Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of Spain and the Peninsular War

by Herbert Strang

  *CHAPTER XIV*

  *An Incident at Cacabellos*

  Stragglers--Oblique Oration--The Massacre at Bembibre--Moore's Appeal--AShot in the Dark--A Souvenir

  There was no rest for Jack or his friends that night. On returning tohis quarters he found that Colonel Beckwith had called the officers ofthe regiment together, and was already addressing them with more thanusual seriousness. He told them that their hope of making a stand atAstorga was fated to be disappointed. Sir John Moore had decided tocontinue the retreat with all speed, either towards Vigo or towardsCorunna.

  "It is useless to pretend I am pleased," said the colonel. "None of usare that. Some of the youngsters among us may think that things wouldbe ordered differently if they were in command. That's not ourbusiness. The general is satisfied that his reasons are good, and allwe have to do is to obey orders. And that brings me to the point. Aretreating army is always apt to get out of hand, and a British armyperhaps more than any other. Take any man in the regiment and he'll askyou why he should retreat, and what the dickens is the good of runningaway from a Frenchman. We've seen already what disorder andruffianliness have disgraced some of the regiments. And I tell you,gentlemen, I won't have that in the 95th. We shall from this time form apart of the actual rear-guard. The second battalion leaves, with otherregiments, direct for Vigo to cover our left flank. The safety of thewhole army will therefore depend much on us. The French won't let usoff lightly. We shall often be in touch with them, and if there's anywant of steadiness they'll get through us, and then it's all up. I askyou then, gentlemen, every one of you, to keep a tight hand on the men.There must be no slackness, no relaxation of discipline. The honour ofthe regiment is in your keeping, and, by heaven! I'll never lift myhead again if the 95th fails me."

  The colonel's vehement words sent a thrill through the group, and JackLumsden was not the only officer among them who vowed inwardly not todisappoint "old Sidney". Beckwith went on to prescribe their immediateduties. He alluded to the confusion and disorder in which they had foundthe town, in great part due to the unexpected presence of La Romana'sragged regiments. The place had been crammed with stores, consisting ofshoes, blankets, tools, muskets, ammunition, from which many of thepreceding regiments had been partially re-equipped. But in the haste andmuddle the distribution had been mismanaged. Many of the stores hadbeen left behind, and the town was full of British and Spanishstragglers eager to plunder where they could. The colonel instructedhis officers to see that pillaging was checked as much as possible.What stores could not be removed were to be destroyed.

  During the night, therefore, Jack and his chums were busy in carryingout the colonel's orders. It was found next day that there were notsufficient draught animals to serve for the transport of all theremaining stores, and the 95th were employed for many hours in burningand blowing up valuable stuff to prevent it from falling into the handsof the French.

  The regiments of the Reserve were to march in the evening for Cambarros,a village some nine miles in the direction of Villafranca. Before theystarted, Captain O'Hare paraded his company and repeated to them thesubstance of what Colonel Beckwith had said to the officers.

  "I've heard a deal of grumbling at times," he said. "You don't want toretreat. No more do I, but our chance'll come, please the pigs; andthen I know who'll be at the front--not the grumblers and skulkers, butthe men who know how to obey. Now, my boys, I trust ye. I don't wantthe general to send for me by and by and say: 'O'Hare, ye've the mostblackguardly company in the whole army.' We'll do better than the best,and sure I'll be proud of ye. And if there should be a man among yewith a deal o' power over the company--a good soldier let us say, butwith a long tongue and a way of speaking that--well, a way ofspeaking"--the captain studiously kept his eyes from Corporal Wilkes:"if there's such a man, to him I'd say, with all my solemn seriousness:Ye've a deal of persuasion; then use it for the glory o' the regiment;and bedad, I believe he'd know what I meant."

  Corporal Wilkes, looking straight in front of him, had turned abrick-red, and was unusually silent as the company marched off. ToSergeant Jones, the little Welshman, toddling along by his side, heremarked presently:

  "I hope you'll mind what Peter said, Sergeant. As for me, 'tis a goodthing for the glory o' the regiment that the second battalion's offanother way, for all my good resolutions would be turned into sour milkby the long fiddle-face of Corp'ril MacWhirter."

  After their sleepless night, and hard work during the day, both officersand men were glad to fling themselves down on rough beds of hay andstraw when they reached Cambarros at dusk. But they had hardly settledto rest when some dragoons came riding in with news that the enemy wereadvancing in force. The order was immediately given to get under arms,and the march was continued through the night.

  The Reserve reached Bembibre, a dirty village of mud and slate, atdaybreak on January 1st, expecting now at least to enjoy the rest somuch desired. But again they were disappointed. On entering thevillage they were at once ordered to pile arms and clear the place. Itpresented the appearance of a town that had recently been stormed andput to the sack. It happened to be a depot for the wine produced in theneighbouring vineyards, and large quantities were stored in the vaultsand cellars of the houses. The inhabitants had shown themselvesunfriendly to the regiments of the main body of Moore's army, and hadprovided food and drink for them only with the greatest reluctance. Theresult was that the men of the least-disciplined regiments broke allbounds, and set furiously to work to get for themselves what theSpaniards had denied them. Doors were wrenched off, windows smashed,property of all kinds destroyed; and the unfortunate discovery of solarge a stock of wine had the worst consequences. Those were the dayswhen hard drinking was the rule in all classes of society. It waslittle to be expected, then, that rough soldiers, suffering thehardships of exhausting marches on short rations, and feeling bittershame and humiliation at having to retreat continually before a despisedenemy, should prove able to withstand the temptation to excess. Readyto fight like bull-dogs if the call came, they lost all sense ofresponsibility at the sight of means to enjoyment, and set theirofficers at defiance.

  The Reserve spent that day and part of the next in chasing thestragglers from the houses and driving them along the streets towardsthe mountains; but the task had been only partly accomplished whencavalry pickets came in and reported that French dragoons were pushingrapidly down the Manzanal pass in their rear.

  "We must leave the ruffians to their fate," cried General Pagetfuriously, ordering the Reserve to march out towards Cacabellos. Notuntil late in the day did the 95th learn from the last of the hussarpickets what had happened when they left Bembibre. Lahoussaye'sdragoons had come galloping into the village, riding through the groupsof stragglers who flocked staggeringly along the road when they heardthe noise of the pursuing horse, and slashing at them as a schoolboydoes at thistles. The French made no distinction of age or sex. Theyhewed their way indiscriminately through drunken redcoats, women, andchildren. Even mothers who held up their babies, pleading for mercy onthem, were struck down as ruthlessly as soldiers with arms in theirhands. Few escaped. Those who did bore terrible signs, in sabre-cuts onhead and shoulders, of the revenge the French horse had wreaked fortheir defeat at Benavente.

  The road from Bembibre led over the crests of the Galician hills, withravines and gorges and precipitous crags on both sides. Then it made arapid and crooked descent, ending in a valley through which dashed athundering river, white with foam, bearing huge stones and logs alongwith it in its tempestuous rush from the Asturian mountains to theocean. Here the hill-slopes were covered with gaunt trees, which,though now bare of foliage, threw a mysterious gloom over the narrowroad. Marching rapidly down this road against a beating storm of sleet,and whipping up innumerable stragglers on the way, the 95th at lengtharrived at Cacabellos.

  Here, just as they halted, Sir John Moore met them, having ridden backwith
his staff the five or six miles from Villafranca, where the mainbody had bivouacked. The regiments of the Reserve were at once formed upin columns in the fields by the roadside. Sir John, his fine face linedwith care and sorrow, took up a position in their midst, and then, inhis clear penetrating voice, amid a silence broken only by the distantthunder of the torrent, he spoke in stern biting phrases of the disorderand want of discipline he had lately witnessed. With a pungent ironythat made many ears tingle, the commander-in-chief concluded his addressthus:

  "And if the enemy are now in possession of Bembibre, as I believe theyare, they have got a rare prize! They have taken or cut to pieces manyhundreds of drunken British cowards--for none but unprincipled cowardswould get drunk in presence, nay in the very sight, of the enemies oftheir country; and sooner than survive the disgrace of such infamousmisconduct, I hope that the first cannon-ball fired by the enemy maytake me in the head."

  After a few words, addressed specially to the 28th, which had doneglorious service with him in Egypt, Sir John turned rein and rode backto Villafranca. His words made a deep impression on both officers andmen. Previous appeals had not been in vain. The reserve regiments hadkept much better discipline and committed fewer excesses than the mainbody, and the general's stern speech deepened the resolve of all goodsoldiers to abstain from disorder, and merit Sir John's approbation.

  Alas! all were not animated by the same spirit. General Paget bade themen encamp some distance away from the town, and gave orders that no onewas to enter the streets unless accompanied by a non-commissionedofficer, who was to be held responsible for the orderly return of thosecommitted to his charge. But no sooner had darkness fallen over thecamp than many of the soldiers, forgetting the reproof of Sir JohnMoore, forgetting the subsequent appeals of the company officers,escaped from their lines, and, entering the town, resumed the old workof plundering. During the night many were arrested by the patrols, andtwo men were seized in the act of committing a serious crime, of whichfew had yet been guilty. They were maltreating and robbing a poor oldSpaniard, who, paralysed with fright, was piteously beseeching them totake all that he had, but to do him no harm.

  "This means a drumhead court-martial!" said Captain O'Hare when thematter was reported. "Keep the men in irons; Lumsden, take a note tothe general from me."

  Jack had delivered his note, and was returning to his quarters, when, ashe passed along a broad road shadowed by trees on one side and a highwall on the other, he felt that someone was dogging him. He had heardno pursuing footsteps; he was at a loss to account for his strangeuneasiness; but, obeying an impulse of which he was only half-conscious,he turned suddenly round, moving as he did so a little towards the wallon his right. At the same moment there was a report and a flash. Abullet whizzed past him; he could feel the rush of air on his cheek,there was a dull thud as the missile flattened itself on the stone wall.Springing forward in the direction of the report, he could just discernin the murk a tall figure scuttling for cover among the trees.

  The man had a dozen yards' start, but Jack, always a good sprinter, hadreduced the gap by half when his quarry disappeared into the trees. Itwas a narrow belt of chestnuts about three or four deep, and, followingthe sound of the footsteps in front, Jack dashed through, heedless ofobstacles. A moment's scramble among roots and brambles brought him tothe far side; his assailant had turned sharp to the right and wasscampering towards a high wall running parallel with the belt on theopposite side of the road. With a fine spurt Jack reduced the gap to anarm's-length; his outstretched hand was within a few inches of the man'scollar, when, to his utter amazement, the pursued disappeared into thewall. Jack shot past an open door, and before he could check hisprogress there was a violent bang and the sound of falling bolts. Jackpushed against the door, then threw himself upon it with all his force;it did not even creak. The wall was too high to clamber over; it wastoo long to go round; he had perforce to relinquish the thought offurther pursuit.

  "Some poor demented Spaniard who has lost his all, perhaps," he thought,and was about to resume his walk when he noticed a small triangle ofcloth projecting between the door and the jamb. The would-be assassin'scloak had caught, and, but that the door was rather clumsily fitted,would have prevented its being closed. Without any definite motive, Jackdrew his sword and cut off the strip, which he put into his pocket,where it lay for many days forgotten. He said nothing about theadventure to his fellow-officers, and it did not keep him awake for aninstant when, at a late hour that night, he threw himself, worn out,upon his uncomfortable bed.