Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon, Volume 2Lever, Charles
General
Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon, Volume 2
Lever, Charles
Peninsular War, 1807-1814 -- Fiction
Massena was now recalled, and Marmont, having assumed the command of
the French, army, retired towards Salamanca, while our troops went into
cantonments upon the Aguada. A period of inaction succeeded to our previous
life of bustle and excitement, and the whole interest of the campaign was
now centred in Beresford’s army, exposed to Soult in Estramadura.
On the 15th Lord Wellington set out for that province, having already
directed a strong force to march upon Badajos.
“Well, O’Malley,” said Crawfurd, as he returned from bidding Lord
Wellington good-by, “your business is all right; the commander-in-chief has
signed my recommendation, and you will get your troop.”
While I continued to express my grateful acknowledgments for his kindness,
the general, apparently inattentive to all I was saying, paced the room
with hurried steps, stopping every now and then to glance at a large map of
Spain which covered one wall of the apartment, while he muttered to himself
some broken and disjointed sentences.
“Eight leagues--too weak in cavalry--with the left upon Fuenta Grenaldo--a
strong position. O’Malley, you’ll take a troop of dragoons and patrol the
country towards Castro; you’ll reconnoitre the position the Sixth Corps
occupies, but avoid any collision with the enemy’s pickets, keeping the
Azava between you and them. Take rations for three days.”
“When shall I set out, sir?”
“Now!” was the reply.
Knowing with what pleasure the hardy veteran recognized anything like
alacrity and despatch, I resolved to gratify him; and before half an hour
had elapsed, was ready with my troop to receive his final orders.
“Well done, boy!” said he, as he came to the door of the hut, “you’ve lost
no time. I don’t believe I have any further instructions to give you; to
ascertain as far as possible the probable movement of the enemy is my
object, that’s all.” As he spoke this, he waved his hand, and wishing me
“Good-by,” walked leisurely back into the house. I saw that his mind was
occupied by other thoughts; and although I desired to obtain some more
accurate information for my guidance, knowing his dislike to questions, I
merely returned his salute, and set forth upon my journey.
The morning was beautiful; the sun had risen about an hour, and the earth,
refreshed by the heavy dew of the night, was breathing forth all its
luxuriant fragrance. The river which flowed beside us was clear as crystal,
showing beneath its eddying current the shining, pebbly bed, while upon
the surface, the water-lilies floated or sank as the motion of the stream
inclined. The tall cork-trees spread their shadows about us, and the richly
plumed birds hopped from branch to branch awaking the echoes with their
notes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account