combatants, who had got round him in endeavouring to assist their general. While we were so engaged, and while it was a downright pell-mell, cut-throat, stab-away conflict on both sides, while Bonaparte was looking on, as was said, from a height about a mile distant, a re-inforcement of British dragoons came to the rescue, and the French were compelled to fall back. They left us gainers by the conflict, that is, those of us who had not lost our lives, nor been severely wounded; for we who had been prisoners not only gained our liberty, but we took General Le Febvre and sixty-five or sixty-six of the Imperial Guard prisoners. This encounter was fought near the little town or village called Castro Gonzales, near Benevente.

The commander-in-chief of the Spanish army (Romana) had promised to Sir John Moore to destroy the bridge of Mansilla, and then retire into the mountain fastnesses of the Asturias, whereby he could save his army, and unhurt himself, annoy the French by harassing their flanks, and thus draw some of the impetuosity of pursuit from the rear of the British. But Romana was either unable, or unwilling, or unmindful to perform this duty, and he took the same line of retreat as Sir John Moore. Hence it was that the difficulties in obtaining food and quarters were much increased.

Bonaparte had intended to intercept our retreat by reaching Astorga before us, but he was a day's march too late consequently he halted his own army, and ordered Soult to pursue with such a force as would be sufficient to drive the British into the sea. At Astorga I found my master, who had given me up for lost; and save myself, I had lost everything that was either his or my own. He

was, however, soon satisfied with my explanations, and as neither money nor luggage was of much value where such quantities had to be thrown away or destroyed every day, I had nothing to answer for on that score. I found him appointed to the charge of conducting some valuable stores, among which were two cart-loads of money amounting to twentyfive thousand pounds sterling.

On the line of march, between Benevente and Astorga, the misconduct of the troops had become unmanageable. I speak of military misconduct. Hunger gnawed incessantly; and, nothing could convince starving men that it was improper to take food, even wherever it could be found, or by whatever means procured. The cold, frosty winds curdled their blood and withered their limbs, and they could not be persuaded that it was better to lie in the open air after marching all day until the hour of midnight, than to go into a village or town. They could not and would not admit that it was better to starve in the open fields, than eat and drink within the shelter of the inhabited houses. They therefore forced their way into houses, until these were literally gorged by numbers, and thus confusion of the most disastrous kind continually occurred. One regiment would be in possession of a house according to orders, and the officers of that regiment, with their non-commissioned officers, would be held responsible for any damage done to the families on whom they were quartered. But as the towns and villages were always too small to hold all the regiments, those that were excluded found their way into the quarters of others. Men who had lain down to sleep were trampled on; and these got up and fought with the intruders.

Then there were battles and often bloodshed, during the continuance of which the houses would be robbed, and the grossest crimes committed on the inhabitants. The stores that were formed at various places provided the material for plunder; and as much of these stores had to be abandoned, nothing could prevent the men, worn to desperation, from indulging in

excesses.

At Astorga, Sir John issued a severe general order, to the effect that he would hold officers responsible for all outrages committed by men under their charge; and also promising the punishment of instant death to all men found either in the act of plundering or with plunder in their possession. One man, found in possession of a loaf which he had stolen, was tried before the assembled army and shot. While his body was exhibited before them, the troops were addressed to the effect that all drunkenness would be punished in the same way; but nothing was a punishment nor a terror where suffering was so dreadful and so common. That same day, the magazine of stores formed at Astorga was ordered to be destroyed. In this store was a large quantity of rum, which had been brought from Corunna with much trouble. It was poured out into the gutters, and it streamed along the streets, mingled with all manner of filth. In a minute of time, hundreds of men were on their knees amongst it, laving the filthy stuff into their mouths, or stemming pools with mud, from which they filled their caps and shoes, and drank until many of them tumbled never to rise again.

On New Year's Day, 1809, I reached Villa

Franca. The general and the rear of the army were about two days' march further back; and before they came up, Villa Franca presented a mass of riot, drunkenness, and ravage, that far exceeded all former outrages. The divisions that had preceded us had begun the work of mischief, and those who came up continued it. Houses, shops, and stores were broken open and pillaged. Females fell a prey to drunken violence. Provost guards battled with the lawless, and in many cases were worsted. Several men went raving mad, and shot themselves; others shot their officers and comrades ; and when Sir John Moore came up, he ordered several to be executed in the streets. Next day upwards of one thousand men were left in the houses and streets of Villa Franca, drunk, dead, wounded, or raving mad, and utterly abandoned. "Some few," says a historian who was also an eye-witness, "were persuaded to move on; but the far greater number, in despite of threats and regardless of the approaching enemy, persisted in remaining, and were therefore left to their fate. The cavalry (rear guard), however, only quitted the town on the approach of the enemy, and then, from the sense of immediate danger, was the road filled with stragglers (armed and unarmed), mules, carts, women, and children, in the utmost confusion. The patrol of hussars, which had remained to protect them, was now closely pursued for several miles by five squadrons of French cavalry, who, as they galloped through the long line of stragglers, slashed them with their swords right and left, without mercy, while, overcome with liquor, they could neither make resistance nor get out of the way.'

After the embarkation at Corunna, we are introduced to Joseph Wolfe again :

The troops were embarked as shortly and as expeditiously after the battle as could be done; for the French evinced some intention of again molesting them. The boats crowded to the shore, and brought each its human cargo alongside the ships, where, notwithstanding the heavy surge, the scrambling up the ship's side, the falling back into the boat or the sea, to be bruised, or drenched, or drowned, the woe-begone faces of the whole were lighted up with joy. For a time, the lean and the lame in limb, the shadowy in substance, the hitherto hopeless in mind, and the dying even of that day, wore brightness and life, and were glad that their own country was their destination. But ere they reached England, the greater part would have chosen to be on the mountains of Spain, rather than in the over-crowded, filthy, upheaving, down-plunging, wreck-threatening, gale-tossed ships. For a few days the weather was moderate, and the sea life was endurable. I had managed during the day of the battle to get my friend, Mrs. Margaret Runciman, put on board the same vessel which my master and I were in; and when our full complement of stores and live cargo were taken on board, I for the first time got convenience to ask what had been, and. listen to what were, her principal adventures. Having heard a narrative of five hours' length, and found it was still but a five-hundredth part of what was to come, I left the party who were listeners, and went to attend to my master's business on deck, intending to return.

It was a bright moonlight, and as we bore away