_April 1809._--As my stay is remembered with indifference, it was not
marked by any high degree of satisfaction. Although I did not pretend
to form a deliberate opinion upon the affairs of the Peninsula, yet my
involuntary belief was that there would be no campaign.
I considered Sir John Moore’s retreat as a lesson likely to teach
caution to the British Government, and that they would not now venture
to stake the flower of her army on the fate of Spain against the wishes
of the nation, seeing that they could hardly answer for having done so
when the popular voice was loud in their favour. I thought that unless
the Spaniards themselves demonstrated that, in a military light, they
could balance their enemies, and were capable in the line of operations
of supporting their character as the main army, (which hitherto they
had plainly shown they could not do), any further assistance of British
troops would be firmly withheld.
The character of the Commander-in-Chief at that time confirmed me in
this opinion respecting the intentions of the Government. Because he
was not a man of known military talents, and it was likely enough that,
since the employment of General Whitelock, Sir Henry Dalrymple, and Sir
Harry Burrard, the favourite principle with our latter statesmen--“that
experience and reputation are not required in a fully instructed
General”--had been abandoned.
As I considered the kingdom of Portugal incapable of defence, except by
an army nearly equal to the offensive one, so I felt assured that when
the crisis of its fate arrived, a British army that sought to protect
it would “stand alone.”
I was led to believe that so soon as a very superior French army should
have leisure to move against Portugal, the British army would withdraw
and resign her to a fate which it could not control.
As these ideas, however erroneous and indiscreet, possessed my mind, in
spite of the warlike breathings of some that I conversed with, I could
not help considering my return to England as neither improbable nor
very remote, and instead, therefore, of bracing myself for the field, I
considered how I might render the time I passed at Lisbon as agreeable
as might be, in which pursuit I expected much assistance from some
letters of recommendation of which I was the bearer.
The letters on which I most depended were given me by a dear friend
and relation to an Englishman of the first rank and consequence in
Lisbon, who was invested with a delegated power, and supreme in his
particular department, and as this personage had his family at Lisbon,
an introduction to him had a very promising aspect.
My other letter, given me by a military acquaintance, was to an
Austrian Chevalier, also a person of consequence in Lisbon, residing
there with his family.
I could not in reason expect any great things from being the bearer of
a letter from a person with whom I had no particular intimacy, and of
which I was not the particular object, but only mentioned as being so
good as to take charge of the letter. I carried both on the same day.
The Austrian Chevalier was laid up with the gout. I left the letter and
a card.
The Englishman was also laid up with the gout. I left a letter for
himself and another for his lady, and with each a card, and having thus
arranged my lines I returned.
The next morning I received a note from the Austrian, contrived with
the most engaging and elegant politeness, the substance of which was,
that the Chevalier, sensible of the honour I had done him in bringing
him a letter from his friend and mine, trusted that I would dispense
with the ceremony of visiting, in favour of an invalid, and allow
him and his family to make an acquaintance from which they promised
themselves great pleasure, and that, when he had made my acquaintance,
he trusted he should be able to persuade me to give him the pleasure of
my company as much as I could, and to be a frequent inmate in his house.
It was not long before I made a second visit, and though the Chevalier
was still in bed, yet his daughters were so good as to receive me,
and that in so agreeable and sincere a manner, accompanied by such
an honest invitation from their father, that, very much pleased, I
was resolved it should not be my fault if I did not reap the full
advantages of such engaging conduct.
My story with respect to the Englishman is sooner told. The fate of
my letters to him will perhaps never be known, as he took not the
slightest notice of them or their carrier.
I was billeted in the house of an obliging Italian in the best street,
where the Commander-in-Chief, the Engineer mess, and everything that it
was desirable to be near to, were situated.
The mess was very bad, but the mates (as is almost always the case
in the corps to which I have the pleasure to belong) were very good
and entertaining. Burgos, Mortimer, and myself formed an indissoluble
trio, from which union I cannot express the pride and pleasure I have
derived for several years, and which I hope will last me through life.
Besides Burgos and Mortimer were several interesting characters which
I shall have occasion to notice as I go along, and among others was
little Archer, a friend of my boyhood; Captain Notpat, whom I scarcely
knew; and Captain Packman, convivial, festive, and good-natured to a
great degree, and several younger men. Our Chief, a man of indisputable
worth and bland manners, used also to honour us with his society.
I had not dined here many days before my little friend Archer took me
into his room and desired me to carry his defiance to Captain Notpat,
who had offended him beyond reparation.
Before I inquired into particulars I reviled my little friend for being
too warlike in this particular, as it was not the first nor the second
time that I had known him in similar circumstances. He defended himself
as well as he could, declared himself averse to duelling, and said he
should be very glad if the Captain would act so as to let the affair
end peaceably.
Upon this I declared myself very ready to act in quality of mediator if
the affair would admit of adjustment, and he would promise to be ruled
by my advice, but, at the same time, I declared my unvarying resolution
not to interfere if matters took a hostile turn.
Fully master then of my friend’s story, and armed with full powers to
treat, I knocked at the Captain’s door. He was not gone to bed, and
seemed preparing for a field-day.
He received me involuntarily as his adversary’s second, and
ceremoniously begged me to be seated.
My friend, I found, had stated the matter very fairly. The Captain had
been provoked at table rather by a teasing manner than any tangible
offence, and in revenge he had told my friend in broad terms that he
asserted an untruth, and that he might consider the accusation in any
light he pleased. Now, though the Captain is a man whose good qualities
do sink his imperfections into insignificance, yet had he some certain
simplicity or want of usage of the world unfitting his situation and
line of life, and this laid him a little open to quizzing, a game at
which my friend was not unskilled and much too apt; but fighting is not
the way to oppose quizzing, and it appeared to me that in justice and
fairness the Captain stood as the unprovoked assailant.
I represented with what force I could the melancholy consequences which
might ensue, and which he must be sensible would be laid at his door.
“You acknowledge,” said I, “that you gave an insult which you knew
could not be passed over, but which you were determined should stop the
provoking manner which my friend had for some time pointed at you? Is
this the only way in which you can oppose the flippancy of a boy? You
have given him an insult which obliges him to call you out, for unless
you do away the insult, I will never advise him not to do what I would
do myself; and have you turned over in your mind what may be the state
of things to-morrow evening? The best that can happen to you, according
to my opinion of your feelings, is to receive your adversary’s bullet;
and in that case have you reflected upon what grounds you think
yourself entitled to close the days of your parents in misery, and to
cast a lasting grief upon all your relations? Perhaps to-morrow evening
that youth against whom you have no enmity, with whom you have lived
in friendship, and whom you know to be worthy, will be stretched in
the ghastliness of a violent death, and weltering in the blood which
you have lightly shed. What will be your feelings on looking at such a
spectacle, the entire work of your own hands? It will not be his fault,
for if he submits to an insult he will be despised, and he had better
die; but by sending me to you he has opened the door to atonement, and
I expect the proof of your courage and magnanimity will be to make it
with candour, than which nothing is more noble or more suitable to the
character of a gentleman and a man of honour.”
The Captain did my address the honour to open his eyes, and saw that
it would be infinitely better to avoid an action. He wrote a candid
note, to which my friend returned a friendly answer.
I was thanked by both parties, and retired at 2 o’clock A.M., extremely
satisfied with myself to have gained so important and very difficult a
victory, for my dispute with the Captain was much longer than boots it
to set down.
* * * * *
On the 4th April a fleet of transports, having on board six regiments
under the orders of General Hill, entered the Tagus, which force was
landed on the 5th, and incorporated with the army of Portugal, and on
the 6th the regiments of which it was composed marched by different
routes to join the respective brigades to which Sir J. Craddock’s
arrangements attached them.
The arrival of this force, and still more the rumoured appointment of
Sir A. Wellesley to the command in Portugal, turned the train of my
ideas; and soon after there followed the general cry of “Forward,”
and an intimation to us that we had better mount ourselves as fast as
possible.
Whether this bold determination were caused by the Austrian War
(which was no longer uncertain), and extended to the liberation of
Spain, or whether it were supposed that Soult had put himself into a
_cul-de-sac_, and the campaign had no further object than to destroy
him, I could not judge, because I was ignorant of the amount of the
French force actually in Spain, and also ignorant of the nature and
extent of the Spanish forces, with which in that country we must of
necessity co-operate.
It was, however, pretty certain that knocks were toward, and so it
behoved to provide myself with a thick doublet.
The rest of my residence in Lisbon, but a few days, was fully taken up
in buying horses and in making travelling arrangements. I was so lucky
as to get a wee mulette worth her weight in gold, and I called her
Sukey.
When the French entered Oporto by storm, the most important capture
they made was two British officers of engineers, Captain Goldfinch
and Lieutenant Thompson (a boy). Now Captain Goldfinch left at Lisbon
in charge of Captain Packman a fine red-brown stallion, a horse fiery
in his gait, gentle in his curvets, soft in his manage, swift in his
courses, and no mauler of leather. Thirty pounds was the price that had
been paid for him, at which sum he was offered to me, upon condition
that in case of the owner’s return it should be at his option to
reclaim him. I snatched at this offer, for the horse if sold outright
would have fetched half as much more. So far, so well, my charger and
my baggager were excellent. I now only wanted a second charger, and the
devil and Burgos advised me to buy an English mare that was worn to
the bones, but might be got into condition and be worth double what was
asked.
This was downright gambling, and I lost, as will appear in the sequel.
In the arrangements made by the chief engineer, Burgos and myself were
attached to the right column, consisting of a brigade of Guards under
General Harry Campbell, and a brigade of Infantry under General A.
Campbell, who in the absence of General Sherbrooke commanded the column.
Now General Sherbrooke and General H. Campbell were Nottinghamshire
friends, and therefore the Guards were likely to be forward; this,
added to the society of Burgos as a campaigning chum, was the very
arrangement for which I was disposed to intrigue. It had, however,
taken place in consequence of changes in the distribution of the army,
for Burgos had gone to another division under a former plan two days
ago, but was now to receive orders to join me as soon as possible.
Captain Notpat received sudden orders to go to Abrantes in pursuance
of an application from the Marshal Beresford. Captain Packman was to
move with the Chief, as well as my friend Mortimer, which, with a few
others, formed the party _du génie_ moving with headquarters.
Now my servant’s name was Louis, and he was an Italian. Louis, when I
picked him up, looked like a very decayed gentleman, his clothes having
the cut gentle, but the thread bare, the assortment incongruous, and
the articles ill-adapted to his shape. His Hessian boots came above his
knees, and were partly obscured by the eaves of his nankeen pantaloons,
that had been washed so often as would perhaps have made a Blackamoor
white. The warp and the woof of a blue spotted waistcoat were disunited
in the pockets and buttons, and his coat was made for a much larger
man. His hat was broken in that part of the brim which meets the hand
in salutations. His hair was sandy, lanky, long, and dishevelled. On
a dirty shirt was displayed a large brooch, the _gage d’amour_ of
some sentimental lass, for he had that sleek, effeminate, sodden, yet
bearded visage often thought handsome in pictures by means of regular
features, and known to be taking in reality among some of the opposite
sex. He was about thirty, had a sepulchral voice, and seemed to have
destroyed his constitution; yet was he a wit and an accomplished beau
in his own circle, and very probably styled “the charming Louis.”
He got me my milk and eggs of a morning very carefully, but I saw
that he was no Bernardo. When I consulted Louis on the line of march,
he informed me with much respect that he was unable to walk from
infirmity, and seeing me embarrassed about my mare’s sore back, he was
so active and obliging as to seek out one who was willing to make a
swap with me.
The beast offered in exchange was so rippish that I rejected him, and
endeavoured to patch the matter by hiring a beast for Louis the next
day, which was to be his care, and so all things were arranged for my
departure.
I had taken leave of the Austrian Chevalier, and performed all due and
accustomed rights, nor had I any regret at the thoughts of quitting
this celebrated city. I write letters home.
LISBON, _Sunday, April 9_.
MY DEAREST MAMSEY--We have a report here that Sir Arthur Wellesley
is at hand. I have no expectation of any actual service against the
French, for their force in this part of the world is so superior to
ours (and will, I am convinced, continue so) that I have no doubt
of our quitting the country as soon as they turn their attention to
us.
But if unexpectedly they should, mistaking our force, or too
confident, advance towards us with an equal front, we shall drub
them well.
When I come to you again, which I guess will be before winter, I
shall stay a long, long time. I have been obliged to lay out an
immense sum on horses, which are immoderately dear.
I have managed so, however, as that I shall not lose much, in case
of being obliged to leave them behind. Ask Louisa if she would like
the prettiest little mulette that ever was?
You must not expect long letters, for I am very busy. And when
one’s mind is called aside by fifty things at once, one cannot
write a gossipy letter.
I have sent B. twenty pages about Spain, and he will send it to
you, if you desire. It will complete my journal.
I wrote to General Stewart as soon as I got here, and have a very
kind communicative letter from him in return. He is at no great
distance, and I think we may meet ere long.
General Sherbrooke, too, I have seen, who appears remarkably well.