I called into a wine shop and drank a glass of wine; when I arrived at
the convent, the sergeant of the companies came about me to know when
the captain was going to serve out the pay; I said he had given me
instructions to inform them it would be on Monday; so they rested in
quiet and contentment. In the afternoon the bugler sounded the
non-commissioned officers’ call, and the sergeants of companies had
orders to go to the quarter-master’s stores, and to bring the ornaments
from the stores to the different companies. The sergeant of the company
I belonged to, which was the light company, brought green wings to put
on the jackets, and also the grenadiers with white wings, and the other
eight battalion companies brought small brass plates, of a horseshoe
shape; I did not know much about wings in those days, although belonging
to the rifles, but we all had to appear on church parade with our
different ornaments on the shoulders of our jackets, so the tailors of
the different companies were ordered to get them on as quickly as they
could, or any handy men that could use their needle. I had not been used
to any such thing in the rifles, and I said to a man in the grenadiers,
that if he would comb my wings out, and dress them nicely, I would pay
him well for it. As I knew him I took him down into the town and gave
him a glass of wine; we seldom had a glass of wine without having the
full measure, which was a pint, for three halfpence--he was very
thankful. I said, “I will give you a quarter of a dollar if you will
dress them nicely.” He replied that he would; I remarked, I “may as well
pay you while I am here.” I expected to have found my jacket in the
morning in the place where I usually hang it up, on a peg over my bed,
but when I took my jacket down in the morning to clean it to go on
parade, I found the wings as rough as they were when they were served
out. The scamp had got drunk, and neglected combing my wings out, and
the only part of my dress looking bad on account of the wings being
rough and not combed out; I thought I would have two or three extra
guards given me that day, as the colonel used to inspect the battalion
when the line had to be formed, for the rear rank to step back two paces
for inspection order by the colonel. At the very last minute or two, in
turning out, I wetted a brush to lay the nap down, and went on parade; I
was the right hand man in the light company. The captain came on parade
to inspect the company; he looked at my wings, but said nothing. The
colonel came on parade, and he called out for the battalion to form
line; after we had formed line, he called out for rear rank inspection
order, and then came over to inspect the light company. He looked very
hard at me at the time, I was alarmed about my wings looking so ill; I
said to myself, “I will get two or three extra guards.” The colonel
asked the captain, “What kind of a soldier is this on the right of your
company?” The captain gave me an excellent character, and the colonel
replied that he had often witnessed me coming through the town, and that
I had paid him all military honours. He added, “I appoint him as
corporal;” so, in the room of getting two or three extra guards, as I
thought I should, I was lucky enough to get made full corporal. On
church parade, after the services had been preached by the colonel, he
dismissed the battalion, and we went into our respective quarters. In
the afternoon, the companies’ call was sounded for sergeants of each
company to go to the order room to receive orders. In bringing the
orders from the orderly room, the sergeant came into my room and said to
his brother sergeant, “Who do you think is made corporal of our company
to-day?” he could not tell; the other said, “Thomas Knight.” “Well,” he
said, “a man very well fitted for it, and well disciplined in the
service, and also bears a good name and excellent character.” I went to
the tailor’s shop to get the stripes on, it was the Monday morning
following--after I had got my stripes on, I went to parade as usual.
Shortly after that, we had orders to march to Nangaros, a seaport town
in the Western Islands, and to embark on board of a squadron. All the
soldiers, according to the different positions they were in, took up
their former position under the care of their officers. Captain Charles
Shaw, of my company, acquainted me that we were expecting to land at St.
Michael’s, to go through a field-day along with the other regiments.
Accordingly, we all landed, and went through a field-day there. The
British were very much noticed that day by the inhabitants of the town.
After seven hours under a broiling sun, and the field-day was over, we
had an excellent allowance served out to us; and then we returned on
board our respective ships. In the evening, after we had joined our
ships, we went out in search of the enemy’s squadron, as we had heard
the Don Juan was not many leagues from us; and, having a good fine wind,
the Admiral ordered all sail to be extended, so we went about thirteen
knots an hour. After we had been running about sixteen hours, we had as
foul a wind as we had had fair, and never got sight of her during the
period I was on board. We put back into our old position, beat up and
down the coast, and came into Vigo Bay on Sunday, the 8th of July, 1831.
The Admiral gave orders for the Union Jack to be placed on shore, to see
if anyone would meddle with it. It was on the beach, and the wind
blowing it to its full extent, during the whole of Sunday; but no one
came to meddle with it.
On Monday, the 9th, we landed from the Squadron 12,000 men. Captain
Shaw, of the Light Company of the British Battalion, learned that the
Admiral had to keep us on board to do duty as marines; he gave orders to
the company for all to be ready to jump into the boats when they
lowered; once into the boat, they would be obliged to let us go on
shore. So we all jumped into the different boats to land. There was
plenty of swearing, roaring, and laughing, on our landing, coming off to
the beach side, as there was, at this time, a very rough surf on the
sea. As the boats were running in, one man, standing forward on the
gunwale of the boat, was afraid to jump; I pushed him aside, telling
him to let me pass. I waited my opportunity for the boats going up on
the beach, gave a jump, and cleared it very well, about knee deep in
water. The man just behind me, whom I had before put aside, jumped
immediately after me, and in he went right up to his chin; he spluttered
out mightily, “Arrah, man, I am drowned!” I was standing on the beach,
laughing at him. “Come on, man, you’re not half drowned.”
During the time of our landing, the cavalry of the enemy came out of the
wood, and rode down on the beach to cut off our landing. When they were
within about a hundred and fifty yards from the beach, coming down over
the rocks, the ships fired a few rounds over our heads, and sent the
cavalry to the rightabout. A portion of them retired back into the wood.
As our battalion formed on the top of the rocks, convenient to the wood,
Colonel Hodges called out, “I will give eight dollars to whoever can get
me a mule.” But no mule was to be found, till we saw one that a
countryman was riding up a lane; we seized him and his mule, and gave
the mule to the Colonel.
The whole of our army lay extended along the top of the rocks, some
distance up abreast of the wood, where the General gave orders to the
troops to remain till further orders. When the British battalion was
ordered to take the advanced post and proceed into the wood, the Light
Company had orders to take the advance of the battalion about four or
five hundred yards, and there to lay during the night to keep a sharp
look-out. I was called upon to take six men in advance of the company
about three or four hundred yards, to take up a good position, and place
a sentinel on each side of the road. I was fortunate enough in the
position, and stood so that I could discover a small paddock dividing
the two woods, in which I placed one man behind a tree. I told him to
keep a sharp look-out, and if anyone was seen advancing towards him, to
let him come just near enough to make sure of a shot, and then return to
where I was lying with the other four men. I placed another man on the
left of the road, and gave him proper notice. The man on the right was
very timorous; and as I was leaning my elbow on a wall, watching his
movements, he was turning his head in every direction as if the devil
was alongside of him. I discovered him coming away from his post, so I
cocked my musket as he advanced towards me, and I had twenty minds to
shoot him. I asked him what was the matter with him. He said, “There is
a man in the wood.” “Why not shoot him?” I asked. “I did not like until
I saw you,” he replied. So, with musket cocked, I accompanied him back
to his post, and said, “Now, you stand there until your time is up; if
you offer to run away any more, I will put a ball through you.” “Will
you?” he exclaimed. “You may depend on it,” I answered; “because you put
all our lives in danger by leaving your post exposed.” Poor fellow! it
was a new kind of work to him; and before two hours elapsed he was
turning his head in every direction again, as if the devil was still
alongside of him. I went over to the man on the left side of the road,
who was a staunch one; he called out three times, “Hold! Who comes
there?” “Corporal,” I answered. “Advance, Corporal, and all’s well!”
cried he. “Have you seen anything to-night since you have been on
sentry?;” His name was Witney. “I have seen nothing,” he replied; “I
want a shot so bad, I would fire at an old woman if she came in my way.”
Shortly after I came back to where my other four men were lying, I
warned two men--the next for duty--to go down and relieve those two men.
I went over to the right, as usual, to relieve the soldier and to put
another in his place; he stood behind a tree, and made no reply as to
who was coming. I brought him with me to go over to relieve Witney, and
we came back into the road where I had taken up my position.
As near as I could say, the time of night was about twelve o’clock, when
the captain of my company advanced towards me “privately.” I challenged
him in the usual practice in the British army; he answered the
challenge. I said, “Advance, all’s well.” He asked, “Corporal, have you
seen anything in the wood?” I answered, “No, I have not seen anything
worse than myself.” “I have had an interview with the colonel,” he said,
“who said he heard that the army was going to advance.” Shortly after,
we heard the enemy was very strong, and had taken up their position in a
village in front of us, something about four miles. The army advanced
and the British battalion took the lead of the brigades; I was ordered
to take the advance with the six men for that distance, viz., four
miles. We came into the village, and found it was a false report. There
was no enemy whatever there.
We lay neutral until the day approached. I thought to myself I would try
to get something to drink, and also some provisions for my haversack; so
as to enable me to be strong and long-winded. I got into a house and I
thought I heard a noise. I kept my musket ready cocked to shoot the
first that might oppose me. Some time after, I found it was some of my
own fellows on the same errand as myself, coming up to see what they
could lay hands on. I saw an old Portuguese person, about eighty years
of age; and I asked him could he fill my canteen (in the Portuguese
language) with good wine, and he complied with my request. After I had
got my canteen filled, I was fortunate enough to fall in with half a
loaf of bread. I went through into a garden, and I shook off a few figs
from a tree. In coming back into the yard belonging to the house, I
discovered three Portuguese cavalry in the yard. They called out to me,
in broken English, “Englishman, Englishman, love wine!” I asked, “Would
they have any?” “No, get from old man.” I accordingly went out of the
yard and proceeded up the road, and I discovered, over a middling high
wall, two very beautiful young ladies; they spoke to me in a little
broken English, saying that we were going to fight with Don Miguel’s
army to-morrow. They asked me if I would accept of a drop of wine; I
replied that I had enough, but was very much obliged to them. They then
asked me if I would take any grapes; I answered that I would, so they
gave me a few very large bunches of grapes. I kindly thanked them, and
wished them good-bye. We shortly afterwards had daylight sufficiently
clear to see what we were about.
The army advanced at the dawn of the day to storm the town of Oporto;
the British were kept back that day, to bring up all stragglers over
brooks, hills, rivers, &c. We were under a broiling sun; it was on
Tuesday, the 10th of July, 1831, when we came up in sight of Oporto. The
signal was made from the squadron that went round the bay and over the
bar, and passed the falls of Lordella, close to the river Doura. When
the shipping came up abreast of the township, there was very little to
oppose them; the army pushed forward, and took the town without
exchanging a shot. We then marched through the town with colours flying,
and instruments of the different regiments playing gaily; we came down
to the Arsenal Square, and there we formed close columns, and lay there
till further orders. I said to my next man, “I will have a glass of
wine, as we have taken Oporto.” Captain Shaw coming round, and seeing me
drinking, said, I was showing a bad example to the men, but,
notwithstanding, I went through my degrees of finishing what I had in
the glass (which was a pint one). In the course of the afternoon, about
four o’clock, as we had been in close column about four hours, the
British had orders to proceed to the convent of St. Lazarus, and there
to remain till further orders. We occupied one part of the convent, and
the old invalids of the monks (about two hundred of them) occupied the
other part; they were supposed to be all in number previous to the time
of our taking the town about one thousand one hundred of them, of which
about nine hundred disappeared to fight in Don Miguel’s service. We
occupied the apartments in the convent in which they had formerly lived;
the French regiment occupied another place, at the top part of a street,
called Rutendemoza, at the opposite side of the town; and the regiments
of the line in and out round about Oporto--the Tachedores lay in another
part of the town. There were five regiments of them; as riflemen, they
had the skull and marrow bone on their shakos; they were called “Death
or Glory,” and were very intimate with the British subjects.
During our stay in Oporto, when at various times we had a combat with
the enemy, we went on the Velonga, in the Cassemere road, under an
expectation to fall in with the enemy at three leagues distance, but
when we came there they retreated to Pennyfields. We were fortunate
enough in the morning to fall in with fifty mules loaded with bread to
take into the town of Oporto. We proceeded on to Pennyfields, and in the
three days’ march towards that place, under a broiling sun, and
everything poisoned before us by the enemy, we came into a village two
days’ march from Velonga, a distance of ten leagues (thirty miles). On
the third day I was appointed to guard the colours, along with my
brother non-commission officers; the ensign fell from fatigue, and the
oldest sergeant in the regiment took the colours, and so on, according
to the period of their service. I was appointed (being the oldest
corporal) to take the colours, and carried them about a quarter of a
mile; I was getting over a low wall and fell across the wall with the
colours, my head on one side and my feet on the other. I lay for some
time quite exhausted, never expecting to get up any more. After lying
there for some considerable time, I tried to rise. I got up on my knees
and fell back again; however, I recovered myself after a short period,
and saw an old Portuguese _Paysanne_, or peasant. I called out to him in
Portuguese, as well as I could, and asked him to get me a canteen of
water; he did so, and I thanked him in the Portuguese language. I took a
hearty good drink of it, and was very much revived, and able to get upon
my legs. I went about three hundred yards and discovered another
corporal; I called out to him, but he made no reply. I went over to see
what was the matter with him, and found he was lying in the same
position I had been; I gave him a good drink of water, and he recovered.
I got him on his legs, and we both went along together, almost reeling
from weakness. I discovered about two hundred yards to the right, a
great quantity of soldiers dressed in scarlet; I went over to them to
see what they were, and found them to be a portion of our battalion
lying dead on the ground, forty-four in number. I could not tell or
discover who they were, from their being so much distorted by the poison
they had drunk in the water. Some of them I could see were belonging to
my own company, and some were grenadiers and battalion companies. I came
over to my brother corporal and acquainted him with what I had
witnessed; he asked, “Don’t you know any of their names?” I replied that
I did not, for they were so much disfigured; he said, “Go back again,
and the first man you come to, look at his haversack.” This was done
that one man should not rob another; the first man I came to was a man
of my own company, he was lying on his back. I turned him on his face
and discovered on his haversack, “Richard Ovenden, light company;” “Poor
Dick! you’ll never play the fiddle any more!” He used to amuse us at
Oporto by playing the fiddle of an evening; I came back to my brother
corporal, and told him that Richard Ovenden, of the light company, was
the first man I discovered. We went on together, and I observed a
sergeant a short distance from the road, leaning up against a wall, with
his fusee on his arm; I found he was quite dead and stiff, and the wall
supporting him; I took hold of him and put him under the wall. We
advanced a little further, and I saw two tailors belonging to the
battalion company, one by the name of Pearce, and the other name was
Robinson--they had died together, hand in hand; we went on a little
further, and I discovered a great number of men of all regiments lying
round big waterholes, all poisoned--as many as two or three hundred. It
was a very shocking and sickening sight to see so many brave men sent to
their long account in such a dreadful manner. Our troops at the time had
captured the town, and we got into it more dead than alive. The first
gentleman I saw was Captain Shaw, captain of my company (light company);
he came up to me and shook hands with me, he was very glad to see me; he
heard I was dead under the hill, and I said, “I heard you were dead,
too, captain.” There were orders issued for the men not to take too much
wine or provisions, as, from being without food some time, it was feared
it might have a bad effect. The cavalry had orders to keep their horses
closely fastened, so that they might be ready at any moment, as we were
laying during the night under expectation of the enemy reinforcing
troops from Lisbon. They came up early on the following morning with a
reinforcement; our spies came galloping into town, and acquainted the
general that commanded the whole of the army (Soldano, a gentleman of
Oporto), that they were about twenty-seven thousand strong, and we at
the same time were from seven thousand to eight thousand. We were
ordered to retire back to Oporto, and as fast as possible we occupied a
hill in front, and the enemy in the rear, coming up about a league
distance, where we arrived on the second evening. They brought all their
reinforcements up to the town of Oporto, and were determined to take the
town, if possible; and as they came on the hard roads and across the
fields, the orders were that the officer of the outlying duty was to
touch the train in order to blow up the road, and the enemy with it. It
was reported that there were as many as three thousand blown up by the
trains. The guns from the batteries commenced full play on the enemy’s
columns, supposed to be about three hours’ engagement. When it came to
nightfall the enemy had lost about seven thousand troops; they beat the
retreat during the night, so that we heard no more of them. We marched
back to the convent, the British battalion at Oporto, and lay there till
further orders.
On the 22nd of July we proceeded out on the Cashmere Road, to Velonga.
About three days after marching to the left of the Velonga Road (from
four in the morning till about twelve), the great heat had completely
knocked us up. But I, not quite so bad as the rest, had to draw the
companies’ rations of bread and beef; after placing them under a hedge,
I told the men to fall to. They said, “Too tired, corporal; could not
eat a bit.” “As you please about that; but if you don’t, I’ll make free
with your share.” I then cut off a thumping beef steak, thinking I might
have some hard work in the course of the day; I cooked it nicely, with
the gravy in it, to make me strong and long-winded. But I might have
saved myself the trouble; we soon had orders to retire back to Oporto.
One of our sergeants, not having a shot at the enemy, fired at a donkey
near the road; the men were quizzing him, and I asked him what was his
object for firing at the donkey; he told me to mind my own business. As
we were under the retreat to Oporto, one of our men had unfortunately
got drunk when near the enemy. The sergeant, who had been firing at the
donkey, said he would report the circumstance to the colonel, and the
man told the sergeant to mind his own business,--as he had told Corporal
Knight before. We were still on our way to Oporto. The sergeant, being
on the face of the hill when we halted, fired a shot down among the men.
The colonel came galloping down off the hill on his mule, and asked
whose piece went off. The men informed the colonel that it was Sergeant
Evans’, who had been squabbling with the men, and had got very angry: he
had fired a shot among the privates, luckily without doing any harm. The
colonel ordered him to strip off his belts and to consider himself as a
prisoner; the corporal and four men were ordered to take him on the
advance; I was appointed to take him on. The colonel also ordered his
arms to be pinioned back by his canteen straps, and that he was to be
marched off. I took him on for about three miles: he begged hard that I
would loosen the straps round his arms: I said, “I should not much mind,
but you might try to bolt; and, if you were not to come back, I should
send a messenger after you and order my four men to do the same. If I
killed you, or winged you, they would ask me what business I had to let
you loose. So, safe bind, safe find: as I have got you I will keep you.”
He wanted me to let him walk free with us, but I told him to take it
just as easy as he could. I lodged him in the guard-house at Oporto. He
was never tried, but shipped off to England soon after, as a bad
character.
We used to be originally turned out all hours of a night, and formed
close columns in the town, in the Arsenal Square, and there we lay till
the day approached. We would have orders from the colonels of regiments
to march to our respective convents, and to lay till further orders. On
the 22nd July we received orders to go out to a small village about
three leagues from Oporto, having heard the enemy had been there; when
we came there they were as far to our right. We took up our position
there, and remained for four hours, during which period there was an
order from the Colonel for a non-commissioned officer of companies to
bring up a portion of the men for the purpose of bringing down the
companies’ rations. I took four men with me. While bringing the rations
into camp, they asked me what they were to do with them. I told them to
throw them down there, and let those that liked come and cut them up;
but they replied that they were not hungry. I said, “If you don’t, I
will.” Accordingly I fell to eating, and very much I enjoyed it.
We heard the enemy had come back to Velonga, and we proceeded on our way
to fall in with them. The Tachedores at this time had a strong
engagement with them. When we came up to their assistance they were
being driven up to the top part of the town, where we were coming in. We
opened a smart fire on them, killing and wounding a great many of them;
we kept it up for about seven hours, and took a great many field pieces
of artillery, and a gun belonging to them, in the top part of the town,
which carried a ninety-two pound shot, drawn by twelve working bullocks;
after which, they retired and crossed the river at Ponto Ferrado.
The British lay in camp, and on the following morning advanced, and met
with the enemy at Ponto Ferrado. We crossed the river up to about our
middles. The enemy occupied the hill in front of us. We had about 23,000
men. It being a windy day, the colours were extended to their full size.
They brought the guns to bear upon us, and our brigade of 2,000 charged
to take possession of the guns. It was supposed that we lost about 1,700
men of the brigade in a very few minutes. The General was very much
blamed, from what we could understand, for bringing these men into
action before the others had arrived. Shortly after, the right wing of
the army came over the bridge, some little way down the river, and,
coming round on the back of the enemy, took possession of the artillery,
spiked their guns, dismounted them from their carriages, and the whole
of our army took the hill to scour the troops off. A few
out-skirmishers, under the command of an officer, were beating back
skirmishers. Ours were about thirty in number; fifteen out of the thirty
were French volunteers. We kept the enemy moving pretty smartly,
especially the skirmishers. After going for nearly half a mile, there
was, rather at an incline and some little distance from the hill, a big
gully in front of us. I looked over into the gully and saw a troop of
cavalry belonging to the enemy; they were dismounted, holding their
bridle-reins in their hands, waiting for orders to mount. I remarked to
Mr. Burton, the officer, “Dangerous route to go any further, sir.” “How
so, corporal?” he asked. I replied, “There is a troop of cavalry down
there, right before us.” He said he could not discover them; we spoke in
a very low voice, in order that the enemy’s cavalry should not hear us.
“You come and look over my shoulder,” I said. When he did so, he
discovered them, and gave orders to retire to where we had taken the
brigade.