On the day following this entry, the 11th of January, Coruña was reached. As they drew near to the coast, Moore, quitting at last his post with the Reserve, went forward, passing regiment after regiment, and anxiously scanning the distant sea for the transports which he hoped to find in waiting. But they were not there. During the greater part of a fortnight he had been incessantly at work, conducting this arduous retreat, bringing his Army through dangers and difficulties innumerable. Perpetual fighting had been the order of the day. Yet not once had the Regiments of the Reserve, either horse or foot, been beaten; not once had the rear-guard quailed. Some seventy or eighty thousand soldiers, trained veterans of Napoleon, at first under Napoleon himself, and then under two of his most experienced commanders, had striven hard to overtake Moore, to outflank him, to cut off his little force of twenty-three thousand men. But they had been baffled. More than two hundred and fifty miles of rough country had been traversed, in bleakest winter weather; and the Army reached Coruña, somewhat lessened in numbers, it is true, yet absolutely unbroken. And though baggage had had to be abandoned or destroyed, for lack of means to convey it further, though a few small cannon had had to be left behind for the same reason, not a single British gun had been captured in fight, not a single standard or military trophy of any kind had been taken. In after years there were men who lightly criticised this retreat, calling it needless, and wondering why Moore had not made a stand, or had not continued his advance. Small wonder was it that Charles Napier, who in the Reserve had gone through the whole, and who from actual knowledge understood it all, should, in the face of these after-criticisms, break into bitter and passionate words in defence of that beloved Chief, under whose eyes he had fought. And though he was somewhat hard upon the people of England, not only because they had no means of knowing the true state of affairs, but because also it was but a section of them who criticised thus, yet one can well understand what he must have felt. “Had Moore sacrificed an Army, instead of saving one, he would have been perfect in the eyes of his country. Nothing but his unpardonable humanity, which made him fancy England cared as much for her soldiers as he did, caused him to act as he did act. Had he saved his own life, and contrived to have twenty thousand bayoneted—and I firmly believe he was the only man in our Army who could have saved us—he would have done a job for which England would have made him anything he wished. Alas, for himself, he thought of everything but himself! Fortunately, another Hero has come up. But we want both!” So wrote Charles Napier, himself one of England’s Heroes. (_To be continued._) FOOTNOTES: [1] _Early Military Life of General Sir George Napier._