Читать книгу The Story of a Peninsular Veteran. Sergeant in the Forty-Third Light Infantry, during the Peninsular War онлайн

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It will be imagined by every person, civil or military, that the mind of a commander, though of the firmest texture, in the situation of Sir John Moore, must have been severely exercised; and during this stage of the retreat the unavoidable difficulties of the army were inflamed by the unhappy intemperance of several who ought to have known and acted better. On arriving at Bembibre, the immense wine vaults established there exhibited such temptations, that hundreds of the men, unable to exert themselves, or even to stand, were unavoidably left behind. That refreshment was needed, no one can doubt; but it is more difficult to be temperate than abstemious; the first healthful draught led to many an inordinate one. Confusion worse confounded was the necessary result. There was an heterogeneous mass of marauders, drunkards, muleteers, women, and children; the weather was dreadful; and, notwithstanding the utmost exertions of the superior officers, when the reserve marched next morning the number of these unfortunate persons was not diminished. Leaving a small guard to protect this bacchanalian crew, Sir John Moore proceeded to Calcabellos; and scarcely had the reserve marched out of the village, when some French cavalry appeared. In a moment the road was filled with the miserable stragglers, who came crowding after the troops, some with loud shrieks of distress, others with brutal exclamations. Many, overcome with fear, threw away their arms. Many more who preserved theirs were so stupidly intoxicated that they were unable to fire; and kept reeling to and fro, insensible both to their danger and disgrace. The enemy’s horsemen perceiving this confusion bore down at a gallop, broke through the disorderly mob, cutting to the right and left as they passed, and riding so close to the columns, that the infantry were forced to halt in order to check their forwardness.