In Colonel Cameron’s letter alluded to above he says—”Almost all the wounded are lost to the service for ever, as most of them have lost legs or arms.  Major Grant has lost his left leg, Lieutenant [215, May 1811] M’Nab his right arm from the socket, and the left splintered the whole length.  Lieutenant Hill severely wounded in the hip, and ball not extracted.  Allan M’Nab, the laird’s son, has proved himself of the genuine old Highland stamp by an exhibition of fortitude barely human, and which has attracted the admiration of the whole army here.  Write the laird[9] that he is a credit to his country, and that I hope in God he will survive.  They all promise well.  The French, you will see by the papers, were baffled in all their efforts, and have not meddled with us since, and seem to-day (the 8th) as if retiring.  The 71st and 79th Highland Regiments had an opportunity of distinguishing themselves most nobly.  Charles Cameron, Errachd’s son, behaved most admirably; he was dangerously wounded.  I am much exhausted, as we have been for seven days without bag or baggage under the canopy of Heaven without covering of any kind.  I with difficulty borrowed this paper.  None of the lads from the country killed or wounded, except Claives,[10] wounded, but not dangerously.”

Major Archibald M’Donell, who commanded the detachment in front which greatly distinguished themselves, was promoted to the brevet rank of lieut.-colonel, and the 92nd afterwards[11] received the Royal authority to bear the words Fuentes d’ Onor on the regimental colours and appointments in commemoration of the gallantry of the 1st Battalion in that battle.

The Gordons remained bivouacked close to Fuentes d’Onor, and were occupied on the 6th and 7th along with the Light Division in strengthening the position, in case the enemy, who remained in their position, should renew the attack.  Massena, however, withdrew part of his forces on the 8th, though still maintaining posts at Alameda and Fuentes.

 

 

Click on photo for a larger image

The morning state of the battalion, 8th May, Plains of Almeida, was—

 On the 10th Massena retired his army across the Agueda towards Salamanca.  He was himself recalled to France, and Marmont assumed the command of the army of Portugal.  Almeida, the only place in the country still in possession of the French, was abandoned to its fate; and its brave commander, Breunier, [216, May 1811] after destroying part of the defences, evacuated the place during the night of the 10th, and with great bravery and skill, aided by the darkness, broke through the blockade, losing, however, 400 killed or made prisoners by the 4th and 36th Regiments, who, throwing off their knapsacks, overtook the rear of the column as it was descending the deep and difficult pass of Barba del Puerco.  On the other side, the Second French Corps was waiting in order of battle to receive the gallant garrison, of whom 1100 got clear off.

Next day, Wellington took possession of Almeida with its artillery.

Thus ended the French invasion of Portugal.  Although the inefficiency of the Government at Lisbon had paralysed the efforts of the country, the British were supported with fidelity and cordiality by the rural population, and the peasantry had agreed admirably with our soldiers.  Their sufferings had excited warm sympathy in Great Britain, and Parliament unanimously granted £100,000 for the relief of sufferers by the French invasion, while private subscriptions trebled the amount.[12]

 On the 14th of May the battalion returned from Fuentes to its former cantonments at Albergaria, where orders were received increasing its establishment to 1200 rank and file.

Meanwhile, Marshal Beresford, who was blockading Badajos, having received information that Marshal Soult was advancing from Seville to its relief, raised the siege on the 15th of May, and marched to meet the enemy.  On the 16th he gained the hard-fought victory of Albuera, and Soult, leaving Badajos to its fate, retreated towards Seville.  Wellington now gave orders for Badajos to be again closely invested; and to assist in the operations, the brigade of which the 92nd formed part was appointed the first of the Second Division of the army, which was commanded by Lieut.-General Rowland Hill, and was at this time in Spanish Estremadura covering the siege of Badajos.

The battalion, under Lieut.-Colonel Cameron, marched at five o’clock on the evening of the 15th of May, and continued for two days and nights almost without intermission; the heat during the day was excessive, and the men were a good deal fatigued; but Soult having withdrawn from Badajos, they were allowed a day’s rest, and crossed the Tagus at Villa Velha, arriving at Niza on the evening of the 31st.  The country about Niza is fertile and beautiful: gardens, vineyards, and cornfields for miles round the city, which is situated on a lofty eminence commanding splendid views towards Badajos and Elvas.  Though the days were hot, the nights were delightful, and sleeping in the open no hardship.  They bivouacked generally on the edge of a wood for shade, and near a [217, May 1811] stream.  The troops halted in open columns; arms were piled, pickets and guards paraded and posted, and in a few moments all appear at home.  Some fetch stones to form fireplaces; others, water for the camp kettles; while the wood resounds with the blows of axes  and bill-hooks.  Under the trees officers are seen dressing, or arranging green boughs to form shelters.  Milk, water-melons, bread, and vegetables are brought from the villages, and soon all are discussing dinner; the favourite dish being Irish stew of ration beef with onions, pumpkins, and tomatoes.  “Nothing could be worse than the clothing of some of the regiments: as red could not be procured, the jackets were patched with grey, white, or brown; but the perfect order and cleanliness of their arms and appointments, their steadiness on parade, their erect carriage, and their firm and free marching, were all admirable.”[13]

From Niza they proceeded by easy stages; and crossing the Guadiana above Badajos, near Talavera la Real, on the 8th June, joined the Second Division in camp near Albuera on the 10th, about ten days after the commencement of the second siege of Badajos.  While here they witnessed a fearful fire; a cornfield was accidentally set alight by some Portuguese soldiers, and the flames spread over the burning plains for a distance of about thirty miles.[14]

Soon after, Marmont, having reorganised the army of Portugal, effected a junction with Marshal Soult.  Wellington was prepared to fight Soult alone, and had entrenched the position of Albuera ; but the arrival of Marmont gave the enemy such an overwhelming superiority in artillery, cavalry, and infantry, as made it necessary to raise the siege, and withdraw the Allied army.  Accordingly, the Second Division broke up from its bivouac on the 16th; marched by Valverde, recrossed the Guadiana, and arrived at Torre de Mouro on the 20th of June.  The united French armies had entered Badajos on the 19th, just in time to save the garrison, who would have been driven by want of provisions to abandon the place they had twice so bravely defended.  Wellington, prepared to accept battle, drew up his army in front of Elvas—his right being below that fortification at the bridge over the Caya, and his left extending along the bank of that river to beyond the fortress of Campo Mayor, a distance of about ten miles.  On the 21st the enemy’s cavalry, having crossed the Guadiana, drove in the Allied outposts; and by a feigned retreat drew the British cavalry, who had at first been successful, into an ambuscade, and took a squadron of the 11th Light Dragoons.

A decisive battle was now expected.  The enemy had a superiority [218, May 1811] of one-fourth in artillery and infantry, and the strength of his cavalry was double that of the British,[15] whose strength was greatly reduced by the number of their sick and wounded;[16] but the men who lined the banks of the Caya were the same stern soldiers who had fought at Albuera and Fuentes d’Onor; and though his own troops were the flower of the French army, including a large number of the Imperial Guard, they were conscious of late defeats; the British had the weight of moral superiority, and Soult felt it unsafe to tackle them.  He withdrew without fighting.  Wellington, aware that till he had possession of all the frontier fortresses, he could not advance into Spain, resolved to move with the bulk of his army, which had been reinforced from England, in the direction of Ciudad Rodrigo; leaving Hill with 10,000 infantry, 1500 cavalry, and four brigades of artillery, in the rich district between Villa Viciosa and Portalegre, which was free from the Guadiana fever, and where the troops could rapidly concentrate for offence or defence.  Therefore, the Second Division broke up from the bivouac at Torre de Mouro on the 21st July, marched to Elvas, and next day went into quarters about Villa Viciosa; the 92nd, along with the rest of the First Brigade and a brigade of Portuguese, occupied the neat little town of Borba, where was a plentiful supply of wine, vegetables, and fruit to supplement the commissariat rations—a market being held every day during their stay.  The 1st of September saw them again on the move, and on the 3rd they marched into the city of Portalegre, where the whole division was quartered, and where the Gordons no doubt renewed their agreeable relations with the inhabitants, whom they found so friendly when they were quartered here under Sir John Moore.  General Hill kept hounds, the officers had partridge shooting and fishing, and there were entertainments and amusements for all ranks.

Meanwhile Wellington, with the main body of the army, had invested Ciudad Rodrigo.  Towards the end of September, Marmont, having received large reinforcements, especially of the Imperial Guard, advanced to relieve the fortress with 60,000 men, of whom 6000 Were cavalry and he had more than a hundred pieces of artillery.[17]  Wellington had 45,000 men of all arms,[18] and was weak in artillery.

On September 25th the heroic combat of El Boden furnished another instance of how impossible it is for even the most daring cavalry to overcome the resistance of steadfast infantry.  Another combat took place at Aldea de Ponte under the immediate direction [219, Sept 1811] of Lord Wellington, who, on the morning of the 28th, occupied a strong position in an angle formed by the Coa River, which could only be attacked on a narrow front, and Marmont, who had only brought a few days’ provisions, retired, having victualled and placed a new garrison in Ciudad Rodrigo.  Wellington cantoned his army on both sides of the Coa, and resumed the blockade of the fortress.  In the above-mentioned actions the Allies lost about 300 men and the French about 600.  Alison relates, as an instance of the generous spirit which animated the brave men of both armies, that a French officer was in the act of striking at Captain Felton Harvey of the 14th Light Dragoons, when, seeing that he had but one arm, he at once lowered his point to the salute and passed on.  Major Gordon, who had been sent with a flag of truce by Wellington to Marmont, was hospitably received, dined with the French Marshal, rode with him round the outposts, and they freely discussed the prospects of the campaign and the qualities of the troops on both sides; while General Regniaud, Governor of Ciudad Rodrigo, who had been led into an ambuscade by Sanchez’ Guerillas and taken prisoner, was a frequent guest at Wellington’s table, and entertained the company by his anecdotes of the French generals and armies.  A story was told me many years ago by a brother of a Peninsular Gordon Highlander, showing that these chivalrous feelings were by no means confined to the higher ranks.  I forget on what occasion it happened, but after a battle a French colonel was lying wounded on the field, when one of the 92nd approached him.  The Frenchman could speak English, and, supposing the soldier was coming to plunder him, offered his purse and gold watch, asking his assistance, but the man indignantly answered that he was a soldier and not a robber, that he would gladly help him without reward, and carried him to the surgeon.  The colonel showed his gratitude by reporting the circumstance very favourably to the British general, and the man was promoted corporal.  At Elvas, where the hospitals were, the crowded wards were occupied by British and French side by side, who were to be seen performing little kind offices for each other, using Spanish to express their wants or their thanks.

While Wellington remained to oppose Marmont and Dorsenne, and was occupied in the still more difficult task of pacifying party disputes in the Portuguese Government, and inducing them to feed their own troops, who were paid by Britain but ought to have been rationed by their own country, Hill was still at Portalegre on the frontiers of Estremadura, watching the French under Drouet.

On the 7th of October a draft joined from the 2nd Battalion, consisting of 1 major, 2 captains, 4 subalterns, 1 assistant surgeon, and 199 n.c.  officers and soldiers.  They had marched from Athlone for embarkation at Cork on the 17th August with 248 men. [220, Oct 1811]  An officer who was with them mentions that at Fermoy an order reached them for forty-eight of the detachment to return to Athlone, being considered too young to undergo the fatigues of a campaign, and relates how some of the poor lads “absolutely shed tears” in their sorrow and disappointment at losing the chance of active service.  He also describes the ruined state of the villages which had been occupied by the French, through which they passed in their march from Lisbon, and the warm welcome they received from the 1st Battalion on their arrival.

When Drouet had retired to Zafra, Hill received orders from Lord Wellington to drive General Gerard’s Division of the Fifth Corps away from Caceres, and to re-establish the Spanish troops under Morillo in that district, from which Gerard had forced them to retire; accordingly, the Second Division broke up from their comfortable cantonments at Portalegre.  The 92nd left the women and baggage in the quarters of the corps, with a guard of one subaltern, one sergeant, and twelve rank and file of the most weakly soldiers.  The men were ordered “at all times to march with the wrong side of their kilts outermost unless when ordered to the contrary.” Passing Allegrete, the last Portuguese town, they bivouacked that night at Codeceira, the first Spanish village.  An officer of the regiment notices the effect of want of knowledge of camp life on the part of the draft lately joined, and remarks that all soldiers should be taught practically field cookery and other incidents of the bivouac before being sent on active service.  The arms on this occasion were no sooner piled than the old stagers were off in search of comforts, but the “Johnny Raws,” as all young soldiers were called, sat shivering on their knapsacks in expectation that dinner would be provided for them as at home, without personal trouble, and the old campaigners were enjoying their meal almost before the new hands had got their kettles on the fire.  At night a pouring rain fell on them, as officers and soldiers sat or lay round smoky fires with their heads resting on each other’s legs—some warming wine in the lid of a camp kettle, others crouching for shelter behind a wall, with forage caps pulled down over their ears, cursing the commissariat, the rain, and the French; but the cheering rays of the morning sun brought warmth and good humour, and the battalion advanced to the ancient city of Albuquerque, where they learned that the French had retired from Alesada.

On the 24th October they reached Cantellana, and the following forenoon found the Third Brigade at Alesada, where they also met some Spanish irregular cavalry in quaint old-fashioned costumes, under Colonel Downie.  The road here was so bad that the guns had to be removed from their carriages and carried up a steep place by [221, Oct 1811] the men of the First Brigade.  At Alesada they were ordered to cook as quickly as possible, an order which is generally ominous of a long march or a fight.  “The bullocks,” says an officer, “on which we were to dine were running and jumping about us, but in less than an hour they were amusing us with more interesting leaps in our camp kettles.  The soup, just off the fire, having been placed before us at the same time that the bugle called us to arms, we were compelled to dispatch it in a state little colder than boiling lead.” They started at 4 p.m.  in hopes of surprising part of Gerard’s Division at Malpartida.  The afternoon was fine, but as the sun went down the rain descended in torrents.  Marching at night is not pleasant in the finest weather, but in storm and darkness, over roads deep in mud and water, with deep ruts and stones over which the weary soldier trips, to fall prostrate in a puddle, it is the greatest trial of endurance; so worn out were some of the men at dawn on the 26th, that had they not expected to meet the enemy they would have broken down.  The French, however, had given them the slip, and on arriving at Malpartida they found that the enemy, warned of their danger by three Spanish deserters, had retired from that town, where General Hill ordered his exhausted troops under cover for twenty-four hours of much-needed rest and refreshment. 

 

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