Adventures of a Soldier, Written by Himself

16 January 1809

Battle of Corunna

CHAPTER I.

The Rifle regiment, it is well known, had distinguished itself, and had suffered severely, especially in the retreat to Corunna under the gallant Moore. From thence, they had embarked for England, where, on their landing, they presented a most deplorable sight. The appearance of the men was squalid and miserable in the extreme. There was scarcely a man amongst them, who had not lost some of his appointments, and many, owing to the horrors of that celebrated retreat, were even without rifles. Their clothing, too, was in tatters, and in such an absolute state of filth as to swarm with vermin. New clothing was immediately served out and the old ordered to be burnt, which order was put into execution at the back of our barracks amid the jests of the men, who congratulated each other on thus getting effectually rid of those myriads of enemies, that had proved such a source of personal discomfort to them abroad.

CHAPTER II.

“Here, men,” exclaimed the commanding officer, pointing to Plunket, “here stands a pattern for the battalion!” Then addressing Tom, he added, “I have ordered a medal for you, in approval of your late gallant conduct at Corunna. Present yourself, Sir, to the master tailor and get on a corporal’s stripes, and I will see you do not want higher promotion, as you continue to deserve it. I love to reward conduct such as yours has hitherto been!”

CHAPTER III.

PLUNKET’S first career in arms was in South America with General Whitelocke, where he acquired the reputation, in his company, of a good soldier. It was at the retreat of Corunna, some years afterwards, that an opportunity particularly presented itself of getting distinguished, and which Tom took in the nick of time. The rear-guard of the British, partly composed of the Light Brigade, notwithstanding the gallantry of some of our cavalry, were exceedingly pressed by the French horse, who were vastly superior to us in that arm. In the neighbourhood of Astorga, in particular, they made several determined charges. In these onsets, a French general, named Colbert, was remarkably active, as well as conspicuous, from riding a grey horse, and, though frequently aimed at by our men, seemed to bear a charmed life, as he invariably escaped. In one of the French charges, headed by this officer, our General, Sir Edward Paget, rode up to the rifles, and offered any man his purse who would shoot this daring Frenchman, whom he pointed out. Plunket immediately started from his company, and running about a hundred yards nearer to the enemy, he threw himself on his back on the road, which was covered with snow, placing his foot in the sling of his rifle, and taking a deliberate aim, shot General Colbert. His Trumpet-Major riding up to him, shared the same fate, from Tom’s unerring rifle. Our men, who had been anxiously watching Tom, immediately cheered him; and he had just time, by running in upon the rear-most sections, to escape some dozen troopers who made chase after him. Our General immediately gave Tom the purse he had promised, with encomiums upon his gallantry, and promised to recommend him to his Colonel, which he did in high terms to Colonel Beckwith. A few days afterwards, when the French attacked Sir John Moore’s position at Corunna, Plunket again became noted for his cool bravery and daring, especially in making some admirable shots, by which they lost many officers.

CHAPTER XXII.

We had in our regiment, at this time, now on board with us, and on his way to England, a sergeant of the name of S——n, (which must be a sufficient explanation to the reader, as he is, I understand, now living, and in London), a fine, smart-looking fellow, about six feet in height. He had been with us during the whole of the Peninsular campaign, and was one of those who, after the battle of Corunna, had remained in Spain. He was now on his passage homeward to his wife, to whom he had been married for ten or eleven years, and whom, some months after the wedding, he was obliged to leave with her friends at Portsmouth to rejoin his regiment, then going abroad; by some unaccountable circumstances, incidental to long campaigns, he never had received any tidings of or from her; and he consequently was now very uncertain as to where he should find her, or whether she were living or dead.