Memoirs of the Late War, Vol 1 (of 2): Comprising the Personal Narrative of Captain Cooke, of the 43rd Regiment Light Infantry; the History of the Campaign of 1809 in Portugal, by the Earl of Munster; and a Narrative of the Campaign of 1814 in Holland, by Lieut. T. W. D. Moodie, H. P. 21st FusileersCooke, John Henry, Sir
History
Memoirs of the Late War, Vol 1 (of 2): Comprising the Personal Narrative of Captain Cooke, of the 43rd Regiment Light Infantry; the History of the Campaign of 1809 in Portugal, by the Earl of Munster; and a Narrative of the Campaign of 1814 in Holland, by Lieut. T. W. D. Moodie, H. P. 21st Fusileers
Cooke, John Henry, Sir
Europe -- History -- 1789-1815
We had no sooner heard of the large town in the vicinity, than we
began to prepare for the visit; however, it struck me that it would be
very refreshing to enjoy a swim first, and also wishing my horse to
participate in the luxury, I stripped myself and mounted its back, and
together we plunged into the stream; but, as ill luck would have it,
for a moment, the provoking animal hardly made any exertion, so down
he went, and thinking there was no time to be lost, I sprang from his
back; but owing to his plunging I received a slanting kick on my chest,
such as most probably would have proved fatal, had the full weight of
the blow struck me direct. The animal, however, soon recovered itself,
and swimming with the current, it was with considerable difficulty I
succeeded in getting it on shore.
Valladolid is a fine old city, (with a spacious square,) the
inhabitants of which were glad to see us, but evinced none of those
rapturous and warm expressions of delight displayed by those of
Salamanca.
The next morning we crossed the river, and branched off in the
direction of Madrid. Having halted a day or two, we again became in
motion, and struck on an excellent road, leading to the capital. Many
exclaimed, "Is this the road to Madrid? are we really going to the
capital of Spain, the centre of romance"? My mind was filled with all
sorts of illusions, and various anticipations of pleasure; my rest
was disturbed, and my dreams were of Madrid; every day's march was
counted, every object brought something new, and I made up my mind to
dance every night when I should arrive. Continuing our route, we had
reached within two days' march of the city of Segovia, in the kingdom
of old Castile, and occupied a pine wood. On seeing an officer pass,
who was likely to give me every information relative to the movements
of the army, I issued from my small Portuguese tent, and entered into
conversation with him, which lasted a considerable time. Being without
my cap, I felt the top of my head extremely hot from the rays of the
sun, and was about to withdraw several times for a covering, which
unluckily I failed to do. When the dinner-hour arrived, composed of
rice and boiled beef, (without any bread or biscuit,) my appetite
failed, and I laid me down, in hopes that a few hours' sleep would
restore me. At daylight, the following morning, we were again _en
route_, and had just cleared the sandy wood, enveloped in dust, when
a sudden giddiness seized me, and I fell from my horse. On recovering
my senses, I found myself supported by an officer. There was no water
to be procured, and, on overtaking the division, I was advised to ride
gently on to avoid the dust.
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