Under Wellington's Command: A Tale of the Peninsular WarHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
General
Under Wellington's Command: A Tale of the Peninsular War
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Historical fiction; Peninsular War, 1807-1814 -- Juvenile fiction
Terence had ridden over, the afternoon before, to the valley; where
he found that but two hundred of the guerillas remained. Fifty of
these were on the point of leaving, the rest would remain with
Moras through the winter.
On arrival at Pinhel after three days' marching, he reported
himself to General Crawford. The general himself was absent but,
from the head of his staff, he received an order on the
quartermaster's department. Tents for his men were at once given
him, and a spot pointed out for their encampment. Six regiments
were, he heard, in the immediate neighbourhood; and among them he
found, to his great joy, were the Mayo Fusiliers. As soon as the
tents were erected, rations drawn, and a party despatched to obtain
straw for bedding from the quartermaster's department, Terence left
Herrara and the two majors to see that the troops were made
comfortable, and then rode over with Ryan to the camp of the
Fusiliers.
They were received with the heartiest welcome by the colonel and
officers; in whose ranks, however, there were several gaps, for the
regiment had suffered heavily at Fuentes d'Onoro.
"So you have been taken prisoner again, Terence!" Captain O'Grady
exclaimed; "sure, it must be on purpose you did it. Anyone may get
taken prisoner once; but when it happens twice, it begins to look
as if he was fonder of French rations than of French guns."
"I didn't think of it in that light, O'Grady; but now you put it
so, I will try and not get caught for the third time."
"We heard of your return, of course, and that you had gone straight
with your regiment to Miranda. We had a line from Dicky, the day
before he started; and mighty unkind we have thought it that neither
of you have sent us a word since then, and you with nothing to do at
all, at all; while we have been marching and countermarching, now
here and now there, now backwards and now forwards, ever since
Fuentes d'Onoro, till one's legs were ready to drop off one."
"Give someone else a chance to put in a word, O'Grady," the colonel
said. "Here we are, all dying to know how O'Connor slipped through
the hands of the French again; and sorra a word can anyone get in,
when your tongue is once loosened. If you are not quiet, I will
take him away with me to my own quarters; and just ask two or three
men, who know how to hold their tongue, to come up and listen to
his story."
"I will be as silent as a mouse, colonel dear," O'Grady said,
humbly; "though I would point out that O'Connor, being a colonel
like yourself, and in no way under your orders, might take it into
his head to prefer to stop with us here, instead of going with you.
"Now, Terence, we are all waiting for your story. Why don't you go
on?"
"Because, as you see, I am hard at work eating, just at present. We
have marched twenty miles this morning, with nothing but a crust of
bread at starting; and the story will keep much better than
luncheon."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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