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
The Rifles were quartered in a convent, and enjoyed for a short time
more comforts than they had known since their arrival in Spain; as every
three men were allowed a straw mattress and one blanket, and I made it a
practice, as long as I could, to see each man provided every morning
with a pint of warm chocolate, at a charge of three-half-pence per day,
and also with soups made with rice, flour, &c. This soon became general
throughout the regiment.
The weather set in very severely, and the morning sun not unusually
brought on a thaw, after a night which had perhaps left the plains
ankle-deep in snow. Our drill ground also lay some distance from the
city, and it frequently happened that after serving the men with new
shoes at the morning parade, preparatory to their going to drill, they
as often returned with them torn to pieces by the stiff mud.
But the most disgusting annoyance I ever met with, was on going to
inspect the company in the colonnades of the convent; as the whole of
our brigade consisting of the Rifles, the 3rd Westminster Grenadiers and
the 6th Scotch were quartered here; every morning therefore at
inspection my ears were saluted with the cries of the unfortunate
soldiers, receiving from one to four dozen lashes, for misdemeanors
committed the evening previous. Indeed it was a duty imposed upon the
Captain of the day, to see these punishments inflicted; but the Colonel
agreeing with me that this might be performed by the orderly subalterns,
I escaped the unpleasant office.
General Evans, however, possibly might not really have been aware of the
real state of the men, and I should be sorry to say that he did not
care. He was very much of the “recluse” at all times, and therefore
insurmountable difficulties lay in the way of a man’s getting a hearing
from him; consequently there was no hope for the poor fellows, save what
might have been expected from the mercy of the Provost, or the whims of
his judges, who may be said to have administered as many sentences as
would have whipped every man in the Legion twice over, with the
exception of hanging, which, in many instances, would have been
preferable; never were punishments carried to such an extent, nor
authority so unlimited or arrogated by any men, as that usurped by the
chief part of the officers of the British Auxiliaries.
Meanwhile, however, the reports circulated in England that the men were
starved for want of rations were unfounded, as the resources of the
neighbourhood, and the fact of our being under the employ of the Spanish
Government, opened even a better medium for supply than what formerly
had been allotted to the British army under the Duke of Wellington.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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