizing -was needed at Lisbon, and kept him either there, or with the -main army (where he had no opportunities of separate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">121</span> -command) till the last year of the war. In 1814 he was for -a few weeks entrusted with the conduct of the expedition -to Bordeaux, but as it was unopposed by the enemy—and -was bound to be so, as Wellington well knew—this was -giving him no great responsibility. During the three last -years of the war he was really in a rather otiose and equivocal -position, as titular Commander-in-Chief of an army which -was not treated as a unit, but dispersed abroad among the -British divisions. Occasionally he was used as a corps -commander under Wellington’s own eye, as at Toulouse, -where he led the turning column of the 4th and 6th Divisions -which broke down Soult’s flank defences. For such a task, -when hard fighting and obedience to orders was all that -was needed, he was a fully competent lieutenant. It was -when thrown on his own resources and forced to make -decisions of his own that he showed himself so much inferior -to his successor Hill.</p> - -<p>Beresford was a very tall and stalwart man of herculean -strength—every one knows of his personal encounter with -a Polish lancer at Albuera: he parried the Pole’s thrust, -caught him by the collar, and jerked him out of his saddle -and under his horse’s feet, with one twist of his powerful -arm. His features were singularly rough-cast and irregular, -and a sinister appearance was given to his face by a discoloured -and useless left eye, which had been injured in a -shooting accident when he was quite a young man. The -glare of this injured optic is said to have been discomposing -to culprits whom he had to upbraid and admonish, a task -which he always executed with thoroughness. He had -been forced to trample on so many misdemeanants, small -and great, during his five years in command of the Portuguese -army, that he enjoyed a very general unpopularity. -But I have never found any case in which he can be accused -of injustice or oppression; the fact was that he had a great -many unsatisfactory subordinates to deal with. His own -staff and the better officers of the Portuguese service liked -him well enough, and the value of his work cannot be too<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">122</span> -highly praised. He came little into contact with the British -part of the army, but I note that the 88th, whom he had -commanded before the war in Spain began, much preferred -him to their later chief, Picton, and had a kindly memory -of him. There are singularly few tales or anecdotes connected -with his name, from which I deduce that in British -military circles he was neither much loved nor much -hated.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Early Career of Graham</div> - -<p>A far more picturesque figure is the third of the three -generals to whom, at one time or another, Wellington -committed the charge of a detached corps, Thomas Graham -of Balgowan, later created Lord Lynedoch. I have already -alluded to him in my preface, as in one way the most typical -figure of the epoch—the personification of all that class of -Britons who took arms against France when the Revolutionary -War broke out, as a plain duty incumbent upon -them in days when the country and Crown were in danger. -He had seen the Jacobin mob face to face in its frenzy, in -a sufficiently horrid fashion. In 1792 he had taken his -invalid wife—the beautiful Mrs. Graham of Gainsborough’s -well-known picture—to the Riviera, in the vain hope that -her consumption might be stayed. She died, nevertheless, -and he started home towards Scotland with her coffin, to -lay her in the grave of his ancestors. On the way he passed -through a town where the crazy hunt after impossible royalist -conspiracies was in full swing. A crowd of drunken National -Guards were seized with the idea that he was an emissary -in disguise, bearing arms to aristocrats. The coffin, they -declared, was probably full of pistols and daggers, and -while the unhappy husband struggled in vain to hold them -off, they broke it open, and exposed his wife’s long-dead -corpse. After this incident Thomas Graham not unnaturally -conceived the idea that his one duty in life was -to shoot Jacobins. When he had buried his wife at Methven -he was ready for that duty, and the war with France -breaking out only five months after, his opportunity was -at hand. Though a civilian, a Whig member of Parliament,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">123</span> -and forty-four years of age, though he had no knowledge of -military affairs, and had never heard a shot fired in anger, -he went to the front at once, and fought through the siege -of Toulon as a sort of volunteer aide-de-camp to Lord -Mulgrave. It is odd that both Julius Cæsar and Oliver -Cromwell started at this same age as soldiers. This was -the first of an endless series of campaigns against the -French; Graham got a quasi-military status by raising -at his own expense the 90th Foot, or Perthshire Volunteers, -of which he was in reward made honorary colonel. With -the curious rank of honorary colonel—he never held any -lower—he went as British attaché to the Austrian Army -of Italy, getting the post because Englishmen who could -speak both German and Italian were rare. He saw the -unhappy campaigns of 1796–97 under Beaulieu, Würmser, -and the Archduke Charles, being thus one of the few -British observers who witnessed Bonaparte’s first essays -in strategy. Then he held staff appointments during the -operations in Minorca and Malta, and again served with -the Austrians in Italy in 1799. After much more service, -the last of it as British attaché with the army of Castaños -in Spain, during the Tudela campaign, he was at last -informed that—all precedents notwithstanding—from an -honorary colonelcy he was promoted to be a major-general -on the regular establishment, on account of his long and -distinguished service. Down to 1809 he had seen more -fighting than falls to most men, without owning any -proper military rank, for his colonelcy of 1794, which he -had held for fifteen years, was only titular and temporary, -and gave him no regular rank. He had technically -never been more than a civilian with an honorary -title!</p> - -<p>Yet in 1810 he was entrusted with the important post -of commander of the British troops in Cadiz, and commenced -to take an important part in the Peninsular War. -He was now sixty-two years of age, and would have been -counted past service according to eighteenth century<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">124</span> -notions. But his iron frame gave no signs of approaching -decay, no fatigue or privation could tire him, and he was -one of the boldest riders in the army. His portrait shows -a man with a regular oval face, a rather melancholy expression—there -is a sad droop in the eyelids—and abundant -white hair, worn rather long. His mouth is firm and -inflexible, his general expression very resolute, but a little -tired—that of a man who has been for nearly twenty years -crusading against an enemy with whom no peace must be -made, and who does not yet see the end in sight, but -proposes to fight on till he drops. He was a fine scholar, -knew six languages, had travelled all over Europe, and -was such a master of his pen that both his dispatches and -his private letters and diary are among the best-written -and most interesting original material that exists for this -period.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Graham at Barrosa</div> - -<p>The crowning exploit of Graham’s life was the victory -which he won, with every chance against him, at Barrosa -on March 7th, 1811, a wonderful instance of the triumph -of a quick eye, and a sudden resolute blow over long odds. -Caught on the march by a sudden flank attack of Marshal -Victor, owing to the imbecile arrangements of the Spanish -General La Peña, under whose orders he was serving, -Graham, instead of waiting to be attacked, which would -have been fatal, took the offensive himself. His troops -were strung out on the line of march through a wood, and -there was no time to form a regular order of battle, for the -French were absolutely rushing in upon him. Victor -thought that he had before him an easy victory, over a -force surprised in an impossible posture. But Graham, -throwing out a strong line of skirmishers to hold back the -enemy for the few necessary minutes, aligned his men in -the edge of the wood, without regard for brigade or even for -battalion unity, and attacked the French with such sudden -swiftness that it was Victor, and not he, who was really -surprised. The enemy was assailed before he had formed -any line of battle, or deployed a single battalion, and was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">125</span> -driven off the field in an hour after a most bloody fight. -Graham led the centre of his own left brigade like a general -of the Middle Ages, riding ten yards ahead of the line with -his plumed hat waving in his right hand, and his white -hair streaming in the wind. This was not the right place -for a commanding officer; but the moment was a -desperate one, and all depended on the swiftness and suddenness -of the stroke; there was no manœuvring possible, -and no further orders save to go straight on. Improvising -his battle-order in five minutes, with only 5000 men against -7000, and attacking rather uphill, he won a magnificent -victory, which would have ended in the complete destruction -of the French if the Spaniard La Peña had moved to -his aid. But that wretched officer remained halted with -his whole division only two miles from the field, and did -not stir a man to aid his colleague.</p> - -<p>A few months after Barrosa, Graham was moved -from Cadiz to join the main army in Portugal, at the request -of Wellington, who gave him the command of his left -wing during the autumn campaign of 1811, and again -through the whole of that of 1813. For the greater part of -that of 1812 Graham was away on sick leave, for the first time -in his life, his eyes having given out from long exposure to -the southern sun. Unluckily for him, his promotion to -command a wing of the grand army meant that he was -generally under Wellington’s own eye, with small opportunity -of acting for himself. But his chief chose him to -take charge of the most critical operation of the Vittoria -campaign, the long flank march through the mountains -of the Tras-os-Montes, which turned the right wing of -the French and forced them out of position after position -in a running fight of 200 miles. Still outflanking the enemy, -it was he who cut in across the high-road to France at Vittoria, -and forced the beaten army of Jourdan to retire -across by-paths, with the loss of all its artillery, train, -baggage, and stores.</p> - -<p>For the dramatic completeness of this splendid old<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">126</span> -man’s career, we could have wished that it had ended in -1813. But the Home Government, seeking for a trustworthy -officer to command the expedition to Holland in -the following winter, chose Graham to conduct it, and his -last campaign was marred by a disaster. He drove, it is -true, the remnants of the French army out of Holland, -though his force was small—only 7000 men, and formed of -raw second battalions hastily collected from English -garrisons. But his daring attempt to escalade the great -fortress of Bergen-op-Zoom, the one stronghold still held -by the enemy, was a sad failure. Taking advantage of a -hard frost, which had made the marsh-defences of that -strong town useless for the moment, Graham planned a -midnight attack by four columns, of which two succeeded -in crossing all obstacles and entering the place. But when -all seemed won, the general’s part of the scheme having -succeeded to admiration, the officers in immediate charge -of the attack ignored many of their orders, dispersed their -men in unwise petty enterprises, and finally were attacked -and driven out of the town piecemeal by the rallied -garrison. The loss was terrible, fully 2000 men, of whom -half were prisoners. But the bold conception of the -enterprise rather than its failure should be put down -to Graham’s account. The mismanagement by his -subordinates was incredible. Wellington, looking over -the fortress a year later, is said to have observed -that it must have been extremely difficult to get in. -“But,” he added, “when once in, I wonder how the -devil they ever suffered themselves to be beaten out -again.”</p> - -<div id="ip_126" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 28.5625em;"><p><i>PLATE III.</i></p> -<img src="images/i_126.jpg" width="457" height="600" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p><span class="smcap">General Thomas Graham, Baron Lynedoch, G.C.B., G.C.M.G.</span></p> - -<p class="smaller"><i>From the picture by Sir George Hayter.</i></p></div></div> - -<p>Graham’s last campaign was marred by this check. -But, in the general distribution of rewards at the peace of -1814, he was given a peerage, by the title of Lord Lynedoch, -and shared in the other honours of the Peninsular Army. -Though sixty-six years old when the war ended, he survived -till 1843, when he had reached the patriarchal age of ninety-six. -He did a good service to his old comrades by founding<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">127</span> -the United Service Club, which he originally designed as a -place of rendezvous for old Peninsular officers, of whom he -had noticed that many were lonely men without family -ties, like himself, while others, stranded in London for a -few days, had no central spot where they could count on -meeting old friends.<a id="FNanchor_106" href="#Footnote_106" class="fnanchor">106</a> His portrait hangs, as is right, in -the most prominent place in the largest room of the institution -which he founded.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Graham and his Admirers</div> - -<p>I have never found one unkindly word about General -Graham, in the numerous diaries and autobiographies of -the officers and men who served under him. All comment -on his stately presence, his thoughtful courtesy, and his -unfailing justice and benevolence. “I may truly say he -lives in their affections; they not only looked up to him -with confidence as their commander, but they esteemed and -respected him as their firm friend and protector, which, -indeed, he always showed himself to be.”<a id="FNanchor_107" href="#Footnote_107" class="fnanchor">107</a> “What could -not Britons do, when led by such a chief?” asks another.<a id="FNanchor_108" href="#Footnote_108" class="fnanchor">108</a> -I might make a considerable list of the names of British -officers who relate their personal obligation to his kindness;<a id="FNanchor_109" href="#Footnote_109" class="fnanchor">109</a> -but perhaps the most convincing evidence of all is -that of the French Colonel Vigo-Roussillon, one of the enemies -whom he captured at Barrosa, who has no words strong -enough to express the delicate generosity with which he -was treated while a wounded prisoner at Cadiz. Graham -came to visit him on his sick bed, sent his own physician -to attend him, and made copious provision for his food and -lodging. For a conscientious hatred for French influence, -whether that of the red Jacobin republic, or that of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">128</span> -Napoleonic despotism, did not prevent him from showing -his benevolence to individual Frenchmen thrown upon -his mercy.<a id="FNanchor_110" href="#Footnote_110" class="fnanchor">110</a></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">129</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_VII" class="vspace">CHAPTER VII<br /> - -<span class="subhead">WELLINGTON’S LIEUTENANTS—PICTON, CRAUFURD, -AND OTHERS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>If Graham had no enemies, and was loved by every one -with whom he came in contact, the same cannot be said of -the two distinguished officers with whom I have next to -deal, General Robert Craufurd and Sir Thomas Picton. -They were both men of mark, Craufurd even more so than -Picton; they both fell in action at the moment of victory; -they were both employed by Wellington for the most -responsible services, and he owed much to their admirable -executive powers; but both of them were occasionally -out of his good graces. Each of them had many admiring -friends and many bitter enemies, whose reasons for liking -and disliking them it is not hard to discover. Both of -them were to a certain extent embittered and disappointed -men, who thought that their work had never received -adequate recognition, a view for which there was considerable -justification. In other respects they were wholly -unlike; their characters differed fundamentally, so much -so that when they met it was not unfrequently to clash and -quarrel.</p> - -<p>Picton, a Welsh country gentleman by birth, was a -typical eighteenth century soldier, who had (after the old -fashion) entered the army at thirteen years of age, and had -gone on foreign service at fifteen. His manners, we gather, -were those of the barrack-room; he was a hard drinking, -hard swearing, rough-and-ready customer. Wellington, -who was not squeamish, called him “a rough, foul-mouthed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">130</span> -devil as ever lived,<a id="FNanchor_111" href="#Footnote_111" class="fnanchor">111</a> but he always behaved extremely -well on service.” The notorious Duke of Queensberry, -“Old Q,” was his friend and admirer, and left him a good -legacy of £5000 in his will. Old Q’s model heroes were not -of the Wesleyan Methodist type. One of the strongest -impressions left on one’s mind by the diaries of those who -served under him is that of his astounding power of malediction. -Kincaid’s account of the sack of Ciudad Rodrigo is -dominated by “the voice of Sir Thomas Picton, with the -power of twenty trumpets proclaiming damnation to all -and sundry.”<a id="FNanchor_112" href="#Footnote_112" class="fnanchor">112</a> But if he was destitute of all the graces -and some of the virtues, Picton was a very fine soldier, -with a quick eye, unlimited self-confidence, and the courage -of ten bulldogs. He had, when once the Revolutionary -War commenced, made his way to the front with great -rapidity. A captain in 1794, he had become a brigadier-general -by 1799, and his promotion had been won by undeniable -good service. For his ultimate misfortune, he -was made in 1797 governor of the newly conquered Spanish -island of Trinidad in the West Indies, while still only a -colonel. This was the beginning of his troubles; the post -was lucrative, dangerous, and difficult. The garrison was -insufficient, and the island was swarming with disbanded -Spanish soldiers, runaway negro slaves, French adventurers, -and privateers and pirates of all nations from the Spanish -Main. Picton had to create order from chaos, and then to -keep it up; his methods were drastic: the lash and the -pillory, the branding-irons, and, where necessary, military -execution. It does not appear on impartial examination -that he ever showed himself self-seeking, partial, or corrupt -in his administration; he merely tried, in his own rough -way, to dragoon into order a very unruly and lawless -community. The majority of the better classes approved -his rule, which, as one of them said, “was of the sort -required by the colony” where a governor “had to make<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">131</span> -himself feared as well as beloved.” Naturally he made -many enemies, white, black, and brown, English and -Spanish, adventurers and officials. They kept up a rain -of petitions against him at the Colonial Office, in which he -was represented as a sort of Nero. The most acrid and -ingenious of them, a Colonel Fullarton, succeeded in finding -a method of attack which was certain to have a great -vogue when tried in England. The old Spanish law still -ran in Trinidad, and under it various forms of durance and -torture were permitted against suspected persons under -arrest. A case had happened in which a mulatto girl, who -had been concerned in stealing 2000 dollars from a Spanish -tobacco merchant, was put to the barbarous punishment -of picketing (standing with the heels on a stake) by the local -magistrates, to make her confess who had taken the money, -and where it was hidden. After a few minutes she admitted -that her lover had stolen it, with her aid and consent; -and this was proved to be the fact. Thus under Picton’s -rule, and (as it turned out) with his knowledge, a woman -had been put to the torture, though the torture was slight -and the woman guilty.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Picton in Trinidad</div> - -<p>Picton, on returning to England, was therefore accused -by Colonel Fullarton of many tyrannical acts, but, above -all, of having put a woman to the torture in order to extract -a confession, a thing abhorrent alike to the laws of England -and to the common sentiments of humanity. There followed -a long political trial, (for it became a matter of Whig -and Tory partizanship), in which the Government finally -dropped the prosecution, because it was amply proved that -Spanish, not English, law was running in Trinidad in 1801, -since the island had not been annexed till the peace of -Amiens in the following year, and that the governor had -simply allowed the local magistrates to act according to -their usual practice. The other charges all fell through.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, the mud stuck, as Fullarton had intended, -and Picton was generally remembered as the man who had -permitted a woman to be tortured. The trial had dragged<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">132</span> -over several years, and had been most costly to the accused. -Since there had been no verdict, owing to the prosecution -having simply been dropped, he had not even the satisfaction -of being able to say that he had been acquitted by a -jury of his countrymen. There was a sort of slur, however -unjust, upon his name.</p> - -<p>It therefore argued considerable independence and disregard -of public opinion on the part of Wellington, when -he wrote home to ask that Picton might be sent out to him -to command a division,<a id="FNanchor_113" href="#Footnote_113" class="fnanchor">113</a> purely on his military record as a -hard fighter. The general came out to Portugal with a -name unfavourably known, and to colleagues and subordinates -who were prepared to view him with a critical -eye. “It is impossible to deny,” writes an officer who -served under him, “that a very strong dislike towards the -general was prevalent. His conduct in the island of -Trinidad ... had impressed all ranks with an unfavourable -opinion of the man. His first appearance was looked for -with no little anxiety. When he reached the ground, -accompanied by his staff, every eye was turned towards -him, and his appearance and demeanour were closely -observed. He looked to be a man between fifty and sixty, -and I never saw a more perfect specimen of a splendid-looking -soldier. In vain did those who had set him down -as a cruel tyrant seek to find out such a delineation in his -countenance. On the contrary, there was a manly open -frankness in his appearance that gave a flat contradiction -to the slander. And in truth Picton was <em>not</em> a tyrant, nor -did he ever act as such during the many years that he -commanded the 3rd Division. But if his countenance did -not depict him as cruel, there was a sarcastic severity -about it, and a certain curl of the lip, that marked him as -one who despised rather than courted applause. The -stern countenance, robust frame, caustic speech, and -austere demeanour told in legible characters that he was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">133</span> -one not likely to say a thing and then not do as he had said. -In a word, his appearance denoted him a man of strong -mind and strong frame.”<a id="FNanchor_114" href="#Footnote_114" class="fnanchor">114</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Picton and the 88th Foot</div> - -<p>It was considered characteristic that he ended his first -inspection of the division by holding a drum-head court-martial -on two soldiers who had stolen a goat, and witnessing -their punishment. He then rode up to the regiment to -which the culprits belonged, the 88th, and “in language -not of that bearing which an officer of his rank should use,” -said, “You are not known in the army by the name of -Connaught Rangers, but by the name of Connaught <em>footpads</em>,” -with some unnecessary remarks on their country -and their religion.</p> - -<p>This untoward incident was the commencement of a -long feud between Picton and the 88th, which endured all -through the war, and led, at the end of it, to the Rangers -refusing to subscribe to the laudatory address and plate -which the rest of the 3rd Division offered to their general, -after nearly five years of glorious service. Yet the feud -was not incompatible with a good deal of reluctant esteem -on both sides. On the morning after the storm of Ciudad -Rodrigo, in which the Rangers had taken a most gallant -part, we are told that some of the men, more than usually -elated in spirits, called out to their commander, “Well, -general, we gave you a cheer last night: it’s your turn now.” -Picton, smiling, took off his hat and said, “Here, then, -you drunken set of brave rascals, hurrah! And we’ll soon -be at Badajoz,” to which scene of even greater glory for -the 3rd Division he did conduct them within a few weeks.</p> - -<p>The considerable string of stories, true, half-true, or -apocryphal, which cling round the name of Picton relate -in about equal proportions, on the one hand, to his extreme -intrepidity and coolness in action, and, on the other, to -his vehemence alike of language and of action, which -struck terror into the objects of his wrath. The best of -the former with which I am acquainted comes from the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">134</span> -same diarist, Grattan, of the 88th, whom I have already -been quoting. It relates to the day of El Bodon (September -25, 1811), when the 3rd Division, caught in a somewhat -isolated position owing to one of Wellington’s few tactical -slips, was retreating in column across a level upland, -beset by Montbrun and three brigades of French cavalry. -“For six miles across a perfect flat, without the slightest -protection from any incident of the ground, without -artillery, almost without cavalry, did the 3rd Division -continue its march. During the whole time the French -cavalry never quitted us, and six light guns, advancing with -them and taking the division in flank and rear, poured in a -frightful fire of grape and canister. General Picton conducted -himself with his accustomed coolness. He rode on -the left flank of the column, and repeatedly cautioned the -different battalions to mind the quarter distance and the -‘tellings off.’ At last we got within a mile of our entrenched -camp at Fuente Guinaldo, when Montbrun, impatient lest -his prey should escape from his grasp, ordered his troopers -to bring up their right shoulders and incline towards our -column. The movement was not exactly bringing up his -squadrons into line, but it was the next thing to it. They -were within half pistol-shot of us. Picton took off his hat, -and holding it over his eyes as a shade from the sun, looked -sternly but anxiously at the French. The clatter of the -horses and the clanking of the scabbards were so great, as -the right squadron moved up, that many thought it the -forerunner of a general charge. Some mounted officer -called out, ‘Had we not better form square?’ ‘No,’ -replied Picton; ‘it is but a <em>ruse</em> to frighten us, and it <em>won’t -do</em>.’ In half an hour more we were safe within our -lines.”<a id="FNanchor_115" href="#Footnote_115" class="fnanchor">115</a></p> - -<p>This was a fine example of cool resolution, and ended -happily what had been a very anxious hour for Wellington. -But I imagine that the occasion on which the Commander-in-Chief -owed most to the commander of the 3rd Division<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">135</span> -was the storm of Badajoz. It will be remembered that -on that bloody night the main attack on the breaches failed -completely, despite of the desperate exertions of the 4th -and Light Divisions. The attempt by escalade upon the -towering walls of the castle, which proved successful and -caused the fall of the fortress, had not been in Wellington’s -original plan, but was suggested to him by Picton, who had -viewed the breaches, and had not been convinced that they -could be carried. Picton pleaded that he might be -allowed to try the castle with his own division as a subsidiary -operation.<a id="FNanchor_116" href="#Footnote_116" class="fnanchor">116</a> He succeeded triumphantly, and so -saved the day. If he had not made his offer, the chance of -the city’s falling would have been infinitely less, even though -a brigade of the 5th Division did succeed in entering Badajoz -at another point remote from the fatal breaches. Though -Picton got plenty of praise for his courage on this night, it -was not generally known that he ought to have been praised -even more for his prescience.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Picton at Badajoz</div> - -<p>Numberless instances of Picton’s skill and tenacity -might be quoted, all through the six years of his service -under Wellington. But the anecdote which best illustrates -his Spartan courage is one which belongs to the last three -days of his life. At Quatre Bras, where his division so -long held back the vehement attacks of Ney, he received a -musket ball in his left side, which, though it gave a somewhat -glancing blow and did not penetrate, broke two of -his ribs. Believing that the battle would be continued -next day, he resolved not to return himself as wounded, -lest the surgeons should insist on sending him to the rear. -He roughly bound up the wound with the assistance of -his soldier servant, and was on his horse throughout June -17, conducting the retreat of his division. On the 18th, as -every one knows, he was killed—shot through the head—while -leading the decisive charge which beat d’Erlon’s -corps from the heights of Mont St. Jean. Only when<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">136</span> -his body was stripped, to be laid in the coffin, was it discovered -that he had gone into action at Waterloo with a -dangerous, perhaps mortal, wound two days old upon him. -For his side was so swollen and blackened around the -broken ribs, that the surgeons thought that the neglected -wound might very possibly have caused his death, if he had -come unharmed through the battle of June 18.</p> - -<p>Such virtues were not incompatible with grave faults. -Picton’s violent language and reckless disregard of common -forms of propriety form the subject of many tales. When -he thought that the assistant engineer who guided the 3rd -Division at the storm of Badajoz had led them astray, he -drew his sword, and with an oath said that he would cut the -blind fool down if he had gone wrong. This we have on -the first-hand evidence of that officer, who was fortunately -able to demonstrate that the right path had been taken.<a id="FNanchor_117" href="#Footnote_117" class="fnanchor">117</a> -A better-known tale is that of Picton and the commissary, -a story which has also been attributed to Craufurd, and -recently by Mr. Fortescue to General Sherbrooke. The commissary -had been ordered, during one of Wellington’s long -marches, to have the rations of the 3rd Division ready at a -certain spot at a certain hour. They were not forthcoming, -but only a series of excuses, to account for their non-arrival. -Picton grimly pointed to a neighbouring tree and said, -“Well, sir, if you don’t get the rations for my division to -the place mentioned by twelve o’clock to-morrow, I will -hang you on it at half-past.” The commissary rode -straight to Lord Wellington and complained, with much -injured dignity, of the general’s violent and ungentlemanly -language. His lordship coolly remarked, “Oh, he said -that he’d <em>hang</em> you, did he?” “Yes, my lord.” “Well, -General Picton is a man of his word. I think you’d better -get the rations up in time.” Further advice was unnecessary; -the rations were there to the moment.<a id="FNanchor_118" href="#Footnote_118" class="fnanchor">118</a> It is -odd to find that many years after Picton’s death a question<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">137</span> -was asked in Parliament, and a controversy raged in the -newspapers, as to which of three named commissaries was -the object of Picton’s anger.</p> - -<p>It would be wrong, however, to paint Picton as a mere -vial of wrath, foaming into ungovernable rage in and out -of season. When he was angry he generally had good -cause; it was only the over-vehemence of his language -that caused him to become a centre of legends. Odd as it -may seem, the rank and file did not consider him a tyrant; -it was acknowledged that he was very just, that he never -punished without hearing the defence, that he was capable -of pardoning, that when he hit hard he did so not without -reason. A sergeant of the 45th wrote on him thus: “He -was strict sometimes, especially about plunder, always -talking about how wrong it was to plunder the poor people -because countries happened to be at war. He used to -flog the men when they were found out; but where he -flogged, many generals took life. Besides this, the men -thought that he had their welfare at heart. Every soldier -in the division knew that if he had anything to complain -of, ‘Old Picton’ would listen to his story, and set him -right if he could. On the whole, our fellows always thought -him a <em>kind</em> general, in spite of his strong language.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Picton and Wellington</div> - -<p>This same sense of justice is brought out in the diaries -of several officers, who speak in feeling terms of his endeavours -to get obscure merit rewarded, and to keep -down jobbery in promotion,<a id="FNanchor_119" href="#Footnote_119" class="fnanchor">119</a> or tyranny of senior officers -over their juniors. He was very accessible, and even -friendly and considerate, to his subordinates. This familiarity, -which endeared him to subalterns, was (as we have -already noticed) not agreeable to Lord Wellington. Their -intercourse was formal and not very frequent. Wellington -once went out of his way to say that it was not true that he -had ever had a quarrel with Picton, or been on anything -but good terms with him. But while acknowledging his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">138</span> -services, he never pretended that he had any personal liking -for him.</p> - -<p>Picton always thought that he suffered grave injustice -at the end of the war, by not being included in the list of -five Peninsular officers who were made peers for their -services. “If the coronet were lying on the crown of a -breach, I should have as good a chance as any of them,” -was his caustic remark. The explanation formally given -for his omission was that all the five generals honoured, -Beresford, Hill, Graham, Hope, and Stapleton Cotton, -had held for some time “distinct commands,” and that -Picton had not. But though this explanation held good -for the first three, it did not really cover the cases of Hope -and Cotton, whose independent commands had been little -more than nominal; and Picton had on several occasions—notably -in the Pyrenees—exercised independent authority -in a very similar way. The fact was that he was an unpopular -man, and that the Ministry omitted him, while -Wellington made no effort to push his claims. He showed -his displeasure by announcing his intention to retire from -the army in 1814, and would have done so in the next year, -if Napoleon’s return from Elba had not called him into the -field, to die at Waterloo.</p> - -<p>To finish our sketch of this curious and contradictory -character, we must mention that Picton was a profound -despiser of all sorts of pomp and ceremony. His dress, -except on gala days, was careless and often unmilitary. -He fought Quatre-Bras, as several witnesses remarked, in -a tall beaver hat, and in the Vittoria campaign, because he -was suffering from his eyes, wore a very broad-brimmed -variety of the same type. His aide-de-camps copied him, -as was natural, in their disregard for appearance, and it is -said that from their manners and dress they were known -as “the bear and ragged staff,”<a id="FNanchor_120" href="#Footnote_120" class="fnanchor">120</a> a term that has been -applied on several more recent occasions to similar -parties.</p> - -<div id="ip_138" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 28.3125em;"><p><i>PLATE IV.</i></p> -<img src="images/i_138.jpg" width="453" height="600" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p><span class="smcap">General Sir Thomas Picton, K.C.B.</span></p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">139</span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">General Robert Craufurd</div> - -<p>A very different man from Sir Thomas Picton was the -last of the divisional generals whose character we have to -deal with, Robert Craufurd. They were both effective -weapons in the hands of Wellington, but Picton’s efficiency -was rather that of the battering ram, while Craufurd’s -was rather that of the rapier. Robert Craufurd, like -Picton, came to the Peninsula as rather a disappointed -man, his grievance being that, despite much brilliant service, -he had dropped behind in promotion, and found himself a -junior brigadier-general, when men several years his junior, -like Hill, Beresford, and Wellington himself, were holding -posts of much greater importance. Craufurd was one of -our few scientific soldiers; he had studied so far back as -1782 the tactics of the army of Frederic the Great at Berlin, -and had translated into English the official Prussian treatise -on the Art of War. His knowledge of German, which -none other of Wellington’s officers save Graham possessed, -had caused him, in 1794, to be given the important post of -military attaché with the Austrian Army in the Netherlands, -and afterwards on the Rhine, and he followed Coburg and -the Archduke Charles for three years through a series of -campaigns, in which failure was much more frequent than -success. When the war broke out once more between -Austria and the French republic, he was again sent in 1799 -to serve with his old friends, and accompanied the headquarters -of General Hotze’s army in Switzerland, till he was -called off to share in the Duke of York’s ill-managed invasion -of Holland in the end of the same year. Like -Graham, therefore, Craufurd had the sorrow of witnessing -a long series of disasters, for which he was not in the least -responsible. As his reports and dispatches show, he discharged -his duty with zeal and excellent capacity; but his -sarcastic tongue and violent temper seem to have stood in the -way of his promotion. A major in 1794, after thirteen years’ -service, he was still only a lieutenant-colonel in 1801, and -during these years had seen numberless comrades climb -over his head, though he had all the while been discharging<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">140</span> -important duties in a fashion which won the admiration of -all with whom he came into personal contact. It looks as -if the constant reports of disaster, which he had to make, -had connected his name in official circles with the notion -of ill-luck. In 1801, disappointed of an official post in -Ireland for which he had applied, he went on half-pay, -and entered Parliament as member for a pocket-borough -which chanced to be in his brother’s gift.<a id="FNanchor_121" href="#Footnote_121" class="fnanchor">121</a> For the next -five years he was a constant speaker in Parliament on -military topics, and a very bitter critic of the policy of -Pitt, Dundas, and Addington. His views as to the proper -organization of the British forces, in first and second line, -for the beating off of French invasion were set forth at -vast length, and always clashed with those of ministers. -It is only fair to say that he was in the main right, and they -wrong; he pleaded for the reduction of the numberless -ill-disciplined volunteer corps, and wished to see in the -first line a very large regular army raised for short service, -and behind it the second line, levied by conscription, as a -sort of <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">levée en masse</i> trained for irregular fighting, and not -expected to manœuvre or to take part in pitched battles. -Craufurd’s virulent criticism was very telling, but hardly -likely to help his promotion as a military man, so long as -the Addington and Pitt ministries were in power. When, -however, Pitt died, and the Whig administration called -“All the Talents” came into power, the new War Secretary, -William Windham, was disposed to do everything possible -for Craufurd, who was not only his personal friend, but -often advised him on matters of organization and technical -military subjects.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Craufurd at Buenos Ayres</div> - -<p>At last, after five years spent in rather acrid parliamentary -criticism, Craufurd was given an opportunity by -his friend Windham to see service in a higher post than -had ever before fallen to his lot. Though only just<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">141</span> -promoted to a full colonelcy, he was given the command of -a brigade of 4000 men, destined for a distant expedition. -This adventure was one of the most hare-brained of the -many futile schemes of the unlucky cabinet then in power. -Craufurd was to take in hand nothing less than a voyage round -Cape Horn, for the conquest of Chili! He never saw the -straits of Magellan, however, for his force, after it had sailed, -was distracted to form part of the unhappy armament -under General Whitelocke, which made the disastrous -attack on Buenos Ayres in 1807. Placed in the front, -in command of Whitelocke’s Light Brigade, and thrust -forward into the tangle of streets among which the incapable -general dispersed his troops in many small columns, Craufurd -fought his way so far on that he was surrounded, cut -off from the main body, and compelled to capitulate with -the remnants of his men. Thus his first chance of distinction -in the field, at the head of a considerable force, -ended in absolute disaster. He was acquitted of all blame -at Whitelocke’s court-martial, but the thought that he was -remembered as the officer who had surrendered a British -brigade rankled in his mind, and sat heavy on his soul -down to the end of his life.</p> - -<p>The fact that he was held blameless, however, was -marked by his appointment to the command of a brigade -in the Peninsular Army in 1808. But his usual ill-luck -seemed at first to attend him. He arrived too late for -Vimeiro; when serving under Moore he was detached -from the main army, and did not fight at Corunna. In -the next year, returning to serve under Wellesley, he was -late for Talavera, though to reach the battlefield he -made his well-remembered march of forty-three miles in -twenty-six hours, which Napier, by a slip of memory, -has converted into an impossible achievement—a march -of sixty-two miles in that time, which not even Craufurd -and the famous 43rd, 52nd, and 95th could have accomplished.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Craufurd and the Light Division</div> - -<p>From 1809 onward Craufurd at last got his chance, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">142</span> -for the greater part of three years<a id="FNanchor_122" href="#Footnote_122" class="fnanchor">122</a> was in command of -Wellington’s advance, his “Light Brigade” of 1809 becoming -the “Light Division” in 1810. At length he got what Fate -had denied him in all his earlier career, a post of great -distinction and responsibility, and a sight of victory; for -fifteen years he had been witnessing nothing but retreats -and disasters. On his happy days, and they were many, -Craufurd was undoubtedly the most brilliant lieutenant -that Wellington ever owned. Yet he was not trusted by -his chief as Hill, for example, was trusted, because of -his occasional lapses from caution, and from the blind -obedience which his chief exacted. Occasionally he -took risks, or ventured to modify the orders given -him—the faults of an eager and ambitious spirit in an hour -of excitement.</p> - -<p>His achievements were great and noble. The most -splendid of them was the protection of the north-east -frontier of Portugal throughout the whole spring and summer -of 1810, when he was set with his own small division and -two regiments of cavalry to lie out many miles in front of -the main army, and to watch the assembling host of -Masséna, till the moment when it should make its forward -move for serious invasion. For five months he guarded a -long front against an enemy of sixfold force, without -allowing his line to be pierced, or suffering the French to -gain any information as to what was going on in his rear. -This was a great feat, only accomplished by the most -complete and minute organization of his very modest -resources. There were fifteen fords along the Agueda, -the river whose line he had to keep, all of which had to be -watched in dry weather, and many even when the stream -was high. The French had 3000 cavalry opposite him in -March and April, 5000 in May and June, the latter a force -exceeding in numbers the total of his whole division.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">143</span> -Behind the hostile cavalry screen he knew that there were -two full army corps, or over 40,000 men; and many -detachments of this infantry lay only four or five miles from -Craufurd’s outposts, and might attack him at any moment. -Yet he never suffered any surprise; so well were his observation-posts -placed and managed, that the least movement of -the enemy was reported to him in an incredibly short -time. The whole web of communications quivered at the -slightest touch, and the Light Division was concentrated -ready to fight or to retreat, as prudence dictated, long -before the attack could develop. So wonderfully had he -trained his troops that any battalion, as Napier records, was -ready under arms within seven minutes from the first alarm -signal, and within a quarter of an hour could be in order of -battle on its appointed post, with its baggage loaded and -assembled ready for departure at a convenient distance -to the rear.</p> - -<p>As his aide-de-camp, Shaw Kennedy, the historian of -this summer, writes, “To understand Craufurd’s operations -the <em>calculation</em> must never be lost sight of, for it was on -calculation that he acted all along.” Special reports were -made of the numerous fords of the Agueda <em>every</em> morning, -and the rapidity of its rises was periodically marked. -Beacons were placed on conspicuous heights, so as to -communicate information as to the enemy’s offensive -movements. To ensure against mistakes in the night, -pointers were kept at the stations of communication, -directed to the beacons. The cavalry regiment at the -outposts was the first Hussars of the King’s German -Legion, a veteran corps, chosen because its officers were -considered superior in scouting power to that of any other -light cavalry unit with the army. Craufurd, knowing -German well, communicated with each of its squadron -leaders directly; each knew his own duty for the front that -he covered, and each worked out his part admirably. The -general was untiring, could remain on horseback unwearied -for almost any length of time, and knew personally every<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">144</span> -ford, defile, and by-path. Hence nothing was left to -chance.<a id="FNanchor_123" href="#Footnote_123" class="fnanchor">123</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Craufurd and Wellington</div> - -<p>It was a pity that Craufurd ended this splendid piece -of service, which lasted over five months of daily danger, -by fighting the unnecessary “Combat of the Coa” on -July 4, 1810. Staying a day too long beyond that stream -despite of Wellington’s clear direction to retire the moment -that he was hard pressed, he was suddenly attacked by the -whole of Ney’s corps, 20,000 men or more, and forced over -the Coa, with loss which might have been great but for the -excellence of the battalions he had trained and the cool-headed -tactical skill of his regimental officers. He held the -bridge of the Coa successfully when he had crossed it, and lost -no more than 300 men; but he had disobeyed orders and -risked his division. Wellington was justly displeased, and -let his lieutenant know it. But he did not rebuke him in -his dispatches, and continued him in his command. He -wrote home in a confidential letter, “You will say, ‘Why -not accuse Craufurd?’ I answer, ‘Because if I am to be -hanged for it, I cannot accuse a man who meant well, and -whose error was one of judgment, not of intention.’” -But for the future he kept Craufurd nearer to himself, and -did not place him so far away that he had much chance of -trying strategical experiments on his own responsibility. -Even so, there were other occasions on which the general’s -proneness to think for himself got him into trouble. One -was on September 25, 1811, on the day of the combat of -El Bodon, when Craufurd, thrown forward into a hazardous -position by his chief’s orders, was twelve hours late in -joining the main army. He had been told to make a night -march, but waited till dawn, because he was moving in -a difficult and broken country full of ravines and torrents, -where he judged that movement in the dark was dangerous. -By his delay the army was concentrated half a day later<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">145</span> -than Wellington intended. “I am glad to see you safe,” -observed the Commander-in-Chief with some asperity, as -the Light Division filed into the scantily manned position -at Fuente Guinaldo. “Oh, I was in no danger, I assure -you.” “But <em>I</em> was, from your conduct,” answered Wellington. -Whereupon Craufurd remarked to his staff, “He’s -d——d crusty to-day.”<a id="FNanchor_124" href="#Footnote_124" class="fnanchor">124</a> In this case it must be remarked, -in justice to Craufurd, that it was his chief who had placed -him in the hazardous position, not himself, and that his -judgment that the night march was impracticable was very -probably correct. But he had disobeyed an order, and it -was remembered against him by the inflexible Wellington.</p> - -<p>Against these lapses must be set a long career of careful -and scientific soldiering, with movements of brilliant -manœuvring, and sudden strokes, in which no other Peninsular -general could vie with him. The repulse of Ney’s corps -at Bussaco was perhaps the most glorious exploit of Craufurd -and his Light Division. The way in which the French -on this occasion were detained and harassed by light -troops, and then, just as they reached the crest of the -position, charged and swept downhill by the rush of a -much inferior force, launched at the right moment, was a -beautiful example of tactics. The most astonishing part -of it was that, by his careful choice of a position, and -judicious concealment of his line till the critical minute, -Craufurd beat his enemy with hardly any loss; he had -only 177 casualties, the French opposed to him over 1200. -Yet there was another feat which, though less showy, was -probably an even greater example of tactical skill than the -stroke at Bussaco. This was the advance and retreat of -the Light Division at Fuentes de Oñoro (May 5, 1811), -when Craufurd was sent out of the main British position -to rescue the 7th Division, which was cut off and nearly -surrounded by an overwhelming force of French cavalry. -Having disengaged the compromised division, Craufurd<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">146</span> -had to retreat back to the main body with five brigades -of fine cavalry, aided by horse artillery, surging round him -on all sides, and seeking for an opportunity to burst in. -To retreat in square across two miles of open plateau, very -well adapted for the action of horsemen, was a delicate -and dangerous task. Yet Craufurd achieved it with perfect -security, and brought in his whole division to Wellington’s -position with a loss of less than fifty men. As an exhibition -of nerve and skill it even exceeded Picton’s retreat at El -Bodon, for the French horse on this occasion were more -numerous, and flushed with previous success, and the Light -Division was a smaller body than the 3rd division by 4000 -men to 5200. The distance covered, however, during the -crisis of retreat at Fuentes was much shorter, only two miles -to seven at El Bodon.</p> - -<p>Craufurd fell in action before 1812 was many days old, -being killed by a chance shot while watching and directing -the storm of the lesser breach at Ciudad Rodrigo from the -further side of the glacis (January 19). Otherwise his -peculiar talents would no doubt have been exhibited in -commanding the rear-guard during the retreat from Burgos, -and the advance during the campaign of Vittoria. The -character of the fighting in the Pyrenees would also have -suited admirably his particular style of management. He -was bitterly missed by his officers, Charles Alten, his -successor in command of the Light Division being a general -of much more pedestrian quality,<a id="FNanchor_125" href="#Footnote_125" class="fnanchor">125</a> who might never fail to -make an attempt to obey Wellington’s orders to the best -of his ability, but could never supplement them by any -improvisation of his own, of which he was incapable. The -operations of the Light Division after Craufurd’s death were -always admirable so far as the conduct of officers and men -went, but there was no longer any genius in the way in which -they were led.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">147</span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Craufurd’s Faults</div> - -<p>Craufurd, unlike Hill or Graham, and like his rival -Picton, had many enemies. He was a strict disciplinarian, -to his officers even more than to his men, and had a quick -temper and a caustic tongue. His anger used to vent -itself not in bursts of swearing, such as Picton would indulge -in, but by well-framed and lucid speeches of bitter -sarcasm, which probably gave more offence than any -amount of oaths. Being a highly educated man, and a -practised parliamentary speaker, he could put an amount -of polished contempt into a rebuke which was not easily -forgotten. It was probably this trick that made enemies -of the Napiers, both of whom speak very bitterly of him -in their diaries and other writings, though William Napier -in his history gives him the due credit for his many brilliant -achievements.<a id="FNanchor_126" href="#Footnote_126" class="fnanchor">126</a> Several others of his officers speak bitterly -of his intellectual arrogance; one calls him a “tyrant”; -another says that he never forgot a grudge. But he had -no fewer friends than enemies; many of the best of his subordinates, -like Shaw Kennedy and Campbell, loved him well, -and (what is more surprising) the rank and file, on whom -his wrath often fell in the form of the lash, felt not only -confidence but enthusiasm for him. The best of all his -eulogies comes from a 95th man, Rifleman Harris, and is -well worth quoting, for its simple manliness.</p> - -<p>“I do not think I ever admired any man who wore the -British uniform more than I did General Craufurd. I -could fill a book with descriptions of him, for I frequently -had my eye upon him in the hurry of action. The Rifles -liked him, but they feared him, for he could be terrible -when insubordination showed itself in the ranks. ‘You -think because you are riflemen that you may do whatever -you think proper,’ said he one day to the miserable and -savage crew around him on the retreat to Corunna; ‘but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">148</span> -I’ll teach you the difference before I have done with you.’ -I remember one evening during that retreat he detected -two men straying away from the main body; it was in -an early stage of that disastrous flight, and Craufurd knew -that he must keep his division together. He halted the -brigade with a voice of thunder, ordered a drum-head -court-martial on the instant, and they were sentenced to -a hundred a-piece. While the hasty trial was taking place, -Craufurd, dismounting from his horse, stood in the midst, -looking stern and angry as a worried bulldog. He did not -like retreating, that man.</p> - -<p>“When the trial was over, it was too dark to inflict -the punishment. He marched all night on foot, and when -morning dawned his hair, beard, and eyebrows were covered -with the frost; we were all in the same condition. Scarcely -had dawn appeared when the general called a halt, among -the snow on the hills. Ordering a square to be formed, he -spoke to the brigade.</p> - -<p>“‘Although I shall obtain the good will neither of the -officers nor of the men here by so doing, I am resolved to -punish those men according to the sentence awarded, even -though the French are at our heels. Begin with Daniel -Howans.’</p> - -<p>“The men were brought out, and their Lieutenant-Colonel, -Hamilton Wade, at the same time stepped forward, -and lowering his sword, requested he would forgive these -men, as they were both of them good soldiers, who had -fought in all the battles of Portugal. ‘I order <em>you</em>, sir,’ -said the general, ‘to do your duty. These men shall be -punished.’ After seventy-five lashes, Craufurd stopped the -flogging. But before he put the brigade in motion again, -he gave us another short address, pretty much after this -<span class="locked">style—</span></p> - -<p>“‘I give you all notice that I shall halt the brigade -again the very first moment I perceive any man disobeying -my orders, and try him by court-martial on the spot.’ He -then gave the word, and we resumed our march.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">149</span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Craufurd’s Severity</div> - -<p>“Many who read this may suppose that it was a cruel -and unnecessary severity, under the dreadful and harassing -circumstances of that retreat: but I, who was there, a -common soldier in the regiment to which these men belonged, -say that it was quite necessary. No man but one formed -of stuff like General Craufurd could have saved the brigade -from perishing altogether. If he flogged two, he saved -hundreds from death by his management.”</p> - -<p>There was a curious anecdote concerning Craufurd’s -funeral published in the <cite>Saturday Review</cite> lately,<a id="FNanchor_127" href="#Footnote_127" class="fnanchor">127</a> from the -unpublished reminiscences of a contemporary, which illustrates -well enough the reverence with which the Light -Division looked upon its old chief. One of his strongest -principles had been that troops on the march must never -make a detour to avoid fordable streams or deep mud, nor -break their ranks to allow each man to pick shallow water, -or hard stones among the wet. The delay so caused was, -he held, such a hindrance to rapid movement that it must -not be allowed. He had been known to flog men who -straggled from the ranks in the water, in order to fill their -bottles, or to stoop down to take a long drink.<a id="FNanchor_128" href="#Footnote_128" class="fnanchor">128</a> He had -even caused an officer, whom he caught evading a wetting -by riding pick-a-back upon his soldier-servant, to be set -down with a splash in the middle of a stream.<a id="FNanchor_129" href="#Footnote_129" class="fnanchor">129</a> Coming -back from Craufurd’s funeral, the leading company of the -Light Division passed by an excavation at the rear of the -siege works, half-filled by mud and water. Instead of -turning its end to avoid the wet, the men looked at the -inundation, pulled themselves together, and marched -straight through it, with great regularity and steadiness, -as if they were passing before a general officer at a review. -The whole division followed through the slush. It seemed -to them that the best testimony to their old commander’s -memory was to honour his best-known theory, when he was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">150</span> -no longer there to enforce its acceptance by his usual -drastic methods.</p> - -<p>I could write much more of this notable character, with -all its faults and merits. But so much must suffice. Nor -have I space to tell of the other senior generals of the -Peninsular War, though some of them, such as Leith and -Cole, were great fighting men, just the tools that suited -Wellington’s hand. They were, however, never trusted -with independent commands, so that it is impossible to -judge of their full mental stature. I should be inclined to -think very highly of Cole from his conduct at Albuera, for -it was he who ordered, on his own responsibility, without -any permission from Beresford, the famous advance of the -Fusilier Brigade and Harvey’s Portuguese, which turned -into a victory that most perilous battle.<a id="FNanchor_130" href="#Footnote_130" class="fnanchor">130</a> But of most -of Wellington’s divisional officers we can only say that they -were competent for the task set them—the vigorous carrying -out of orders which were given them, but in whose -framing they had no part. At the most, tactical skill in -execution can be attributed to them, and of this there -was no lack, as witness details of Salamanca, Vittoria, and -the scattered fighting in the Pyrenees. Almost as much -can be predicated of some of the great brigadiers, who -managed their details well, but never had the chance of -showing their full powers. It would be easy to make a -long list of them; at least Kempt, Pack, Barns, Mackinnon, -Colborne, Hay, Lumley, Ross, Halkett, Byng, Pakenham, -Beckwith, and Barnard should be included in the list. -Some of them died or were invalided early, others commanded -brigades at Waterloo again, but none, save Byng, -of this string of names, was ever given permanent command -of a division, though several of them had held the interim -charge of one in the Peninsula, when their regular chiefs -were sick or absent. Ross and Pakenham alone were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">151</span> -promoted to a separate command, both in America. The -former had charge of the expedition which went to the -Potomac and Chesapeake in 1813–14; he took Washington -by a vigorous stroke, but fell in action shortly after, while -conducting an attack on Baltimore, which ceased when he -fell. Pakenham’s expedition to New Orleans was a series -of misfortunes, of which some part at least must be attributed -to his own fault. It is certain that Wellington never -trained a general who proved himself a first-rate exponent -of the art of war; but his system (as we have said above) -was not calculated to foster initiative or self-reliance among -his lieutenants.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Some Unsatisfactory Subordinates</div> - -<p>Other subordinates Wellington possessed, of whom we -can say that they were not up to their work, even in the -carrying out of the orders given them with common self-reliance -and clear-headedness. Such were Spencer and -Slade, who were only capable of going forward to carry -out a definite order; it was necessary, so to speak, that -they should simply be put like trams on a line, and shoved -forward, or they would slacken the pace and come to a -stop, from want of initiative and moving power. Some -few, like Sir William Erskine, who was Wellington’s pet -aversion—yet irremovable because of the political influence -that backed him—were positively dangerous from a combination -of short-sightedness, carelessness, and self-will. -In one dispatch Wellington says that he thinks that he -is a little wrong in his head.<a id="FNanchor_131" href="#Footnote_131" class="fnanchor">131</a> It is astounding that after -Erskine’s mistakes at Casal Novo and Sabugal, Wellington -did not get rid of him at all costs; but he simply tried to -shunt him on to commands where it was unlikely that he -could do much harm, and continued solemnly to rehearse -his name with approval in his dispatches, along with those -of all other officers of his rank, till the unfortunate man -committed suicide, in a moment of insanity, in the interval -between the campaigns of 1812 and 1813. This was the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">152</span> -strongest case of difficulty which Wellington, for reasons -of politics and patronage at home, did not care to face by -the decisive step of sending home the general in disgrace. -But there were several brigadier-generals whom he had not -asked for, whom he disliked, and whose departure from the -Peninsula he saluted with a small psalm of thanksgiving in -his private letters.<a id="FNanchor_132" href="#Footnote_132" class="fnanchor">132</a> It is certainly astonishing that, even -after 1811, he was not given a free hand to get rid of subordinates -whom he knew to be incompetent or recalcitrant, -any more than he was given the power to promote officers -without a tedious reference to the Horse Guards. It is -true that in the later years of the war his recommendations -were generally (but not always) carried out; yet it took -whole months for a request made in a letter from Salamanca -or Madrid to reach London, to be there acceded to, and -then to take effect by a publication of the <cite>Gazette</cite>. The -power to punish or reward with promptness was never -granted; there was always a long delay. And both -punishment and reward lose much of their salutary effect -when there is an interval of months between the act and its -consequence. Napoleon had a unique advantage in being -at once the commander-in-chief and the dispenser of -favours and chastisement; with him there was no time lost -in lengthy reference to a home government.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">153</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_VIII" class="vspace">CHAPTER VIII<br /> - -<span class="subhead">THE ORGANIZATION OF THE ARMY: HEADQUARTERS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Having dealt with the greater personalities among Wellington’s -lieutenants, it remains that we should speak of the -organization by which his army was set in motion.</p> - -<p>Some great commanders have trusted much to their -staff, and have kept their ablest subordinates about their -person. This was pre-eminently not the case with Wellington: -he was as averse to providing himself with a regular -chief-of-the-staff, as he was to allowing a formal second-in-command -to accompany his army. The duties which -would, according to modern ideas, fall to the chief-of-the-staff, -were by him divided between three officers, one of -whom was of quite junior standing, and only one of whom -held a higher rank than that of colonel. These officers were -the Military Secretary, the Quartermaster-General, and the -Adjutant-General.</p> - -<p>The Military Secretary was merely responsible for the -correct drawing out, and the transmission to the proper -person or department, of the correspondence of the commander-in-chief. -The post was held from April 27, 1809, -to September 19, 1810, by Lieutenant-Colonel Bathurst, of -the 60th. On the last-named date he went home on leave, -and Captain Lord Fitzroy Somerset was given the status -of acting-secretary, and confirmed as actual secretary three -months later on January 1, 1811. This officer, better -remembered by his later title as the Lord Raglan of the -Crimean War, held the office till the end of the war—by -which time he had reached the rank of colonel. He was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">154</span> -one of Wellington’s best-trusted subordinates, and his -personal friend, but being very young, and junior in rank -to all heads of departments, he was in no sense an appreciable -factor in Wellington’s conduct of the war. In fact, he was -nothing more than his title of secretary indicated, and was -in no way responsible for organization, or entitled to offer -advice.</p> - -<p>Much more important were the two great heads of -departments, the Quartermaster-General and Adjutant-General. -The former was charged with all matters relating -to the embarkation or disembarkation, the equipment, -quartering, halting, encamping, and route-marching of the -various units of the army. He had to convey to all generals -in command of them the orders of the general-in-chief, -and for this purpose had under his control a number of -officers bearing the clumsy titles of assistant-quartermaster-generals, -and deputy-assistant-quartermaster-generals. Of -the former there were five, of the latter seven, when the -army was first organized in April, 1809, but their numbers -were continually increasing all through the war, for each unit -had an assistant-quartermaster-general and a deputy-assistant-quartermaster-general -attached to it, and as the -divisions and brigades grew in number, so did the officers -of the Quartermaster-General’s department told off to them. -There was also a parallel growth in the number of those who -remained at headquarters, directly attached to their chief.</p> - -<p>There is an interesting minute by Wellington, laying -down the relations between the divisional generals and the -staff-officers of the department: he points out that, though -the latter are the organs of headquarters in dealing with -divisions, yet they are under the command of the divisional -general: and the responsibility both for the orders given -through them being carried out, and for their acts in -general, lies with the division-commander. “Every staff -officer,” he says, “must be considered as acting under the -direct orders and superintendence of the superior officer -for whose assistance he is employed, and who is responsible<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">155</span> -for his acts. To consider the relative situation of the -general officer and the staff officer in any other light, would -tend to alter the nature of the Service, and, in fact, might -give the command of the troops to a subaltern staff officer -instead of to their general officer.”<a id="FNanchor_133" href="#Footnote_133" class="fnanchor">133</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Quartermaster-General</div> - -<p>The officers of the Quartermaster-General’s department, -besides their duties with regard to the moving of the army, -or the detachments of it, had often to undertake independent -work at a distance from headquarters, and sometimes -remote from the theatre of war. It was they who made -topographical surveys, reports on roads and bridges, and -on the resources of districts through which the army might -have to move in the near or distant future. There was -issued early in 1810 a little manual called <cite>Instructions for -the officers in the department of the Quartermaster-General</cite> -which was given to all its members: it contains a selection -of orders and forms, relating to every possible duty with -which its recipients might be entrusted. The most interesting -section is that on topographical surveys, to which there -is annexed a model report of the road from Truxillo to -Merida, containing notes on everything which a staff officer -ought to notice,—positions, defiles, size of villages, character -of sections of the road, amount of corn-land as opposed -to pasture or waste, warnings as to unhealthy spots, notes -as to the depth of rivers and the practicability of fords, etc.</p> - -<p>So far as I can ascertain, Wellington had only two -Quartermaster-Generals during the whole of the long period -of his supreme command. Colonel George Murray of the -3rd Guards held the post from April, 1809, to May 28, -1812: he must be carefully distinguished from two other -Murrays, who sometimes turn up in the dispatches. One -is Major-General John Murray, who commanded a brigade -in the Oporto campaign, went home because he considered -that Beresford had been unjustly promoted over his head, -and came out later to the Peninsula on the Catalan side, -where he was responsible for the mismanaged operations<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">156</span> -about Tarragona. The other is John Murray, the Commissary-General. -When Wellington sometimes uses such -a phrase in his dispatches as “Murray knows this,” or “see -that Murray is informed,” it is often most difficult to be sure -which of the three men is meant. Early in 1811 Colonel -George Murray became a major-general, and in the following -May he appears to have gone home. He was replaced as -Quartermaster-General by Colonel James Gordon—who, -again, must not be confused with Colonel Sir Alexander -Gordon, who was one of Wellington’s senior aides-de-camp, -and was killed at Waterloo. This is another of the confusions -between homonyms which often give trouble. If a -diarist speaks of “Colonel Gordon” we have to find which -of the two is meant. James Gordon, having acted as -quartermaster-general from May, 1811, to January, 1813, -went home, and George Murray, returning early in that -year, worked out the remaining fifteen months of the war -in his old position.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Adjutant-General</div> - -<p>Parallel with the Quartermaster-General was the other -great departmental chief at headquarters, the Adjutant-General, -whose sphere of activity was disciplinary and -statistical. He was charged with all the detail of duties -to be distributed, with the collecting and compiling for the -use of the commander-in-chief of all returns of men and -horses in “morning states,” etc., with the supreme supervision -of the discipline of the army, and with much official -correspondence that did not pass to the Military Secretary. -Roughly speaking, the internal condition of the troops fell -to his share, while their movement belonged to the Quartermaster-General. -He had to aid him on the first organization -of the army in 1809, eight assistant-adjutant-generals and six -deputy-assistant-adjutant-generals, but (as in the Quartermaster-General’s -department) the number of subordinates -mounted up, as the war went on, and new units were from -time to time created, since an assistant-adjutant-general -was attached to each division.</p> - -<p>The first holder of the office was Major-General the Hon.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">157</span> -Charles Stewart (afterwards Lord Londonderry, the earliest -historian of the Peninsular War), who was discharging its -functions from April, 1809, till April, 1813, just four years. -He was then sent on a diplomatic mission to Berlin, and -Wellington offered the post to his own brother-in-law, -Major-General Edward Pakenham, who, while in charge of -the 3rd division, had made the decisive charge at Salamanca. -Pakenham was adjutant-general for the last year of the -war, April, 1813, to April, 1814, and went straight out from -Bordeaux to command the unlucky New Orleans expedition, -in which he lost his life.</p> - -<p>It will be noted that Wellington had actually only two -Quartermaster-Generals and two Adjutant-Generals under -him during the five years of his Peninsular command—a -sufficient proof that when he had found his man he stuck -to him. Charles Stewart, who served him so long, was a -person of some political importance, as the brother and -confidant of Lord Castlereagh. In the early part of his -tenure of office he seems sometimes to have made suggestions -to his chief, but met little encouragement, for Wellington -loved his own way, and was not to be influenced even by his -own highest staff officers.<a id="FNanchor_134" href="#Footnote_134" class="fnanchor">134</a> He did not wish to have a -Gneisenau or a Moltke at his side: he only wanted zealous -and competent chief clerks.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Minor Heads of Departments</div> - -<p>Attached to headquarters in addition to the three great -functionaries already named, were the heads of several other -departments of great importance. These <span class="locked">were—</span></p> - -<p>(1) The general officer commanding the Royal Artillery, -who had a general supervisory charge of the batteries -attached to the divisions, and a more specific control of -the battering-train and reserve artillery, when these came -into existence in 1811, as well as of the ammunition columns. -The first artillery chief was Brigadier-General E. Howarth, -who arrived at Lisbon in 1809, about the same time as -Wellington himself. He was promoted major-general in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">158</span> -1811, and went home that year. The command then went -through a rapid succession of hands. Howarth was followed -by Major-General Borthwick, who apparently crossed -Wellington, and went home in March, 1812, after less than -a year’s tenure of the post. Borthwick was succeeded by -Colonel H. Framingham, and he within a few months by -Colonel G. B. Fisher, who (like Borthwick) fell out with -the commander-in-chief, and applied for leave to go home -ere 1813 was six months old. Wellington then appointed -Colonel Alexander Dickson to the command late in May. -This officer had been for the last two years in charge of the -Portuguese artillery under Beresford. He had given such -satisfaction at Rodrigo and Badajoz that Wellington re-transferred -him to the British service, and finished the -campaign of 1814 with Dickson in chief charge of this -branch.</p> - -<p>(2) After the artillery chief we encounter as a prominent -figure at headquarters the commanding officer of Royal -Engineers. He had the superintending duty over his own -staff and the engineer officers attached to the divisions, and -control over the “Royal Military Artificers,” as the rank -and file of the scientific corps were named till 1812, when they -changed their title to Royal Sappers and Miners.<a id="FNanchor_135" href="#Footnote_135" class="fnanchor">135</a> The -commanding engineer had also charge over the engineers’ -park and the pontoon train. The officer who held this post -from 1809 till he was killed at St. Sebastian in September, -1813, was Colonel Richard Fletcher, who has left a fame -behind him as the designer of the Lines of Torres Vedras. -On his death the command fell to Lieut.-Colonel Elphinstone, -who was responsible for the celebrated bridge of boats -across the mouth of the Adour which made the siege of -Bayonne possible in 1814.</p> - -<p>(3, 4) At headquarters were also to be found the officers -commanding the Staff Corps Cavalry, and the Corps of -Guides. The former, a small unit of some 200 men, created -in 1812, discharged the police duties of the army, and were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">159</span> -worked along with the Provost Marshal. They were occasionally -also employed as orderlies, and in other confidential -positions.<a id="FNanchor_136" href="#Footnote_136" class="fnanchor">136</a> The Guides were a small body also, some -150 or 200 strong, partly British, partly Portuguese, the -latter preponderating. They were detached in twos or -threes, to act as interpreters as well as guides to bodies of -troops moving in country not known to them. For this -reason they had to be bilingual, either English knowing -some Portuguese, or Portuguese knowing some English, as -they had always to be acting as intermediaries between the -army and the peasantry, in making inquiries about roads, -supplies, etc. The officer commanding the Guides had also -the charge of the post office, and the transmission of letters -to and from the front.</p> - -<p>(5) The Provost Marshal was also attached to headquarters: -he had charge of all prisoners to be tried by general -court-martial, of deserters, and prisoners of war. He had -powers of jurisdiction on offenders caught red-handed, but -as Wellington remarks, “Whatever may be the crime of -which a soldier is guilty, the Provost Marshal has not the -power of inflicting summary punishment for it, unless he -should see him in the act of committing it.”<a id="FNanchor_137" href="#Footnote_137" class="fnanchor">137</a> Men -arrested on evidence only, had to be tried by court-martials. -For the better management of these last, Wellington added a -Judge-Advocate-General to his staff in 1812, whose duty -was to see that trials were conducted with proper forms and -due appreciation of the validity of evidence—in which the -commander-in-chief considered that they had often failed. -Mr. Francis Larpent, who has left an interesting diary of -his duties and his personal adventures, discharged the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">160</span> -function of this office from his arrival late in 1812 down to -the end of the war.<a id="FNanchor_138" href="#Footnote_138" class="fnanchor">138</a></p> - -<p>As to aides-de-camp, Wellington kept a very limited -number of them—he only employed some twenty in the -course of the war, and not more than eight or ten at once. -They were nearly all young men of the great political -families,<a id="FNanchor_139" href="#Footnote_139" class="fnanchor">139</a> nearly half of them were Guards’ officers, and -the rest mostly belonged to the cavalry. The Prince of -Orange served among them in 1811–12. None of them, -save Lord Fitzroy Somerset (Lord Raglan) and Colonel -Cadogan, came to any very great military position or -reputation.</p> - -<p>So much for the military side of headquarters. There -were also attached to it seven civil departments, small and -great, of which it may be well to give a list. On one or -two of these we shall have to speak at some length in later -chapters—notably the Commissariat and the Medical -department. They consisted <span class="locked">of—</span></p> - -<p>(1) The Medical Department under an Inspector of -Hospitals, who was in general charge of the physicians, -surgeons, assistants, etc., attached to the various units of -the army. There is an excellent account of the management -of this department, and all its difficulties, in the <cite>Autobiography</cite> -of Sir James McGrigor, chief of the Medical Staff -in 1812–13–14. His predecessor since Wellington’s first -landing in 1809 was Dr. Frank, who was invalided in the -autumn of 1811.</p> - -<p>(2) The Purveyor’s Department was independent of the -medical, though it might well have been attached to it: -the establishment consisted of a Purveyor to the Forces, -with deputies and assistants, who had charge of the hospitals -and all the material and details required for them—from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">161</span> -the drugs for the sick to the burial expenses of the -dead.</p> - -<p>(3) The Paymaster-General, with his assistants, was -responsible for the transmission of the money received to -the regimental paymasters of the various units. He was a -much-worried man, generally from three to six months in -arrears with his specie, from no fault of his own, but from -the immense difficulty of obtaining the hard dollars, doubloons, -and “cruzados novos,” which alone had currency in -the Peninsula till a late period in the war. It was useless -to issue English money to the troops, for the natives would -not accept crowns and guineas, and refused even to look at -the one-pound notes which were almost the sole circulating -medium in Great Britain during this period. It was only -in a late year of the war that the gold guinea was at last -tariffed by the Spanish and Portuguese Governments, and -became readily current.<a id="FNanchor_140" href="#Footnote_140" class="fnanchor">140</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Commissariat</div> - -<p>(4) Most important of all the Civil Departments was -the Commissariat, under the Commissary-General, who had -under him Deputy-Commissary-Generals, Assistant and -Deputy-Assistant-Commissaries, Commissariat Clerks, and -many other subordinates. The department was divided -into two branches, stores and accounts. The post of -Commissary-General was successively held by John Murray -(already mentioned above) from 1809 to June, 1810, by -Kennedy from June, 1810, to September, 1811, and by -Bisset from September, 1811, onward. An assistant commissary -was attached to each brigade of infantry and -each regiment of cavalry, but a single official had to attend -to the needs of the whole of the artillery with the army, -and another to the needs of headquarters.<a id="FNanchor_141" href="#Footnote_141" class="fnanchor">141</a></p> - -<p>The whole future of the army in 1809 depended on -whether the Commissariat Department would be able to -rise to the height of its duties. It was absolutely necessary -that Wellington should be able to keep his army<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">162</span> -concentrated, if this small force of 20,000 or 30,000 men was -to be of any weight in the conduct of the war in the Peninsula. -The much-cursed and criticized Commissariat succeeded in -doing its duty, and the length of time for which the British -army could keep concentrated was the envy of the French, -who, living on the country, were forced to disperse whenever -they had exhausted the resources of the particular region -in which they were massed. In a way this fact was the -key to the whole war. Wellington’s salvation lay in the -fact that he could hold his entire army together, while his -adversaries could not. On this advantage he relied again -and again: his whole strategy depended upon it. How -the Commissariat worked we shall show in a later chapter.</p> - -<p>(5) The Storekeeper-General had charge of the field -equipments, tents, and heavy baggage of the army. Often -the heavy baggage was left at Lisbon, and all through -1809–10–11 no tents were taken to the front. It was only -in the Vittoria and South-French campaigns that the whole -army regularly carried them. In the days when the -transport trains were not fully organized, it was necessary -to leave even valuable impedimenta behind.</p> - -<p>(6) To the Controller of Army Accounts all departments, -save the Commissariat, rendered their statistics of money -received and spent.</p> - -<p>(7) Last, we may name the Press, for a travelling Press -and a small staff of military printers accompanied the -headquarters when possible, and printed general orders, -and other documents and forms, of which many copies -were required. I have seen much of its work at the Record -Office,<a id="FNanchor_142" href="#Footnote_142" class="fnanchor">142</a> but have never come across an account of its organization, -or of any anecdotes of its wandering life, in which it -must have passed through many vicissitudes. The press -was under the general supervision of the Adjutant-General.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">163</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_IX" class="vspace">CHAPTER IX<br /> - -<span class="subhead">THE ORGANIZATION OF THE ARMY: BRIGADES AND DIVISIONS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>It will probably surprise some readers to learn that Sir -Arthur Wellesley fought out the first campaign in which -he held supreme command, that of Oporto in May, 1809, -with no higher organized unit than the brigade. But this -is the fact: the 18,000 infantry of which he could dispose -were distributed into eight brigades of two or three battalions -each, varying in strength from 1400 up to 2500 bayonets. -But Wellesley was not so belated, in failing to form divisions, -as might be thought. They were still rather an abnormal -than a usual unit for a British army: indeed, in the large -majority of the expeditions in which Great Britain had -been engaged since 1793, the numbers were so small that -no unit above the brigade had been necessary. But it is -notable that neither in the Duke of York’s first expedition -to the Netherlands in 1793–94, nor in his second in 1799, -nor in Abercrombie’s Egyptian Campaign of 1801 had -divisions been formed—though in each of these cases a -very large force had been assembled. When several -brigades acted together, not under the immediate eye of -the commander-in-chief, the senior brigadier present took -temporary charge of the assemblage. In the Low Countries -York generally speaks of his army as being divided into -“columns” of two or three brigades each,<a id="FNanchor_143" href="#Footnote_143" class="fnanchor">143</a> but there was no -fixity in the arrangement. Abercrombie, on the other hand, -in the last dispatch which he wrote before his victory and -death at Alexandria, lays down the theoretical organization<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">164</span> -that the army is to be considered as being divided into -three “lines”—the first composed of three brigades, the -second and third of two each. If the <em>word</em> division is used -in any official documents of these campaigns, the term has -no technical military sense, but is used as a vague synonym -for a section or part of the army.<a id="FNanchor_144" href="#Footnote_144" class="fnanchor">144</a> Indeed, so far as I know, -the first British force during the great French War which -was formed into divisions, in the proper modern sense, was -the army which went on the Copenhagen Expedition of -1807, which was regularly distributed into four of such -units, each under a lieutenant-general, and each composed -of two, three, or four weak brigades, generally of only two -battalions. This was a force of some 26,000 men.</p> - -<p>The original Peninsular Army of 1808, which landed at -the mouth of the Mondego, and won the battle of Vimeiro, -was not far, therefore, from being the first British force -organized in divisions. It may be noted that they were -rather theoretical than real, for several brigades had not -yet landed when Vimeiro was fought, and Wellesley, while -in temporary command, worked the incomplete army on a -brigade system: no trace whatever of the use of the -divisions as real units will be found in that battle. Indeed, -even the theoretical composition of some of the brigades -differed from that actually seen in action. No genuine -divisions were formed in the Peninsula, till Sir John Moore -took command of the army from which its old chiefs, Dalrymple, -Burrand and Wellesley himself had been removed -and sent home. We must not, therefore, be surprised -to find that for three months after he landed at Lisbon in -April, 1809, Wellesley worked his 21,000 British troops in -detached brigades, only connected in a formal and temporary -way, under the senior brigadier, when two or more chanced -to form a marching or fighting unit.</p> - -<p>But two other points concerning Wellesley’s Oporto<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">165</span> -campaign deserve notice. This was the first and only -occasion on which he tried the experiment of mixing British -and Portuguese regiments in the same brigade.<a id="FNanchor_145" href="#Footnote_145" class="fnanchor">145</a> To five of -the eight brigades forming his infantry a Portuguese -battalion was attached, picked as being one of the best of -the rather disorderly assembly which Beresford had collected -at Abrantes and Thomar. Though the Portuguese fought -not amiss during this short campaign, and are mentioned -with praise in Wellesley’s dispatches, yet the experiment -was not continued, evidently because it was found not to -work happily. The five Portuguese battalions were sent -back to Beresford not long after the fall of Oporto.</p> - -<p>The other point to be noted in considering Wellesley’s -organization of his army in the Oporto campaign, is that -already he had begun the system of strengthening his -skirmishers by the addition to them of a rifle company per -brigade, all taken from the 5/60th. The importance of -this arrangement in the general scheme of his tactics has -been already explained in an earlier chapter.<a id="FNanchor_146" href="#Footnote_146" class="fnanchor">146</a></p> - -<p>So much for Wellesley’s first organization of his army. -It did not endure for so much as three months, for on -June 18, 1809, a General Order, dated from the Adjutant-General’s -office at Abrantes, gave to the army the organization -in divisions, under which it was to win all its subsequent -victories. In the midst of some insignificant directions as -to forage and ammunition, appears the clause that “as -the weather now admits of the troops hutting, and they -can move together in large bodies, brigades can be formed -into divisions, as follows.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Original Four Divisions</div> - -<p>The original disposition was for four divisions only, of -which the first consisted of four brigades, the other three -of two brigades each. All the battalions in them were in -the British service, no Portuguese being included. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">166</span> -four line battalions of the King’s German Legion were -arranged first as one, and then as two brigades of the First -Division. Of the ten brigades into which the infantry of -the army were now divided, seven had two battalions only, -the other three three battalions each. The cavalry, which -had recently been increased by the arrival of two regiments -from England, was organized as a division of three brigades -of two regiments each. The artillery, of which only five -field batteries (or “companies” as they were then called) -had reached the front, was not yet told off to the individual -divisions in a permanent fashion, though certain units are -generally found acting with the same division.</p> - -<p>As to the command of the divisions, Wellington contemplated -that each should ultimately be in the charge of -a lieutenant-general; but as he had only three officers of -such rank at his disposition—Hill, Sherbrooke, and the -cavalry commander Payne—the General Order directs that -“the senior general officers of brigades will respectively -take the command of the division in which their brigades -are placed, till other lieutenant-generals shall join the army.” -This placed two brigadiers, McKenzie and A. Campbell, -in temporary charge of the 3rd and 4th divisions, Sherbrooke -taking the 1st, and Hill the 2nd. Sherbrooke went home -before a year was out, but Hill was to remain in command -of the 2nd division throughout the war, except during the -short periods when he was on leave. But during his last -three years in the Peninsula, when he was practically acting -as commander of an army corps, the 2nd division was, in -fact, under the leadership of William Stewart as his substitute. -The only modification caused in internal organization -by the creation of the new divisions was that an -assistant-adjutant-general, and quartermaster-general, and a -provost-marshal were attached to each of them, and that -the brigadiers acting as division-commanders were authorized -to take on some extra aides-de-camp.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Rearrangements after Talavera</div> - -<p>It was with this organization that Wellington’s army -went through the Talavera campaign, and the retreat to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">167</span> -the Guadiana which terminated it. The whole force was -British, no single Portuguese battalion accompanying it. -The troops of that nation were being employed under -Beresford during this summer, to cover the frontier of -Beira, between the Douro and the Tagus. Long before -the campaign was over, more British reinforcements had -begun to arrive at Lisbon, and had been pushed forward -some distance into the interior. One brigade, that composed -of the three light battalions,<a id="FNanchor_147" href="#Footnote_147" class="fnanchor">147</a> under Robert Craufurd, -afterwards to be famous in Peninsular annals as the nucleus -of the “Light Division,” got to the front after a tremendous -march—somewhat exaggerated by Napier and by tradition—only -a day after the battle of Talavera. Wellesley incorporated -it for a movement in the 3rd division, in which it -finished the campaign. There were seven other battalions<a id="FNanchor_148" href="#Footnote_148" class="fnanchor">148</a> -which did not get so far forward, and ultimately joined -Beresford’s Portuguese on the frontier of Spain. In -September Wellington drew down these troops to join him -in Estremadura, and made from them a third brigade -each for his 2nd and 4th Divisions. But there was about -this time a shifting about of battalions from division to -division, which it would be tedious to give in detail. The -net result was that at the end of 1809 Wellington had four -much stronger divisions than he had possessed in the -summer, the 1st counting nine battalions instead of its old -eight, the 2nd ten instead of six, the 3rd still six, but the -4th eight instead of five.</p> - -<p>The early months of 1810 were spent by Wellington in -an expectant attitude, behind the Portuguese frontier, as -he waited for the inevitable French invasion under Masséna, -so long announced and so long delayed. In this time of -long-deferred anxiety, while the Lines of Torres Vedras were -being busily urged towards completion, Wellington carried -out some most important changes in the organization of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">168</span> -his army, which made it (except in the matter of mere -numbers) exactly what it was to remain till the end of the -war.</p> - -<p>The most notable of these changes was that he made -up his mind to revert to his old plan of April, 1809, for -mixing the Portuguese and British troops. It took a new -form, however: instead of placing battalions of each -nationality side by side in his brigades, he attached a -Portuguese brigade of four or five battalions to most of -his British divisions, as a distinct unit. This system was -started with the 3rd and 4th Divisions on Feb. 22, 1810. A -complete Portuguese brigade consisted of two line regiments -(each of two battalions) and one caçador or rifle battalion. -The latter was always employed for the brigade’s skirmishing -work; when joined by the four light companies of the line -battalions, it gave a very heavy proportion of light troops -to the unit. This Wellington considered necessary, because -of the untried quality of the whole Portuguese Army, -which had not yet taken a serious part in any general -action. In the autumn they justified Wellington’s confidence -in them at the battle of Bussaco, where all of them, -and especially the two caçador battalions attached to the -Light Division, played a most creditable part.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Light Division</div> - -<p>The second great innovation made in the spring of -1810 was the creation of the celebrated Light Division, -which came into existence on Feb. 22, 1810; it was formed -by taking Robert Craufurd’s brigade, the 1/43rd, 1/52nd, -and 1/95th out of the 3rd division, and adding to them the -above-mentioned two Portuguese caçador battalions. Wellington’s -design was to produce for the whole army, by the -institution of this new unit, what he had already done for -the individual brigades when he added their rifle companies -to them in April, 1809. The Light Division was to be, as -it were, the protective screen for the whole army,—its -strategical skirmishing line, thrown out far in front of the -rest of the host, to keep off the French till the actual moment -of battle, and to hide the dispositions of the main body.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">169</span> -At the head of this small corps of picked light troops was -placed Robert Craufurd, whom Wellington rightly considered -his best officer for outpost and reconnaissance work. -How well this trusted subordinate discharged the duty laid -upon him has been told in the chapter dealing with his -character and exploits. All through the war Wellington -used the Light Division as his screen, for his advanced guard -when he was moving to the front, for his rearguard when -he was on the retreat, and he was never betrayed by it, -even after Craufurd’s death had left its conduct in the -hands of chiefs who were not always men of special ability.</p> - -<p>After the creation of the Light Division, Wellington -had five instead of four divisions, and another was added -to them in the summer of 1810, when in August he created -the 5th Division, so long commanded by General Leith. -This was formed by adding to a British brigade, newly -arrived from England,<a id="FNanchor_149" href="#Footnote_149" class="fnanchor">149</a> two of the hitherto unattached -Portuguese brigades. A second British brigade was provided -in October for Leith, from troops newly come from -Cadiz.<a id="FNanchor_150" href="#Footnote_150" class="fnanchor">150</a> These having come to hand, the 5th Division -dropped one of its Portuguese brigades, and became a unit -of the normal shape and size, two-thirds British, one-third -Portuguese. It did not, however, receive its caçador -battalion (drawn from the Lusitanian Legion) till 1811.</p> - -<p>During the campaign of Bussaco, therefore, Wellington -had six divisions—the old ones numbered 1st to 4th, the -Light Division, and the newly-created 5th. In addition to -the Portuguese brigades which had now been absorbed into -the divisions, there remained six more brigades of that -nation which were still unattached. Of these two, under the -Brigadiers Archibald Campbell and Fonseca, were formed -into a division under General Hamilton, which always -marched with Hill’s 2nd Division, but was never formally -made part of it. But since Hamilton invariably moved<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">170</span> -along with Hill, this pair of units, with their ten British and -eight Portuguese battalions, practically formed a double -division, or a small army corps, if a term which Wellington -never used in the Peninsula may be applied to it.<a id="FNanchor_151" href="#Footnote_151" class="fnanchor">151</a> There -remained four more independent Portuguese brigades, -those of Pack, Alex. Campbell, Coleman, and Bradford. -By the next year these were reduced to two, as one brigade -was withdrawn to serve with the new British 7th division, -and another with the 2nd. The surviving units continued as -unattached brigades till the end of the war, under a series -of commanding officers, whose succession is sometimes hard -to follow.<a id="FNanchor_152" href="#Footnote_152" class="fnanchor">152</a> They often accompanied the main army, but -were sometimes separated from it for special duties, when -some force less than a division was wanted, as a detachment -for a subsidiary operation.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Creation of the 6th and 7th Divisions</div> - -<p>The completion of the Peninsular Army in its final -shape, which was not again to be varied, took place during -its stay by the Lines of Torres Vedras, in the winter of -1810–11. It was then that the two junior divisions were -created, the 6th in October, the 7th early in March. Their -appearance in the field was, of course, due to the arrival of -a considerable number of fresh battalions from England -during the autumn and winter. But Wellington did not -take all the new-comers and build up fresh divisions from -them. The 6th Division was made by taking an old brigade -(Archibald Campbell’s) from the 4th Division, and uniting -it to the extra Portuguese brigade of the 5th Division.<a id="FNanchor_153" href="#Footnote_153" class="fnanchor">153</a> -The second British brigade of the 6th division was provided -some months later from newly-arrived troops from England.<a id="FNanchor_154" href="#Footnote_154" class="fnanchor">154</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">171</span> -The 4th Division was compensated for the brigade it had -given to the 6th by taking over a brigade (Pakenham’s) -from the 1st Division—while the 1st Division, to replace this -last unit, received three battalions<a id="FNanchor_155" href="#Footnote_155" class="fnanchor">155</a> which had just come -out from home.</p> - -<p>This was a complicated shift and transfer, intended to -secure a level quality in the divisions by the mixture of -recently arrived and veteran battalions. But in organizing -his last creation, the 7th Division, Wellington was prevented -by circumstances from carrying out the same wise plan. -Much belated in their arrival at Lisbon by contrary winds, -the last batch of reinforcements sent to him for the campaign -of 1811, landed when the main army was already in -pursuit of Masséna, who had just started on his retreat -from Santarem. Wellington was forced to keep them -together, since he had no time to distribute them when the -troops were all on the move. The 7th division was at first -very weak, containing only one brigade in British pay, -consisting of two English and two foreign corps,<a id="FNanchor_156" href="#Footnote_156" class="fnanchor">156</a> and one -Portuguese brigade (Coleman). Two more foreign corps -belonging to the German Legion<a id="FNanchor_157" href="#Footnote_157" class="fnanchor">157</a> formed the second brigade -of the 7th Division, but did not join it till the summer, -being distracted meanwhile to another field of operations.</p> - -<p>The 7th Division was for some time looked on as the -“ugly duckling,” or backward child of the army. Having -only two British to four foreign battalions, it was sometimes -called “the Mongrels;” its first début in action at Fuentes -de Oñoro was not a very happy one, as it was the outlying -flank force that was turned and partly cut up by French -cavalry. After this it was never seriously engaged in -battle for more than a year. Moreover, its foreigners -earned a bad reputation for their habit of desertion—a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">172</span> -habit not altogether unnatural, for they had been largely -recruited from the pontoons and prison-camps in England.<a id="FNanchor_158" href="#Footnote_158" class="fnanchor">158</a> -Hence a cruel joke in the list of divisional nicknames -given by several Peninsular diarists. The sobriquets run: -Light Division, <em>The</em> Division; no doubt the title given -to it by its own proud members. First Division: “The -Gentlemen’s Sons,” because it contained one, and afterwards -two, brigades of the Foot Guards. The Second -Division is called “the Observing Division,” because it was -so often detached as a containing force against Soult, on the -side of Estremadura and Andalusia, while the main body -was more actively engaged on the side of Leon. So much -was this its duty that it was only present at one general -action, Albuera, between the autumn of 1810 and the summer -of 1813. There were some brilliant episodes between those -dates, such as the surprise of Arroyo dos Molinos, and -the storming of the forts at Almaraz. The 3rd Division was -called “the Fighting Division,” its fiery leader, Picton, -having led it into the forefront of the battle both at Bussaco -and Fuentes de Oñoro, not to speak of smaller fights like -Redinha or El Bodon; it had also done the hardest of -work at the storms of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz. The -4th Division was called the “Supporting Division;” I suppose -because it was sent off to support the 2nd in Estremadura, -and most effectually discharged that duty at Albuera.<a id="FNanchor_159" href="#Footnote_159" class="fnanchor">159</a> The -5th division was called “the Pioneers,” a name whose -source I cannot explain: possibly it refers to some road-making -work done in 1810. The 6th was the “Marching -Division,” mainly, I believe, so-called because down to -Salamanca it was accompanying all Wellington’s great -movements from north to south and south to north, yet -never had the good fortune to get into the thick of the -battle. At Salamanca, however, it had as much fighting -as any man could crave. The note to the 7th Division, -however, is very malicious, being “We have <em>heard</em> that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">173</span> -there is a Seventh Division, but we have never <em>seen</em> it.” -The fact is, that after its mishap at Fuentes, and some -unsuccessful siege work at the second leaguer of Badajoz, -this unit was very little engaged for two years. In 1813, -however, it was gloriously prominent in the battles of the -Pyrenees, and the dash at the French line, made by Barns’s -brigade, was called by Wellington about the best and most -effective attack that he had ever seen.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Rearrangement of Units</div> - -<p>After the creation of the 7th Division in March, 1811, -Wellington never again organized a new divisional unit. -He received, of course, a great number of new battalions -during the years 1811–12–13, but contented himself with -adding them in ones or twos to existing brigades, or at -most gave two or three of them as a fresh brigade to one of -the old divisions. The former practice was the more usual: -the only instances of the latter that I recall being that in -1812 the 1st Division got a second Guards brigade, and in -1813 a new line brigade (Lord Aylmer’s) from reinforcements -that had just come out. The increase of the total number -of battalions at the front was not so great as might have -been expected, because from time to time corps that had -got thinned down almost to the point of extinction, were -sent back to England to be recruited and reorganized. The -number of British battalions (including the King’s German -Legion and two other foreign corps) with Wellington’s field -army in March, 1811, was fifty-eight; in March, 1814, it was -no more than sixty-five, a gain of only seven units. There -had been a considerable exchange of service between the 1st -and 2nd battalion of regiments—in several cases when the -2nd battalion had been the original unit in the Peninsular -Army, it went home when the first battalion came out, -returning as a mere <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">cadre</i> of officers and sergeants, after -turning over its serviceable rank and file to the newly-arrived -sister unit.<a id="FNanchor_160" href="#Footnote_160" class="fnanchor">160</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">174</span> -There was only two more considerable rearrangements of -the internal organization of a division. One took place in -May, 1811, owing to the fearful losses suffered by the -2nd Division at Albuera. Of the seven battalions forming -the brigades of Colborne and Hoghton, which had been so -dreadfully mauled in holding the all-important heights, -two were sent home, and the four others shrank into a -single brigade. To fill the place of the vanished unit a -whole brigade (Howard’s) was transferred from the 1st to -the 2nd Division, and became part of it for the rest of the -war. There was also a shifting about of two brigades -from one unit to another during the winter of 1812–13, -after the Burgos retreat.</p> - -<p>The normal divisional organization, however, remained -unchanged from 1811 onwards, viz. with three exceptions, -each division for the remaining three years of the war consisted -of two British brigades and one Portuguese, the -former having usually three battalions each, and the latter -five. This rule worked for the 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th -divisions. The Light Division, smaller than the rest, had -only three (or three and a half) British battalions, and two -of Portuguese caçadores. The 1st Division alone had no -Portuguese attached, but one of its three (after 1813 <em>four</em>) -brigades was foreign, consisting of the line battalions of the -King’s German Legion. The 2nd Division (as explained -above) had three British brigades and no Portuguese, but -to it was attached Hamilton’s (and in 1812–14 Ashworth’s) -Portuguese, so that it did not vary from the normal -arrangement so much as the 1st Division.</p> - -<p>It would not be quite accurate to say that a British -brigade always had precisely three battalions. Several had -four, one five, a few appeared with only two, but Wellington -generally made these last up to the three-battalion total -as soon as he was able, save in two cases. In the Guards -brigades of the 1st Division the two battalions were always -so strong that between them they gave 1800 or 2000 -bayonets at the beginning of a campaign—which was as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">175</span> -much as most three-battalion brigades produced. Moreover, -there was an objection to brigading together units of -the Guards and of the line. In the Light Division the -1/43rd and 1/52nd were also very strong and well recruited: -each formed the nucleus of a small brigade, of which the -rest was composed of a Portuguese caçador battalion and -a certain number (often six) companies of the 95th Rifles.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Anglo-Portuguese Division</div> - -<p>Roughly speaking, then, an Anglo-Portuguese division -usually amounted to something under 6000 men, save the -Light Division, which numbered under 4000, and the -1st Division, which in 1810, and again in 1813, had four -brigades, and over 7000 men. Of the 5500 or 5800 men in -one of the normal divisions about 3500 were British and -2000 (or a little more) Portuguese. The 2nd Division, -however, was a double-unit, with 5500 British, and attached -to it 6500 of Hamilton’s and Ashworth’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p>The mixture of nationalities in the divisions, normal -with the infantry, was nearly unknown in the cavalry arm. -The very few Portuguese regiments which took the field—never -more than seven, I believe—often four only—were -normally kept separate. Wellington, for the first three years -of the war, had so few cavalry regiments of either nation -that there was no possibility of dividing them into divisions. -In 1809, as has been already stated,<a id="FNanchor_161" href="#Footnote_161" class="fnanchor">161</a> there were only in the -Peninsula six British cavalry regiments, divided into three -weak brigades. Only one more corps joined them in 1810, -and in the spring campaigns of 1811, when he had left three -regiments with Beresford in the south, he had only four to -take with him for the pursuit of Masséna and the battle of -Fuentes de Oñoro—a miserable provision—1500 sabres for -an army of over 30,000 men, about a fourth of the proper -proportion in those days.</p> - -<p>It was not till later in 1811 that Wellington got cavalry -reinforcements which more than doubled his mounted -strength, bringing him up to fifteen regiments of British -and German horse. He did then at last divide them into<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">176</span> -two divisions, one of eleven regiments, which followed his -main army, the other of four regiments only, which he left -with Hill in Estremadura. But no Portuguese regiments -were put into either—though he took one brigade with -himself (D’Urban’s) for the Salamanca campaign, and left -two brigades (or four regiments) with the southern force -(those of Otway and Madden).</p> - -<p>But the organization in two cavalry divisions was -dropped in the spring of 1813—Wellington had had sickening -experience of the incapacity of General Erskine, who -commanded the small second division, and, Erskine being -now dead, for the rest of the war all the seven cavalry -brigades were theoretically again made into one division, -under Wellington’s chosen cavalry leader, Sir Stapleton -Cotton. As a matter of fact, Cotton was not allowed any -independent command of them, and the brigades were -moved in twos and threes under the direct orders of the -commander-in-chief. Wellington never used his cavalry -in mass for any great separate manœuvre. He employed -them for scouting, for covering his front, and for protecting -his flanks, sometimes (but rarely and in small units) for a -blow in battle, such as that which Le Marchant’s heavy -dragoons gave at Salamanca, or Bock’s Germans at Garcia -Hernandez on the following day. But of this we have -already spoken when dealing with the general character -of Wellington’s tactics.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Distribution of Batteries</div> - -<p>The rule of the combination of British and Portuguese -units which prevailed in the infantry, though not in the -cavalry, was to be found in the artillery also. In 1810, -when Wellington drafted a Portuguese brigade of foot -into each of his divisions, he also attached to several of -them batteries of Portuguese artillery. So small was his -allowance of British gunners, that in 1811, when he had -created his two last infantry divisions, he would not have -been able to provide one field battery for each of his eight -units, unless he had drawn largely for help on his allies. -At the time of Fuentes de Oñoro and Albuera there were in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">177</span> -the field only three British horse artillery batteries (attached -to the cavalry and the Light Division) and five British field -batteries attached to infantry divisions. The 3rd and 7th -Divisions had only Portuguese guns allotted to them. But -by utilizing the very efficient artillery of the allied nation, -to the extent of eight units, Wellington was able to put -thirteen field batteries in line, which enabled him to provide -the 2nd, 3rd, 5th, 6th, and Hamilton’s Portuguese divisions -with two batteries apiece, the 1st, 4th, and 7th with one -each. The two nations were worked as successfully in -unison in the artillery as in the infantry organization.</p> - -<p>Owing to the arrival of new batteries from home Wellington -was able, in 1812, not only to allot one or two field -batteries to every division except the Light (which kept its -old horse artillery troop, that of Major Ross), but to collect -a small reserve which belonged to the whole army and not -to any particular division. In 1813–14 he was stronger -still, though the mass of guns of which he could dispose -was never so powerful in proportion to his whole army as -that which Napoleon habitually employed.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">178</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_X" class="vspace">CHAPTER X<br /> - -<span class="subhead">THE ORGANIZATION OF THE ARMY: THE REGIMENTS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>In the year 1809, when Wellington assumed command in -Portugal, the infantry of the British Army consisted of -3 regiments of Foot Guards and 103 regiments of the line, -beside 10 battalions of the King’s German Legion, the 8 -West India regiments, the 8 Veteran Battalions, and some -ten more miscellaneous foreign and colonial corps. Of the -103 regiments of the line the majority, 61, had 2 battalions. -Of the remainder one (the 60th or Royal Americans) had 7 -battalions, one (the 1st Royal Scots) 4, three (the 14th, -27th, and 95th) 3 each, while the remaining 37 were -single-battalion regiments.<a id="FNanchor_162" href="#Footnote_162" class="fnanchor">162</a> As the 1st Foot Guards had -3 battalions, and the Coldstream and Scots Fusiliers 2 each, -the total number of British battalions embodied was 186.</p> - -<p>The reason for the curious discrepancy between the -number of battalions in the various regiments was that -(putting aside the Guards, the Royal Scots, and the Royal -Americans, who had always more battalions than one, even -in the eighteenth century) the British Army at the time of -the rupture of the Peace of Amiens in 1803 had been composed -of single-battalion regiments. On the outbreak of -war fifty regiments in the British Isles and other home -stations were ordered to raise second battalions,<a id="FNanchor_163" href="#Footnote_163" class="fnanchor">163</a> and a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">179</span> -little later the same directions were given to a few more. -Two corps (the 14th and 27th) succeeded in raising two fresh -battalions, as did also the Royal Scots, which was already -a double battalion corps. But few of the regiments serving -beyond seas were ordered to carry out the same expansion, -owing to their remoteness from recruiting centres; they -remained single-battalion regiments, save that the 35th, -47th, and 78th, though they were quartered respectively in -Malta, Bermuda, and India, provided themselves with a -second battalion. Seven new regiments raised in or after -1804 (these numbered 97 to 103) remained from the first to -the last single-battalion corps.</p> - -<p>A considerable number of the corps which were on -foreign or colonial service in 1803–4 had returned to Great -Britain since that time. But they were never, save in a -very few cases, able to raise additional battalions, the -number of such created after 1805 being only eight<a id="FNanchor_164" href="#Footnote_164" class="fnanchor">164</a> in all. -Hence the regiments from which Wellington’s Peninsular -Army was drawn must be divided with care into one-battalion -corps and those which owned more than one -battalion.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Establishment of the Line</div> - -<p>The Estimates presented to the House of Commons in -1809 show that there were several “establishments” of -varying strength for regiments in Great Britain and other -European stations. For corps absent in the East Indies -there was a wholly different set.<a id="FNanchor_165" href="#Footnote_165" class="fnanchor">165</a></p> - -<p>A regiment of two battalions, with both of them on -active service, stands on the higher establishment at either -2250 or 2031, or thereabouts. When the senior battalion -was sent on active service it was generally completed to -1000 rank and file, which, with sergeants, officers, and -musicians, should have made up a total of over 1100. Its -less effective men were drafted into the second battalion,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">180</span> -which, if the establishment was full (which was by no -means always the case), would have left somewhat over 900 -for the second battalion. And, indeed, we find such figures -as 906, 929, 916, etc., given for the strength of several -second battalions whose senior sister-unit had gone overseas.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Weakness of Second Battalions</div> - -<p>But these 900 and odd men of all ranks now included -not only the weak and ineffective men of the second battalion, -but also those of the first. Therefore if a second -battalion was sent out to the war, it had to leave behind -a disproportionately large number of men unfit for active -service, and would be lucky if it sailed for Portugal with -700 bayonets. Many cases are on record where a far -smaller number disembarked at Lisbon or elsewhere. -More than 200 would often have to be left behind to form -the depôt, wherefore second battalions were usually much -weaker than first battalions when at the front.</p> - -<p>For single-battalion regiments, such as the 2nd, 29th, -51st or 97th, we find very various “establishments” given -in the Army Estimates of 1809. They vary down from -1151 to 696; one or two exceptional corps are even smaller. -As a rule, it may be taken that the ideal would be to recruit -such a corps, when it was sent on active service, up to the -higher figure: but having to leave 200 men or so at home—the -inefficients who were drafted off for the depôt—it would -be lucky if it landed 800 in the Peninsula. And to keep -up the battalion the depôt could not always suffice; it was -full of unserviceable men, and could only send out recruits -newly gathered.</p> - -<p>Single-battalion regiments not on active service are -those which are found with the smaller establishments—of -such figures as 716, 696, etc. Not being expected to take -the field, they have not been brought up to the higher -establishment, either by drafts from the militia or by -specially vigorous recruiting.</p> - -<p>The three regiments of Foot Guards had much higher -establishments than any line battalion. The three battalions -of the 1st Guards mustered no less than 4619 of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">181</span> -all ranks, the Coldstream and Scots Fusiliers each 2887. -Thus the former could easily send abroad two strong -battalions of 1100 or 1200 men apiece, and the two latter -one each, while leaving behind a battalion and a big depôt -on which to draw for recruits for the active service units. -Therefore a Guards battalion in the Peninsula seldom fell -under 800 men, and was sometimes up to 1000. The -Cadiz detachment of the Guards, which fought at Barrosa, -was made up from the home battalions as a sort of extra contribution. -It consisted of six companies of the 1st Guards, -two of the Coldstream, and three of the Scots Fusiliers. -They are sometimes called a brigade—for which they were -too small in reality—sometimes a provisional regiment. -Their total force was about 1200 or 1300 of all ranks.</p> - -<p>With these figures before us, we begin to see why individual -battalions came and went in the Peninsular Army. -A regiment which had two battalions, one at home and one -in Portugal, was always able to keep up the strength of -the service unit by regular and copious drafts from the -home unit. Or if the original one serving in the Peninsula -was a <em>second</em> battalion, the first could be sent out to relieve -it. Second battalions were never sent out to replace first -battalions, it being always the rule that the senior unit had a -right to preference for active service. But occasionally both -battalions of a regiment were absent from Great Britain, -and in a few cases they were both in the Peninsula.<a id="FNanchor_166" href="#Footnote_166" class="fnanchor">166</a> When -this happened the second battalion was invariably sent -home after a time, discharging its effective rank and file -into the sister battalion, and returning to Great Britain as -a <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">cadre</i> of officers and sergeants, with a few old, unserviceable, -or nearly time-expired rank and file.</p> - -<p>Having laid down these general rules, we shall see how -it came to pass that of Wellington’s original army of 1809 -some battalions stopped with him for the whole war, while -others were successively sent away and replaced by fresh -units.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">182</span> -The greater part of the British Army which had been in -the Peninsula in 1808 went home from Corunna at the end -of Sir John Moore’s retreat. Of these units some never -came back at all to share in Wellington’s triumphs;<a id="FNanchor_167" href="#Footnote_167" class="fnanchor">167</a> -others returned only in time to see the end of the war in -1812, 1813, and 1814.<a id="FNanchor_168" href="#Footnote_168" class="fnanchor">168</a> Only Craufurd’s three famous -light infantry battalions, the 1/43rd, 1/52nd, and 1/95th -came back, after an absence of no more than a few months, -in the summer of 1809.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Original Peninsular Regiments</div> - -<p>The real nucleus of the permanent Peninsular Army was -composed, not of the regiments which had operated under -Moore, but of that small fragment of the original landing force -of 1808 which had not followed Moore to Salamanca, Sahagun, -and Corunna, but remained behind in the Peninsula.<a id="FNanchor_169" href="#Footnote_169" class="fnanchor">169</a> -To this mere remnant of eleven battalions and one cavalry -regiment there were added the reinforcements which preceded -or accompanied Sir Arthur Wellesley when he came -to take up the command in April, 1809, which amounted to -twelve battalions more, with four regiments of cavalry.<a id="FNanchor_170" href="#Footnote_170" class="fnanchor">170</a> -The whole, when first divided into brigades and organized -as an operating force at Coimbra on May 4, 1809, only -amounted to 23,000 men—a modest nucleus for the army -which was destined not only to save Portugal, but ultimately -to thrust out of Spain a body of invaders which at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">183</span> -this moment amounted to over 200,000 men, and which in -1810–11 was brought up to 300,000, a figure which it -maintained till drafts began to be made upon it for the -Russian War in 1812.<a id="FNanchor_171" href="#Footnote_171" class="fnanchor">171</a></p> - -<p>Moore’s host had been, as he himself wrote to Castlereagh -in a noteworthy dispatch, not so much <em>a</em> British army as -the <em>only</em> British army fit for the field. Since no more than -an infinitesimal fraction of this picked force was able to -return to the Peninsula at once, it followed that Wellesley’s -army of 1809 was composed, for its greater part, of troops -that had been considered of secondary quality, and less -fit for service than the battalions which had been put <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">hors -de combat</i> for a long space by the exhaustion which they had -suffered in the terrible retreat to Corunna. Excluding the -Guards and the King’s German Legion units, Wellesley’s -Field Army in July contained eighteen British battalions, -of which only six were first battalions of regiments of full -strength, two (the 29th and 97th) were single-battalion -corps, and the remaining ten were junior battalions, <i>i.e.</i> -were the usually depleted home-service units of regiments -which already had one battalion abroad, or of which the -first battalion had just returned from Corunna unfit for -immediate use.<a id="FNanchor_172" href="#Footnote_172" class="fnanchor">172</a> It was an army whose quality was -notably inferior to that of the force which had marched -into Spain under Moore six months before. And the -second battalions were invariably under strength, because -they had, until their unexpected embarkation for the -front, been engaged in supplying their sister units abroad<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">184</span> -with the necessary drafts for foreign service. Many of -them were woefully weak in numbers, showing, instead of -the theoretical 900 bayonets, such figures as 638, 680, 749, -776, which, after deducting sick and men on command, -meant under 600 for the field. Indeed, a few months -later, at Talavera,<a id="FNanchor_173" href="#Footnote_173" class="fnanchor">173</a> six of the second battalions and both -the single-battalion corps showed less than that number -present, all ranks included.</p> - -<p>Bearing in mind the fact that a British regiment, owing -to the difficulties of recruiting, in a time when men were -scarce and bounties high, could not as a rule provide drafts -to keep up to strength more than one battalion on active -service, we can already foresee the fates that were destined -to attend the battalions of Wellington’s original Peninsular -Army. Nearly all the second battalions in time were worn -down by the exhaustion of war to a figure so low that they -could no longer be worked as regular battalion units. When -they had reached this stage one of two things happened -to them. If their first battalions were available, being on -home service and fit for the field, they came out to the -Peninsula and replaced the depleted second battalions. -But if the first battalion of any corps was already abroad in -India or elsewhere, the Peninsular battalion was, during -the earlier years of the war, sent home to recruit, and its -regimental number disappeared from Wellington’s muster-rolls. -In the later years of the war this was not so regularly -done: for reasons which will be explained, several of the -veteran second battalions, which had survived at the front -till 1812, were retained with the army, but cut down to -four companies each, and worked together in pairs to make -a unit of serviceable size. Of the eight original second -battalions of 1809, two were drafted into their first battalion, -which had come out to the Peninsula;<a id="FNanchor_174" href="#Footnote_174" class="fnanchor">174</a> one (2/87th) was -sent away for a time to Cadiz, though it returned to the field<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">185</span> -army in 1812; four were cut down in 1811–12 to half -battalions.<a id="FNanchor_175" href="#Footnote_175" class="fnanchor">175</a> Only one, the 2/83rd, remained continuously -in the Peninsula as a full battalion till the end of the war.</p> - -<p>The same fate attended the single-battalion regiments, -which had no sister battalion at home to draw upon, but -only a depôt. Both the 29th and the 97th went home, -reduced to skeletons, in 1811.</p> - -<p>But the six first-battalions present with the field army -in May, 1809, were still at the front in fair strength at the -termination of the war in 1814, and this, though two of them -had been among the worst sufferers in the bloody field of -Albuera. Indeed, there is throughout the war, I believe, -only one case in which the first battalion of a complete -regiment went out to the front, and was sent away before -the end of the campaigning in 1814.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Reinforcements from Home</div> - -<p>The reinforcements which were sent out to Wellington -from 1810 to 1812 may be divided into two sections, of -which the larger was composed of the reorganized and -recruited battalions of Moore’s Corunna army. Of these, -six battalions came out in 1810, nine in 1811, eight in 1812, -and three in 1813–14. The greater number of them were -first battalions, or putting aside the Guards and German -Legion units, fifteen out of twenty-three: of these all save -one (the 1/26th) fought out the rest of the war. Of single-battalion -regiments there were four (2nd, 51st, 20th, 76th); -of junior battalions belonging to corps which already had -one battalion abroad, there were also only three (3/1st, -2/52nd, 2/59th). Of these two last classes the 2/52nd was -soon sent home, after drafting its men into the 1/52nd. -The 2nd got so depleted that it was cut down to four -companies, and put into a provisional battalion in 1812 till -the end of the war. The 76th on its return was only in the -field for a few months in 1813–14, so that it had no time -to get worked down. The 3/1st, though a junior battalion, -belonged to a large regiment of four battalions, and for that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">186</span> -reason never shrank below its proper size, there being a sister -unit at home to send it drafts. We may therefore say -that, of the eight battalions which were not first battalions -of full regiments, only three saw long service, yet survived -unimpaired to the peace of 1814 (20th, 51st, 2/59th); and -of these three two only came out in 1812, and were less -than two years in the Peninsula. It is clear, then, that -the same rule prevailed in the reinforcements as in the -original 1809 army; only first battalions could be relied -upon not to melt.</p> - -<p>The battalions sent out as reinforcements to Wellington -which had not formed part of Moore’s Corunna army, -were decidedly less numerous than the other class, amounting -to only nineteen. Of these six were first battalions,<a id="FNanchor_176" href="#Footnote_176" class="fnanchor">176</a> -eight second battalions,<a id="FNanchor_177" href="#Footnote_177" class="fnanchor">177</a> and five single battalion corps.<a id="FNanchor_178" href="#Footnote_178" class="fnanchor">178</a> -All of the first-named category fought out the whole war: -but several of the other two were sent home, either when -they had been depleted to reinforce their first battalions, -or for other reasons. The proportion would have been -larger but for the fact that several of them were among -the last arrivals in the Peninsula, who only joined in the -later autumn and winter campaigns of 1813–14, and had -not time to get worn down.<a id="FNanchor_179" href="#Footnote_179" class="fnanchor">179</a> One second battalion (2/58th) -was worked as a four-company unit during the last two -years of the war.</p> - -<p>The net result of all the interchange of battalions, and -of the sending home of weak units, was that in 1814, when -the struggle with Napoleon had come to its end, out of -fifty-six British line battalions present at the front, only -thirteen were second battalions, and of these last five<a id="FNanchor_180" href="#Footnote_180" class="fnanchor">180</a> -were (as has been already mentioned) so depleted in numbers -that they were being worked in pairs, being each only four<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">187</span> -companies strong, and not mustering more than 250 or -300 men.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Walcheren Regiments</div> - -<p>That such weak half-units were detained in the Peninsula -was due to a resolve of Wellington’s, made after -the campaign of 1811. During the latter part of that year -the chief of his worries was that he had been sent out -among his reinforcements a number of corps which had -served in the Walcheren expedition, where almost every -man had the seeds of ague in him, from a sojourn in the -marshes of Holland. The heat of the Portuguese summer -and the torrential rains of the autumn at once brought -out the latent weakness in the constitution of men who were -little more than convalescents, and regiments which had -landed at Lisbon in July 850 strong showed only 550 in -the ranks in October.<a id="FNanchor_181" href="#Footnote_181" class="fnanchor">181</a> So appalling was the accumulation -of fever and ague cases in the hospitals<a id="FNanchor_182" href="#Footnote_182" class="fnanchor">182</a> that Wellington -wrote home to beg that not another unit which had been -at Walcheren might be sent out to him. He now made up -his mind to keep old regiments, even when they had dwindled -rather low in numbers, rather than to send them home to -recruit, and to receive new battalions in their stead. The -reason was that it took a corps many months before it -learnt to shift for itself, and to grow acclimatized. During -their first few months in the Peninsula, newly arrived units -always showed too many sick and too many stragglers. -For men fresh from barrack life in England were at first -prostrated by the heat of the climate and the length of the -marches. They had still to pick up the old campaigner’s -tricks, and were very helpless. Veteran troops were so -superior in endurance to new regiments from England, -most of whom had been on the pestilential Walcheren -expedition, and were still full of rickety convalescents,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">188</span> -that Wellington determined to keep even remnants of old -corps accustomed to the air of the Peninsula, rather than -to ask for more unacclimatized battalions from home. -Hence came the institution, in the end of 1812, of two -of the “provisional battalions” already mentioned.<a id="FNanchor_183" href="#Footnote_183" class="fnanchor">183</a> At -an earlier period of the war they would undoubtedly have -been sent back to England.<a id="FNanchor_184" href="#Footnote_184" class="fnanchor">184</a> But now these fractions of -depleted veteran corps were taken, with excellent results, -all through the campaign of 1812–13–14.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Fate of Second Battalions</div> - -<p>It is perhaps worth while to make a note how curious -was Wellington’s attitude in face of that rather exceptional -occurrence the appearance of two strong battalions of the -same regiment in his army. If the second battalion was -weak, he soon drafted it into the first and sent it home. But -when, from some chance, both had full ranks, it did not by -any means always strike him as necessary to brigade them -together. For example, the 1/7th and 2/7th were both at -the front from October, 1810, to July, 1811; but for several -months of the time one was in the 4th Division, the other in -the 1st. A still more striking instance is that of the 48th. -Its two battalions were both from their first arrival placed -in the 2nd Division, but they served from June, 1809, to -May, 1811, in different brigades of it.<a id="FNanchor_185" href="#Footnote_185" class="fnanchor">185</a> The occasions when -the two battalions of the same regiment served for any -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">189</span>time in one brigade were very rare—I only know of the -cases of the 1st and 3rd battalions of the Foot Guards in -1813–14, of the two battalions of the 52nd between March, -1811, and March, 1812, and of those of the 7th Fusiliers, -who (after some service apart) had been brigaded together -in the 4th Division six months before Albuera. In the last -two cases the first battalion presently absorbed the second, -which was sent home as a skeleton <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">cadre</i> when its strength -at last began to run low. All other cases of juxtaposition -were so short that it would seem that Wellington only -brought the two battalions together for the purpose of -drafting the second into the first at the earliest convenient -moment. In this way the 2/88th (long in garrison at -Lisbon) were brought up to the front to be amalgamated -in less than four months with the 1/88th (March-July, 1811). -The 1/5th, coming out in the summer of 1812, seems to have -served along with the 2/5th for about the same number of -months, the latter being sent home in October. The 1/38th -similarly arrived at about the same time, and served from -June to November beside the 2/38th, which then departed. -These are very different cases from those of the two -battalions of the 7th, the 48th, and the 52nd, all of which -were present for a year or more together in the army.</p> - -<div id="ip_189" class="figcenter b4" style="max-width: 37.5em;"><p><i>PLATE V.</i></p> -<img src="images/i_188.jpg" width="600" height="390" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="floatl"><span class="smcap">Officer of Rifles.</span><br />1809.</p> - -<p class="floatr"><span class="smcap">Private, Infantry of the Line.</span><br />1809.</p></div></div> - -<p>The working unit of the Peninsular Army was always -the ten-company battalion, commanded by a lieutenant-colonel. -When, as in the exceptional cases just named, it -chanced that two battalions of a regiment got together, the -senior of the two commanding officers had no authority -over the other. Both were directly responsible to the -brigadier. The battalion theoretically had thirty-five officers -and 1000 rank and file, besides sergeants and drummers. -A pestilent practice prevailed in all British general returns, -of giving in statistics of the larger sort only the number -of rank and file (<i>i.e.</i> corporals and privates), officers, sergeants, -and musicians being all omitted. To bring the -figures up to the real general total in such a case, an allowance -of about one-eighth or one-ninth has to be added to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">190</span> -the number given. Fortunately detailed returns of all -ranks are always available, when absolute correctness is -required, from the fortnightly general states at the Record -Office.</p> - -<p>The theoretical establishment of about 1150 of all ranks -for a first battalion was, of course, hardly ever seen in the -field. Regiments which landed at Lisbon with a full -complement soon dwindled, even before they got to the -front, and nothing was rarer than a battalion in line of -battle with a total strength in the four figures.<a id="FNanchor_186" href="#Footnote_186" class="fnanchor">186</a> A good -well-managed corps which had not been in action of late, -and had not been stationed in an unhealthy cantonment, -might keep up to 700 and even 800 men throughout a -campaign. The Guards battalions, which had a decidedly -larger establishment than those of the line, were frequently -up to 900 men or more.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, a battalion which had seen much -fighting, which had not received its drafts regularly, and -had long starved on the bleak mountains of Beira, or -sweltered in the pestilential valley of the Guadiana, often -worked down to 450 men or less, even if it were a first -battalion which had landed with its full 1000 rank and file. -A second battalion under similar circumstances might -shrink to 250 or 300. At the end of the very fatiguing -campaign of 1811, which had included the toilsome pursuit -of Masséna, the Fuentes de Oñoro fighting, and the long -tarrying on the Caya during the unhealthy summer heats, -of forty-six battalions present with Wellington’s main -army only nine (all save one first-battalions, and two of -them belonging to the Guards) showed more than 700 of all -ranks present. Sixteen more had between 500 and 700, -ten between 400 and 500. No less than eleven were down -to the miserable figure of under 400 men, and it is to be -noted that of these nearly all were either second battalions<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">191</span> -or single-battalion regiments; there were six of the former -three of the latter among them. The average of the whole, -it may be seen, was about 550 men per unit; the extreme -variation was between 1005 for the strongest battalion -and 263 for the weakest.<a id="FNanchor_187" href="#Footnote_187" class="fnanchor">187</a> At this time, it should be noted, -the army was more sickly than it had ever been before, -having over 14,000 men in hospital to 29,300 present with -the colours. Wellington was never again so encumbered -with sick, save for one period of a few weeks—that which -followed the end of the retreat from Burgos to Ciudad -Rodrigo in October-November, 1813. During the first months -of this winter the troops, tired by incessant marching in the -rain, and low feeding, sent into hospital a number of cases -not less distressing than those which had been seen in -September, 1811. But a short period of rest served to -re-establish their health, and in 1813–14 the troops were very -healthy, even during the trying weeks when many of them -were cantoned high among the snows of the Pyrenean -passes.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Cavalry Regiments</div> - -<p>So much for the infantry regiments. A few words as -regards the cavalry must be added to this chapter on -organization. From first to last Wellington had under -him twenty-one regiments of British horse, besides four -more of the light and heavy cavalry of the King’s German -Legion. But at no time had he such a force as would -be represented by this total. He started in 1809 with -eight regiments. Before he had been many weeks in -command one of his units (a fractional one, composed of -two squadrons of the 20th Light Dragoons) was taken -from him and shipped off to Sicily. Before the end of the -year another (23rd Light Dragoons), which had been badly -cut up at Talavera, and lost half its strength there, was sent -home to recruit. Thus he had only six regiments<a id="FNanchor_188" href="#Footnote_188" class="fnanchor">188</a> on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">192</span> -January 1, 1810, and as only one joined him that year,<a id="FNanchor_189" href="#Footnote_189" class="fnanchor">189</a> -seven was his total force, till he at last received large -reinforcements in the late summer and autumn of 1811. -But he started the campaign of 1812 with sixteen regiments,<a id="FNanchor_190" href="#Footnote_190" class="fnanchor">190</a> -which was almost the highest figure that he was to own. -For although during the campaign of 1813 he was sent -four new Hussar regiments, yet at the same time four -depleted corps were sent home to be recruited and reorganized. -This would have left his total at the same -figure of sixteen units as in 1812, if he had not also received -a large composite regiment (or weak brigade) composed of -two squadrons from each of the three units of the Household -Cavalry. By this addition alone did his cavalry force -in 1813–14 exceed that which he had possessed in 1812. -If we reckon the Household squadrons as roughly equivalent -to two units, the total at the end of the war was eighteen -regiments.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Faults of Raw Cavalry</div> - -<p>Unlike the infantry, the cavalry of the British Army was -organized without exception in isolated units, as it is to-day. -A corps sent to the Peninsula left a depôt squadron behind -it, and there was no source except this depôt from which -it could draw recruits. Nothing resembling the sister-unit -on which an infantry battalion depended was in existence. -Hence if a cavalry regiment sank low in numbers, and -exhausted the drafts which the depôt squadron could send -out, it had to return to England to recruit. During the whole -war only one corps (the 23rd Light Dragoons at Talavera) -suffered a complete disaster, corresponding to that which -the 2nd Infantry Division incurred at Albuera, and this -unlucky regiment was sent home that autumn, when the -British Army had retreated to the Portuguese frontier. But -four others worked down so low in strength, and especially -in horses, during the campaign of 1812, that, although<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">193</span> -they had none of them been thinned down in a single -action like the 23rd, they had become ineffective, and had -to quit the Peninsula. It is most noteworthy that all of -these four corps were comparatively recent arrivals; they -had come out in 1811, and in little over a single year had -fallen into a state of inefficiency far exceeding that of the -regiments whose service dated back to 1809, and who had -seen two years more of hard campaigning.<a id="FNanchor_191" href="#Footnote_191" class="fnanchor">191</a> The moral -to be drawn is the same that we have noted with the -infantry: the regiments which had served Wellington since -his first arrival had become acclimatized, and had learnt -the tricks of the old soldier. They could shift for themselves, -and (what was no less important) for their horses, -far better than any newly-arrived corps. We find bitter -complaints of the defective scouting and outpost work of -the new-comers. After a petty disaster to the outlying -pickets of two of the lately-landed regiments Wellington -wrote: “This disagreeable circumstance tends to show -the difference between old and new troops. The old regiments -of cavalry throughout all their service, with all -their losses put together, have not lost so many men as -the 2nd Hussars of the Legion and the 11th Light Dragoons -in a few days. However, we must try to make the new as -good as the old.”<a id="FNanchor_192" href="#Footnote_192" class="fnanchor">192</a> This was evidently not too easy to -accomplish; at any rate, at the end of the next year it was -four of the new corps<a id="FNanchor_193" href="#Footnote_193" class="fnanchor">193</a> which were sent home as depleted -units, not any of the seven old ones. All these, without -exception, endured to the last campaign of 1814, though -they nearly all<a id="FNanchor_194" href="#Footnote_194" class="fnanchor">194</a> had to be reduced from a four-squadron<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">194</span> -to a three-squadron establishment in the autumn of 1811, -owing to their shrunken effective. But they never fell so -low as the four corps condemned to return to England in -the next year. No more regiments went home after the -winter of 1812–13; the campaign of Vittoria and the -Pyrenees did not bear heavily on the cavalry, most of whom, -during the mountain fighting in the autumn, were comfortably -cantoned in the Ebro Valley. They only moved -forward again in the spring of 1814 for that invasion of -France which was brought to such an abrupt end by the -fall of Napoleon.</p> - -<p>The theoretical establishment of the regiments of -cavalry (putting aside the Household Cavalry) was in 1809 -fixed at 905 men in nearly every case. But a large depôt -was always left behind in England, and if a regiment -landed 600 sabres in Portugal, in four squadrons, it was up -to the average strength. At the front it would seldom -show more than 450, as horses began to die off or go sick -the moment that they felt the Peninsular air and diet. -A regiment which had been reduced from four squadrons -to three might show only 300 men on parade in the middle -of a campaign.</p> - -<div id="ip_194" class="figcenter b4" style="max-width: 37.5em;"><p><i>PLATE VI.</i></p> -<img src="images/i_194.jpg" width="600" height="490" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="floatl"><span class="smcap">Officer of Light Dragoons.</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Uniform of 1809.</span></p> - -<p class="floatr"><span class="smcap">Officer of Light Dragoons.</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Uniform of 1813.</span></p></div></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">195</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XI" class="vspace">CHAPTER XI<br /> - -<span class="subhead">INTERNAL ORGANIZATION OF THE REGIMENT: THE OFFICERS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Hitherto we have been dealing with the regiment considered -as a whole, and mainly with its place in the brigade -and division to which it had been allotted. We must now -pass on to consider it not as a whole, but as an assemblage -of parts—officers, staff, sergeants, rank and file, and -musicians.</p> - -<p>To understand the mechanism of a regiment it is first -necessary to say something about the establishment of -officers. Battalions and cavalry regiments were normally -commanded by a lieutenant-colonel: there were very few -full colonels with the army, and almost the only ones who -commanded a unit were those of the brigades of Guards, -where owing to the “double rank” which made all lieutenants -“captains in the army,” all captains lieutenant-colonels, -and all majors and lieutenant-colonels <em>full</em> colonels, -it resulted that the battalion commander always held a -colonelcy.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Devolution of Command</div> - -<p>When the lieutenant-colonel in a battalion was dead, -wounded, or sick, the unit was often commanded by the -senior major—there were normally two of them—sometimes -for many months at a time, till the absent officer returned, -or his place was filled by promotion. Cases were known -where, owing to great mortality or invaliding in the senior -ranks, a captain might be found in command of the battalion -for a certain space. I note that about the time of Bussaco -the “morning state” of the army shows two units (both of -the Guards) commanded by colonels, 30 by lieutenant-colonels, -16 by majors, one by a captain, and this, I think, -was a fairly normal proportion.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">196</span> -In addition to the colonel and the two majors, an -infantry battalion at full strength would possess ten -captains and twenty subalterns, or a trifle more, giving the -allowance of three officers per company, with a few over. -How many of the subalterns would be lieutenants and how -many ensigns (called 2nd lieutenants in the rifle regiments) -was a matter of mere chance, but the lieutenants were -nearly always in a majority.<a id="FNanchor_195" href="#Footnote_195" class="fnanchor">195</a> A glance down the morning -state of the Bussaco army of September, 1811, shows that -one battalion (1/45th) had no more than one ensign, another -(the 74th) as many as eleven. It was very rare for a regiment -to have its full establishment of ten captains present; -there were nearly always one or two companies commanded -by their senior lieutenants. In addition to its company -officers every battalion had its “staff,” composed of the -adjutant, paymaster, quartermaster, and the surgeon, with -his two assistant surgeons. The adjutant was usually a -lieutenant, but occasionally an ensign; in the Guards -(where most ranks counted a step higher than in the line), -he was usually a “lieutenant and captain.” In addition to -the officers regularly commissioned, a battalion had often -with it one or two “volunteers”—young men who were -practically probationers; they were allowed to come out -to an active-service battalion on the chance of being -gazetted to it without purchase, on their own responsibility. -They carried muskets and served in the ranks, but were -allowed to wear uniforms of a better cloth than that given -to the rank and file, and messed with the officers.</p> - -<p>The most astonishing case of devolution of acting rank -through the death or wounding of many seniors was at the -battle of Albuera. On the morning after that action the -wrecks of the second brigade of the 2nd Division, temporarily -united into one battalion because of the dreadful losses -which had fallen on every one of the three units of which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">197</span> -it consisted, were commanded by the senior captain of the -1/48th regiment—and he (as it chanced) was a French -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">emigré</i>, with the somewhat lugubrious name of Cimitière. -The brigade had been reduced (it may be remarked) from a -strength of 1651 to 597 in the battle, no less than 1054 -officers and men being killed, wounded, or missing, and -the brigadier, with five lieutenant-colonels and majors -senior to Cimitière having been killed or wounded.<a id="FNanchor_196" href="#Footnote_196" class="fnanchor">196</a> But -the Albuera losses were, of course, the record in the way of -heavy casualties; there is nothing that can be compared -to them in the annals of Wellington’s army for general -slaughter extending all through an army, though certain -individual regiments in particular engagements suffered -almost as heavily—<i>e.g.</i> in the storm of Badajoz and at -Waterloo.</p> - -<p>The chances of temporary command were sometimes -curious. The gallant Colborne, whom I have already had -occasion to mention, though only a lieutenant-colonel, commanded -a brigade at Albuera, owing to the absence of the -brigadier—he being the senior of four battalion commanders. -He then commanded his own regiment only -during 1811–13, but succeeded as senior lieutenant-colonel -to the charge of a brigade of the Light Division for the last -six months of the war. Though he had thus twice commanded -a brigade with distinction in the Peninsula, we find -him in the Waterloo campaign once more at the head of -his own 52nd Foot, in Adam’s brigade. It is true that -with his single battalion he there did more than most of -the generals, by giving the decisive stroke which wrecked -the attack of the French Guard.</p> - -<p>Not only did lieutenant-colonels practically become -brigadiers, in an interim fashion, pretty frequently, but -once at least an officer with no higher rank commanded a -whole division for some months. This was Colonel Andrew -Barnard, who after Craufurd fell at Ciudad Rodrigo, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">198</span> -the only other general with the division (Vandeleur) was -wounded, had charge of the most precious unit of Wellington’s -whole army for nearly five months, and headed it at -the storm of Badajoz. There seems to have been a similar, -but a shorter phenomenon of this sort with the 3rd Division, -after the fall of Badajoz, when, Generals Picton and Kempt -being both disabled, Colonel Wallace of the Connaught -Rangers commanded the division for a week or two—till -Wellington drafted in his brother-in-law, General Pakenham, -to lead it, which he did with great distinction at -Salamanca.<a id="FNanchor_197" href="#Footnote_197" class="fnanchor">197</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Purchase System</div> - -<p>Promotion in the British Army at this period was working -in the most irregular and spasmodic fashion, there -being two separate influences operating in diametrically -opposite ways. The one was the purchase system, the -other the frequent, but not by any means sufficiently -frequent, promotion for merit and good service in the field. -The practice at the Horse Guards was that casualties by -deaths in action were filled up inside the regiment, without -money passing, but that for all other vacancies the purchase -system worked. When a lieutenant-colonelcy, majority, -or captaincy was vacant, the senior in the next lower rank -had a moral right to be offered the vacancy at the regulation -price. But there were many cases in which more than the -regulation could be got. The officer retiring handed over the -affair to a “commission broker,” and bidding was invited. -A poor officer at the head of those of his own rank could -not afford to pay the often very heavy price, and might see -three or four of his juniors buy their way over his head, -while he vainly waited for a vacancy by death, by which -he would obtain his step without having to pay cash. The -system of exchanges, which prevailed on the largest scale, -also pressed very hardly on the impecunious; officers from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">199</span> -other corps, where there was a block in promotion, managed -for themselves a transference into battalions where there -seemed to be a likelihood of a more rapid change of rank, -by paying large differences for an exchange to those who -stood at the head of the list. But there was also a good -deal of exchanging for other reasons—officers whose regiments -were ordered to unhealthy or unpopular stations, -such as the West Indies or New South Wales, offered considerable -sums to others who were ready to accept the -ineligible destination in return for hard cash. By careful -management of this sort, a wealthy officer could procure -himself very rapid promotion—<i>e.g.</i> a lieutenant might buy -a captaincy in a West India regiment for a comparatively -modest sum, and then, as a captain in such a corps, exchange -on a second payment with a broken or needy captain in -some other regiment on a European station, to whom -money was all-important, and so get well established in his -new rank, without ever really having quitted home, or -served in the corps into and out of which he had rapidly -come and gone—on paper only. It is said that one young -officer, who had the advantages of being wealthy, a peer, -and possessed of great family influence in Parliament, was -worked up from a lieutenancy to a lieutenant-colonelcy in -a single year. This, of course, was a very exceptional case, -and happened long ere the Peninsular War began; but it -may be remembered that Wellington himself, was, through -similar advantages on a smaller scale, enabled to move up -from ensign on March 7, 1787, to lieutenant-colonel in -September, 1793—five steps in seven years, during which he -had been moved through as many regiments—two of horse -and five of foot. He was only nineteen months a captain -and six months a major, and he had seen no war service -whatever when he sailed for Flanders in command of the -33rd at the age of twenty-three! The Duke of York later -insisted on a certain minimum service in each rank before -promotion could be obtained.</p> - -<p>Contrast with such promotion that of the poor and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">200</span> -friendless officer who, after twenty-five years of service, -six Peninsular campaigns, and two wounds, found himself -still a captain at the age of 43!<a id="FNanchor_198" href="#Footnote_198" class="fnanchor">198</a> But there were plenty of -unlucky men who at the end of the war were still only -lieutenants after six campaigns, and were placed on half-pay -as such, at the great disbandment of the second battalions -which took place in 1816–17. The juxtaposition of rapid -promotion obtainable by influence and the purchase of -steps, with absolute stagnation in a low rank, which often -fell on the impecunious officer, whose regiment did not -chance to have many casualties in action, was appalling and -monstrous.</p> - -<p>I take it that the most pernicious of all the disturbing -causes which told against the right distribution of promotion -was political influence. As a contemporary pamphleteer -wrote: “Instances are very few indeed of preferment -being obtained by other corrupt means<a id="FNanchor_199" href="#Footnote_199" class="fnanchor">199</a> compared to the -omnipotence of Parliamentary interest. Thence originates -the shameful practice of thrusting boys into a company -over the heads of all the lieutenants and ensigns of the -regiment. The Duke of York has done something to check -it, but he can never remove the Colossus of Parliamentary -interest, an interest that disdains solicitation, and imperiously -<em>demands</em> from the minister of the day that which no -minister ever found it convenient to deny. To this species -of influence the commander-in-chief must give way—for -it is capable, when slighted, of removing both commander-in-chief -and minister.”<a id="FNanchor_200" href="#Footnote_200" class="fnanchor">200</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">The King’s Hard Bargains</div> - -<p>It was to the unscrupulous use by great men of their -parliamentary influence upon the ministry of the day that the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">201</span> -army owed a great proportion of its “King’s hard bargains” -in the commissioned ranks. The obscure but necessary -instruments of one of the great borough-mongers—Whig no -less than Tory—were often paid by the nomination of their -sons or other young relatives to a commission, by the influence -of their patron: and the families that did the dirty work of -a great politician were not likely to be distinguished for -high morals or uprightness. Sometimes the nominations -were absolutely shameful—it is said that the son of the -keeper of a fashionable gaming-house in St. James’ was -slid into the list of ensigns on one occasion, by a politician -whom his father had obliged. Whether this be true or not, -it is certain that there was a sprinkling of officers who were -not gentlemen in any sense of the term serving throughout -the war.<a id="FNanchor_201" href="#Footnote_201" class="fnanchor">201</a> Others about whose gentle blood there was no -doubt, were undesirable in other ways—prominent among -them a section of young Irish squireens with the bullying -and duelling habits, as well as the hard-drinking, which -were notoriously prevalent among the less civilized strata of -society beyond St. George’s Channel. I find in one memoir -a note of a newly-joined ensign after mess addressing the -assembled officers as follows: “By Jasus, gentlemen, I -am conscious you must have the meanest opinion of my -courage. Here have I been no less than six weeks with -the regiment, and the divil of a duel have I fought yet. -Now, Captain C., you are the senior captain, and if you -please I will begin with you first: so name your time and -place.” As the diarist very wisely writes, “one could not -be too guarded in one’s conduct with such heroes.”<a id="FNanchor_202" href="#Footnote_202" class="fnanchor">202</a></p> - -<p>Duels, I may remark in passing, were much less frequent -in the Peninsular Army than might have been expected. -Wellington (though long after he most foolishly “went -out” with Lord Winchelsea in 1829) set his face against -them on active service, because he could not afford to lose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">202</span> -good officers on account of personal quarrels. There -certainly were much fewer duels proportionately in the -Peninsula than in England at the time—not to speak of -Ireland and India, where they were beyond all reason -common. I have only found records of four fatal duels in -the records of court-martials, and though non-fatal ones -could have been (and were) hushed up, they cannot have -been very numerous, for one may read through scores of -memoirs and diaries without running upon the mention of -one. It is curious to note that when they did occur, and a -court-martial followed, that body invariably found that -though there was no doubt that Captain A. or Lieutenant -B. was dead, yet there was no conclusive proof that he had -been killed by C. or D.—the mouths of the seconds being -sealed by the fact that they were also on their trial for -having acted in such a capacity.<a id="FNanchor_203" href="#Footnote_203" class="fnanchor">203</a> The whole matter was -clearly a solemn farce. But the fact remains that duels -were not frequent, and that duellists had a bad mark -against them. Good commanding officers took immense -trouble to prevent a duel from arising over silly mess-table -quarrels, exerting every influence to make one party, or -both, apologize for words spoken in anger, or in liquor.<a id="FNanchor_204" href="#Footnote_204" class="fnanchor">204</a></p> - -<p>The body of officers of a Peninsular regiment was often -a very odd party—there might be a lieutenant-colonel of -twenty-six, who had risen rapidly by purchase or interest, -and captains of fifty or even sixty; I found a note of one -who had attained that age in the 73rd. At the head of -each rank there might be several impecunious and disappointed -men, waiting for the promotion that could only -come by casualties in action, since they could never hope to -purchase their step. Nevertheless, the feuds that might<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">203</span> -have been expected to follow such a situation do not seem -to have been so many, or so bitter, as might have been -expected. The grudge was set against the system rather -than the individual, in most cases, and the sight of a mess -cut up into cliques and coteries of enemies, though it can -be found recorded occasionally, was quite exceptional.<a id="FNanchor_205" href="#Footnote_205" class="fnanchor">205</a> -The saving fact was that there was always the chance of -promotion for merit, in reward of some specially gallant deed, -and it often came—though the Duke was occasionally -incomprehensible in the way in which he mentioned or did -not mention officers in dispatches. The lieutenant who -brought down the French flag from the castle of Badajoz, -and who was sent with it by Picton to the commander-in-chief, -was thanked and asked to dinner, but was still a -lieutenant years after, in spite of his general’s vehement -remonstrances.<a id="FNanchor_206" href="#Footnote_206" class="fnanchor">206</a> Dozens of such instances could be -quoted.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Professional Training</div> - -<p>Professional training for officers had perforce been non-existent -in the early years of the French war. There was no -institution which supplied it, and all military knowledge -had to be acquired by rule of thumb at regimental headquarters. -An improvement of the greatest importance was -made by the establishment in December, 1801, of the -“Royal Military College” at High Wycombe for the use of -young officers, followed by the creation of its “Junior -Department” in May, 1802, “for the instruction of those -who from early life are intended for the military profession.” -The latter, the origin of the college at Sandhurst, -to which the department was removed in 1811, accepted -boys as early as thirteen. Its first inspector-general was the -French <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">emigré</i> Jarry, to whom we owe the “Instructions<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">204</span> -for Light Infantry in the Field” of 1804, while Colonel -John Gaspard Le Marchant was “Lieutenant-governor and -Superintendant General.” This was the accomplished -cavalry officer who fell in 1812, at the head of his -brigade, in the crisis of the battle of Salamanca, when -he had just delivered a decisive charge. The military -college men were already numerous when the Peninsular -War began.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The “Belemites”</div> - -<p>The French General, Foy, a witness whose authority -can hardly be called in question, for he is making grudging -admissions, says that he considered the general mass of -the British officers excellent.<a id="FNanchor_207" href="#Footnote_207" class="fnanchor">207</a> The more we study detailed -records, the more willingly do we acknowledge that his -praise is well deserved. The weaker brethren were very -few—so few that an enemy did not even notice them. -Misconduct on the field was the rarest of offences; there -are hardly half a dozen court-martials for suspected slackness, -among the hundreds that were held for other offences. -There were an appreciable number of officers “broke” -for faults that came from hard drinking, “incapable when on -duty,” and so forth, or brawling, and a very few for financial -irregularities; but considering the unpromising material -that was sometimes pitchforked into a regiment by the -unscrupulous exercise of patronage at home, they were -exceedingly few. The only class of failures who had any -appreciable numbers, and earned a special name, were -the “Belemites,” so called from the general depôt at the -convent of Belem in the suburbs of Lisbon. This was the -headquarters of all officers absent from the front as convalescents -or on leave, and the limited proportion who -stayed there over-long, and showed an insufficient eagerness -to return to their regiments, were nicknamed from the spot -where they lingered beyond the bounds of discretion. Wellington -occasionally gave an order to Colonel Peacocke, the -military governor of Lisbon, to rout up this coterie—there -were always a sprinkling there who were not over-anxious<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">205</span> -to resume the hard life of campaigning, and loved too much -the gambling-hells and other sordid delights of Lisbon.<a id="FNanchor_208" href="#Footnote_208" class="fnanchor">208</a> -Occasionally the notices which appear in General Orders -about these gentry are rather surprising—one would not -have thought that such men could even have obtained a -commission. Take, for example, “The commanding officer -at Lisbon (or the commanding officer of any station at -which Captain —— of the 88th may happen to be found), -will be pleased to place that officer under arrest, and send -him to join his regiment, he having been absent for several -months without leave, and having been in Portugal since -October 20th last, without reporting himself to or communicating -with his commanding officer.”<a id="FNanchor_209" href="#Footnote_209" class="fnanchor">209</a></p> - -<p>Wellington in his moments of irritation sometimes -wrote as if the majority of his officers were slack and disobedient. -Such men existed; but, as one who knew the -Duke well observed, “by long exercise of absolute power -he had become intolerant of the slightest provocation, and -every breach of discipline, no matter how limited its range, -made him furious with the whole army. Hence frequent -General Orders, as violent as they were essentially unjust, -wherein, because of the misdeeds of a few, all who served -under him were denounced—the officers as ignorant of their -duty, the rank and file as little better than a rabble.”<a id="FNanchor_210" href="#Footnote_210" class="fnanchor">210</a></p> - -<p>But the duty-shirking officer, and still more the disreputable -officer was, after all, a very rare exception. The -atmosphere of contempt which surrounded him in his -regiment as a rule sufficed to make him send in his papers, -after a longer or a shorter period of endurance, in proportion -as his skin was tough or thin. Opinion was not -so hard upon the man who was merely quarrelsome and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">206</span> -ungentlemanly in his cups. But there were limits even -to the boisterousness permitted to the tippler, and drunkenness -when in face of the enemy, or in a position of -military responsibility, was always fatal.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Officers from the Ranks</div> - -<p>There was, throughout the war, a perceptible proportion -of officers who had risen from the ranks. Meritorious -service, showing good capacity as well as courage, not -unfrequently led to the promotion of a sergeant to an -ensigncy. A well-remembered case is that of the Sergeant -Newman of the 43rd who rallied the stragglers during the -march from Lugo to Betanzos, in the Corunna retreat, and -beat off the pursuing French dragoons. Another is that of -Sergeant Masterson of the 2/87th, who captured the eagle -of the <em>8th Ligne</em> at Barrosa. Many more might be quoted, -though none of them is so striking as that of a man who -did not serve in the Peninsula, but in contemporary campaigns -in India, the celebrated John Shipp. He was <em>twice</em> -given a commission for deeds of exceptional daring. After -winning his first ensigncy in the storming party at the -Siege of Bhurtpoor in 1805, he was forced to “sell out” -a little later by improvident living. He enlisted as a private -in another regiment, and was again promoted from the -ranks for a single combat with a Nepaulese chief during -the first Goorkha War of 1815. Conducting himself with -more wisdom on his second chance, he served long as an -officer, and when he went on half-pay became chief-constable -of Liverpool. His autobiography is an artless and -interesting piece of work well worth perusal.</p> - -<p>When a regiment had greatly distinguished itself in -the field, Wellington not unfrequently directed its colonel -to recommend a sergeant for a commission. This, for -example, was done for all three battalions of the Light -Division after their splendid exploit at Bussaco. Yet he -did not approve of this system of promotion as anything -but a very exceptional measure, and in his table-talk with -Lord Stanhope we find some very harshly worded verdicts -on old rankers, “their origin would come out, and you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">207</span> -could never perfectly trust them,”<a id="FNanchor_211" href="#Footnote_211" class="fnanchor">211</a> especially in the -matter of drink. This seems to be a typical instance of -the Duke’s aristocratic prejudices—but there was something -in what he said. The position of the promoted -sergeants was certainly difficult, and it required a man of -exceptional character to make it good. As a rule, they -drifted into the position of paymasters, recruiting officers, -barrack masters, and such-like posts. But many of them -made useful and efficient adjutants. In command they -were not as a rule successful,<a id="FNanchor_212" href="#Footnote_212" class="fnanchor">212</a> and I have only come on a -single case of one who reached the rank of full colonel, and -of two who were fortunate enough to obtain a majority. -It is clear that the purchase system pressed very hardly -upon them: with no private resources it was impossible -for them ever to buy a step, and, after reaching the rank -of captain, they almost invariably went upon half-pay or -looked for employment in some civil or semi-civil capacity.</p> - -<p>Concerning the equipment of the officer, his baggage, -his horses and mules, and his servants, information will -be found in another chapter. Here we are dealing with -him as an item in the machinery of the regiment.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">208</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XII" class="vspace">CHAPTER XII<br /> - -<span class="subhead">INTERNAL ORGANIZATION OF THE REGIMENT: THE RANK -AND FILE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>He who would make himself acquainted in detail with the -many experiments by which British Governments, from the -rupture of the Peace of Amiens onward, strove to keep on -foot in full numbers the very large army that it had raised, -must satisfy his curiosity by studying the admirable volumes -of Mr. Fortescue. Here we are concerned only with the -methods which prevailed from 1809 till 1814, and gave -Wellington the invincible, though often attenuated, battalions -which conquered at Talavera and Bussaco, at -Salamanca and Toulouse.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Volunteers from the Militia</div> - -<p>In the Peninsular Army the system of territorial names -prevailed for nearly all the regiments of the line, but in -most cases the local designation had no very close relation -with the actual <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">provenance</i> of the men. There were a -certain number of regiments that were practically national, -<i>e.g.</i> most of the Highland battalions, and nearly all of the -Irish ones, were very predominantly Highland and Irish -as to their rank and file: but even in the 79th or the 88th -there was a certain sprinkling of English recruits. And -in some nominally Scottish regiments like the 71st Highland -Light Infantry, or the 90th Perthshire Volunteers,<a id="FNanchor_213" href="#Footnote_213" class="fnanchor">213</a> the -proportion of English and Irish was very large. Similarly -in almost all the nominally English regiments there was a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">209</span> -large sprinkling of Irish, and a few Scots. This came partly -from the fact that, though the corps recruited in their own -districts, yet they were often allowed to send recruiting -parties to great centres like London, Bristol, Liverpool, -Glasgow, or Dublin. But still more was it due to the fact -that the larger half of the recruits were raised not in the -old normal fashion, but by volunteering from the embodied -militia, and that in this system practically no attempt was -made to confine the choice of militiamen wishing to join -the regular army to their territorial regiment. Nothing, -for example, was more usual than to find such things as -100 of the King’s County Militia joining the 31st or Huntingdonshire -Regiment. When the 77th or East Middlesex -Regiment returned from India in 1808, it was completed, -before going out to the Peninsula, from the 1st West York, -North and South Mayo, Northampton, and South Lincoln -Militia, but did not get a single man from the Middlesex -Militia.<a id="FNanchor_214" href="#Footnote_214" class="fnanchor">214</a> The Shropshire Regiment (53rd) when allowed -in a similar case to call for volunteers, did get 99 from -its own county militia, but 144 more from the Dorset, -East York, and Montgomery local corps.<a id="FNanchor_215" href="#Footnote_215" class="fnanchor">215</a> The 81st or -Loyal Lincoln was filled up in 1808, before sailing for -Portugal, from the Dublin, King’s County, South Devon, -and Montgomery Militia. Instances might be multiplied -<i xml:lang="la" lang="la">ad nauseam</i>. It was quite exceptional for any English -corps to contain a preponderance of men from its own -nominal district, and nearly all of them had from a fifth -to a fourth of Irish.</p> - -<p>It is impossible to exaggerate the advantage to the -Peninsular Army of the system, the invention of Castlereagh -when War Minister, which enabled it to draw in such a -heavy proportion on the militia for recruits.<a id="FNanchor_216" href="#Footnote_216" class="fnanchor">216</a> The men -thus obtained had all had at least twelve months’ drill and -discipline, in a corps which had been under arms for many<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">210</span> -years: they were trained soldiers of some little experience, -much superior in fact to the recruits who had been procured -in other ways. The permanent militia represented -the force raised by the counties by ballot, though substitutes -rather than principals were procured by that device. -Being forced to serve at home for a period of years, the -militiamen freely volunteered into the line, from love of -adventure, dislike of dull country quarters in England or -Ireland,<a id="FNanchor_217" href="#Footnote_217" class="fnanchor">217</a> and, it must be added, the temptation of the -enormous bounty, running at various times from £16 up -to £40, which was given to those changing their service.<a id="FNanchor_218" href="#Footnote_218" class="fnanchor">218</a></p> - -<p>It is a mistake to make a point, as some writers have -done, of the fact that many regiments appeared in Spain -with their ranks “full of raw militiamen, who sometimes -still bore their old militia badges on their knapsacks.” So -far from their being ineligible recruits, they were the very -best, for the militia of 1808–14 was not a body called out -for short service during one month of the year, but a permanent -institution which practically formed a second line -to the field army. And no man was allowed to volunteer -into the regulars till he had served a full year in the local -corps in which he had enlisted. A regiment must get drafts -on active service, and these were the very best sort that -could be obtained. Of course a corps filled up hastily<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">211</span> -with a great number of them, would want a little time to -shake down, but it would take far longer to assimilate a -corresponding number of ordinary recruits, hurried out -from its regimental depôt—for these men would neither -have had a whole year’s drill, nor would they have been -accustomed to the daily economy of a full regiment—depôts -seem to have been slackly administered, in many cases by -officers and sergeants invalided and past service, or who -had of their own desire shirked the service at the front.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Normal Recruit</div> - -<p>The other moiety of the recruits who came out to the -Peninsula, to fill up the never-ending gaps in the ranks of -a battalion at the front, were on the whole worse material -than the militiamen. They were the usual raw stuff swept -in by the recruiting sergeant—all those restless spirits -who were caught by the attraction of the red coat, country -lads tired of the plough, or town lads who lived on the edge -of unemployment, and to whom a full stomach had been -for some time a rarity. We have autobiographies of -runaway apprentices who had bolted from a hard master,<a id="FNanchor_219" href="#Footnote_219" class="fnanchor">219</a> -and of village Lotharios who had evaded an entanglement -by a timely evasion.<a id="FNanchor_220" href="#Footnote_220" class="fnanchor">220</a> Sons of hard fathers, and stepsons -of intolerable stepmothers drifted in, and still more frequently -the rowdy spirits who were “wanted” by the -constable for assault and battery, or for some rural practical -joke which had set the parish in an uproar. The oddest -cause of enlisting that I have come upon is that of a son -of a respectable Edinburgh tradesman’s family, whose -account of the fortunes of the 71st in 1808–15 is one of the -best written of all the soldier-biographies. A stage-struck -youth with a little money in his pocket, he had often gone -on (no doubt as a super) at the Theatre Royal, carrying a -banner or a five-word message. At last the summit of his -ambition came—a friendly manager gave him a short -part, where he had actually some share in the action. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">212</span> -invited all his friends to the performance to see his glory, -came on the boards, and was suddenly struck with stage -fright, so that he stood gaping and silent before the audience, -and heard the laughter and hooting begin. The poor -wretch bolted straight away from the stage in his costume -and paint, ran down to Leith, and enlisted with a sergeant -of the 71st, whose party was sailing that night for the -South. Anything was preferable to him rather than to -face next morning the jeers of the friends to whom he -had boasted of his histrionic powers, and who had come -to see his début.<a id="FNanchor_221" href="#Footnote_221" class="fnanchor">221</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Undesirable Recruits</div> - -<p>But these were the better spirits. There was a much -lower stratum among the recruits, drawn from the criminal -or semi-criminal classes, whom the enormous bounty offered -for volunteers had tempted into the service—generally with -the purpose of getting out of it again as soon as possible. -Not only were there poachers, smugglers, and street-corner -roughs, who had been offered by the local authorities the -choice between enlistment and the jail, but pickpockets, -coiners, and footpads, who had made London or some -other great town too hot for them, often enlisted as a <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">pis -aller</i>, intending to desert and “jump another bounty” -when they could. But sergeants were lynx-eyed when -they found that they had enlisted a slippery customer, and -the evasive recruit often found himself kept under lock -and key in a fort, and shipped off to Spain before he got -his opportunity to abscond. The number of these “King’s -hard bargains” varied much between different regiments, -but Colborne, a good authority, says that the battalion -was lucky which had not its fifty irreclaimable bad characters, -drunkards, plunderers, stragglers, would-be deserters, -actual criminals “whom neither punishment nor any -kind of discipline could restrain; for the system of recruiting -was defective and radically bad.”<a id="FNanchor_222" href="#Footnote_222" class="fnanchor">222</a> It was this scum,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">213</span> -a small proportion of the whole, but always swimming to -the top when there was mischief to be done—peasants to -be plundered or churches to be pillaged—that provided the -subject-matter for court-martials, and engrossed the majority -of the attention of the Provost Marshal. Officers of undoubted -humanity, and men in the ranks who knew what -they were talking about, unite in stating that there was a -residuum in the Peninsular Army which could only be -governed by the lash.</p> - -<p>This small percentage of irreclaimables provided the -nucleus around which misconduct sometimes grew to a -great scale, in moments of special privation or temptation. -In abominable orgies like the sack of Badajoz, or the lesser -but still disgraceful riots at Ciudad Rodrigo and San -Sebastian, it was the criminals who started the game, but -the drunkards—a far more numerous class—who took it -up. When the drink was in them, the mob was capable of -any freak of wanton mischief or cruelty. Wellington more -than once complained that the most reckless and ungovernable -of his rowdies were the newly-joined Irish recruits. It -seems that when in liquor they became irresponsible madmen, -and had not undergone enough of discipline to get them -into a habit of obedience, which might serve as a substitute -for moral sense. And I can well believe this from casual -evidence picked up in the diaries of his obscure subordinates. -The account of the difficulties of officers and sergeants in -getting a large draft of Irish recruits from Cashel to Deal, -which I met in one soldier-diary reads like a nightmare<a id="FNanchor_223" href="#Footnote_223" class="fnanchor">223</a>—or -a glimpse of some primitive pagan heaven, in which all -was objectless fighting in the intervals between frequent -and limitless potations. As a side-light on the national -failing, I may quote the fact that going through the complete -record of general court-martials for the whole period 1809–14, -I found that after putting aside all trials of officers, non-combatants, -and foreign auxiliaries (the last almost always -for desertion) there was an unmistakable over-percentage<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">214</span> -of men with Irish names, just as there was an under-percentage -of Scots. The offences for which the former -were tried were generally desertion and crimes of violence, -plundering or maltreating the peasantry.<a id="FNanchor_224" href="#Footnote_224" class="fnanchor">224</a></p> - -<p>The way in which the habitually criminal element -makes itself visible in this list of court-martials is in the -not infrequent cases of scientific and habitual burglary, -robbery of the convoys going to the military chest, or of -the private property of officers, and the stealing of church -plate—all offences often punished with death, for Wellington -rarely pardoned the professional thief, though he sometimes -let off a deserter with a sound flogging. But the queerest -glimpse into the lowest stratum of the army is the curious -anecdote recorded in Napier’s fifth volume. Nonplussed in -the winter of 1813–14 by the refusal of the French peasantry -to accept the dollars or the guineas which were all that he -could offer, Wellington determined to set up a mint of his -own, which should melt down Spanish and Portuguese -silver and recoin it in the form of five franc pieces. He -sent private appeals to the colonels to find him all the -professional coiners that they could discover in the ranks, -collected as many as forty at St. Jean de Luz, and with -their aid struck a large quantity of money, of which he was -careful to see that the weight and the purity were both -correct.<a id="FNanchor_225" href="#Footnote_225" class="fnanchor">225</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Gentleman-Ranker</div> - -<p>Occasionally the gentleman-ranker was to be found in -a Peninsular regiment. He was generally an “undesirable,” -who had enlisted in consequence of some disgraceful -quarrel with a family who had refused to do anything more -for him. Persistent drink, gambling, or dishonesty were -the usual causes that had broken him—not undeserved -misfortune or dire poverty. Occasionally he pulled himself<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">215</span> -together, became a good soldier, and was ultimately -promoted to a commission. More often he sank into a -persistent drunkard or a criminal. Surtees of the 95th, -in an interesting chapter, gives the biographies of the four -privates of this class that he had known.<a id="FNanchor_226" href="#Footnote_226" class="fnanchor">226</a> One conducted -himself well for some years, became a paymaster-sergeant, -and then broke out into a wild fit of dissipation, embezzled -the company’s money, and committed suicide on detection. -The second was always in scrapes: finally he was caught -deserting to the French, and was lucky to get off with penal -servitude for life instead of death. The third, “always -excessively wild,” was once made a corporal, but was not -fit for that or any other rank. The fourth was one of the -exceptional cases—being a retired lieutenant without -friends or means, who had enlisted as a private in sheer -poverty. He was an exemplary and deserving man, who -was soon made secretary, or private clerk, to his colonel, -behaved excellently, and was in the end restored to his -former rank in the army by interest made in his behalf.</p> - -<p>A regiment on Peninsular service depended for its -strength on the regularity with which it was fed from its -home-battalion or its depôt. Whenever a convoy sailed -from Spithead, it contained an immense number of small -detachments, varying from a few scores to over a hundred -men, under charge of officers newly gazetted to the service -battalion, or returning from sick leave. There was often -much wrangling on shipboard (unless the weather reduced -every one to the same level of nausea and helplessness), -not only between the men but between the young officers -in charge of them. After an angry comparison of the exact -date of commissions, which settled seniority in the choice -of berths, and in dealing with the transport-captain, two -ensigns in charge of detachments would often settle down -to a feud destined to last for the whole voyage to Lisbon. -Their men gleefully joined in the wrangle. There are -some absurd sidelights, in court-martials, on these frequent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">216</span> -shipboard quarrels, which sometimes ended in affrays and -“conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman.”</p> - -<p>When a detachment landed at Lisbon, the officer in -charge, often a lad of sixteen, had to shepherd his flock to -the front, perhaps over 200 miles of mountain roads. -Neither officers nor men knew a word of Portuguese, or -had the slightest notion of the manners, government, -prejudices, or food of the peasantry. They went forward -in a perpetual haze of mistakes and misunderstandings. -Every draft had its percentage of undesirables, or even of -criminals. Hence the young officer, responsible for their -safe delivery at the front, found himself embroiled in -constant disputes with the natives, often ending in his -arrest on his final arrival at headquarters. We must feel -nothing but sympathy for the unfortunate young man who -delivered only twenty-nine out of a detachment of forty-one -entrusted to him; or the other who found that fourteen men -out of twenty had privately disposed of their new blankets.<a id="FNanchor_227" href="#Footnote_227" class="fnanchor">227</a> -The only way of managing the draft was by reliance on the -sergeant or two who formed a part of it: and if the sergeant -was himself a sluggard or a tippler, ill fared his superior. -Imagine the feelings of the second-lieutenant who having -left his one non-commissioned officer behind, to hunt up -footsore stragglers, found no one arrive at the nightly -billet, and returning for miles to seek the lost ones, discovered -his sergeant dead drunk and snoring in the middle -of the high-road.<a id="FNanchor_228" href="#Footnote_228" class="fnanchor">228</a> Ability to conduct a draft to the battalion -was one of the greatest tests of the character and capacity -of a junior officer.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Concerning Sergeants</div> - -<p>The responsibility of the non-commissioned officer -cannot be exaggerated. It was easy to make sergeants, -but not easy to secure them of the proper quality. Too -often the man promoted for an act of courage or of quick -cleverness had to be reduced to the ranks again, for some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">217</span> -hopeless failing—he was prone to drink,<a id="FNanchor_229" href="#Footnote_229" class="fnanchor">229</a> or he was an -over-harsh or an over-slack administrator of discipline. -One of the commoner types of court-martial was that of -the non-commissioned officer who connived at and profited -by the misdeeds of the men under his charge—whose -silence was bought by a percentage, when peasants were -plundered, or convoys lightened of food, shoes, or clothing. -It was often difficult to get at him—to prove that he had -known of what was going on, and had contrived to see -nothing. But the numbers of reductions to the ranks -were notable, and lashes were often added when part of -the <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">corpus delicti</i> was found in the sergeant’s pack.</p> - -<p>However, the ideal sergeant was not unfrequently found, -and when found he was invaluable; he had to be a steady -man with a modicum of education and a sense of duty, -who could be relied upon neither to connive at his men’s -graver faults, nor, on the other hand, to be perpetually -spying on them and reporting them to their captains for -every minute breach of discipline. Tact was as necessary as -the power to get orders carried out. The bullying sergeant -would, in the end, get left in some quandary or dilemma by -the men that he was always harrying, while the considerate -sergeant would get the benefit of his popularity by receiving -loyal and intelligent service instead of mere obedience.</p> - -<p>Most important of all non-commissioned officers was -the sergeant-major, concerning whose position I cannot -do better than quote the homily of a Highland soldier -more given to philosophical disquisitions than most of the -diarists from the ranks.<a id="FNanchor_230" href="#Footnote_230" class="fnanchor">230</a></p> - -<p>“The sergeant-major has an arduous duty to perform; -in all the arrangements of regimental duty he takes, or ought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">218</span> -to take, the most active concern. He has, of course, been -considered by his colonel a meritorious man, before he appoints -him to this highest step to which a non-commissioned -officer can attain: and, as it is frequently found necessary -to consult him on the interior economy of the regiment, if -he is possessed of any talents they are sure to be seen and -called forth. Fortunate is the regiment which possess a -good sergeant-major. His rank is not such as to make him -above associating with and advising the other non-commissioned -officers: his own personal example is the means -of swaying their actions: he cautions them against unjust -oppression, yet shrinks not from pointing out the cases -which require coercive measures. He recommends for -promotion those who meritoriously aspire to rise from the -ranks. His commanding officer is seldom troubled with -complaints, for he settles them to the satisfaction of the -accuser and accused. No mercenary motive actuates his -conduct in reconciling differences, and his hands are never -soiled with the gift of an inferior. To those who are unacquainted -with the influence which sergeant-majors -generally possess this may seem a hyperbole; but to me -it appears a fact; I speak not of one regiment but of many. -A sergeant-major, on the other hand, can be a little tyrant -in the corps, without the knowledge of his colonel: his -unnecessary acts of oppression may be made to appear to -his superiors as laudable zeal, and his severity as merit -deserving reward.... If the commanding officer be of -an easy, complying turn, or again of a repulsive, haughty, -<em>don’t-trouble-me</em> disposition, and the adjutant (which is -often the case) not over well informed, the sergeant-major -is consulted on all occasions. His opinion is asked as to -character, he can establish or injure at pleasure, for who -will be called in to contradict him? In short he has much -more to say between the non-commissioned officers and -the colonel, concerning the poor soldiers’ conduct, than all -the captains and subalterns of the regiment.”<a id="FNanchor_231" href="#Footnote_231" class="fnanchor">231</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">219</span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Sergeant’s Self-Respect</div> - -<p>The gap between the sergeant and the men in the -ranks was necessarily a well-marked one. The non-commissioned -officers kept together and formed messes of their -own. “Pride and propriety” kept them from joining in -the carouses of the rank and file. “He who has once joined -the company of sergeants is disincluded for any other,”<a id="FNanchor_232" href="#Footnote_232" class="fnanchor">232</a> -writes one veteran proud of well-deserved promotions. The -non-commissioned officer who was too familiar with his -inferiors was generally one of those who profited by their -misdeeds, and would some day be convicted of sharing -their plunder, or conniving at their excesses.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">220</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIII" class="vspace">CHAPTER XIII<br /> - -<span class="subhead">THE AUXILIARIES: THE GERMANS AND THE PORTUGUESE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Of the two classes of foreign troops which assisted to -make up the invincible divisions of the Peninsular Army, -the one formed at the time an integral part of the British -military establishment; the other was the contingent of -an allied Power, placed at the disposition of Wellington, -and incorporated with the units of his host, but preserving -its own national individuality.</p> - -<p>We must deal with the first class before we proceed to -explain the position of the second. Copying old British -precedent, the governments of George III. had taken into -pay a number of foreign corps from the very commencement -of the Revolutionary War. They were the successors -of the Hanoverians against whom the elder Pitt had railed -so fiercely in his hot youth, and of the Hessians who had -taken such a prominent part in the War of American -Independence.</p> - -<p>The regiments raised in the early years of the great -struggle with France had mainly been composed of Swiss, -or of French royalist <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">emigrés</i>. Most of these corps had -disappeared by 1809, and of those of them which survived -the majority were doing garrison duty in the Mediterranean -and elsewhere.<a id="FNanchor_233" href="#Footnote_233" class="fnanchor">233</a> Wellington never had them under his -hand. The foreign troops which came under his command -were nearly all German, and consisted of regiments raised -after the rupture of the Peace of Amiens.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">221</span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">The King’s German Legion</div> - -<p>By far the largest number of them belonged to that -admirable corps the King’s German Legion, whose history -was written with great care and enthusiasm by Ludlow -Beamish, while the generation which fought in the Peninsula -was still alive. They were the legitimate representatives -of the old Electoral army of Hanover, the comrades of the -British troops in many a fight of the War of the Austrian -Succession and of the Seven Years’ War. When in June, -1803, Napoleon invaded Hanover, and overran it with the -troops of Mortier, the 15,000 men who formed the standing -army of the electorate could make no effective resistance. -They laid down their arms in accordance with the Convention -of Lauenburg (July 5, 1803), which disbanded them, -and permitted officers and men to go where they pleased, -with the proviso that none of them would bear arms -against France till they should have been exchanged -for French officers or men in the hands of the English -Government.<a id="FNanchor_234" href="#Footnote_234" class="fnanchor">234</a></p> - -<p>The best and most loyal of the Hanoverian officers -began at once to betake themselves to England, and by -the end of the year were streaming thither by dozens and -scores. Men soon began to follow in considerable numbers, -and after two provisional infantry regiments had been -formed in August, a larger organization, to be called the -King’s German Legion, was authorized in December. It -included light and line infantry, heavy and light cavalry, -artillery and engineers. All through 1804 new units were -being rapidly created, mainly from Hanoverians, but not -entirely, for other recruits of German nationality were -accepted. But all the officers, nearly all the sergeants, -and the large majority of the rank and file came from the -old Electoral army. By January, 1805, there were in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">222</span> -existence a dragoon and a hussar regiment, four Line and -two Light battalions, and five batteries of artillery.</p> - -<p>In November, 1805, when Lord Cathcart’s expedition -sailed for the Weser, to make a diversion in favour of -Austria, the whole German Legion went with him. For -a few short weeks the invaders were in possession of Bremen -and Verden, Stade, and Hanover city, before the news of -the disastrous peace that followed Austerlitz came to hand. -During this space immense numbers of Hanoverians flocked -to the colours, some old soldiers, others volunteers who -had not served before. When the army evacuated Hanover -in February, 1806, it brought back so many recruits that -the Legion was raised to ten battalions of infantry and -five regiments of horse.</p> - -<p>These were almost the last genuine Hanoverians that -were raised for service in the corps, for when the electorate -was annexed to Jerome Bonaparte’s “Kingdom of Westphalia,” -it became part of the French Imperial system, -and was subjected to the conscription for Jerome’s service. -Only a few individuals henceforth succeeded in getting to -England and joining the Legion by circuitous ways. But -there were some good recruits obtained at Stralsund and -in Denmark during the Copenhagen Expedition at the -end of 1807, when the Legion was for some weeks in the -Baltic.</p> - -<p>The battalions and squadrons were still mainly Hanoverian, -when, in 1808, the larger half of them was sent to -the Peninsula. In that year one Hussar regiment (the 3rd), -two Light and four Line battalions (Nos. 1, 2, 5, 7), landed -in Portugal. Of these only the two Light battalions and the -Hussars marched with Moore, and re-embarked for England -after his disastrous retreat. The four Line battalions -remained in Portugal, as did two German batteries, and -made part of Wellesley’s original army of 1809. They -were joined in the spring of that year by the 1st Hussars, -who (as has been already mentioned) were considered the -most efficient light cavalry regiment in Portugal, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">223</span> -were long the chosen comrades of Craufurd’s Light -Division.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Recruiting the K.G.L.</div> - -<p>In the spring of 1811 the K.G.L. contingent in Portugal -was increased by the 2nd Hussars and the two Light Battalions, -who returned about two years after their departure -in the company of Moore. In the winter of 1811–12 the -two heavy dragoon regiments joined Wellington’s army. -Thus in the beginning of 1812 four of the five cavalry -regiments, and five (the 7th Line battalion had gone home) -of the ten infantry battalions were serving in Spain. But -at the end of the year the 2nd Hussars were drafted back -to England, owing to depleted numbers.</p> - -<p>It had now become impossible to keep the ranks of the -Legion filled with the genuine Hanoverians who had been -its original nucleus. Communication with the electorate -was completely cut off, and German recruits of any kind -had to be accepted. Many of them were volunteers from -the English prison camps, where thousands of Napoleon’s -German troops were lying. Of these only a fraction were -Hanoverians born. The large majority could not, of -course, share in the loyalty and enthusiasm of the original -legionaries, being subjects of all manner of sovereigns in -the Rheinbund, who had marched at Napoleon’s orders. -The quality of men was much worse, and many enlisted only -to escape from prison life, and readily deserted when they -reached the front, having no interest in the cause for which -they were fighting. From 1811 onward desertion, not at -all usual in the early years of the Legion, became very -common, and plunder and misconduct (previously very -rare) were also rife. Matters became still worse when, -later in the war, German recruits of any sort became so -hard to obtain that Poles, Illyrians, and miscellaneous -foreigners of any sort<a id="FNanchor_235" href="#Footnote_235" class="fnanchor">235</a> were drafted out to fill the shrinking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">224</span> -ranks. But the splendid Hanoverian officers still continued -to get good service out of a rank and file that was -no longer so homogeneous or loyal as it had been when the -war began, and the regiments of the German Legion, the -cavalry in especial, continued to be among Wellington’s -most trusted troops. The charge of Bock’s Heavy Dragoons -at Garcia Hernandez, on the day after Salamanca, was, as -has been already stated, considered by Foy to have been -the most brilliant and successful cavalry attack made in -the whole Peninsular War. After the peace of 1814 all -the “mongrels” were discharged, and the officers and -native-born Hanoverian rank and file became the nucleus -on which the new Royal Army of Hanover was built up. -The fact that the aliens had been discharged in 1814 was -the cause of all the K.G.L. battalions appearing at -Waterloo in the following year with very small effectives, -in no case reaching 500 of all ranks.</p> - -<p>Another foreign corps which served under Wellington -from the end of 1810 till 1814 had an origin and a history -much resembling that of the German Legion. This was -the Brunswick Oels Jägers, whose history starts from -1809. The hard-fighting Frederick William, Duke of -Brunswick, the nephew of George III., had made a gallant -diversion in Northern Germany during the Wagram Campaign. -At the head of a small body of adventurers, he had -thrown himself into the middle of Jerome Bonaparte’s -Kingdom of Westphalia, and had stirred up an insurrection -there, particularly in his own old hereditary states. He -was joined by several thousands of patriotic volunteers, -and inflicted a series of small defeats on the Westphalians. -But surrounded in the end by overwhelming numbers of -enemies, he cut his way to the sea, and embarked the -remnants of his followers aboard English ships at Brake -on the Frisian coast. The British Government at once -offered to take the refugees into its service, and from them -organized the Brunswick Oels Jäger and Hussar regiments, -whose black uniform reproduced that of the duke’s old troops.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">225</span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Brunswick Oels Jägers</div> - -<p>The kernel of this corps was originally excellent—the -officers were North-Germans, largely Prussians, who had -risked their lives by joining an insurrection contrary to -the orders of their sovereign, and could never return to -their homes: while the rank and file had been patriotic -volunteers. But, like the German Legion, the Brunswick -regiment could find no more recruits of this sort when it -had left Germany, and soon had to depend for the continuance -of its existence on the men in the English prison -camps, who could be induced to buy a release from confinement -by enlisting in the British service. It is clear that -the German Legion got the best of these turncoats, and -that the worst fell to the lot of the Brunswick corps. Not -only Germans but Poles, Swiss, Danes, Dutch, and Croats -were drafted into it. They were a motley crew, much -given to desertion—on several occasions large parties went -off together. One great court-martial in 1811 sat on ten -Brunswick Oels deserters in a body, and ordered four to be -shot and the rest to be flogged. Such men had all the -vices of the mercenary, though in time of battle they -displayed many of the virtues. Their officers had a hard -task to keep them together, and they could never be trusted -at the outposts. But the regiment was full of good shots -and bold adventurers, and furnished several of the detached -rifle companies with which Wellington strengthened the -light infantry of his brigades.</p> - -<p>There was, however, one foreign regiment which was -even more tiresome to manage than the Black Brunswickers. -This was the <em xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Chasseurs Britanniques</em>, a corps formed early -in the Revolutionary War from French royalists, and taken -into the British Service in 1801. It was recruited entirely -from deserters of all sorts when it came out to Portugal in -the spring of 1811. At absconding it was far worse than the -Brunswickers—the latter were raised from many races, but -at least they were not born Frenchmen as were the most -important section of the Chasseurs. A glance down the -names of the rank and file of the corps seems to show that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">226</span> -after Frenchmen the next most important section were -Italians, and that there were a few Poles and some Swiss, -the latter supplying the men with Teutonic names. It -seems to have been the working rule with the officers who -accepted volunteers from the prison-camps to draft French -and Italians into the Chasseurs, while Germans of all sorts -went into the Legion or the Brunswick Corps, and Swiss -partly into the Chasseurs, partly into Watteville’s old Swiss -regiment: Poles and Croats went anywhere. Now a German -prisoner who volunteered into the British service might -do so from patriotic motives, and make an excellent soldier. -A Swiss or an Italian or an Illyrian could not be very -heavily blamed for desertion—he had been conscribed, and -sent to fight for Napoleon, in a quarrel that was not his -own. But the French deserter was no longer an old royalist, -like the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">emigré</i> soldiers of 1794, but one of two things. -Either he was a man who enlisted in the Chasseurs simply -to get a chance of deserting back to his own friends, or -else he was a <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">mauvais sujet</i>, a man without patriotic feeling -or morality, who was ready to fight against his own countrymen -for pay or plunder. Both classes were amply represented: -the former fled back to the French ranks when -they could, often taking valuable information with them. -The latter were the worst class of mercenaries, since they -had no inspiring cause to keep them true to their colours, -while individually they were for the most part bad characters -who had been the curse of their regiments while in the -French service.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Chasseurs Britanniques</div> - -<p>The unenviable task of keeping together this body of -deserters and adventurers fell to a body of officers who -were almost without exception furious French royalists, -the second generation of the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">emigrés</i>. They looked upon -the war with Bonaparte as a family feud, in which they -fought under any colours (many of their kin were in the -Russian or the Austrian, or the Spanish service) in order -to avenge the death of Louis XVI., the atrocities of the -Terror, or the Massacres of Quiberon. With old loyalty<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">227</span> -to the Bourbons, and personal hatred for the new French -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">régime</i> as their inspiration, they were fierce and desperate -fighters. They kept the miscellaneous horde committed -to their charge under an iron discipline, and used the lash -freely. All that their personal courage could accomplish -was done, to make the Chasseurs an efficient fighting force. -But they could not stop desertion, nor frequent misconduct. -The most astonishing court-martial in the war was that -held on October 5, 1812, upon no less than 18 Chasseurs -who had deserted in a body, two corporals and 16 men, of -whom all but two bore Italian names.<a id="FNanchor_236" href="#Footnote_236" class="fnanchor">236</a> This was only -the largest case of a constant series of defections. The -regiment melted away whenever it came near the French -lines, and Wellington had a standing order that it must -never be trusted with the outposts. Yet as a fighting -body it had no bad record—as witness Fuentes de Oñoro -and many other fields. This was the work of the zealous -service of its officers—and was indeed a wonderful <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tour de -force</i>. The material with which they had to work was -detestable.</p> - -<p>These were the only foreign corps, strictly speaking, in -Wellington’s army, but there were two more units which -had a large, indeed a preponderating, German element in -them, though they were numbered in the British line. -These were the 5/60th, the rifle battalion of the “Royal -Americans,” and the 97th, a single-battalion corps which -started its existence as Stuart’s “Minorca Regiment,” but -got a place in the British line in 1804 as the “Queen’s -Germans.” Neither of these battalions were purely German -either in officers or men: of the 5/60th the disembarkation -roll on its original landing in Portugal shows eighteen officers -with German and ten with British names.<a id="FNanchor_237" href="#Footnote_237" class="fnanchor">237</a> The colonel, De -Rottenbourg, was a foreigner, but the second in command,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">228</span> -Davy, an Englishman. The British element was not proportionally -so strong in the rank and file at the commencement -of the war, but was apparently increasing as it went -on. English and Irish recruits were drafted in, in order -that such a fine corps might not be spoilt with the bad -class of German recruit such as was alone procurable in -1812 or 1813. When the corps returned from the Peninsula -in 1814 it had only nine officers with German names and -twelve with British, and I fancy the balance in the rank -and file between the nationalities had changed in the same -way. When amalgamated with the 1/60th, after the end -of the war it had certainly 400 British to something under -300 Germans in its ranks.</p> - -<p>This was a most distinguished corps: the green-coated -rifle companies which it supplied to many brigades of the -Peninsular Army were universally praised for their cool -courage and admirable marksmanship. The battalion had -very few deserters save for one period in 1808–9, when it -had received a batch of recruits from Junot’s Army of -Portugal, who proved unsatisfactory. It would be an -absolute insult to the 5/60th to class them with the Brunswickers -or the Chasseurs Britanniques.</p> - -<p>The 97th being a single-battalion corps, with nothing -to maintain it but a depôt which could only collect German -recruits in the same fashion as the K.G.L., wasted down -to a very small remnant after two years of war, and was -sent back to England in 1811, with a handsome epitaph of -praise by Wellington. It never got to the front again, -remained at home on a very weak establishment, and was -disbanded at the end of the war. Like the 5/60th it was -not wholly German; among the officers we find individuals -with British names like Carter, Biscoe, Wilson, Lyon. -Its colonel and one of its two majors were English, -and there was a proportion of non-Germans among its -rank and file. Its Peninsular record if short was -distinguished.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Portuguese Army in 1809</div> - -<p>It remains to speak about the Portuguese, who formed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">229</span> -about two-fifths of Wellington’s fighting force. We have -already had occasion to speak of the way in which they -were distributed among the British troops, when dealing -with the character of Beresford,<a id="FNanchor_238" href="#Footnote_238" class="fnanchor">238</a> and the composition of -the Peninsular divisions.<a id="FNanchor_239" href="#Footnote_239" class="fnanchor">239</a> But the inner mechanism of -the Portuguese army remains to be detailed. It consisted -in 1809 of twenty-four regiments of infantry of the line, -each of two battalions, save the 21st which had been cut -up at Soult’s storm of Oporto in March, and only mustered -one.<a id="FNanchor_240" href="#Footnote_240" class="fnanchor">240</a> There were also six light infantry battalions of -caçadores, all raised in 1808–9, and twelve weak regiments -of horse. The artillery, divided into four local regiments -of unequal strength (those of Lisbon, Oporto, Elvas, and -Algarve), supplied nine or ten field batteries, and a number -of garrison companies which manned the guns of Elvas, -Almeida, Abrantes, Peniche, and many other minor fortresses. -There was in addition an abnormal corps, the Loyal -Lusitanian Legion, raised by Sir Robert Wilson at Oporto in -1808, which furnished three battalions of light infantry, a -squadron of horse and an incomplete battery. This legion, -which had done very good service in 1809–10, was absorbed -into the regular army in 1811, its three battalions becoming -the 7th, 8th, and 9th caçadores. At the same time Wellington -ordered the raising of three new light battalions bearing -the numbers 10, 11, and 12.</p> - -<p>The establishment of a Portuguese two-battalion line -regiment was nominally 1540 men, that of a caçador -battalion 770 men: they were each divided into six strong -companies. The cavalry regiments, with a nominal effective -of 590 men, seldom showed 300 apiece in the field. The -infantry corps, with the conscription to keep their ranks full, -could from 1809 onward generally take the field with over -1200 of all ranks, not including men in hospital or detached, -and very seldom shrank as low as 1000. The caçador -battalions were generally somewhat weaker in proportion<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">230</span> -to their nominal effective, rarely showing more than 500 -men in line.</p> - -<p>The organization of the Portuguese Army was made on -a strictly local basis, each of the twenty-four line regiments -having its proper recruiting district. Two corps were -furnished by the province of Algarve, five by the Alemtejo, -four by Lisbon city and its surrounding district, three by -the rest of Portuguese Estremadura, four by the Beira, -four by Oporto and the Entre-Douro-e-Minho, and two by -Tras-os-Montes.<a id="FNanchor_241" href="#Footnote_241" class="fnanchor">241</a> Some of the recruiting-districts being -less populous than others, had a greater difficulty in keeping -up their territorial regiments. This was especially the case -with the five corps of the Alemtejo, where the waste bears -a greater proportion to the inhabited land than in other -provinces of Portugal.</p> - -<p>The caçador battalions were mainly raised in the better -peopled north, which supplied not only the three (Nos. 7, -8, 9), formed from the Lusitanian Legion (all raised in and -about Oporto), but also numbers 3, 4, 6, and after 1811 the -additional numbers 10, 11, 12. The southern provinces -only provided numbers 1, 2, 5. These brown and dark -green battalions, whose sombre colours contrasted strongly -with the bright blue and white of the Portuguese line,<a id="FNanchor_242" href="#Footnote_242" class="fnanchor">242</a> -supplied, along with the green British riflemen, the main -skirmishing line of Wellington’s army. Eight of the -twelve were raised and commanded by British officers, only -the remaining four by Portuguese colonels.</p> - -<p>Portugal is not a country abounding in horses, and -of the twelve dragoon regiments of which its cavalry<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">231</span> -consisted, three (Nos. 2, 3, 12) were never put into the field -at all, but utilized as dismounted troops in garrison duty. -Of the other nine corps several were mere fragments, and -none ever took anything like its establishment of 500 sabres -to the front. Three hundred was as much as was usually -shown: in the 1811 campaign the two regiments which -Wellington used in the Fuentes de Oñoro campaign had -not 450 mounted men between them.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Beresford’s Work</div> - -<p>Beresford’s conversion of the disorganized and depleted -army of which he took the command in 1809 into a serviceable -and well-disciplined force was a remarkable achievement. -He found it in a chaotic state—Junot had disbanded the -whole, save a few battalions which he sent to France to -serve Napoleon. The regiments had collected again as -best they could, but the cadres were incomplete, and the -corps of officers left much to be desired. The Portuguese -army before 1808 had all the typical faults of an army of -the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ancien régime</i> which had rusted in a long period of peace. -It was full of old or incapable officers put into place by court -intrigues or family influence. Promotion was irregular and -perfectly arbitrary; the lower commissioned ranks of the -regiments were choked with officers whose want of education -and military knowledge made them unfit for higher posts. -They had often grown grey as lieutenants, and were perfectly -useless in a crisis. The pay was very low, and the -temptation to make up for the want of it by petty jobbing -and embezzlement too strong.</p> - -<p>When Beresford took command, in the early spring of -1809, he had found about 30,000 regular troops in arms -on an establishment which ought to have shown nearly -60,000. The deficiency in mere numbers could be remedied -by a stringent use of the conscription: but the deficiencies -of organization could not. Beresford complained that -“Long habits of disregard of duty, and consequent laziness, -made it not only difficult but almost impossible to induce -many senior officers to enter into any regular and continued -attention to the duties of their situations, and neither<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">232</span> -reward nor punishment would induce them to bear up -against the fatigue.”<a id="FNanchor_243" href="#Footnote_243" class="fnanchor">243</a> In the lower ranks there was a -good deal of zeal, there being great numbers of young -officers from the higher classes, who had just accepted -commissions from patriotic motives; but there was also a -heavy dead-weight of old and slack officers, and an appalling -want of professional knowledge.</p> - -<p>Beresford made it a condition of accepting his post that -he should be allowed a free hand to retain, dismiss, or -promote, and should be permitted to introduce a certain -amount of British officers into the army. The Regency -granted his request, of necessity and not with enthusiasm. -He then proceeded to use his permission with great energy. -A vast number of old officers, both in the higher and lower -ranks, were put on half pay: only a minority of the colonels -and generals were retained on active service. All the -regiments which had been cursed with notoriously inefficient -commanders were placed in charge of British officers, of -whom four or five were drafted into every unit. Beresford’s -system was that “since national feeling required management,” -and “he must humour and satisfy the pride of the -nation,” a sufficient number of the higher places must be -left to natives, but each must have British officers either -immediately over or immediately under him. Where a -Portuguese general commanded a brigade, it was managed -that the colonels of his two regiments should both be -English. Where there was a Portuguese colonel, his senior -major was English; where an English colonel, his senior -major was Portuguese. In addition there were two, three, -or four British captains in each regiment, but hardly any -subalterns. For, to encourage good officers to volunteer -into the Portuguese service, it was provided that every -one doing so should receive a step in promotion, lieutenants -becoming captains, and captains majors. This system -seems to have worked well, though friction was bound to -occur, since the blow to Portuguese national pride, when<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">233</span> -so many high posts were given to foreigners, was a -heavy one.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Portuguese Officers</div> - -<p>Yet according to those who had the working of the newly -organized army in their hands, the effect was very satisfactory. -“The Portuguese captains are piqued into -activity and attention, when they see their companies -excelled in efficiency by those under English, and do from -emulation what a sense of duty would never, perhaps, -bring them to. There are a variety of oblique means and -by-paths by which the parts of a Portuguese corps are -constantly, and almost insensibly, tending to return to their -old habits, to which they are so much attached. To nip -this tendency, from time to time, in the bud, it is necessary -to be aware of it: without the constant surveillance of -English subordinate officers (who ever mingling with the -mass of the men cannot but be aware of what is going on) -the commanding officer can rarely be warned in time.”<a id="FNanchor_244" href="#Footnote_244" class="fnanchor">244</a> -D’Urban, the author of this memorandum, adds that one -of his great difficulties was to secure that the junior officers -of the old noble families were kept up to their work. “Even -supposing a sufficient energy of character in a native officer, -he does not, and will not, unless he be a <i xml:lang="pt" lang="pt">fidalgo</i> himself, -exercise coercive or strong measures to oblige one of that -class to do his duty. He is aware that by doing so he will -make a powerful enemy, and all the habits of thought in -which he has been educated inspire him with such a dread -of this, that no sense of duty will urge him to encounter it. -Whenever a regiment is commanded by a non-<i xml:lang="pt" lang="pt">fidalgo</i> it -never fails to suffer extremely: the noblemen are permitted -to do as they please, and set a very bad example.” -The only remedy was to see that any regiment where the -<i xml:lang="pt" lang="pt">fidalgos</i> were numerous had an English colonel.</p> - -<p>Such were the difficulties under which Beresford and -the body of picked British officers whom he selected as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">234</span> -his subordinates built up the army, which by 1811 was -fit to take its place in battle line along with its allies, and -in 1812–14 did some of the most brilliant service of the -Peninsular War. Some of the exploits of the Portuguese -brigades hardly obtain in Napier’s history the prominence -that is their due. While he acknowledges the good service -of the Light Division caçadores at Bussaco and elsewhere, -there is scarcely praise enough given to Harvey’s brigade at -Albuera, who received and repulsed <em>in line</em> the charge of -Latour-Maubourg’s dragoons, a feat of which any British -troops would have been proud. And the desperate resistance -for many hours of Ashworth’s Portuguese at St. Pierre -near Bayonne is hardly noticed with sufficient gratitude—forming -the centre of Hill’s thin line, pressed upon by -overwhelming numbers, and with both flanks turned from -time to time, they fought out a whole long morning of -battle, and never gave way an inch, though their line was -reduced to a thin chain of skirmishers scattered along a -hedge and a coppice. The advance of the 13th and 24th -Portuguese at the storm of St. Sebastian, across a ford -200 yards wide and waist-deep, swept by artillery fire from -end to end, does however receive from Napier its due meed -of admiration. This was a great achievement—every -wounded man was doomed to drowning: on the other side -was the blazing breach, where the British assault had come -to a dead stop after dreadful slaughter, but the Portuguese -regiments won their way over the deadly water, and took -their share in the final assault with unflinching courage.</p> - -<p>On the whole, the caçador battalions had the finest -record in the Portuguese Army, the cavalry the least satisfactory. -Some good work is recorded of them, <i>e.g.</i> the -charge of Madden’s squadrons saved the whole of La -Romana’s army at the combat of Fuente del Maestre in -1810, and that of D’Urban’s brigade gave efficient help to -Pakenham’s great flank attack at Salamanca in 1812. -But there were some “untoward incidents,” such as the -general bolt at the battle of the Gebora, and the panic<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">235</span> -at the combat of Majadahonda, just before Wellington’s -entry into Madrid. Of the last D’Urban writes,<a id="FNanchor_245" href="#Footnote_245" class="fnanchor">245</a> “My -poor fellows are still a most daily and uncertain sort of -fighting people. At Salamanca they followed me into the -enemy’s ranks like British dragoons; yesterday they were -so far from doing their duty that in the first charge they -just went far enough to land me in the enemy’s ranks. In the -second, which (having got them rallied) I rashly attempted, -I could not get them within 20 yards of the enemy—they -left me alone, and vanished before the French helmets like -leaves before the autumn wind. They require a little -incentive of shouts, and the inspiring cheers of a British -line advancing near them. I am afraid they will never be -quite <em>safe</em> by themselves, or in silence.” These are bitter -words, but the record of Majadahonda is not a creditable -one.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Portuguese Militia</div> - -<p>Of the Portuguese militia and the irregular levies of -the Ordenança it is not necessary to speak here at length. -They formed part of Wellington’s tools for carrying on the -war, but not of his army. For, excepting in the Lines of -Torres Vedras, he never put the militia side by side with -the regulars, but always left them out in the open country, -to watch frontiers or harass French lines of communication. -They were under strict orders not to fight—orders which -enterprising officers like Silveira and Trant sometimes -disobeyed, to their own sorrow. Their duty was to screen -the countryside against small French detachments, to -make the movement of the enemy save in large bodies -impossible, to capture convoys, or to cut off stragglers. -Their most brilliant exploit was the capture of Masséna’s -hospitals at Coimbra in 1810. More could not be expected -from levies only intermittently under arms, not furnished -with proper uniforms, and officered by civilians, or by the -inefficients weeded out of the regular army. They were a -valuable asset in Wellington’s hands, but not a real fighting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">236</span> -force. Even far on in the war, so late as 1812, whole -brigades of them broke up in panic in face of a very small -force of cavalry—as at the unhappy combat of Guarda, -where Trant and Wilson tried to do too much with these -amateurs.</p> - -<p>As to the ordenança or <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">levée en masse</i>, it had not even -the organization of the militia, and was largely armed with -pikes for want of muskets. Its only duty was to infest -the countryside and prevent the enemy from foraging. -The French shot them as “brigands” whenever caught; -it was their natural practice to retaliate by making away -with all stragglers and marauders who fell into their -hands. Wellington offered a bounty for prisoners, but it -was not very often asked for, or paid.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">237</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIV" class="vspace">CHAPTER XIV<br /> - -<span class="subhead">DISCIPLINE AND COURT-MARTIALS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>In the chapters that dealt with the officers and the men -of the Peninsular Army, we have had occasion to speak of -the percentage of undesirables that were to be found in -every rank, and of their special weaknesses and crimes. It -is necessary to explain the way in which the British military -code of the day dealt with them.</p> - -<p>For the officers there was a long gradation of punishments, -ranging down from a simple reprimand to discharge -from the service with ignominy. For the non-commissioned -officers reduction to the ranks was the most -usual chastisement inflicted; but in cases of a particularly -disgraceful sort, the lash was not infrequently allotted as -an additional penalty. For the rank and file flogging was -the universal panacea; the amount of strokes might range -up from a minimum twenty-five strokes—which was a -mere nothing to the habitual offender, but a serious thing -for the good soldier who lost much of his <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">morale</i> when -once he had “gone to the halberds,” even for such a light -punishment. The maximum, a very unusual one, was -1200 strokes, an amount calculated to kill many men, and -to permanently disable many more. But this awful tale -of lashes was not very frequently awarded, being reserved -for bad cases of desertion to the enemy, robbery with -violence, or striking an officer, all of them offences which -might have had death as their punishment. As far as I can -count, 1200 lashes were only awarded nine or ten times by -general court-martial during the whole six years of the war.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">238</span> -The hardly less severe sentence of 1000 lashes was given -more frequently—over 50 cases may be reckoned up—the -offences were the same as those which earned the still heavier -maximum amount. During the latter years of the war, -from 1811 onward, two additional forms of punishment for -very serious crimes were invented. The first, mainly -reserved for deserters who had not gone over to the enemy, -but had simply left the colours and hidden themselves in -the Peninsula, was long service in a colonial corps, such -as the African or the New South Wales Regiment. The -other, a much more severe sentence, was that of penal -servitude, either for a term of years (seven was the usual -period), or for life. The penal settlement to which the -convict was sent is generally stated, and is almost invariably -New South Wales. This sentence was generally awarded -for cases of repeated desertion (not to the enemy) and -habitual theft without violence. The moment that violence -was added to robbery, the offender came within a near -distance of the gallows or of the much-dreaded 1000 lashes—which -often had the same meaning in the end.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Cashiering of Officers</div> - -<p>It may be interesting to give some account of the various -causes for which an officer might incur the heaviest penalty -that could be laid on him—to be cashiered. This sentence -was awarded some thirty times during the war. Twice -only was it the reward of shirking or cowardice. In three -or four cases it was inflicted for swindling merchants; in -as many more for embezzling public money or stores. -Five or six were instances of insulting or openly disobeying -a commanding officer. Three or four cashierings were the -direct result of drink—the offender having been found -intoxicated and incapable while on duty in a responsible -position. The most repulsive case of the whole list was -one where drunkenness was the indirect, but not the actual, -cause of disgrace. Three young officers, at the break up -of a debauch, found the corpse of a priest lying in state -in a room in the quarters where two of them were lodged. -They mishandled it, and cast it forth, stripping off the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">239</span> -vestments, and breaking the candles, etc., with which it -was laid out.<a id="FNanchor_246" href="#Footnote_246" class="fnanchor">246</a> This disgusting freak, apparently caused by -drunken resentment at finding a corpse in close proximity -to their bedroom, drew down a commentary from Wellington -as to the noxious effects of drink—which not only makes -men incapable of performing their duty, but renders them -“unaware of the nature or effect of their actions.”</p> - -<p>The remaining cases of cashiering were for such offences -as public and disgraceful brawling, violently resisting -arrest, and flagrant immorality.<a id="FNanchor_247" href="#Footnote_247" class="fnanchor">247</a> There is just one case -of dismissal from the service for tyranny—that of a colonel -who habitually bullied his officers and inflicted arbitrary -and illegal punishments on his men.<a id="FNanchor_248" href="#Footnote_248" class="fnanchor">248</a> Of this I shall have -to say more in its place.</p> - -<p>All the thirty cashierings cited above are those of -combatant officers. There are about an equal number of -cases in which persons employed under the civil departments -of the army were dismissed the service—commissaries, -purveyors, surgeons, hospital mates, etc. In the commissariat -department (as might have been foreseen) embezzlement -was the snare to unscrupulous men, often far -from the eye of their superior—it was too easy to issue -false vouchers as to the number of men or horses rationed, -or to make corrupt agreements with contractors or local -authorities, certifying that a larger amount of food or forage -had been supplied than had really been given in. Selling -public mules or horses, and returning them as dead, was -another profitable fraud. Two non-combatant employés -of the army (a paymaster and a conductor of stores) were -“broken” for absconding from the army during the battle -of Talavera, and spreading false reports of disaster in the -rear.</p> - -<p>The medical staff, not nearly such frequent offenders<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">240</span> -as the commissariat staff, are occasionally dismissed the -service for brawling and drunkenness, which last inevitably -resulted in the neglect of the wounded on the march or in -hospital.</p> - -<p>After cashiering, the next most serious punishment -inflicted on an officer was suspension from pay and rank for -a term of months, six and three were the usual periods -named. This might be inflicted for any one of a great -variety of offences. By far the most frequent fault was -neglect of details of duty, such as quitting the regiment or -detachment for many hours without leave, allowing a convoy -or a draft to straggle, permitting the rank and file to pull -down cottages for firewood, or to waste crops, or to fell -fruit trees. Sleeping away from the company, in a rather -distant house or village, was another frequent misdemeanour. -We may place second in the category of offences the one -that may be called quarrelling with native authorities. -Owing to high-handed action on the one side, and provocative -sulkiness on the other, these wrangles were very -common. Officers in charge of detachments fell out with -a <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">juiz de fora</i> or a <i xml:lang="es" lang="es">corregidor</i>, or the governor of some petty -garrison, about billets or payments due, and ended by -insulting, occasionally by assaulting, him. This generally -cost the offender six months’ suspension, for Wellington -was resolved that the officers of his army must not override -lawful local authority, and sometimes, in his comments on -a court-martial sentence, asks what would be thought of a -lieutenant who should treat in such a fashion the mayor -of an English borough, or the commandant of an English -fort.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington and Petty Quarrels</div> - -<p>The third list of offences which were usually visited -with shorter or longer “suspension” may be put together -under the general head of relations of officers to each other. -This includes equally oppressive or insulting acts of superiors -to inferiors, and insubordinate conduct of inferiors to -superiors. The latter was far the more common failing, -if the statistics of court-martials may be trusted. But no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">241</span> -doubt allowance must be made for many cases in which a -bullied subaltern preferred to hold his tongue, rather than -to appeal against the acts or language of his captain or -colonel—the failure of his case would leave him in a very -dangerous and unpleasant position for the future. Intemperate -language, or “improper” letters from inferiors -to superiors, are a not uncommon cause of court-martials. -Even colonels occasionally wrote or spoke in insubordinate -terms to generals.<a id="FNanchor_249" href="#Footnote_249" class="fnanchor">249</a> But “answering back” on the part -of subalterns to captains or majors was of course far more -frequent. Wellington grew, on occasion, exceedingly -wrath at reading the reports of court-martials on petty -cases of this kind. We may give a typical comment.</p> - -<p>“I cannot but consider the transaction which has been -the subject of this court-martial as simply a private quarrel, -it has as little connection with the public service or the -discipline and subordination of the army, as any that has -ever come under my notice. It is certainly true that the -private quarrels of officers may be proper subjects for the -investigation of a court-martial. But the complainant, in -order to obtain a decision in his favour, must come with a -fair case. He must not himself have been guilty of any -breach of the general order of the army, or of discipline. -His authority as a superior must not have been exerted -over his inferior (of whom he complains) in order to enjoy -the advantage of his own improper conduct. Above all, -he must have refrained from the use of abusive or improper -language and gestures.”<a id="FNanchor_250" href="#Footnote_250" class="fnanchor">250</a></p> - -<p>Another comment <span class="locked">is—</span></p> - -<p>“The Commander of the Forces cannot but feel that both -his time, and that of the officers composing court-martials,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">242</span> -is occupied very little to the advantage of the public service, -in considering the unbecoming and ungentlemanlike behaviour -of officers to each other.”<a id="FNanchor_251" href="#Footnote_251" class="fnanchor">251</a></p> - -<p>The mildest form of punishment for officers was the -reprimand, which varied much in shape. It might amount -to no more than the publication of the fact that an officer -<em>was</em> reprimanded in the General Orders, without any further -publicity. Or, on the other hand, the sentence of the court-martial -might be directed to be read out to his regiment, -or even to his division, in the most public fashion. And -to the sentence there might be added a caustic and scathing -postscript by the Commander-in-Chief. Take, for example, -“This person may think himself very fortunate that the -sentence of the court has been so lenient. A different -view of the evidence on the charge would have rendered -his dismissal from the service necessary under the Articles -of War. The Commander of the Forces hopes that he will -take warning by what has occurred, and will in future -conduct himself on all occasions as a gentleman should. -This reprimand is to be read to him by the commanding -officer at the station where he may happen to be, in presence -of the officers and troops, paraded for that purpose.”<a id="FNanchor_252" href="#Footnote_252" class="fnanchor">252</a></p> - -<p>Reprimands were generally the punishment for the -smaller derelictions of duty, such as failing to report arrival -at a station, striking a soldier who was insolent instead of -arresting him, brawling with a civilian or a Portuguese -militia officer, or boisterous and unseemly conduct in the -streets when off duty.</p> - -<p>There was no court-martial on an officer for desertion -during the whole war, and only one case of the sort in the -commissioned ranks. This was that of an Irish lieutenant -who passed over to the French outposts while Masséna’s -army was lying behind the lines of Santarem in February, -1811. He was discovered to be insane or suffering from -delusions, being captured during Masséna’s retreat, while<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">243</span> -wandering in an objectless way in the rear of the enemy’s -march: he was sent to a mad-house.<a id="FNanchor_253" href="#Footnote_253" class="fnanchor">253</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Executions for Desertion</div> - -<p>As to the punishments of the soldier, the heaviest was -death, either by the bullets of a firing party, or by the -Provost Marshal’s gallows. Shooting was almost exclusively -reserved for the military offence of desertion to the -enemy; but it was two or three times awarded for mutiny -and striking an officer or sergeant, and once only (as far as -I can make out) to a non-commissioned officer for robbing -valuable stores which he had been set to guard.<a id="FNanchor_254" href="#Footnote_254" class="fnanchor">254</a> It would -have been more usual to hang for the latter offence, and -I do not know why this particular case was punished with -shooting. There seem to have been 78 men shot in all -during the war, of whom 52 were British, and 26 foreigners. -The disproportion, of course, is enormous, as there were -some fifty or sixty British battalions in the army, and only -ten foreign battalions.<a id="FNanchor_255" href="#Footnote_255" class="fnanchor">255</a> Among the last the main body -of deserters were supplied by two battalions only, the -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Chasseurs Britanniques</i> and Brunswick Oels Jägers, both -of which corps were largely recruited, as has been already -explained, from Germans, Italians, Poles, and other aliens -from prison camps at home. They had volunteered into the -British service in order to get the chance of escape, and took -it at the first opportunity. The deserters from the King’s -German Legion were in proportion very few. During the -last two years of the war many of these foreign deserters -were not shot, but given life service in a colonial corps, -in places such as New South Wales, from which they could -not desert again. Some others got off with a heavy sentence -of flogging.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Punishment of Hanging</div> - -<p>Hanging was the penalty for practically all capital -offences except desertion to the enemy. It was not so frequent -as shooting. The records of the General Court-Martials<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">244</span> -show a total of about forty executions, and a few more -were apparently carried out by the Provost Marshal on -criminals caught <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">flagrante delicto</i> murdering or wounding -peasants.</p> - -<p>The punishment of hanging covered many offences. It -is rather surprising to find that two men who killed their -officers (one in the Buffs, one in the 42nd) were hanged -rather than shot—but apparently each case was ruled to -be one of private spite, and not of mutiny, and was treated -as simple murder. There were six or eight instances of -men who slew a comrade in the ranks, by deliberate assassination, -not in a quarrel, and were hanged for it. It may -be noted, however, that one private who stabbed an unfaithful -wife, at the moment of detection, was found guilty -of manslaughter and given one year’s imprisonment only. -Far the most frequent cause for the use of the gallows, -however, was the killing or wounding of peasants who -attempted to defend their houses or cattle from plunder. -This was a crime for which Wellington seldom if ever gave -pardon; he was as inflexible on the point in the hostile land -of France as in the friendly Spain and Portugal. It did -not matter whether the peasants were killed or not—the -use of musket or bayonet against them in pursuit of plunder -was the thing that mattered. There are certainly some -most atrocious cases in the list, where a whole family had -been murdered or left for dead. But in others, where the -violence had been no more than a blow with a butt-end, or -a bayonet prod in the shoulder, the offenders seem to have -been unlucky in not getting off with a sound flogging. -But in Wellington’s code petty stealing without violence -was punished with the lash, but armed robbery with death.</p> - -<p>In an age when in England theft to the value of over -forty shillings was still punishable in theory with death, -(though the penalty was more often evaded than not), it is -not surprising to find that some of the cases of hanging in -Wellington’s army were for mere stealing. But it was -always for stealing on a large scale, or under aggravated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">245</span> -circumstances. Mere petty larceny led to the lash only. -The most notable achievement in this line was that of -two foreigners who succeeded in breaking open the commissary-general’s -chest and stole no less than £2000 from -it; others were those of a soldier-servant who absconded -with his master’s mule, baggage, and purse; of a sentry -over the tent of a brigadier, who took the opportunity of -making off with the general’s silver camp-equipage and -plate; and of a man who being on treasure-escort, succeeded -in opening a barrel and stealing some hundreds of -dollars from it. In two or three instances large sums of -£40 or £60, burglariously stolen from the house or tent of -an officer, a commissary, or a sutler, brought men to the -gallows. Finally, there was one case of hanging for the -crime of sodomy—which was still a capital offence in -English law for more than thirty years after the Peninsular -War ended.</p> - -<p>There are one or two instances on record of rather surprising -leniency in the sentences inflicted by court-martial -for crimes which in most other cases entailed the death-penalty—<i>e.g.</i> -plundering and wounding a peasant was on -two occasions in 1814 punished with 900 and 1000 lashes -only, and three artillerymen, who stole the watch, purse, -and papers of the Spanish General Giron, got off with -transportation to New South Wales, instead of suffering -the hanging that was usual for such a serious offence. A -dragoon convicted of rape in 1814 was lucky also in -receiving no more than a heavy flogging. No doubt there -was in such light sentences some consideration of previous -good conduct and steady service on the part of the -offenders.</p> - -<p>We have already spoken of the penalties which came -next after death in the list—the terrible 1200 and 1000 -lash awards, and of the crimes which usually earned them. -Much more frequent were the 700, 500, and 300 lash sentences, -which are to be numbered by the hundred, and -were awarded, as a rule, for casual theft without violence,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">246</span> -making away with necessaries (<i>e.g.</i> selling blankets or -ball-cartridge to peasants), or “embargoing” carts and -oxen, <i>i.e.</i> pressing transport from the countryside without -leave, to carry baggage or knapsacks when a small party, -without an officer in charge, was on the move. Purloining -shoes or food from a convoy was another frequent offence, -worth about 500 lashes to the detected culprit. The bee-hive -stealers of the retreat from Talavera got 700 lashes -each—a heavy sentence for such a crime. The tale concerning -them is too good to be omitted.</p> - -<p>After the general order against plundering from the -peasantry was issued at Jaraicejo to the half-starved army, -Sir Arthur Wellesley, in a cross-country ride, saw a man -of the Connaught Rangers posting along as fast as his legs -could carry him, with his great coat wrapped around his -head, and a bee-hive balanced upon it, with a swarm of -furious bees buzzing around. Furious at such a flagrant -breach of orders issued only on the previous day, the -Commander-in-Chief called out to him, “Hullo, sir, where -did you get that bee-hive?” Pat could not see his interlocutor, -having completely shrouded his face to keep off -stings: he did not pay sufficient heed to the <em>tone</em> of the -question, which should have warned him, and answered -in a fine Milesian brogue, “Just over the hill there, and, -by Jasus, if ye don’t make haste they’ll be all gone.”<a id="FNanchor_256" href="#Footnote_256" class="fnanchor">256</a> The -blind good-nature of the reply stayed the General’s anger; -he let Pat pass, and told the story at dinner with a laugh. -But the order was no joke to the men of the 53rd caught -at the same game a few days after.<a id="FNanchor_257" href="#Footnote_257" class="fnanchor">257</a> They got the nickname -of the “honeysuckers” along with their flogging.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Charles Reilly’s Excuse</div> - -<p>There is another tale of “embargoing” belonging to -the regimental history of the Connaught Rangers, which -may serve as a pendant to that about the bee-hives.</p> - -<p>Early in 1812 a commissary had pressed country carts<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">247</span> -to go to the Douro, to bring back pipes of wine for the -troops. On such occasions, with a hilly country and very -tedious work, the men would often contrive, in spite of the -vigilance of the subaltern in charge of the convoy, to let -the driver escape with his bullocks for a pecuniary consideration. -Other carts were then illegally pressed as -substitutes. On one of these occasions a detachment of -the 88th regiment was sent to St. João da Pesqueira for -some wine. On their return, the commissary observed -that the two fine white bullocks, which he had sent with -one cart, had been exchanged for two very inferior blacks. -He made his regular complaint, and the two men in charge, -a corporal and private, were brought to a court-martial. -On the trial everything was proved, save the act of receiving -money from the driver to allow the white bullocks to escape; -and the president, on summing up the evidence of the -commissary, said to the prisoners, “It is quite useless denying -the fact; it is conclusive. You started from hence -with a pair of fine white bullocks, and you brought back -a pair of lean blacks. What can you have to say to that?” -Private Charles Reilly, noways abashed at this, which every -one thought a poser, and ready with any excuse to save -himself from punishment, immediately exclaimed, “Och! -plaise your honour, and wasn’t the white beasts lazy, and -didn’t we bate them until they were black?” The court -was not quite satisfied of the truth of this wonderful metamorphosis, -and they were condemned to be punished (<em>see</em> -General Order, Freneda, January 22, 1812)—the corporal to -be broke and get 700 lashes, Reilly to get 500. But in -consideration of the great gallantry displayed by the 88th -at the storm of Ciudad Rodrigo a few days before, the -culprits were in the end pardoned.</p> - -<p>All these cases quoted are from records of general court-martials. -But of course the huge majority of floggings -were inflicted by regimental courts, which had jurisdiction -over all minor offences, such as drunkenness, disobedience, -and petty breaches of discipline inside the regiment, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">248</span> -could not give the heavier sentences such as death or -transportation, or the 1000 lashes.</p> - -<p>A glance through the records of court-martials shows -that some battalions gave much more than their proper -percentage of criminals, some much less. Two main causes -governed the divergence: the first was that some corps -got more than their share of bad recruits—wild Irish or -town scum; but I fancy that the character of the commanding -officer was even more important than the precise -proportion of undesirables drafted into the ranks. A -colonel who could make himself loved as well as feared -could reclaim even very unpromising recruits: a tyrant -or an incapable could turn even well-disposed men into -bad soldiers. It is clear that an excessively easy-going -and slack commanding officer, who winked at irregularities, -and discouraged zeal among his officers, ruined a battalion -as surely as the most inhuman martinet. Among the court-martials -of the Peninsular Army there are very few on -colonels—not half a dozen. But one chances to be on a -tyrant, and the other on a <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">fainéant</i>, and the evidence seems -to show that the latter got his corps into quite as wretched -condition as the former. Though he received over the -regiment, as every one allowed, in excellent order, in a few -months of slack administration and relaxed discipline, it -became not only drunken and slovenly, but so slow on the -march, and at the rendezvous, that the other units in the -brigade had always to be waiting for it, and the brigadier -complained that he could not trust it at the outposts. -The officers, gradually coming to despise their colonel, -treated him with contempt, and finally sent in a round-robin -to the Horse Guards, accusing him not only of incapacity -but of cowardice, which last, in the court-martial -which followed, was held to be an unfounded charge.<a id="FNanchor_258" href="#Footnote_258" class="fnanchor">258</a> The -colonel, as a result of the investigation, was reprimanded, -and put on half-pay; his subordinates, for grave breach of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">249</span> -discipline, were all drafted into other regiments, and a new -body of picked officers was brought together, to reorganize -a corps which was evidently in a thoroughly demoralized -condition; the new-comers got the nickname of the -“Elegant Extracts.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A Tyrannical Colonel</div> - -<p>The reverse-picture, of a regiment ruined by arbitrary -strictness and inhuman exaggeration of punishments, may -be studied in the records of a court-martial held in the -spring of 1813.<a id="FNanchor_259" href="#Footnote_259" class="fnanchor">259</a> In this case a commanding officer was -found guilty not only of “violent conduct” and “using -intemperate and improper language to his officers, being -in breach of good discipline, and unbecoming the character -of an officer and a gentleman,” but of inflicting corporal -punishment at large without any form of trial, when there -were sufficient officers present to form a proper regimental -court-martial; of disobeying the direction of the Commander-in-Chief -by piling up sentences of flogging passed -on men on different occasions, so as to inflict several separate -punishments at the same time, and of releasing men sentenced -to punishment in order to send them into action, -and then returning them to arrest after the battle in order -to receive their lashes. This last was specially in conflict -with Wellington’s orders, for he held that good conduct in -action ought to work out a sentence, pronounced but not -inflicted, and that no man convicted of a disgraceful offence -ought to be put into line till he had expiated it by undergoing -his punishment. This officer was dismissed the -service, but, in consideration of a good fighting record in -the past, was allowed the value of his commission as -major.</p> - -<p>One diary from the ranks, that of Donaldson of the -94th, gives a very interesting and complete picture of the -fate of a battalion which, by the invaliding of its colonel, -had fallen into the hands of a major who had the soul of a -tyrant. This was a case of an old ranker who knew too<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">250</span> -much of soldiers’ tricks, and had a sort of system of espionage -through men who were prepared to act as his toadies and -secret informers. “By this eaves-dropping he knew all -the little circumstances which another commanding officer -would have disdained to listen to, and always made a bad -use of his knowledge. When he got command of the -regiment he introduced flogging for every trivial offence, -and in addition invented disgraceful and torturing modes -of inflicting the lash. But this was not enough—he ordered -that all defaulters should have a patch of black and yellow -cloth sewed on to the sleeve of their jacket, and a hole cut -in it for every time they were punished. The effect was -soon visible: as good men were liable to be punished for -the slightest fault, the barrier between them and hardened -ill-doers was broken down, and those who had lost respect -in their own eyes became broken-hearted and inefficient -soldiers, or else grew reckless and launched out into real -crime. Those who were hardened and unprincipled before, -being brought by the prevalence of punishments nearer to -a level with the better men, seemed to glory in misconduct. -In short, all idea of honour and character was lost, and -listless apathy and bad conduct became the prevailing -features of the corps. Reckless punishment changed the -individual’s conduct in two ways—he either became broken-hearted -and useless, or else shameless and hardened.... -The real method of accomplishing the desired end of keeping -good discipline, is for the officers to make themselves -acquainted with the personal character and disposition of -each man under their command. A commanding officer -has as good a right to make himself acquainted with the -disposition of his men, as the medical officer with their -constitutions.”<a id="FNanchor_260" href="#Footnote_260" class="fnanchor">260</a> When the colonel came back from sick -leave he was shocked to find the men he had been so proud -of treated in this manner. His first act was to cut off the -yellow badge; his second to do away with the frequent -punishments. But though the regiment was again on a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">251</span> -fair footing, it was long before the effect of a few months’ -ill-usage disappeared.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Good-Conduct Medals</div> - -<p>What certain misguided officers tried to maintain by a -reign of terror, was sought in other ways by wiser men. -It is to the Peninsular War period that we owe the first -of our “Long Service and Good Conduct” medals—all at -first regimental, and not given by the State. Honorary -distinctions for the well-conducted man are both a more -humane and a more rational form of differentiation between -good and bad than the black and yellow badge for every -man punished for any cause, which the detestable major -quoted above tried to introduce.<a id="FNanchor_261" href="#Footnote_261" class="fnanchor">261</a> In addition some -regiments instituted a division of the men into classes, of -which the best behaved had graduated privileges and -benefits. Any man after a certain period of certified good -conduct could be moved up into a higher class, and the -emulation not to be left among the recognized black-sheep -had a very good effect.<a id="FNanchor_262" href="#Footnote_262" class="fnanchor">262</a> But even without “classes” or -good-conduct medals, the best could be got out of any -regiment by wise and considerate conduct on the part of -the officers. There were corps where the lash was practically -unknown,<a id="FNanchor_263" href="#Footnote_263" class="fnanchor">263</a> and others where it had only been felt by a very -small minority of hopeless irreclaimables.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, there is a record or two of punishments -in a unit, inflicted by officers who do not seem to -have been regarded by public opinion as specially tyrannical -or heartless, which fills the reader with astonishment. I -have analysed the list of men noted for chastisement in -one battery of artillery, where on an effective of 4 sergeants -and 136 rank and file, three of the former had been “broken,” -and 57 of the latter had received punishments varying<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">252</span> -downwards from 500 lashes, in the space of twelve months -(July, 1812, to July, 1813), over which the record extends. -Though some of the offences were serious enough, there -were others for which the use of the cat appears altogether -misplaced and irrational. As an observer in another corps -wrote “the frequency of flogging at one time had the effect -of blinding the judgment of officers who possessed both -feeling and discrimination. I have known one who shed -tears when his favourite horse was injured, and next day -exulted in seeing a poor wretch flogged whose offence was -being late in delivering an order.”</p> - -<p>Floggings were inflicted by the drummers of the regiment, -under the superintendence of the drum-major and the -adjutant. The culprit was bound by his extended arms -to two of three sergeants’ halberds, planted in the ground in -a triangle, and lashed together at the top. The strokes were -inflicted at the tap of a drum beaten in slow time. Each -of the wielders of the cat retired after having given twenty-five -lashes. The surgeon was always present, to certify -that the man’s life was not in danger by the further continuance -of the punishment, and the prisoner was taken -down the moment that the medical man declared that he -could stand no more. Often this interference saved a culprit -from the end of his punishment, as if the tale was fairly -complete he might never be called upon to undergo the -balance. But in grave cases the prisoner was merely sent -into hospital till he was sufficiently convalescent to endure -the payment of the remainder of his account. Inhuman -commanding officers sometimes refused to allow of any -abatement, even when the crime had not been a very -serious one, and insisted that the whole sentence should be -executed, even if the culprit had to go twice into hospital -before it was completed.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A Memory of a Flogging</div> - -<p>The autobiographical record of a flogging is rather -rare—the diarist in the ranks was generally a steady sort -of fellow, who did not get into the worst trouble. The -following may serve as an example, however. It is that of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">253</span> -William Lawrence of the 1/40th, who in 1809 was a private, -though he won his sergeant’s stripes in 1813.</p> - -<p>“I absented myself without leave from guard for -twenty-four hours, and when I returned I found I was in a -fine scrape, for I was immediately put in the guard-room. -It was my first offence, but that did not screen me much, -and I was sentenced to 400 lashes. I found the regiment -assembled all ready to witness my punishment: the place -chosen for it was the square of a convent. As soon as I -had been brought up by the guard, the sentence of the -court-martial was read over to me by the colonel, and I was -told to strip, which I did firmly, and without using the -help that was offered me, as I had by that time got hardened -to my lot. I was then lashed to the halberds, and the -colonel gave the order for the drummers to commence, -each one having to give me twenty-five lashes in turn. -I bore it very well until I had received 175, when I got so -enraged with the pain that I began pushing the halberds, -which did not stand at all firm (being planted on stones), -right across the square, amid the laughter of the regiment. -The colonel, I suppose thinking then that I had had sufficient, -‘ordered the sulky rascal down’ in those very words. -Perhaps a more true word could not have been spoken, -for indeed I was sulky. I did not give vent to a sound the -whole time, though the blood ran down my trousers from -top to bottom. I was unbound, and a corporal hove my -shirt and jacket over my shoulder, and convoyed me to -hospital, presenting as miserable a picture as I possibly -could.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps it was as good a thing for me as could then -have happened, as it prevented me from committing -greater crimes, which might at last have brought me to -my ruin. But I think a good deal of that punishment might -have been abandoned, with more credit to those who then -ruled the army.”<a id="FNanchor_264" href="#Footnote_264" class="fnanchor">264</a> Yet to be absent twenty-four hours when -on guard was certainly a serious crime.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">254</span> -Lawrence got off with 175 lashes out of 400 ordered, -but was in hospital nearly three weeks. But 300 or 400 -lashes were often inflicted at a time, and there were men -who could take them without a groan.</p> - -<p>“Corporal punishment was going on all the year round,” -writes a veteran officer of the 34th,<a id="FNanchor_265" href="#Footnote_265" class="fnanchor">265</a> “men were flogged for -the small offences, and for the graver ones often flogged to -death—the thousand lashes were often awarded by court-martial. -I have seen men suffer 500 and even 700 before -being ‘taken down,’ the blood running down into their -shoes, and their backs flayed like raw red-chopped sausages. -Some of them bore this awful punishment without flinching -for 200 or 300 lashes, chewing a musket ball or a bit of -leather to prevent or stifle the cry of agony: after that -they did not seem to feel the same torture. Sometimes the -head drooped over to one side, but the lashing still went -on, the surgeon in attendance examining the patient from -time to time to see what more he could bear. I <em>did</em> see, -with horror, one prisoner receive the 700 before he was -taken down. This was the sentence of a court-martial, -carried into effect in the presence of the whole brigade, for -an example.<a id="FNanchor_266" href="#Footnote_266" class="fnanchor">266</a> We certainly had very bad characters sent -out to fill the gaps in our ranks, sweepings of prisons in -England and Ireland: but such punishments were inhuman, -and I made up my mind that, if ever I had the chance of -commanding a regiment, I would act on another principle. -That time <em>did</em> come. I <em>did</em> command a gallant corps for -eleven years, and I abolished the lash.”</p> - -<p>But enough of such horrors. The memory of them is -a nightmare.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">255</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XV" class="vspace">CHAPTER XV<br /> - -<span class="subhead">THE ARMY ON THE MARCH</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>It is rare in Peninsular literature to find any general -descriptions of the normal working of the military machine. -In personal diaries or reminiscences the author takes for -granted a knowledge of the daily life of the army, which -was so familiar to himself, and only makes remarks or notes -when something abnormal happened. Official documents, -on the other hand, are nearly always concerned with changes -or modifications in routine. They explain and comment -upon the reasons why some particular detail of practice -must be abandoned, or be more strictly enforced, but they -do not give descriptive accounts of the whole system of -which that detail is a part. A notion as to the methods on -which Wellington’s army was moved could be got together -by the comparison of a great many of his “General Orders.” -But, fortunately, we are spared much trouble in the compilation -of such a sketch by the fact that, for once, it is -possible to lay one’s hand on a careful detailed narrative of -how the army marched. It is to be found in the anonymous -introduction to the second edition of <cite>Selected General -Orders</cite>, which Gurwood published in 1837. It was -apparently not by the editor himself, as he states in his -introductory note that it “was written, as a critique, at the -suggestion of the author of a distinguished periodical -review; but being found too long and too professional -for columns usually destined to literature or politics, it was -not inserted.”<a id="FNanchor_267" href="#Footnote_267" class="fnanchor">267</a> Since authors do not review their own<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">256</span> -books, it is clear that this critique was written by some -friend, not by Gurwood himself. It extends to about -thirty-seven pages, of which nine are devoted to the long -and interesting sketch of Wellington’s army on the march, -which is reproduced in the following paragraphs. The author, -writing for the general public, not for the professional -public, tells us precisely what we want to know.</p> - -<p>“The orders for movement from the Commander of the -Forces were communicated by the Quarter Master General -to the General Officers commanding divisions, who detailed -them, through their Assistant Quarter Master Generals, to -the Generals of brigades, who gave them out immediately -to the battalions of their brigades, through the Brigade -Majors. The drum, the bugle and the trumpet sounded the -preparation for the march at a certain hour, generally one -hour and a half before daylight, in order that the several -battalions might be assembled on the brigade alarm-posts, -so as to be ready to march off from the ground precisely at -daylight. It must be observed that the alarm-post is the -place of assembly in the event of alarm; it was generally, -and should always be, the place of parade.</p> - -<p>“It is singular to refer to these orders to see how a -division of 6000 men, and so on in any proportion, rolled -up in their blankets ‘in the arms of Murphy,’ were all -dressed, with blankets rolled, packed, equipped, squadded, -paraded in companies, told off in subdivisions, sections, -and sections of threes, marched by companies to the -regimental alarm-posts, and finally to that of the brigade, -formed in close columns, all by sounds as familiar to the -soldier as the clock at the Horse Guards to a corporal of the -Blues. Guns were paraded, baggage packed and loaded, -Commissariat mules with the reserve biscuit, the Storekeeper -with the spare ammunition-bullocks placed under -charge, all assembled with the same precision and order, -ready to march off under the direction of the Assistant -Quarter Master General attached to the division or corps, -who had previously assembled the guides, whom he attached<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">257</span> -to the column or columns directed to be marched to the -points or towns named in the Quarter Master General’s -instructions. In the mean time the formidable Provost -Marshal attached to the division made his patrols.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Starting the March</div> - -<p>“The report of ‘All Present’ being made in succession -by the Brigade Majors to the Assistant Adjutant General, -and by him to the General commanding the column, the -word ‘By sections of threes, march,’ was given, from the -right or left, as directed in the Quarter Master General’s -instructions, the whole being formed either right or left in -front, according to the views of the General in command of -the army. The advanced guard of the column was then -formed under the superintendence of the Brigade Major -of the Brigade, right or left in front. This advanced guard -consisted of one company of varying strength. The whole -was marched off at sloped arms, with the greatest precision -and regularity, and remained in that order until the word -‘March at ease’ was given to the leading battalion, which -was successively taken up by the others in the rear. The -women, in detached parties, either preceded the column or -followed it—none were permitted to accompany it; they -generally remained with the baggage, excepting when their -finances enabled them to make little speculations in bread -and <em>comfort</em> in the villages or towns in the neighbourhood -of the line of march. The Assistant Provost Marshal with -his guard and delinquents brought up the rear of the column, -followed by the rear guard, under an officer who took up -all the stragglers, whom he lodged in the main guard on his -arrival, where those who had received tickets of permission -to fall out were directed to join their corps, non-commissioned -officers being in waiting to receive them.</p> - -<p>“The first halt was generally made at the expiration of -half an hour from the departure, and afterwards once an -hour; each halt lasted at least five minutes after the men -had piled their arms; this might vary a little, as the -weather, distance, or other circumstances of the march -might point out. The object of halting was for the purpose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">258</span> -of allowing those who had fallen out to rejoin their companies, -which, excepting in cases of sickness, usually occurred; -as a man wanting to fall out was obliged to obtain a ticket -from the officer commanding his company so to do, and to -leave his pack and his firelock to be carried by his comrades -of his section of threes; he therefore lost no time to return -to his rank, and give back his ticket. This first halt was -generally passed in eating a piece of bread or meat set aside -for the march—arranging the accoutrements, pack, haversack, -and canteen, so as to sit well—in jokes about the last -night’s quarters or bivouac, or in the anticipations of the -next. At the expiration of the halt the drum or bugle -sounded the ‘Fall-in,’ and, by word of command, the -leading battalion proceeded in the same order as in the -beginning of the march; the other battalions following in -succession, always with music; then ‘March at ease’ as -before; but when the word ‘Attention’ was given, the -whole sloped arms and marched in the same order as at a -field-day; this was always done in formations previous to -the halt.</p> - -<p>“When the army was not near the enemy, two officers -preceded each battalion on its march, one of them twenty-four -hours before the battalion, and, on his arrival at the -station pointed out, received the necessary information -from the Assistant Quarter Master General. The other -officer marched the same day in charge of the camp-colour -men of each company, so as to arrive early, and take -over the quarters from the officer who went on the day -before.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Distribution of Billets</div> - -<p>“The Deputy Assistant Quarter Master General always -preceded these officers, to make arrangements with the -magistrates as to quarters: and the town was parcelled -out by him, in proportion to the strength of the several -battalions or corps, to their respective officers; they -divided it according to their judgment to the ten orderlies, -who chalked on the doors the letter of the company and -number of men to occupy, as also the officers’ quarters,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">259</span> -which invariably were in the quarters of the company. -The officer first marked off the quarters of the Commanding -Officer, staff, orderly-room, guard-room, Quarter Master’s -stores, all in the most central position in the quarters of the -regiment. The first officer then proceeded to the next -station; the second officer and the ten orderlies proceeded -to the road by which the troops were to arrive, and accompanied -them to the alarm-post fixed for them: which spot -the Assistant Quarter Master General, under the direction -of the General in command, had pointed out, either in front -or in rear of the town. Here they halted in column, as also -assembled the following morning, or at any other time that -the alarm or assembly might be sounded. The brigades, -the battalions, and the companies each had their respective -alarm-posts or places of formation in the most central parts -of their quarters. The officers commanding companies -then put their men up, and made reports to the Officer -Commanding as to the accommodation, or the want of it, -the officers commanding battalions to those commanding -brigades, and the Generals of Brigades to the General of -the Division. The Assistant Quarter Master General was -always ready to be appealed to, in case of a battalion being -crowded, to afford further accommodation, as there was -generally some building or street reserved in a central -position for this purpose, or in the event of detachments -of other corps arriving.</p> - -<p>“When the column was to bivouac in huts, or, as afterwards, -encamp in tents, there occurred less difficulty. On -arrival on the position pointed out in the Quarter Master -General’s instructions, the General commanding chose what -he considered the most favourable ground in accordance -with needs as to front, communications with his flanks and -rear, reference to wood and water, and the health of the -ground, avoiding proximity to marshes, where the night -damps might affect the troops. The Assistant Quarter -Master General disposed of this ground to the several -officers sent on in advance by the battalions for that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">260</span> -purpose, as before described in quarters. The General then -proceeded to the front, and indicated where he wished his -advanced piquets to be posted, to be in communication -with the outposts of the cavalry in front, or, if there were -none, to cover all the approaches with detached posts and -sentries, so that nothing should be able to arrive by any -of them without being seen and stopped; or if patrols or -other movements of the enemy should take place, either -by night or day, that the same might be made known by -the chain of sentries to the detached posts and outlying -piquets, and communicated to the main body, if thought -necessary, by the Field Officer of the outlying piquets. -Preconcerted signals of setting fire to beacons, or a certain -number of musket shots fired, communicated the alarm -more quickly, and allowed the troops more time to get under -arms, until the precise cause of the alarm was ascertained.</p> - -<p>“The division having arrived on its ground, the outlying -piquets were immediately marched off to take the -covering of the front just described. The temporary -division-hospital, and the Commissariat magazines, being -pointed out to the Commanding Officers, Surgeons, and -Quarter Masters, the brigades and battalions proceeded to -their respective alarm-posts and ground for the encampment -or bivouac, accompanied by the officers and the -camp-colour men as before stated. The quarter and rear -guards were then mounted, to be relieved always in two -hours afterwards by fresh troops. The sentries from the -quarter guards watched the communications to the front, -and to the detached posts between the camp and the outlying -piquets, to communicate alarm if announced in any -manner from the front.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Tents and Huts</div> - -<p>“If the troops were to encamp, the tent mules, which -always immediately followed the column, under charge of -an officer, preceding all other baggage, were unloaded, and -the company’s tents pitched in column on the alignment -given to the battalion, brigade, and division.</p> - -<p>“If there were no tents, then the bill-hooks came<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">261</span> -speedily into play: regular squads were formed for cutting -branches, others for drawing them to the lines, and others -as the architects for constructing the huts: this was an -amusement more than a duty, and it was quite wonderful -to see how speedily every one was under cover. It was the -pride of each company that their officers’ huts should be -the first and the best built. The soldier became quite -re-invigorated by the mere act of piling arms, getting off -his accoutrements, pack, haversack, and other incumbrances, -which weigh generally about sixty pounds, and set -to work in right earnest at the hut-building. Although the -huts were not quite so speedily erected, or pitched with the -same regularity, as the tents, yet still the order and alignment -were preserved when the ground permitted. This -might not have been essential, yet still no opportunity -should be allowed to escape in inculcating the habit of -order and regularity in whatever is done by the soldier; -and, however simple the act, it should be impressed on his -mind, that what is ordered is the easiest, and that what is -his duty is his interest.</p> - -<p>“The regular fatigue parties for bread, meat, and spirits -were regularly told off and warned, before the companies -were dismissed to pitch tents or build huts. These parties -consisted generally of two or three men per company, under -a corporal, for each particular article of provisions, to be -ready to turn out when that article was called at the -quarter guard. A company’s guard or watch, of a corporal -and four privates, furnishing one sentry with side arms only, -always remained in the lines of the company to repeat -communications and preserve order.</p> - -<p>“The Commanding Officers made their reports through -the Majors of brigade, that their respective battalions had -received bread, meat, spirits, and forage, specifying the -number of days for each; that they had marched off one -or more companies, of such and such strength, for the outlying -piquets, to the posts directed under the orders of the -Field Officer of the outlying piquets; and that the orderlies<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">262</span> -who had accompanied them had returned, knowing where -to find them. The outlying piquets were under the Field -Officer of the day, who again received his instructions from -the Assistant Adjutant General of the division. The -Commanding Officers at the same time reported the force -of the company or inlying piquet, which were ready to turn -out to support the outlying piquet in the event of being -required, and were under the Field Officer of the day of the -inlying piquets, and kept on their accoutrements, although -in other respects, like the remaining companies, not on duty, -and in their tents or huts. The company on inlying -piquet, as also the Field Officer of the day in charge of the -whole of the companies of the brigade, were always first -for the outlying piquet.</p> - -<p>“All particular duties were taken by companies, under -their own officers, and not by the old way of individual -roster of so many men per company; such were the company -for outlying piquet; the company for inlying piquet, which -gave the quarter and rear guards within the lines; the first -company for general fatigue, from which the Quarter -Master’s fatigues were taken for ammunition, equipment, -working parties, and all other fatigues, excepting rations; -all these duties were taken by the roster of companies.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">On Drawing Rations</div> - -<p>“The issue of rations was regulated by the Quarter -Master and Commissariat, agreeably to the instructions of -the General commanding the division or brigade, communicated -in orders to the battalions, and was done regimentally -by individuals from all the companies, and not -by the company on general fatigue. On the issue of any -article, such as bread, meat, wine, or forage, the fatigue -parties from each company, as before described, were -summoned from the quarter guard by the Quarter Master, -who called out the watch in the lines of each company; -those previously warned for each article turned out under -their respective non-commissioned officers, and assembled -under the officer of the inlying piquet named in the orders -at the quarter guard. He then proceeded with the Quarter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">263</span> -Master or Quarter Master Sergeant to the place of issue; -after the delivery he returned to the quarter guard, reported -to the Captain of the Day, who was the captain of the inlying -piquet, the regularity or irregularity of the particular -issue under his superintendence, and then dismissed the -parties under their several non-commissioned officers to -their respective companies, where the delivery was immediately -made under the orderly Officer of each company. -The same routine took place when in quarters; and, -although the recapitulation may appear tedious, still the -whole was performed with a celerity which leaves more -time to the soldier when in camp than in any other situation.</p> - -<p>“At an appointed hour the sick reports were gathered -from the companies, and the men paraded for the inspection -of the Surgeon; he reported to the Staff Surgeon, who, in -his turn, reported to the General commanding the division, -sending his own report to the Inspector General of Hospitals.</p> - -<p>“The General commanding the division made his -reports to the Adjutant and Quarter Master Generals for -the information of the Commander of the Forces, according -to the importance of the report and the circumstances of -the moment.</p> - -<p>“When before the enemy, the issue of the provisions -and the cooking were attended to with every consideration -to the position of things, so that what was to be done -should be done with speed as well as precaution; for it -would be bad management to throw away the soup before -it was well made, or swallow it boiling hot, in case of -interruption, and still worse to leave it to the enemy. All -this is sufficiently dwelt upon in the Duke’s ‘Circular -Letter,’ and in the admirable orders of General Robert -Craufurd, from whence the greater part of the foregoing -details were learned and proved in the field.<a id="FNanchor_268" href="#Footnote_268" class="fnanchor">268</a></p> - -<p>“The new tin camp-kettle, carried alternately by the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">264</span> -men of each squad, was a great improvement upon the old -Flanders iron cauldron, which required a whole tree, or the -half of a church door, to make it boil; and which, being -carried on the camp-kettle mule (afterwards appropriated -to carry the tents), only arrived with the baggage. This -improvement, as the Duke truly observed in his ‘October -Minute,’ left much valuable time disposable for other -purposes. It is to be hoped that in any future wars some -improvement will also take place in the weight and temper -of the old bill-hook, which, in the early part of the -Peninsular War, was immoderately heavy, and had edges -which, on attempting to cut any wood not absolutely green, -bent like lead: many of the men threw these away, but the -more prudent <em>exchanged</em> them for the lighter and better -tempered bill-hook used by the Portuguese in their vineyards, -exchange being no robbery with our fellows.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Miseries of Wet Weather</div> - -<p>“In the camp or bivouac, in fine weather, all went on -merrily, but there came moments of which the mere -remembrance even now recalls ancient twitches of rheumatism, -which the iron frame of the most hardy could not -always resist. On the night previous to General Craufurd’s -affair on the Coa, on those previous to the battle of Salamanca -and the battle of Waterloo, and on many other less -anxious nights, not hallowed by such recollections, deluges -of rain not only drenched the earth, but unfortunately all -that rested or tried to rest upon it; the draining through -the hut from above by some ill-placed sticks in the roof, -like lightning conductors, conveyed the subtle fluid where -it was the least wanted; while the floods coursing under, -drove away all possibility of sleep: repose was, of course, -out of the question, when even the worms would come out -of the earth, it being far too wet for them. ‘In such a night -as this’ it was weary work to await the lagging dawn with -a craving stomach; and, worse still, to find nothing but a -bellyful of bullets for breakfast. But, on the Pyrenees, in -the more fortunate and healthy days of tents, it was not -unusual, when the mountain blast and torrents of rain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">265</span> -drew up the pegs of the tents, for them to fall, as nothing -in nature falls, squash on the soldier, who lay enveloped -and floundering in the horrible wet folds of canvas. Then -nothing but the passing joke ‘Boat a-hoy!’ or the roars of -laughter caused by some wag, who made this acme of misery -into mirth, could re-animate to the exertion of scrambling -out of these clammy winding-sheets. These are recollections, -however, which, notwithstanding the sufferings in -the experience of them, and their legacies of rheumatism, -still afford pleasurable feelings to the old soldier, now laid -up by his Christmas fireside.”</p> - -<p>To this long and lively description by an anonymous -Peninsular veteran (probably from the Light Division) of -the way in which Wellington’s army moved, we need only -add a few words by way of caution and supplement. The -smoothly-working regularity which it described could not -always be secured in actual practice. There were marches -where the system could not be carried out, by reason of -hurry, unexpected changes of direction, and the vagaries -of the weather. When some sudden movement of the -French forced the Duke to throw his army on a route that -he had not intended to take, the elaborate provision of -officers going before to act as harbingers could not be -carried out. When a division halted, late at night, at some -unforeseen destination, there could be neither the selection -of billets, nor (in the open field) the erection of huts described -above. All had to be done more or less haphazard in the -dark. In hot or stormy weather stragglers were numerous, -and the “ticket” routine broke down altogether. The -description above will do for long orderly movements like -the advance on Madrid in 1812, or the march to Vittoria, -in 1813, but it fails to reproduce the impression of confusion -and misery caused by the perusal of any good narrative -of the Burgos retreat, or of the disorder in the hasty marches -to intercept Soult on the eve of the battles of the Pyrenees. -A quotation from a diarist in the ranks,<a id="FNanchor_269" href="#Footnote_269" class="fnanchor">269</a> giving a picture<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">266</span> -of the first-named march may suffice to give the reverse of -the shield.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Retreat from Burgos</div> - -<p>“Retreating before the enemy at any time is a grievous -business, but in such weather as that of November, 1812, -it was doubly so. The rain pouring down in torrents -drenched us to the skin, the road, composed of clay soil, -stuck to our shoes so fast that they were torn off our feet. -The nights were dismally dark, the cold winds blew in -heavy gusts, and the roads became gradually worse. After -marching in this state for hours, we halted in a field by the -roadside, piled our arms, and were allowed to dispose of -ourselves as we best could. The moon, wading through -dense masses of clouds, sometimes threw a momentary -gleam on the miserable beings huddled together in every -variety of posture, and trying to rest or to screen themselves -from the cold. Some were lying on the wet ground rolled -in wetter blankets, some placed their knapsack on a stone, -and sat on it, with their blankets wrapped about them, -their heads resting on their knees, their teeth chattering -with cold. Long before daylight we were again ordered to -fall in, and proceeded on our retreat. The rain still continued -to fall, the roads were now knee-deep in mud. -Many men got fatigued and could not follow: the spring -waggons could not hold them all; they dropped behind to -fall into the hands of the French cavalry. By some mismanagement -the commissary stores had been sent on ahead -with the baggage, toward Rodrigo, and we were without -food. The feeling of hunger was very severe: some oxen -that had remained with the division were killed and served -out to us, but our attempts to kindle cooking fires with wet -wood were abortive. Sometimes we just managed to raise -a smoke, and numbers would gather round a fire, which -then would go out, in spite of their efforts.</p> - -<p>“A savage sort of desperation took possession of our -minds: those who lived on most friendly terms with each -other in better times now quarrelled with each other, using -the most frightful imprecations on the slightest offence.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">267</span> -A misanthropic spirit took possession of every breast. The -streams from the hills were swollen into rivers, which we -had to wade, and vast numbers fell out, among them even -officers. It was piteous to see the men, who had long -dragged their limbs after them with a determined spirit, -finally fall down in the mud unable to proceed further. -The despairing looks that they gave us, when they saw us -pass on, would have pierced the heart at any other time; -but our feelings were steeled, and we had no power to -assist, even had we felt the inclination.</p> - -<p>“At last the rain somewhat abated, but the cold was -excessive: at the nightly halt many men threw themselves -down in the mud, praying for death to relieve them from -their misery. And some prayed not in vain, for next -morning, starting in the dark, we stumbled over several -who had died in the night. Setting my foot inadvertently -on one, I stooped down to feel, and I shall never forget the -sickening thrill that went to my heart, as my hand touched -his cold, clammy face. This day we halted earlier than -usual, and the weather being clearer, got fires lighted; but -there was nothing to eat save acorns from a wood in which -we encamped—we greedily devoured them, though they -were nauseous in the extreme. Next day’s sufferings were -of the same nature—only more aggravated, till at last we -neared Rodrigo in the dark, halted, and heard at last the -well-known summons of ‘Turn out for biscuit,’ ring in -our ears. We had got to food at last. Instead of the -usual orderly division each man seized what he could get, -and began to allay the dreadful gnawing pain which had -tormented us for four days of unexampled cold and fatigue.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">268</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVI" class="vspace">CHAPTER XVI<br /> - -<span class="subhead">IMPEDIMENTA: THE BAGGAGE—LADIES AT THE FRONT</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="sidenote">The Baggage Animals</div> - -<p>The train of Wellington’s army was very heavy. In -addition to the long droves of mules and ox-waggons which -carried public stores, there was a very large accumulation -of private baggage. The field equipment of officers—especially -of officers of the higher ranks—strikes the modern -student as very heavy, and was much commented on by -French observers at the time. “To look at the mass of -impedimenta and camp-followers trailing behind the -British,” says Foy, “you would think you were beholding -the army of Darius. Only when you have met them in -the field do you realize that you have to do with the soldiers -of Alexander.” The cause of this accumulation was partly -a survival of the lax customs of the eighteenth century, but -it resulted still more from the character of the country -over which Wellington’s host moved. In the interior of -Spain or Portugal absolutely nothing was to be procured. -The simplest small luxuries, tea, sugar, coffee, were ungettable, -save in the largest towns; to renew clothing was -equally impossible. He who required anything must carry -it with him. It was not like campaigning in France, -Belgium, Germany, or Italy. At the commencement of -his term of command Wellington laid down the rule<a id="FNanchor_270" href="#Footnote_270" class="fnanchor">270</a> that -no private baggage was to be carried upon carts: “those -who have baggage to carry, must be provided with mules -and horses.” This order is repeated again and again during -later years.<a id="FNanchor_271" href="#Footnote_271" class="fnanchor">271</a> A regular scale of the amount of horses and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">269</span> -mules allowed to officers of different rank was shortly -produced. Two subalterns must share one sumpter-beast -between them, a captain was allowed a whole mule or horse, -and so on, in a mounting scale.<a id="FNanchor_272" href="#Footnote_272" class="fnanchor">272</a> But as early as September -1, 1809, it would seem that a more liberal allowance was -made legal. In a “general order” of that day we get an -elaborate table of rations of forage for all ranks, from the -commander-in-chief downwards. While subalterns are -allowed one ration each, the number rises enormously for -the seniors, a captain commanding a company is set down -for five rations, a major for seven, a lieutenant-colonel in -charge of a battalion for ten, the Adjutant-General for -twenty, etc., etc. This was a far too liberal allowance for -the senior ranks, and led to an accumulation of beasts, -both riding horses and pack-mules, far surpassing what was -reasonable. To enable them to equip themselves for field -service, all officers (whether staff or regimental) when -ordered for the first time to join the army, were allowed -to draw 200 days “bât, baggage, and forage money.” This -presumably would go towards the purchase of their animals. -The forage allowed was 14 lbs. of hay or straw of the -country, and 12 lbs. of oats, or 10 lbs. of barley or Indian -corn. When English hay was procurable (as at Lisbon) -only 10 lbs. of it might be issued instead of the 14 lbs. of -native stuff. On this system the captain would provide -himself with a riding horse, generally a small Portuguese -nag, and have a mule for his baggage. The subaltern -must walk if he kept a mule: but it seems that very soon -the juniors also took to riding. At any rate, lieutenants -and other juniors often appear with a riding horse. Nothing -is more common in a diary than to find, on his first arrival -in Portugal the young officer procuring himself not one but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">270</span> -two beasts, generally a nag and a mule. Sometimes he -brought out a horse of his own from England.<a id="FNanchor_273" href="#Footnote_273" class="fnanchor">273</a> More -usually he <span class="locked">bought—</span></p> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“A mule for baggage, and a ‘bit of blood’”<a id="FNanchor_274" href="#Footnote_274" class="fnanchor">274</a><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="in0">in the horse-market at Lisbon, of which one who had been -through the business <span class="locked">writes:—</span></p> - -<p>“The only convenient opportunity to make the purchase -was at a sort of fair held every Tuesday in the lower part -of the town. There horses, mules, and asses were bought -and sold, and (as in all markets) the price chiefly depended -on the demand. The Portuguese horse-dealer has all the -avidity of the English jockey to pick your pocket, but is -not so <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">au fait</i> at the business. At this Fair you buy or sell -your animal, the bargain is struck, the money paid, and -the contract is indissoluble. English guineas had no attraction: -the dollar or the moidore was the medium; but -since the guinea has been introduced in the payment of -the army (1813) the Portuguese begin to appreciate its -value. It was customary for officers who wanted cash to -give their draft on some house in London; but it was -purchasing money very dearly, giving at the rate of six -and sixpence for a dollar that would only bring five shillings, -so losing eighteen pence on every crown.”<a id="FNanchor_275" href="#Footnote_275" class="fnanchor">275</a></p> - -<p>Good and large Spanish mules cost as much, or almost -as much, as the small horses of the country. Fifty to -ninety dollars was an ordinary price. Thirty to forty-five<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">271</span> -pounds was considered cheap for an English riding horse.<a id="FNanchor_276" href="#Footnote_276" class="fnanchor">276</a> -A Portuguese nag might be bought for fifteen or twenty.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Concerning Messes</div> - -<p>“In consequence of the difficulty of transporting -baggage,” writes one of the liveliest commentators on daily -life at the front, “a regiment on active service could not -keep up a regular mess, as in England. Each officer was -obliged to manage for himself: they generally divided -themselves into mess-parties by twos and threes. This -greatly incommoded the subaltern: allowed only the -carriage of half an animal [or at the most of one] it was not -possible to admit, for the purpose of having extra eatables, -any addition to his share of baggage. The mere ration -was all that he got, with a camp-kettle for culinary purposes. -Besides we must recollect the difficulty of getting -extra food, and also the want of money. So the bit of beef -and the ration of biscuit was frequent fare for perhaps -two-thirds of the officers—with the allowance of ration-rum -or wine (generally execrable stuff). The prime luxuries -were a drop of brandy and a segar. With respect to articles -of dress, the contents of a small portmanteau being all that -could be taken about, if a subaltern wore out or lost his -regimental jacket, he had to improvise a substitute, <i>e.g.</i> his -great coat. Waistcoats were as fancy directed, black, blue, -or green, silk or velvet.”</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, though the officer, or at least the junior -officer, thought himself much stinted in baggage, the private -mules of the regiment, and in particular those of the senior -officers, made up quite a drove—at least some thirty or -forty. In addition there were the public mules of the corps, -some thirteen in number—one for each company’s camp -kettles, one for entrenching tools, one for the paymaster’s -books, one for the surgeon’s medical paniers. If we add -to these the private riding horses of the senior officers and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">272</span> -such of the juniors as could afford them, there was quite -a cavalcade—enough to block a road or to encumber a -ford. And unfortunately the mules and horses presupposed -drivers and attendants. Wellington set his face against -the withdrawal from the ranks of soldier-servants to act as -muleteers.<a id="FNanchor_277" href="#Footnote_277" class="fnanchor">277</a> Each officer, of course, had one; but they -were supposed to be available for service, and could only -look to their master’s business in the halts and encampments. -Hence native servants had to be hired—even -the poorest pair of ensigns wanted a Portuguese boy to -look after their single mule. The colonel had probably -three or four followers. Thus to take charge of its baggage, -private and public, each battalion had a following of twenty -or thirty such attendants, a few English, the large majority -Spanish or Portuguese.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Camp Followers</div> - -<p>It cannot be denied that these fellows had a villainous -reputation, and largely deserved it. Though many decent -peasant lads were picked up in the countryside by the -earlier comers, and made trustworthy and loyal servants, -the majority were not satisfactory. The sort of followers -whom the officers of a newly-landed regiment engaged at -short notice upon the quays of Lisbon, when only two -or three days were given them for selection, were mostly -“undesirables.” If there were a few among them who -were merely “broken men,”—ruined peasants seeking bread -at any hand that would give it,—the majority were the -scum of a great harbour city, ruffians of the lowest sort. -The best of the Portuguese were with the army: the net of -the conscription was making wide sweeps, and few young -men of the decent class escaped the line or the militia. -Personal service under an English officer, who was certainly -an incomprehensible foreigner, and might well be a hard and -unreasonable master, was not so attractive as to draw the -pick of the Portuguese working classes. It did, on the -other hand, appeal to needy rascals who wanted the chance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">273</span> -of cheating an employer who knew nothing of the country, -its customs, and its prices. There was splendid opportunity -for embezzlement. Moreover, many looked for more -lucrative, if more dangerous gains. The diaries show that -a very considerable proportion of the hastily-hired muleteers -and servants absconded, after a few days, with their master’s -mule and portmanteau, and were never seen again. Those -who did not, were looking after the plunder of the battlefield, -the camp, and the wayside. It was they who robbed -drunken soldiers, ill-guarded commissary stores, or lonely -villages. They slunk out at night to make privy plunder -in the lines of the regiments in which they were not employed. -On the battlefield they were ruthless strippers of -the wounded—English and Portuguese no less than French—as -well as of the dead. Unless report much mistreats -them, they habitually knocked a wounded Frenchman on -the head, if they were out of sight of the red-coats.<a id="FNanchor_278" href="#Footnote_278" class="fnanchor">278</a> Considering -the atrocities of which the French had been guilty -in Portugal, this might pass for not unnatural retaliation; -but it is certain that the British wounded were also frequently -plundered, and there is more than a suspicion -that they were sometimes murdered. The Spanish camp-followers -passed as being even more blood-thirsty than -the Portuguese. Of course it was not the officers’ private -employés alone who were guilty of these misdemeanours; -the public muleteers of the commissariat staff, and other -hangers-on of the army, had an equally bad reputation. -The most daring theft of the whole war, as has been already -mentioned, was done by two “authorized followers,” who<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">274</span> -burglariously entered the house of the Commissary-General -in 1814, and got off with no less than £2000 in gold. They -were detected, and naturally suffered the extreme punishment -of the law. By their names one would seem to have -been French, the other a Spaniard. There is an awful -story, told in two diaries, of a camp follower who in a -time of starvation sold to British soldiers as pork slices -cut off a French corpse.<a id="FNanchor_279" href="#Footnote_279" class="fnanchor">279</a> He got away before he could -be caught and shot. But enough of these ghouls!</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Soldiers’ Wives</div> - -<p>The followers of a British army were by no means -exclusively foreign. One of the worst impediments to the -free movement of the host came from the unhappy practice -that then prevailed of allowing corps on foreign service -to take with them a proportion of soldiers’ wives—four or -six per company. Forty or sixty of these women, mostly -mounted on donkeys, formed the most unmanageable -portion of every regimental train. They were always -straggling or being left behind, because they could not -keep up with the long marches that the army had often -to take. Wayside tragedies of this sort are to be found -recorded in almost every Peninsular memoir—often of the -most harrowing sort. In especial we may mention the -number of these poor women who dropped in the Corunna -retreat, and died in the snow, or fell into the hands of the -French. The interesting little book of a married sergeant -of the 42nd, who took his wife about with him during the -last three years of the war, is full of curious little -shifts and anxieties that they went through.<a id="FNanchor_280" href="#Footnote_280" class="fnanchor">280</a> The best -description of this curious stratum of the Peninsular -Army that I know is in the autobiography of Bell of -the 34th.<a id="FNanchor_281" href="#Footnote_281" class="fnanchor">281</a></p> - -<p>“The multitude of soldiers’ wives stuck to the army like -bricks: averse to all military discipline, they impeded our -progress at times very much, particularly in retreats. They<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">275</span> -became the subject of a General Order, for their own special -guidance. They were under no control, and were always -first mounted up and away, blocking up narrow passes -and checking the advance of the army with their donkeys, -after repeated orders to follow in rear of their respective -corps, or their donkeys would be shot. On the retreat -from Burgos I remember Mrs. Biddy Flyn remarking, ‘I -would like to see the man that wud shoot <em>my</em> donkey: -faith, I’ll be too early away for any of ’em to catch me. -Will you come wid me, girls?’ ‘Aye, indeed, every one -of us.’ And away they started at early dawn, cracking -their jokes about divisional orders, Wellington, commanding -officers, and their next bivouac. Alas! the Provost Marshal -was in advance—a man in authority, and a terror to evil -doers: he was waiting a mile or two on, in a narrow turn -of the road, for the ladies, with a party all loaded. He gave -orders to shoot the first two donkeys <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">pour exemple</i>. There -was a wild, fierce and furious yell struck up, with more -weeping and lamentation than one usually hears at an -Irish funeral, with sundry prayers for the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">vagabone</i> that had -murdered the lives of the poor darling innocent <em>crathers</em>. -‘Bad luck to the ugly face of the Provost, the spy of the -camp, may he niver see home till the vultures have picked -his eyes out, the born varmint,’ and so on. The victims -picked up what they could carry, and marched along with -the regiment, crying and lamenting their bitter fate. It -was wonderful what they endured—but in spite of this -warning they were foremost on the line of march next -morning again. As Mrs. Skiddy, their leader, said, ‘We -must risk something to be in before the men, to have the -fire and a <em>dhrop</em> of tay ready for them after their load and -their labour: and sure if we went in the <em>rare</em> the French, -bad luck to them, would pick me up, me and my -donkey, and then Dan Skiddy would be lost entirely -without me.’”</p> - -<p>The soldiers’ wives were indeed an extraordinary community—as -hard as nails, expert plunderers, furious<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">276</span> -partisans of the supreme excellence of their own battalion, -much given to fighting. Many of them were widows twice -and even thrice over—for when a married man was shot, -and his wife was a capable and desirable person, she would -receive half a dozen proposals before her husband was -forty-eight hours in his grave. And since the alternative -was a hazardous voyage back to relatives in England or -Ireland, who had probably broken off with the “girl who ran -away with a soldier,” most of the widows concluded to stop -with the battalion, with a new spouse and a new name. -As the war dragged on many of the men picked up Portuguese -and Spanish helpmates, who joined the regimental -drove, and made it strangely polyglot. At the end of the -struggle in 1814 there was a most harrowing scene at -Bordeaux, when the general order was issued that all these -foreigners who could not prove that they had been legitimately -married to soldiers, with the colonel’s leave, were -to be refused transport to the British Isles.<a id="FNanchor_282" href="#Footnote_282" class="fnanchor">282</a> There were -hundreds of them, and only in a few cases could the men -find money to get them taken home in private merchantmen. -The bulk marched back to the Peninsula in charge of a -brigade of homeward bound Portuguese—a most melancholy -and distressful assembly.<a id="FNanchor_283" href="#Footnote_283" class="fnanchor">283</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Ladies at the Front</div> - -<p>It is extraordinary to find that a sprinkling of the officers -of the Peninsular Army were unwise enough to take their -wives with them to the front—thereby securing a life of -wearing anxiety for both, and of dire hardship for the poor -ladies. One of the best known cases was that of Hill’s -senior aide-de-camp, Captain Currie, whose wife I have -found mentioned half a dozen times as making tea for the -second division staff, and holding a little reception whenever -the division was settled down for a few days. Another<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">277</span> -was Mrs. Dalbiac, wife of the colonel of the 4th Dragoons, -whose adventures on the field of Salamanca are mentioned -by Napier.<a id="FNanchor_284" href="#Footnote_284" class="fnanchor">284</a> But the best chronicle of the ups and downs -of a young married couple may be found in the breezy -autobiography of Sir Harry Smith, then a subaltern in the -95th Rifles. His tale is well known—he rescued a young -Spanish lady among the horrors of the sack of Badajoz, -married her two days later, and had her with him for the -remaining three years of the war. The story of their -Odyssey, as related by him, is one of the most touching -narratives of loyal love, and hardship cheerfully borne, -that any man can read. They lived together for forty -years in storm and sunshine, and she survived to christen -the town of Ladysmith by her name, while her husband -was commanding the forces in South Africa. He gave -his name to the sister town of Harrismith, less well remembered -now than the long-besieged place with which the -memory of Juana Smith is linked.</p> - -<p>There is a sketch in Paris by the well-known artist, -Colonel Lejeune, who, when a prisoner at Elvas, made a -drawing of an English military family which passed him. -As he describes it in his diary, “The captain rode first on -a very fine horse, warding off the sun with a parasol: then -came his wife very prettily dressed, with a small straw hat, -riding on a mule and carrying not only a parasol, but a little -black and tan dog on her knee, while she led by a cord a -she-goat, to supply her with milk. Beside madame walked -her Irish nurse, carrying in a green silk wrapper a baby, -the hope of the family. A grenadier, the captain’s servant, -came behind and occasionally poked up the long-eared -steed of his mistress with a staff. Last in the procession -came a donkey loaded with much miscellaneous baggage, -which included a tea-kettle and a cage of canaries; it was -guarded by an English servant in livery, mounted on a -sturdy cob and carrying a long posting-whip, with which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">278</span> -he occasionally made the donkey mend its pace.”<a id="FNanchor_285" href="#Footnote_285" class="fnanchor">285</a> If this -picture is not exaggerated, it certainly helps us to understand -the strong objection which Wellington had for ladies -at the front, and all forms of impedimenta.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">279</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVII" class="vspace">CHAPTER XVII<br /> - -<span class="subhead">A NOTE ON SIEGES</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Every one knows that the record of the Peninsular Army -in the matter of sieges is not the most brilliant page in its -annals. It is not to the orgies that followed the storm of -Badajoz or San Sebastian that allusion is here made, but -to the operations that preceded them, and to the unhappy -incidents that accompanied the luckless siege of Burgos. -Courage enough and to spare was lavished on those bloody -leaguers; perseverance was shown in no small measure; -and to a certain extent professional skill was not lacking. -But the tale compares miserably with the great story of the -triumphs of Wellington’s army in the open field. Reckless -bravery had to supply the place of the machinery and -organization that was lacking, and too much blood was -spilt, and sometimes spilt to no effect.</p> - -<p>The responsibility for these facts is hard to distribute. -As is generally the case when failures are made, it is clear -that a system was to blame rather than any individual, or -body of individuals. Great Britain had been at war with -France for some sixteen years; but in all her countless -expeditions she had never, since 1794, been compelled to -undertake regular sieges on a large scale. The battering -of old-fashioned native forts in India, the blockades of -Malta or Alexandria, the bombardments of Flushing or -Copenhagen, need hardly be mentioned. They were not -operations such as those which Wellington had to carry -out in 1811 or 1812. For a long time the Peninsular War -had been considered as a purely defensive affair; it was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">280</span> -concerned with the protection of Portugal, almost (we -might say) of Lisbon, from the French invader. The -home Government kept sending reinforcements to Wellington, -but they were under the impression that an over-powerful -combination of the enemy’s forces might some day -force him to re-embark. He himself regarded such a -contingency as by no means impossible.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington’s Battering Train</div> - -<p>But in the spring of the year 1811 it became clear that a -defensive war may have offensive episodes. After Masséna’s -retreat from before the Lines of Torres Vedras, Wellington -had to protect the frontiers of Portugal; and to guard -them efficiently he needed possession of Almeida, Ciudad -Rodrigo, and Badajoz, which had all been in the hands of -the allies in the summer of 1810, but were now French -fortresses. To subdue these three places he required a -large battering-train, properly equipped for movement, -and such a thing was not at his disposition. There were a -number of heavy guns mounted on the Lines of Torres -Vedras, and on the ramparts of Elvas, Abrantes, and Peniche. -There were also many companies of Portuguese gunners -attached to those guns, and a lesser number of British companies -which had been immobilized in the Lisbon lines. -But heavy guns and gunners combined do not complete a -battering train. An immense amount of transport was -required, and in the spring of 1811 it was not at Wellington’s -disposition. Well-nigh every available ox-cart and -mule in Portugal was already employed in carrying the -provisions and baggage of the field army. And water -transport, which would have been very valuable, could -only be used for a few miles of the lower courses of the -Tagus and Douro. To begin a regular siege of Almeida in -April, 1811, was absolutely impossible, not because there -were not guns or gunners in Portugal, but because there -were no means of moving them at the time. Wellington -did not even attempt it, contenting himself with a mere -blockade. On the other flank an endeavour was made -to besiege Badajoz, but this was only possible because<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">281</span> -within a few miles of that city lay the Portuguese fortress -of Elvas, from whose walls was borrowed the hastily -improvised and imperfect battering-train with which the -Spanish stronghold was attacked.</p> - -<p>The first two sieges of Badajoz in 1811 were lamentable -failures, precisely because this haphazard battering-train -was wholly inadequate for the end to which it was applied. -Alexander Dickson, the zealous and capable officer placed -in charge of the artillery, was set an impossible task. He -had about 400 Portuguese and 120 English gunners, all -equally untrained in siege duty, to work a strange collection -of antiquated and unserviceable cannon. The pieces -borrowed from Elvas were of irregular calibre and ancient -pattern. Almost incredible as it may appear, some of these -long brass 24-pounders were nearly two hundred years -old—observers noted on them the arms and cyphers not -only of John IV. the first king of the Braganza dynasty, -but of Philip III. and Philip IV. of Spain, the contemporaries -of our James I. and Charles I.<a id="FNanchor_286" href="#Footnote_286" class="fnanchor">286</a> Even the better guns were -of obsolete eighteenth-century types. No two had the -same bore, nor were the shot supplied for them uniform in -size; it was necessary to cull and select a special heap of -balls for each particular gun. The whole formed, indeed, -a sort of artillery museum rather than an effective battering-train. -The guns shot wildly and weakly, and their gunners -were inexperienced. No wonder that their effect was poor.</p> - -<p>But this was not all: indeed, the inefficiency of the -guns was perhaps the secondary rather than the primary -cause of the failure of the two early sieges of Badajoz. -More important still was it that Wellington was as weak -in the engineer as in the artillery arm. The number of -trained officers of engineers with the Peninsular Army was -very small—not much over thirty; but of rank and file -to serve under them there were practically none. Of the -corps called the “Royal Military Artificers,” the ancestors -of the “Royal Sappers and Miners,” there were actually<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">282</span> -only thirty-four attached to the army in 1810, and it was -far on in 1811 before their numbers reached a hundred. -Many of them were with Wellington’s field army on the -distant frontier of Beira, and before Badajoz, in May, there -were little more than a score. For the trench-work of the -siege untrained volunteers had to be borrowed from the -line battalions, and to be instructed by the engineer officers -actually under the fire of the French guns. Their teachers -were almost all as ignorant of practical siege operations as -themselves; the British Army, as has already been remarked, -had done little work of the sort for many years.</p> - -<p>The officers, it is true, were zealous and often clever; -the men were recklessly brave, if unpractised in the simplest -elements of siegecraft. But good-will could not atone for -want of experience, and it seems clear that in these early -sieges the plans were often unwise, and the execution unskilful. -The points of attack selected at Badajoz were the -strongest and least accessible points of the fortress, not -those against which the French had operated in their -earlier siege in February with success. This choice had -been made because the British were working “against -time”; there were French armies collecting for the relief -of Badajoz, and if the leaguer took many weeks, it was -certain that an overwhelming force would be brought -against the besiegers and compel them to depart. Hence -the engineer officers, in both the unsuccessful sieges, tried -to break in at points where victory would be decisive; -they thought it would be useless to begin by capturing -outworks, or by making a lodgment in the lower parts of -the city, which would leave its stronger points intact and -capable of further defence. They battered the high-lying -fort of San Cristobal, and the citadel on its precipitous -height, arguing that if they could capture either of them -the whole fortress was at their mercy. Both the points -assailed turned out to be too strong: the stony hill of -San Cristobal proved impossible for trench work; desperate -attempts to storm the fort that crowned it, by columns<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">283</span> -advancing across the open, were beaten off with heavy loss. -The castle walls, after long battering, refused to crumble -into practicable breaches. Before anything decisive had -been accomplished, the French armies of succour came up. -Beresford beat the first at Albuera in May and renewed the -siege; the second (Soult and Marmont combined) was so -strong that Wellington dared not face it, and withdrew -from his abandoned trenches to within the Portuguese -frontier in July.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Colonel Dickson’s Work</div> - -<p>A great change for the better in Wellington’s position -as regards sieges had been made by the autumn of 1811. -He had at last received a number of good modern British -iron guns, much superior to the old Portuguese brass 24-pounders. -And with infinite trouble and delay he had -at last created a battering-train that could move. This -was the work of Alexander Dickson, already mentioned, -who was occupied from July to November in accumulating -at the obscure town of Villa da Ponte, behind Almeida, -masses of waggon-transport and trains of mules and oxen, -for the moving of the heavy cannon and the immense store -of ammunition belonging to them. The guns were brought -up the Douro to Lamego, where the river ceased to be -navigable, and then dragged over the hills by oxen. Several -companies of Portuguese and British gunners were attached -to the park, and instructed, so far as was possible, in -siege work. At the same time the military artificers—still -far too few in numbers—were instructing volunteers -from the line in the making of a great store of gabions, platforms, -fascines, and other necessaries.</p> - -<p>This long preparation, which was almost unsuspected -by the French, because it was unostentatious and made at -a great distance from the front, enabled Wellington to -execute the siege of Ciudad Rodrigo in January, 1812, -with unexampled rapidity and success. The fortress was -not one of the first class, the garrison was rather weak, the -battering-train was now ample for the task required of -it, and, to the surprise and dismay of Marmont, Rodrigo<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">284</span> -fell after a siege of only twelve days at midwinter (January -7–19) long before he could collect his scattered divisions -for its relief.</p> - -<p>The third attack on Badajoz, in March-April, 1812, -turned out a much less satisfactory business, though it -ended in a triumphant success. Like the two sieges of -the preceding year, it was conducted “against time”; -Wellington being fully aware that if it went on too long the -relieving armies would be upon him. The means employed -were more adequate than those of 1811, though only a -part of the battering-train that had subdued Ciudad -Rodrigo could be brought across the hills from the distant -frontier of Beira. The remainder was composed of ship-guns -borrowed from Lisbon. But though the artillery -was not inadequate, and the walls were thoroughly well -breached, both the trench-work and the storm cost over-many -lives. Indeed, the main assault on the breaches -failed, and the town fell because two subsidiary attacks -by escalade, one carried out by Picton, the other by General -Walker with a brigade of the 5th Division, were both -triumphantly successful. Wellington laid the blame of -the fearful loss of life upon the fact that his engineers had -no trained sappers to help them, and were unskilled in -siegecraft. They had attacked a point of the defences far -more promising than those battered in 1811, and had opened -up immense gaps in the defences, but nevertheless he was -not satisfied with their direction. In a private letter to -Lord Liverpool, which is not printed in either of the two -series of his dispatches, he <span class="locked">wrote:—</span></p> - -<div id="ip_284" class="figcenter b4" style="max-width: 37.5em;"><p><i>PLATE VII.</i></p> -<img src="images/i_284.jpg" width="600" height="465" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="floatl"><span class="smcap">Private of Heavy Dragoons.</span><br />1809.</p> - -<p class="floatr"><span class="smcap">Officer of Field Artillery.</span><br />1809.</p></div></div> - -<p>“The capture of Badajoz affords as strong an instance -of the gallantry of our troops as has ever been displayed. -But I anxiously hope that I shall never again be the instrument -of putting them to such a test as that to which they -were put last night. I assure your lordship that it is quite -impossible to carry fortified places by ‘<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">vive force</i>’ without -incurring great loss, and being exposed to the chance of -failure, unless the army should be provided with a sufficient -trained corps of sappers and miners.... The consequence<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">285</span> -of being so unprovided with the people necessary to approach -a regularly fortified place are, first, that our engineers, -though well-educated and brave, have never turned their -minds to the mode of conducting a regular siege, as it is -useless to think of that which it is impossible, in our service, -to perform. They think they have done their duty when -they have constructed a battery with a secure communication -to it, which can breach the place. Secondly, these -breaches have to be carried by <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">vive force</i>, at an infinite -sacrifice of officers and soldiers.... These great losses -could be avoided, and, in my opinion, time gained in every -siege, if we had properly trained people to carry it on. -I declare that I have never seen breaches more practicable -in themselves than the three in the walls of Badajoz, and -the fortress must have surrendered with these breaches -open, if I had been able to ‘approach’ the place. But -when I had made the third breach on the evening of the 6th, -I could do no more. I was then obliged either to storm or -to give the business up, and when I ordered the assault, I -was certain that I should lose our best officers and men. -It is a cruel situation for any person to be placed in, and I -earnestly recommend to your lordship to have a corps of -sappers and miners formed without loss of time.”<a id="FNanchor_287" href="#Footnote_287" class="fnanchor">287</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington and His Engineers</div> - -<p>The slaughter of Badajoz, then, in Wellington’s estimation, -was due partly to the fact that the British Army, -unlike all other armies, lacked regular companies of sappers -and miners, and partly to the inexperience of the engineer -officers in carrying out the last stages of a siege—the -advance towards the glacis and the ditch by scientific -trench-work. They did not, he says, “turn their mind” -towards such operations, because they had never been -furnished with skilled workmen to carry them out. That -sappers and miners did not exist as yet was not the fault -of Wellington, nor of the ministers, but of the professional<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">286</span> -advisers of the administration, who should long ago have -pointed out that such a corps was wanted. That the -Liverpool ministry was not slow to take advice was shown -by the fact that they at once converted the already existing -“Military Artificers” into sappers. On April 23, less than -three weeks after Badajoz fell, a warrant was issued for -instructing the corps in military field works, and shortly -after six companies were ordered to be sent to the Peninsula -the moment that they should have received such training. -On August 4 the name of the whole corps was changed -from Royal Military Artificers to Royal Sappers and Miners.<a id="FNanchor_288" href="#Footnote_288" class="fnanchor">288</a> -It was not, of course, till very late in the year that the first -of the new sapper companies joined Wellington, but by -the next spring he had 300 trained men with him.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile they had of course arrived too late for the -siege of Burgos, the most unhappy of all Wellington’s -leaguers, where the whole trench-work was conducted by -volunteers from the line directed by precisely eight of the -old artificers—of whom one was killed and the remaining -seven wounded. The story of the Burgos operations reads -like an exaggerated repetition of the first siege of Badajoz. -The battering-train that took Badajoz had been left behind, -and to attack Burgos (whose strength was undervalued) -Wellington had with him no proper means. Only eight guns -were brought up—because the transport with the army -could only provide a few spare teams, and the whole of -Castile had been swept clear of draught-beasts. This -ridiculously weak train proved wholly insufficient for the -work set it. “Had there been a siege establishment with -the army even moderately efficient, so as to have admitted -of the performance of the rudiments of the art, the attack -(even with the inadequate artillery) might have been carried -through,” writes the historian of the Peninsular sieges.<a id="FNanchor_289" href="#Footnote_289" class="fnanchor">289</a> -But there were only five engineer officers present, just -eight artificers, no tools save regimental picks and shovels<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">287</span> -borrowed from line regiments, no <em>material</em> save wood -requisitioned from the town of Burgos, and so little transport -that the fire had sometimes to cease, to allow fresh ammunition -to be brought up from the distant Madrid. Wellington -ordered repeated assaults on the inadequately battered -walls; they all failed, and he finally retired after thirty-two -days of open trenches, and with the loss of nearly 2000 men, -from before a “bicocque,” as the French called it, which -could not have withstood a proper battering-train for a -third of that time.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Failure at Burgos</div> - -<p>The fact is that Wellington had undervalued the strength -of Burgos; he thought it would fall easily. If he had -known that it would hold out for more than a month, he -could have procured more guns from the captured French -arsenal at Madrid, and might have requisitioned all the -beasts of the army to draw them. But by the time that -it began to be seen that Burgos was not about to yield to -a mere demonstration, it was too late to get up the necessary -means of reducing it. Finally, the French armies mustered -for its relief, and the British had to retire. It may be -added that the besieging troops, thoroughly disgusted with -the inadequate means used to prepare the way for them, -did not act with the same energy that had been shown at -Rodrigo or Badajoz. Several of the assaults were not -pushed well home, and the trench-work was slack. Wellington -wrote, in his General Orders for October 3, a stiff -rebuke, to the effect that “the officers and soldiers of this -army should know that to work during a siege is as much a -part of their duty as to engage the enemy in the field; -and they may depend upon it that unless they perform -the work allotted to them with due diligence, they cannot -acquire the honour which their comrades have won in -former sieges.... The Commander-in-Chief hopes he -shall have no reason to complain in future.”<a id="FNanchor_290" href="#Footnote_290" class="fnanchor">290</a></p> - -<p>The leaguer of San Sebastian, the last of Wellington’s -sieges, bore a great likeness to the last siege<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">288</span> -of Badajoz. It was conducted in a time of considerable -anxiety, while the army of Soult was making vigorous and -repeated efforts to frustrate it. The place was strong by -nature—a towering castle with the town at its foot joined -to the mainland only by a narrow sandy spit; the defences -of this isthmus were short, and reached from sea to sea: -they were fully commanded by the castle behind. The -first great assault (July 25, 1813) was made while the -trenches were still far from the walls, and while the fire of -the besieged had not been silenced. It failed with heavy -loss. The second assault (August 31) was successful, but -very bloody—2000 men were killed or wounded. The most -authoritative commentator writes: “The operations against -San Sebastian afford a most impressive lesson on the -advantages of proceeding step by step, and with due attention -to science and rule. The attempt there made to -overcome or trample on such restrictions caused a certain -operation of twenty days to extend to sixty. It bears -strong testimony to the truth of the maxim laid down by -Marshal Vauban: ‘La précipitation dans les sièges ne -hâte point la prise des places, la retarde souvent, et ensanglante -toujours la scène.’”<a id="FNanchor_291" href="#Footnote_291" class="fnanchor">291</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Trench Work</div> - -<p>There can be no doubt that siege-work was loathed by -the rank and file, not so much for its danger—there was never -any lack of volunteers for a forlorn hope—but for its discomfort. -There was a sort of underlying feeling that entrenching -was not soldier’s but navvy’s work; the long -hiding under cover in cramped positions, which was absolutely -necessary, was looked upon as a sort of skulking. -With an unwise disregard for their personal safety, which -had a touch of bravado and more than a touch of sulkiness -in it, the men exposed themselves far more than was -necessary. I fancy that on some occasions, notably at -the early sieges of Badajoz and at Burgos, there was a general -feeling that matters were not being scientifically or adequately -conducted, and that too much was being asked of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">289</span> -the rank and file, when they were made to attempt a hard -task without the proper means. It must have been clear to -them that there were too few engineer officers, not enough -artillery, and no proper provision of tools. Hence came -a spirit of anger and discontent.</p> - -<p>At Ciudad Rodrigo, and at the third and last leaguer -of Badajoz, the weather was so abominable that the siege-work -was long looked back on as a perfect nightmare. -At Rodrigo, in the high upland of Leon, the month of January -was a combination of frost and rain; the water accumulated -in the trenches and there often froze, so that the men -were standing ankle-deep in a mixture of ice and mud, -and since they could not move about, because of the -enemy’s incessant fire, suffered horribly from cold. At -Badajoz there was no frost: but incessant chilling rain was -almost as bad during the early weeks of the siege; the -trenches were often two feet deep in water, and the work -of the spade was almost useless, since the liquid mud that -was shovelled up ran away in streams out of the gabions -into which it was cast, and refused to pile up into parapets -for the trenches, spreading out instead into mere broad -accumulations of slime, which gave no cover, and had no -resisting power against the round shot of the garrison. -I imagine that the desperate and dirty toil in those operations, -protracted over many days of abominable discomfort -as well as danger, accounts in great measure for the ferocious -spirit shown by the victors both at Rodrigo and Badajoz. -The men were in a blind rage at the misery which they had -been enduring, and it found vent, after the storm was -over, in misconduct far surpassing that which would have -followed a pitched battle where the losses had been equally -great. One observer writes: “The spirit of the soldiers -rose to a frightful height—I say frightful because it was -not of that sort which denoted exultation at the prospect -of achieving an exploit which was about to hold them up -to the admiration of the world; there was a certain <em>something</em> -in their bearing which told plainly that they had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">290</span> -suffered fatigues of which they had not complained, and -seen their comrades and officers slain around them without -repining, but that they had smarted under the one and -felt acutely for the other. They smothered both, so long -as body and mind were employed, but now, before the -storm, they had a momentary licence to think, and every -fine feeling vanished—plunder and revenge took their -place.... A quiet but desperate calm replaced their -usual buoyant spirits, and nothing was observable in their -manner but a tiger-like expression of anxiety to seize upon -their prey.”<a id="FNanchor_292" href="#Footnote_292" class="fnanchor">292</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Waiting for the Storm</div> - -<p>Preparation for the storm affected different men in -different ways: some tried to make up old quarrels and -exchanged words of forgiveness; a good many wrote -letters home, which were to be delivered only in the case -of their falling. “Each arranged himself for the combat in -such manner as his fancy would admit of: some by lowering -their cartridge-boxes, others by turning them to the front -for more convenient use; others unclasped their stocks -or opened their shirt collars; others oiled their bayonets. -Those who had them took leave of their wives and children—an -affecting sight, but not so much so as might have -been expected, because the women, from long habit, were -accustomed to such scenes of danger.”<a id="FNanchor_293" href="#Footnote_293" class="fnanchor">293</a></p> - -<p>One intelligent sergeant speaks of the moment of waiting -for the order to storm as full of a stress that nothing else -could produce: “We felt a dead weight hanging on our -minds; had we been brought hurriedly into action, it would -have been quite different, but it is inconsistent with the -nature of man not to feel as I have described. The long -warning, the dark and silent night, the known strength -of the fortress, the imminent danger of the attack, all -conspired to produce this feeling. It was not the result of -want of courage, as was shown by the calm intrepidity of -the advance when we came in range of the French<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">291</span> -cannon.”<a id="FNanchor_294" href="#Footnote_294" class="fnanchor">294</a> That the revulsion from the long waiting took -the shape of frenzied violence, when the men were at last -let loose, was not unnatural. A certain amount of the horrors -which took place at Badajoz and San Sebastian may be -ascribed to mere frenzy, if the rest was due to more -deliberate wickedness on the part of the baser spirits of the -army.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">292</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVIII" class="vspace">CHAPTER XVIII<br /> - -<span class="subhead">UNIFORMS AND WEAPONS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Without going into the niceties of regimental detail, which -were fully developed by 1809, it is necessary to give a certain -attention to the dress of the army—we might almost add, -to its occasional want of dress.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Concerning Head-Gear</div> - -<p>The Peninsular Army was fortunate in having started -just late enough to be rid of the worst of the unpractical -clothing—the legacy of the eighteenth century—which had -afflicted the troops of the earlier years of the war. The odd -hat, shaped something like a civilian beaver, with a shaving-brush -at the side, which had been worn in Holland and -Egypt, had just been superseded for the rank and file by -a light felt shako, with brass plate in front,<a id="FNanchor_295" href="#Footnote_295" class="fnanchor">295</a> and a woollen -tuft with the regimental colours (worn sometimes in front, -sometimes at the side), and ornamented with white loops -and tassels.<a id="FNanchor_296" href="#Footnote_296" class="fnanchor">296</a> This was a light head-dress, compared with -what had gone before, and no less with the heavy, bell-topped -leather shakos that were to come after. Wellington -protested against an early attempt to introduce these, -saying that he always knew his own troops at a distance, -even when great-coated, by the fact that their shakos were -narrower at the crown than the base, while the French -headgear was always bell-topped, swelling out from the -bottom to the crown, and the distinction was useful. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">293</span> -felt shako had a peak to protect the eyes from the sun, and -a chin-strap. It was a serviceable head-dress, whose only -fault was that, after long wear, and exposure to much rain, -the felt became soft and might crease or bulge, and then -dry into unsightly and lop-sided shapes.<a id="FNanchor_297" href="#Footnote_297" class="fnanchor">297</a></p> - -<p>Down to 1811, officers of the line, except in rifle and -light infantry corps, were wearing cocked hats, as had been -the custom since the eighteenth century. The new clothing -which came out in 1812 had shakos (of a more ornamental -sort) for officers as well as men. The very sensible reason for -the change was that obvious difference in dress between -commissioned and non-commissioned ranks enabled the -enemy’s marksmen to single out the officers, and to give -them more than their fair share of bullets. The discarded -cocked hat had been a stupid survival—a “burlesque of a -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">chapeau</i> usually topped by some extraordinary-looking -feather,” says one wearer of it, while others wore it without -any feather at all. The “cut-down” hat, exactly a span in -height, was all the rage in the Lines of Torres Vedras during -the winter of 1810–11.<a id="FNanchor_298" href="#Footnote_298" class="fnanchor">298</a> The felt shako was an enormous -improvement in every way. After 1811, only generals and -staff officers, engineers, doctors, commissaries, and drum-majors -retained the cocked hat. The last case that I -remember of its being used in the line was that of Lieutenant -Maguire, of the 4th, who, leading the “forlorn hope” at the -storm of San Sebastian (Aug., 1813) put on a cocked hat -with a white feather “to make himself conspicuous and -recognizable.” Clearly this head-dress was by that date -wholly abnormal.<a id="FNanchor_299" href="#Footnote_299" class="fnanchor">299</a></p> - -<p>Another evil which the Peninsular Army escaped also -belonged to the head. Pigtails and hair-powder went out -in 1808—an immense boon. As one who had endured them<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">294</span> -says, “The hair required to be soaped, floured, and frizzed, -in order to be tortured into an uncouth shape, which gave -the man acute pain, and robbed him of the power of turning -his head easily, unless he brought his body round with it.” -The grease and flour matted the hair, and inclined towards -all sorts of scalp diseases. Wellington, who had discarded -hair-powder and dressing long before most officers,<a id="FNanchor_300" href="#Footnote_300" class="fnanchor">300</a> must -have been rejoiced when it became legally permissible to -do without it in all ranks. It was not every one who agreed -with him—a few old-fashioned men still wore pigtails and -powder for some time in the Peninsula; but they soon -died out.</p> - -<p>In the same year, 1808, that these monstrosities vanished -another affliction was relieved. Trousers of a blue-grey -colour were substituted for breeches and gaiters, as service -dress, just before the first brigades sailed, in 1808. The -many-buttoned gaiters to the knee had been an intolerable -nuisance; there was every temptation not to strip them -off at all, when it took twelve minutes to button them up -efficiently, more if they were wet through. Hence troops -liable to be alarmed at any moment were tempted not to -take them off at all for many days, which led to uncleanliness -and diseases in the legs. Trousers were a great improvement—they -were less tight, and could be easily slipped -into and out of. Under the trousers short boots (often -called shoes) were worn.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Regimental Coat</div> - -<p>The coat for all ranks in the infantry was cut short in -front, and had fairly small tails; it still preserved, more or -less, the late eighteenth century cut in this respect, but -differed from the earlier type in having the stiff upstanding -collar supported by a leather stock, an evil device which -constricted the neck and tended to apoplexy. On hard -service, such as storming parties, the men unbuttoned their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">295</span> -collars and threw their stocks aside.<a id="FNanchor_301" href="#Footnote_301" class="fnanchor">301</a> The most characteristic -point that strikes the eye in pictures of the rank and -file of the Peninsular period is the series of white stripes -across the front of the coat, caused by the ornamental -prolongation of the button guards. Bayonet and cartouche -box were supported by the broad white leather cross-belts, -ornamented with a brass plate with the regimental badge. -The very heavy knapsack, normally of oilskin or glazed -canvas, was supported by a separate attachment of straps -passing under the arm-pits. The whole kit weighed some -sixty pounds, when the canteen and haversack are taken -into consideration. Officers had only a single leather belt -coming from the right shoulder to the left hip, to sustain the -sword, and wore their red silk sashes girt tight, in several -turns around their waists.</p> - -<p>One of Wellington’s most sensible traits was an intense -dislike of worrying officers or men about details of uniform -on active service. “Provided we brought our men into the -field well appointed,” says Grattan of the 88th, “with their -sixty rounds of ammunition each, he never looked to see -whether trousers were black, blue, or grey: and as to -ourselves, we might be rigged out in any colour of the rainbow -if we fancied it.” The consequence was that scarcely -any two officers were dressed alike! Some wore grey -braided coats, others brown: some again liked blue; many -(from choice, or perhaps necessity) stuck to the “old red -rag.” Some wore long-skirted frock-coats, as better -protection to the loins than the orthodox regimental cut. -There are some curious records of the odd clothing in which -officers finished a campaign. One records that he did the -Burgos retreat in a garment improvised from the cassock -of a priest, slit up and cut short and furnished with buttons. -Another, a captain in the 29th, landing in Great Britain in -a braided pelisse and a fancy waistcoat with silver buttons -of Spanish filigree work, was taken for some sort of French<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">296</span> -prisoner by a worthy general, who congratulated him on -being allowed such freedom in the place of his captivity.<a id="FNanchor_302" href="#Footnote_302" class="fnanchor">302</a> -As to the men, they wore anything that could be got: a -quantity of French trousers found at the capture of Madrid, -in the Retiro fort, were issued to some corps. A more rough -expedient was that of a colonel with a very ragged regiment -in the winter of 1813–14, who allowed blankets to be cut -up by the regimental tailors, to make up into trousers for -such of the men as were absolutely disreputable in appearance. -The battalion made some sensation when it marched -into Mont-de-Marsan a few days later.<a id="FNanchor_303" href="#Footnote_303" class="fnanchor">303</a></p> - -<p>All this did not vex Wellington’s soul in the least—from -Picton’s tall beaver hat to the blanket-trousers, he saw and -disregarded every detail. He himself was the most simply -dressed man in the army, with his small cocked hat unornamented -save by the English and Portuguese cockades, his -blue, tight-buttoned frock-coat, and the short cloak with -cape which has been immortalized by a score of statues and -pictures.</p> - -<p>I ought, perhaps, to mention that the winter-clothing -for the infantry was a grey pepper-and-salt coloured great -coat, of very thick cloth, with a cape reaching down to -nearly the elbow, so as to give a double thickness of protection -to the shoulders. There was also an oilskin cover -to the felt shako, which could not always be easily adjusted -to the latter, when it had got distorted in shape from much -wear. Plate No. 8 gives an illustration of this costume.</p> - -<div id="ip_296" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 29.625em;"><p><i>PLATE VIII.</i></p> -<img src="images/i_296.jpg" width="474" height="600" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sergeant and Private of Infantry in Winter Marching Order.</span></p> - -<p>1813.</p></div></div> - -<p>When the Peninsular Army first started on its campaigns, -the heavy dragoons were the most archaic-looking corps in -it, for they still wore the broad and heavy cocked hats, -which had prevailed in all armies during the middle years -of George III., and jack boots up to the knee. This headgear, -which after a single campaign in the tropical rains of -the Peninsula always became sodden and shapeless, and -hung down limply towards the shoulders, was fortunately<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">297</span> -abolished by a royal warrant of August, 1812, and during -the following winter many of the heavy dragoon regiments -received brass helmets of a classical shape, with a crest and -plume, which, though rather heavy, were an immense -improvement on their former shapeless hats. At the same -time they were given instead of jack-boots (which had made -skirmishing on foot almost impossible) grey cloth overalls, -with a broad red stripe, and short boots. This was the -dress of the heavies in 1813–14 and during the Waterloo -campaign.</p> - -<p>The light dragoons had gone to the Peninsula in 1808 -with the black japanned helmet with a bearskin crest -along its crown, which had been in use since the time -of the American War. With it they wore blue coats -with white froggings, and buckskin breeches with Hessian -boots. The general effect was handsome, and in use the -dress was not unpractical. General Foy mentions it with -approval in his history. The French outposts were much -puzzled when, at the commencement of the Vittoria campaign, -the English vedettes and outposts appeared in a new -uniform, which was introduced for light cavalry at the same -time as the changes made for heavy cavalry just mentioned -above. It was at first suspected that new regiments had -been joining from England. The 1813 uniform substituted, -for the black helmet with fur, a shako with a small upright -plume, slightly bell-topped in shape, and with ornamental -cord and tassels. It looks as if it had been suggested by the -head-dress of the French <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">chasseurs à cheval</i>, and was much -too like it to please Wellington. At the same time the blue -jacket barred with white lace was changed for a blue coat, -with a very broad plastron of the colour of the regimental -facings in front, extending from collar to waist, and the -buckskin breeches were replaced by tight-fitting breeches -of webbing. This was the Waterloo uniform of all light -dragoon regiments.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Cavalry Uniforms</div> - -<p>The large majority of the British cavalry regiments in -the Peninsula were light dragoons: for the first three years of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">298</span> -Wellington’s command there were only three heavy dragoon -regiments in the field, and no British hussars. Of the latter, -a new introduction in the national Army, there was one -brigade present in 1808 during Sir John Moore’s operations,<a id="FNanchor_304" href="#Footnote_304" class="fnanchor">304</a> -and the same regiments came out in 1813, to see the last -year of the war.<a id="FNanchor_305" href="#Footnote_305" class="fnanchor">305</a> During the greater part of Wellington’s -campaigns the only hussars present with the army were -Hanoverians, the very efficient corps belonging to the King’s -German Legion. The fantastic hussar uniform of the -period, a development from a much simpler Hungarian -original, is well known. Over a jacket fitting tight to the -body, was worn the furred and braided pelisse, which was -usually not completely put on, but flung back, so as to hang -over the left shoulder. It flapped behind, and was a -hindrance rather than a covering. On the legs long overalls -were worn. The head-dress was a very large fur cap, or, as -it would have been called later, a busby. I find very severe -criticisms on this head-gear. One officer says, “These -flimsy, muff-like appendages encumber the heads of our -soldiers. The awkward cap, being constructed partly of -pasteboard, soaks up a great quantity of wet during the -violent rains of this country, and so becomes unbearably -heavy and disagreeable, while it affords no protection to -the wearer. At all times it can be cut down to his skull -with the greatest ease.”<a id="FNanchor_306" href="#Footnote_306" class="fnanchor">306</a> The cause of its adoption seems -to have been rather the Prince Regent’s eye for splendour -in military costume than anything else. For strength and -protection, no less than comfort, the light helmet of the -early dragoons was universally preferred by critics. Later -improvements made the busby more solid and less heavy, -but in 1808 it was evidently a most unsatisfactory head-dress.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Artillery Uniforms</div> - -<p>Artillery uniform may be described in a few words.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">299</span> -That of the horse artillery was a close copy of that of the -original light dragoon—black japanned helmet with fur -crest, blue jacket laced with gold (instead of the dragoon’s -silver) and buckskin breeches. Field artillery, on the other -hand, were clothed almost exactly like infantry of the line, -save that their coats were blue instead of red. Their tall -felt shako and tuft, trousers, and coat with white stripes, -were exactly similar to those of the linesmen. Engineer -officers wore a dress like that of line officers before the -shako came in, having a cocked hat down to the end of the -war, and trousers. The rank and file of that department—Royal -Military Artificers down to 1812,<a id="FNanchor_307" href="#Footnote_307" class="fnanchor">307</a> Royal Sappers and -Miners after—had shako and blue coat down to 1813, but -changed the latter for a red coat, like that of the line, in the -last-named year. It was braided with yellow across the -front instead of white, the only practical difference in -appearance.</p> - -<p>Doctors and commissaries down to the end of the war -were wearing a cocked hat, like that of a general or a staff -officer. Hence some queer mistakes, when these peaceful -gentlemen were mistaken for combatant officers, the colour -of their plume, the one differentiating point, failing to be -observed in the dusk or in dirty weather. It is said that -some young commissaries were prone to pass themselves -off as staff officers on the Spanish and Portuguese peasantry, -and even on local authorities. A ridiculous anecdote is -told of Doctor Maurice Quill, the surgeon of the Connaught -Rangers, who was the best-known humorist in the army.<a id="FNanchor_308" href="#Footnote_308" class="fnanchor">308</a> -A general, who caught a glimpse of his cocked hat behind a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">300</span> -hedge, took him for a staff-officer shirking, and hunted him -for some time from cover to cover, the doctor meanwhile -shouting back to him, “I’m off; seen plenty of fighting for -one day.” It was only when he took refuge with his mules -and medical panniers, that his irate pursuer discovered that -he was not a combatant officer. Other wearers of the cocked -hat were the drum-majors of the line, who are said to have -had much adulation paid to them by the country-folk, -because of their enormous gold-laced head-dress and lavish -display of braiding, which caused them to be taken for -brigadiers at the least.</p> - -<p>The most distinctive infantry uniform in the whole -army was that of the rifle battalions, whose sombre colours -contrasted in the most marked way with the red of the -British and the bright blue of the Portuguese line. -The dress of the 5/60th and the two light battalions of -the K.G.L. differed from that of the three battalions of the -95th, in that while both wore the dark rifle-green jacket, -the three German units had grey-blue trousers not unlike -those of the line, while the latter were in green from head -to foot. All wore black shakos of a high shape, like those -of other regiments, and with a green tuft or ball at the -front. The accoutrements were all black, in order to avoid -the showing of light or shining points on the body, when the -men were dispersed in skirmishing. In the head-dress of -the officers there was a certain variety, the 5/60th and 1st -Light battalion K.G.L. having a tall shako similar to that -of their rank and file, while those of the 95th and the -2nd Light battalion K.G.L. had a peculiar head-dress, -something like that of an eighteenth-century hussar; it was -a tall, narrow cap, much adorned with diagonal twists of -braid, and destitute of the peak to shade the eyes which -formed part of the normal shako; it had a green tuft at -the front. The 95th officers for some time wore over their -tight jackets a black furred and braided pelisse, in the -hussar style—surely a most absurd and inconvenient -encumbrance for men who were continually scrambling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">301</span> -through hedges, and working among thick brushwood. -When thrown back, as it seems generally to have been, it -must have caught in every possible twig. The officers’ -jackets were distinguished from the plain-breasted coat of -the rank and file by having a great quantity of narrow -braiding across the front: they all wore falling “wings,” -instead of epaulettes. The Portuguese caçador uniform, -save that it was brown and not bottle-green, reproduced -very closely the cut and form of that of the 5/60th.</p> - -<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> - -<div class="sidenote">“Brown Bess”</div> - -<p>A word as to armament naturally follows on notes concerning -uniform. The weapon that mainly won the -Peninsular victories was the “Tower musket” of the line -battalions, the famous “Brown Bess.” It was a heavy -flint-lock, fitted with a pan, and weighing about nine -pounds. Its effective range was about 300 yards, but no -accurate shooting could be relied upon at any range over -100. Indeed, the man who could hit an individual at that -distance must not only have been a good shot, but have -possessed a firelock of over average quality. Compared -with the rifle, already a weapon of precision, it was but a -haphazard sort of arm. At any distance over the 100 -yards the firing-line relied upon the general effect of the -volley that it gave, rather than on the shooting of each man. -Nevertheless, the British musket was decidedly a stronger, -better made and more accurate weapon than that used by -Continental armies, and was much preferred by our Spanish -and Portuguese allies to those of their own manufacture. -Its calibre was sixteen, its missile was a round leaden bullet -(a little heavier than the French ball, whose weight was -twenty to the pound), and made up with a stout paper -cartridge, of which each man normally carried sixty. In -order to secure certain ignition by the snapping of the flint, -the butt-end of the cartridge had to be torn open by the -teeth, before it was placed in the musket barrel, and a splash -of powder had to be thrown into the pan to catch the -spark and communicate it to the cartridge. The latter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">302</span> -was driven down the barrel by an iron ramrod. Raw -recruits in a moment of excitement, firing too fast, are said -not infrequently to have forgotten to withdraw the ramrod -after loading, and to have shot it away—which left them -helpless.</p> - -<p>The greatest hindrance to good musketry was wet. -Long-continued rain might penetrate the cartouch box, and -damp all the powder, so that every cartridge missed fire. But -even a sudden heavy squall might drench the particular -cartridge that was being handled, and make its torn-open -end incapable of ignition. Or it might wash the priming-powder -out of the pan, or damp it into a paste, so that it -could not catch fire. In either case, infantry fighting in a -rainstorm could not count on any certain fire-effect; not -one shot in four might go off, and troops surprised in open -order by cavalry would be very helpless. Their only -chance of salvation would be to form square and trust to -the defensive power of the bayonet. The latter weapon -was long, triangular, and rather heavy; its weight did not -make accurate shooting easier, when it was fixed.</p> - -<p>There was a somewhat lighter and more carefully made -weapon for light infantry battalions, called the light infantry -musket; except that its sights were more accurately seen -to, and that its length was slightly less, I cannot find that -it greatly differed from the normal Tower musket. The -same may be said of the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">fusil</i>, which was an older type of -light musket, which had originally given its name to all -fusiliers. The last time that it occurs in use, was when it -was given during the latter years of the war to the experimental -home battalions, into which boys under seventeen -were drafted. To suit their short stature and younger -muscles, fusils instead of full-sized muskets were served out -to them.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Baker Rifle</div> - -<p>Quite different from all muskets were the rifles served -out to the 5/60th, the 95th, and the Light Battalions of the -K.G.L. The pattern was called the Baker rifle, from -its inventor. It was a short weapon with a barrel two and a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">303</span> -half feet long, furnished with seven grooves within, which -made a quarter-turn in the length of the barrel. Its calibre -was a twenty bore, and it was stiff to load. An interesting -letter from one of the majors of the 5/60th to the assistant -adjutant-general at Cork, written just before the battalion -sailed for Portugal, makes a demand for 450 small mallets, -for the purpose of forcing the bullet down the barrel. -“They should be made of hard wood, with a handle about -six inches long, pierced with a hole at the extremity for -fastening a string to it.” Major Davy adds that “the -instrument is absolutely necessary,” and a mallet for every -two men should be furnished.<a id="FNanchor_309" href="#Footnote_309" class="fnanchor">309</a> These tools, however, were -in use only for a few months, were found not indispensable, -and were finally withdrawn. But to ram the ball home was -always a hard job, owing to the grooves. The rifleman -carried no bayonet, his second weapon being a very short -and curved sword, more useful for wood-chopping than -anything else.</p> - -<p>Sergeants were not yet armed like the rank and file, -except in the rifle battalions, where they carried the normal -weapon of the “Baker” type. In the Guards and line -alike they had a seven-foot spear with a cross-piece below -the head, to prevent over-penetration after a thrust.<a id="FNanchor_310" href="#Footnote_310" class="fnanchor">310</a> The -names of pike and halberd were used for it indifferently, -though the former was the more correct, the original -halberd having been a cut-and-thrust weapon with an -edge as well as a point. In addition, the sergeant carried -a brass-hilted sword at his left side. I have never found -any mention of its being used, the halberd being always the -preferred weapon—though in action a sergeant often picked -up a dead man’s musket, and joined in the firing.<a id="FNanchor_311" href="#Footnote_311" class="fnanchor">311</a> But,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">304</span> -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">en revanche</i>, I have found a confession by a newly made -sergeant of his having caught it between his legs, and had a -nasty fall, on his first appearance with the three stripes. -The weapon was slightly curved, and meant for cutting -rather than thrusting.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, the infantry officer’s sword was quite -straight and rather light, a thrusting weapon essentially. -There are many complaints that it was too slight for its -work—<i>e.g.</i> it had no chance against a French cavalry -sword, which would always batter it down, when the two -clashed in stroke and parry. I have found it called a -“toasting-fork,” and other insulting names. Many officers -provided themselves with foreign weapons of a heavier -make, and better adapted for cutting; no objection was -made to this departure from the regulations. Mounted and -staff officers carried a different sword—a curved broad-bladed -sabre, of the type of that used by light cavalry. -Rifle officers also used a curved sabre, of a rather short -make, and not the straight infantry sword.</p> - -<p>Heavy cavalry used the broad-sword with steel hilt and -guard, straight and very heavy. It could be used for the -thrust as well as for the cut, but it would seem that the -British dragoons (unlike the French cuirassiers) always -preferred the edge to the point. The sabre of the light -dragoon and the hussar was a markedly curved weapon, -very broad in the blade, and only suitable for the stroke, -though very occasionally we hear of a thrust being made.<a id="FNanchor_312" href="#Footnote_312" class="fnanchor">312</a> -From the enormous proportion of wounded to killed in -engagements where the French and English light cavalry -met, it is clear that the sabres of both sides were better suited -to maim than to slay. The thrusting sword of the cuirassiers -had a much more terrible reputation.</p> - -<p>The rank and file of the Royal Sappers and Miners -carried muskets and bayonets like infantry of the line, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">305</span> -their sergeants the regulation halberd. Horse artillery -gunners had sabres of the light dragoon type; but field -artillery only very short curved swords, like those of the -rifle regiments. The drivers, who were organized as a -separate corps, had no weapons at all, in order that their -attention might not be distracted from their horses. This -seems to have been a very doubtful expedient, leaving them -absolutely helpless if attacked by hostile cavalry. It may -have originated from the fact that the driver, far into the -eighteenth century, had not been a soldier at all, but a -“waggoner,” a civilian without uniform or arms. It was -only in 1794 that the corps of Artillery Drivers was formed -upon this rather unpromising basis.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Regimental Colours</div> - -<p>This is probably the place in which mention should be -made of the standards under which the army fought.<a id="FNanchor_313" href="#Footnote_313" class="fnanchor">313</a> -Cavalry banners or <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">guidons</i> had just gone out—if used at -all in the Peninsular War, it was only in its first year. -Reports from the later years show that all regiments had -left them either at their depôt in England, or in some cases -at Lisbon. But infantry regiments, with few exceptions, -took their flags into the field, as was the custom with their -successors down to the last generation. It was only in the -1880’s that they finally ceased to be displayed on active -service. The Rifles, always destined to fight in extended -order, never had colours, and the regimental annals of -some Light Infantry corps (the 68th and 71st) show that -for similar reasons they had left their standards behind in -England. But this was not the case with all Light Infantry: -the famous 43rd and 52nd carried them all through the war.</p> - -<p>Of the two battalion colours the one or “King’s Colour” -was a large Union Jack, with the regiment’s number on a -shield or medallion, often encompassed with a wreath, and -sometimes also with the badge of the corps, when such -existed. The second or Regimental colour was of the same -hue as the facings of the corps, and only had a small Union<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">306</span> -Jack in its upper left corner, next the pole. On the plain -silk of the main surface of the flag were disposed the number -of the regiment, often in a wreath, and its badges and -battle-honours, where such existed. Since facings had -many hues, the main effect of the two flags was very -different, the large Union Jack of the King’s Colour being -contrasted with the yellow, green, crimson, or white, etc., -of the Regimental Colour.</p> - -<p>The colours were borne in battle by the two junior -ensigns of the battalion, who had assigned to them for -protection several colour-sergeants. It was the duty of -these non-commissioned officers to take charge of the flag -if the proper bearer were slain or hurt, and in many battles -both colours came out of action in sergeants’ hands. The -post of colour-sergeant was honourable but dangerous, for -the enemy’s fire always beat hardest about the standards -in the centre of the battalion line. Sergeant Lawrence of -the 40th notes, in his simple diary, that at Waterloo he was -ordered to the colours late in the day, because both the -ensigns and all the colour-sergeants had been hit. “Though -used to warfare as any one, this was a job I did not like. -There had been before me that day <em>fourteen</em> sergeants -already killed or wounded around them, and both staff and -colours were almost cut to pieces.”<a id="FNanchor_314" href="#Footnote_314" class="fnanchor">314</a> This was, of course, -very exceptional carnage; but the posts of junior ensign and -colour-sergeant were always exceptionally dangerous.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">307</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIX" class="vspace">CHAPTER XIX<br /> - -<span class="subhead">THE COMMISSARIAT</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>As I have already had occasion to remark, when dealing -with the central organization of the Peninsular Army, -of all the departments which had their representatives -at Head Quarters that which was under the charge of the -Commissary-General was the most important.<a id="FNanchor_315" href="#Footnote_315" class="fnanchor">315</a> It is not -too much to say that, when the long struggle began, the -whole future of the war depended on whether the hastily -organized and inexperienced Commissariat Department -could enable Wellington to keep his army concentrated, -and to move it freely in any direction.</p> - -<p>Spain and Portugal are countries where large armies -cannot be supplied from local resources, except in a few -favoured districts. Any attempt to live on requisitions was -bound to fail in the end, as the French realized to their -sorrow, after a long series of endeavours to subsist on the -countryside in the Peninsula, as they were wont to do in -Italy or Germany. Wellington from the first forbade it, -and resolved that the main dependence of the troops must -be on regular stores brought up from the base of operations. -Requisitions were only a subsidiary resource; they could -only be made by an authorized commissary, and must be -paid for at once. It was his misfortune that specie was often -not forthcoming, and the payments had to be made by -Treasury orders or other paper, which the peasants who -received them found hard to negotiate. But payment in -some form was always made.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">308</span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">All-Importance of Convoys</div> - -<p>At the best, requisitions were only a secondary aid, and -the army relied for the staple of its provisions on the stores -which the Commissary-General had to bring up from Lisbon -or other bases. This was a hard task for him, when it is -remembered that the cross roads of the Peninsula were -mule-tracks, on which heavy wheeled traffic could not pass; -and that the army was often operating at a distance of -150 or 200 miles from its depôts. Moreover, in 1809, -the staff of the Commissariat had all their work to learn—no -British army for many years had been operating in -heavy force, and for many months on end, in a thinly-peopled -continental theatre of war. The difficulty of -bringing up the daily food of the troops seemed at first -almost insuperable. At the end of the Talavera campaign -the men were well-nigh famished, simply because the -attempt had been made to depend more than was possible -on local resources, to the neglect of convoys from the base. -After this experience Wellington resolved that he must -live on his own stores, and this principle was remembered -throughout the war. Hence the work which fell on the -commissariat, in collecting and forwarding food from the -base, was appalling. Most of it had to be conveyed by -brigades of pack-mules with native drivers, who were hard -to manage and prone to desert. The rest came up on country -carts—ox-waggons for the most part. That mistakes and -delays occurred, that a brigade or a division was occasionally -foodless for several days, and forced to halt in the middle -of a critical operation, is not wonderful. But on the whole -after much toil and trouble the Commissariat succeeded in -doing its duty, and the length of time for which the British -army could keep concentrated was the envy of the French, -who, living on the country, were forced to disperse whenever -they had exhausted the resources of the particular -region in which they were massed.</p> - -<p>All through the years 1811–12 the central fact in the -Peninsula was that if the French armies of Portugal and -the North concentrated at Salamanca and Rodrigo, or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">309</span> -if (on the other hand) those of Portugal and Andalusia -joined on the Guadiana, in the region of Badajoz and -Merida, the Anglo-Portuguese were too weak to face the -combination. Wellington had to abandon the offensive, -and to seek refuge behind the Portuguese frontier. But -when he did so, as in June, 1811, and again in September -of the same year, he knew that the overwhelming force -in front of him could not hold itself together for more than -a very short period of days. Troops brought from enormous -distances, and destitute of any adequate magazines or -transport, could not live on the countryside for more than -a limited period. They were forced to disperse, in order -to feed, and so the threatening conjunction passed, and, -when the enemy had drawn apart, the allied army could -once more abandon the defensive, and take some positive -project in hand. The same was the case in the late autumn -of 1812, during the retreat from Burgos. Wellington on this -occasion had on his hands the largest combination of French -troops that he ever faced—the four armies of Portugal, -the North, the Centre, and Andalusia were all pressing in -upon him. It would have been hopeless to fight, and so -retreat was persevered in, so long as the enemy continued -to advance. But Wellington knew that the progress of -the 100,000 men now pursuing him must inevitably come -to an end, for in their rapid course they could bring no -stores with them, and in the war-worn country between -Salamanca and Rodrigo they could obtain nothing. Where -his own troops, though returning toward their base and -their depôts, were hard put to it for food, the French must -be suffering even more. Wherefore he retreated, waiting -for the inevitable moment when the pursuit could be no -longer urged. It mattered little whether it stopped at -Salamanca, or a march or so beyond (as actually happened), -or whether it might get a little further, as far as the Portuguese -frontier. It was certain, within a period of days, -that it must break down. Meanwhile he himself was retreating -on to his stores, and could depend upon them:<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">310</span> -after Rodrigo the men were getting their full rations once -more.</p> - -<p>The duties of the Commissariat may be divided into -three sections—the first was the accumulation of great -masses of sea-borne stores at the regular bases, the second -was the distribution of those stores to the troops at the -front by an immense system of convoys; the third and -subsidiary task was the supplementing of these base-stores, -by getting in what could be procured in the countryside, -where the army was operating; for, of course, every <i xml:lang="es" lang="es">fanega</i> -or <i xml:lang="es" lang="es">arroba</i> of food-stuff that could be obtained at the front -was helpful. It had not to be carried far, it saved convoy -work, and it kept the magazines at the base from depletion. -Yet, as has been already remarked, what was got in the -countryside was always considered as the secondary source -of supply; the main reliance was on the food-ships, which -poured into the base-depôt of Lisbon corn sought in -the ends of the earth, not only in such limited parts of -Europe as could be drawn upon in the days of the -Continental System, but in Morocco, Turkey in Asia, and -America.</p> - -<p>The maintenance of the Peninsular War entirely depended -on the naval predominance of Great Britain in all -seas; if the army of Wellington had not been able to draw -freely on distant resources, his position would have been -little better than that of his French enemies. Hence it -was that, in one sense, the greatest danger that he ever -incurred was the American War of 1812–14, which turned -loose upon his line of communications, in the North Atlantic, -many scores of active and enterprising privateers, who -did considerable damage among British shipping, and for -the first time since the war began made the high seas -insecure. But fortunately the commencement of the -American War exactly synchronized with the beginnings -of Napoleon’s downfall, and the struggle in Europe took -a favourable turn just as the peril on the ocean came into -being. If the American War had broken out in 1809 or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">311</span> -1810, its significance would have been of much higher -importance.</p> - -<p>The normal condition of commissariat affairs, during -the first four years of the war, was that there were daily -arriving in Lisbon supplies of all sorts, not only food but -clothing, munitions, and weapons of war, which had to -be got forward to the army as quickly as possible. In -the winter of 1810–11, when the whole of Wellington’s -host lay concentrated behind (or later in advance of) the -Lines of Torres Vedras, the problem was comparatively -simple, as the troops were close to the magazines. But -during the remainder of the years 1811–12 the British divisions -were lying out at a long distance from their base—by -Guarda, Celorico, or Almeida, or at other times near -Merida, Campo Mayor, and Portalegre. In 1812, when -Wellington moved forward as far as Madrid and Burgos, -the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">étapes</i> between the base-depôt and the field army -were even greater.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Water Transport</div> - -<p>The Commissary-General’s duty was to see that convoys -went regularly to the front, so that the army should never -be in want. This was a hard business, since most of the -transfer had to be made on mule-back, and the rest on ox-carts -of primitive construction and small capacity. Water-carriage, -which would have been comparatively easy, -could only be utilized on a limited scale; the Tagus was -generally navigable to Abrantes, and when the main army -lay in Estremadura this was a great help, since stores could -be sent up in barges and country boats with much greater -ease than by road. When unloaded at Abrantes, they -had a comparatively short way to travel by mule or ox-cart -to Elvas or Portalegre. But usually only Hill’s two -divisions were on the Estremadura frontier, and Wellington -with the main force was somewhere on the Beira frontier, -in the direction of Guarda, Sabugal, and the Coa. These -regions are 150 miles or more from Lisbon, and the roads -beyond Coimbra on the one side and Abrantes on the -other were rugged and badly kept. It was a trying business<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">312</span> -to secure the constant and regular forwarding of the necessary -convoys, and the return of beasts and men to the -base, when they had discharged their loads at the front. -A very slight assistance was got by using the river Douro -as a secondary line of water carriage—but it was only navigable -to Peso da Regoa near Lamego, which was so far -from the Spanish frontier and the normal haunts of the -army, that little was gained by sending stores to Oporto -as a secondary base-depôt. In 1811 the only large consignments -forwarded on that line were the heavy guns -and ammunition, which were to form the siege-train that -Dickson was organizing at Villa da Ponte,<a id="FNanchor_316" href="#Footnote_316" class="fnanchor">316</a> which is comparatively -close to Lamego, though the roads between -them were very bad. In 1812 Wellington’s engineers, by -patient blasting and dredging in the bed of the Douro, -made it navigable as far as Castro de Alva, which is forty -miles up-stream from Peso da Regoa, and lies not very -remote from Almeida. After this the Douro became much -more useful as a line of supply, and it was largely used for -the forwarding of stores before the opening of the campaign -of 1813. But, just as it had become available on a better -scale, Wellington started the great march to Vittoria, -whose success took him away for ever from Portugal. -During the last year of the war he suddenly shifted his -base, and made Santander and Passages his base-ports, -so that the improvements in the navigation of the Douro -were of no further utility.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Mule-Train</div> - -<p>A great part of the Commissary-General’s staff was kept -at Lisbon, with a smaller sub-department at Oporto, -receiving from the ships, unloading, and repacking the -immense stores that came to hand. Every few days a -convoy started for the front, under the charge of a deputy-assistant-commissary, -a commissariat-clerk, or some such -subordinate. It would usually consist of a large drove of -hired mules, worked by their owners, who generally acted together -in gangs or parties, of which a <i xml:lang="pt" lang="pt">capataz</i> or head-driver,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">313</span> -chosen by his comrades, was the chief, and did the bargaining -with the commissariat authorities. The convoy -would probably consist of the gangs of five or six <i xml:lang="pt" lang="pt">capatazes</i>, -and would number many scores of beasts. The commissariat -official in charge had no easy task to make the -muleteers get over a reasonable daily stretch of road, and -to see that they did not steal from the stores, or (what was -not unknown when there was a quarrel) desert with their -beasts. When the convoy got near the front, it would -have to be provided with an escort—generally convalescents -returning to their battalions, or drafts newly arrived from -England. But the escorts were not an unmixed blessing—they -were terribly prone to picking and stealing from the -stores, with or without the connivance of the muleteers. -There was nearly always trouble when a small escort, -without an officer to keep his men in hand, got associated -with a mule train. Brawls were frequent between soldiers -and muleteers, and the assistant-commissary in charge -could not get the escort to obey him: sergeants looked -upon him as a mere civilian in a cocked hat, who might be -contemned. Nor was the task of such an unfortunate -official rendered more easy by the fact that, owing to sheer -want of hard cash, his muleteers were usually in long arrears -of their stipulated hire. They naturally grumbled, but on -the whole stuck to their service far more faithfully than -might have been expected; there were times when the -whole body of them were many months unpaid, yet only -a small proportion disappeared. Probably the fact that -they escaped the conscription by being registered as authorized -followers of the British Army had something to do with -their long-suffering: probably also real patriotism had some -share, for they all loyally hated the French, and were prone -to cut the throats of their wounded, if left unshepherded -near a recent battlefield.</p> - -<p>Wheeled transport was much less satisfactory than the -mule trains for continuous movement. The British waggons -sent out to the Peninsula turned out to be quite useless<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">314</span> -for Portuguese by-roads. Wellington finally gave up all -idea of relying on them for load-carrying, and mainly -employed them for his sick and wounded. A few of the -“spring waggons” (as they were called to distinguish them -from the springless Portuguese vehicles)<a id="FNanchor_317" href="#Footnote_317" class="fnanchor">317</a> were attached -to each brigade for the carriage of invalids, and the “Royal -Waggon Train” in the later years of the war seem to have -been almost treated as an ambulance corps. Certainly -the army would have been in evil case, if it had been forced -to rely on them for the moving of its food.</p> - -<p>Such stores as did move upon wheels, and not upon -mule-back, were carried on Portuguese ox-waggons, to -which Wellington was compelled to have recourse for want -of better vehicles. These were very primitive structures—the -sides of wicker work, the wheels made of solid circles -of wood bounded with iron, turning axle and all, which made -their grinding noise almost intolerable. The excruciating -thrills caused to the ear by a train of such carts are mentioned -with disgust by nearly every Peninsular diarist, on his first -introduction to life at the front. The only advantages -of ox-waggons were that they were light, easy to repair, -and specially built for the bad roads of the country: moreover, -every peasant knew how to drive them, or to mend -them at a pinch. Their weak points were that they were -intolerably slow—two miles an hour was a full allowance—and -that they were too small to carry much. However, -they had to serve for want of better vehicles—and the -army could not have lived without their service. An -immense amount of them were employed, some on regular -and long terms of hire, as part of the permanent transport -of the army, others in a more temporary way, by requisition -from the district. These last were always difficult to -manage; professional muleteers would not object to travel, -but impressed peasants loathed quitting their own district, -fearing that they might be taken far afield—perhaps into -Spain—before they were released. They were always<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">315</span> -trying to abscond with their precious bullocks, abandoning -the comparatively worthless cart and its stores. A picture -of the sort may be taken from Hennegan’s lively narrative -of a march in 1809, when he had to take an unwilling -train of “embargoed” waggoners across the mountains of -Northern Beira.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Desertion of Drivers</div> - -<p>“Leaning on their oxen at nightfall, they contemplated -in mute dismay on one side the gigantic hill which they -had just descended, on the other the roaring torrent of the -Douro, which in its impetuous course seemed to threaten -with destruction the temerity that would brave its power. -The <i xml:lang="pt" lang="pt">Santa Marias</i> of some were answered by the more -emphatic <em xml:lang="es" lang="es">carajos!</em> of others, but even these died away -before the necessities of the moment, and unyoking the -oxen, to afford them the shelter of trees, the drivers spread -their large cloaks in the empty sheds, and soon in sleep -seemed to forget their disappointment. The poor men, -taken from their homes for our service, risked in the loss -of their oxen the only means of support for themselves and -families.</p> - -<p>“The following morning, however, presented a curious -scene. There stood the wains, securely packed, but looking -as if the earth had brought them forth, for no vestige -remained of the means by which they had been brought -to this lonely spot. The rumour of the proximity of the -French had determined these Portuguese on sacrificing the -wains, if only they could ensure the preservation of themselves -and oxen. What was now to be done?”<a id="FNanchor_318" href="#Footnote_318" class="fnanchor">318</a></p> - -<p>As a matter of fact, the non-plussed guardian of the -deserted convoy had to remain motionless for many days, -risking the possible arrival of the French, till at last he -procured boats on the Douro, and shipped his charge -down to Oporto. Hennegan’s peasants got away with their -bullocks—he and his escort were evidently sleepy and unsuspecting: -but often a good watch was kept on the teams, -and sentries placed over them. In such cases, if the weather<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">316</span> -was bad, or the French too near, the drivers would often -sacrifice even their loved beasts, and simply abscond -themselves, abandoning their means of livelihood.</p> - -<p>It says much for the general zeal of the Commissariat -Department that, even with such difficulties about them, -they usually succeeded in keeping the army supplied with -food. Occasionally there were desperate pinches of starvation, -when the army had out-marched its convoys—this, -for example, happened on the Alva in March, 1811, when -half of the army, in pursuit of Masséna, had to stop dead -for several days, because their rapid advance had left the -slow-moving mule-trains several marches behind. To press -the French would have been most profitable—but if the -troops had gone on, through the depopulated land before -them, they must have perished of sheer want of food, and -Wellington reluctantly halted till the convoys began to -creep up to the front. Another period of empty stomachs -was seen during the retreat from Burgos, from the opposite -cause; forced to give back, Wellington started his train -betimes for Ciudad Rodrigo, to get it out of the proximity -of the oncoming enemy. Hence the rear divisions, who -had to contain the pursuers and to move slowly, found, -when they had eaten what was in their haversacks, that -the convoys were all several marches ahead of them. They -suffered terribly, and existed for two days mainly on acorns -gleaned from the oak forests through which they were -marching. But mischances of this kind were hardly to -be considered the fault of the Commissariat.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Resources of the Country</div> - -<p>As I have already had to remark, the duty of the officers -of this department did not merely consist in bringing up -and distributing food forwarded from the base depôts. -They had also, as a subsidiary resource, to get what they -could out of the countryside. A good assistant-commissary -was always casting about, through the villages -on either side of the route of the brigade to which he was -attached, to find cattle and corn that could be bought. -He was forced to pay for them, since Wellington strictly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">317</span> -forbade requisition without value given. When the commissary -had dollars the matter was not so difficult, for the -peasants were generally ready to sell. But when, as often -happened, the military chest was empty, and payment -could only be made in <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">vales</i>—paper promises to pay—the -inhabitants soon got wind of the fact, hid their corn, and -drove their oxen up into the hills. The good commissary -was the man, who, under such circumstances could discover -and get possession of the concealed resources of the -land. But even if there was money in hand, a good deal -of tact was required in dealing with the natives, and it was -not every one who would make the most of his store of -cash or paper for the benefit of his brigade. How the -ingenious man worked may be gathered from a note of -Commissary Dallas, dealing with a march through Northern -Andalusia in 1812.<a id="FNanchor_319" href="#Footnote_319" class="fnanchor">319</a></p> - -<p>“Having made careful inquiries as to the properties -and farms which lay at some distance to right or left of -the road, our plan was to seek them, not saying a word -of our object, but simply asking hospitality. I do not -remember that this was ever refused, though sometimes -we failed to gain anything. We usually began with talking -of the horrors of the French, of which Andres had many -terrible chapters to relate. This led to expressions of grief -as to the ravages that the enemy had made: by degrees -we introduced a word of rejoicing that some people had so -well known how to hide their property from such rapacious -robbers. It often happened that at the word <i xml:lang="es" lang="es">esconder</i>, to hide, -there were indications on the countenances of some of the -party which led to further inquiries. On many occasions -we drew out hints from various members of the community -which enabled us to jump to conclusions, which surprised -other members, as to the concealment of stores of wheat, -barley, Indian corn, etc. The difficulty was to obtain -access to the supplies, when we had become aware of their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">318</span> -existence; but I had power to give a good price, and was -armed with plenary authority of Spanish officials to say -that my drafts would be honoured in due course.</p> - -<p>“An incident or two will illustrate the manner in which -we got supplies. At one distant solitary house of poor appearance -Andres discovered that, while everything looked -poverty-stricken about the place, there was somewhere in -a thick wood a barn which contained concealed stores. -I told the mistress of the house of the very high price that -I would give for wheat, Indian corn, or forage. In the -grey October dawn I was awoke by her husband, who told -me he could supply what I wanted, if I would give a certain -price, which he named. I said that I must see the supplies -before I gave money. He bade me rise, and he would -show me. He led me two miles to a thick wood, in which -was a deep ravine; here he brought me safely to a receptacle -of much hidden store, which I took at his own price, and -gave him the proper document. In one part of the Sierra -Morena we heard of a considerable flock of sheep secreted -in the depth of a forest. I obtained the permission of the -owner to possess them for a certain price <em>if I could get them</em>, -for he himself could not point out the spot where they -were to be found. After gathering what information I -could, I set forth in the hope of finding them, and did so by -following a track of sheep till I arrived in the middle of -the flock. I told the two shepherds that I had purchased -them—they were doubtful and one very refractory. But -at last one of them drove the sheep to the open plain outside -the forest, and then disappeared among the trees with his -dog, leaving me to drive the flock as I could. It was no -easy task—but I got them into an enclosure a considerable -way off.”<a id="FNanchor_320" href="#Footnote_320" class="fnanchor">320</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Unpopular Commissary</div> - -<p>If these were the experiences of a Commissariat official -who had been three years in Spain, and knew the language -well, it is easy to guess how inefficient a newly landed clerk<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">319</span> -or assistant must have been, when he was sent to sweep -the countryside for what he could discover. It was a -thankless task—often the seeker came back empty, to be -frowned upon by his departmental chief and the brigadier. -When he did discover food, it was taken for granted, and -he was little thanked. The fighting men seem to have -had a general prejudice against their providers—they were -accused of being timid, arrogant, and selfish, and the -embezzlements of certain black sheep were made to cover a -general charge of dishonesty against the whole tribe, which -was far from being justified. Misfeasance there certainly -was, when an unscrupulous commissary credited a peasant -with more <i xml:lang="pt" lang="pt">fanegas</i> than he had received, and divided the -balance of cash with the seller. But on the whole the -work was well done, despite of the many complaints of the -military—from Wellington himself downwards. That the -Peninsular War was successfully maintained in 1810–11–12 -was surely, at bottom, the work of the much-maligned -commissaries, and the motley band of ill-paid and sometimes -ruffianly muleteers and waggoners, who, through a thousand -difficulties,<a id="FNanchor_321" href="#Footnote_321" class="fnanchor">321</a> generally got the biscuit and the rum-barrels, -the droves of bullocks, and the packs of clothing and shoes, -to their appointed destination.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">320</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XX" class="vspace">CHAPTER XX<br /> - -<span class="subhead">A NOTE ON THINGS SPIRITUAL</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>In the first chapter of this volume I had occasion to remark -that Wellington’s army had in its ranks a considerable -sprinkling of men of religion, and that three or four of -the better Peninsular memoirs were written by them. -Some were Methodists, some Churchmen, so that both -sides of the great spiritual movement which had started -about the middle of the eighteenth century were represented -in their diaries. The spiritual side of the soldier’s life -during the great war has had so little written about it, -that a few illustrative pages on this topic must not be -omitted.</p> - -<p>We may trace the existence of the admirable class of -men who have left us these memoirs to two separate -causes. The one, of course, was the way in which the -movement started by the Wesleys had influenced all -ranks of life, from the lowest upward. Its effects had -not been confined to avowed Methodists, but had led to -the rise of the Evangelical party within the Church of -England, which was developing very rapidly all through -the days of the Great War. But I think that even if the -Wesleys had never lived, there would yet have been a -strong reaction in favour of godly living and the open -profession of Christianity, in consequence of the blasphemous -antics of the French Revolution. Nothing in -that movement so disgusted Englishmen (even those of -them who were not much given to practical religion) as the -story of the “Goddess of Reason,” enthroned on the high-altar -of Notre Dame, at the time when an orgy of bloodshed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">321</span> -was making odious the flatulent talk about humanitarianism -and liberty which was the staple of Revolutionary oratory. -The peculiar combination of insult to Christianity, open -evil living, and wholesale judicial murder, which distinguished -the time of the Terror, had an effect on observers -comparable to nothing else that has been seen in modern -times. Even men who had not hitherto taken their -religion very seriously, began to think that a hell was -logically necessary in the scheme of creation for beings -like Chaumette or Hébert, Fouquier Tinville or Carrier of -the <cite>Noyades</cite>. And, we may add, a personal devil was -surely required, to account for the promptings of insane -wickedness which led to the actions of such people. A -tightening up of religious observances, such as the use of -family prayer and regular attendance at Church, was a -marked feature of the time. It required some time for -the movement to spread, but its effect was soon observable. -It naturally took shape in adhesion to Evangelical societies -within the Church of England, or Methodist societies -without it; since these were the already existing nuclei -round which those whose souls had been stirred by the -horrors in France and the imminent peril of Great Britain -would group themselves.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Effects of the French Revolution</div> - -<p>Very soon the day was over in which “enthusiasm” -was the dread of all normal easy-going men. Something -more than the eighteenth century religious sentimentalism, -and vague spiritual philosophy, was needed for a nation -which had to fight for life and empire against the French -Republic and all its works. Those methods of thought -were sufficiently discredited by the fact that there was a -touch of Rousseau in them: it was easy to look over the -Channel, and see to what a belief in some nebulous Supreme -Being, and in the perfectibility and essential righteousness -of mankind at large, might lead. The God of the Old -Testament was a much more satisfactory object of worship -to the men who had to face the Jacobin, and Calvinism -has always proved a good fighting creed. If ever there<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">322</span> -was a justification for a belief that the enemy were in a -condition of complete reprobation, and that to smite -them was the duty of every Christian man, it was surely -at this time. The conviction of the universality of sin -and the natural wickedness of the human heart was the -exact opposite and antidote to the optimistic philosophy -of the eighteenth century, and to its belief that man is -essentially a benevolent being, and that if he sometimes -breaks out into deplorable violence “<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tout comprendre est -tout pardonner</i>.” As a working hypothesis for an enemy -of the French Revolution the Calvinistic theory had -everything in its favour.</p> - -<p>The army, like English society in general, contained an -appreciable proportion of those whom the stress and terror -of the times had made anxious about their souls. Some -took their religious experience quietly, and found sufficient -edification in accepted forms. Many, however, filled with -a fervent belief in original sin and in the blackness of their -own hearts, only got comfort by “conversion” in the prevalent -form of the day, and in subsequent reliance on -complete Justification by Faith.</p> - -<p>“Conversion” was frequently a matter of dire spiritual -agony and wrestling, often accompanied by fits of horrible -depression, which were generally fought down, but sometimes -ended in religious mania. Sergeant Donaldson of the -94th, whom I have often had to quote in other chapters, -tells a terrible tale from his own regiment of a man whose -weak point had been a violent temper, and a tendency to -use his fists. Being under strong religious emotion, and -having determined never again to offend in this way, he -had the misfortune to break out once more in unjustifiable -blows, administered to his peasant landlord in the village -of Ustaritz. Ashamed of his backsliding he fell into a -fit of despair, and brooding over the text “if thy right hand -offend thee, cut it off,” he resolved that this was the only -cure for his irascibility. Whereupon he went, and without -any display of emotion or eccentricity, very quietly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">323</span> -borrowed a felling-axe from one of the regimental pioneers, -placed his right hand upon a window-sill, and cut it off -with a single blow delivered very dexterously with his -left. He then went and reported his act and its reason to -the regimental surgeon, with great calmness and lucidity.<a id="FNanchor_322" href="#Footnote_322" class="fnanchor">322</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Agonies of Conversion</div> - -<p>Such incidents as this were rare among those who were -undergoing the process of Conversion, but it was generally -accompanied by long spasms of conviction of sin, when, -as one memoir-writer records, “all the crimes of his life -passed before him in black array, when he felt that if he -could but bury himself in a cave or den of the earth, and -forego all intercourse with mankind, it would be to purchase -pardon and peace easily and cheaply.... Life was but -the dreadful expectation of that fatal hour when the -fiend would be commissioned to seize and carry off the -guilty soul to its abode of everlasting misery.”<a id="FNanchor_323" href="#Footnote_323" class="fnanchor">323</a> Another -diarist records that, as he went down toward the great -breach of Badajoz, he was repeating to himself very forcibly, -“You will be in hell before daylight” all the time, till he -received a disabling wound. This rifleman, when he -experienced conversion, received therewith an unexpected -gift of metrical exposition. His autobiography is curiously -sprinkled with his impromptu verses such <span class="locked">as—</span></p> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="iq">“Then why let our minds be encumbered<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Bout what such poor worms may befall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the hairs of our head are all numbered<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By Him who reigns King over all?”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="in0">And <span class="locked">again—</span></p> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="iq">“I shall go where duty calls me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Patient bearing what befalls me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Jesus Christ will bring me through!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bullets, cannon balls or death<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cannot hurt ‘the better part,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So I’ll list to what He saith<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till He bids me home depart.”<a id="FNanchor_324" href="#Footnote_324" class="fnanchor">324</a><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<p class="in0"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">324</span> -This ecstatic confidence of the converted man is very -clearly expressed in many a little book. A Guards’ sergeant, -whose memoirs I have had occasion to quote in earlier -chapters, mentions that, all through the hard experience of -his brigade at Talavera, he was comforted by the thought -that, however disastrous the day was looking, “the Lord -can save us now.”</p> - -<p>“Standing between the enemy and my own men, -with the shot ploughing up the ground all about me, the -Lord kept me from all fear, and I got back to my place in -the line without injury and without agitation. Indeed, -who should be so firm as the Christian soldier, who has -the assurance in his breast that to depart and to be with -Christ is far better than to continue toiling here below?”<a id="FNanchor_325" href="#Footnote_325" class="fnanchor">325</a> -On another occasion this diarist, in a long waiting spell -before a dangerous disembarkation, found Wesley’s two -hundred and twenty-seventh hymn running in his mind -all the morning, to the inexpressible comfort of his soul -during an anxious time.</p> - -<p>This kind of comfortable ecstasy did not by any means -preclude a ready and competent employment of musket -and bayonet. One or two of the notable personal exploits -of the Peninsular War were done by “saints.” There is -a special mention in several diaries, regimental and general, -of John Rae, of the 71st, a well-known Methodist, who -at the combat of Sobral (October 14, 1810), being the -last man of the skirmishers of his battalion to retire, was -beset by three French <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tirailleurs</i>, on whom he turned, and -shot one and bayoneted the other two in the twinkling -of an eye. He received a medal for his conduct from his -brigadier, who had been an eye-witness of the affair.<a id="FNanchor_326" href="#Footnote_326" class="fnanchor">326</a></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wellington’s Views on Religion</div> - -<p>The attitude of Wellington toward religion at large, -and religious soldiers in particular, was very much what<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">325</span> -one might have expected from his peculiar blend of personal -characteristics. He was a sincere believer in Christianity -as presented by the Church of England, but he had not -been in the least affected by recent evangelical developments, -and his belief was of a rather dry and official sort; an officer -who took to public preaching and the forming of religious -societies was only two or three degrees less distasteful to -him than an officer who was foul-mouthed in his language -and openly contemned holy things. I fancy that the -Duke would have been inclined to regard both as “ungentlemanly.” -Religion with him was the due recognition -of the fact that man has a Creator, who has imposed upon -him a code of laws and a system of morality which it is -man’s duty to remember, and so far as he may, to observe. -He was quite ready to acknowledge that he had his own -failings, but trusted that they were not unpardonable ones. -The two or three Evangelical enthusiasts who had the -courage to tackle him in his later days on the subject of -his soul, got small profit thereby.<a id="FNanchor_327" href="#Footnote_327" class="fnanchor">327</a></p> - -<p>It is highly to his credit that he made from 1810 onward -a serious attempt to organize a system of brigade chaplaincies -for his army, and to see that the men should not lack -the possibility of public worship. Down to that year the -chaplains’ department had been much neglected: large -expeditions had gone out without a single clergyman -attached, and in the first Peninsular Army of 1808 there -had been very few—though two of them, Ormsby and -Bradford, happen to have left interesting books behind -them, the latter’s beautifully illustrated by sketches. -Wellington complained that the provision that he found -in 1809 was wholly inadequate, asked for and obtained an -additional establishment, and made arrangements for -regular Sunday services in each brigade.</p> - -<p>The letter of February 6, 1811, in which he explains<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">326</span> -his views to the Adjutant General at the Horse Guards is -a very characteristic document. “The army should have -the advantage of religious instruction, from a knowledge -that it is the greatest support and aid to military discipline -and order.” But there are not enough chaplains, and -those that exist are not always “respectable.” The -prospects of a military chaplain are not attractive enough; -on retirement he is much worse off than he would have been -“if he had followed any other line of the clerical profession -besides the army.” Hence few good men are obtained. -For want of sufficiently numerous and influential official -teachers, spontaneous religious life has broken out in the -army. There are three Methodist meetings in the 1st -Division alone. In the 9th regiment two officers are preaching, -in despite of their colonels’ dissuasions.</p> - -<p>“The meeting of soldiers in their cantonments to sing -psalms, or to hear a sermon read by one of their comrades is, -in the abstract, perfectly innocent; it is a better way of -spending their time than many others to which they are -addicted. But it may become otherwise, and yet, till the -abuse has made some progress, their commanding officer -would have no knowledge of it, nor could he interfere.”</p> - -<p>Official religious instruction is the proper remedy. A -“respectable clergyman” is wanted, who “by his personal -influence and advice, and by that of true religion, would -moderate the zeal and enthusiasm of those people, and -prevent meetings from becoming mischievous, even if he -could not prevail upon them to discontinue them entirely.” -Wherefore the Adjutant General must provide for a larger -establishment of “respectable and efficient clergymen.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Chaplains</div> - -<p>The Horse Guards complied at once: chaplains, it was -replied, should be sent out “selected with the utmost care -and circumspection by the first prelates of the country.” -Their pay was raised, and they were directed to conclude -every service with a short practical sermon, suited to the -habits and understanding of soldiers. “Good preaching,” -adds the Adjutant General, “is more than ever required<span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">327</span> -at a time peculiarly marked by the exertions and interference -of sectaries of various denominations.”<a id="FNanchor_328" href="#Footnote_328" class="fnanchor">328</a></p> - -<p>The chaplains duly appeared. There were good men -among them, but they were not, taken as a whole, a complete -success. Perhaps the idea, equally nourished by -Wellington and by the Horse Guards, that “respectable” -clergymen rather than enthusiasts should be drafted out, -was the cardinal mistake; the sort of men that were really -wanted at the front were precisely the enthusiasts, like that -Rev. T. Owen (afterwards secretary of the British and -Foreign Bible Society), of whom we are told that he was in -days of action so far forward in the field that officers -warned him that he would infallibly be killed. His reply -was that his primary duty was “to be of service to those -now departing this life.”<a id="FNanchor_329" href="#Footnote_329" class="fnanchor">329</a> This sort of laudable energy, -I am bound to say, does not seem to have been the most -common characteristic of the chaplains, if we may trust -the diaries of the time.</p> - -<p>A good many of them were sent straight out from a -country curacy to the front, had no special knowledge of -soldiers and their ways, and were appalled at having to -face the great facts of life and death in their crudest form -day after day. There is one distressing picture of a young -clergyman suddenly confronted in the guard-tent with -five deserters who were to be shot that afternoon. They -were all criminals who had been actually taken in the -French ranks, fighting against their old comrades, at the -storm of Ciudad Rodrigo. The chaplain helplessly read -prayers at them, felt that he could do no more with callous -ruffians who had met the death-sentence with an oath, -and followed them to the execution-place looking very -uncomfortable, quite useless, and much ashamed of -himself.</p> - -<p>It was almost as trying, if not so horrible, to be tackled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">328</span> -by a Calvinist in the throes of conversion, who gave glowing -pictures of hell-fire, and asked for the means of avoiding -it, refusing to take as an answer any dole of chapters from -the New Testament or petitions from the Prayer Book. -Here is a picture of the situation from the point of view of -the penitent, Quartermaster Surtees, whom I have already -had occasion to quote.</p> - -<p>“From the clergyman, though a kind and sympathizing -man, I, alas! derived but little benefit. He did not direct -me to the only source of a sin-sick being’s hopes—the Lamb -of God which taketh away the sins of the world. He tried -to make my hopes centre more on good resolutions, and -after-doings. How thankfully would I have accepted the -true method of salvation pointed out in the gospel; but -already I was but too much (as the natural man always is) -inclined to expect pardon from the acts of penitence which, -if God spared me, I intended to perform. The kind -gentleman wrote me out prayers, and seemed much interested -in my welfare. But reading and praying seemed -more like an irksome task than an exercise which brought -spiritual profit.... Indeed the Scriptures were still at -this time a ‘sealed book’ to me; until the grace of God -has dispelled our darkness there is no light in anything.”<a id="FNanchor_330" href="#Footnote_330" class="fnanchor">330</a></p> - -<p>Clearly the Quartermaster had come upon one of those -sensible and commonplace clergy whom Wellington had -requisitioned from the Chaplain-general’s department, -when he wanted an Evangelist who would have preached -to him Justification by Faith in its simplest form.</p> - -<p>There are a good many humorous anecdotes concerning -the race of Chaplains preserved in the Peninsular diaries, -not for the most part imputing to them any serious moral -failing—though several are accused of having become -“Belemites,”<a id="FNanchor_331" href="#Footnote_331" class="fnanchor">331</a> and of shirking the front—but tending to -prove that they often failed to rise to the occasion in their -difficult calling. This was indeed to be expected when<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">329</span> -most of them had not the least knowledge of military life -and customs, and were wandering about for many months -in a world quite new to them. Clearly only men of experience -should have been sent—but (as Wellington remarks -in one of his letters) the pay offered was so small that only -enthusiasts or very poor men could be expected to take -it—and enthusiasts, for other reasons, the commander-in-chief -did not like. The soldier seems often to have been -struck by the helplessness of the chaplain—he let himself -be robbed by his servants, wandered outside the picquets -and got captured by the French, or was deceived by obvious -hypocrites. There is one ridiculous story of a young -clergyman who, when first brought forward to take a -brigade Sunday service, and placed behind the big-drum, -which was to serve him as a sort of central mark, mistook -its function for that of a pulpit, and endeavoured to mount -upon it, with disastrous results, and to the infinite laughter -of the congregation.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Methodists</div> - -<p>Not unfrequently the chaplains fell out with the -Methodists among their flocks. They had been specially -imported by Wellington in order that they might discourage -the prayer meetings—“getting up little conventicles” as -one of them called these assemblies. “The Church service -is sufficient for the instruction of mankind,” said another, -and “the zeal for preaching” tended to self-sufficiency -and incipient pharisaism. On the whole, however, there -was no regular or normal opposition between Church of -England and Methodist soldiers; they were in such a -minority among the godless that it would have been absurd -for them to have quarrelled. The Methodists regularly -received the sacrament from the chaplains along with the -churchmen, and the latter were frequently to be found -at the prayer meetings of the former.</p> - -<p>Sergeant Stevenson’s memoir, a mine of useful information -in this respect, informs us that the regular organized -prayer meeting of the Wesleyans in the 1st Division was -begun in a gravel-pit just outside the walls of Badajoz, in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">330</span> -September, 1809, and never ceased from that time forward. -During the long sojourn behind the Lines of Torres Vedras -it was held for many weeks in a large wine-press, holding -more than a hundred men, behind the village of Cartaxo, -quite close to Wellington’s headquarters, where indeed -the hymns sung could be clearly heard. There were -similar associations in other divisions, some mainly Church -of England, some (as in the 79th regiment) Presbyterian. -Stevenson says that he never heard of any opposition on -the part of commanding officers, save in the case of one -captain, whose preaching was finally ended by a course of -persecution on the part of his colonel. But of course the -“saints” had to endure a good deal of ridicule from their -comrades, more especially those of them who took occasion -to testify against drunkenness or blasphemy. Stevenson -gives a verse of his own, which he says that he pasted up -in the sergeants’ room of the 3rd Guards, to discourage -profane swearing at large.</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="iq">“It chills the blood to hear the Blest Supreme<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rashly appealed to on each trifling theme,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Maintain your rank: vulgarity despise;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To swear is neither <em>brave</em>, <em>polite</em>, nor <em>wise</em>.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>We may observe a certain canny appeal to the self-respect -of the non-commissioned officer, in the insinuation -that by blasphemy he lowers himself to the ranks, and is -guilty of vulgarity and want of politeness. It is to be -feared that these couplets might have been not inappropriately -hung up in the mess rooms of certain regiments -whose colonels were by no means choice in their language.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Soldier-Parsons</div> - -<p>Among the senior officers of the Peninsular Army -there were a good number who were not merely like -Wellington, conformists of an official sort, but zealous -Christians, such were Hill, Le Marchant,<a id="FNanchor_332" href="#Footnote_332" class="fnanchor">332</a> Colborne, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">331</span> -John Beckwith—the Light Division colonel, who devoted -his later years to taking care of the Waldenses of Piedmont, -among whom he settled down in the evening of his life. -Quite a sprinkling of the younger officers took orders -when the war was over, after the great disbandment of -1816–17, when all the second battalions were disembodied. -Such were three men who have left us excellent Peninsular -diaries, Gleig of the 85th, the author of “The Subaltern,” -and other works, afterwards Chaplain-General to the forces; -Dallas, who made a great name as an evangelist at Burford, -was another soldier-parson; Boothby, who wrote a good -journal concerning Maida, Corunna, and Talavera, was a -third. The type generally ran to strong Evangelicalism, -as was natural, considering that this was the really live -and vigorous element in the Church of that day.</p> - -<p>It is clear that the religious condition of regiments -varied extremely—that in some the influence of serious -and devout officers and men was large, in others practically -invisible. The character of the colonel made some difference -for good or bad, but I imagine that more depended on the -existence or non-existence of some small knot of officers -or sergeants who did not fear to let their views be known, -and formed a nucleus around which steady men gathered. -Their names are mostly forgotten, the record of their -witnessing has perished, or emerges only in some obscure -corner of a little-read biography or an old religious magazine. -I could wish that some sympathetic hand could devote a -whole book to collecting and recording that which I have -only been able to touch upon in this short chapter. It is a -side of the life of the Peninsular Army which well deserves -recording, since without some notice of it the picture of -military society during the great war is wholly incomplete.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">333</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="APPENDIX_I">APPENDIX I.</h2> -</div> - -<h3>(A.) ESTABLISHMENT OF THE BRITISH INFANTRY OF THE LINE. July, 1809.</h3> - -<p class="center">N.B.—The star * affixed to a battalion’s station means that it had just returned from Sir John Moore’s Corunna Campaign.</p> - -<table id="appx1" summary="Establishment of the British Infantry of the Line, July, 1809"> - <tr><th>No. of Regiment.</th><th class="w25">Territorial or other Designation.</th><th>Establishment. Officers and men.</th><th class="w25">Station of 1st Battalion.</th><th class="w35">Station of 2nd and other Battalions [if any].</th></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 1st</td> - <td class="tdl">Royal Scots</td> - <td class="tdc">4926</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd East Indies; 3rd Home* [went to Walcheren]; 4th Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 2nd</td> - <td class="tdl">Queen’s Royal</td> - <td class="tdc"> 906</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 3rd</td> - <td class="tdl">The Buffs</td> - <td class="tdc">1610</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 4th</td> - <td class="tdl">King’s Own</td> - <td class="tdc">2031</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 5th</td> - <td class="tdl">Northumberland Regiment</td> - <td class="tdc">2031</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 6th</td> - <td class="tdl">1st Warwickshire</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 7th</td> - <td class="tdl">Royal Fusiliers</td> - <td class="tdc">2031</td> - <td class="tdl">Nova Scotia</td> - <td class="tdl">Lisbon [later Gibraltar]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 8th</td> - <td class="tdl">The King’s Regiment</td> - <td class="tdc">1610</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Home [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 9th</td> - <td class="tdl">East Norfolk</td> - <td class="tdc">2289</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 10th</td> - <td class="tdl">North Lincoln</td> - <td class="tdc">1610</td> - <td class="tdl">Sicily</td> - <td class="tdl">Home [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 11th</td> - <td class="tdl">North Devon</td> - <td class="tdc">2031</td> - <td class="tdl">Madeira [later Peninsula]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 12th</td> - <td class="tdl">East Suffolk</td> - <td class="tdc"> 941</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">[Raised a 2nd battalion in 1813]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 13th</td> - <td class="tdl">1st Somerset</td> - <td class="tdc">1126</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 14th</td> - <td class="tdl">Bucks Regiment[A]</td> - <td class="tdc">2290</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd Home* [Walcheren]; 3rd Sicily</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 15th</td> - <td class="tdl">East Riding Regiment</td> - <td class="tdc">1400</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 16th</td> - <td class="tdl">Bedfordshire<a id="FNanchor_333" href="#Footnote_333" class="fnanchor">333</a></td> - <td class="tdc"> 406</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 17th</td> - <td class="tdl">Leicestershire</td> - <td class="tdc">1151</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised<span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">334</span></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 18th</td> - <td class="tdl">Royal Irish</td> - <td class="tdc">1669</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 19th</td> - <td class="tdl">1st York, North Riding</td> - <td class="tdc"> 930</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 20th</td> - <td class="tdl">East Devon</td> - <td class="tdc"> 930</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 21st</td> - <td class="tdl">Royal North British Fusiliers</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Sicily</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 22nd</td> - <td class="tdl">Cheshire</td> - <td class="tdc"> 941</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">[Raised a 2nd battalion in 1814]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 23rd</td> - <td class="tdl">Royal Welsh Fusiliers</td> - <td class="tdc">2079</td> - <td class="tdl">Nova Scotia</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 24th</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd Warwickshire</td> - <td class="tdc">2031</td> - <td class="tdl">Cape of Good Hope</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 25th</td> - <td class="tdl">King’s Own Borderers</td> - <td class="tdc">1400</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 26th</td> - <td class="tdl">Cameronians</td> - <td class="tdc">1610</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 27th</td> - <td class="tdl">Inniskillings</td> - <td class="tdc">3448</td> - <td class="tdl">Sicily</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd Battalion Sicily; 3rd battalion Garrison of Lisbon</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 28th</td> - <td class="tdl">North Gloucestershire</td> - <td class="tdc">2031</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 29th</td> - <td class="tdl">Worcestershire</td> - <td class="tdc">1126</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 30th</td> - <td class="tdl">Cambridgeshire</td> - <td class="tdc">2242</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Gibraltar [late Lisbon]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 31st</td> - <td class="tdl">Huntingdonshire</td> - <td class="tdc">2079</td> - <td class="tdl">Malta</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 32nd</td> - <td class="tdl">Cornwall</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 33rd</td> - <td class="tdl">1st West Riding</td> - <td class="tdc"> 941</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 34th</td> - <td class="tdl">Cumberland</td> - <td class="tdc">1845</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Home [later to Peninsula]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 35th</td> - <td class="tdl">Sussex</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Sicily</td> - <td class="tdl">Home [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 36th</td> - <td class="tdl">Herefordshire</td> - <td class="tdc">1610</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 37th</td> - <td class="tdl">North Hants</td> - <td class="tdc"> 706</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">[Raised a 2nd battalion in 1811]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 38th</td> - <td class="tdl">1st Stafford</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 39th</td> - <td class="tdl">Dorsetshire</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Malta</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 40th</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd Somerset</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 41st</td> - <td class="tdl">None</td> - <td class="tdc"> 696</td> - <td class="tdl">Canada</td> - <td class="tdl">[Raised a 2nd battalion 1814]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 42nd</td> - <td class="tdl">Black Watch</td> - <td class="tdc">2031</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 43rd</td> - <td class="tdl">Monmouth</td> - <td class="tdc">2031</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army*</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">335</span></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 44th</td> - <td class="tdl">1st Essex</td> - <td class="tdc">2030</td> - <td class="tdl">Sicily</td> - <td class="tdl">Gibraltar</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 45th</td> - <td class="tdl">Nottinghamshire</td> - <td class="tdc">1610</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 46th</td> - <td class="tdl">South Devon</td> - <td class="tdc"> 496</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 47th</td> - <td class="tdl">Lancashire</td> - <td class="tdc">2242</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Home [later Cadiz]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 48th</td> - <td class="tdl">Northamptonshire</td> - <td class="tdc">2251</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 49th</td> - <td class="tdl">Hertfordshire</td> - <td class="tdc"> 906</td> - <td class="tdl">Canada</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 50th</td> - <td class="tdl">West Kent</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 51st</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd West Riding</td> - <td class="tdc"> 906</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 52nd</td> - <td class="tdl">Oxfordshire</td> - <td class="tdc">2079</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army*</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 53rd</td> - <td class="tdl">Shropshire</td> - <td class="tdc">2242</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 54th</td> - <td class="tdl">West Norfolk</td> - <td class="tdc"> 706</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 55th</td> - <td class="tdl">Westmoreland</td> - <td class="tdc"> 706</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 56th</td> - <td class="tdl">West Essex</td> - <td class="tdc">2301</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd battalion East Indies [raised a 3rd battalion 1813]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 57th</td> - <td class="tdl">West Middlesex</td> - <td class="tdc">1610</td> - <td class="tdl">Gibraltar [later Portugal]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 58th</td> - <td class="tdl">Rutland</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Sicily</td> - <td class="tdl">Garrison of Lisbon</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 59th</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd Nottinghamshire</td> - <td class="tdc">1290</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 60th</td> - <td class="tdl">Royal Americans</td> - <td class="tdc">4847</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd battalion West Indies; 3rd battalion ditto; 4th battalion ditto; 5th battalion Peninsular Field Army; 6th and 7th West Indies</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 61st</td> - <td class="tdl">South Gloucestershire</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 62nd</td> - <td class="tdl">Wiltshire</td> - <td class="tdc">1610</td> - <td class="tdl">Sicily</td> - <td class="tdl">Sicily</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 63rd</td> - <td class="tdl">West Suffolk</td> - <td class="tdc">1610</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Home [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 64th</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd Staffordshire</td> - <td class="tdc"> 916</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 65th</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd Yorks, North Riding</td> - <td class="tdc"> 731</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised<span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">336</span></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 66th</td> - <td class="tdl">Berkshire</td> - <td class="tdc">2031</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 67th</td> - <td class="tdl">South Hants</td> - <td class="tdc">2031</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 68th</td> - <td class="tdl">Durham</td> - <td class="tdc"> 716</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 69th</td> - <td class="tdl">South Lincolnshire</td> - <td class="tdc">1337</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 70th</td> - <td class="tdl">Surrey Regiment</td> - <td class="tdc"> 706</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 71st</td> - <td class="tdl">Glasgow Highlanders</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 72nd</td> - <td class="tdl">Highlanders</td> - <td class="tdc">1600</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 73rd</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd Royal Highlanders</td> - <td class="tdc">1180</td> - <td class="tdl">Sailing to N.S. Wales</td> - <td class="tdl">Home [only formed in 1809]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 74th</td> - <td class="tdl">Highlanders</td> - <td class="tdc"> 696</td> - <td class="tdl">Home [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 75th</td> - <td class="tdl">Highlanders</td> - <td class="tdc"> 696</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 76th</td> - <td class="tdl">Hindostan Regiment</td> - <td class="tdc">1126</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 77th</td> - <td class="tdl">East Middlesex</td> - <td class="tdc"> 696</td> - <td class="tdl">Home [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 78th</td> - <td class="tdl">Rosshire Buffs</td> - <td class="tdc">1885</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Sicily [later Home]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 79th</td> - <td class="tdl">Cameron Highlanders</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 80th</td> - <td class="tdl">Staffordshire Volunteers</td> - <td class="tdc">1151</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 81st</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd Loyal Lincoln</td> - <td class="tdc">2079</td> - <td class="tdl">Sicily</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 82nd</td> - <td class="tdl">Prince of Wales’ Volunteers</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 83rd</td> - <td class="tdl">None</td> - <td class="tdc">2461</td> - <td class="tdl">Cape of Good Hope</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 84th</td> - <td class="tdl">York and Lancaster</td> - <td class="tdc">2276</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Home [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 85th</td> - <td class="tdl">Bucks Volunteers</td> - <td class="tdc"> 716</td> - <td class="tdl">Home [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 86th</td> - <td class="tdl">Leinster Regiment</td> - <td class="tdc"> 731</td> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">[Raised a 2nd battalion 1814]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 87th</td> - <td class="tdl">Prince of Wales’ Irish Fusiliers</td> - <td class="tdc">2299</td> - <td class="tdl">Cape of Good Hope</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 88th</td> - <td class="tdl">Connaught Rangers</td> - <td class="tdc">2031</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td> - <td class="tdl">Lisbon [later Gibraltar]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 89th</td> - <td class="tdl">None</td> - <td class="tdc">2031</td> - <td class="tdl">Cape of Good Hope</td> - <td class="tdl">Gibraltar</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 90th</td> - <td class="tdl">Perthshire Volunteers</td> - <td class="tdc">1610</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 91st</td> - <td class="tdl">Highlanders</td> - <td class="tdc">1390</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 92nd</td> - <td class="tdl">Gordon Highlanders</td> - <td class="tdc">1820</td> - <td class="tdl">Home* [went to Walcheren]</td> - <td class="tdl">Home<span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">337</span></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 93rd</td> - <td class="tdl">Sutherland Highlanders</td> - <td class="tdc">1126</td> - <td class="tdl">Cape of Good Hope</td> - <td class="tdl">[Raised a second battalion 1814]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 94th</td> - <td class="tdl">Scotch Brigade</td> - <td class="tdc"> 696</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 95th</td> - <td class="tdl">Rifles</td> - <td class="tdc">2283</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army*</td> - <td class="tdl">2nd Home* [went to Walcheren] 3rd Home [only just raised]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 96th</td> - <td class="tdl">None</td> - <td class="tdc">1400</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 97th</td> - <td class="tdl">Queen’s Germans</td> - <td class="tdc"> 907</td> - <td class="tdl">Peninsular Field Army</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 98th</td> - <td class="tdl">None</td> - <td class="tdc"> 906</td> - <td class="tdl">Bermuda</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc"> 99th</td> - <td class="tdl">Prince of Wales’ Tipperary</td> - <td class="tdc"> 696</td> - <td class="tdl">Bermuda</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc">100th</td> - <td class="tdl">County of Dublin</td> - <td class="tdc"> 696</td> - <td class="tdl">Canada</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc">101st</td> - <td class="tdl">Duke of York’s Irish</td> - <td class="tdc"> 906</td> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc">102nd</td> - <td class="tdl">New South Wales</td> - <td class="tdc"> 906</td> - <td class="tdl">New South Wales</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> - <tr class="bot"> - <td class="tdc">103rd</td> - <td class="tdl">None</td> - <td class="tdc"> 486</td> - <td class="tdl">Canada</td> - <td class="tdl">No 2nd battalion raised</td></tr> -</table> - -<table class="p2 b1" summary="Totals"> - <tr class="bt"><th>Total.</th><th>1st Battalions.</th><th>2nd Battalions.</th><th>3rd and Junior <br />Battalions.</th><th>Total.</th></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">At Home</td> - <td class="tdc">25<a id="FNanchor_334" href="#Footnote_334" class="fnanchor">334</a></td> - <td class="tdc">42<a id="FNanchor_335" href="#Footnote_335" class="fnanchor">335</a></td> - <td class="tdc">3<a id="FNanchor_336" href="#Footnote_336" class="fnanchor">336</a></td> - <td class="tdc">70</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Peninsula</td> - <td class="tdc">11<a id="FNanchor_337" href="#Footnote_337" class="fnanchor">337</a></td> - <td class="tdc">15 </td> - <td class="tdc">2 </td> - <td class="tdc">28</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Sicily and Malta</td> - <td class="tdc">10 </td> - <td class="tdc">3 </td> - <td class="tdc">1 </td> - <td class="tdc">14</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">East Indies</td> - <td class="tdc">21 </td> - <td class="tdc">2 </td> - <td class="tdc">0 </td> - <td class="tdc">23</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">West Indies</td> - <td class="tdc">21 </td> - <td class="tdc">2 </td> - <td class="tdc">4 </td> - <td class="tdc">27</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Cape of Good Hope</td> - <td class="tdc">5 </td> - <td class="tdc">0 </td> - <td class="tdc">0 </td> - <td class="tdc"> 5</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Canada and Nova Scotia</td> - <td class="tdc">6 </td> - <td class="tdc">0 </td> - <td class="tdc">0 </td> - <td class="tdc"> 6</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">New South Wales</td> - <td class="tdc">2 </td> - <td class="tdc">0 </td> - <td class="tdc">0 </td> - <td class="tdc"> 2</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Gibraltar and Madeira</td> - <td class="tdc">2 </td> - <td class="tdc">2 </td> - <td class="tdc">0 </td> - <td class="tdc"> 4</td></tr> - <tr class="bb"> - <td class="tdl in4">Total</td> - <td class="tdc">0 </td> - <td class="tdc">0 </td> - <td class="tdc">0 </td> - <td class="tdc">179 </td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">338</span> -A consideration of the prefixed table of “establishments” shows -the following results. Putting aside the regiments with many -battalions (the 1st, 14th, 27th, 60th, 95th), the remainder fall into -two-battalion and single-battalion corps.</p> - -<p>Of the 61 double-battalion <span class="locked">regiments—</span></p> - -<p class="in0 in4 p1 b1"> - 9 were at a strength of 2250 or thereabouts.<a id="FNanchor_338" href="#Footnote_338" class="fnanchor">338</a><br /> -17 were at a strength of 2031 or thereabouts.<a id="FNanchor_339" href="#Footnote_339" class="fnanchor">339</a><br /> -16 were at a strength of 1820 or thereabouts.<a id="FNanchor_340" href="#Footnote_340" class="fnanchor">340</a><br /> -12 were at a strength of 1610 or thereabouts.<a id="FNanchor_341" href="#Footnote_341" class="fnanchor">341</a><br /> - 7 were at a strength of under 1600.<a id="FNanchor_342" href="#Footnote_342" class="fnanchor">342</a> -</p> - -<p>All the regiments on the two higher establishments (with one -exception) had both battalions on active service in 1809, either -one in the Indies and one in Europe, or both in Europe. Hence -it was necessary to keep them at a very high figure.</p> - -<p>Those with 1820 or 1610 men were nearly all regiments which -had one battalion on active service and one on home service, though -a very few had both overseas (such as the 18th, 34th, 39th, 62nd); -in such cases the 2nd battalion, though on service, was very weak.</p> - -<p>The two-battalion corps with under 1600 men were almost -invariably regiments which had one battalion in the Indies, worked -down to very low numbers by disease, and had failed to keep up -its strength (the 15th, 25th, 96th in the West, the 59th, 69th in the -East Indies).</p> - -<p>The 37 single-battalion regiments stood on the following -<span class="locked">establishments—</span></p> - -<p class="in0 in4 p1 b1"> - 6 were at a strength of 1126 or thereabouts.<a id="FNanchor_343" href="#Footnote_343" class="fnanchor">343</a><br /> -13 were at a strength of 940 or thereabouts.<a id="FNanchor_344" href="#Footnote_344" class="fnanchor">344</a><br /> -15 were at a strength of 700–730 or thereabouts.<a id="FNanchor_345" href="#Footnote_345" class="fnanchor">345</a><br /> - 3 were at a strength of under 600.<a id="FNanchor_346" href="#Footnote_346" class="fnanchor">346</a> -</p> - -<p>Those corps on the two higher establishments are either actually<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">339</span> -serving, or are designated for immediate service abroad, and have -therefore their establishments fixed high. Those on the lower -establishments (730 or under) fall into two classes: either they -are regiments in the East or West Indies which have died down to -a low figure [<i>e.g.</i> 16th, 37th, 46th, 54th, 55th, 65th, 68th, 70th, -86th] or they are battalions quartered in peaceful stations and not -expected to be sent on active service, [<i>e.g.</i> 41st, 99th, 100th, 103rd, -in Canada and Bermuda] or at home [74th, 75th, 77th, 85th, 94th]. -All the last-named five, on home service, were raised to a higher -establishment and sent to the front in 1810–12.</p> - -<p>It will be noted that of the one hundred and three 1st battalions, -or single-battalion regiments, a great many were not available, viz. -twenty-one in the East Indies, twenty-one in the West Indies -(including Bermuda), eleven in the Mediterranean Garrisons, five -at the Cape of Good Hope, six in Canada, two in (or bound -for) New South Wales. There were only twenty-five 1st battalions -at home, and of these twenty had served under Moore in the -Corunna retreat and then went on the Walcheren expedition, so that -in 1809 they were unavailable. Three more battalions which had -not served under Moore had shared in the same descent on the -Scheldt (74th, 77th, 85th). There were actually only two single-battalion -corps which had neither gone to Corunna nor to Walcheren -and were available at home (75th and 94th).<a id="FNanchor_347" href="#Footnote_347" class="fnanchor">347</a> In the way of the -strongly organized first battalions, therefore, there was absolutely -nil to send to Wellington in 1809 save Craufurd’s three Light -Infantry battalions, which though they had been with Moore in -January were back in the Peninsula by July (1/43rd, 1/52nd, -1/95th).</p> - -<p>It is easy to see, therefore, that there was the greatest possible -difficulty in finding battalions with which Wellesley’s Peninsular -Army could be reinforced. Of troops which had not gone to Walcheren -there were left in Great Britain only the 75th and 94th, -with twenty-eight 2nd (or junior) battalions which had not joined in -the expedition to the Scheldt. These were almost without exception -very weak units, the first battalions of ten of these were in the -Indies, then of five more already in the Peninsula, all their strength -was used up in keeping their senior battalions full, of the remaining -thirteen only two (2/5th 2/34th, 2/38th), were strong enough to -be sent to Portugal. The reinforcements which Wellington was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">340</span> -given in the autumn of 1809 and the summer of 1810 were largely -scraped up from foreign garrisons—the 1/7th from Nova Scotia, -the 1/11th from Madeira, the 1/57th from Gibraltar. But in 1810 -Walcheren battalions began to come out, such as the 3/1st, 1/9th, -1/50th, 1/71st, 1/79th, and to load Wellington’s hospitals with ague-stricken -convalescents. For later reinforcements see Chapter VII.</p> - -<h3>ESTABLISHMENT OF CAVALRY IN 1809.</h3> - -<table id="table340" summary="Establishment of Cavalry in 1809"> - <tr class="bt"> - <td class="tdl">1st Dragoon Guards</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">2nd Dragoon Guards</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">3rd Dragoon Guards</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">4th Dragoon Guards</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">5th Dragoon Guards</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">6th Dragoon Guards</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">7th Dragoon Guards</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">1st Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 1083 </td> - <td class="tdl"> Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">2nd Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">3rd Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">4th Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">6th Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">7th Hussars</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> *Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">8th Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 720</td> - <td class="tdl"> East Indies</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">9th Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">10th Hussars</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> *Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">11th Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">12th Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">13th Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">14th Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">15th Hussars</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> *Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">16th Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">17th Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 940</td> - <td class="tdl"> East Indies</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">18th Hussars</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> *Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">19th Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">20th Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> 1/2 Sicily and 1/2 Peninsula</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">21st Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Cape of Good Hope</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">22nd Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 928</td> - <td class="tdl"> East Indies</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">23rd Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 905</td> - <td class="tdl"> Peninsular Field Army</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">24th Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 928</td> - <td class="tdl"> East Indies</td></tr> - <tr class="bb"> - <td class="tdl">25th Light Dragoons</td> - <td class="tdc"> 940</td> - <td class="tdl"> East Indies</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>N.B.—Note that there was no 5th regiment of Dragoons in 1809. The corps last -bearing that number had been disbanded in 1799, and its successor was not -raised till 1858.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">341</span></p> - -<h3>ESTABLISHMENT OF THE HOUSEHOLD TROOPS IN 1809.</h3> - -<table id="table341" summary="Establishment of the household troops in 1809."> - <tr class="bt"> - <td class="tdl">1st Life Guards</td> - <td class="tdc"> 416</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">2nd Life Guards</td> - <td class="tdc"> 416</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Royal Horse Guards</td> - <td class="tdc"> 654</td> - <td class="tdl">Home</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">1st Foot Guards (3 batts.)</td> - <td class="tdc">4619</td> - <td class="tdl">1st Batt.* Home [went to Walcheren]; <br />2nd Batt. Home; <br />3rd Batt.* Home [went to Walcheren]</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">2nd (Coldstream) Foot Guards (2 batts.)</td> - <td class="tdc">2887</td> - <td class="tdl">1st Batt. Peninsular Field Army; 2nd Batt. Home</td></tr> - <tr class="bb"> - <td class="tdl">3rd Foot Guards (2 batts.)</td> - <td class="tdc">2887</td> - <td class="tdl">1st Batt. Peninsular Field Army; 2nd Batt. Home</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>N.B.—The Second Batts. Coldstream and 3rd Foot Guards both sent their -flank companies to Walcheren. The troops sent to Cadiz early in 1810 were -detachments, viz. 4 companies of the 2/1st Guards, 3 of the 2/2nd, 3 of the 2/3rd.</p> - -<h3>MISCELLANEOUS CORPS.</h3> - -<p>In addition to the regular units shown in these lists, there are on -the estimates of 1809 twelve veteran battalions, with effectives -ranging from 693 to 1129, and eight garrison battalions, mostly with -an establishment of 906. Most of these were at home, but a few in -the Mediterranean garrisons.</p> - -<p>There were also the foreign corps of Meuron, de Roll, Watteville, -Dillon, <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Chasseurs Britanniques</i>, Royal Malta, Royal Corsicans and -the Sicilian regiment, all in the Mediterranean, with the York Light -Infantry, York Rangers, and Royal West India Rangers in the -West Indies. These were all single battalion corps ranging from -1361 men (de Roll) to 694 (York L. I.). The black regiments, eight -West India battalions with 1125 men each, could only be used in -their own regions.</p> - -<p>Of the King’s German Legion there were at home the two Heavy -Dragoon Regiments with an establishment of 694 each, and the 2nd -and 3rd Hussars, with the same numbers. The 3rd Hussars were -just back from the Corunna Retreat: the 2nd went to Walcheren. -Of the ten infantry battalions, four (1st, 2nd, 5th, 7th Line) were -with the Peninsular Field Army, as was the 1st Hussars; four (3rd, -4th, 6th, 8th Line) were in Sicily; 1st and 2nd Light battalions (just -back from Corunna) were at home, and went to Walcheren. Four -battalions had establishments of 1062, six of 902, of all ranks.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_343">343</span></p> - -<div id="apx2" class="chapter"> -<h2 id="APPENDIX_II" class="vspace">APPENDIX II<br /> - -<span class="subhead">DIVISIONAL AND BRIGADE ORGANIZATION AND -CHANGES.<br /> - -<span class="subhead">1809–1814.</span></span></h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By C. T. Atkinson, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Exeter College, -Oxford.</span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Changes in 1809</div> - -<h3>1809.</h3> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hang0">On April 22, when Wellesley arrived the troops were brigaded as -<span class="locked">follows:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang2">Cavalry. G.O.C., Cotton. 14th Light Dragoons, 16th Light -Dragoons, 2 squadrons 20th Light Dragoons, detachment -3rd Hussars K.G.L.: Fane’s brigade (not at the Douro), 3rd -Dragoon Guards, 4th Dragoons.</p> - -<p class="hang2">Guards’ Brigade (H. Campbell). 1st Coldstream, 1st 3rd -Guards (<i>i.e.</i> Scots), 1 co. 5/60th.</p> - -<p class="hang2">1st Brigade (Hill). 1/3rd, 2/48th, 2/66th, 1 co. 5/60th.</p> - -<p class="hang2">2nd Brigade (Mackenzie). 2/24th (attached), 3/27th, 2/31st, -1/45th.</p> - -<p class="hang2">3rd Brigade (Tilson). Headquarters and 5 cos. 5/60th, 2/87th, -1/88th.</p> - -<p class="hang2">4th Brigade (Sontag). 97th, 2nd Detachments, 1 co. 5/60th.</p> - -<p class="hang2">5th Brigade (A. Campbell). 2/7th, 2/53rd, 1 co. 5/60th.</p> - -<p class="hang2">6th Brigade (R. Stewart). 29th, 1st Detachments.</p> - -<p class="hang2">7th Brigade (Cameron). 2/9th, 2/83rd, 1 co. 5/60th.</p> - -<p class="hang2">K.G.L. (Murray, Langwerth and Drieberg). 1st, 2nd, 5th, and -7th Line K.G.L., detachment Light Battalions K.G.L.</p> - -<p class="hang2">The 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th Brigades each included a Portuguese -battalion.</p> - -<p class="hang2">[N.B.—The “Battalions of Detachments” were composed of -convalescents and stragglers, left behind from the regiments<span class="pagenum" id="Page_344">344</span> -which had marched from Portugal under Sir John Moore in -the preceding autumn.]</p> - -<p class="hang0">The organization in divisions dates from June 18. It was originally -as <span class="locked">follows:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> G.O.C., Payne. A [Fane], 3rd Dragoon Guards, 4th -Dragoons; B [Cotton], 14th and 16th Light Dragoons; -Unattached, 2 squadrons 20th Light Dragoons, 23rd Light -Dragoons, 1st Hussars K.G.L., detachment 3rd Hussars -K.G.L.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>1st Division.</i> G.O.C., Sherbrooke. A [H. Campbell], 1st -Coldstream, 1st Scots; B [Cameron], 2/9th, 2/83rd; -C [Langwerth], 1st and 2nd Line K.G.L., detachment Light -Battalions K.G.L.; D [Löw], 5th and 7th Line K.G.L.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>2nd Division.</i> G.O.C., Hill. A [Hill], 1/3rd, 2/48th, 3/66th; -B [R. Stewart], 29th, 1st Detachments.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>3rd Division.</i> G.O.C., Mackenzie. A [Mackenzie] 3/27th, 2/31st, -1/45th; B [Tilson], 5 companies 5/60th, 2/87th, 1/88th.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>4th Division.</i> G.O.C., A. Campbell. A [A. Campbell], 2/7th, -2/53rd; B [Sontag], 97th, 2nd Detachments.</p> - -<p class="hang2">The detached companies of 5/60th at Talavera were with -I A, I B, II A, IV A, IV B.</p> - -<p class="hang0">Subsequent changes were as <span class="locked">follows:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> 20th Light Dragoons and detachment 3rd Hussars -K.G.L., left the Peninsula before the end of July.</p> - -<p>By June 21 a new brigade, C, was added, under G. Anson, -composed of 23rd Light Dragoons and 1st Hussars K.G.L.</p> - -<p>On November 1 Granby Calcroft was commanding A for -Fane, absent.</p> - -<p>By November 24 1st Dragoons (who arrived at Lisbon -in October) replaced the 16th Light Dragoons in B, now -under Slade, as Cotton was assisting Payne in command of -the division; 16th Light Dragoons were transferred to -C <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice</i> 23rd Light Dragoons, ordered home after their -losses at Talavera.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>1st Division.</i> 1/40th, from Seville, replaced 2/9th before June 21, -2/9th going to Gibraltar and relieving 1/61st, who joined -before Talavera, on which 1/40th were transferred to IV B.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">345</span> -After Talavera 2/24th and 2/42nd were added to I B, -2/83rd being sent down to Lisbon.</p> - -<p>At Talavera, H. Campbell was wounded, Stopford replacing -him in command of the division and brigade, but -from November 8 to December 15, Hulse had the brigade. -Langwerth having been killed at Talavera, Beck of 1st -Line K.G.L. succeeded to his brigade, but the two K.G.L. -brigades were amalgamated under Löw from November 1.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>2nd Division.</i> By June 21 Tilson (from III B) had taken over -Hill’s own brigade. Before Talavera 1/48th (arrived at -Lisbon June 22, on being relieved at Gibraltar by 2/30th) -had been added to II B.</p> - -<p>In September, a new brigade, C, under Catlin Craufurd, -was added, composed of 2/28th, 2/34th, 2/39th, and about -the same time 2/31st (from III A) was added to II A. By -November 1, 1/57th (from Gibraltar) replaced 1st Detachments -in II B, the Battalions of Detachments having been -broken up.</p> - -<p>From December 15 on II A was under command of -Duckworth of 2/48th.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>3rd Division.</i> Tilson, moving to II A, was replaced by Donkin -(June 21).</p> - -<p>Before Talavera 2/24th replaced 3/27th (sent down to -Lisbon) in III A.</p> - -<p>Mackenzie was killed at Talavera, and the division passed -under the command of R. Craufurd, whose brigade, 1/43rd, -1/52nd and 1/95th, arrived just too late for the battle, and -was apparently added to the division in place of Mackenzie’s -brigade which was amalgamated with Donkin’s. On -September 15, 2/87th was ordered down to Lisbon for -garrison duty, 2/24th being transferred to II B and 2/31st -to II A about the same time.</p> - -<p>In October, Donkin gave up his brigade, Mackinnon -obtaining command.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>4th Division.</i> Myers of 2/7th seems to have commanded IV A -for A. Campbell.</p> - -<p>By Talavera 1/40th had been added to IV B, of which -Kemmis had taken command vice Sontag.</p> - -<p>At Talavera A. Campbell was wounded, and had to go<span class="pagenum" id="Page_346">346</span> -home, the division being without a definite G.O.C. till the -arrival of Lowry Cole in October.</p> - -<p>In September 1/11th (arrived at Lisbon from Madeira in -August) was added to IV A. On the Battalions of Detachments -being sent home (October), 3/27th, in garrison at -Lisbon since after the Douro, replaced the 2nd Battalion in -IV B.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="sidenote">Changes in 1810</div> - -<h3>1810.</h3> - -<blockquote> -<p class="hang0">On January 1, the composition of the Army was as <span class="locked">follows:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> G.O.C., Payne; Cotton, second in command.</p> - -<p>A [Fane], 3rd Dragoon Guards, 4th Dragoons; B [Slade], -1st Dragoons, 14th Light Dragoons; C [G. Anson], 16th -Light Dragoons, 1st Hussars K.G.L.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>1st Division.</i> G.O.C., Sherbrooke. A [Stopford], 1st Coldstreams, -1st Scots; B [A. Cameron], 2/24th, 2/42nd, 1/61st; C -[Löw], 1st, 2nd, 5th, and 7th Line, K.G.L., detachment -Light Battalions, K.G.L.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>2nd Division.</i> G.O.C., Hill. A [Duckworth, temporarily], -1/3rd, 2/31st, 2/48th, 2/66th; B [R. Stewart], 29th, 1/48th, -1/57th; C [C. Craufurd], 2/28th, 2/34th, 2/39th.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>3rd Division.</i> G.O.C., R. Craufurd. A [R. Craufurd], 1/43rd, -1/52nd, 1/95th; B [Mackinnon], 1/45th, 5/60th, 1/88th.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>4th Division.</i> G.O.C., Cole. A [Myers acting for Cole], 2/7th, -1/11th, 2/53rd; B [Kemmis] 3/27th, 1/40th, 97th; C -[Lightburne], 2/5th, 2/58th.<a id="FNanchor_348" href="#Footnote_348" class="fnanchor">348</a></p> - -<p class="hang0">Subsequent changes <span class="locked">were:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> Payne went home before June 1, Cotton obtaining -sole command from June 3.</p> - -<p>On April 1 the 13th Light Dragoons arrived at Lisbon, -joining the army in May, and being attached to Hill’s -division, along with four regiments of Portuguese cavalry, -the whole under Fane, who gave over his brigade to de Grey -from May 13. Two troops of the regiment went to Cadiz, -but rejoined the regiment in September.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_347">347</span> -Before the end of the year Fane seems to have gone -home ill.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>1st Division.</i> On April 26 Cotton was posted to the command -of the division, <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice</i> Sherbrooke, gone home ill, but gave -place to Spencer, June 3, on getting the Cavalry Division.</p> - -<p>In the “States” of March 8 to August 1, no brigadier -is given for I B. On August 4 Lord Blantyre (of 2/42nd) -was appointed to command I B “during the absence of -Brigadier-General Cameron.” Cameron was back in command -from October 1, but on November 26 he was invalided -home, Blantyre probably commanding again.</p> - -<p>By the Orders of September 12, 1/79th (just arrived from -Cadiz), was posted to I B <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice</i> 1/61st, to be transferred to -a new brigade to form part of the 1st Division. These orders -were suspended from September 14, and at Bussaco 1/7th -(arrived from Halifax before end of July), and 1/79th formed -a brigade (I D) under Pakenham.</p> - -<p>On October 6, orders were given for the transfer of -Pakenham’s brigade to the 4th Division, the exchange -between the 1/61st and 1/79th having been carried out -previously, and a new brigade was added under Erskine, -comprising 1/50th (arrived September 24), 1/71st (arrived -September 26), 1/92nd (arrived in October, before the 6th), -and 1 company 3/95th.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>2nd Division.</i> On June 20 Leith was appointed to command -“Tilson’s brigade,” and to command the division “under -Hill,” but in the “State” of July 8 his name appears as commanding -the brigade composed of 3/1st, 1/9th, and 2/38th. -On August 8 orders were issued to W. Stewart to take -command of Tilson’s brigade and of the division under Hill. -In November Hill went on sick leave.</p> - -<p>Leith’s name ceases to appear in the returns as commanding -II A from July 8, and W. Stewart’s name appears -in his place from July 27. When Stewart commanded -the division, Colborne of 2/66th had the brigade. C. Craufurd -died in September, and at Bussaco Wilson of 2/39th commanded -II C. On September 30 Lumley was posted to -command it.</p> - -<p>Before September 1 R. Stewart had gone home ill, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_348">348</span> -at Bussaco Inglis (of 1/57th) commanded II B. On October -8 Hoghton was posted to it.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>3rd Division.</i> From January 8 on 5/60th no longer appear in -the Returns as belonging to the division, and their place in the -brigade was taken by 74th, who arrived at Lisbon February 8, -and are mentioned in Orders on February 22 as in III B.</p> - -<p>On February 22 the division was reorganized, R. -Craufurd’s brigade becoming, with two battalions of Caçadores, -the Light Division. Mackinnon’s brigade now became -III A, and Lightburne’s brigade was transferred from the -4th Division and became III B. The headquarters -and three companies 5/60th were posted to Lightburne’s -brigade, the remaining companies having been posted to -I A, I B, II A, II B, II C, IV A, IV B. At the same -time a Portuguese brigade composed of the 9th and 21st -Regiments (under Harvey) was added to the division.</p> - -<p>At Bussaco Champlemond was in command of the Portuguese -brigade, by October 29 Sutton had it, Champlemond -being wounded at Bussaco.</p> - -<p>On September 12 2/83rd was posted to III B, 2/88th -having arrived from Cadiz to relieve them September 4. -Hurrying to the front they joined their brigade before Bussaco. -When they did join, 2/58th was detached from III B for -garrison duty at Lisbon. 94th (arrived from Cadiz September -20), were added to III B on October 6, and on October 10 -Colville was posted to command the brigade <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice</i> Lightburne, -who went home.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>4th Division.</i> On the transfer of Lightburne’s brigade to the -3rd Division the other two brigades exchanged places, -Kemmis’ becoming IV A, and being Cole’s brigade, but -under the immediate command of Kemmis. A. Campbell, -who had rejoined, took command of his old brigade.</p> - -<p>The 3rd and 15th Portuguese were added to the division -in February, as a brigade under Collins.</p> - -<p>At Bussaco the Portuguese brigade consisted of the 11th -and 23rd, the 3rd and 15th having been removed to the -5th Division.</p> - -<p>On October 6 A. Campbell’s brigade was removed from -the division to become the nucleus of the newly-formed -6th Division, its place being taken by Pakenham’s from the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_349">349</span> -1st Division, <i>i.e.</i> 1/7th, 1/61st, to which the Brunswick -Oels Light Infantry (arrived Lisbon September 17) were -added.</p> - -<p>On November 12 the Brunswick Oels were removed to -the Light Division, but one company was posted to IV B, -two more being detached to provide the newly-formed 5th -Division, with extra light troops. Their place in IV B -was taken by the newly arrived 1/23rd from Halifax, Nova -Scotia.</p> - -<p>On November 17 2/7th and 1/61st were ordered to -exchange, IV B thus becoming the Fusilier Brigade.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Light Division.</i> Formed on February 22 by the removal of -R. Craufurd’s brigade from the 3rd Division, the 1st and -3rd Portuguese Caçadores being added to it. On August 4 -it was broken up into two brigades, as follows: A [Beckwith -of 1/95th] 1/43rd, 4 companies 1/95th, 1st Caçadores; B -[Barclay of 1/52nd] 1/52nd, 4 companies 1/95th, 3rd Caçadores. -Barclay having been wounded at Bussaco, Wynch -of 1/4th got the brigade (in Orders of November 14th).</p> - -<p>A company of 2/95th (from Cadiz) was added to A before -October 1. On November 12 nine companies Brunswick Oels -joined B.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>5th Division.</i> Officially this division first appears in the “State” -of August 8, when the 3/1st, 1/9th, and 2/38th,<a id="FNanchor_349" href="#Footnote_349" class="fnanchor">349</a> are first -called the “Fifth Division,” a Portuguese brigade, Spry’s -(<i>i.e.</i> 3rd and 15th Line), being added, and Leith being -G.O.C.</p> - -<p>On August 4 J. S. Barns of 3/1st was appointed to -command the British brigade, being superseded by Hay -September 30.</p> - -<p>On October 6 orders were issued that Leith should command -the 5th Division, and that it should be composed -of Brigadier-General Hay’s brigade, a brigade made up of -1/4th (from England, they first appear in the “State” of -November 15), 2/30th (from Cadiz), and 2/44th (from Cadiz), -and Spry’s Portuguese.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_350">350</span> -On November 5 Dunlop was posted to V B, hitherto -under its senior battalion commander.</p> - -<p>On November 12 a company of the Brunswick Oels was -posted to each of the British brigades.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>6th Division.</i> Ordered to be formed October 6, by taking A. -Campbell’s brigade out of the 4th Division and adding -Eben’s Portuguese (<i>i.e.</i> 8th Line and Lusitanian Legion) -to it: A. Campbell being G.O.C.</p> - -<p>On November 14, Hulse was posted to A. Campbell’s -brigade.</p> - -<p>On November 17 1/61st from IV B exchanged with 2/7th.</p> - -<p>In addition to the Portuguese brigades attached to the -3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th Divisions there were at least five -others, two of which, the 4th under Archibald Campbell -(=4th and 10th Line), and 2nd under Fonseca (=2nd and 14th -Line) formed a division under Hamilton, which acted throughout -under Hill. Wellington says that he intended to organize -this division like the rest, but the heavy losses at Albuera -and the consequent necessity of reforming the 2nd Division -made it impossible for him to carry out his resolve. [Cf. -<cite>Wellington Dispatches</cite>, viii. 111.]</p> - -<p>The remaining brigades were the 1st (Pack’s), consisting -of the 1st and 16th Line and 4th Caçadores, the 5th (A. -Campbell’s), 6th and 18th Line, and 6th Caçadores; the 6th -(Coleman’s), 7th and 19th Line and 2nd Caçadores. On -the formation of the 7th Division in March, 1811, Coleman’s -brigade was posted to it, the other two remaining unattached.</p> - -<p>The 12th and 13th Line and 5th Caçadores seem to have -formed yet another brigade under Bradford, but in October -the 13th Line was in garrison at Abrantes.</p> - -<p>Spry’s brigade ranked at the 3rd, Eben’s as the 7th, -Sutton’s as the 8th, and Collins’ as the 9th.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="sidenote">State of January 1, 1811</div> - -<h3>1811.</h3> - -<blockquote> -<p class="hang0">On January 1 the Army was organized as <span class="locked">follows:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> G.O.C., Cotton. A [de Grey], 3rd Dragoon Guards, -4th Dragoons; B [Slade], 1st Dragoons, 14th Light Dragoons; -C [G. Anson], 16th Light Dragoons, 1st Hussars, K.G.L.; -unbrigaded, 13th Light Dragoons.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_351">351</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>1st Division.</i> G.O.C., Spencer. A [Stopford], 1st Coldstream, -1st Scots, 1 company 5/60th; B [? Blantyre, acting], 2/24th, -2/42nd, 1/79th, 1 company 5/60th; C [Löw], 1st, 2nd, 5th, -and 7th Line, K.G.L., detachment Light Battalions, K.G.L.; -D [Erskine], 1/50th, 1/71st, 1/92nd, 1 company 3/95th.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>2nd Division.</i> G.O.C., W. Stewart. A [Colborne], 1/3rd, 2/31st, -2/48th, 2/66th, 1 company 5/60th; B [Hoghton], 29th, -1/48th, 1/57th, 1 company 5/60th; C [Lumley], 2/28th, -2/34th, 2/39th, 1 company 5/60th.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>3rd Division.</i> G.O.C., Picton. A [Mackinnon], 1/45th, 1/74th, -1/88th; B [Colville], 2/5th, 3 companies 5/60th, 2/83rd, -94th; also Sutton’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>4th Division.</i> G.O.C., Cole. A [Kemmis], 3/27th, 1/40th, 97th, -1 company 5/60th; B [Pakenham], 1/7th, 2/7th, 1/23rd, -1 Company Brunswick Oels; also Collins’ Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>5th Division.</i> G.O.C., Leith. A [Hay], 3/1st, 1/9th, 2/38th, 1 -company Brunswick Oels; B [Dunlop], 1/4th, 2/30th, -2/44th, 1 company Brunswick Oels; also Spry’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>6th Division.</i> G.O.C., A. Campbell. A [Hulse], 1/11th, 2/53rd, -1/61st, 1 company 5/60th; also Eben’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Light Division.</i> G.O.C., R. Craufurd. A [Beckwith], 1/43rd, -4 companies 1/95th, 1 company 2/95th, 1st Caçadores; -B [Wynch], 1/52nd, 4 companies 1/95th, Brunswick Oels, -3rd Caçadores.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Portuguese.</i> Hamilton’s Division, brigades under Fonseca (2nd) -and Archibald Campbell (4th). Unattached brigades under -Pack (1st), Ashworth, late A. Campbell (5th), Coleman (6th), -and Bradford (10th).</p> - -<p class="hang0">Subsequent changes <span class="locked">were:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> Cotton went home January 15, returning April 22; -in his absence Slade commanded the division until March -7, when Erskine seems to have been placed in command -of both the Cavalry and the Light Division. While Slade -had the division, his brigade was apparently under Hawker -of 14th Light Dragoons, and from March 1 to May 15, G. Anson<span class="pagenum" id="Page_352">352</span> -being absent, Arentschildt of 1st K.G.L. Hussars, commanded -C.</p> - -<p>On March 19 Long was posted to command the cavalry -of the force usually under Hill, but commanded by Beresford -during Hill’s absence. At Albuera Lumley (of II C) was -in command of Beresford’s cavalry, Long’s conduct not -having given satisfaction to the Marshal. On May 11 Erskine -was appointed to command “the cavalry south of the Tagus.”</p> - -<p>On June 13 a new brigade, D, was formed under Long, -composed of 13th Light Dragoons and 2nd Hussars K.G.L., -two squadrons of which had landed April 8. On June 18 -the 11th Light Dragoons (arrived June 1) replaced the 13th, -transferred to Slade’s brigade.</p> - -<p>On June 19 a reorganization of the cavalry in two divisions -was ordered, as <span class="locked">follows:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang6">1st Cavalry Division. G.O.C., Cotton. B [Slade], 1st -Dragoons, 13th and 14th Light Dragoons; C [G. Anson], -16th Light Dragoons, 1st Hussars, K.G.L.; also -Madden’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang6">2nd Cavalry Division. G.O.C., Erskine. A [de Grey], -3rd Dragoon Guards, 4th Dragoons; D [Long], -11th Light Dragoons, 2nd Hussars, K.G.L.</p> - -<p>On July 19 another reorganization took place, the -final result being as <span class="locked">follows:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang6">1st Cavalry Division. G.O.C., Cotton. B [Slade], 1st -Dragoons, 12th Light Dragoons (arrived July 1), -vice 13th (to C) and 14th (to D); C [G. Anson], -13th and 16th Light Dragoons; E [V. Alten, a new -brigade], 11th Light Dragoons (from D) and 1st -Hussars, K.G.L. (from C); Madden’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang6">2nd Cavalry Division. A [de Grey], 3rd Dragoon Guards, -4th Dragoons; D [Long], 14th Light Dragoons, 2nd -Hussars, K.G.L.</p> - -<p>On August 1, 9th Light Dragoons (newly arrived) were -posted to Long’s brigade, together with 13th Light Dragoons, -which exchanged from C with 14th.</p> - -<p>On August 30, a new brigade, F, was added, comprising -4th Dragoon Guards, arrived August 15, and 3rd Dragoons, -arrived before August 20, its commander being Le Marchant. -By October 1, 5th Dragoon Guards had been added to this -brigade.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_353">353</span> -On October 5 de Grey’s brigade was transferred to the 1st -Cavalry Division, to which Le Marchant’s was attached by -Orders of November 8, the Portuguese brigade being struck -off that division.</p> - -<p>From December 8 on the States do not give any G.O.C. -for the 2nd Cavalry Division.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>1st Division.</i> On January 23 Nightingale was posted to I B: -on February 6 Howard obtained I D, when Erskine was -transferred to the command of the 5th Division. On June 8 -H. Campbell’s name is given in the “State” as in command -of I A, Stopford being transferred to IV B (in Orders for -this June 18). Nightingale departing to Bengal before -June 25 his brigade had no permanent commander till -July 28, when Stopford got it.</p> - -<p>Owing to the heavy losses of the 2nd Division at Albuera -and its consequent reconstruction, Howard’s brigade was -transferred to it on June 6, and at the same time the detachment -of the Light Battalions of the K.G.L., hitherto in I C, -rejoined those battalions, which had been posted to VII A.</p> - -<p>On June 26 orders were issued for the 7th Line K.G.L., -to go home, its rank and file being drafted into the other -three battalions. On July 21 1/26th were added to I B, -having recently arrived from England.</p> - -<p>On August 9, Graham was appointed to command the -division, Spencer having gone home in July, he received -leave July 25. From December 1 onward I B appears in -the “States” as having no G.O.C.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>2nd Division.</i> The heavy losses at Albuera led to the reorganization -of the division, detailed in Orders June 6. -Howard’s brigade of the 1st Division was transferred to the -2nd Division, becoming II A. The remainder of the -brigades of Colborne and Hoghton (who was killed) were -formed into a Provisional Battalion, less 1/48th and 2/48th; -1/48th, to which the rank and file of 2/48th were drafted -(the cadre of 2/48th going home), was transferred to IV B.</p> - -<p>This Provisional Battalion was placed in Lumley’s -brigade, of which Abercromby (of 2/28th) had had temporary -command at Albuera, while Lumley was in charge of the -cavalry. At the same time, Ashworth’s Portuguese brigade<span class="pagenum" id="Page_354">354</span> -was definitely attached to it: this was the 5th Brigade, -which had been under A. Campbell in October, 1810, but -had come under Ashworth by March 11; it comprised the -6th and 18th Line and 6th Caçadores. Cf. also <cite>Wellington -Dispatches</cite>, viii, 566, and S. D. vii. 135.</p> - -<p>Before the end of May Hill returned and took over -command of the division, as well as of the whole force commanded -by Beresford at Albuera.</p> - -<p>On July 22 1/28th (newly arrived from Gibraltar) was -posted to Lumley’s brigade.</p> - -<p>On August 7 orders were issued for 1/3rd and 1/57th to -resume their separate formations, large drafts having arrived -from their second battalions in England. The division was -again formed in three brigades, Howard’s being II A, and -1/3rd, 1/57th, and the Provisional Battalion, [<i>i.e.</i> 29th -(3 companies), 2/31st (4 companies) and 2/66th (3 companies)] -forming II B, apparently under Inglis of 1/57th, while 1/28th, -2/28th, 2/34th, and 2/39th under Lumley formed II C.</p> - -<p>On August 21 2/28th was drafted into 1/28th, and sent -home, and the company 3/95th, hitherto in Howard’s brigade, -were transferred to Beckwith’s brigade of the Light Division, -being replaced in II A by a company of 5/60th, there being -three with the division.</p> - -<p>On September 21 Byng was posted to command II B, -and on October 9 Wilson was appointed to command II C, -Lumley having gone home sick early in August.</p> - -<p>On October 3 orders were issued for 29th to go home to -recruit; on October 20 1/39th, just arrived from Sicily, -was added to II C, 2/39th being drafted into it and sent home -by Orders issued December 17.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>3rd Division.</i> Orders of March 5 direct the transfer of the -headquarter companies 5/60th to III A, 2/88th, on garrison -duty at Lisbon since September 4, 1810, being added to III B. -On July 10, 2/88th was ordered to be drafted into 1/88th, and -the cadre sent home.</p> - -<p>On July 22 the 77th were added to III B.</p> - -<p>From July 1 to October 31 Mackinnon was absent from -his brigade, ill, Wallace of 1/88th commanding it in his -place.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_355">355</span> -On December 22 Colville was transferred to the command -of the 4th Division, in Cole’s absence on leave, J. Campbell -of the 94th getting III B.</p> - -<p>Champlemond had the Portuguese brigade on March 19; -but by Fuentes Power had it.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>4th Division.</i> By February 1 the headquarters and 9 companies -Brunswick Oels had been added to IV A, having been -removed from the Light Division, but on the formation -of the 7th Division (March 5), they were removed -to it.</p> - -<p>On January 23 Houston was appointed to IV B <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice</i> -Pakenham, but left the brigade again March 5, on being -appointed to command the 7th Division: Myers would -seem to have commanded IV B till Albuera, where he was -killed. On June 18 Stopford was appointed to command -IV B, but was transferred to I B on July 28, Pakenham -again getting IV B. From November 15 onwards the -“States” do not give any brigadier for IV B, but it continued -to be described as “Pakenham’s.”</p> - -<p>After Albuera 2/7th was drafted into 1/7th, the remnants -being sent home June 26; 1/48th from the 2nd Division -was added to IV B June 6. On October 3, the 97th, a single -battalion regiment, was ordered home in consequence of its -severe losses.</p> - -<p>On December 22 Colville was appointed to command -the division, Cole having gone home ill.</p> - -<p>At Albuera Harvey was in command of the Portuguese -brigade of the division, to which 1st battalion Loyal Lusitanian -Legion had been added on March 14: by September -this unit was renamed 7th Caçadores, the brigade was then -again under Collins, who at Albuera had led a provisional -brigade from the Elvas garrison [5th Line, 5th Caçadores].</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>5th Division.</i> From February 1 to February 6 the division was -without a G.O.C., Leith being absent: on February 6, -Erskine was appointed to command it, but was transferred -to the command of the advanced guard (the Light Division<span class="pagenum" id="Page_356">356</span> -and cavalry), from March 7 to April 22. During this period -Dunlop seems to have commanded the division, Egerton -of 2/44th commanding V B.</p> - -<p>On May 11 Erskine was appointed to the 2nd Cavalry -Division, and Dunlop again had temporary command of -the division until October 2, when G. T. Walker was appointed -to command his brigade. By December 1 Leith was again -in command of the division.</p> - -<p>On March 14 the 2nd Battalion Loyal Lusitanian Legion -had been added to Spry’s Portuguese brigade. By September -it had been renamed 8th Caçadores.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>6th Division.</i> Orders of March 5 directed the addition to the -division of a new brigade under Burne (of 1/36th), comprising -2nd and 1/36th.</p> - -<p>It seems to have been intended to put the Brunswick -Oels into the 6th Division, but on the formation of the -7th Division (March 5), they were put in C. Alten’s brigade.</p> - -<p>On July 21 1/32nd, arrived at Lisbon before July 8, was -posted to VI B.</p> - -<p>A. Campbell leaving for India in November, the division -was without a definite G.O.C. till the end of the year, Burne -commanding it temporarily.</p> - -<p>On March 14 the Loyal Lusitanian Legion was removed -from the Portuguese brigade of the division, and distributed -as Caçador battalions to the 4th and 5th Divisions, being -replaced by the 12th Line, formerly in Bradford’s brigade. -At Fuentes Madden commanded the brigade.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Light Division.</i> Wynch dying January 6, the 2nd Brigade was -without a commander till February 7, when Drummond (of -1/52nd) was appointed to it. Craufurd having gone home -on leave before February 8, the division had no G.O.C., -but was under Erskine from March 7 on, together with the -Cavalry who also were in the advanced guard.</p> - -<p>On March 5 2/52nd, newly arrived at Lisbon, was added -to Drummond’s brigade.</p> - -<p>R. Craufurd returned April 22 and took over the division -from Erskine.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_357">357</span> -By August 1 Beckwith had been invalided home, Andrew -Barnard of the 95th commanding the brigade in his place.</p> - -<p>On August 21 the headquarters and four companies of -the 3/95th, which had gone out to Cadiz in 1810, arrived -at Lisbon, and were added to the 1st Brigade, the company -3/95th hitherto with II A being also added to the same -brigade.</p> - -<p>Drummond dying before September 8, Vandeleur was -appointed to the vacant brigade on September 30. By -October 1 another company 2/95th had been added to the -1st Brigade.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>7th Division.</i> Orders were issued on March 5 for the formation -of this division, to be composed of two British brigades -under C. Alten and Long, and Coleman’s Portuguese, <i>i.e.</i> -7th and 19th Line and 2nd Caçadores. The composition of the -British brigades is not given, but General Orders say that the -Brunswick Oels should be in Alten’s brigade, and the Chasseurs -Britanniques (arrived at Lisbon from Cadiz, January 28) -in Long’s. The other regiments in the division were 51st -(arrived during February), 85th (arrived March 4), which -were in Long’s brigade, and the 1st and 2nd Light Battalions, -K.G.L., in Alten’s. These last only landed on March 21, -and did not join the division till it came down with Wellington -from Almeida to the Guadiana Valley for the second -siege of Badajoz. Till then they had been attached to the -force under Beresford: Schwertfeger (<i xml:lang="de" lang="de">Geschichte der K.G.L.</i>, -i. 317) says the battalions formed part of the 2nd Division, but -this does not seem accurate. As they had no casualties at -the siege of Badajoz, in which the 7th Division suffered severely, -one may presume that they finally joined the division after -the siege was raised.</p> - -<p>Thus the British brigade (at first there was only one) was -51st, 85th, Chasseurs Britanniques, Brunswick Oels. On -March 31 Sontag was posted to it <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice</i> Long, removed to -command Beresford’s cavalry, March 19.</p> - -<p>On July 19 68th (just arrived) was posted to VII B.</p> - -<p>Houston was invalided home before August 1, Sontag -commanding the division. By October he too was invalided -(his A.D.C. received orders to rejoin his regiment on October<span class="pagenum" id="Page_358">358</span> -29). Alten was in temporary command, C. Halkett commanding -his brigade. VII B was without a G.O.C. from -October 15 till de Bernewitz got it on December 23.</p> - -<p>On October 3 85th (a single-battalion regiment) was -ordered to go home to recruit.</p> - -<p>Le Cor was posted to Coleman’s brigade on March 14; at -Fuentes Doyle had it.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Portuguese.</i> No changes seem to have taken place in Hamilton’s -division, or in Pack’s brigade, but the other unattached -brigade was under McMahon in September, and included the -13th and 22nd Line and 5th Caçadores, the 12th Line having -been transferred to the 6th Division.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="sidenote">Organization on January 1, 1812</div> - -<h3>1812.</h3> - -<blockquote> -<p class="hang0">On January 1 the organization of the Army was as <span class="locked">follows:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> 1st Division. G.O.C., Cotton. B [Slade], 1st Dragoons, -12th Light Dragoons; C [no G.O.C., G. Anson absent], -14th and 16th Light Dragoons; E [Cuming of 11th Light -Dragoons in absence of V. Alten], 11th Light Dragoons, 1st -Hussars, K.G.L.; A [no G.O.C., de Grey absent], 3rd -Dragoon Guards, 4th Dragoons; F [Le Marchant], 4th and -5th Dragoon Guards, 3rd Dragoons.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> 2nd Division. No G.O.C.; D [Long], 9th and 13th -Light Dragoons, 2nd Hussars, K.G.L.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>1st Division.</i> G.O.C., Graham. A [H. Campbell], 1st Coldstreams, -1st Scots, 1 company 5/60th; B [? Blantyre for -Stopford], 2/24th, 1/26th, 2/42nd, 1/79th, 1 company 5/60th; -C [Löw], 1st, 2nd, and 5th Line, K.G.L.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>2nd Division.</i> G.O.C., Hill. A [Howard], 1/50th, 1/71st, 1/92nd -1 company 5/60th; B [Byng], 1/3rd, 1/57th, 1st Provisional -Battalion (i.e. 2/31st and 2/66th), 1 company 5/60th; C -[Wilson], 1/28th, 2/34th, 1/39th, 1 company 5/60th; also -Ashworth’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>3rd Division.</i> G.O.C., Picton. A [Mackinnon], 1/45th, Headquarters -5/60th, 74th, 1/88th; B [J. Campbell for Colville], -2/5th, 77th, 2/83rd, 94th; also Palmeirim’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_359">359</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>4th Division.</i> G.O.C., Colville (for Cole). A [Kemmis], 3/27th, -1/40th, 1 company 5/60th; B [? Pakenham], 1/7th, 1/23rd, -1/48th, 1 company Brunswick Oels; also Collins’ Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>5th Division.</i> G.O.C., Leith. A [Hay], 3/1st, 1/9th, 2/38th, 1 -company Brunswick Oels; B [Walker], 1/4th, 2/30th, 2/44th, -1 company Brunswick Oels; also Spry’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>6th Division.</i> No G.O.C., Burne in temporary charge. A [Hulse], -1/11th, 2/53rd, 1/61st, 1 company 5/60th; B [Burne], 2nd, -1/32nd, 1/36th; also Madden’s [?] Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>7th Division.</i> No G.O.C., Alten in temporary charge. A [C. -Halkett for Alten], 1st and 2nd Light Battalions, K.G.L., -Brunswick Oels; B [de Bernewitz], 51st, 68th, Chasseurs -Britanniques: also Coleman’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Light Division.</i> G.O.C., R. Craufurd. A [? Barnard], 1/43rd, -4 companies 1/95th, 2 companies 2/95th, 5 companies 3/95th, -1st Caçadores; B [Vandeleur], 1/52nd, 2/52nd, 4 companies -1/95th, 3rd Caçadores.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Portuguese.</i> Hamilton’s division, with brigades under Fonseca -and Arch. Campbell. Unattached brigades under Pack and -McMahon.</p> - -<p class="hang0">Subsequent changes <span class="locked">were:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> On January 1 the 1st and 2nd Dragoons, K.G.L., under -Bock arrived at Lisbon: they remained near there till -March 12, joining the army at Estremoz March 23, and -being reckoned as the 2nd Brigade (= G) of the 2nd Cavalry -Division.</p> - -<p>By January 8 V. Alten was again in command of his -brigade.</p> - -<p>Several changes took place under orders issued January -29; the 3rd and 4th Dragoon Guards were posted to Slade’s -brigade, from which the 12th Light Dragoons were removed -to G. Anson’s, the 4th Dragoons replaced the 4th Dragoon -Guards in Le Marchant’s, and de Grey’s brigade disappeared. -F. Ponsonby of the 12th Light Dragoons took command of -C in Anson’s absence.</p> - -<p>By April 8 Erskine had resumed command of the 2nd<span class="pagenum" id="Page_360">360</span> -Cavalry Division, to which Slade’s brigade was transferred -April 14, Bock’s joining the 1st Division.</p> - -<p>On July 1, an exchange was ordered between the 11th -and 14th Light Dragoons: G. Anson, who had resumed -command of his brigade, having 11th, 12th and 16th Light -Dragoons, V. Alten 14th Light Dragoons and 1st Hussars, -K.G.L.</p> - -<p>At Salamanca Cotton was wounded, and Le Marchant -killed. While Cotton was disabled, Bock commanded the -Cavalry, de Jonquières having his brigade. W. Ponsonby, -of 5th Dragoon Guards, succeeded to Le Marchant’s brigade -(by orders of July 23). Cotton rejoined before October 15, -but had to go home again in December invalided. From -August 1 V. Alten was absent, but rejoined by the middle -of September.</p> - -<p>By Orders of October 17, 2nd Hussars, K.G.L., were -transferred to V. Alten’s brigade.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>1st Division.</i> Stopford resumed command of I B before -February 1, but was gone again by April 8. On May 7 -Wheatley was appointed to command the brigade until -Stopford’s return.</p> - -<p>1/26th, being too sickly for field service, was out of I B -before March 8, being sent down to Lisbon, and thence to -Gibraltar to relieve 1/82nd. Their place in I B was taken -by 1/42nd, just arrived from England and posted to I B -April 23. On May 19 2/42nd was ordered home, drafting -its rank and file into 1/42nd. 2/58th was posted to I B -by Orders of April 2; on June 1 its transfer to V B -was ordered, but “orders will hereafter be given as to the -regiment joining the brigade.” It seems to have remained -with I B till after the retreat from Burgos.</p> - -<p>Graham going home ill July 6, H. Campbell was appointed -to command the division, Fermor getting I A.</p> - -<p>Wheatley died September 1, Stirling (of 1/42nd) being -appointed to I B September 11.</p> - -<p>On October 11 E. Paget was posted to command the -division, but he was taken prisoner November 17, his place -being taken by W. Stewart, who had just returned to the -Peninsula.</p> - -<p>After the retreat from Burgos the division was reorganized.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_361">361</span> -A new brigade of Guards was added, composed of 1/1st -(Grenadier) Guards, who arrived at Corunna from England -October 1 and joined the army on the Carrion October 24, and -3/1st Guards, who had been at Cadiz, and came up to Madrid -with Skerrett’s column. This was ordered October 17, -but cannot have been carried out till later. On November -10 Howard was transferred from II A to command this -brigade. On November 11 Stirling’s brigade was ordered -to be removed to the 6th Division, the company of 5/60th -attached to it remaining in the 1st Division. On December -6 the 1st and 2nd Light Battalions, K.G.L., were removed -from VII A to the K.G.L. brigade of the 1st Division.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>2nd Division.</i> In Orders of April 14, Tilson-Chowne (formerly -Tilson) was appointed to command the division, “under -Hill,” but though present at Almaraz in May does not seem -to have been present to the end of the year. Howard being -transferred to the 1st Division, November 10, Cadogan -(of 1/71st) took command of II A.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>3rd Division.</i> At Ciudad Rodrigo Mackinnon was killed (January -19), his brigade going to Kempt—in Orders February 8.</p> - -<p>At Badajoz Picton and Kempt were wounded (April 6), -Wallace taking over Kempt’s brigade, and also having -temporary command of the division when Picton was disabled: -Forbes (of 1/45th) then commanded III A.</p> - -<p>After the fall of Badajoz 77th (a single battalion regiment) -was sent down to Lisbon, being much reduced.</p> - -<p>On June 28 Pakenham was appointed to command -“Colville’s brigade in the 3rd Division,” <i>i.e.</i> III B. At -Salamanca he commanded the division, Picton having gone -sick again, Wallace and J. Campbell having the brigades.</p> - -<p>1/5th, which arrived in May, was posted to III B June 1, -both battalions were at Salamanca, but on July 27 2/5th -was drafted into 1/5th, the skeleton going home in October.</p> - -<p>By Orders of October 17 2/87th, which had come up -from Cadiz with Skerrett, was posted to III B, then still -called “Colville’s.”</p> - -<p>Wallace was invalided home after the retreat from Burgos.</p> - -<p>Pakenham was to retain command of the division till -the return of “Colville or some other” (<i>W. D.</i>, v. 399), his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_362">362</span> -name does not appear in the States as commanding III B -after November 1: Colville apparently came back before the -end of the year: <i>D. N. B.</i> says in October.</p> - -<p>On April 8 Power took over the Portuguese brigade, -Champlemond, who had it <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice</i> Palmeirim by March 17, having -been wounded at Badajoz: 12th Caçadores were added to it -on April 8.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>4th Division.</i> On February 9, Bowes was appointed to command -“the brigade late under Pakenham,” <i>i.e.</i> IV B. In April -Colville was wounded at Badajoz, and the division was -without a G.O.C. till Cole returned—before July 8.</p> - -<p>At Salamanca (July 22), Cole was wounded, and was -absent in consequence till October 15. In Cole’s absence -W. Anson, who was appointed to IV A April 9, would -have commanded the division. The vacancy in IV A -was caused by the departure of Kemmis—before April 1: -at Badajoz Harcourt (of 1/40th) commanded IV A.</p> - -<p>Bowes was transferred to the 6th Division May 2, and -it would appear that Ellis (of 1/23rd) commanded IV B -temporarily. He certainly was in charge of it at Salamanca, -and apparently kept it till Skerrett took charge of it. It -was then still described as “Pakenham’s,” as was also the -case as late as November 28. Skerrett was appointed to it -on October 17, but his force from Cadiz only joined Hill -on October 26, and the arrangements ordered on October 17 -can hardly have been carried out at once.</p> - -<p>Skerrett’s brigade (3/1st Guards, 2/47th, 2/87th and 2 -companies 2/95th) seems to have acted with IV after joining -Hill’s force, but was broken up when operations ceased.</p> - -<p>Orders of October 17 directed 1/82nd, which had come -up from Gibraltar in June and was with the 4th Division at -Madrid, to join IV B, but the battalion was transferred to -VII A by Orders of November 28, the 20th which arrived -in December being posted to IV B instead. On 1/82nd -joining, 1/48th was transferred to IV A.</p> - -<p>On December 6 the 2nd Provisional Battalion (<i>i.e.</i> 2nd -and 1/53rd) was posted to IV A.</p> - -<p>By Salamanca Stubbs had taken over command of the -Portuguese Brigade, which had been under Harvey by -March 17 and at the siege of Badajoz.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_363">363</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>5th Division.</i> At Badajoz Walker was wounded (April 6): -his brigade had no regular G.O.C. till Pringle was appointed -to it June 28.</p> - -<p>On May 10 2/4th, arrived at Lisbon during April, was -posted to V B. In June 1/38th came out and was present -at Salamanca, apparently with V A, but it only appears as -part of that brigade in the “States” of August 8 and -afterwards.</p> - -<p>Orders of June 1 directed 2/58th to join V B, but the -battalion seems to have been with I B till reorganized as -part of the 3rd Provisional Battalion in December.</p> - -<p>Hay was absent from June 8, Greville of 1/38th commanding -the brigade till July 31, when Hulse was transferred -to it. Hulse must have also commanded the division, -as Leith was wounded at Salamanca and invalided home. -Hulse dying (September 6), Pringle commanded the division, -until Oswald was appointed to it (October 25), when Pringle -reverted to his brigade, of which Brooke (of 4th) had been -in command.</p> - -<p>Orders of June 18 directed 1/9th to exchange with 2/30th -and 2/44th, but these were cancelled June 28. E. Barnes -was in Orders to command V A October 28, but seems to -have been with the brigade at Villa Muriel three days earlier. -On December 6 he was transferred to VII A. Hay -appears to have returned before December 31.</p> - -<p>On December 6 Orders directed the drafting 2/4th into -1/4th and 2/38th into 1/38th, the skeletons being sent home, -also for forming 2/30th and 2/44th into a Provisional Battalion, -the 4th. By Orders of October 17 2/47th of Skerrett’s -column had been posted to V B, which was then described -as Walker’s brigade.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>6th Division.</i> On February 9 H. Clinton was appointed to -command the division.</p> - -<p>By April 1 VI B was without a brigadier: Bowes was -appointed to it May 2, but he was killed in the attack on -the Salamanca forts (June 24). On this Hinde, of 32nd, -commanded the brigade, being appointed definitely to it -September 30, but ante-dated to June.</p> - -<p>On Hulse being transferred to V A, July 31, VI A was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_364">364</span> -without a brigadier, Bingham, of 2/53rd, being actually -in command, until the amalgamation of the two brigades -by Orders of November 11. At the same time Stirling’s -brigade was transferred from the 1st Division to the 6th, -1/91st, which arrived at Corunna October 8, being added -to it by Orders of November 28—it actually joined -December 14.</p> - -<p>On December 6 orders were issued for the formation of -2nd and 2/53rd as the 2nd Provisional Battalion, and of 2/24th, -and 2/58th as the 3rd Provisional Battalion, and for their -transfer to IV A and VII A respectively.</p> - -<p>The Portuguese Brigade was under Eben till April 30, when -the Conde de Rezende took command. It was joined by 9th -Caçadores on April 10. Rezende was invalided in November, -and succeeded by Madden.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>7th Division.</i> On May 2 Alten was transferred to command the -Light Division: John Hope being given command of the -7th. Halkett of 2nd Light Battalion, K.G.L. seems to -have commanded VII A, though in the “States” no brigadier -is named from May 2 till December 6, when E. Barnes was -appointed to it.</p> - -<p>Hope having to quit the army on account of his health -September 23, the division had no G.O.C. till October 25, -when Lord Dalhousie was appointed to it, having been -put on the Staff of the Army September 12.</p> - -<p>On November 28, 1/6th, newly arrived from England, was -added to VII A, then called “Colonel Halkett’s,” and 1/82nd, -from IV B, was added to VII B.</p> - -<p>Orders of December 6 directed the transfer of the Light -Battalions, K.G.L., to the 1st Division, the 3rd Provisional -Battalion (<i>i.e.</i> 2/24th and 2/58th) being added to VII A.</p> - -<p>The Portuguese Brigade was under Palmeirim in March: -later it seems to have been under Doyle of the 19th Line.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Light Division.</i> At Ciudad Rodrigo (January 19), Craufurd was -killed, and Vandeleur wounded; Barnard then took command -of the division, and Gibbs of 1/52nd of the 2nd Brigade. -By April 15 Vandeleur had resumed command, 2/52nd was -drafted to 1/52nd by Orders of February 23, the skeleton -being sent home.</p> - -<p>On May 2 C. Alten received command of the division.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_365">365</span> -By May 8 1/95th had been united in the 2nd Brigade, -but Orders of August 24 again divided it, 3 companies in -each brigade: before the end of the year it was again -united and placed in the 1st Brigade.</p> - -<p>Two more companies 2/95th came out from England in -May, and joined those already out, the four being in the -2nd Brigade. Two more came up from Cadiz with Skerrett, -and joined the brigade.</p> - -<p>3/95th seems to have been transferred temporarily to the -2nd Brigade, but was back in the 1st by the end of the year.</p> - -<p>The 20th Portuguese, which had come up with Skerrett, -were posted to “Beckwith’s brigade,” October 17.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Portuguese.</i> In April, 1812, Power had replaced Arch. Campbell -in command of the 4th Brigade, while Bradford had the -11th <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice</i> McMahon: this now included the 5th Caçadores, -13th and 24th Line.</p> - -<p>By July Power had exchanged the 4th Brigade for the -8th, which was in the 3rd Division. A. Campbell would -seem to have again commanded the 4th, to which on April 8 -the 10th Caçadores were added.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="sidenote">Changes in 1813</div> - -<h3>1813.</h3> - -<blockquote> -<p class="hang0">On January 1 the Army was organized as <span class="locked">follows:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> 1st Division. No G.O.C., Cotton absent. F [W. -Ponsonby], 5th Dragoon Guards, 3rd and 4th Dragoons; -C [G. Anson], 11th, 12th, and 16th Light Dragoons; E -[V. Alten], 14th Light Dragoons, 1st and 2nd K.G.L. -Hussars; G [Bock], 1st and 2nd K.G.L. Dragoons.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> 2nd Division. No G.O.C. B [Slade], 3rd and 4th -Dragoon Guards, 1st Dragoons; D [Long], 9th and 13th -Light Dragoons.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>1st Division.</i> G.O.C., W. Stewart. A [Howard], 1/1st Guards, -3/1st Guards, 1 company 5/60th; B [Fermor], 1st Coldstreams, -1st Scots, 1 company 5/60th; C [Löw], 1st, 2nd, -and 5th Line, K.G.L., 1st and 2nd Light Battalions, K.G.L.<a id="FNanchor_350" href="#Footnote_350" class="fnanchor">350</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_366">366</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>2nd Division.</i> G.O.C., Hill. A [Cadogan], 1/50th, 1/71st, 1/92nd, -1 company 5/60th; B [Byng], 1/3rd, 1/57th, 1st Provisional -Battalion (= 2/31st and 2/66th), 1 company 5/60th; C -[Wilson], 1/28th, 2/34th, 1/39th, 1 company 5/60th; also -Ashworth’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>3rd Division.</i> G.O.C.,? Pakenham. A [no brigadier], 1/45th, -headquarters 5/60th, 74th, 1/88th; B [J. Campbell for -Colville], 1/5th, 2/83rd, 2/87th, 94th; also Power’s -Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>4th Division.</i> G.O.C., Cole. A [W. Anson], 3/27th, 1/40th, 1/48th, -2nd Provisional Battalion (= 2nd and 2/53rd), 1 company -5/60th; B [Skerrett], 1/7th, 20th, 1/23rd, 1 company -Brunswick Oels; also Stubbs’ Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>5th Division.</i> G.O.C.,? Hay, acting. A [Hay], 3/1st, 1/9th, -1/38th, 1 company Brunswick Oels; B [Pringle], 1/4th, -2/47th, 4th Provisional Battalion (= 2/30th and 2/44th), -1 company Brunswick Oels; also Spry’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>6th Division.</i> G.O.C., H. Clinton. A [Stirling], 1/42nd, 1/79th, -1/91st, 1 company 5/60th; B [Hinde], 1/11th, 1/32nd, -1/36th, 1/61st; also Madden’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>7th Division.</i> G.O.C., Dalhousie. A [Barnes], 1/6th, 3rd -Provisional Battalion (= 2/24th and 2/58th), Headquarters -and 9 companies Brunswick Oels; B [de Bernewitz], 51st, -68th, 1/82nd; Chasseurs Britanniques; also Doyle’s -Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Light Division.</i> G.O.C., C. Alten. A [no brigadier present: -still called Beckwith’s], 1/43rd, 1/95th, 3/95th, 1st Caçadores; -B [Vandeleur], 1/52nd, 2/95th, 3rd Caçadores,? 20th -Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Portuguese.</i> Hamilton’s division, brigades under (?) Fonseca -and Campbell. Unattached brigades, Pack’s and Bradford’s.</p> - -<p class="hang0">Subsequent changes <span class="locked">were:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> By January 25 a new brigade (H) was added, -composed of two squadrons each of 1st and 2nd Life Guards -and Royal Horse Guards, O’Loghlin had apparently been -appointed to command it, but by Orders of November 28,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_367">367</span> -1812, F. S. Rebow was appointed to command it in his -place. It ranked as 3rd Brigade, 2nd Division, but was -transferred to the 1st on February 5. In March it was -under Sir Robert Hill, Rebow having gone home.</p> - -<p>Orders of March 13 directed the distribution among the -regiments remaining in the Peninsula of the horses of 4th -Dragoon Guards, 9th and 11th Light Dragoons, and 2nd -K.G.L. Hussars, these regiments going home. Their place -was taken by a new brigade (I), under Colquhoun -Grant, of 15th Hussars, composed of the 10th, 15th -and 18th Hussars: this first appears in the “States” on -April 15.</p> - -<p>Orders were issued April 21 for the amalgamation of the -two divisions, “under the command of Sir S. Cotton”: -Cotton did not, however, rejoin till June 25, and in his -absence Bock seems to have commanded the cavalry, his -brigade being under Bülow.</p> - -<p>On May 20 Fane, appointed a Major-General on the Staff -April 24, was given B vice Slade, who had been ordered -home April 23.</p> - -<p>On July 2 orders were issued to transfer the 18th Hussars -to V. Alten’s brigade, vice the 14th Light Dragoons moved -to Long’s, which had been reduced to one regiment by the -departure of the 9th Light Dragoons (out of the “States” by -April 4). Lord E. Somerset at the same time was given -command of the Hussar brigade <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice</i> Grant and Vandeleur, -that of C <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice</i> G. Anson, removed to the Home -Staff.</p> - -<p>On September 6 Grant was appointed to take over -Long’s brigade, Long having apparently gone home before -the battles of the Pyrenees, as his name was not among the -commanders of Cavalry brigades thanked by Parliament -on November 8 for those operations. On November 24 -Hussey Vivian was appointed to take Grant’s place.</p> - -<p>7th Hussars arrived in Spain in September, and were -added to the Hussar brigade. They would seem to have -been with the brigade by October 21, but were not in Orders -till November 24.</p> - -<p>In October O’Loghlin seems to have taken over the -Household Brigade, he had been placed on the Staff June 17.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_368">368</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>1st Division.</i> In March Howard replaced W. Stewart in command, -but on May 19 Graham was appointed to command -the division Howard acting as his assistant while Graham -commanded the left wing of the army. On October 8 -Graham resigned command and went home ill. Sir John -Hope<a id="FNanchor_351" href="#Footnote_351" class="fnanchor">351</a> took his place: he was placed on the Staff October -10, as from September 25.</p> - -<p>While Howard commanded the division his brigade was -under Lambert; it missed Vittoria, being too sickly to take -the field with the army and only joined in August.</p> - -<p>On July 2 Lambert was transferred to VI B, and Maitland -got the brigade.</p> - -<p>Löw went home May 6, the K.G.L. being certainly -one brigade only at Vittoria, where Halkett commanded -them.</p> - -<p>Lord Aylmer’s brigade (76th, 2/84th and 85th) which is -first mentioned in Orders on July 23, and joined the -army during August, may be reckoned as part of the 1st -Division with which it always acted. By Orders of October -17 2/62nd was added to it vice 2/84th transferred to V B. -On November 24 the 77th (from Lisbon) was added to it.</p> - -<p>On October 20 Hinüber was appointed to command the -K.G.L. infantry.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>2nd Division.</i> On March 25 W. Stewart was appointed to -command the division “under Hill’s direction.” At the -same time G. T. Walker got Howard’s brigade, on the latter -taking over the 1st Division from Stewart.</p> - -<p>Wilson died in January and O’Callaghan of 39th commanded -the brigade till July 23, when Pringle was appointed -to it. On May 1 Wellington had written that he was keeping -it vacant for Oswald, should Leith come out and take over -the 5th Division.</p> - -<p>At Vittoria Cadogan was killed and J. Cameron of 92nd -took over II A; he was wounded at Maya (July 25), and -Fitzgerald of 5/60th commanded, till Walker actually joined -in August. On November 18 Walker was transferred to -command the 7th Division, Barnes being appointed to II A -November 20.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_369">369</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>3rd Division.</i> Pakenham was transferred to the 6th Division -January 26, the division being under Colville who had -returned before that date. Picton rejoined in May, Colville -reverting to the command of his brigade. Picton was again -absent from September 8, but returned just before the end -of the year. Colville was in command at the Nivelle -(November), but was transferred to command the 5th -Division, when Picton came back in December.</p> - -<p>The 11th Caçadores were posted to Power’s brigade before -April 26, taking the place of the 12th.</p> - -<p>Brisbane, appointed to Staff of Army January 7, was -given command of III A, <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice</i> Kempt, March 25.</p> - -<p>Colville being given temporary command of the 6th -Division on August 8, Keane commanded III B, as also -when Colville came back to the division.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>4th Division.</i> By Orders of July 2 Skerrett was transferred -to the Light Division, his brigade going to Ross of 20th.</p> - -<p>By September 1 the Portuguese brigade was under -Miller: at the Nivelle (November 10) Vasconcellos had it.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>5th Division.</i> While Hay commanded the division Greville of -38th had his brigade. In April Oswald took over the -division and commanded it till Leith returned—August 30. -Leith was wounded at San Sebastian on September 1, and -Oswald again took command; but at the Bidassoa, (October 9) -Hay was in command, Greville having V A. On March 9 -Robinson was appointed to “Walker’s brigade,” <i>i.e.</i> V B.</p> - -<p>On April 12 2/59th from Cadiz was added to V B; on -May 10 the 4th Provisional Battalion was ordered to return -home. On October 17 2/84th from Lord Aylmer’s brigade -was added to V B, 2/47th being transferred to V A. -Robinson was wounded before Bayonne December 10, and his -successor, Piper of 4th, being wounded next day the command -passed to Tonson of 2/84th.</p> - -<p>At the passage of the Bidassoa the Portuguese brigade -was commanded by de Regoa and until the end of the year.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>6th Division.</i> On January 26 Pakenham was appointed to -command the division in Clinton’s absence. On June 25 -he was appointed Adjutant-General, and Clinton returned -and resumed command. By July 22 Clinton was again<span class="pagenum" id="Page_370">370</span> -absent, Pack getting the division. At Sorauren (July 28) -Pack was wounded, and Pakenham took over the division -temporarily, giving it over to Colville before August 8, -Colville seems to have still been in command at the passage -of the Bidassoa (October 9), but Clinton then returned, -Colville reverting to the 3rd Division.</p> - -<p>Pack had been appointed to command VI A, <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice</i> -Stirling, July 2, Lambert at the same time getting VI B, <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice</i> -Hinde. Stirling commanded VI A when Pack got the -division, but went home in October.</p> - -<p>The Portuguese brigade was under the command of -Madden till the autumn: Douglas of the 8th Line had it at -the Nivelle.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>7th Division.</i> By April 16 de Bernewitz was no longer in -command of his brigade, to which Inglis was appointed -May 21, though at Vittoria Grant of 1/82nd commanded -it, but Inglis took charge before the Pyrenees.</p> - -<p>Le Cor received command of the Portuguese brigade on -March 9. When he was promoted in November Doyle had it.</p> - -<p>Dalhousie went home after the Bidassoa, October 9, -and at the Nivelle (November 9) Le Cor was in command. -On November 18 G. T. Walker was given command “in -Dalhousie’s absence.” Le Cor would seem to have been -transferred to command the Portuguese division formerly -under Hamilton.</p> - -<p>On Barnes returning to the 2nd Division November 20, -his brigade seems to have gone to Gardiner.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Light Division.</i> On March 23 Kempt was appointed to A. -On July 2 Vandeleur was transferred to a cavalry brigade, -Skerrett getting B. At the passage of the Bidassoa and -to the end of the year Colborne of 52nd was in command -of B, vice Skerrett, who went home in September.</p> - -<p>The 20th Portuguese never joined the division: in -place of them on April 26 the 17th Portuguese appear -in its “State.”</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Portuguese.</i> Hamilton had had to give up command of his -Portuguese division in February, owing to ill-health, upon -which it was under Silveira, the brigades being under -Da Costa and Campbell during the battles of the Pyrenees.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_371">371</span> -By the passage of the Nivelle (November 9) Hamilton was -again in command, Buchan had Da Costa’s brigade, but -during the fighting on the Nive (December 9–11), Le Cor -had the division and Buchan and Da Costa the brigades. -Buchan was ordered to transfer himself to the Portuguese -Brigade of the 7th Division on Nov. 9, but this move was -countermanded.</p> - -<p>When Pack was moved to a British command (July 2) his -brigade went to Wilson, who commanded it at the Bidassoa, -but had been replaced by A. Campbell by the Nive (December -9), Wilson having been wounded November 18.</p> - -<p>Bradford seems to have retained the other unattached -brigade all the year.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="sidenote">Organization on Jan. 1, 1814</div> - -<h3>1814.</h3> - -<blockquote> -<p class="hang0">On January 1 the organization was as <span class="locked">follows:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> G.O.C., Cotton. I [O’Loghlin], 1st and 2nd Life -Guards, R.H.G.; F [W. Ponsonby], 5th Dragoon Guards, -3rd and 4th Dragoons; C [Vandeleur], 12th and 16th Light -Dragoons; D [Vivian], 13th and 14th Light Dragoons; -E [V. Alten], 18th Hussars, 1st K.G.L. Hussars; G [Bock], -1st and 2nd K.G.L. Dragoons; B [Fane], 3rd Dragoon Guards, -1st Dragoons; H [Somerset], 7th, 10th and 15th Hussars.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>1st Division.</i> G.O.C., Hope, with Howard as assistant; A -[Maitland for Howard], 1/1st Guards, 3/1st Guards, 1 company -5/60th; B [Stopford], 1st Coldstreams, 1st Scots, 1 company -5/60th; C [Hinüber], 1st, 2nd and 5th Line, K.G.L.; 1st -and 2nd Light Battalions, K.G.L.; D [Aylmer], 2/62nd, -76th, 77th, 85th.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>2nd Division.</i> G.O.C., W. Stewart. A [Barnes], 1/50th, 1/71st, -1/92nd, 1 company 5/60th; B [Byng], 1/3rd, 1/57th, 1st -Provisional Battalion (2/31st and 2/66th), 1 company 5/60th; -C [Pringle], 1/28th, 2/34th, 1/39th, 1 company 5/60th; also -Ashworth’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>3rd Division.</i> G.O.C., Picton. A [Brisbane], 1/45th, Headquarters -5/60th, 74th, 1/88th; B [Keane], 1/5th, 2/83rd, -2/87th, 94th; also Power’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>4th Division.</i> G.O.C., Cole. A [W. Anson], 3/27th, 1/40th, -1/48th, 2nd Provisional Battalion (2nd and 2/53rd), 1<span class="pagenum" id="Page_372">372</span> -company Brunswick Oels; B [Ross], 1/7th, 1/20th, 1/23rd, -1 company 5/60th; also Vasconcellos’ Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>5th Division.</i> G.O.C., Colville. A [Hay], 3/1st, 1/9th, 1/38th, -2/47th, 1 company Brunswick Oels; B [Robinson], 1/4th, -2/59th, 2/84th, 1 company Brunswick Oels; also de Regoa’s -Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>6th Division.</i> G.O.C., Clinton. A [Pack], 1/42nd, 1/79th, -1/91st, 1 company 5/60th; B [Lambert], 1/11th, 1/32nd, -1/36th, 1/61st; also Douglas’ Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>7th Division.</i> G.O.C., Walker. A [Gardiner], 1/6th, 3rd Provisional -Battalion (2/24th and 2/58th), Headquarters -Brunswick Oels; B [Inglis], 51st, 68th, 1/82nd, Chasseurs -Britanniques; also Doyle’s Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Light Division.</i> G.O.C., C. Alten. A [Kempt], 1/43rd, 1/95th, -3/95th, 1st Caçadores; B [Colborne], 1/52nd, 2/95th, 3rd -Caçadores, 17th Portuguese.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Portuguese.</i> Le Cor’s division, with Da Costa and Buchan -commanding brigades. Unattached brigades under A. -Campbell and Bradford.</p> - -<p class="hang0">Subsequent changes <span class="locked">were:—</span></p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Cavalry.</i> By January 16 several changes had taken place: -V. Alten had gone and Vivian had been transferred to his -brigade, Fane having transferred from B to D (late Vivian’s). -Bock also went (he was drowned off the coast of Brittany in -February) about the same time.</p> - -<p>From January 25 W. Ponsonby was absent, Lord C. -Manners of 3rd Dragoons commanding his brigade.</p> - -<p>By March 25 Arentschildt (of 1st K.G.L. Hussars) had -been given Bock’s old brigade: on Vivian being wounded -(April 8) Arentschildt was transferred to E, and Bülow got -the “German Heavy Brigade.”</p> - -<p>Fane’s name appears in the “States” both as commanding -B and D. According to the <cite>Regimental History of the -14th Hussars</cite> (by Col. H. B. Hamilton) he commanded both, -working them practically as a division, the brigades being<span class="pagenum" id="Page_373">373</span> -respectively commanded by Clifton of the Royals (B), and -Doherty of the 13th Light Dragoons (D).</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>1st Division.</i> 1/37th joined Aylmer’s brigade before March 25. -On April 14 Stopford was wounded at Bayonne and his -division went to Guise.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>2nd Division.</i> On February 15 Pringle was wounded and -O’Callaghan commanded the brigade.</p> - -<p>It was arranged that when Lord Dalhousie rejoined, and -resumed command of the 7th Division, Walker should revert -to II A and Barnes take over III B, but Walker was wounded -at Orthez and went home, so the arrangement was never -carried out.</p> - -<p>By January 16 Harding had replaced Ashworth in command -of the 5th Portuguese brigade.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>3rd Division.</i> No changes: Brisbane was slightly wounded at -Toulouse.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>4th Division.</i> Ross was wounded at Orthez (February 27) and -the brigade was without a G.O.C.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>5th Division.</i> After February 1 Robinson was absent. -Hay was killed before Bayonne April 14.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>6th Division.</i> Pack was wounded at Toulouse, as was also -Douglas.</p> - -<p>1/32nd missed Toulouse, being at San Jean de Luz refitting.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>7th Division.</i> Walker was wounded at Orthez and went home: -Dalhousie arriving almost immediately after the battle -and resuming command.</p> - -<p>By January 16, the Portuguese brigade was under Doyle -(he may have got it when Le Cor obtained command of the -Portuguese division.)</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Light Division.</i> 1/43rd and 1/95th both missed Orthez, being -away refitting.</p> - -<p class="hang2"><i>Portuguese.</i> Da Costa was ordered back to Portugal before -March 15.</p></blockquote> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_375">375</span></p> - -<div id="apx3" class="chapter"> -<h2 id="APPENDIX_III" class="vspace">APPENDIX III.<br /> - -<span class="subhead">PENINSULAR AUTOBIOGRAPHIES, JOURNALS, -LETTERS, ETC.</span></h2> - -<p>The subjoined list, which includes all the printed autobiographies, -diaries, journals, and series of letters utilized in this volume, makes -no pretensions to be exhaustive. It contains, however, all the -more important original sources of this character, as opposed to -formal histories, controversial monographs, and biographies of -Peninsular officers written by authors who were not themselves -engaged in the war. But I have added to the list those later -biographies which contain a great proportion of original and contemporary -letters or diaries, such as Delavoye’s <cite>Life of Lord Lynedoch</cite>, -Rait’s <cite>Life of Lord Gough</cite>, Wrottesley’s <cite>Life of Sir John Burgoyne</cite>, -and C. Vivian’s <cite>Life of Lord Vivian</cite>. Much valuable first-hand -information is imbedded in such works.</p> - -<p>The books are arranged under headings according to the position -which the writer held in the Peninsular War, mainly by regiments, -but partly under departmental sections [staff, commissariat, medical, -etc.]. I trust that the list may be found useful for those wishing to -compile regimental, brigade, or divisional annals of any part of -the war.</p> - -<h3>I. STAFF.</h3> - -<blockquote> - -<p>[<i>Including the Diaries, Memoirs, Correspondence, etc., of General -Officers, their Aides-de-Camp, and Officers attached to Head-Quarters.</i>]</p> - -<p>Blayney (Lord). Narrative of a Forced Journey through Spain and -France, by Major-General Lord Blayney [The Fuengirola -Expedition, etc.]. London, 1814.</p> - -<p>Burghersh (Lord). Memoir of the Early Campaign of the Duke of -Wellington in Portugal and Spain [anon]. London, 1820.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_376">376</span> -Cotton, Sir S. Life and Correspondence of Field-Marshal Lord -Combermere [Sir Stapleton Cotton], ed. by Viscountess Combermere -and Capt. W. Knollys. London, 1866.</p> - -<p>Douglas, Sir H. Life of General Sir Howard Douglas from his Notes, -Conversation, and Letters [Campaigns of 1811–14]. London, -1863.</p> - -<p>Fitzclarence, A. An Account of the British Campaign of 1809 under -Sir A. Wellesley in Portugal and Spain by Lt.-Col. Fitzclarence -[Earl of Munster]. London, 1831.</p> - -<p>Graham, Sir T. Life and Letters of Sir Thomas Graham, Lord -Lynedoch, by Captain A. M. Delavoye. London, 1868.</p> - -<p>Gomm (Sir W.). His Letters and Journals from 1799 to Waterloo -[1808–9 and 1810–14]. London, 1881.</p> - -<p>Hill, Lord, Life and Letters of, by Rev. E. Sidney. London, 1845.</p> - -<p>Larpent, F. S. The Private Journal of Judge-Advocate F. S. Larpent, -attached to Lord Wellington’s Headquarters, 1812–14. London, -1853.</p> - -<p>Leith Hay, A. Narrative of the Peninsular War, by Sir Andrew Leith -Hay [Aide-de-Camp to General Leith]. 2 vols. London, 1879.</p> - -<p>Mackinnon, General Henry. Journal in Portugal and Spain, 1809–12 -[Privately Printed]. 1812.</p> - -<p>Moore, Sir J. The Diary of Sir John Moore, ed. by General Sir T. F. -Maurice. 2 vols. London, 1904.</p> - -<p>Picton, Sir T. Memoirs and Correspondence of General Sir T. Picton, -by H. B. Robinson. 2 vols. London, 1836.</p> - -<p>Porter, Sir R. K. Letters from Portugal and Spain written during -the March of the British Troops [by Sir Robert Ker Porter], -1808–9. London, 1809.</p> - -<p>Shaw-Kennedy, T. [Aide-de-Camp to General Craufurd]. Diary of -1810, printed in Lord Fitzclarence’s <cite>Manual of Outpost Duties</cite>. -London, 1849.</p> - -<p>Sorell, T. S. Notes on the Campaign of 1808–9, by Lieut.-Col. T. S. -Sorell, Aide-de-Camp to Sir D. Baird. London, 1828.</p> - -<p>Stewart, Sir Chas. Lives and Correspondence of the Second and Third -Marquesses of Londonderry [the third was Chas. Stewart, -Adjutant-General to Wellington]. 3 vols. London, 1861.</p> - -<p>Vere, C. B. Marches, Movements, and Operations of the 4th -Division, in Spain and Portugal, 1810–12, by Chas. Brooke -Vere, Assistant Quarter-Master General of the Division. Ipswich, -1841.</p></blockquote> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_377">377</span></p> - -<h3>II. REGIMENTAL REMINISCENCES AND JOURNALS.</h3> - -<h4>(<i>a</i>) <span class="smcap">Cavalry.</span></h4> - -<blockquote> - -<p>7th Hussars. Vivian (Lord). Richard Hussey Vivian, First Baron -Vivian, Memoir and Letters, by Hon. Claud Vivian [1808–9 -and 1813–14]. London, 1897.</p> - -<p>11th Light Dragoons. Farmer, G. “The Light Dragoon,” the -story of Geo. Farmer, 11th Light Dragoons, ed. Rev. G. R. -Gleig [1811 and Waterloo]. London, 1844.</p> - -<p>14th Light Dragoons. Hawker, Peter. Journal of the Campaign of -1809, by Lieut.-Col. Hawker, 14th Light Dragoons. London, 1810.</p> - -<p>——. Reminiscences of 1811–12 by Cornet Francis Hall. In -<cite>Journal United Service Institution</cite> for 1912.</p> - -<p>16th Light Dragoons. Hay, W. Reminiscences under Wellington, -1808–15, by Captain William Hay, 52nd Foot and 16th Light -Dragoons. London, 1901.</p> - -<p>——. Tomkinson, W. The Diary of a Cavalry Officer in the -Peninsular and Waterloo Campaigns, 1809–15. London, 1894.</p> - -<p>18th Hussars. Woodberry, G. Journal of Lieutenant Woodberry -in the Campaigns of 1813–15. Paris, 1896.</p> - -<p>20th Light Dragoons. Landsheit (N.). The Hussar: the story of -Norbert Landsheit, Sergeant in the York Hussars and the 20th -Light Dragoons, ed. Rev. G. R. Gleig. London, 1837.</p> - -<p>Anonymous. Jottings from my Sabretache, by a Chelsea Pensioner -[Campaigns of 1813–14]. London, 1847.</p> - -<p>——. Personal Narrative of Adventures in the Peninsular War, -1812–13, by an Officer in the Staff Corps Cavalry. London, 1827.</p></blockquote> - -<h4>(<i>b</i>) <span class="smcap">Infantry.</span></h4> - -<blockquote> - -<p>1st Foot Guards. Batty, R. The Campaign in the Pyrenees and -Southern France, 1813–14, by Captain Robert Batty, 1st Foot -Guards. <i>Illustrated.</i> London, 1823.</p> - -<p>2nd Foot Guards. Stepney, S. C. Leaves from the Diary of an -Officer of the Guard, Sketches of Campaigning Life, by Lieut.-Col. -S. Cowell Stepney, K.H., Coldstream Guards [Campaigns of -1810–12]. London, 1854.</p> - -<p>3rd Foot Guards. Stevenson, J. Twenty-One Years in the British -Foot Guards, by John Stevenson, 3rd Foot Guards, sixteen -years a non-commissioned officer, forty years a Wesleyan class-leader -[Campaigns of 1809–11]. London, 1830.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_378">378</span> -3rd Foot Guards. Stothert, W. Journal of the Campaigns of -1809–11, by Captain William Stothert, 3rd Foot Guards. -London, 1812.</p> - -<p>3rd Foot (the Buffs). Reminiscences of a Veteran, being Personal -and Military Adventures in the Peninsula, etc., by Lieut.-Gen. -T. Bunbury [only 1808–9 in the Buffs]. London, 1861.</p> - -<p>5th Foot. Morley, S. Memoirs of a Sergeant of the 5th Regiment, -by Sergeant Stephen Morley, 5th Foot [Campaigns of 1808–11]. -Ashford, 1842.</p> - -<p>7th Foot. Cooper, J. S. Rough Notes of Seven Campaigns in -Portugal, etc., by John Spenser Cooper, Sergeant 7th Royal -Fusiliers. Carlisle, 1869.</p> - -<p>——. Knowles, R. Letters of Lieut. Robert Knowles, 7th -Fusiliers, during the Campaigns of 1811–13, ed. by Sir Lees -Knowles, Bart. Bolton, 1909.</p> - -<p>9th Foot. Hale, J. Journal of James Hale, late Sergeant 9th -Foot [1808–14]. Cirencester, 1826.</p> - -<p>20th Foot. Steevens, C. Reminiscences of Col. Chas. Steevens, -1795–1818 [Campaigns of 1808 and 1813–14]. Winchester, -1878.</p> - -<p>24th Foot. Tidy, C. Recollections of an Old Soldier, a Biographical -Sketch of the Late Col. Tidy, C.B., 24th Regt. [1808]. London, -1849.</p> - -<p>28th Foot. Cadell, C. Narrative of the Campaigns of the 28th -Regt. from 1802 to 1832, by Col. Chas. Cadell [1809–1814]. -London, 1835.</p> - -<p>——. Blakeney, R. Services, Adventures, and Experiences -of Capt. Robert Blakeney, “A Boy in the Peninsular War,” -edited by Julian Sturgis [1808–14]. London, 1899.</p> - -<p>29th Foot. Leslie. Journal during the Peninsular War, etc., of -Colonel Leslie of Balquain [1809–14]. Aberdeen, 1887.</p> - -<p>——. Leith Hay, A. A Narrative of the Peninsular War, by Sir -Andrew Leith Hay (personal adventures, first with the 29th, -then as Aide-de-Camp to General Leith). London, 1839.</p> - -<p>31st Foot. L’Estrange, G. Recollections of Sir George L’Estrange, -1812–14. London, 1873.</p> - -<p>32nd Foot. Ross-Lewin, H. Life of a Soldier, a Narrative of 27 -years’ service in various parts of the World, by a Field -Officer [Major H. Ross-Lewin] [1808–14]. 2 vols. London, -1834.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_379">379</span> -34th Foot. Bell, G. Rough Notes by an Old Soldier, during Fifty -Years’ Service, from Ensign to Major-General. 2 vols. [Campaigns -of 1811–14]. London, 1867.</p> - -<p>40th Foot. Lawrence, W. The Autobiography of Sergeant Wm. -Lawrence, 40th Regt., ed. by G. N. Banks [Campaigns of -1808–14]. London, 1901.</p> - -<p>42nd Foot. Anton, J. Retrospect of a Military Life, during the -most Eventful Period of the late War, by James Anton, Quartermaster-Sergeant, -42nd Highlanders [1813–14]. Edinburgh, -1841.</p> - -<p>——. Malcolm, J. Reminiscences of the Campaign in the -Pyrenees and the South of France in 1813–14, by John Malcolm, -Lieut. 42nd Foot: in Constable’s <cite>Memorials of the Late Wars</cite>. -Edinburgh, 1828.</p> - -<p>——. Anon. Personal Narrative of a Private Soldier who -served in the 42nd Highlanders for Twelve Years [1808–9 and -1811–14]. 1821.</p> - -<p>43rd Foot. Cooke, J. H. Memoir of the late War, a Personal -Narrative of Captain J. H. Cooke, 43rd Light Infantry [Campaigns -of 1811–14]. London, 1831.</p> - -<p>——. ——. A Narrative of Events in the South of France and -America, 1814–15 [continuation of the above]. London, 1835.</p> - -<p>——. Napier, Geo. The Early Military Life of Gen. Sir Geo. -Napier, K.C.B., written by himself. London, 1886.</p> - -<p>——. Anon. Memoirs of a Sergeant late of the 43rd Light -Infantry, previously to and during the Peninsular War, including -the account of his Conversion from Popery to the Protestant -Religion. London, 1835.</p> - -<p>47th Foot. Harley, J. The Veteran, or Forty Years in the British -Service, by Capt. John Harley, late Paymaster 47th Regt. -[Campaigns of 1811–14]. London, 1838.</p> - -<p>48th Foot. Moyle Sherer, G. Recollections of the Peninsula, by -Col. G. Moyle Sherer [Campaigns of 1809–13]. London, -1823.</p> - -<p>50th Foot. MacCarthy, J. The Storm of Badajoz, with a Note on -the Battle of Corunna, by J. MacCarthy, late 50th Regt. -London, 1836.</p> - -<p>——. Napier, Chas. Life and Opinions of Sir Charles James -Napier, by Sir William Napier [First vol. for the 50th at -Corunna, etc.]. London, 1857.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_380">380</span> -50th Foot. Patterson, J. Adventures of Captain John Patterson, -with Notices of the Officers of the 50th Queen’s Regiment, -1807–21. London, 1837.</p> - -<p>——. Patterson, J. Camp and Quarters, Scenes and Impressions -of Military Life by the same Author. London, 1843.</p> - -<p>51st Foot. Wheeler, W. Journal from the year 1809 to 1816 by -William Wheeler, a Soldier of the 51st or King’s Own Light -Infantry. Corfu, 1824.</p> - -<p>52nd Foot. Hay, W. Reminiscences under Wellington, 1808–15, -by Captain William Hay, 52nd Foot and 16th Light Dragoons. -London, 1901.</p> - -<p>——. Seaton (Lord). Life and Letters of Sir John Colborne -[Lord Seaton], ed. by G. C. Moore-Smith. London, 1903.</p> - -<p>66th Foot. Henry, W. Events of a Military Life, being Recollections -of the Service in the Peninsula, etc., of Walter Henry, -Surgeon, 66th Regt. [Campaign of 1812–14]. London, -1843.</p> - -<p>68th Foot. Green, J. Vicissitudes of a Soldier’s Life, by John -Green, late of the 68th Durham Light Infantry. Louth, -1827.</p> - -<p>71st Foot. Anon. Vicissitudes in the Life of a Scottish Soldier, -1808 to 1815, including some particulars of the Battle of -Waterloo. London, 1827.</p> - -<p>——. Anon, TS. Journal of T. S. of the 71st Highland Light -Infantry, in <cite>Memorials of the Late Wars</cite> [ed. Constable]. -Edinburgh, 1828.</p> - -<p>82nd Foot. Wood, G. The Subaltern Officer, a Narrative by -Captain Geo. Wood of the 82nd Prince of Wales’s Volunteers -[1808 and 1813–14]. London, 1825.</p> - -<p>85th Foot. Gleig, G. R. The Subaltern [Campaigns in the Pyrenees -and South of France, 1813–14], by G. R. Gleig, 85th Foot. -London, 1823.</p> - -<p>87th Foot. Gough [Lord]. See Letters 1809–14 in R. S. Rait’s <cite>Life -of Lord Gough</cite>.</p> - -<p>88th Foot. Grattan, W. Adventures with the Connaught Rangers, -1804–14, by Lieut. Wm. Grattan. London, 1847.</p> - -<p>——. ——. Second series of Reminiscences. London, 1853.</p> - -<p>92nd Foot. Hope, J. Military Memoirs of an Infantry Officer, -1809–16 [Lieut. Jas. Hope, 92nd Highlanders]. London, -1833.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_381">381</span> -92nd Foot. Anon. Letters from Portugal, etc., during the Campaigns -of 1811–14 by a British Officer [92nd Gordon Highlanders]. -London, 1819.</p> - -<p>——. Robertson, D. Journal of Sergeant D. Robertson, late -92nd Highlanders, during the Campaigns between 1797 and 1818. -Perth, 1842.</p> - -<p>94th Foot. Donaldson, J. Recollection of an Eventful Life, chiefly -passed in the Army, by Joseph Donaldson, Sergeant 94th -Scotch Brigade [1809–14]. London, 1825.</p> - -<p>95th [Rifle Brigade]. Costello, E. Memoirs of Edward Costello of -the Rifle Brigade, comprising narratives of Wellington’s -Campaigns in the Peninsula, etc. London, 1857.</p> - -<p>——. Fernyhough, R. Military Memoirs of Four Brothers, by the -survivor, Lieut. R. Fernyhough, Rifle Brigade. London, -1829.</p> - -<p>——. Green, W. A brief Outline of the Travels and Adventures -of Wm. Green, Bugler, Rifle Brigade, during a period of ten -years, 1802–12. Coventry, 1857.</p> - -<p>——. Harris. Recollections of Rifleman Harris, ed. by Capt. -Curling [1808–09]. London, 1848.</p> - -<p>——. Kincaid, J. Adventures in the Rifle Brigade, in the -Peninsula, France, and the Netherlands, 1810–15, by Captain -Sir John Kincaid. London, 1830.</p> - -<p>——. ——. Random Shots from a Rifleman [Miscellaneous Anecdotes]. -London, 1835.</p> - -<p>——. Leach, J. Rough Sketches of the Life of an Old Soldier, -during a service in the West Indies, the Peninsula, etc. [1808–14], -London, 1831.</p> - -<p>——. ——. Rambles on the Banks of Styx [Peninsular -Reminiscences], by the same author. London, 1847.</p> - -<p>——. Simmons, G. A British Rifleman: Journals and Correspondence -of Major Geo. Simmons (95th) during the Peninsular -War, etc., ed. Col. Willoughby Verner. London, 1899.</p> - -<p>——. Smith, H. The Autobiography of General Sir Harry Smith -[vol. i. contains Peninsular Memoirs], ed. G. Moore Smith. -London, 1901.</p> - -<p>——. Surtees, W. Twenty-five Years in the Rifle Brigade, by -Wm. Surtees, Quartermaster [1808, 1811–14]. London, -1833.</p></blockquote> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_382">382</span></p> - -<h3>III. ARTILLERY.</h3> - -<blockquote> - -<p>Dickson, Alex. The Dickson Papers, Diaries and Correspondence -of Major-General Sir Alexander Dickson, G.C.B. Series 1809–18. -ed. by Major John Leslie, R.A. 2 vols. Woolwich, 1908–12.</p> - -<p>Frazer, A. S. Letters of Sir Augustus Simon Frazer, K.C.B., Commanding -Royal Horse Artillery under Wellington, written -during the Peninsular Campaigns. London, 1859.</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>[See also numerous short Journals and Series of Letters in the -Journal of the Royal Artillery Institution, Woolwich, in recent -years, Swabey, Ingilby, Downman, etc.]</p></blockquote> -</blockquote> - -<h3>IV. ENGINEERS.</h3> - -<blockquote> - -<p>Burgoyne, J. F. Life and Correspondence of Sir John Fox Burgoyne, -ed. Hon. Geo. Wrottesley. London, 1873.</p> - -<p>Boothby, C. Under England’s Flag, 1804–9, Memoirs, Diary, and -Correspondence of Captain C. Boothby, R.E. [Corunna Campaign]. -London, 1900.</p> - -<p>——. A Prisoner of France, by the same [Oporto and Talavera -Campaigns]. London, 1898.</p> - -<p>Landmann, G. T. Recollections of Military Life, 1806–8 [Vimeiro -Campaign], by Colonel Geo. Landmann, R.E. London, 1854.</p></blockquote> - -<h3>V. TRAIN AND COMMISSARIAT.</h3> - -<blockquote> - -<p>Dallas, A. Autobiography of the Rev. Alexander Dallas, including -his service in the Peninsula [1811–14] in the Commissariat -Department. London, 1870.</p> - -<p>Chesterton, G. L. Peace, War, and Adventure, an Autobiography -by George Laval Chesterton [vol. i. contains service in Catalonia -1812–14]. London, 1853.</p> - -<p>Graham, W. Travels in Portugal and Spain, 1812–14, by William -Graham of the Commissariat Department. London, 1820.</p> - -<p>Head, F. Memoirs of an Assistant-Commissary-General (in the -Peninsular War), by Gen. F. Head. London, 1840.</p> - -<p>Hennegan, R. D. Seven Years in the Peninsula and the Netherlands, -by Sir Richard D. Hennegan, of the Field Train [Campaigns of -1808–14]. London, 1846.</p></blockquote> - -<h3>VI. MEDICAL DEPARTMENT.</h3> - -<blockquote> - -<p>Henry, W. Events of a Military Life, Recollections of the Peninsular -War, etc., by Surgeon Walter Henry, 66th Regt. London, 1843.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_383">383</span> -McGrigor, J. The Autobiography and Services of Sir Jas. McGrigor. -Bart., late Director General of the Medical Department -[1812–14]. London, 1861.</p> - -<p>Neale, A. Letters from Portugal and Spain [Vimeiro and Corunna], -by Adam Neale, M.D. London, 1809.</p></blockquote> - -<h3>VII. WORKS BY CHAPLAINS.</h3> - -<blockquote> - -<p>Bradford, W. Sketches of the Country, Character, and Costume in -Portugal and Spain, 1808–9, by Rev. Wm. Bradford, Chaplain -of Brigade. 40 coloured plates. London, 1810.</p> - -<p>Ormsby, J. W. Operations of the British Army in Portugal and -Spain, 1808–9, by Rev. Jas. Wilmot Ormsby, with appendices, -etc. London, 1809.</p></blockquote> - -<h3>VIII. OFFICERS IN THE KING’S GERMAN LEGION.</h3> - -<blockquote> - -<p>Hartmann, Sir Julius, Ein Lebenskizze, 1808–15. Berlin, 1901.</p> - -<p>Ompteda, Baron, C. Memoir and Letters of Baron Christian Ompteda, -Colonel in the King’s German Legion [Campaigns of 1812–14]. -London, 1894.</p> - -<p>Anon. Journal of an Officer of the King’s German Legion, 1803–16. -London, 1827.</p></blockquote> - -<h3>IX. WORKS BY OFFICERS IN THE PORTUGUESE SERVICE.</h3> - -<blockquote> - -<p>Blakiston, J. Twelve Years’ Military Adventure, in three Quarters -of the Globe [by Major John Blakiston], 1813–14, with the -Portuguese Caçadores. 1829.</p> - -<p>Bunbury, T. Reminiscences of a Veteran, Personal and Military -Adventures in the Peninsula, etc. [1810–14 with the 20th -Portuguese Line]. 1861.</p> - -<p>Madden, G., Services of, 1809–13, by a Friend. London, 1815.</p> - -<p>Mayne, R., and Lillie, J. W. The Loyal Lusitanian Legion, 1808–10. -London, 1812.</p> - -<p>Warre, G. Letters, 1808–12, of Sir George Warre [of the Portuguese -Staff], ed. by Rev. E. Warre, D.D. London, 1909.</p></blockquote> - -<h3>X. OFFICERS IN THE SPANISH SERVICE.</h3> - -<blockquote> - -<p>Whittingham, Sir S. Memoir [and Correspondence] of Lieut.-Gen. -Sir Samuel Ford Whittingham. London, 1868.</p></blockquote> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"><div class="footnotes"> -<h2 id="FOOTNOTES" class="nobreak p1">FOOTNOTES</h2> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn1"><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> John Shipp’s is the only book from the ranks which has been -reprinted within the last ten years, I believe. Mr. Fitchett reproduced -a few chapters of Anton and others in his rather disappointing -<cite>Wellington’s Men</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn1"><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> Kincaid, <cite>Random Shots from a Rifleman</cite>, p. 8.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn1"><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> This was Woodberry of the 18th Hussars.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn1"><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> <cite>Sir William Gomm’s Life</cite>, p. 31.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn1"><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> See his curious dispatch from Cartaxo dated February 6th, -1811, concerning preaching officers.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn1"><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> He describes himself as “rolling on the floor like one distracted, -with the pains of hell getting hold, and hope seeming to be for ever -shut out of my mind.”—<cite>Surtees</cite>, p. 172.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn1"><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> He calls his little book <cite>Memoir of a Sergeant late of the 43rd -Light Infantry, previously to and during the Peninsular War, including -an account of his Conversion from Popery to the Protestant Religion</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn1"><a id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> John Stevenson of the Scots Fusilier Guards.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn1"><a id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> <cite>Life of Sir W. Napier</cite>, i. 235, 236.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> <cite>Dispatches</cite>, vii. p. 559.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> <i>Ibid.</i> vi. p. 485.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> This preposterous remark may be found on p. 28 of vol. vi.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> Only printed in 1894.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> Edited by Col. Willoughby Verner.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> Published 1881. Invaluable as a private record for the staff.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> Edited by his kinsman, the present Provost of Eton.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17" class="fnanchor">17</a> Larpent was a lawyer who acted as Wellington’s Judge Advocate.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_18" href="#FNanchor_18" class="fnanchor">18</a> It is hardly necessary to mention Jones’s slight Sketch (1818) -or Goddard’s mass of undigested contemporary material (1814).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_19" href="#FNanchor_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> <cite>Journal</cite> in Girod de l’Ain, p. 98.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_20" href="#FNanchor_20" class="fnanchor">20</a> His well-written two volumes (issued 1829) are said to have -been very largely the work of his aide-de-camp, St. Cyr-Nugues.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_21" href="#FNanchor_21" class="fnanchor">21</a> Vacani’s Italian general history of the war is very slight on the -English side, being mainly devoted to the doings of the Italians in -Catalonia.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_22" href="#FNanchor_22" class="fnanchor">22</a> Published under the rather romantic title of <cite>A Boy in the -Peninsular War</cite> (which suggests a work of fiction), by Julian Corbett, -in 1899.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_23" href="#FNanchor_23" class="fnanchor">23</a> Published in the <cite>Revue Hispanique</cite> in 1907.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_24" href="#FNanchor_24" class="fnanchor">24</a> See p. <a href="#Page_7">7</a>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_25" href="#FNanchor_25" class="fnanchor">25</a> Published 1831. A first-rate authority for Rifle Brigade and -Light Division matters.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_26" href="#FNanchor_26" class="fnanchor">26</a> Of the 29th Regt. Published only in 1887.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_27" href="#FNanchor_27" class="fnanchor">27</a> Published 1867.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_28" href="#FNanchor_28" class="fnanchor">28</a> Not to be confused with Sir <em>George</em> Bell.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_29" href="#FNanchor_29" class="fnanchor">29</a> See for a dissection and disproof of this story Ropes’s <cite>Waterloo</cite>, -pp. 238–242, 3rd edition. Mr. Horsburgh (p. 138) and others accept -the story. But despite Lady Shelley’s note it is really incredible.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_30" href="#FNanchor_30" class="fnanchor">30</a> For a dissection of Marbot’s blunders see the essay on his -methods in Holland Rose’s <cite>Pitt and Napoleon</cite>, pp. 156–166.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_31" href="#FNanchor_31" class="fnanchor">31</a> Blakeney wrote about 1835, at Paxos in the Ionian Isles; -Smith in 1844, in India; Kincaid in 1847.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_32" href="#FNanchor_32" class="fnanchor">32</a> His extraordinarily vivid narrative of the fortunes of Browne’s -provisional battalion at Barrosa conflicts in detail with contemporary -evidence which there is no reason to doubt, <i>e.g.</i> as to the numbers of -the battalion, and as to the exact behaviour of General Whittingham.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_33" href="#FNanchor_33" class="fnanchor">33</a> A strong case is that of the sergeant of the 43rd, mentioned -above, on p. 7, who lets in scraps of Napier into his patchwork -with the most unhappy effect.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_34" href="#FNanchor_34" class="fnanchor">34</a> But only published by Constable & Co. in 1828. For more of -his story, see the chapter on “The Rank and File.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_35" href="#FNanchor_35" class="fnanchor">35</a> Sergeant Lawrence’s <cite>Autobiography</cite> was not published till -1886. Cooper’s <cite>Seven Campaigns in Portugal</cite>, etc., came out in -1869.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_36" href="#FNanchor_36" class="fnanchor">36</a> Only printed quite lately in the <cite>Revue Hispanique</cite> for 1907.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_37" href="#FNanchor_37" class="fnanchor">37</a> Hanover, 1907, 2 vols.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_38" href="#FNanchor_38" class="fnanchor">38</a> Published at Lisbon in 4 vols., 1862–80.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_39" href="#FNanchor_39" class="fnanchor">39</a> His book is called <cite>Reminiscences of a Veteran</cite>, and was published -so late as 1861.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_40" href="#FNanchor_40" class="fnanchor">40</a> <cite>Twelve Years of Military Adventure</cite>, published 1829.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_41" href="#FNanchor_41" class="fnanchor">41</a> Published in 1880.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_42" href="#FNanchor_42" class="fnanchor">42</a> Published 1835, 2 vols.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_43" href="#FNanchor_43" class="fnanchor">43</a> Published 1845.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_44" href="#FNanchor_44" class="fnanchor">44</a> Two vols., published 1856.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_45" href="#FNanchor_45" class="fnanchor">45</a> By D. Beresford-Pack, 1905.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_46" href="#FNanchor_46" class="fnanchor">46</a> By Hon. Claud Vivian, 1897.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_47" href="#FNanchor_47" class="fnanchor">47</a> Two vols., 1904.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_48" href="#FNanchor_48" class="fnanchor">48</a> <i>E.g.</i> the cavalry general Long, who was writing in the spring -of 1810 that “the next campaign in the Peninsula will close the -eventful scene in the Peninsula, as far as we are concerned. I am -strongly of opinion that neither ‘Marshal’ Wellington nor ‘Marshal’ -Beresford will prevent the approaching subjugation of Portugal.” -And, again, “Wellington, I suspect, feels himself tottering on his -throne, and wishes to conciliate at any sacrifice.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_49" href="#FNanchor_49" class="fnanchor">49</a> Kincaid, chap. v., May, 1811.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_50" href="#FNanchor_50" class="fnanchor">50</a> Cooke’s <cite>Narrative of events in the South of France</cite>, pp. 47, 48.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_51" href="#FNanchor_51" class="fnanchor">51</a> Stanhope’s <cite>Conversations with the Duke of Wellington</cite>, p. 14.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_52" href="#FNanchor_52" class="fnanchor">52</a> For a curious instance of this sort in the 92nd, see Hope’s -<cite>Military Memoirs of an Infantry Officer</cite>, pp. 449–451. Cf. Sir George -Napier’s <cite>Autobiography</cite>, pp. 125–128.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_53" href="#FNanchor_53" class="fnanchor">53</a> Gronow’s <cite>Recollections</cite>, p. 66.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_54" href="#FNanchor_54" class="fnanchor">54</a> McGrigor’s <cite>Autobiography</cite>, pp. 304, 305.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_55" href="#FNanchor_55" class="fnanchor">55</a> When sending him to command in India.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_56" href="#FNanchor_56" class="fnanchor">56</a> These two letters are in the Rice-Jones Correspondence (this -R.E. officer is not to be confounded with Sir John Jones, the historian), -lent to me by Hon. Henry Shore of Mount Elton, Clevedon.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_57" href="#FNanchor_57" class="fnanchor">57</a> See <cite>Colborne’s Life and Letters</cite>, ed. Moore Smith, pp. 126, 127; -235, 236.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_58" href="#FNanchor_58" class="fnanchor">58</a> <cite>Napier</cite>, vi. p. 175.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_59" href="#FNanchor_59" class="fnanchor">59</a> <cite>Grattan</cite>, p. 332.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_60" href="#FNanchor_60" class="fnanchor">60</a> The memorandum is on pp. 261–263 of vol. iv. of Wellington’s -Dispatches.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_61" href="#FNanchor_61" class="fnanchor">61</a> <cite>Dispatches</cite>, vol. v. pp. 123, 124.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_62" href="#FNanchor_62" class="fnanchor">62</a> For an interesting chapter on the adventures of Colquhoun -Grant see the autobiography of his brother-in-law, Sir J. McGrigor.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_63" href="#FNanchor_63" class="fnanchor">63</a> Stanhope’s <cite>Conversations with the Duke of Wellington</cite>, p. 19.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_64" href="#FNanchor_64" class="fnanchor">64</a> Foy’s diary in Girod de l’Ain, p. 178.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_65" href="#FNanchor_65" class="fnanchor">65</a> For an analysis of the controversy, see Dumolin’s preface to his -<cite>Précis des Guerres de la Révolution</cite>, and compare Colin’s <cite>Education -Militaire de Napoleon</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_66" href="#FNanchor_66" class="fnanchor">66</a> See especially the record of the great English and Austrian -charges against French infantry at Villers-en-Cauchies, Beaumont, -and Willems (Fortescue’s <cite>British Army</cite>, lv. 240–56).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_67" href="#FNanchor_67" class="fnanchor">67</a> The French battalion then comprising nine companies, of -which one, the Voltigeur company, would not be in the column.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_68" href="#FNanchor_68" class="fnanchor">68</a> From an essay entitled <cite>Character of the Armies of the various -European Powers</cite>, in a collection called <cite>Essays on the Theory and -Practice of the Art of War</cite>. 3 vols. London: Philips & Co.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_69" href="#FNanchor_69" class="fnanchor">69</a> Though Marshal Broglie had used something like an approach -to permanent divisions in the Seven Years’ War: see Colin’s <cite>Transformations -de la Guerre</cite>, p. 97.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_70" href="#FNanchor_70" class="fnanchor">70</a> Colin quotes as bad examples of French armies coming on the -field dispersedly, without the proper timing and co-operation, -Wattignies, Neresheim (1796), and all Moreau’s operations beyond -the Rhine in that year from Rastadt to Ettlingen (<cite>Transformations -de la Guerre</cite>, p. 99).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_71" href="#FNanchor_71" class="fnanchor">71</a> See Dumolin’s <cite>Précis d’Histoire Militaire</cite>, x. p. 263, and -Colin’s <cite>Tactique et Discipline</cite>, p. lxxxv.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_72" href="#FNanchor_72" class="fnanchor">72</a> At Arcola Augereau’s division attacked the bridge over a -raised road passing over a dyke only 30 feet broad, with marshes on -each side. There were three regiments, one behind the other. -Cohorn’s column at Ebersburg was not so deep, only a brigade. -But it had to defile over a bridge 200 yards long.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_73" href="#FNanchor_73" class="fnanchor">73</a> <i>E.g.</i>: this was the formation of the 3rd corps at Lützen, see -Fabry, <cite>Journal des 3<sup>me</sup> et 5<sup>me</sup> Corps en 1813</cite>, p. 7.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_74" href="#FNanchor_74" class="fnanchor">74</a> Foy’s <cite>Vie Militaire</cite>, ed. Girod de l’Ain, p. 107.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_75" href="#FNanchor_75" class="fnanchor">75</a> Habitually but not invariably: <i>e.g.</i> for a use of eight skirmishing -companies from five battalions at Villamuriel in Oct. 12, by Maucune, -see Béchaud’s <cite>Journal</cite>, pp. 406–7, in <cite>Études Napoléoniemes</cite> I.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_76" href="#FNanchor_76" class="fnanchor">76</a> Sir James Sinclair in his <cite>Observations on the Military System of -Great Britain, so far as respects the formation of Infantry</cite>, deals with -this idea at great length, and proposes to have 160 skirmishers to each -battalion of 640 men.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_77" href="#FNanchor_77" class="fnanchor">77</a> See Fortescue, <cite>British Army</cite>, iv. p. 921.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_78" href="#FNanchor_78" class="fnanchor">78</a> See the anecdote of the 28th regiment at Alexandria, whose -rear rank faced about, and fought back-to-back with the front -rank, when unexpectedly assailed from behind by French cavalry -which had passed through a gap in the line. Hence the grant of the -double shako-plate, before and behind, made to the regiment.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_79" href="#FNanchor_79" class="fnanchor">79</a> Till lately I had supposed that Reynier had at least his left -wing, or striking <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">échelon</i>, in columns of battalions, but evidence -shown me by Col. James proves that, despite of the fact that the -French narratives do not show it, the majority at least of Reynier’s -men were deployed. This is borne out by Bunbury’s narrative, -p. 244, where it is definitely stated, as well as by Boothby’s, p. 78.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_80" href="#FNanchor_80" class="fnanchor">80</a> Those of Reynier. See my <cite>Peninsular War</cite>, Bussaco chapter.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_81" href="#FNanchor_81" class="fnanchor">81</a> See Stanhope’s <cite>Conversations with the Duke of Wellington</cite>, p. 109.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_82" href="#FNanchor_82" class="fnanchor">82</a> The phrase comes from the <cite>De Ros Manuscript</cite>, quoted in -Maxwell’s <cite>Life of Wellington</cite>, ii. p. 20.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_83" href="#FNanchor_83" class="fnanchor">83</a> Foy’s <cite>Vie Militaire</cite>, ed. Girod de l’Ain, pp. 270, 271.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_84" href="#FNanchor_84" class="fnanchor">84</a> Donkin’s Brigade, Wellington’s last reserve, which was never -engaged with infantry all day, lost 195 men without firing a shot—save -by its skirmishers.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_85" href="#FNanchor_85" class="fnanchor">85</a> See Fortescue, iv. p. 841.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_86" href="#FNanchor_86" class="fnanchor">86</a> The interesting circular to Brigadiers conveying this information -runs, “The Commander of the Forces recommends the companies -of the 5/60th regiment to the particular care of the officers -commanding the brigades to which they are attached: they will -find them to be most useful, active, and brave troops in the field, -and they will add essentially to the strength of their brigades.”—<cite>General -Orders</cite>, p. 262.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_87" href="#FNanchor_87" class="fnanchor">87</a> These “independent rifle companies” of the K.G.L., which -appear in so many “morning states,” were isolated men left behind -(mainly, no doubt, in hospital) by the two “Light Battalions” of -the K.G.L. when they left Portugal in company with Sir John Moore.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_88" href="#FNanchor_88" class="fnanchor">88</a> To descend into detail, in May, 1811, the 5/60th supplied light -companies to Stopford’s, Nightingale’s, Mackinnon’s (3 companies), -Myers’, Hulse’s, Colborne’s, Hoghton’s, and Abercrombie’s brigades. -The Brunswick Oels Jägers supplied the extra company to Hay’s -and Dunlop’s brigades, while the rest of the battalion was in Sontag’s -brigade. The 3/95th gave a company to Howard’s brigade, while the -other battalions of this famous rifle corps were in the two brigades of -the Light Division. The German brigade of Löwe had its own “independent -light companies.” Only Colville’s and Burne’s brigades had -no such provision in the whole army.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_89" href="#FNanchor_89" class="fnanchor">89</a> Save in Hamilton’s Portuguese division, which did not get -its Caçador battalions till 1812.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_90" href="#FNanchor_90" class="fnanchor">90</a> In 1811 of the armies opposed to Wellington (Soult’s and -Marmont’s) there was one division of 6 battalions, one of 9, two of -10, one of 11, seven of 12, one of 13. The battalions varied from 400 -apiece in the 5th corps to over 600 in the 1st corps. The average -was about 500, not including men detached or in hospital. A <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">voltigeur</i> -company would have varied between 80 and 110 men.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_91" href="#FNanchor_91" class="fnanchor">91</a> Note especially Vigo-Roussillon’s account of Barrosa, where -he speaks of his regiment having pierced the first British line, when -all that it really did was to thrust back four companies of the 95th -rifles, and two of the 20th Portuguese. Similarly Reynier’s report -on Bussaco says that Merle’s division broke the front line of Picton, -and only failed before his second. But the “front line” was only -five light companies.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_92" href="#FNanchor_92" class="fnanchor">92</a> Wellington to Beresford, <cite>Dispatches</cite>, vii. p. 427.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_93" href="#FNanchor_93" class="fnanchor">93</a> If the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre mixte</i> was formed by a regiment of three battalions -of 600 men each, only 634 men out of 1800 were in the front two ranks. -If by a regiment of four battalions (two deployed, two in column in -the flanks), the slightly better result of 1034 men out of 2400 able to -use their muskets would be produced.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_94" href="#FNanchor_94" class="fnanchor">94</a> This I have from a document in the archives of the Ministry of -War at Paris, which says that “the line of attack was formed by a -brigade in column of attack. To its right and left the front line was -in a mixed formation; that is to say, on each side of the central column -was a battalion deployed in line, and on each of the outer sides of -the deployed battalions was a battalion or regiment in column, -so that at each end the line was composed of a column ready to form -square, in case hostile cavalry should attempt to fall upon one of -our flanks.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_95" href="#FNanchor_95" class="fnanchor">95</a> A phrase used by a French marshal at Bussaco!</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_96" href="#FNanchor_96" class="fnanchor">96</a> Reprinted by General Trochu in his <cite>Armée française en -1867</cite>, pp. 239, 240.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_97" href="#FNanchor_97" class="fnanchor">97</a> See page <a href="#Page_87">87</a> above.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_98" href="#FNanchor_98" class="fnanchor">98</a> For details see below, in the chapter dealing with General -Picton, p. <a href="#Page_134">134</a>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn2"><a id="Footnote_99" href="#FNanchor_99" class="fnanchor">99</a> Though a few depleted regiments also went home, so that the -total strength never was over 18 regiments, 9000 horse or under, to -70,000 men in all. See pages <a href="#Page_192">192–3</a>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_100" href="#FNanchor_100" class="fnanchor">100</a> See <cite>Dispatches</cite>, vol. viii. p. 112.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_101" href="#FNanchor_101" class="fnanchor">101</a> <cite>General Orders</cite> (collected volume), pp. 481, 482.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_102" href="#FNanchor_102" class="fnanchor">102</a> See <a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">Chapter XVIII.</a>, “A note on Sieges.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_103" href="#FNanchor_103" class="fnanchor">103</a> See the Diary of Major Brooke, in <cite>Blackwood</cite> for 1908, p. 448, -which I edited.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_104" href="#FNanchor_104" class="fnanchor">104</a> <cite>Memoirs of Sergeant Donaldson (94th)</cite>, ii. p. 217, and <i>cf.</i> for a -similar story, <cite>Rifleman Harris</cite>, pp. 30, 31.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_105" href="#FNanchor_105" class="fnanchor">105</a> See Sidney’s <cite>Life of Lord Hill</cite>, p. 228.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_106" href="#FNanchor_106" class="fnanchor">106</a> He wanted, he wrote, “to have a place of meeting where they -can enjoy social intercourse combined with economy, and cultivate -old acquaintance formed on service.” Hitherto “officers coming -to town for a short period were driven into expensive and bad -taverns and coffee-houses, without a chance of meeting their friends -or any good society.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_107" href="#FNanchor_107" class="fnanchor">107</a> <cite>Twenty-five Years in the Rifle Brigade</cite>, by Surtees of the -95th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_108" href="#FNanchor_108" class="fnanchor">108</a> Caddell of the 28th, p. 99.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_109" href="#FNanchor_109" class="fnanchor">109</a> Especially Bunbury, Dallas, and Blakeney.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_110" href="#FNanchor_110" class="fnanchor">110</a> “Le général était de haute stature,” says Vigo-Roussillon: -“il avait les cheveux tous blancs, et était encore alerte et très vif, -quoiqu’il avait soixante ans. Sa physionomie noble et ouverte -m’avait inspiré le respect, même sur le champ de bataille.”—<cite>Revue -des deux Mondes</cite>, August, 1891.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_111" href="#FNanchor_111" class="fnanchor">111</a> Stanhope’s <cite>Conversations with Wellington</cite>, p. 69.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_112" href="#FNanchor_112" class="fnanchor">112</a> <cite>Kincaid</cite>, p. 116.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_113" href="#FNanchor_113" class="fnanchor">113</a> That he made the request is definitely stated in Stanhope’s -<cite>Conversations</cite>, p. 69.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_114" href="#FNanchor_114" class="fnanchor">114</a> Grattan’s <cite>Adventures with the Connaught Rangers</cite>, p. 16.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_115" href="#FNanchor_115" class="fnanchor">115</a> <cite>Grattan</cite>, pp. 116, 117.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_116" href="#FNanchor_116" class="fnanchor">116</a> See McCarthy’s <cite>Siege of Badajoz</cite>, p. 35, and Robinson’s <cite>Life of -Picton</cite>, ii. p. 170.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_117" href="#FNanchor_117" class="fnanchor">117</a> McCarthy’s <cite>Siege of Badajoz</cite>, p. 41.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_118" href="#FNanchor_118" class="fnanchor">118</a> Robinson’s <cite>Life of Picton</cite>, ii. p. 390.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_119" href="#FNanchor_119" class="fnanchor">119</a> See especially McCarthy, quoted above, and Macpherson (notes -in <cite>Robinson</cite>, ii. pp. 394–397).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_120" href="#FNanchor_120" class="fnanchor">120</a> Cole’s <cite>Peninsular Generals</cite>, ii. p. 84.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_121" href="#FNanchor_121" class="fnanchor">121</a> His brother, Sir Charles Craufurd, had married the Dowager -Duchess of Newcastle, and as the duke was a minor, his mother and -her husband disposed of the Pelham pocket-boroughs and other -patronage.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_122" href="#FNanchor_122" class="fnanchor">122</a> He was absent on leave from the winter of 1810 till May -1811, and only just rejoined in time for the battle of Fuentes de -Oñoro.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_123" href="#FNanchor_123" class="fnanchor">123</a> All this comes from Shaw-Kennedy’s Diary, which is printed -at length in a most unlikely place,—the Appendix to Lord F. Fitzclarence’s -<cite>Manual of Outpost Duties</cite>, a book of the 1840’s.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_124" href="#FNanchor_124" class="fnanchor">124</a> See <cite>Larpent’s Journal</cite>, p. 85, and Alex. Craufurd’s <cite>Life of -General Robert Craufurd</cite>, pp. 184, 185.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_125" href="#FNanchor_125" class="fnanchor">125</a> William Napier refused to subscribe to a testimonial to Alten -at the end of the war, openly saying that he saw no sufficient merit -in him.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_126" href="#FNanchor_126" class="fnanchor">126</a> For a bitter story of how his brigadiers, Barclay and Beckwith, -spoke of him, see Moore-Smith’s <cite>Life of Colborne</cite>, p. 174. <i>Cf.</i> too -p. 35 of Hay’s <cite>Reminiscences</cite> of 1808–15, for an anecdote of Craufurd’s -occasional snubbing of his officers. <i>Cf.</i> also George Simmond’s -<cite>British Rifleman</cite>, pp. 26, 27.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_127" href="#FNanchor_127" class="fnanchor">127</a> Jan. 20, 1912, in a letter from Colonel Willoughby Verner.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_128" href="#FNanchor_128" class="fnanchor">128</a> See Hay’s <cite>Peninsular Reminiscences, 1808–15</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_129" href="#FNanchor_129" class="fnanchor">129</a> See <cite>Rifleman Harris</cite>, p. 206.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_130" href="#FNanchor_130" class="fnanchor">130</a> Hardinge advised the advance, but it was Cole who, being in -responsible command, ordered and executed it. He it is who should -have the credit both for the resolve and for the tactics.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_131" href="#FNanchor_131" class="fnanchor">131</a> See Wellington to Torrens (the patronage secretary at the Horse -Guards), August 4, 1810.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_132" href="#FNanchor_132" class="fnanchor">132</a> See, <i>e.g.</i>, Wellington, <cite>Dispatches</cite>, vi., under Oct. 4, 1810. -Among the generals whose departure he viewed (for various reasons) -with equanimity, were Sir Robert Wilson, Lightburne, Tilson, and -Nightingale.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_133" href="#FNanchor_133" class="fnanchor">133</a> <i>Minute</i> on p. 572 of the <cite>Collected General Orders</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_134" href="#FNanchor_134" class="fnanchor">134</a> Stewart chafed at his checks, and wrote bitterly to Castlereagh -about the insignificance of his position.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_135" href="#FNanchor_135" class="fnanchor">135</a> See Chapter XVIII. on Sieges, p. <a href="#Page_286">286</a>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_136" href="#FNanchor_136" class="fnanchor">136</a> For special note as to the functions of the “Staff Corps of -Cavalry” raised in March, 1813, see the <cite>General Order</cite> of that date. -This body must be carefully distinguished from the Staff Corps, -concerning which see Fortescue’s <cite>British Army</cite>, iv. p. 881: it was -a kind of subsidiary corps of military artificers, independent of the -Ordnance Office to which “Royal Military Artificers” belonged. -This was a vicious duplication of parallel organizations.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_137" href="#FNanchor_137" class="fnanchor">137</a> <cite>General Order</cite>, Freneda, Nov. 1, 1811.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_138" href="#FNanchor_138" class="fnanchor">138</a> <cite>Private Journal of Judge-Advocate Larpent, 1812–14</cite>, published -London, 1853.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_139" href="#FNanchor_139" class="fnanchor">139</a> Names may suffice to show the class from which they were -drawn: Marquis of Worcester, Lord March, Bathurst, Bouverie, -Burghersh, Canning, Manners, Stanhope, Fremantle, Gordon, -de Burgh, Cadogan, Fitzroy Somerset.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_140" href="#FNanchor_140" class="fnanchor">140</a> See <a href="#Footnote_273">note</a> on page <a href="#Page_270">270</a> of chapter xvi on “Impedimenta.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_141" href="#FNanchor_141" class="fnanchor">141</a> See <cite>General Order</cite> of May 4, 1809.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_142" href="#FNanchor_142" class="fnanchor">142</a> Its most ambitious efforts were a small volume of maps printed -at Cambray, during the occupation of France after Waterloo, with -notes by Col. Carmichael Smith, R.E., and the <cite>General Orders</cite> for -1815, printed at Paris, by Sergeant Buchan, 3rd Guards, head -printer to the Army of Occupation.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_143" href="#FNanchor_143" class="fnanchor">143</a> See, for example, York’s Alkmaar dispatch of Oct. 6, 1799.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_144" href="#FNanchor_144" class="fnanchor">144</a> <i>E.g.</i> in Walsh’s <cite>Expedition to Holland</cite> in 1799, p. 22, the whole -original landing force of the British, 15,000 bayonets, is called the -“first division,” but only in contrast to the troops not yet landed, -not technically.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_145" href="#FNanchor_145" class="fnanchor">145</a> With the exception, of course, that the 1st and 3rd Caçador -battalions served all through the war in the two brigades of the -Light Division.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_146" href="#FNanchor_146" class="fnanchor">146</a> See p. <a href="#Page_83">83</a>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_147" href="#FNanchor_147" class="fnanchor">147</a> 1/43rd, 1/52nd, 1/95th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_148" href="#FNanchor_148" class="fnanchor">148</a> 2/5th, 1/11th, 2/28th, 2/34th, 2/39th, 2/42nd, 2/58th. The -1/40th and 2/24th joined Wellington in time for Talavera.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_149" href="#FNanchor_149" class="fnanchor">149</a> The original British brigade of the 5th division consisted of the -3/1st, 1/9th, and 2/38th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_150" href="#FNanchor_150" class="fnanchor">150</a> The 2/30th and 2/44th, to which the 1/4th was subsequently -added.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_151" href="#FNanchor_151" class="fnanchor">151</a> The name Army-Corps appears first in the Waterloo Campaign -of 1815.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_152" href="#FNanchor_152" class="fnanchor">152</a> The succession of brigadiers seems to have been, in the one -brigade, Pack followed by Wilson and Alex. Campbell; in the other -Bradford continued almost through the whole war, but McMahon -was in command in part of 1811–12. After June, 1811, Ashworth’s -Brigade was regularly attached to the 2nd division.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_153" href="#FNanchor_153" class="fnanchor">153</a> Now no longer wanted, as Leith had received his second -British brigade.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_154" href="#FNanchor_154" class="fnanchor">154</a> 2nd, 1/36th, and (added long months after) the 1/32nd.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_155" href="#FNanchor_155" class="fnanchor">155</a> 1/50th, 1/71st, and 1/92nd.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_156" href="#FNanchor_156" class="fnanchor">156</a> 51st, 85th, with the Chasseurs Britanniques and the Brunswick -Oels Jägers. The 68th joined in July, but the 85th went home in -October.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_157" href="#FNanchor_157" class="fnanchor">157</a> 1st and 2nd Light Battalions, K.G.L., which landed very late, -joined Beresford’s army in Estremadura, and only united with their -proper division in June.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_158" href="#FNanchor_158" class="fnanchor">158</a> See notes on these battalions in the chapter on “<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">The Auxiliaries</a>.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_159" href="#FNanchor_159" class="fnanchor">159</a> After Albuera their nickname was changed to “the Enthusiastics.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_160" href="#FNanchor_160" class="fnanchor">160</a> This happened with the 5th, 28th, 38th, 39th, 42nd. The 2/4th -and 2/52nd came out for a short time, and then discharged their -serviceable men into their 1st battalion, and went home.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_161" href="#FNanchor_161" class="fnanchor">161</a> See p. <a href="#Page_166">166</a>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_162" href="#FNanchor_162" class="fnanchor">162</a> These thirty-seven were the 2nd, 12th, 13th, 16th, 17th, 19th, -20th, 22nd, 29th, 33rd, 37th, 41st, 46th, 49th, 51st, 54th, 55th, 64th, -65th, 68th, 70th, 74th, 75th, 76th, 77th, 80th, 85th, 86th, 93rd, 94th, -and 97th to 103rd.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_163" href="#FNanchor_163" class="fnanchor">163</a> Which were intended for home service only, and were called -the “Army of Reserve.” But ere long they were utilized for general -service.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_164" href="#FNanchor_164" class="fnanchor">164</a> The regiments which raised belated second battalions were the -12th (in 1813), the 22nd (in 1814), the 37th (in 1811), the 41st (in -1814), the 73rd (in 1809), the 86th (in 1814), the 93rd (in 1814). The -95th (in 1809), and the 56th in 1813, raised a <em>third</em> battalion.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_165" href="#FNanchor_165" class="fnanchor">165</a> For all the establishments see Table in Appendix I.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_166" href="#FNanchor_166" class="fnanchor">166</a> This was the case with the 7th, 48th, 52nd and 88th in 1811.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_167" href="#FNanchor_167" class="fnanchor">167</a> The 3rd Hussars, K.G.L., 2/14th, 2/23rd, 2/43rd, 2/81st, never -returned to serve under Wellington in 1809–14.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_168" href="#FNanchor_168" class="fnanchor">168</a> In 1810 the following returned to Portugal 3/1st, 1/4th, 1/9th, -1/50th, 1/71st, 1/79th. In 1811 the following: 2nd, 1/26th, 1/28th, -1/32nd, 1/36th, 51st, 2/52nd, 1st and 2nd Light K.G.L. In 1812 -the following: 1/5th, 1/6th, 20th, 1/38th, 1/42nd, 2/59th, 1/82nd, -1/91st. In 1813 the 7th, 10th, 15th, 18th Hussars, the first and -third battalions of the 1st Foot Guards, and the 76th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_169" href="#FNanchor_169" class="fnanchor">169</a> These were the 1/3rd, 2/9th, 29th, 1/40th, 1/45th, 5/60th, -97th, the 1st, 2nd, 5th, 7th Line Battalions of the K.G.L., and -the 20th Light Dragoons, the last-named incomplete.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_170" href="#FNanchor_170" class="fnanchor">170</a> The regiments which arrived with Wellesley, or before him, -during the spring and the preceding winter of 1808–1809, were -3/27th, 2/31st, and 14th Light Dragoons, during the winter; in -April, 1st Coldstream Guards, 1st Scots Fusilier Guards, 2/7th, -2/30th, 2/48th, 2/53rd, 2/66th, 2/83rd, 2/87th, 1/88th, 16th Light -Dragoons, 3rd Dragoon Guards, 4th Dragoons.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_171" href="#FNanchor_171" class="fnanchor">171</a> Since April there had come out the 23rd Light Dragoons, -1st Hussars, K.G.L., 1/61st, 1/48th, 2/24th; but the 20th Light -Dragoons had been deducted (sent to Sicily), while the 2/9th and -2/30th had been sent back to Lisbon, for passage to Gibraltar. The -net gain, therefore, between April and July was only one cavalry -regiment.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_172" href="#FNanchor_172" class="fnanchor">172</a> To recapitulate again. 1st battalions: 1/3rd, 1/40th, 1/45th, -1/48th, 1/61st, 1/88th. 2nd battalions: 2/7th, 2/31st, 2/24th, -2/48th, 2/53rd, 2/66th, 2/83rd, 2/87th. Other junior battalions: -3/27th (left at Lisbon), 5/60th. Single battalion regiments, 29th, -97th. There were also two “Battalions of Detachments.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_173" href="#FNanchor_173" class="fnanchor">173</a> The strongest battalions at Talavera were 1/3rd Foot Guards -1019, 1st Coldstream 970, 1/48th 807; the weakest were 2/66th 526, -97th 502, 2/83rd 535.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_174" href="#FNanchor_174" class="fnanchor">174</a> Viz. 2/7th, 2/48th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_175" href="#FNanchor_175" class="fnanchor">175</a> 2/24th, 2/31st, 2/53rd, 2/66th. The first battalions of three -of these were in the East Indies, that of the fourth in Sicily.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_176" href="#FNanchor_176" class="fnanchor">176</a> 1/7th, 1/11th, 1/23rd, 1/37th, 1/39th, 1/57th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_177" href="#FNanchor_177" class="fnanchor">177</a> 2/5th, 2/34th, 2/38th, 2/44th, 2/47th, 2/58th, 2/62nd, 2/84th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_178" href="#FNanchor_178" class="fnanchor">178</a> 68th, 74th, 77th, 85th, 94th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_179" href="#FNanchor_179" class="fnanchor">179</a> This was the case with the 2/62nd, 77th, 1/37th, 2/84th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_180" href="#FNanchor_180" class="fnanchor">180</a> The sixth of the units of the provisional battalions being a -single battalion corps, the 2nd Foot or Queen’s.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_181" href="#FNanchor_181" class="fnanchor">181</a> Typical figures are 77th, landed in July 859 of all ranks—had -only 560 present in September. The 68th, landed about the -same time, had 233 sick to 412 effective: the 51st, landed in April, -246 sick to 251 effective! But the 51st had lost men in the second -siege of Badajoz. The other two regiments had not seen much service.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_182" href="#FNanchor_182" class="fnanchor">182</a> Over 14,000 men in October, 1811.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_183" href="#FNanchor_183" class="fnanchor">183</a> Wellington wrote to the Secretary of War (Lord Bathurst), -“I assure you that some of the best battalions with the army are the -provisional battalions. I have lately seen two of these engaged, -that formed of the 2/24th and 2/58th, and that formed from the 2nd -Queen’s and 2/53rd: it is impossible for any troops to behave better. -The same arrangement could now be applied with great advantage -to the 51st and 68th, and also to other regiments” (<cite>Dispatches</cite>, x. -p. 629). There was another “provisional battalion” composed of -the 2/30th and 2/44th for a short time in 1812–13.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_184" href="#FNanchor_184" class="fnanchor">184</a> Probably a year later Wellington would not have allowed the -29th and 97th, both old single battalion regiments sent home after -Albuera, to depart, but would have worked them together as a -“provisional battalion.” He expresses great regret in his private -correspondence at losing two excellent units because they had -fallen to about 250 men each.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_185" href="#FNanchor_185" class="fnanchor">185</a> After Albuera, where they both suffered heavily, the 2nd was -sent home, discharging its serviceable men into the 1st, which was -the first connection with the sister-battalion that it had.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_186" href="#FNanchor_186" class="fnanchor">186</a> Such figures are, however, occasionally found, <i>e.g.</i> the 1/4th -at Bussaco, and the 1/43rd in September, 1811, had over 1000 -of all ranks. So had the 1/42nd at Salamanca.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_187" href="#FNanchor_187" class="fnanchor">187</a> These chanced to be the 1/43rd and the 2/38th respectively. -The two Guards battalions were each just under 900 of all ranks -at this time.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_188" href="#FNanchor_188" class="fnanchor">188</a> 3rd Dragoon Guards, 1st and 4th Dragoons, 14th and 16th -Light Dragoons, 1st Hussars, K.G.L.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_189" href="#FNanchor_189" class="fnanchor">189</a> 13th Light Dragoons.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_190" href="#FNanchor_190" class="fnanchor">190</a> 3rd, 4th, 5th Dragoon Guards; 1st, 3rd, and 4th Dragoons; -9th, 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th, 16th Light Dragoons; 1st and 2nd -Heavy Dragoons, K.G.L.; 1st and 2nd Hussars, K.G.L.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_191" href="#FNanchor_191" class="fnanchor">191</a> Tomkinson in his diary observes (p. 230) that the 11th Light -Dragoons was not in such bad state as the other condemned regiments, -but that their colonel was so senior that he stood in the way -of the promotion of several more capable officers to command -brigades—hence Wellington resolved to get him out of the country.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_192" href="#FNanchor_192" class="fnanchor">192</a> <cite>Dispatches</cite>, vii. p. 58. To Lord Liverpool.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_193" href="#FNanchor_193" class="fnanchor">193</a> 9th and 11th Light Dragoons, 4th Dragoon Guards, 2nd -Hussars, K.G.L.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_194" href="#FNanchor_194" class="fnanchor">194</a> Viz. the 1st Royals, 13th, 14th, and 16th Light Dragoons, and -1st Hussars, K.G.L. See <cite>General Orders</cite>, October 2, 1811.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_195" href="#FNanchor_195" class="fnanchor">195</a> In the Talavera army, taking the general totals, there were -536 lieutenants to 259 ensigns; in the Bussaco army 624 to 237; -in the 1811 army (March) 739 to 323—in each case more than two -to one.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_196" href="#FNanchor_196" class="fnanchor">196</a> Viz. killed, the Brigadier-Gen. Hoghton and one major, -wounded two lieutenant-colonels and two majors.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_197" href="#FNanchor_197" class="fnanchor">197</a> Picton, though wounded in the foot at Badajoz, rode with his -division for some time after it marched from Estremadura for the -North, but the wound getting inflamed he was compelled to go into -hospital, and Wallace had his place for some weeks in June, Pakenham -appearing as divisional commander in July.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_198" href="#FNanchor_198" class="fnanchor">198</a> See the bitter remarks on pp. 367–369 on Blakeney’s Autobiography. -For a number of illustrative anecdotes see Leach’s curious -little book, <cite>Rambles on the Banks of Styx</cite>, which is full of Peninsular -grievances.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_199" href="#FNanchor_199" class="fnanchor">199</a> The allusion is to the obscure business of influence in distributing -commissions said to have been used by the Duke of -York’s mistress, Mrs. Mary Ann Clarke.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_200" href="#FNanchor_200" class="fnanchor">200</a> For more of this pamphlet, see Stocqueler’s <cite>Personal History -of the Horse Guards</cite>, pp. 60–67.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_201" href="#FNanchor_201" class="fnanchor">201</a> For an astounding story of an ensign who had been a billiard-marker -in Dublin, and who was ultimately cashiered for theft, see -Col. Bunbury’s <cite>Reminiscences</cite>, vol. i. pp. 26–28.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_202" href="#FNanchor_202" class="fnanchor">202</a> <cite>Memoirs of Captain George Ellers, 12th Foot</cite>, p. 43.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_203" href="#FNanchor_203" class="fnanchor">203</a> See the instances in <cite>General Orders</cite> for April 23, 1810, and -July 16, 1812.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_204" href="#FNanchor_204" class="fnanchor">204</a> For a good example, see <cite>Dickson Papers</cite>, pp. 622, 623, where -the good Dickson gets one officer to own that he was “betrayed in -a moment of intoxication” into insulting words, and the other to -say that the counter-charge with which he replied was made “in a -moment of great irritation and passion.” The apologies were both -passed as satisfactory.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_205" href="#FNanchor_205" class="fnanchor">205</a> A series of court-martials in one Peninsular battalion shows us -such a picture, with the colonel on one side and the two majors on -the other. The former prosecuted the senior major for embezzlement, -while at the same moment a subaltern was “broke” for -alleging that the junior major had shown cowardice in the field. -The Horse Guards finally dispersed all the officers into different -corps, as the only way of ending the feud.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_206" href="#FNanchor_206" class="fnanchor">206</a> See pp. 121–2 of vol. ii. of Robinson’s <cite>Life of Picton</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_207" href="#FNanchor_207" class="fnanchor">207</a> Letter printed in <cite>Vie Militaire</cite>, <i>ed.</i> Girod de l’Ain, p. 98.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_208" href="#FNanchor_208" class="fnanchor">208</a> See the heading “Lisbon” in the collected volume of <cite>General -Orders</cite>, pp. 206, 207.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_209" href="#FNanchor_209" class="fnanchor">209</a> <cite>General Orders</cite>, Freneda, December 4, 1811. For anecdotes -about this officer’s shirking propensities, see pp. 27–36 of the second -series of Grattan’s <cite>Adventures with the Connaught Rangers</cite>. He was -ultimately cashiered.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_210" href="#FNanchor_210" class="fnanchor">210</a> Gleig’s <cite>Reminiscences of Wellington</cite>, p. 303.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_211" href="#FNanchor_211" class="fnanchor">211</a> <cite>Conversations with Duke of Wellington</cite>, pp. 13 and 18.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_212" href="#FNanchor_212" class="fnanchor">212</a> See, for an instance, pp. <a href="#Page_249">249–50</a>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_213" href="#FNanchor_213" class="fnanchor">213</a> When the 90th was raised in 1794, out of the 746 men 165 -were English and 56 Irish—not much less than a third of the whole. -Cf. Delavoye’s <cite>History of the 90th</cite>, p. 3. In the Waterloo campaign -the 71st had 83 English and 56 Irish in its ranks.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_214" href="#FNanchor_214" class="fnanchor">214</a> Woolwright’s <cite>History of the 77th</cite>, p. 29.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_215" href="#FNanchor_215" class="fnanchor">215</a> Rogerson’s <cite>History of the 53rd</cite>, p. 35.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_216" href="#FNanchor_216" class="fnanchor">216</a> See Fortescue’s <cite>History of the British Army</cite>, vi. pp. 180–183.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_217" href="#FNanchor_217" class="fnanchor">217</a> To quote an interesting explanatory note from the autobiography -of Morris of the 73rd. “The militia would be drawn up in -line, and the officers for the regiments requiring volunteers would -give a glowing description of their several corps, describing the -victories they had gained, and the honours they had acquired, and -conclude by offering the bounty. If these inducements were not -effectual in getting men, coercive measures were adopted: the -militia colonel would put on heavy and long drills and field exercises, -which were so tedious and oppressive that many men would embrace -the alternative, and volunteer for the regulars” (p. 13).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_218" href="#FNanchor_218" class="fnanchor">218</a> A canny Scot makes his explanation for volunteering in a -fashion which combines patriotism, love of adventure, and calculation. -“In the militia I serve secure of life and limb, but with no prospect -of future benefit for old age (pension) to which I may attain. It is -better to hazard both abroad in the regular service, than to have -poverty and hard-labour accompanying me to a peaceful grave at -home.” Anton’s <cite>Retrospect of a Military Life</cite>, p. 39.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_219" href="#FNanchor_219" class="fnanchor">219</a> See the amusing narrative of Lawrence of the 20th and his -two evasions from his stone-mason employer.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_220" href="#FNanchor_220" class="fnanchor">220</a> See Stanhope’s <cite>Conversations with Wellington</cite>, p. 13.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_221" href="#FNanchor_221" class="fnanchor">221</a> Journal of T. S. of the 71st in Constable’s <cite>Memorials of the -Late War</cite>, i. p. 25.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_222" href="#FNanchor_222" class="fnanchor">222</a> Note by Colborne on p. 396 of his <cite>Life</cite> by Moore-Smith.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_223" href="#FNanchor_223" class="fnanchor">223</a> <cite>Rifleman Harris</cite>, pp. 10–16.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_224" href="#FNanchor_224" class="fnanchor">224</a> In the Court-Martials on privates printed in <cite>General Orders</cite>, out -of 280 trials I make out 80 certainly Irish names, and a good many -more probably Irish—while there are only 23 Scots. There were -certainly not four times as many Irish as Scots in the Peninsular -Army, though there were more than twice as many.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_225" href="#FNanchor_225" class="fnanchor">225</a> See also Stanhope’s <cite>Conversations with Wellington</cite>, p. 6.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_226" href="#FNanchor_226" class="fnanchor">226</a> <cite>Twenty-five Years in the Rifle Brigade</cite>, pp. 47, 48.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_227" href="#FNanchor_227" class="fnanchor">227</a> Both court-martialled, of course: see <cite>General Orders</cite>, vol. vii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_228" href="#FNanchor_228" class="fnanchor">228</a> This incident occurs in the unprinted letters of F. Monro, R.A., -lent to me by his kinsfolk of to-day.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_229" href="#FNanchor_229" class="fnanchor">229</a> One of the Duke’s acrid generalizations on this point was “the -non-commissioned officers of the Guards regularly got drunk once -a day, by eight in the evening, and got to bed soon after—but they -always took care to do first what they were bid.”—Stanhope’s <cite>Conversations -with the Duke of Wellington</cite>, p. 18.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_230" href="#FNanchor_230" class="fnanchor">230</a> See Anton’s (42nd, Black Watch) <cite>Retrospect of a Military Life</cite>, -pp. 239, 240.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_231" href="#FNanchor_231" class="fnanchor">231</a> <cite>Retrospect of a Military Life</cite>, pp. 57, 58.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_232" href="#FNanchor_232" class="fnanchor">232</a> <cite>Memoirs of Sergeant Morley, 5th Foot</cite>, p. 101.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_233" href="#FNanchor_233" class="fnanchor">233</a> The survivors in 1809 were the regiments of de Meuron, Rolle, -Dillon, and de Watteville.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_234" href="#FNanchor_234" class="fnanchor">234</a> This proviso was neither submitted to nor approved by the -British Government, who refused to take notice of it. Napoleon, -during many disputes as to the exchange of prisoners in later -years, always found a good excuse for breaking off negociations in -the fact that he held that 4000 or 5000 Hanoverians of the K.G.L. -should be reckoned as men requiring exchange.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_235" href="#FNanchor_235" class="fnanchor">235</a> I note among the deserters from the German Legion in 1812–14 -the strange and non-Teutonic names of Gormowsky, Melofsky, -Schilinsky, Wutgok, Prochinsky, Borofsky, Ferdinando, Panderan, -Kowalzuch, Matteivich, etc.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_236" href="#FNanchor_236" class="fnanchor">236</a> The other two names are one Swiss the other Croatian.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_237" href="#FNanchor_237" class="fnanchor">237</a> Names such as Davy, Woodgate, Galiffe, Andrews, McKenzie, -Holmes, Linstow, Wynne, Joyce, Gilbert are unmistakably British. -See Colonel Rigaud’s <cite>History of the 5/60th</cite>, Appendix i.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_238" href="#FNanchor_238" class="fnanchor">238</a> See p. <a href="#Page_120">120</a>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_239" href="#FNanchor_239" class="fnanchor">239</a> See pp. <a href="#Page_168">168–9</a>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_240" href="#FNanchor_240" class="fnanchor">240</a> This corps only raised its second battalion in 1811.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_241" href="#FNanchor_241" class="fnanchor">241</a> Algarve, Nos. 2 (Lagos) and 14 (Tavira). Alemtejo, Nos. -5 and 17 (1st and 2nd of Elvas), 8 (Evora), 20 (Campomayor), 22 -(Serpa). Lisbon, Nos. 1, 4, 10, 16. Estremadura, No. 7 (Setubal), -19 (Cascaes), 11 (Peniche). Beira, Nos. 3 and 15 (raised in the -Lamego district), 11 and 23 (1st and 2nd of Almeida). Oporto -region, Nos. 6 and 18 (1st and 2nd of Oporto), 9 (Viana), 21 -(Valença). Tras-os-Montes, Nos. 12 (Chaves), and 24 (Braganza).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_242" href="#FNanchor_242" class="fnanchor">242</a> The three Lusitanian battalions wore a uniform of ivy-green, -the nine others a dark brown dress. The cut of both was fashioned -in imitation of that of the British Rifle Brigade.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_243" href="#FNanchor_243" class="fnanchor">243</a> Beresford to Wellington, <cite>Supplementary Dispatches</cite>, vi. p. 774.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_244" href="#FNanchor_244" class="fnanchor">244</a> From a memorandum by Benjamin D’Urban, Beresford’s -Quartermaster-General, or rather Chief of the Staff, in the unpublished -D’Urban papers.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_245" href="#FNanchor_245" class="fnanchor">245</a> From a letter to his friend, J. Wilson, in the unpublished -D’Urban Correspondence.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_246" href="#FNanchor_246" class="fnanchor">246</a> General Orders, Santa Marinha, March 25, 1811.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_247" href="#FNanchor_247" class="fnanchor">247</a> The case of an officer who openly cohabited with the wife of -a private, and fought with and thrashed her not-unreasonably jealous -husband.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_248" href="#FNanchor_248" class="fnanchor">248</a> See General Orders, July 2, 1813.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_249" href="#FNanchor_249" class="fnanchor">249</a> There is a long quarrel of this sort between Colonel Cochrane -of the 36th and General A. Campbell, whose original cause was in -details of mismanagement at the escape of Brennier from Almeida.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_250" href="#FNanchor_250" class="fnanchor">250</a> General Orders, Lesaca, September 20, 1813. In this case a -lieutenant of the 5/60th had been condemned for violently resisting -the turning out of his horses from a stable by his senior, “using -opprobrious and disgraceful language” and threatening to strike him.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_251" href="#FNanchor_251" class="fnanchor">251</a> General Orders, Garris, February 24, 1814.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_252" href="#FNanchor_252" class="fnanchor">252</a> <i>Ibid.</i>, Freneda, February 3, 1813.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_253" href="#FNanchor_253" class="fnanchor">253</a> See <cite>Wellington Dispatches</cite>, vol. ii., pp. 330 and 369, and for his -recapture Stepney’s <cite>Diary</cite>, p. 55.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_254" href="#FNanchor_254" class="fnanchor">254</a> Case of Corporal Hammond of the 87th, January 24, 1810.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_255" href="#FNanchor_255" class="fnanchor">255</a> Viz. 5/60th, 97th, 1, 2, 5, 7 Line of the K.G.L., 1 and 2 Light -K.G.L., Brunswick Oels and <cite>Chasseurs Britanniques</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_256" href="#FNanchor_256" class="fnanchor">256</a> The tale comes from p. xxxi. of the Introduction to the <cite>Collected -General Orders</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_257" href="#FNanchor_257" class="fnanchor">257</a> General Orders, September 22, 1809.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_258" href="#FNanchor_258" class="fnanchor">258</a> See the printed report of the Long <cite>Court-Martial on Colonel -Quentin</cite>, London, 1814, p. 272.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_259" href="#FNanchor_259" class="fnanchor">259</a> Printed in <cite>General Orders</cite>, vol. v. 1813, the accused being Col. -Archdall of the 1/40th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_260" href="#FNanchor_260" class="fnanchor">260</a> Sergeant Donaldson’s <cite>Eventful Life of a Soldier</cite>, pp. 145, 146.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_261" href="#FNanchor_261" class="fnanchor">261</a> There are Peninsular-period Good-Conduct medals for the -10th and 11th Hussars (starting 1812), 5th Foot (Northumberland -Fusiliers), 7th Fusiliers, 22nd, 38th, 52nd, 71st, 74th, 88th, 95th, -97th, and some other corps, not to speak of others which were medals -for special deeds of courage or for marksmanship.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_262" href="#FNanchor_262" class="fnanchor">262</a> See Hope’s <cite>Memoirs of an Infantry Officer, 1808–15</cite>, pp. 459–60.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_263" href="#FNanchor_263" class="fnanchor">263</a> This is said to have been the case in the 1/48th when it was -under Colonel Donnellan, who fell at Talavera.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_264" href="#FNanchor_264" class="fnanchor">264</a> <cite>Autobiography of Sergeant William Lawrence</cite>, pp. 48, 49.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_265" href="#FNanchor_265" class="fnanchor">265</a> <cite>Rough Notes</cite>, by Sir George Bell, i. p. 120.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_266" href="#FNanchor_266" class="fnanchor">266</a> Probably the case of a private of the 34th who had struck his -captain, in a rage. This flogging (1813) was the only one of such -severity which occurred in the regiment while Bell was serving with -it in 1812–1814.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_267" href="#FNanchor_267" class="fnanchor">267</a> See footnote to p. xxv. of <cite>Selected General Orders</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_268" href="#FNanchor_268" class="fnanchor">268</a> These can be found in <cite>Fitzclarence on Outpost Duty</cite>, mentioned -above, in which they were printed at full length. It is still easy to -procure.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_269" href="#FNanchor_269" class="fnanchor">269</a> Donaldson of the 94th, pp. 179–181.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_270" href="#FNanchor_270" class="fnanchor">270</a> General Order, May 23, 1809.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_271" href="#FNanchor_271" class="fnanchor">271</a> See reproofs in 1811 and 1812 in <cite>Collected General Orders</cite>, p. 20.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_272" href="#FNanchor_272" class="fnanchor">272</a> “Under the orders of Sir John Moore a horse or mule was -allowed to each captain of a company of infantry, and a horse or -mule in common among the subalterns. And under the orders of Sir -John Cradock, which have been the rule for this army, the -subalterns were allowed a horse or mule between them” (<cite>General -Orders</cite>, p. 122).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_273" href="#FNanchor_273" class="fnanchor">273</a> I find, <i>e.g.</i>, in diaries, that 2nd Lieut. Hough, R.A., got “two -domestics, a country horse, and a mule” immediately on landing. -Geo. Simmons and Harry Smith of the 95th were certainly -habitually riding when only lieutenants. So was Grattan of the -88th. Bell of the 34th being impecunious had “only half a <em>burro</em> -along with another lad.” Bunbury of the Buffs had half a horse and -half a mule in conjunction with another subaltern. Hay of the -52nd was just in the regulation with one mule to himself, on his -first campaign, but bought a Portuguese mare before he had been -a year in the field.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_274" href="#FNanchor_274" class="fnanchor">274</a> From that amusing piece of doggerel (strictly contemporary) -<cite>The Military Adventures of Johnny Newcome</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_275" href="#FNanchor_275" class="fnanchor">275</a> Notes to <cite>Johnny Newcome</cite>, p. 30.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_276" href="#FNanchor_276" class="fnanchor">276</a> Grattan of the 88th, selling his horse on leaving the Peninsula -at the Lisbon Horse-Fair, says that he got 125 dollars for it, -equalling at the then rate of exchange £31 5<i>s.</i> Boothby, R.E., -buying a red English stallion, considers himself very lucky to get it -for 30 guineas. A donkey fetched about 15 dollars only.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_277" href="#FNanchor_277" class="fnanchor">277</a> There are several court-martials on officers who (disregarding -this order) kept a soldier-servant or bâtman out of the ranks.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_278" href="#FNanchor_278" class="fnanchor">278</a> One officer relates that he came upon his own mule-boy, -aged ten or twelve, deliberately beating out the brains of a wounded -Frenchman, at Salamanca, with a large stone. Another diarist -speaks of making a wounded Frenchman comfortable while he -went for a surgeon, and returning to find him stabbed and stripped. -A third (F. Monro, R.A.) says, “I found myself among the dead -and dying, to the shame of human nature be it said, <em>both</em> stripped, -some half-naked, some wholly so, and this done principally by -those infernal devils in mortal shape, the cruel, cowardly Portuguese -followers, unfeeling ruffians. The Portuguese pillaged and plundered -<em>our own wounded officers</em> before they were dead!”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_279" href="#FNanchor_279" class="fnanchor">279</a> See Ross Lewin’s <cite>With the 32nd in the Peninsular War</cite>, p. -205.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_280" href="#FNanchor_280" class="fnanchor">280</a> Sergeant Anton’s <cite>Retrospect of a Military Life</cite>, pp. 60, 61.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_281" href="#FNanchor_281" class="fnanchor">281</a> <cite>Rough Notes of an Old Soldier</cite>, vol. i. pp. 74, 75.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_282" href="#FNanchor_282" class="fnanchor">282</a> Wellington (General Order of April 26, 1814) makes the concession -that colonels may permit “a few who have proved themselves -useful and regular,” to accompany the soldiers to whom they are -attached “with a view to being ultimately married.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_283" href="#FNanchor_283" class="fnanchor">283</a> For details see Donaldson’s <cite>Eventful Life of a Soldier</cite>, pp. -231, 232.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_284" href="#FNanchor_284" class="fnanchor">284</a> <cite>History of the Peninsular War</cite>, vol. iv. p. 276. Also mentioned -in Tomkinson’s <cite>Diary</cite>, p. 185.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_285" href="#FNanchor_285" class="fnanchor">285</a> <cite>Memoirs of Lejeune</cite>, vol. ii. p. 108. I am a little inclined to -think that this may have been the household establishment of -Hill’s senior aide-de-camp, Currie, as the sight was seen by Lejeune -in the Elvas-Olivenza direction, where the 2nd division was then -quartered.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_286" href="#FNanchor_286" class="fnanchor">286</a> See Dickson Papers I., p. 448.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_287" href="#FNanchor_287" class="fnanchor">287</a> This letter, found among Lord Liverpool’s papers in 1869, was -communicated to me by Mr. F. Turner of Frome.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_288" href="#FNanchor_288" class="fnanchor">288</a> See Connolly’s <cite>Royal Sappers and Miners</cite>, pp. 187–8 and 194.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_289" href="#FNanchor_289" class="fnanchor">289</a> Jones, <cite>Sieges of the Peninsula</cite>, i. p. 169.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_290" href="#FNanchor_290" class="fnanchor">290</a> <cite>General Orders</cite>, p. 275.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_291" href="#FNanchor_291" class="fnanchor">291</a> Jones’ <cite>Sieges of the Peninsula</cite>, ii. p. 97.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_292" href="#FNanchor_292" class="fnanchor">292</a> Grattan’s <cite>With the Connaught Rangers</cite>, pp. 193, 194.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_293" href="#FNanchor_293" class="fnanchor">293</a> Grattan, dealing with the Storm of Rodrigo, p. 145.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_294" href="#FNanchor_294" class="fnanchor">294</a> Sergeant Donaldson, p. 155: he is speaking of the last assault -on Badajoz.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_295" href="#FNanchor_295" class="fnanchor">295</a> Instead of the brass plate with regimental badge or number, -the Light infantry and rifles had only a bugle-horn.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_296" href="#FNanchor_296" class="fnanchor">296</a> Light infantry had a small green tuft on the front of the -shako; regiments of the rest of the line a larger upright plume -fixed on the side.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_297" href="#FNanchor_297" class="fnanchor">297</a> Cooke of the 43rd says (in his <cite>Narrative of Events in the South -of France</cite>, p. 67) that “distorted by alternate rain and sunshine, -as well as by having served as pillows and nightcaps, our caps had -assumed the most monstrous and grotesque shapes.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_298" href="#FNanchor_298" class="fnanchor">298</a> Grattan’s <cite>Connaught Rangers</cite>, p. 51.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_299" href="#FNanchor_299" class="fnanchor">299</a> See Leslie’s edition of the <cite>Dickson Papers</cite>, ii. p. 994.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_300" href="#FNanchor_300" class="fnanchor">300</a> <cite>Memoirs of Captain Ellers</cite>, p. 124 (dealing with the year 1800). -“He never wore powder though it was the regulation to do so. His -hair was cropped close. I have heard him say that hair powder -was very prejudicial to the health, as impeding perspiration, and he -was no doubt right.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_301" href="#FNanchor_301" class="fnanchor">301</a> See for example the description of the 43rd preparing to storm -Rodrigo, in Grattan, p. 145.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_302" href="#FNanchor_302" class="fnanchor">302</a> <cite>Military Journal of Col. Leslie of Balquhain</cite>, p. 229.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_303" href="#FNanchor_303" class="fnanchor">303</a> <cite>Memoirs of Captain Cooke</cite>, ii. p. 76.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_304" href="#FNanchor_304" class="fnanchor">304</a> 7th, 10th, 15th Hussars. The 18th were still called Light -Dragoons in 1808.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_305" href="#FNanchor_305" class="fnanchor">305</a> In April, 1813, 10th, 15th, 18th Hussars, the 7th Hussars -followed in September of the same year.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_306" href="#FNanchor_306" class="fnanchor">306</a> Ker-Porter’s <cite>Letters from Portugal and Spain, 1808–9</cite>, p. 219.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_307" href="#FNanchor_307" class="fnanchor">307</a> The Royal Military Artificers were wearing in the early years -of the century a most extraordinary and ugly head-dress, a tall -top-hat with brim, looking more fit for civilian’s wear, and having -nothing military about it except the “shaving-brush” stuck at one -side. It was not unlike, however, the hat of the Marines. For -illustration of it see the plates in Connolly’s <cite>History of the Royal -Sappers and Miners</cite>, vol. i.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_308" href="#FNanchor_308" class="fnanchor">308</a> There are plenty of stories about him in Grattan’s <cite>With the -Connaught Rangers</cite>. This one, however, is from Bell’s <cite>Rough Notes</cite>, -i. 95.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_309" href="#FNanchor_309" class="fnanchor">309</a> See the letter in General Rigaud’s <cite>History of the 5/60th</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_310" href="#FNanchor_310" class="fnanchor">310</a> See illustration in <a href="#ip_296">Plate 8</a> of a sergeant and private in winter -marching order.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_311" href="#FNanchor_311" class="fnanchor">311</a> There is a curious anecdote in the diary (p. 28) of Cooper of -the 1/7th, of a sergeant, who, running with the point of his pike low, -caught it in the ground, and fell forward on its butt-end, which -went right through his body.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_312" href="#FNanchor_312" class="fnanchor">312</a> <i>E.g.</i> there is a Waterloo story of a sergeant of the 18th -Hussars, who long engaged with a cuirassier, and unable to get at -him because of his armour and helm, ultimately killed him with a -thrust in the mouth. I should not like to take it as certain.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_313" href="#FNanchor_313" class="fnanchor">313</a> For ample details about them see Mr. Milne’s <cite>Standards and -Colours of the Army</cite>, Leeds, 1893.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_314" href="#FNanchor_314" class="fnanchor">314</a> <cite>Autobiography of Sergt. Lawrence</cite>, p. 239.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_315" href="#FNanchor_315" class="fnanchor">315</a> See above, p. 161.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_316" href="#FNanchor_316" class="fnanchor">316</a> See p. <a href="#Page_283">283</a>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_317" href="#FNanchor_317" class="fnanchor">317</a> Cf. p. 266 above.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_318" href="#FNanchor_318" class="fnanchor">318</a> Hennegan’s <cite>Seven Years’ Campaigning</cite>, i. p. 52.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_319" href="#FNanchor_319" class="fnanchor">319</a> Dallas was taking care of the brigade of Skerrett, then marching -(Oct., 1812) from Seville to Aranjuez, right across Central Spain.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_320" href="#FNanchor_320" class="fnanchor">320</a> Autobiography of the Rev. Alexander Dallas, London, 1871, -pp. 59, 60.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_321" href="#FNanchor_321" class="fnanchor">321</a> For the maddening delays, caused by the impossibility of -finding a mule-train ready to go back to the front, a good example -may be found in the autobiography of Quartermaster Surtees of -the 95th, stranded at Abrantes for unending weeks in the late -autumn of 1812 with the new clothing of his battalion, which (as -he knew) was suffering bitterly for want of it.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_322" href="#FNanchor_322" class="fnanchor">322</a> See Donaldson’s <cite>Eventful Life of a Soldier</cite>, pp. 219, 220.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_323" href="#FNanchor_323" class="fnanchor">323</a> Surtees’s <cite>Twenty-five Years in the Rifle Brigade</cite>, pp. 173, 175.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_324" href="#FNanchor_324" class="fnanchor">324</a> From <cite>Travels and Adventures of Bugler William Green, late of -the Rifle Brigade</cite>, Coventry, 1857—a most interesting little book.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_325" href="#FNanchor_325" class="fnanchor">325</a> <cite>Memoirs of John Stevenson, 3rd Foot Guards</cite>, p. 191.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_326" href="#FNanchor_326" class="fnanchor">326</a> Recorded in Tancred’s <cite>Historical Medals</cite>: for details see -Stevenson, as also the <cite>Life of a Scottish Soldier</cite>, which is a 71st -book (p. 118).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_327" href="#FNanchor_327" class="fnanchor">327</a> The absurd semi-religious correspondence of the Duke and -‘Miss J.’ in the 1840’s, published some ten years back may be -remembered.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_328" href="#FNanchor_328" class="fnanchor">328</a> Sir H. Calvert, Adjutant General, to Wellington, 8th November, -1811.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_329" href="#FNanchor_329" class="fnanchor">329</a> See Stevenson, p. 172.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_330" href="#FNanchor_330" class="fnanchor">330</a> Surtees, pp. 177–9.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_331" href="#FNanchor_331" class="fnanchor">331</a> For the “Belemites” see above, pp. 204–5.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_332" href="#FNanchor_332" class="fnanchor">332</a> Who “never went into action without subjecting himself to a -strict self-examination, when after having (as he humbly hoped) -made his peace with God, he left the result in His hands with -perfect confidence that He will determine what is best for him.”—See -Cole’s <cite>Peninsular Generals</cite>, ii. 292.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_333" href="#FNanchor_333" class="fnanchor">333</a> In 1809 the 14th, formerly Bedfordshire, took the Territorial Designation of Bucks; and the 16th, formerly Bucks, became Beds.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_334" href="#FNanchor_334" class="fnanchor">334</a> Of these 25, twenty had been with Moore’s army in the Corunna Retreat, and 23 went to Walcheren.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_335" href="#FNanchor_335" class="fnanchor">335</a> Of these 42, seven had been with Moore’s army in the Corunna Retreat, and 14 went to Walcheren.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_336" href="#FNanchor_336" class="fnanchor">336</a> Of these 11, three (l/43rd, 1/52nd, 1/95th) had been with Moore’s army.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_337" href="#FNanchor_337" class="fnanchor">337</a> Of these 3, one (3/1st) had been with Moore’s army in the Corunna Retreat and went to Walcheren.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_338" href="#FNanchor_338" class="fnanchor">338</a> 9th, 30th, 47th, 48th, 53rd, 56th, 83rd, 84th, 87th. The 83rd was far over -this figure, 2461, a wholly exceptional strength.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_339" href="#FNanchor_339" class="fnanchor">339</a> 4th, 5th, 7th, 11th, 23rd, 24th, 28th, 31st, 42nd, 43rd, 44th, 52nd, 66th, -67th, 81st, 88th, 89th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_340" href="#FNanchor_340" class="fnanchor">340</a> 6th, 21st, 32nd, 34th, 35th, 38th, 39th, 40th, 50th, 58th, 61st, 71st, 78th, -79th, 82nd, 92nd.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_341" href="#FNanchor_341" class="fnanchor">341</a> 3rd, 8th, 10th, 18th, 26th, 36th, 45th, 57th, 62nd, 63rd, 72nd, 90th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_342" href="#FNanchor_342" class="fnanchor">342</a> 15th, 25th, 59th, 69th, 73rd, 91st, 96th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_343" href="#FNanchor_343" class="fnanchor">343</a> 13th, 17th, 29th, 76th, 80th, 93rd.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_344" href="#FNanchor_344" class="fnanchor">344</a> 2nd, 12th, 19th, 20th, 22nd, 33rd, 49th, 51st, 64th, 97th, 90th, 101st, 102nd.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_345" href="#FNanchor_345" class="fnanchor">345</a> 37th, 41st, 54th, 55th, 65th, 68th, 70th, 74th, 75th, 77th, 85th, 86th, 94th, -99th, 100th.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_346" href="#FNanchor_346" class="fnanchor">346</a> 16th, 46th, 103rd.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_347" href="#FNanchor_347" class="fnanchor">347</a> The 94th went out to Cadiz in 1810; the 75th, not long back from India, -was very weak and did not go on foreign service (Sicily) till 1812.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_348" href="#FNanchor_348" class="fnanchor">348</a> This brigade was added to IV on January 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_349" href="#FNanchor_349" class="fnanchor">349</a> These regiments had arrived at Lisbon in April, but having -been at Walcheren were not at first sent into the field till July, -since the 8th of which month they had been shown as a brigade -under Leith.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_350" href="#FNanchor_350" class="fnanchor">350</a> Some accounts represent the Light Battalions as forming a -separate brigade under Halkett.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="fn3"><a id="Footnote_351" href="#FNanchor_351" class="fnanchor">351</a> Not the same man who commanded the 7th Division in 1812, -but the 1st Earl of Hopetoun.</p></div> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_384">384</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"><div class="index"> -<h2 id="INDEX" class="nobreak">INDEX</h2> - -<ul class="index"> -<li class="ifrst">A.</li> - -<li class="indx">Abrantes, importance of, as a depôt, <a href="#Page_311">311</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Accursio das Neves, José, Portuguese historian, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Adjutant-General, office and duties of, in Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_156">156–7</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Albuera, battle of, strictures on Napier’s account of, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">use of the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ordre mixte</i> by the French at, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Blakeney’s account of, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">W. Stewart’s blunder at, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Beresford’s mistakes at, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">losses at, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">gallant behaviour of Harvey’s brigade at, <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Americans, the Royal, or 60th Foot, their rifle-battalion, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227–228</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">its uniform, <a href="#Page_300">300</a></li> - -<li class="indx">American War of 1775–82, use of light troops in, <a href="#Page_75">75</a></li> - -<li class="indx">American War of 1812–14, its influence on the Peninsular War, <a href="#Page_308">308</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><cite>Archives de la Guerre</cite>, French military documents at, <a href="#Page_16">16</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><cite>Archives Nationales</cite>, French military documents at, <a href="#Page_16">16</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Arroyo dos Molinos, surprise of the French at, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Arteche, General, his History of the Peninsular War, <a href="#Page_38">38</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Artificers, the Royal Military, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">reorganized as Sappers and Miners, <a href="#Page_285">285–6</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">uniform of, <a href="#Page_299">299</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Artillery, Wellington’s use of, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">distribution of, in divisions, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">weakness of, in Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">use of, in sieges, <a href="#Page_281">281–3</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">uniform of, <a href="#Page_298">298</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Auxiliary troops, the German and Portuguese, with Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_220">220–36</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">B.</li> - -<li class="indx">Badajoz, gallant services of Engineers at, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">storming of, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Picton at, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">sack of, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">sieges of, <a href="#Page_281">281–3</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284–5</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Baggage, with the British army, <a href="#Page_268">268–71</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Baird, General Sir David, his despatches in the Record Office, <a href="#Page_15">15</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Baker Rifle,” the, <a href="#Page_302">302–3</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Barnard, Colonel Sir Andrew, commands Light Division after Craufurd’s death, <a href="#Page_197">197–8</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Barquilla, combat of, <a href="#Page_100">100</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bathurst, Lieut.-Col. James, Military Secretary to Wellington, <a href="#Page_153">153</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Battalions, establishment of the various, in the British army, <a href="#Page_178">178–81</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1"><i>and see</i> <a href="#APPENDIX_I">Appendix I</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Beamish, Major Ludlow, his <cite>History of the King’s German Legion</cite>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his description of combat of Garcia Hernandez, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Beckwith, Colonel John, his dealings with the Waldenses, <a href="#Page_331">331</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Belemites,” or “Belem Rangers,” the, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_328">328</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bell, Sir George, his <cite>Rough Notes of Fifty Years’ Service</cite>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_386">386</span></li> -<li class="isub1">his description of soldiers’ wives, <a href="#Page_274">274–5</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bell, Sir John, his notes on Craufurd’s march to Talavera, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Belmas, Colonel, his <cite>Journaux des Sièges dans la Peninsule, 1807–13</cite>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bentinck, Lord W., his dispatches, <a href="#Page_15">15</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Beresford, William Carr, Lord, his strictures on Napier’s <cite>History</cite>, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his General Orders for the Portuguese Army, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">account of, by Cole, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Wellington’s regard for, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his character and capacity, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">reorganizes the Portuguese army, <a href="#Page_119">119–20</a>, <a href="#Page_231">231–3</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Wellington’s confidence in, <a href="#Page_120">120</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Blakeney, Captain Robert, 28th Foot, his Autobiography, <cite>A Boy in the Peninsular War</cite>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Blakeney, Colonel T., 7th Foot, his account of Albuera, <a href="#Page_86">86</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Blakiston, Major John, his <cite>Memoirs</cite>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Blayney, Lord, his MS. at the Record Office, <a href="#Page_15">15</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bock, General, his mismanagement of cavalry at Venta del Pozo, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his exploit at Garcia Hernandez, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_224">224</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Boothby, Captain Charles, R.E., his diaries, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Botelho, Major Texiera, his history of Portuguese Artillery, <a href="#Page_35">35</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Borthwick, Major-General, chief of artillery, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Brigades, the, of Wellington’s army, their organization, <a href="#Page_163">163–71</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1"><i>and see</i> <a href="#APPENDIX_II">Appendix II</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Brown Bess” used in Peninsular army, <a href="#Page_301">301</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Brunswick Oels, regiment, history of, by Colonel Kortfleisch, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">used as light infantry, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">services of, in the Peninsula, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bugeaud, Marshal, his account of an attack of column on line, <a href="#Page_90">90–2</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bunbury, Colonel Thomas, Memoirs of, <a href="#Page_35">35</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Burgos, Wellington’s retreat from, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">hardships of the retreat, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">siege of, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bussaco, battle of, Wellington’s tactics at, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Craufurd’s tactics at, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Light Division Caçadores at, <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">C.</li> - -<li class="indx">Caçadores, Portuguese light battalions with British army, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">uniform of, <a href="#Page_301">301</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Camp-followers, with the Peninsular army, <a href="#Page_272">272–3</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Camp-kettles, improvements in, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Campo-Mayor, cavalry charge at, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Canning, George, his correspondence with Wellington about the war, <a href="#Page_52">52</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cannon, Richard, his edition of Regimental Histories, <a href="#Page_32">32–3</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><cite>Capataz</cite>, the Portuguese, <a href="#Page_312">312–13</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cashiering, the punishment of, how earned, <a href="#Page_238">238–40</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Castlereagh, Robert Stewart, Viscount, his correspondence with Sir J. Moore, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">with Wellington, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">develops system of recruiting from the militia, <a href="#Page_209">209</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cavalry, the, Wellington’s tactics, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">difficulties of, in the Peninsula, <a href="#Page_95">95–7</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">French tactics, <a href="#Page_97">97–102</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Wellington’s use of, <a href="#Page_102">102–4</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his remarks on British cavalry, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">shortcomings of British cavalry leaders, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Wellington’s “Instructions” for, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">strength of, in Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_191">191–4</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">uniforms of, <a href="#Page_296">296–8</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Chaplains, army, their shortcomings, Wellington asks for adequate establishment of, <a href="#Page_325">325–6</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_387">387</span></li> - -<li class="indx"><cite>Chasseurs Britanniques</cite>, no History of, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">services of, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86–7</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">formation and doings of, <a href="#Page_225">225–7</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">desertion prevalent in, <a href="#Page_243">243</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cimitière, Captain, command of a brigade devolved on, after Albuera, <a href="#Page_196">196–7</a></li> - -<li id="ciudad" class="indx">Ciudad Rodrigo, storming of, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Craufurd slain at, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">sack of, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">siege of, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cocked hat, the, disused by regimental officers, <a href="#Page_293">293–4</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">worn by heavy dragoons, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">by doctors and commissaries, <a href="#Page_299">299</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Conversion,” some anecdotes concerning, <a href="#Page_322">322–4</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Corporal punishment, Wellington on, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">details of, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237–8</a>, <a href="#Page_251">251–4</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Clerc, Commandant, his account of Soult’s Pyrenean campaign, <a href="#Page_38">38</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Coa, combat of the, <a href="#Page_144">144</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Coiners in the army, <a href="#Page_214">214</a></li> - -<li id="colborne" class="indx">Colborne, Sir John, Lord Seaton, Life of, by Moore Smith, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his remarks on Wellington’s Waterloo dispatch, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">commands brigade at Albuera, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his remarks on the system of recruiting, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his religious character, <a href="#Page_330">330</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cole, J. W., his <cite>Memoirs of British Generals</cite>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cole, General Sir Lowry, his controversy with Napier, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his achievement at Albuera, <a href="#Page_150">150</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Combermere, Lord. <i>See</i> <a href="#cotton">Cotton</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Commissariat Department, importance of, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">management of, in Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_307">307–19</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Commissary-General, his duties, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_311">311–14</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Connaught Rangers, feud of, with Picton, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">anecdotes of, <a href="#Page_246">246–7</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Connolly, T., his <cite>History of the Royal Sappers and Miners</cite>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cooper, J., Sergeant 7th Foot, his <cite>Seven Campaigns in Portugal</cite>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cope, Sir W. H., his <cite>History of the Rifle Brigade</cite>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Costello, Edward, his <cite>Reminiscences</cite>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a></li> - -<li id="cotton" class="indx">Cotton, Sir Stapleton, Lord Combermere, biography of, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Wellington’s opinion of, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his capacity as leader of cavalry, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Court-martials, character of, <a href="#Page_241">241–8</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Craufurd, General Robert, his treatment by Wellington, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his abilities and career, <a href="#Page_139">139–40</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">captured at Buenos Ayres, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">commands the Light Division, <a href="#Page_142">142–4</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">fights the combat of the Coa, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his relations with Wellington, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">repulses Ney at Bussaco, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his retreat at Fuentes de Oñoro, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">killed at Ciudad Rodrigo, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">incident at his funeral, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">institution of the Light Division, <a href="#Page_168">168–9</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his arrangements for marching, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Crime in the army, <a href="#Page_237">237–51</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Currie, Captain R., his wife with the army, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <i>note</i>.</li> - -<li class="ifrst">D.</li> - -<li class="indx">Dalbiac, Mrs., her adventures at Salamanca, <a href="#Page_277">277</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dallas, Rev. Alexander, his diary, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">description of his commissariat work, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">takes orders, <a href="#Page_331">331</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Delafosse, Lemonnier, his <cite>Souvenirs Militaires</cite>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Desertion, punishment of, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">prevalence of, in the foreign corps, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225–6</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dickson, Colonel Sir Alexander, commands artillery, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">at the sieges of Badajoz, <a href="#Page_281">281–3</a>;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_388">388</span></li> -<li class="isub1">at Villa da Ponte, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his papers edited by Major Leslie, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a></li> - -<li class="indx">D’Illens, Major A., his reminiscences of Soult’s campaigns, <a href="#Page_32">32</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dispatches, the Wellington, <a href="#Page_9">9–12</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Supplementary, <a href="#Page_12">12</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Divisions, the, of Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_163">163–77</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">sobriquets of, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1"><i>and see</i> <a href="#APPENDIX_II">Appendix II</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Donaldson, Sergeant Joseph, 94th Foot, his Reminiscences, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">anecdotes from, <a href="#Page_249">249–50</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_322">322</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Douro, river, importance of, as a line of supply, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dragoons, uniform of, Heavy and Light, <a href="#Page_296">296–7</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Drill-books, the French, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">the British, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Duels, in the Army, <a href="#Page_201">201–2</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dumas, Colonel, his account of Soult’s campaign in the Pyrenees, <a href="#Page_38">38</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dundas, Sir David, his views on tactics, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> - -<li class="indx">D’Urban, General Sir Benjamin, criticizes Napier, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his memorandum on the Portuguese army, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">at Salamanca, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his account of Majadahonda, <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">E.</li> - -<li class="indx">El Bodon, retreat of British troops in square at, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Grattan’s description of Picton at, <a href="#Page_134">134</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Elphinstone, Lieut.-Colonel, commands Royal Engineers, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Engineers, rank and file of, called “Royal Military Artificers,” and later “Royal Sappers and Miners,” <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">weakness of Wellington’s army in, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Wellington’s criticism of, <a href="#Page_284">284–5</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Erskine, General Sir William, Wellington’s mention of him in dispatches, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his blunders at Casal Novo and Sabugal, <a href="#Page_151">151</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Executions, by shooting, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">by hanging, <a href="#Page_244">244</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">F.</li> - -<li class="indx">Fantin des Odoards, General L., his Memoirs, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fisher, Colonel G. B., chief of artillery, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Flanders, British campaigns of 1793–4 in, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Flankers,” use of, in the British army, <a href="#Page_74">74–5</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fletcher, Colonel Richard, remarks on Wellington’s omission to mention Engineers at Badajoz, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Wellington’s instructions to, for Lines of Torres Vedras, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">commanding officer of Royal Engineers, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Forage, difficulty of providing, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fortescue, Hon. J., his <cite>History of the British Army</cite>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Foy, General M., his <cite>Guerre de la Peninsule</cite>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his Life, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his estimate of English infantry, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">remarks on Wellington’s strategy at Salamanca, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">records Napoleon’s views on infantry tactics, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his account of cavalry charge at Garcia Hernandez, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his testimony to British officers, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his description of the impedimenta with the British army on the march, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">note of, on the British dragoon uniform, <a href="#Page_297">297</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Foz d’Arouce, Ney surprised at, <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Framingham, Colonel H., chief of artillery, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Frederic the Great, infantry tactics of, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">followed by French, <a href="#Page_63">63–5</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69–70</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his cavalry tactics, <a href="#Page_97">97–8</a></li> - -<li class="indx">French Revolutionary War, its importance in English history, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320–1</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">tactics of the, <a href="#Page_63">63–8</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_389">389</span></li> - -<li class="indx">Fuente Guinaldo, Wellington’s tactics at, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fuentes de Oñoro, Wellington’s omission to mention artillery service at, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">retreat of the Light Division at, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">cavalry at, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Chasseurs Britanniques at, <a href="#Page_227">227</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fusil, the, <a href="#Page_302">302</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">G.</li> - -<li class="indx">Garcia Hernandez, combat of, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_224">224</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gardyne, Colonel, his <cite>Life of a Regiment</cite>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“General Orders,” Wellington’s collection of, its value, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Beresford’s for the Portuguese Army, <a href="#Page_13">13</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Gentlemen Rankers,” notes on, <a href="#Page_214">214–15</a></li> - -<li id="gerleg" class="indx">German Legion, the King’s, History of, by Major Beamish, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">by Captain Schwertfeger, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Light Battalions of, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">dragoons of, at Garcia Hernandez, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">outpost work of its hussars, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">good management of their horses, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">under Craufurd, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">raised in 1804, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">in the Peninsula, <a href="#Page_222">222–4</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">uniform of, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gleig, Rev. G. R., his Diary, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1"><cite>The Subaltern</cite>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gomm, Sir William, his Life, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">journals, <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gonneville, Colonel A. O., his Memories of the War in Spain, <a href="#Page_32">32</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gordon, Colonel James, Quartermaster General, <a href="#Page_156">156</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gough, Hugh, Lord, Life of, by R. S. Rait, <a href="#Page_37">37</a></li> - -<li id="graham" class="indx">Graham, Sir Thomas, Lord Lynedoch, his diary, <a href="#Page_5">5–6</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Life of, by Captain Delavoye, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Wellington’s confidence in, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his career, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">commands British troops at Cadiz, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his victory at Barrosa, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his failure at Bergen-op-Zoom, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his character and popularity, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Grattan, W., his <cite>With the Connaught Rangers</cite>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">complains of Wellington’s forgetfulness of Peninsular services, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his description of Picton, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">of the storm of Ciudad Rodrigo, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his description of the uniforms of the army, <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Guards battalions in Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Guides, Corps of, in Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Guingret, Captain, his reminiscences of Masséna’s campaign in Portugal, <a href="#Page_32">32</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Guidons, disuse of, by the cavalry, <a href="#Page_305">305</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gurwood, Colonel J., his edition of Wellington’s Dispatches, <a href="#Page_9">9–12</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Guibert, General, tactical theories of, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_70">70</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">H.</li> - -<li class="indx">Hair-powder, disused on active service, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Wellington’s dislike for, <a href="#Page_294">294</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Halberd, the, proper weapon of sergeants, <a href="#Page_303">303</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hamilton, Colonel H. B., his <cite>History of the 14th Light Dragoons</cite>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hardinge, Sir Henry, his controversy with Napier, <a href="#Page_2">2</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Harris, Rifleman, of the 95th, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his views on Craufurd, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hawker, Colonel Peter, his <cite>Journal of the Talavera Campaign</cite>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Henegan, Sir R. D., his <cite>Seven Years of Campaigning</cite>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">describes the march of a convoy, <a href="#Page_315">315</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hill, Rowland, Lord, his Life by Sidney, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_390">390</span></li> -<li class="isub1">Wellington’s regard for, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his success at Arroyo dos Molinos, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">character of, <a href="#Page_115">115–116</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his capacity as a leader, <a href="#Page_116">116–117</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Wellington’s confidence in, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his brilliant achievement at St. Pierre, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">commander-in-chief, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">commands the 2nd Division, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">religious character of, <a href="#Page_330">330</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Horse Artillery, in the Peninsular Army, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">uniform of, <a href="#Page_299">299</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Horses, difficulty of feeding, in the Peninsula, <a href="#Page_112">112–13</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">private horses of officers, <a href="#Page_269">269–71</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Howarth, Brigadier-General E., chief of artillery in Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hussars, uniform of, <a href="#Page_298">298</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">I.</li> - -<li class="indx">Infantry tactics, the, of Wellington, <a href="#Page_61">61–93</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">French system of, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">in Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_178">178–91</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">J.</li> - -<li class="indx">Jones, Sir John, his <cite>Journal of the Sieges in Spain, in 1811–12</cite>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">remarks on Wellington’s omission to record services of Engineers at Badajoz, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his note on the siege of St. Sebastian, <a href="#Page_288">288</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Jourdan, Jean-Baptiste, Marshal, his <cite>Guerre d’Espagne</cite>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">K.</li> - -<li class="indx">Ker-Porter, Sir Robert, his <cite>Journal, 1808–9</cite>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Kincaid, Sir John, <a href="#Page_6">6</a> <i>note</i>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his <cite>Adventures in the Rifle Brigade</cite>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his account of Ciudad Rodrigo, <a href="#Page_130">130</a></li> - -<li class="indx">King’s German Legion. <i>See</i> <a href="#gerleg">German Legion</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">L.</li> - -<li class="indx">Ladies at the front, <a href="#Page_276">276–8</a></li> - -<li class="indx">La Peña, General, his inactivity at Barrosa, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lapène, Major, his histories of Soult’s campaigns, <a href="#Page_20">20</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Larpent, Francis, his <cite>Private Journal</cite>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Latour-Maubourg, General, defeat of, by Lumley at Usagre, <a href="#Page_107">107–8</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lawrence, W., 40th Foot, his flogging, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">anecdote of his experiences at Waterloo, <a href="#Page_306">306</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Leach, Col. J., his <cite>Rough Sketches of the Life of an Old Soldier</cite>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Leith, Gen. Sir James, his dispatches at the Record Office, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">memoirs of, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">commands 5th Division, <a href="#Page_169">169</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lejeune, General, his picture of An English Officer’s family on the march, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Le Marchant, General Sir John Gaspard, his cavalry charge at Salamanca, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">head of the Military College, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his religious convictions, <a href="#Page_330">330</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lemonnier, Delafosse, his <cite>Souvenirs Militaires</cite>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Leslie, Major John, his edition of the <cite>Dickson Papers</cite>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Leslie, Colonel T., of Balquhain, his <cite>Military Journal</cite>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Light companies, use of, <a href="#Page_74">74</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Light Division, institution of, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">achievements of under Craufurd, <a href="#Page_142">142–9</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">at Bussaco, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">at Fuentes de Oñoro, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">commanded by Alten, <a href="#Page_146">146</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Line <i>v.</i> Column, <a href="#Page_61">61–92</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ligny, Prussian tactics at, Wellington’s views on, <a href="#Page_80">80–1</a></li> - -<li id="londonderry" class="indx">Londonderry, Chas. Stewart, Lord, his <cite>History of the Peninsular War</cite>, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Adjutant-General in Wellington’s Army, <a href="#Page_156">156–7</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_391">391</span></li> - -<li class="indx">Long, General, R. B., his desponding views, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">weak operations of, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lumley, General W., at Usagre, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">at Albuera, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">praise of, by Picard, <a href="#Page_107">107</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lusitanian Legion, the Loyal, formed by Sir R. Wilson, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_229">229</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Luz, Soriano da, his <cite>History of the Peninsular War</cite>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lynedoch, Lord. <i>See</i> <a href="#graham">Graham, Sir Thomas</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">M.</li> - -<li class="indx">Mackinnon, General H., his Journal, <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Maguilla, cavalry combat of, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Maguire, Lieutenant, leads the “forlorn hope” at San Sebastian, <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Maida, battle of, the use of skirmishers at, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">tactics at, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Marbot, General M., uses Napier’s History, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his mistakes and exaggerations, <a href="#Page_26">26</a></li> - -<li class="indx">March, the army on the, account of, <a href="#Page_255">255–65</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Foy’s description of the British, <a href="#Page_268">268</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Marmont, Auguste, Marshal, his autobiography, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his misrepresentations, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">commands Army of Portugal, <a href="#Page_56">56</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Masséna, André, Marshal, his invasion of Portugal in 1809, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">foiled by Lines of Torres Vedras, <a href="#Page_53">53</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Masterson, Sergeant, captures an eagle at Barrosa, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - -<li class="indx">McGrigor, Sir James, his anecdotes of Wellington, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his account of the Medical Department in the Peninsular army, <a href="#Page_160">160</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Medals, institution of, for good service in the regiments, <a href="#Page_251">251</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Medical Department, the, <a href="#Page_160">160</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Menil-Durand, General, his system of infantry tactics, <a href="#Page_63">63</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Methodists, the, influence of, in the army, <a href="#Page_320">320–31</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Military Secretary, office of the, at Headquarters, <a href="#Page_152">152–3</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Militia, recruiting from, in Wellington’s Army, <a href="#Page_209">209–11</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Minorca Regiment, Stuart’s, later 97th, <a href="#Page_227">227–8</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Money, current, difficulty of providing, in the Peninsula, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>, <a href="#Page_317">317</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Moore, General Sir John, biography of, by Sir F. Maurice, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his views on the defence of Portugal, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his army, <a href="#Page_183">183</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Moorsom, Captain W. S., his <cite>History of the 52nd Oxfordshire Light Infantry</cite>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Mules, use of, for baggage and transport, <a href="#Page_269">269–71</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308–9</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Muleteers, organization of, for the army, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Murray, Colonel George, Quartermaster-General to Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_155">155–6</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Murray, John, Commissary-General, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Murray, Major-General John, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">N.</li> - -<li class="indx">Napier, Sir William, criticism of his <cite>Peninsular War</cite> by Beresford, Cole, Hardinge, D’Urban, etc., <a href="#Page_2">2</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his History, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">its influence on other publications, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his controversy with Picton’s biographer, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">complains of want of recompense of Peninsular veterans, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">overstates Craufurd’s march to Talavera, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his severe judgment of Craufurd, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his failure to appreciate the work of the Portuguese army, <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor, his tactics at Marengo, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his infantry tactics, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_392">392</span></li> -<li class="isub1">his use of cavalry, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">at Waterloo, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his use of artillery, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Naval predominance of Great Britain, its importance, <a href="#Page_310">310–11</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Newman, Sergeant, of 43rd, his exploit, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Nive, battle of, Wellington’s tactics at, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">O.</li> - -<li class="indx">Officers, establishment of, in Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">promotion among, <a href="#Page_198">198–201</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">training of, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">discipline of, <a href="#Page_237">237–42</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Oporto, campaign of, Wellington’s, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ordenança, the Portuguese, <a href="#Page_235">235–6</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Orders, General, publication of, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">the Portuguese, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">account of the marching of the army in, <a href="#Page_255">255–65</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Ordre mixte</i>, the, Napoleon’s preference for, <a href="#Page_70">70–72</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Organization, the, of Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_153">153–77</a>, and Appendix II</li> - -<li class="indx">Ormsby, Rev. J. W., his <cite>Journal of the Campaigns of 1809</cite>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_325">325</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Owen, Rev. T., army chaplain, his gallant behaviour in action, <a href="#Page_327">327</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ox-waggons, use of, its drawbacks, <a href="#Page_314">314–15</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">P.</li> - -<li class="indx">Pack, Sir Denis, Life of, <a href="#Page_37">37</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Paget, Lord, his ability as a cavalry leader, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Pakenham, Major-General Edward, commands expedition to New Orleans, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Adjutant-General in Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">commands 3rd Division at Salamanca, <a href="#Page_198">198</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Parquin, Captain D., his memoirs, <a href="#Page_32">32</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Paymaster-General, office of, <a href="#Page_161">161</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Peninsular War, history of, by Napier, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">by Southey, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">by Toreno, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">by Accursio das Neves, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">by Arteche, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">by Soriano da Luz, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">by Balagny, <a href="#Page_38">38</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Prisoners, the French, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">recruiting of foreign corps from, <a href="#Page_225">225–6</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Picton, General Sir Thomas, Life of, by H. B. Robinson, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his personal relations with Wellington, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">character and career of, <a href="#Page_129">129–38</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Governor of Trinidad, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">description of, by Grattan, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">at El Bodon, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his successful storm of the castle at Badajoz, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">wounded at Quatre Bras, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">killed at Waterloo, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">estimate of his character and abilities, <a href="#Page_136">136–8</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Popham, Sir Home, his MS. at the Record Office, <a href="#Page_15">15</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Portugal, defence of, Wellington’s scheme for, <a href="#Page_50">50</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Portuguese Army, account of, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">artillery of, by Major Botelho, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">troops incorporated in British Army, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">organization of, by Beresford, <a href="#Page_119">119–122</a>, <a href="#Page_231">231–3</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">its composition, <a href="#Page_229">229–33</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Press, the Travelling, of Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Promotion, system of, in British army, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">from the ranks <a href="#Page_206">206–7</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Provisional Battalions,” history of the, <a href="#Page_187">187–8</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Purveyor’s Department, the <a href="#Page_160">160</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">Q.</li> - -<li class="indx">Quartermaster-General, office of, in Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_155">155–6</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">duties of his subordinates, <a href="#Page_258">258–9</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_393">393</span></li> - -<li class="indx">Quill, Doctor Maurice, surgeon of the Connaught Rangers, anecdotes of, <a href="#Page_299">299</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">R.</li> - -<li class="indx">Rae, John, 71st Foot, his exploit at Sobral, <a href="#Page_324">324</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Raglan, Lord. <i>See</i> <a href="#somerset">Somerset, Lord Fitzroy</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Record Office, Peninsular documents in, <a href="#Page_14">14</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Recruiting, notes on, <a href="#Page_208">208–213</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Regiments, internal organization of, <a href="#Page_208">208–219</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Regimental Histories, series, compiled by R. Cannon, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">later histories, <a href="#Page_33">33–4</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Reille, General, his mistake at Quatre Bras, <a href="#Page_81">81</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Religion, influence of, in Peninsular army, <a href="#Page_6">6–7</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320–1</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Reprimands, punishment by, <a href="#Page_240">240–2</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Revolution, the French, British detestation of, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320–1</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Reynier, General J. L., at Maida, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">at Bussaco, <a href="#Page_85">85</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rifle battalions, formed in the British army, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">use of, by Wellington, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">uniform of, <a href="#Page_300">300–1</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rifle, the Baker type, its character, <a href="#Page_302">302–3</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rifle Brigade, the 95th Foot, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rifleman Harris, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his account of Craufurd, <a href="#Page_147">147–8</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Roberts, Lord, his estimate of Wellington’s character, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rocca, Captain M., his account of the war in Spain, <a href="#Page_32">32</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rodrigo, Ciudad. <i>See</i> under <a href="#ciudad">Ciudad Rodrigo</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ross, General W., commands expedition to America, <a href="#Page_151">151</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Royal Military College, the, <a href="#Page_203">203–4</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Russian War, its effect on the Peninsular War, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">S.</li> - -<li class="indx">Sabugal, combat of, <a href="#Page_86">86</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Salamanca, Wellington’s sudden attack at, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his tactics at, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">use of cavalry at, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a></li> - -<li class="indx">San Sebastian, sack of, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">siege of, <a href="#Page_287">287–8</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">the Portuguese infantry at, <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sappers and Miners, the Royal, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">uniform of, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">weapons of, <a href="#Page_304">304–5</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Saxe, Marshal, infantry tactics of, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Schepeler, Colonel K., his <cite>History of the Peninsular War</cite>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Scouts, Wellington’s, <a href="#Page_53">53</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Seaton, Lord. <i>See</i> <a href="#colborne">Colborne</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sergeants, status of, in the Peninsular army, <a href="#Page_216">216–19</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">their halberds, <a href="#Page_303">303</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Shako, introduction of, in the British army, <a href="#Page_292">292–3</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Shaw-Kennedy, T., aide-de-camp to Craufurd, his description of Craufurd, <a href="#Page_143">143</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sherbrooke, General J. C., commands the 1st Division, <a href="#Page_166">166</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sherer, Captain Moyle, his <cite>Recollections of the Peninsula</cite>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Shipp, John, his autobiography, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his romantic career, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Siege train, Wellington’s, organized by Alex. Dickson, <a href="#Page_281">281–3</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sieges, the, of the Peninsular War, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">of Badajoz, <a href="#Page_281">281–6</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">of Ciudad Rodrigo, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">of Burgos, <a href="#Page_286">286–7</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">of San Sebastian, <a href="#Page_288">288</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Silveira, General, commands Portuguese Militia, <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Simmons, George, 95th Foot, his <cite>Journal</cite>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Slade, General J., his rash charge at Maguilla, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Wellington’s remarks on, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">estimate of his capacity, <a href="#Page_151">151</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Smith, Sir Harry, his Autobiography, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">romantic story of his marriage, <a href="#Page_277">277</a></li> - -<li id="somerset" class="indx">Somerset, Lord Fitzroy (afterwards Lord Raglan), Military Secretary to Wellington, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_394">394</span></li> -<li class="isub1">aide-de-camp to Wellington, <a href="#Page_160">160</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sorauren, battle of, Wellington’s tactics at, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Soult, Nicolas, Marshal, at Sorauren, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">at St. Pierre, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">at San Sebastian, <a href="#Page_288">288</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Southey, Robert, his <cite>History of the Peninsular War</cite>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Spain, geography of, <a href="#Page_93">93–7</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Spencer, Sir Brent, Wellington’s confidence in, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his limitations, <a href="#Page_151">151</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Spring Waggons,” the, <a href="#Page_314">314</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sprünglin, Colonel, his autobiography, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a></li> - -<li class="indx">St. Chamans, Colonel, his Memoirs, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a></li> - -<li class="indx">St. Cyr, Gouvion, Marshal, his History of the War, <a href="#Page_20">20</a></li> - -<li class="indx">St. Pierre, Hill at the battle of, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">gallant conduct of Ashworth’s Portuguese at, <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Staff Corps Cavalry, duties of the, <a href="#Page_150">150</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Standards, types of, used in Wellington’s army, <a href="#Page_305">305–6</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Stevenson, Sergeant, J., his memoirs, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his religious convictions, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">description of the Methodist meetings at Badajoz, <a href="#Page_329">329–30</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Stewart, Sir Charles. <i>See</i> <a href="#londonderry">Londonderry</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Store-keeper General, office of, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Stothert, Captain W., his <cite>Diary of 1809–11</cite>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Suchet, Marshal Louis Gabriel, his account of the war in Catalonia, <a href="#Page_20">20</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Surtees, Sergeant W., his religious experiences, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his reminiscences, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his remarks on army chaplains, <a href="#Page_328">328</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Suspension,” punishment of, <a href="#Page_240">240–1</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Swords, types of, used by Peninsular army, <a href="#Page_303">303–4</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">T.</li> - -<li class="indx">T. S. of the 71st Foot, his autobiography, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">why he joined the army, <a href="#Page_211">211–12</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tactics, infantry, French, <a href="#Page_63">63–73</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">British, <a href="#Page_74">74–91</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Talavera, battle of, Wellington’s tactics at, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">charge of 23rd Light Dragoons at, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tarleton, Colonel B., his History of the War in Carolina, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his “Legion” of light troops, <a href="#Page_75">75</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tents, advantages and disadvantages of, <a href="#Page_259">259–60</a>, <a href="#Page_264">264–5</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Thiébault, General Dieudonné, his account of the war in Portugal, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">of the combat of Aldea da Ponte, <a href="#Page_26">26</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tirailleurs, employed in French army, <a href="#Page_65">65–7</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tomkinson, Colonel W., his Diary, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his Notes on British Cavalry Regiments, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Torres Vedras, Lines of, Wellington orders their construction in 1809, <a href="#Page_52">52–3</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Toreno, Conde de, his <cite>History of the Peninsular War</cite>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Trant, Colonel N., leads Portuguese militia, <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Trousers, introduced in the British army, <a href="#Page_294">294–6</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">U.</li> - -<li class="indx">Uniforms, the, in the Peninsular army, <a href="#Page_292">292</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Usagre, cavalry combat of, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">V.</li> - -<li class="indx">Vaughan, Sir Charles, his dispatches, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his MSS., <a href="#Page_16">16</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Venta del Pozo, cavalry combat of, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Victor, Claude Perrin, Marshal, defeated at Barrosa, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Vigo-Roussillon, Colonel, his account of Barrosa, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his appreciation of Graham, <a href="#Page_127">127</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_395">395</span></li> - -<li class="indx">Vimeiro, battle of, Wellington’s tactics at, <a href="#Page_80">80</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Vivian, Hussey, Lord, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Life of, <a href="#Page_37">37</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Volunteers,” their status, <a href="#Page_196">196</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">W.</li> - -<li class="indx">Walcheren, expedition, the, disastrous effects of on health of regiments, <a href="#Page_187">187</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wallace, Colonel W., commands 3rd Division after fall of Badajoz, <a href="#Page_198">198</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Warre, Sir George, his <cite>Letters</cite> of 1808–12, <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Waterloo, battle of, Wellington’s tactics at, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wellesley, Henry, diplomatist, his dispatches at the Record Office, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wellington, Arthur Wellesley, Duke of, his dispatch concerning preaching officers, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Gurwood’s edition of his Dispatches, <a href="#Page_9">9–12</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">the Supplementary Dispatches, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his General Orders, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">views on publication of historical information, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his story of a visit to Blücher before Waterloo, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his early career, <a href="#Page_39">39–41</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his relations with his troops, <a href="#Page_41">41–3</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">with his officers, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">autocratic temper, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his dispatches, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Lord Roberts’ estimate of him, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">extraordinary prescience of the course of the war, <a href="#Page_50">50–3</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his long-sighted calculation, <a href="#Page_53">53–5</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his strategy, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">in offensive warfare, <a href="#Page_57">57–80</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his infantry tactics, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73–93</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his views on French tactics, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his tactics at Vimeiro, Bussaco, Salamanca, Waterloo, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">remarks on the triumph of line over column, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his cavalry tactics, <a href="#Page_94">94–102</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">remarks on British cavalry, <a href="#Page_104">104–109</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">“Instructions for Cavalry,” <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his confidence in Hill, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">in Beresford, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">in Graham, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his relations with Craufurd, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his estimate of Erskine, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his organization of the army, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his rapid early promotion, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">remarks on promotion from the ranks, <a href="#Page_206">206–7</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">adventure with the plunderer of bee-hives, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his orders for the army on the march, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his remarks on the third siege of Badajoz, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">at the siege of Burgos, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his attitude toward religion, <a href="#Page_324">324–5</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">requisitions chaplains for the army, <a href="#Page_325">325–7</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wellington, Arthur Richard Wellesley, second Duke of, his publication of the Supplementary Dispatches, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_12">12</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wesleys, the, influence of, <a href="#Page_320">320</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whinyates, Colonel F. A., his history <cite>From Corunna to Sebastopol</cite>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Windham, William, his appreciation of Craufurd, <a href="#Page_140">140</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wives, the soldiers’, at the front, <a href="#Page_274">274–6</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Woodberry, Lieutenant G., 18th Hussars, his Diary, <a href="#Page_6">6</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">Y.</li> - -<li class="indx">York, Frederick, Duke of, his campaign in Flanders, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his views on infantry tactics, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">on promotion in the army, <a href="#Page_199">199–200</a></li> -</ul> -</div></div> - -<p class="p2 center smaller">THE END</p> - -<p class="p2 center small"> -PRINTED BY<br /> -WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED<br /> -LONDON AND BECCLES -</p> - -<div class="chapter"><div class="transnote"> -<h2 id="Transcribers_Notes" class="nobreak p1">Transcriber’s Notes</h2> - -<p>Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent -when a predominant preference was found in this book.</p> - -<p>Simple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced -quotation marks were corrected when the change was obvious.</p> - -<p>Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.</p> - -<p>The index was not systematically checked for proper -alphabetization or correct page references.</p> - -<p>Sidenotes in this eBook contain the text of running -headers in the original book. They have been placed -between paragraphs that were near those headers. Like -the original headers, the sidenotes are not necessarily -at the beginnings of the topics to which they refer.</p> - -<p>Page <a href="#Page_193">193</a>: “lost so many men as the 2nd” was misprinted with -a gap where the word “as” should have been; corrected here.</p> - -<p>Page <a href="#Page_252">252</a>: “to two of three” was printed that way.</p> - -<p>Page <a href="#Page_295">295</a>: Transcriber added a missing closing quotation -mark after “if we fancied it.” The correct position may -be later in the paragraph.</p> - -<p>Tables on pages <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_340">340</a> and <a href="#Page_341">341</a>: Asterisks in these tables -are not references to footnotes; their purpose is explained -on page <a href="#Page_333">333</a>: “The star * affixed to a battalion’s station -means that it had just returned from Sir John Moore’s -Corunna Campaign.”</p> - -<p>Page <a href="#Page_339">339</a>: “only two (2/5th 2/34th, 2/38th)” was printed -that way, with “two” and no comma after the first number.</p> - -<p><a href="#Footnote_344">Footnote 344</a>, originally on page <a href="#Page_338">338</a>: “97th, 90th, 101st, 102nd” -probably includes a misprint, as “90th” is out of sequence and -already was mentioned in <a href="#Footnote_341">Footnote 341</a>.</p> -</div></div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Wellington's Army 1809-1814, by Charles Oman - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WELLINGTON'S ARMY 1809-1814 *** - -***** This file should be named 56318-h.htm or 56318-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/3/1/56318/ - -Produced by Brian Coe, Charlie Howard, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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