The Girl's Own Paper. Vol. XX. No. 1007. April 15, 1899

“At last the chief Command has been bestowed where it should be; and for five days past Sir John has been at the Head of Affairs. Some hope now that things will go right! Jack says that when Sir John was first placed third in command, after being first, he declared that fight for his Country he would, and no man should Hinder him; and if the King saw fit to bid him act as Ensign, he would unhesitatingly obey.

“Strict Orders are issued that we are to be excessive Polite toward the Spaniards, they being somewhat warm in their Tempers.

“Oct. 16th.

“Salamanca to be the general Rendez-vous. The different Divisions follow at intervals by different Routes. The Spaniards are declared on all hands to be gloriously enthusiastic—the French weak, and far out-numbered by them.

“Oct. 28th. Sacavem.

“Early in the day still. Scarce an hour since I came across Major Charles Stanhope and Major Charles Napier breakfasting together under an olive tree.[1] They were talking eagerly—not hard to guess the subject! I caught words as I passed; and ’twas as I would have conjectured, admiration of our General.[1] What Moore is and what Moore may do are the theme of all. Was ever man more beloved than he?

“The three Napier brothers are gallant fellows—which the more so ’twould be hard to say. A little later, on my way, I met Jack’s friend, George Napier, who is Aide-de-camp to Moore, and had some words with him—a fine fellow indeed, and ardently devoted to our General. ‘Any tidings from Verdun of late?’ he asked me. I would there were!

“Nov. 8th. Almeida.

“Nearing fast the borders of Portugal. Reports continue to reach us of the immense and warlike enthusiasm of the Spaniards. Even the peasantry, ’tis declared, are Ardent to fight. Sixty or seventy thousand Spanish soldiers, under their Generals, Blake and Romana, await our advance, and they are said to be ‘full of contempt’ for the French. Jack says contempt won’t help ’em so well as hard fighting. Boney is no Enemy to be despised. But at most there are, if accounts be true, only some fifty thousand French to be dealt with, and our twenty-five thousand, backed up by the entire Spanish Army, should be well equal to that.[2]

“Nov. 11th.

“Little baggage allowed. Conveyance the grand difficulty. Some grumbling at this. A lot of young fellows here, who have never been in the field before, and who don’t know what to make of Discomfort. Seem to expect that everything should be as in Barracks at Home! Good for me to have had experience of a Bitche dungeon. That’s like to knock the softness out of a fellow, if anything would.

“The General toils night and day unceasingly. What he gets through is Amazing. Large number in our force of untrained levies, and these have to be, as Major Napier would say, ‘drilled and rattled’ into shape. The difference in ’em already wouldn’t be believed. One man has had unfortunately to be shot for marauding; otherwise discipline is splendid, and everybody in the Highest Spirits.

“The Portuguese nobles en route have received Sir John well at their private houses. Country we’ve come through anything but beautiful. Villages wretched. Roads not so bad as reported beforehand by the Portuguese. Red cockades ready—ordered to be worn by the whole force so soon as we cross the border, in compliment to the Spanish.

“Nov. 12th. Ciudad Rodrigo.

“Here we are in Spain. Red cockades in full swing. Little time for writing. Everybody busy, and the General has his eye on each one. Grand reception of him here by the Spaniards; and shouts of ‘Vivan l’Ingleterra y l’Inglese!’ Doing my best to get up a smattering of Spanish. Find my knowledge of French useful already; likely to be more so.

“Rodrigo stands high; right bank of the Agueda. Had time to take a look at the ancient rampart yesterday evening, Jack and I together. The word ‘rampart’ brings Verdun to mind, and all who are there. What wouldn’t Denham give to be here!—and what wouldn’t I give to have him! Yet I often think how lucky it was I knocked down that bust, and got myself sent to Bitche! But for that, I might be kicking up my heels at Verdun to this day.

“Nov. 13th. Salamanca.

“At the general Rendez-vous! Grand sight to see the Regiments come in—splendid fellows, ready for anything—and the Colours flying. All long for but one thing—to meet the French, and have at ’em!

“General Moore has arrived this afternoon—looking harassed and weary, Jack says, who saw him; and he confesses to feeling jaded. But there’s no sort of rest for one in his position.

“Country-folk hereabout seem mightily struck with Amaze at the Ways of our Army, and everything being paid down for as it is, after the manner they’ve been handled by the French soldiers in the past.

“Nov. 15th. Salamanca.

“French Army reported to be advancing, and only 20 leagues off. Both Spanish Generals retiring before ’em. Question now is, whether Castanos, commanding the third Spanish division, will make any better stand. Our troops are coming up in detachments; quicker advance impossible, for lack of transport. Three brigades of Infantry here, and not one gun! I hear they can’t hope to Concentrate the whole force in less than a fortnight. Let’s hope the French may leave us alone till then.

“If Castanos should run away too, some say we may ourselves be forced to retreat. But that’s not the common expectation; and Retreat is the last word that Moore will utter, without dire need. Jack of course hears more than I do, not only being Captain, and having known Sir John in private life, but also having more than one intimate friend on the Staff. Privately he tells me he does not believe Sir John to have any enormous faith in Spanish enthusiasm; but that is not known to most.

“Nov. 22nd.

“The way Sir John works! ’Tis enough to make laggards ashamed! Each morning regularly he’s up betimes, between three and four, and lights his own fire from the lamp kept burning in his room. Then he writes hard till eight, when the ‘Officers of the Family’ breakfast with him. Breakfast over, he sees the Generals and anyone who may have business to communicate, and issues his Orders. As he writes all his letters with his own hand, he is often at that a great part of the forenoon as well as in the early morning—till he rides out, either to reconnoitre or to review the Troops. At dinner he has commonly from fifteen to twenty officers at his table, and he is then at his best, and talks much and freely with them all. He keeps a good table, but is himself a most moderate eater, and drinks wine sparingly. Dinner over, he is again at his writing and despatches, and goes to bed, if he may, at ten, but often he is prevented. Our Chief lives indeed a life of Toil. No marvel if at times he has a worn look.

“Nov. 29th. Salamanca.

“Castanos has been beaten by the French at Tudela; and ’tis now pretty clear that the ‘retiring’ of the other Spanish troops meant a thorough drubbing. We hear that the Spaniards are provided with neither clothing nor shoes, arms nor ammunition, and for days together have no bread. What can be expected of them in such case?

“Some fear that Retreat on our part may become needful; others scout the notion. I heartily hope we may first have a brush with the Enemy.

“Dec. 10th.

“At Salamanca still; tho’ ’tis now ten days since the General gave orders to make ready for Retreat.

“Dec. 11th.

“Hurrah! Hurrah! Moore—glorious fellow!—will not retire, without giving the Spaniards one more chance.

“Jack says he has been assured in the strongest manner that all is not yet up; that Castanos is far from utterly routed; that some of the Provinces are warmly patriotic, and ready to sacrifice their all for freedom from the French yoke. Two Spanish Generals, arrived in our Camp, speak with enthusiasm of the Undismayed Courage and Resolution of the Spanish Army, despite some late unfortunate Reverses. In short, one more effort is to be made. Without delay, the whole British force, now at Salamanca, is to make a rapid advance. Jack gathers that the plan will be to attack Marshal Soult beyond the Carrion. We hope now at last to meet the foe. That is enough for us!

“Dec. 14th.

“Madrid has fallen—after holding out against Napoleon one day! So much for Spanish enthusiasm. But we are advancing still towards Saldana, where Soult lies. All in the best of spirits.

“Dec. 21st. Sahagun.

“Sharp brush with the Enemy yesterday. News came that the French Cavalry, to the number of 700, lay at Sahagun. Lord Paget,[3] with the 15th Hussars, about 400 men, went to surprise them. In one charge he put ’em to the rout, taking 150 prisoners. Well done, Hussars! Sir John thanked them right heartily when he got here. Every man in the force is burning to get at the Enemy. Desperate cold weather. Snow everywhere.

“Dec. 23rd. Sahagun.

“All is up with our hopes of striking a blow at Soult. One more night, and we should have come up with him. Now the forward march is countermanded. Seems that Napoleon is making a rush to cut off our communication with the coast. I suppose there isn’t a man of us that wouldn’t still go on, in the face of any odds. But Sir John asks no advice. He is quiet, resolved, with never a look of hesitation.

“Yet having come so far, now to go back, with nothing done—’tis an awful disappointment. Some, much as they love Sir John, are bitter about it, and will not or cannot see the need. Jack trusts him fully, and says he understands,—Boney has been too sharp. If he can cross our communications with Portugal, we shall just find ourselves between him and Soult, and the Spanish Armies nowhere.