_August 15, Monday._--French prize brought in yesterday, a fine brig of
war of eighteen guns. She was in company with a corvette and another
brig of equal force. They gave chase to an English twenty-gun ship,
which disguised herself and stopped her way. The brig that was taken
outsailed the other and began to engage the Englishman, upon which the
corvette and other brig crowded sail and made off, while their more
honourable companion, after fighting thirty-five minutes, was taken.
[Illustration]
_August 19, Friday._--Wind fresh, six knots, smooth water. At evening
a bird flying like a duck met the ship, and lighted on the foretopsail
yard, where he began looking up and down and all about, peering, as it
were, with his long flexible neck and long beak. When it became dark,
Antonio, a cunning, merry Italian, went aloft to try to catch him,
at which everybody cried, “Fool!”--As he perched with his face aft,
the man got on the foreside the sail (they wondered how the devil he
managed it), and we could see his hands glide under the yard until they
laid hold of the animal, which he brought down with him upon deck, the
enraged creature snapping at him all the time with great dexterity.
[Illustration]
He was very savage and the size and colour of a large goshawk, but a
much slimmer-bodied bird; his pinions, plumage, tail, and standing
position of his body like a hawk; his head but very slightly deviating
from the bulk of his neck; sleek appearance; his long beak hooked at
the end of the upper limb; his eyes, light blue, yet wild, ardent, and
piercing, were placed close to the sit of the beak; his legs short and
thick, of a black colour; his feet large, long, and triangular, the
webs white, and claws at the ends of the toes.
Unfortunately and thoughtlessly Antonio’s wish to have his wing cut was
complied with, and he would not eat.
_August 20, Saturday._--At 6 P.M. land discovered well on the larboard
bow; supposed neighbourhood of Cape Ortegal. Blowing exceeding hard,
heavy sea, eight knots. Bird won’t eat.
_August 21, Sunday._--3 A.M. wind drops. Eight o’clock thick fog;
not yet weathered Cape Finisterre. Having seen the land at no great
distance, and the strange bird refusing all food, I proposed to
liberate him, thinking that of two chances for his life that was the
least desperate, namely, his being able to row to some land where he
might seek his food unassisted by flight. Accordingly the string was
taken from his leg and he was left at large. After walking about a
bit, he came in sight of the water through the door of the gangway
that had been opened for him. He immediately perched upon the edge of
the vessel, looking earnestly about as if to discover land, tried his
wings, seemed sensible of the defect, but at last he stooped and soon
reached the water.
We had endeavoured to palliate the injury by cutting the other wing
exactly in the same manner as the first, not pinioned, merely the ends
of the feathers taken off. When he reached the water he rowed from the
ship with amazing swiftness and began to wash himself and play with
infinite delight, plunging his head into the water, and seeming in
complete enjoyment. The ship was stealing on about a mile and a half an
hour, and we had lost sight of the bird, when, to our great surprise,
he hove again in sight, and seemed pulling after the ship as hard as he
could. There was a very heavy swell, and we could see him dive up hill
and down, and gain upon the ship astonishingly fast. We still could
hardly think he wished to come on board again, until he came close
alongside, and kept close to the gangway (where he had gone from the
ship), looking up with anxiety. A man was then let down to the water’s
edge, when, instead of pulling off, the bird came to him with open
mouth, clapping its wings, and showed the utmost impatience to be taken
up. When he came on board he was much fatigued and his plumage was
wet. He still refused to eat, but a little fish and water was put down
his beak, which he swallowed. He seems weak and ill, and I fear will
die before we are able to relieve him. He is become tame, however, and
has his liberty about the deck, and he knows he may go when he likes,
which I hope comforts him. I would give two guineas at this moment
(and I have but six) to restore him those bits of feathers of which
he was robbed; but, at any rate, he is no longer disgusted with the
nastiness of the ducks, with whom we put him at first, in hopes they
might get acquainted and induce him to take pot-luck with them; but
he treated them with the most scorning contempt, and seemed to think
them most filthy companions, and the devotion and animation with which
he cleansed himself from their filth when he got into the water was
quite beautiful to see. At twelve it cleared up so as we could see the
land--Cape Finisterre. Light breeze. Fog gone.
_August 22, Monday._--This morning the strange bird at four o’clock
leapt again from the side and pulled from the ship with a swift and
steady course until out of sight. He kept up his looks amazingly well,
and probably the fish and water stuffed down his throat sustained him,
and, as if aware that he had exhausted himself before, he never stayed
to wash or amuse himself. Fare him well.
_August 24, Wednesday._--Fogs, foul wind, good breeze towards evening.
Land ahead. Signal made for Mondego, and bear away accordingly.
_August 25, Thursday._--A nice breeze at 12 A.M. and very clear. Sandy
shore, sand hills, north of Mondego. Lay to for three ships astern.
_August 26, Friday._--Breeze blowing right out of harbour. Very angry
at the wind; expect not to get in to-day. At half-past nine boat
alongside. Onions, pears, apples, apricots, bread. Learn from them
that the great fleet is gone to Lisbon, and am then sure that we shall
follow. Soon after signal to steer W.S.W.
_August 27._--Dead calm, fog, rain, heavy sea.
Foul breeze.
Sad work.
_August 31, Wednesday._--At 5 A.M. Rock of Lisbon in sight. Pass
through Sir Harry Burrard’s fleet on their way to England. When we come
abreast of the Rock, seven o’clock, we soon hear from the agent that
the army had made a bad business of the landing, which took place on
the Maer, many lives being lost. It was supposed that we were either to
land in the same place, should the wind favour, or return to Mondego.
An action had taken place, in which Sir H. Burrard was in person. 5000
French taken, 800 British lost. The British forces said to consist of
Sir A. Wellesley’s expedition. Stand in at ten o’clock for the Rock of
Lisbon. Come in sight of the Tagus blockading fleet, under command of
Sir Charles Cotton. Bring to, then go on the starboard tack, and God
knows when or where we shall land. _Eurydice_ leaves us for Halifax.
_September 1._--Still tacking for Lisbon. I go on board--the commander
of the convoy, Captain Mayne--_Primrose_ brig sloop.
Tell him that, being astray, I was just now particularly anxious to get
to the army, as I supposed the Engineers might possibly be actively
employed. He then told me that the game was up, that Junot was allowed
to return to France with his troops and plunder, but that the English
had told the Russian Admiral that he must either surrender or fight;
that Sir J. M. and Sir A. W. were raving at Sir H. D.[19] and Sir H. B.
on account of the terms allowed to General Junot, and that we should go
in to-day or to-morrow. Stand out till twelve. Wind blowing very hard.
_September 2, Friday._--Signal to anchor. Beat up towards an anchorage
near the Rock of Lisbon, where the _African_ and convoy had brought
up last night. At nine o’clock see a Russian flag of truce go to the
British Admiral.
Come to an anchor off Cascaes at two o’clock. Go on shore. See Captain
M’Leod of the _Barfleur_. Find on inquiry that it is not known where
the army was. It had been at Mafia, but it appeared that it was moving.
The 42nd Regiment, commanded by Colonel Stirling, had taken port at
Cascaes. The Colonel despaired of getting important despatches to
Sir Henry, so I determined not to set out for the army until their
situation is known. Write home.
OFF CASCAES, _Sept. 3, 1808_.
MY LOUISA--After the most tedious and provoking passage we came to
an anchor yesterday noon off the fortified town named in the date,
at the entrance to the Tagus. Things are in this situation, General
Junot having lost a battle, much to the glory of Sir A. Wellesley
and his army, in which the enemy were nearly two to one. Sir Henry
Dalrymple, by terms which at the first view appear unaccountably
favourable to the French, has induced him to capitulate, and he,
with his troops, are to be sent in our transport to Rochefort, and
the Russian fleet on the Tagus, we hear, is to be taken to England
under Russian colours, to await the event of negotiations with the
autocrat.
In pursuance of this treaty, Fort São Julião, and all the works and
places more remote from Lisbon, are already under English colours,
and it is expected that to-day or to-morrow the embarkation of
the French will take place. Sir Harry Burrard, they say, arrived
himself just before the action commenced, having landed at Mondego,
but left Sir A. Wellesley to carry through the plan of battle,
which was fully designed. The event was that the enemy were
amazingly beaten.
Just as the French had fallen back on their entrenchments, it is
said that intelligence was brought of Sir J. Moore having arrived
with 14,000 men, which new situation of things and proportion of
armies relatively convinced Sir Harry Burrard that the enemy must
capitulate, and although (it is said) Sir A. Wellesley did all
but _kneel_, saying that unless he was permitted to follow up the
glory of the day that of the army would be tarnished, Sir H. B.
persisted in putting a stop to hostilities, and a capitulation has
been finally entered into by which the main point is carried, but
in which the pride of the army and the wishes of the Portuguese
do hardly appear to have been sufficiently considered. The enemy
was at our feet, and after very hard fighting the army had a right
to conquest, and after being ground by their oppressors, the
Portuguese should have been allowed the natural triumph of seeing
the objects of their abhorrence humbled.
I went yesterday to Cascaes, with intent to join the army, but the
commanding officer (colonel of the 42nd) knew not where it was, and
could not forward despatches of importance to the General. To-day I
shall go to the Fort São Julião and make a stout attempt to get to
them, but all fighting is over here. Farewell, own lass.