Adventures of a Soldier, Written by Himself: Being the Memoirs of Edward Costello, K.S.F. Formerly a Non-Commissioned Officer in the Rifle Brigade, Late Captain in the British Legion, and Now One of the Wardens of the Tower of London; Comprising Narratives of the Campaigns in the Peninsula under the Duke of Wellington, and the Subsequent Civil Wars in Spain.Costello, Edward
History
Adventures of a Soldier, Written by Himself: Being the Memoirs of Edward Costello, K.S.F. Formerly a Non-Commissioned Officer in the Rifle Brigade, Late Captain in the British Legion, and Now One of the Wardens of the Tower of London; Comprising Narratives of the Campaigns in the Peninsula under the Duke of Wellington, and the Subsequent Civil Wars in Spain.
Costello, Edward
Peninsular War, 1807-1814 -- Personal narratives, British
We had a deal of trouble with the Belgians especially. These fellows
would go forth in sections, and lay everything waste before them. This
was not for want, as they were well supplied with regular rations daily
from Paris, which we were aware of. As soon as they perceived the guard
hemming them in on all sides, they would invariably salute us with
brickbats, stones, and sometimes even make a regular attack. But Stanway
seldom let any escape him.
One morning we brought in sixteen of them, and the Provost, as usual,
marched them into the little yard where the punishments were generally
inflicted. The triangles stared them in the face from the centre of the
ground, and the culprits one and all, as soon as they rolled their eyes
on it, gave a bellow of horror, fell on their knees, and commenced
praying and crossing themselves, and other symptoms of repentance; but
Stanway was inexorable. Our men had the greatest difficulty in
unbreeching them, and getting them tied to the halberts. The first
stripped, I recollect was a short, stumpy, fat, desperate-looking
fellow, who by the circumference of his seat of honour, and his
struggles for its safety, seemed to bear about it all the honour of his
native Belgium. The first whistle of the cat, even before it reached
him, appeared to have verified the assumption, for he roared to such a
degree, and his fellow-culprits sympathised so loudly, and with such a
crash of Belgic, that it set the whole vicinity by the ears, and
actually aroused their whole regiment quartered in the village, and the
place became in an uproar. The Belgians flew to arms and instantly
surrounded the guard-house; Stanway nevertheless was determined not to
relax his duty, and ordered every man of us to load, and placed us in
different parts of the building, barricading the doorways, prepared for
every resistance, and during intervals continued the flagellation. The
assailants meanwhile became furious, and attempted to scale the walls
for a rescue, but they were kept off by the guard with fixed bayonets,
until a shower of brickbats, &c., being thrown over the walls, made us
gladly retire into the building. Our lives were now in jeopardy; not a
man of us dared to stir out, until a signal being given to some English
soldiers who were passing, these gave the alarm to the division then
encamped outside the village, and our Rifles, followed by the 52nd, came
instantly to our assistance.
The two regiments remained under arms the whole night, and the Belgians,
out of bravado, retired to a field, a little distance from them, and
kept under arms also. The morning after the occurrence they were removed
from Clichy, and we saw no more of them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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