[The following particulars of the retreat of the British army under Sir John Moore, are taken from "Letters written by an Officer," lately published.] strating against their want of every thing necessary to support life under so laborious and harrassing a march. Situated as we were, these evils, as far as they depended on our leader, were hardly to be avoided. Retreating in so numerous a multitude, and all confined to the same road Villa Franca, Jan. 1809. During this part of our campaign I found that much discontent existed with the officers of our diffether (so closely were we pressed by rent regiment respecting provisions: but while they murmured amongst themselves, only complaints were loudly preferred by the men, remon States, containing the following humane, philanthropic article, in the formation of which Dr. Franklin, as one of the American plenipotentiaries, was principally concerned, viz. ART. XXIII. If war should arise between the two contracting parties, the merchants of either country, then residing in the other, shall be allowed to remain nine months to collect their debts and settle their affairs, and may depart freely, carrying off all their effects without molestation or hindrance: and all women and children, scholars of every faculty, cultivators of the earth, artizans, manufacturers, and fishermen, unarmed and inhabiting unfortified towns, villages, or places, and in general all others whose Occupations are for the common subsistence and benefit of mankind, shall be allowed to continue their respective employments, and shall not be molested in their persons, nor shall their houses or goods be burnt or otherwise destroyed, nor their fields wasted, by the armed force of the enemy into whose power, by the events of war, they may happen to fall; but if any thing is necessary to be taken from them for the use of such armed force, the same shall be paid for at a reasonable price. And all merchant and trading vessels employed in exchunging the products of different places, and thereby rendering the necessaries, con- . veniencies, and comforts of human life more easy to be obtained, and more general, shall be allowed to pass free and unmolested; and neither of the contracting powers shall grant or issue any commission to any private armed vessels, empowering them to take or destroy such truding vessels or interrupt such com merce. without the option of choosing ano the enemy), was one cause of our present straits. The produce of the country had already been almost wholly devoured by the French: judge then how difficult it would be to provide, even in the barest manner, provisions sufficient to subsist so large a body. And when we add to this failure at the very source, the waste which is occasioned by the turbulent conduct of the soldiers them selves, you will not be surprized that one half of the army should be entirely without food. It is to be lamented that the offcers have not applied themselves to remedy this evil, by seeing that the men receive their rations in an orderly manner. The non-commissioned officers are at these times of no avail; no respect is paid either to their remonstrances or commands; and the men crowd to the doors of the diffe rent houses, where wines &c. are to be given out; and with the most impatient and tumultous vehemence demand their supply. Not waiting to be served in proper rotation, they force their way into the place, helping themselves, and destroying in their haste half what was prepared for those who were to follow; oversetting the wine, trampling on every thing, and terrifying the affrighted native, whose charge it was to dispense the provisions, until for his own safety's sake, he makes the best of his way from amongst such a herd of unrestrainable and violent men. This, with many other instances of the like nature, mark the wide difference between a retreating and an advancing army. In the on case, all is hope, spirit, and honour. In the other, disappointment, dejection, and anticipated contempt, entirely change the man, and make him incur the very obloquy he fears. Retreat is never an agreeable movement at the best; and when at the worst, as it is with us, no fancy can imagine its misery, no pen describe its horrors! Every object which presented itself on the roads and in the villages were so many proofs of the terrors of war, and of the devastation that surrounded us. Famishing peasantry fled by us with gaunt and horrid looks; while, as we marched along we passed their kindred of all ages, dying and dead, without power to relieve them, or to rescue our own followers from a similar fate. But it was not enough that our track should be strewed with the expiring bodies of our fellow-creatures: the poor animals who had supported our way-worn frames, who had dragged our baggage from steep to steep, fell exhausted on the earth, and in countless numbers heaped the sides of the road. In short, not a day, not aŋ hour passed without adding some new calamity to our distress and wretchedness. The army in no respect seemed the remains of the same we had brought from Portugal. Its appearance, its discipline, were gone. You could not suppose that the officers it was before so ready to obey, commanded it now; all deference to their orders was lost; and it was with the greatest difficulty that we could deter the men from not only pillaging, but cominitting every excess which is hardly excuseable in an enemy. Even with all our exertions, we saw villages and houses burning in all directions; some put in that condition by negligence, but many, I must say, by the wantonness of our refractory men. The poor cottagers were plundered; and multitudes of homeless, destitute people were con tinually hastening to the officers as they came up, imploring them for a redress which was out of their power ̧ to bestow. Alas! our pity and regret were all we had to offer: and they retired in an anguish, the 1ecollection of which even now wrings my soul. But it is not compassion alone which excites what is now passing in my breast; it is shame for dishonoured England-dishonoured by the indignant despair of her troops, even while her own faithful hand was opened to abundantly succour the nation in which we suffered. It is true, we have been deceived, abandoned in Spain; but the treachery or weakness of others should be no lesson to teach us base retaliation. Every officer with the. army feels in this respect as I do; and are more grieved at such misconduct in our troops than by all their other misfortunes. So great was the terror their violence created, these firings of houses, these plunderings of property, that we even spread a desart before us. As soon as the peasantry heard of our approach they fled; and often on our arrival in a place we found it deserted. The road 'leading to the town whence I now, address you was covered with these unhappy fugitives, both male and female of every age. Scarcely a mile was traversed without our viewing broken down waggons, and destroyed ammunition, mingled with the carcases of our own invaluable horses piled on each other. A little onward, we saw other groupes plunging in the agonies of death; having been lamed from fatigue and want of shoeing. At the moment they fell, we were obliged to shoot them, for fear of their becoming the spoil of the enemy; or of being starved for want of a nourishment the desolated ground could no longer yield. Thus was the scene; sad and dire ful enough, without any extraneous calamity; but the elements were to lend their horrors also. The pouring clouds were to throw their torrents upon the heads of our fainting troops; rendering the roads almost impassable for our mules and wheeled carriages; destroying the already tattered shoes of our soldiery; and drenching their emaciated bodies with a wet which we had no fires to dry, no alimental powers to repel. On quitting Bembeberes, where myself and several other officers (accompanied by our horses, whom we considered as faithful friends) took up our abode in the barn of a winepress, the country bore a very romantic aspect; and in the summer, when the war is far distant from its groves and Arcadian recesses, it must afford an enchanting seclusion to those who are enamoured of nature in her garb of trees and founts, and winding streams, and gentlest beauty. The whole way from Astorga to Villa Franca the landscape is thus lovely; and often it called from my breast a sincere sigh, that ambition so troubles this earth as to call distant nations, even from the north, to stem her torrent, and to dye with their blood the flower-enamelled southern plains. We are now at Villa Franca: I must here drop my pen. I dare not tell you of the dreadful objects that lie before me as I look from my window they are enough to make one muse even to madness. But others are in prospect. The stage for many a wretched scene I see in yon distant mountains, whose pale heads we must pass over before we can rest with any security. On their cold bosoms, how many of ours may lie, never to move more!、 Adieu, dear S-! Different, far different were the letters I expected to write to you from this land of vaunted enthusiasm. Alas! that words have been given to us instead of actions! Words that have made me the recorder of disaster instead of victory, Lugo, Jan. 1809. What I had before witnessed on our march was but a faint sketch of what I was yet to see in the full horrors of death and desolation. We were now in the heart of a stupendous country cleft into abyss-like ravines, and over-laid with a deep and trackless snow. Thus did the month of January, 1809, close, as well as open a miserable new year on thousands. Brought into regions, in many parts above the clouds, with no provisions to sustain nature, no shelter to shield us momentarily from the storm, no fuel to warm us, no safe spot whereon to linger for an instant to rest; but all one waste of severest winter. Imagine such a place: then think of the other disasters incidental to war. The sick and wounded dragged over these immeasurable tracks; the beasts which draw their waggons failing at every step, and they left to perish in the snows, or to fall into the hands of the enemy. I shall never forget the horrors of these dreadful days. The field of battle is a festival of honour; a sublime pageant. But this is war! Here are the red dragons yoked to her fiery car! Here are her sufferings, her woes, her wide destructions. Every yard we passed over was marked with some heart-rending proof of our miseries. Ah, little need would- the French have to seek our line of march! It might be traced for many a league by our over-turned baggage, by our maimed cattle, by our dying and dead. When we had nearly gained the highest point of these slippery precipices, I looked round, and saw the rear of the army winding along the narrow road; I saw their way marked by the wretched people who lay on all sides expiring from fatigue and the severity of the cold. As their bodies reddened in spots the white surface of the ground, I could not but think on the lines of Hohen- Ah, few shall part where many meet! their bones lie on the mountains of Spain, an everlasting reproach to her ungrateful sons. I observed amongst the unfortunates a Portuguese bullock driver. He was on his knees amidst the snow, with his hands clasped, breathing forth a prayer for his soul. This poor fellow had attended us from the first day of our march, and, thus faithful to our service, expired. I was a very few paces from him when his last groan pierced my ears. Near him lay a wo-man, half enveloped in a blanket, the wife of a soldier; she was also cold in death. A little infant, yet living, was hanging at the breast of its inanimate mother, vainly endeavouring to find that warmth and nourishment which fate had for ever withdrawn. Were I to enumerate every afflicting object which met my view during this dreadful mountain march, I should fill a volume instead of a sheet; I should unman your heart, and send my reader weeping from the tale. But one more I will repeat, and then for a short time, at least, adieu to these narrations. too agonizing to bear a second glance. A blanket thrown over her soon hid her from our sight; and we had the satisfaction of seeing the poor infants given in charge to a woman who came up in one of the bullock carts, In winding round the road (which was bounded the whole way, with terrific precipices) at the turning of an angle rather more sheltered than the rest from the iron-icy sleet that tore along the sloping ravines, we saw the body of a woman lying in a situation, that for misery, while she was sensible to its horrors, must have been unequalled. She was dead; and two little babes, to which she had just given birth, lay strug gling in the snow. The scene was A continuation of these spectacles opened upon us all the way to Lu go, and doubly proved the reasona bleness of my former objections gainst women being the followers an army into hostile scenes. find it hard to bear the fatigues of severe campaign, how must women sink under them! And if men find them insupportable, what must be the dreadfully varied fate of the feebler sex! No wonder that the corses of these unhappy females strew our path, when our bravest fellows fall faint and incapable of further exertion. Two battles could hardly have cost us more men than I fear we shall find missing when we have leisure to enumerate our loss. The ascent of this mountain will have deprived us of thousands, besides the dead left on the way; for those who yet survive and lie on the road must, in their defenceless state, surrender to the enemy. The darkness of a Cimmerian winter-night veiled these dismal pictures from our eyes: and we continued our weary route in a silence which was alone interrupted by the howlings of the blast, or the dying groans of our dropping companions. At last we arrived at what was denomimated a village; but it was almost buried in the snow, and with some difficulty a few of us made our way under shelter, Even so slight a comfort was comparative heaven. I, with my party, got into a poor hovel, and lighting a fue (our only refreshment, for provisions we had none,) laid ourselves around it, placing our horses to enjoy it in an outer circle, till the dawn summoned the dark curtain of fate, us to advance, and again rolled up We now began to descend the tremendous pass, crossing several bridges, which we immediately attempted to destroy with the hope of impeding the approach of our enemy; but an evil genius seemed to thwart all our efforts. Every éxertion that was made to compass their destruction failed; and thus all facility was left to smooth the passage of the French in their pursuit. On the 4th we arrived at Lugo, where we shall remain to give time for our stragglers who are able to come up; and, I suppose, we shall here settle some plan for a division of our force; part to march to Vigo, and part to Corunna. At present, our numbers increase our distress. Amongst the minor misfortunes which attended our hard pressed ascent up this terrible mountain was the necessity we found ourselves in to disencumber the march of a considerable weight of dollars. Unable to conceal them, we were obliged to hurl them into the adjacent valley. The means of transporting them farther had failed; the animals which had drawn them, fell down dead on the road; and as many thousands of horses and mules shared the same fate, to find any to supply their place was now impossible. The close pursuit of the French did not allow us time to distribute them amongst the officers and men; hence no alternative was left but to commit them to the bosom of the snow. There, I hope, they will be buried till the departure of the present win try shroud unveils to some lucky peasantry this mine of silver. The same reason that prevailed with us to sacrifice this wealth, also compelled us to abandon about seventy or eighty Spanish waggons filled with clothes, shoes, &c. for the use of the nation; all which we brought from England, and all which must now fall into the hands of our enemies. A hundred patriots we left as their guard; but I have no doubt that they, as well as their charge, are now in possession of the French, who must have come up with them on the second of this month, about a couple of leagues on this side of Villa Franca. We cannot but particularly regret, in the midst of the general supineness, the apathy to our situa tion and to their own ultimate bene fit which seems to enchain the Galicians. Although many of them have shewed themselves to us from the mountain tops in arms; and well aware as they are of the use they might be in covering our retreat; yet no exertion has been attempted on their part to arrest the progress of the French even for a moment: such an effort could easily have been made from their knowledge of these their native bulwarks; and its success would most probably have been commensurate with their zeal. Deserted as we had been in the first instance by the boasting patriots of Spain; yet, I must confess, that on seeing these men with muskets, &c. prowling about in large bodies a mongst the heights, we took it for granted they had turned out to support us, and that we should soon hear of their making some signal attempt to impede the march of our enemies; but these our natural expectations were soon silenced by the event. These valiant Galicians, these redoubted patriots, were only leaving their homes that they might not assist us; having previously secreted every thing which might have been rendered serviceable, and driven away their mules and oxen into the distant fastnesses, whither themselves were now eagerly hastening. When we arrived at these deserted dwellings, we found no remnant of bread for ourselves; not a straw for our famishing cattle, and not a beast to replace even one of the vast multitudes we had unavailingly lost in their service, Our draft animals |