AN ANNIVERSARY

Dominion, Volume 16, Issue 170, 6 April 1923, Page 11

AN ANNIVERSARY

"G.E.A.”)

AND A ROMANCE

(By

As the finger of the student of British History passes down the calendar there will be rew dates whioli lie cannot mark with red, as the anniversary of some noble and gahant action oy the rsavy or Army. To remember these and bo proud of them is the food on which the spirit of a virile nation lives and grows. To forget them spells degeneracy and decay. But nanons are. but human, alid amongst all these triumphs there must be some records of failure and disgrace. It is no less important ’for our health that, while we thrill with pride at our successes, we should not iorget the failures, but take to heart the lessons they teach. Of all such anniversaries there is perhaps none of such absorbing interest as April 6. On that date in the year 1812 the citadel of Badajos was stormed and taken by British troops. It was an amazing act of valour and generalship, which has probably never been equalled. On the next day the garrison surrendered. It was well treated; but, alas, the British soldiers throw- away all discipline and sacked the town. It is a memory of shamo which alnujst blots out the glories of the previous day. The following are the words of one who was present:— “The atrocities committed by our soldiers on the innocent and defenceless inhabitants of the city, no words suffice to depict. Civilised man, when let Ipose and the bonds of morality relaxed, is a far greater beast than the savage, more refined in his cruelty, more fiend-like in every act; and, oh, too truly did our heretofore noble’ soldiers disgrace themselves, though the officers exerted themselves to the utmost to repress it, many who had escaped the enemy being wounded in their merciful attempts!’ " Yet in the midst of this orgio of debauchery began one of the most absorbing and beautiful romances ever cioainedted with the British or any other army. I will quote the following from Sir John Kincaid’s "Random Shots bv a Rifleman” :—

“I was conversing with a friend (Harry Smith, of the 95th Rifles) the day after, at the door of his tent, when ho observed two ladies coming from the- city, who made ■>directly towards us; they seemed both young, and when they came near the elder of the two threw back her mantilla to address us, showing a remarkably handsome figure, with fine features ; but her sallow, sunburnt, and care-worn, though still youthful countenance showed thht in her ‘the time for tender thoughts 'and soft endearments had fled away and gone.’ She at once addressed us in that confident, heroic manner so characteristic) of the high-bred Spanish maiden, told us who they were—tho last of an honourable and ancient house —and referred to an officer high in rank in our army, for the truth of her tale.

“Her husband, she said, was a Spanish officer in a distant part of thtf kingdom; ho might or might not still be living. Yesterday she and this, her young sister, were able to live in afflueiice and in a handsome house; today they knew not where to lay their heads, where to get a change of raiment, or a morsel off bread. Her house was a wreck. ’ To show the indignities to which they had been subjected, she pointed to where the blood was still trickling down their necks, caused by the wrenching of their earrings through the flesh by the hands of worse than savages, who would not take the trouble to unclasp. them I “For herself,” she said, “she cared not, but for the maiden by her side, just received from her convent leathers, she was in despair, and knew not what to do,” and that, ,in the rapine and ruin prevailing ,in the city, she saw no safety for hgr but the seeming indelicacy of coming to the camp and claiming the ;protection of, some British officer; and so great was her faith in our national character, that she knew the appeal would not be in vain, nor the confidence abused. Nor was it made’ in vain. A being more transcendently lovely I had never before seen—one. more amiable I had never yet known.

“Fourteen summers had not yet passed over her youthful countenance; which was of a delicate freshness — more English than Spanish; her face, though not perhaps rigidly beautiful, was nevertheless so remarkably handsome, and so irresitibly attractive, that to look at her was to love her.' And I did love -her, but. never told my love, and in the meantime a more impudent fellow stepned in and' won her. But yet I was happy, for her husband was in every way worthy of her.” The impudent fellow -who married ■her was Lieut. Hany Smith, after- ■ wards Sir Harry Smith. She accompanied her husband through the Peninsular campaign, up to Toulouse in 1814. She did not accompany him on his campaign to America, where he was present at the burning of Washington. She was" with him during his residence in South Africa, and in the Sikh war. Her Christian name was Juana. She was a devoted wife, and the marriage was a happy one, though she had no children. Ladysmith, so famous for its siege in the South African war, was named after her. Towards the close of his lifo, Sir Harry writes:— “Rom that day to this she has been my guardian angel. She has. shared with mo the dangers and privations, tho hardships and fatigues, of a restless life, of war in everv quarter of the globe. No murmur has ever escaped her. Bereft of every relative, of every tie to her country, but the recollection of it. united to a man of different though Christian religion, yet that man has been and ip her all. O, my God, thou hast kindly spared us for each other; we have through Thy -grace been but ’little separate-1, and we have, in unison of soul, received at Thy Holy Altar the blessed sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ. May we, through His mediation, bo still spared to each other in this life, and m the life to come be eternally united in heaven!” From the early thirties Juana had conformed to tho Church of England, and so had been disowned by her remaining Spanish relatives. Surely such a happy union can seldom have sprung from so inauspicious a beginning.