The march to Spain--A hornet's nest--Beating up for quarters--A
momentous question--The reply--Salamanca--Heavy marches.
Three days' march brought us without the walls of Lisbon, where we
halted, and, the tents soon after coming up, were encamped. The second
day after our arrival, as I was lying in my tent, Captain Leech and
Lieutenant Cox entering it, desired me to rise and follow them. We took
the way towards the town, and wandered about the streets for some time.
Both these officers were good-looking men, and, in their Rifle uniform,
with the pelisse hanging from one shoulder, and hessian-boots then
worn, cut a dash, I thought, in the streets of Lisbon. There were no
other English that I could observe in the town this day; and, what with
the glances of the black-eyed lasses from the windows, and the sulky
scowl of the French sentinels as we passed, I thought we caused quite
a sensation in the place. Indeed I believe we were the first men that
entered Lisbon after the arrival of the army without its walls.
After some little time had been spent in looking about us, the officers
spied an hotel, and entering it, walked up-stairs. I myself entered
a sort of taproom below, and found myself in the midst of a large
assemblage of French soldiers, many of whom were wounded, some with
their arms hanging in scarfs, and others bandaged about the head and
face. In short, one half of them appeared to carry tokens of our
bullets of a few days before.
At first they appeared inclined to be civil to me, although my
appearance amongst them caused rather a sensation, I observed, and
three or four rose from their seats, and with all the swagger of
Frenchmen strutted up, and offered to drink with me. I was young then,
and full of the natural animosity against the enemy so prevalent with
John Bull. I hated the French with a deadly hatred, and refused to
drink with them, shewing by my discourteous manner the feelings I
entertained; so they turned off, with a "_Sacré!_" and a "_Bah!_" and,
reseating themselves, commenced talking at an amazing rate all at once,
and no man listening to his fellow.
Although I could not comprehend a word of the language they uttered,
I could pretty well make out that I myself was the subject of the
noise around me. My discourteous manners had offended them, and they
seemed to be working themselves up into a violent rage. One fellow, in
particular, wearing an immense pair of mustachios, and his coat loosely
thrown over his shoulders, his arm being wounded, and in a sling, rose
up, and attempted to harangue the company. He pointed to the pouch at
my waist, which contained my bullets, then to my rifle, and then to
his own wounded arm, and I began to suspect that I should probably get
more than I had bargained for on entering the house, unless I speedily
managed to remove myself out of it, when, luckily, Lieutenant Cox and
Captain Leech entered the room in search of me. They saw at a glance
the state of affairs, and instantly ordered me to quit the room,
themselves covering my retreat.
"Better take care, Harris," said the captain, "how you get amongst such
a party as that again. You do not understand their language; I do: they
meant mischief."
After progressing through various streets, buying leather and
implements for mending our shoes, the two officers desired me again to
await them in the street, and entered a shop close at hand. The day
was hot, and a wine-house being directly opposite me, after waiting
some time, I crossed over, and, going in, called for a cup of wine.
Here I again found myself in the midst of a large assemblage of
French soldiers, and once more an object of curiosity and dislike.
Nevertheless, I paid for my wine, and drank it, regardless of the
clamour my intrusion had again called forth. The host, however,
seemed to understand his guests better than I did, and evidently
anticipated mischief. After in vain trying to make me understand him,
he suddenly jumped from behind his bar, and seizing me by the shoulder
without ceremony, thrust me into the street. I found the two officers
looking anxiously for me when I got out, and not quite easy at my
disappearance. I however excused myself by pleading the heat of the
day, and my anxiety to taste the good wines of Lisbon, and together we
left the town, with our purchases, and reached the camp.
Next morning Captain Leech again entered my tent, and desired me to
pick out three good workmen from the company, take them into the town,
and seek out a shoemaker's shop as near the camp as possible.
"You must get leave to work in the first shop you can find," he said,
"as we have a long march before us, and many of the men without shoes
to their feet."
Accordingly, we carried with us three small sacks filled with old
boots and shoes, and entering Lisbon, went into the first, shoemaker's
shop we saw. Here I endeavoured in vain to make myself understood for
some time. There was a master shoemaker at work and three men. They
did not seem to like our intrusion, and looked very sulky, asking us
various questions, which I could not understand; the only words I could
at all comprehend being "Bonos Irelandos, Brutu Englisa." I thought,
considering we had come so far to fight their battles for them, that
this was the north side of civil; so I signed to the men, and, by way
of explanation of our wishes, and in order to cut the matter short,
they emptied the three sacksful of boots and shoes upon the floor.
We now explained what we would be at; the boots and shoes of the
Rifles spoke for themselves, and, seating ourselves, we commenced work
forthwith.
In this way we continued employed whilst the army lay near Lisbon,
every morning coming in to work, and returning to the camp every night
to sleep.
After we had been there several days, our landlord's family had the
curiosity to come occasionally and take a peep at us. My companions
were noisy, good-tempered, jolly fellows, and usually sang all the time
they hammered and strapped. The mistress of the house, seeing I was
the head man, occasionally came and sat down beside me as I worked,
bringing her daughter, a very handsome dark-eyed Spanish girl, and as a
matter of course I fell in love.
We soon became better acquainted, and the mother, one evening, after
having sat and chattered to me, serving me with wine, and other good
things, on my rising to leave the shop, made a signal for me to follow
her. She had managed to pick up a little English, and I knew a few
words of the Spanish language, so that we could pretty well comprehend
each other's meaning; and after leading me into their sitting-room, she
brought her handsome daughter, and, without more circumstance, offered
her to me for a wife. The offer was a tempting one; but the conditions
of the marriage made it impossible for me to comply, since I was to
change my religion, and desert my colours. The old dame proposed to
conceal me effectually when the army marched; after which I was to live
like a gentleman, with the handsome Maria for a wife.
It was hard to refuse so tempting an offer, with the pretty Maria
endeavouring to back her mother's proposal. I, however, made them
understand that nothing would tempt me to desert; and, promising to try
and get my discharge when I returned to England, protested I would then
return and marry Maria.
Soon after this the army marched for Spain; the Rifles paraded in the
very street where the shop I had so long worked at was situated, and
I saw Maria at the window. As our bugles struck up, she waved her
handkerchief; I returned the salute, and in half an hour had forgotten
all about her. So much for a soldier's love. Our marches were now long
and fatiguing. I do not know how many miles we traversed ere we reached
Almeida, which I was told was the last town in Portugal: some of my
companions said we had come five hundred miles since we left Lisbon.
We now passed to the left, and bade adieu to Portugal for ever. We had
fought and conquered, and felt elated accordingly. Spain was before us,
and every man in the Rifles seemed only anxious to get a rap at the
French again. On and on we toiled, till we reached Salamanca. I love to
remember the appearance of that army, as we moved along at this time.
It was a glorious sight to see our colours spread in these fields. The
men seemed invincible; nothing, I thought, could have beaten them. We
had some of as desperate fellows in the Rifles alone as had ever toiled
under the burning sun of an enemy's country in any age; but I lived to
see hardship and toil lay hundreds of them low, before a few weeks
were over our heads. At Salamanca we stayed seven or eight days, and
during this time the shoemakers were again wanted, and I worked with my
men incessantly during their short halt.
Our marches were now still more arduous; fourteen leagues a-day, I
have heard the men say, we accomplished before we halted; and many
of us were found out, and floored in the road. It became every one
for himself. The load we carried was too great, and we staggered on,
looking neither to the right nor the left. If a man dropped, he found
it no easy matter to get up again, unless his companion assisted him,
and many died of fatigue. As for myself, I was nearly floored by this
march; and on reaching a town one night, which I think was called
Zamora, I fell at the entrance of the first street we came to; the
sight left my eyes, my brain reeled, and I came down like a dead man.
When I recovered my senses, I remember that I crawled into a door
I found open, and, being too ill to rise, lay for some time in the
passage unregarded by the inhabitants.
After I had left the house I have alluded to in the account of the
battle of Roliça, I walked a few paces onwards, when I saw some of
the Rifles lying about and resting. I laid myself down amongst them,
for I felt fatigued. A great many of the French skirmishers were
lying dead just about this spot. I recollect that they had long white
frock-coats on, with the eagle in front of their caps. This was one of
the places from which they had greatly annoyed us; and, to judge from
the appearance of the dead and wounded strewed around, we had returned
the compliment pretty handsomely. I lay upon my back, and, resting
upon my knapsack, examined the enemy in the distance. Their lines were
about a couple of miles off: here they remained stationary, I should
think, until near sunset, when they began to vanish, beating towards
Vimiero, where we had at them again. Whilst I lay watching them, I
observed a dead man directly opposite to me whose singular appearance
had not at first caught my eye. He was lying on his side amongst some
burnt-up bushes; and whether the heat of the firing here had set
these bushes on fire, or from whatever cause they had been ignited,
I cannot take upon me to say; but certain it is (for several of my
companions saw it as well as myself, and cracked many a joke upon the
poor fellow's appearance,) that this man, whom we guessed to have been
French, was as completely roasted as if he had been spitted before a
good kitchen-fire. He was burnt quite brown, every stitch of clothes
was singed off, and he was drawn all up like a dried frog. I called the
attention of one or two men near me, and we examined him, turning him
about with our rifles with no little curiosity. I remember now, with
some surprise, that the miserable fate of this poor fellow called forth
from us very little sympathy, but seemed only to be a subject of mirth.