ARRIVAL of General Whitelock with reinforcements - Departure for Buenos Ayres - Attack of the Town - Unfortunate result - Anecdote of a Sergeant - Generous behaviour of the Spanish priest.
Thus had I passed my time, until the arrival of General Whitelock, with reinforcements, in the beginning of June 1807. It was the middle of winter at Monte Video; the nights were frosty, with now and then a little snow, and great showers of hail as large as beans. In the day, dreadful rains deluged all around. We had sometimes thunder and lightning. One night in particular, the whole earth seemed one continued blaze; the mountain, on the side of which the town is built, re-echoed the thunder, as if it would rend in pieces. The whole inhabitants flocked to the churches, or kneeled in the streets.
On the arrival of the reinforcements, we were formed into a brigade, along with the light companies of the 36th, 38th, 40th, 87th, and four companies of the 95th regiments. On the 28th June, we assembled near Ensenada de Barragon, with the whole army, and commenced our march towards Buenos Ayres.
The country is almost all level, and covered with long clover that reached to our waists, and large herds of bullocks and horses, which seemed to run wild. The weather was very wet. For days I had not a dry article on my body. We crossed many morasses in our march, in one of which I lost my shoes, and was under the necessity of marching the rest of the way barefooted. We passed the river at a ford called Passorico, under the command of Major-General Gower. Here we drove back a body of the enemy. We were next day joined by General Whitelock, and the remainder of the army. Upon his joining us, the line was formed by Sir Samuel Auchmuty on the left, stretching towards a convent called the Recoletta, distant from the left about two miles. Two regiments were stationed on the right. Brigadier-General Crawford's brigade occupied the centre, and possessed the principal avenues to the town, which was distant from the great square and fort three miles. Three regiments extended towards the Residenta, on the right. The town and suburbs are built in squares of about 140 yards on each side; and all the houses are flat on the top for the use of the inhabitants, who go upon them to enjoy the cool of the evening. These, we were told, they meant to occupy with their slaves, and fire down upon us as we charged through the streets. From the disposition of our army, the town was nearly surrounded. We remained under arms on the morning of the 5th of July, waiting the order to advance. Judge our astonishment when the word was given to march without ammunition, with fixed bayonets only. "We are betrayed," was whispered through the ranks. "Mind your duty, my lads onwards, onwards, Britain for ever!" were the last words I heard our noble Captain Brookman utter. He fell as we entered the town. Onwards we rushed, carrying every thing before us, scrambling over ditches, and other impediments which the inhabitants had placed in our way. At the corner of every street, and flanking all the ditches, they had placed cannon that thinned our ranks every step we took. Still onwards we drove, up one street, down another, until we came to the church of St Domingo, where the colours of the 71st regiment had been placed, as a trophy, over the shrine of the Virgin Mary. We made a sally into it, and took them from that disgraceful resting place, where they had remained ever since the surrender of General Beresford to General Liniers. Now we were going to sally out in triumph. The Spaniards had not been idle. The entrances of the church were barricaded, and cannon placed at each entrance. We were forced to surrender, and were marched to prison.
It was there I first learned the complete failure of our enterprise. During the time we were charging through the streets, many of our men made sallies into the houses in search of plunder; and many were encumbered with it at the time of our surrender. One sergeant of the 38th had made a longish hole in his wooden canteen, like that over the money-drawer in the counter of a retail shop; into it he slipped all the money he could lay his hands upon. As he came out of a house he had been ransacking, he was shot through the head. In his fall the canteen burst, and a great many doubloons ran in all directions on the street. Then commenced a scramble for the money, and about eighteen men were shot, grasping at the gold they were never to enjoy. They even snatched it from their dying companions, although they themselves were to be in the same situation the next moment.
We were all searched, and every article that was Spanish taken from us; but we were allowed to keep the rest. During the search, one soldier, who had a good many doubloons, put them into his Camp-kettle, with flesh and water above them; placed all upon a fire, and kept them safe. There were about one hundred of us, who had been taken in the church, marched out of prison to be shot, unless we produced a gold crucifix of great value, that was amissing. We stood in a large circle of Spaniards and Indians. Their levelled pieces and savage looks gave us little to hope, unless the crucifix was produced. It was found on the ground on the spot where we stood; but it was not known who had taken it. The troops retired and we were allowed to go back to prison without further molestation.
Four days after we were made prisoners, the good priest I had conversed with in the house of Maria de Parides, came to me in prison, and offered to obtain my release, if I would only say that I would, at any future time, embrace the Catholic faith. He held out many inducements. I thanked him kindly for his offer, but told him it was impossible I ever could. He said, "I have done my duty as a servant of God; now I will do it as a man." He never again spoke to me of changing my religion; yet he visited me every day with some comfort or another.
Donald M'Donald was quite at home all the time we had been in South America. He was a good Catholic, (1) and much caressed by the Spaniards. He attended mass regularly, bowed to all processions, and was in their eyes every thing a good Catholic ought to be. He often thought of remaining at Buenos Ayres, under the protection of the worthy priest; he had actually agreed to do so, when the order for our release arrived. We were to join General Whitelock on the next day, after fourteen days' confinement. Donald was still wavering, yet most inclined to stay. I sung to him, "Lochaber no more!" (2) the tears started into his eyes - he dashed them off - "Na, na! I canna stay, I'd maybe return to Lochaber nae mair." The good priest was hurt at his retracting his promise, yet was not offended. He said, "It is natural. I once loved Spain above all the other parts of the world; but - " here he checked himself, gave us his blessing, and ten doubloons a piece, and left us. We immediately, upon our release, set out on our return to Britain, and had an agreeable and quick passage, in which nothing particular occurred.
(1) Many of the Scottish Highlanders are Roman Catholics, particularly those of the name of M'Donald.
(2) A favourite national air.
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