Letter No. X
_To his Parents, from Lisbon, dated 11th January 1811_
Slow recovery from wound—Is joined by Colonel Beckwith, also
wounded—Prospects of the coming campaign—Colonel Sibthorp's
kindness—Admirable condition of British troops, and confidence in Lord
Wellington in spite of "those fellows who are so ready to abuse him."
_Journal—20th January-25th March 1811_
Desertion of German troops—Recovers from wound and leaves for the
front with Colonel Beckwith—German Hussars capture French cavalry
advanced posts—The French retire through Santarem—The Light Division
pursues—Shocking condition of Santarem and its inhabitants, due
to French excesses—The Horse Artillery and Royal Dragoons take up
the pursuit—Rear-guard actions—French Horse Grenadiers charged by
1st German Hussars—Advanced guard fight at Pombal—French driven
off—Arrival of five British Divisions—Combat of Redinha—Dispositions
of the French—The French flanks attacked by the Rifles—Defeat of the
French—Narrow escape of Simmons and Lieutenant Kincaid—Action of Cazal
Nova—Major John Stewart (in command of wing) killed, also Lieutenant
Strode mortally wounded—Miserable state of the town—Brutality of
French soldiers—The French retire during the night—French stragglers
saved from being massacred by the inhabitants by the British
troops—Combat at Foz de Aronce—Marshal Ney's mistake—Lord Wellington
takes advantage of it and orders Colonel Beckwith to "fall in" and
attack at once—The Light Division attack—Kincaid again has a narrow
shave—Stout resistance by the French; hundreds driven into the river
and drowned—Capture of their camp—The Rifle Men eat the Frenchmen's
dinners—French hamstring all their baggage animals—Skirmish at Ponte
de Murcella—Complimentary order by Lord Wellington on the conduct
of the Light Division during the ten days' fighting, 8th March to
18th—Vigorous pursuit by cavalry and Horse Artillery.
Letter No. XI
_To his Parents, from Mello, dated 26th March 1811_
Brother John in trouble—Reported as having been taken prisoner by the
French, who captured the merchant ship he was serving on—Recounts
visit to brother Maud across the Tagus—Describes the pursuit of
Massena and horrible brutalities committed by the French troops on the
Portuguese inhabitants—Detailed description of the fighting—News of
the battle of Barrosa and heavy losses of the Rifles (two companies
2nd Battalion, and four companies of 3rd Battalion engaged).
Letter No. X
Lisbon, _16th January 1811_.
My dear Parents—I embrace this opportunity of writing you by a friend
of mine who is compelled to come to England for the recovery of his
health, being rendered incapable of further service for some time,
having two severe wounds.
I find the rest and comforts I have been able to procure here have
brought me round much sooner than I had any idea of. Shelter from
the inclemency of the weather and a warm bed have done wonders. I
am now as anxious as ever to return to my regiment and share in its
glorious achievements. I am sorry to observe my leg is very little
better. I shall limp for life. Every change of weather affects me most
materially. I hope time will in some measure eradicate these symptoms,
though I am too well acquainted with the injury my thigh has sustained
ever to expect recovery.
The Colonel of my regiment has been obliged to come to Lisbon for
the benefit of his health. He has nearly recovered. I have at all
times experienced the greatest friendship from him. I dine often
with him. He had a great wish for me to live with him, thinking he
might soon recover, but not being able to procure a billet for us
both immediately, he would not inconvenience me by taking me from a
good one. In the meantime he recovered. I have always been fortunate
in gaining the esteem of my superior officers, and I am confident my
Colonel will as soon as possible do something for me. I have at this
time an idea of soon procuring a higher place.
I meant to purchase numbers of articles while in Lisbon. I must curtail
my inclinations, having been at great expense since I arrived here.
Everything has altered much in price since I was in this place before.
However, I cannot rest longer without giving my dear Ann some token of
my affection for her. These baubles will occasionally serve to remind
her that her brother George, though far away, still loves and adores
her. I wonder much at not hearing from you. I hope you do not conceive
I am careless of your affairs. I think you know me better than to
suspect it. I have not had a letter since September last. The French
are bringing up all the men they can muster, and concentrating them
in different Divisions near us. The weather has been so intolerably
wet and bad that it would be impossible for the two hostile armies
to commence the work of death and destruction at this time. We are
in hopes the sun will begin to shine upon us and dry the earth
sufficiently to enable us soon to commence. Our men are in the highest
spirits imaginable, and the Portuguese also are determined to fight
to the last. We shall soon have noble work. The French are a set of
impudent rascals. I certainly expected to find them stand much better
than in the two or three instances where I have been, with others of
my regiment, opposed to them. They are certainly brave men, but do not
like close quarters. When charged by Britons they run off.
When anything particular transpires I will write you. I have at present
several articles, but cannot find any conveyance for them. I shall
leave them at Lisbon. My brother Maud has the history of everything
belonging to me. He sent me a letter the other day requesting I would
accept forty or fifty dollars, as I must be in want of money. I thanked
him, but desired him to take care of it until he arrived in England,
where it would be of use. He laughed at my delicacy. He is an impudent
fellow, I assure you. I also told him it astonished me exceedingly to
find he could keep any money; I wondered it did not become a burden to
him. He wanted one day to wager with me on that head, but on showing
him twenty-five guineas besides dollars, he passed it off and abused me
for covetousness. I expected a letter from him, and would have enclosed
it, but he is too idle to write, as I generally contrive to give him
all my news. I received a very kind letter from Colonel Sibthorp this
morning. By some accident it has been detained in England ever since I
was at Lisbon before. He says he fully expected me home, and had fitted
up a quarter for me in his house. He was extremely happy when he heard
through the Adjutant of the Lincoln, with whom I correspond, that my
health was again re-established; and in some measure to palliate the
disappointment he experienced in not seeing me, he sent me £25 for
my present use. He concludes his letter with again observing that if
I should be obliged to come home from wounds or illness or any other
cause, his house will always be open to me. I assure you this letter
gives me great pleasure. I know well it is in Colonel Sibthorp's power
to befriend me in my profession.
I send Ann a gold chain; it is, I am informed, a curiosity in England
and is the purest gold that can be formed, also a gold cross set with
topaz, a pair of earrings; the same I could not procure smaller, or
should have liked them better. I send my mother a ring set also in
topaz, and a silver snuff-box. I hope the whole will arrive safe. I
send them at a venture, and durst not risk more money. I have often
laughed at the cause of my buying the box at Coimbra. It was when I
had experienced a severe march after being wounded, and was feverish
and continually talking of my dear mother and annoying every one near
me. I would not be satisfied until my servant had procured some boxes
from a jeweller. The one I send was my choice. I wrote a long letter
settling my little affairs, stuffed it into the box, and then felt very
happy. The next day my wound was more favourable. You know the rest. I
think I see my mother opening the box and recounting this little tale.
When the officer lands he will give the parcel to the clerk at some
mail coach office (by my orders). Pay the booking. I think there is no
chance of its miscarrying. You may on receipt of this, occasionally
send to the post office to inquire for a small parcel directed as
usual, Osborne Street, Kingston-upon-Hull. The whole cost me £7 or £8.
I have more curiosities, but durst not risk them all at once.
I hope two months will nearly enable us to decide the fate of Portugal.
It is my continued prayer for a general action. That day will be
tremendous. I have no fear as to the result. The troops are seasoned,
weather-beaten veterans, commanded by the best General in the British
service. I wish some of those fellows who are so ready to abuse him
were for a night posted within 200 yards of the enemy; they would not
talk so nonsensically. It is easy for them to do so fighting battles
over a good fireside at home with a pot of old October before them.
My love to you all, particularly my uncle and aunt. I remain the same,
still and for ever, your affectionate son,
G. Simmons, Lt., 95th Regmt.
I hope Joseph attends to my injunctions. It will in the end be himself
that must reap the benefit. "Education is fortune sufficient to a man
who will make good use of it."
_Journal—20th January-25th March 1811_
[Sidenote: Lisbon.]
Considerable reinforcements have joined the French army, several of the
Brunswickers have deserted to the enemy, and some were detected in the
act of going over. Three of them were shot and the corps sent to the
rear. Deserters, both officers and men, very frequently came over from
the French army.
[Sidenote: 20th]
I found myself quite restored to health, and went to the Italian opera,
San Carlos. Also went on board the _Tonnant_, 80 guns, to see the
brother of Lieutenant Stokes, a friend of mine, who was exceedingly
kind, as well as the whole of the officers, and showed me the greatest
hospitality.
[Sidenote: 27th]
The remains of the Marquis Romana were brought on shore at Belem.
Minute guns were fired. The body was taken to the Church of San
Justine, where it was interred with much pomp and ceremony, the British
and Portuguese soldiers being all under arms, and police guards also.
[Sidenote: 1811 Feb. 3rd]
The shock of an earthquake at 11 o'clock P.M., which alarmed the
inhabitants.
Having enjoyed myself for some time now in Lisbon, and being quite
restored to health, I became anxious of again associating with my
brother soldiers.
[Sidenote: 4th]
Took my departure, in company with my worthy friend, Colonel Beckwith.
He had been some time in Lisbon with intermittent fever, but was now
restored to health. Halted at the house of Major M'Neal, a friend of
the Colonel's, at Alhandra, where we were very hospitably treated. It
being a rainy morning, and the Major pressing us to stay another day,
we did so.
[Sidenote: 6th]
Rode to Valle and joined Captain Beckwith's company, which was in the
same house and stables I left it in five weeks before, although it had
changed its captain.
[Sidenote: 8th]
Colonel Drummond took command of the 2nd Brigade of the Light Division
_vice_ Winch deceased.
[Sidenote: 9th]
Cornet Streunitz, of the German Hussars, surprised an advanced post
of the enemy near Rio Mayor, consisting of an officer and thirty men.
Cavalry desertion from the enemy very frequent, and constant reports
brought in that they cannot remain much longer in their present
position, as the soldiery are suffering sad privations.
[Sidenote: 22nd]
Cornet Streunitz took another party of the enemy, one officer and
fifteen men, who had been placed in ambush to endeavour to surprise
our cavalry piquets. I got leave to visit my brother Maud, who was in
General Hill's Division across the Tagus. I passed it in a large boat
of a rough structure filled with men and horses, and very bunglingly
navigated; however, I was landed safely. I mounted my horse and rode
to Almeyrim, where his regiment was stationed (2nd Battalion 34th). I
found him well, and we fought over our battles together, over some bad
wine.
[Sidenote: 30th]
Returned to my corps, as the reports of the enemy's moving off gain
ground daily.
[Sidenote: 1811 March 4th]
Two deserters came over; they report that the enemy are burning
everything that they cannot remove, such as gun-carriages, carts, etc.
[Sidenote: 5th]
The cavalry have advanced a little way on our left, and the Divisions
in rear are closing up to us.
[Sidenote: 6th]
The _juiz de fore_ of Santarem sent a peasant to give information that
the enemy had retired through the place at two o'clock this morning and
were in full retreat. The Light Division followed the enemy at daybreak
and entered Santarem, where we remained about an hour. How different
this town now appeared; when I last was in it all was gaiety and
happiness, and the shops abounding with every luxury, and a smile upon
every one's face; but now the houses are torn and dilapidated, and the
few miserable inhabitants, moving skeletons; the streets strewn with
every description of household furniture, half-burnt and destroyed,
and many streets quite impassable with filth and rubbish, with an
occasional man, mule, or donkey rotting and corrupting and filling the
air with pestilential vapours.
My heart ached as I passed through it. We marched to Pernes. The enemy
had blown up the bridge over the river Pernes, which was repaired
by Captain Todd, Royal Staff Corps. The poor inhabitants had been
persuaded to remain by Marshal Junot, under fair promises, but they
ill performed these assertions. The houses were nearly all unroofed,
and the people in a starving condition. Two young ladies had been
brutally violated in a house that I entered, and were unable to rise
from a mattress of straw. On the line of march, comparing notes with
other officers, I found that they all had some mournful story to relate
of the savage French Vandals which had come under their immediate
observation.
[Sidenote: 7th]
Followed the enemy's rear-guard to Torres Novas, and halted near La
Marrosa. The Horse Artillery and Royal Dragoons came up with the French
rear-guard and harassed it. We passed several of the enemy's killed and
wounded men upon the road as we advanced. The unfortunate inhabitants
that have remained in their villages have the appearance of people who
have been kicked out of their graves and reanimated, and the sight of
them rouses the fiercest passions within us, and will make us, when
we come up with the enemy, take ample vengeance upon them for their
unheard-of and disgusting cruelties to this unfortunate nation. O happy
England! surrounded by an element over which thy sons in their wooden
walls triumphantly sway, and on thy happy shores the arms of that
tyrant who has deluged Europe in blood can have no influence. May it
ever be so is my earnest prayer!
[Sidenote: 8th]
Light Division marched at daybreak, and came up with sixty sick
Frenchmen upon donkeys in a wretched plight from disease and fever. We
followed the rear-guard to Venda dos Carvalhos. The enemy moved off
when we came in sight. The cavalry and Horse Artillery pressed them so
hard that the enemy blew up four tumbrils and destroyed a quantity of
gun tackling.
[Sidenote: 9th]
Advanced early this morning, and after marching five hours, came up
with the enemy's rear-guard at the junction of the road from Leyria
and Lisbon to Coimbra. A large body of cavalry showed itself, and
infantry in force was halted in rear. An advanced squadron of the
11th French Horse Grenadiers were charged by the 1st German Hussars
in pretty style, and twelve of them taken. The French had taken two
Hussars two days before, and it was believed had coolly sabred them.
The Germans were so incensed at the report that they were going to put
some of these men to death, but were luckily prevented and persuaded
to desist. One of the enemy was a very handsome man and an Italian. He
had a narrow escape, as he was upon his knees and the sword uplifted
to slaughter him when Colonel Gilmore begged him off. About forty
straggling soldiers fell into our hands on this day's advance, and the
road was often covered with dead Frenchmen, gun-carriages, waggons, and
pieces of different military equipment.
[Sidenote: 10th]
Returned half a league and bivouacked in a pine wood. Sir William
Erskine took command of the Light Division. The enemy appeared in great
force for the purpose of checking our advance, in order that their
heavy guns, baggage, etc., might gain some advantage by moving rapidly
away. Towards evening our forces were considerably augmented by the
arrival of General Pack's Brigade and a Brigade of the 1st Division. In
short, our army was moving up as quick as the nature of circumstances
would admit of it.
Fight of Pombal
[Sidenote: 11th]
The enemy moved off before day, and our cavalry and Horse Artillery
set out in pursuit of it. They were obliged to halt a little way from
Pombal, and the Light Division were sent forward to dislodge the
enemy's Light Infantry and Voltigeurs from the enclosures. The castle,
an old ruin situated upon an eminence, was very spiritedly attacked by
the 95th Rifles and the 3rd Caçadores. Although the enemy disputed the
ground obstinately, which, from the nature of it, was very defensible,
yet they were driven sharply through Pombal. Some officers' baggage was
captured.
The enemy remained on strong ground at a little distance from us. The
1st, 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th Divisions arrived near us in the course of
the evening. The town of Pombal is frightfully dilapidated, and the
inhabitants as miserable as I have before represented them in other
places.
Combat of Redinha
[Sidenote: 12th]
The enemy took up a position to receive our attack in front of Redinha,
his right resting on the river Soure, protected in front by heights
covered with wood, and his left beyond Redinha upon the river. The
front part of his line was much intersected with deep ravines. In the
centre was a beautiful plain filled with infantry, formed in good order
but a motley-looking set of fellows in greatcoats and large caps,
a body of cavalry supporting, and other bodies moving according to
circumstances. The wooded heights were attacked by a wing of the 1st
Battalion (Rifles), commanded by Major Stewart, who carried them in
gallant style. The other wing attacked the left, the Light Division
acting in unison with these attacks, our columns moving rapidly into
the plain, forming line and moving on, and also the cavalry. It was
a sunshiny morning, and the red coats and pipe-clayed belts and
glittering of men's arms in the sun looked beautiful. I felt a pleasure
which none but a soldier so placed can feel. After a severe struggle
we drove the enemy from all his strongholds and down a steep hill
to the bridge. We pushed the fugitives so hard that the bridge was
completely blocked up, numbers fell over its battlements, and others
were bayoneted; in fact, we entered pell-mell with them. The town was
set on fire in many parts by the enemy previous to our entering it, so
that numbers of them, to avoid being bayoneted, rushed into the burning
houses in their flight. Lieutenant Kincaid[17] passed with me through a
gap in a hedge. We jumped from it at the same moment that a Portuguese
Grenadier, who was following, received a cannon shot through his body
and came tumbling after us. Very likely during the day a person might
have a thousand much more narrow escapes of being made acquainted with
the grand secret, but seeing the mangled body of a brave fellow so
shockingly mutilated in an instant, stamps such impressions upon one's
mind in a manner that time can never efface. A man named Muckston laid
hold of a French officer in the river and brought him out. He took his
medal, and in the evening brought it to me. I took it, but should have
felt happy to have returned it to the Frenchman.
The enemy cannonaded our columns crossing the bridge and occasionally
gave the skirmishers some discharges of grape. Notwithstanding, it did
not deter us from following them and driving them some distance, when
we were recalled and formed up. The British army bivouacked for the
night. Lieutenants Chapman and Robert Beckwith wounded.
[Sidenote: 13th]
The Light Division advanced at daylight and found the enemy strongly
posted in front of Condexa. The 3rd Division took a detour by a
mountain road and turned the enemy's left, which obliged _Johnny_
to move off; we followed through the town close to them; the houses
being generally unroofed and others that had been quarters for French
officers, were deliberately set on fire.
In one instance I ordered some soldiers to remove several chairs and
some straw under a staircase which was then on fire. By this timely
removal, the house was saved, and most likely many others.
Action of Cazal Nova
[Sidenote: 14th]
As soon as the fog cleared away, we found the enemy very strongly
posted, the ground for miles in their rear being one continued
series of good positions. The heights and village of Cazal Nova
were spiritedly attacked by Major Stewart with the left wing 95th
Rifles, and the other wing soon followed. Then, soon after, the whole
Light Division was engaged skirmishing, which continued from hill
to hill, and a combined movement (on the enemy's flank) by the 3rd
Division assisted us very materially in making the enemy quit the
many strongholds which, owing to the nature of the ground, gave him
repeatedly the advantage over us. About three in the afternoon a
regiment formed up and hid itself. Our advanced skirmishers, going over
the slope of a hill, came within a few yards of this regiment, when
the men fired a volley into our faces. It was quite ridiculous; the
balls went whizzing over our heads, and they scampered off. Our Horse
Artillery generally gave the enemy a few rounds of shrapnel to amuse
them before we gave over our day's work. These battalions of the enemy,
by our rapid movements, were forced upon the main body at Miranda do
Corvo, on the Deuca, and had sustained considerable loss. From the hard
fighting of this day many brave fellows had fallen. Major Stewart, a
fine gallant little fellow who commanded the attack so spiritedly,
was wounded. Lieutenant Strode, in the company with myself, was also
wounded.[18] I was placed on piquet at the entrance of the town of
Lous̃a, and a little after dark patrolled into it. Houses in every
direction were on fire, and a few wretched inhabitants standing about
in the streets with despair and horror marked in their faces. Kincaid
and I went into a house where an old man was seated; he had been lame
in both legs for many years. A French soldier, on leaving the house,
had given him two deep sabre wounds on the head and another on the arm.
This place was a true picture of everything that was wretched.
[Sidenote: 15th]
I was sent on this morning with a party of the piquet. Found near the
roadside, quantities of ammunition that had been buried by the French,
also a French officer and numbers of men dead; a deserter from the
Brunswickers I took prisoner. The enemy had retired in the night so as
to have a little start of us, as the battalions engaged yesterday had
been too severely handled. At every step this morning we found sick
and dead Frenchmen, gun-carriages, waggons, baggage; horses, mules,
and donkeys abandoned by their masters, not being able to carry their
loads farther, some from frightful sore backs, others from lameness and
starvation. We passed through Miranda do Corvo in pursuit of the enemy.
The town was almost filled with sick, wounded, and dying men, abandoned
to their fate, and dead. The rascally French had even plundered this
place and committed every sort of wanton atrocity upon the inhabitants,
and then left many of their helpless countrymen for the infuriated
inhabitants to wreak their vengeance upon. Luckily for these poor
wretches, we followed the French so rapidly that they fell into our
hands, and were put in charge of British soldiers, or they would have
been butchered indiscriminately.
Combat of Foz de Aronce
After marching a league from the latter town, we found the enemy's
rear-guard had taken up a position at Foz de Aronce, with their back
to the river Ceira, and the bridge behind them blown up. The remainder
of their army was in position on the other side, having passed by
fording, but in consequence of heavy rains, the river became so swollen
that it was in a few hours impassable. Our gallant chief observed with
his penetrating eye the egregious mistake that the officer, Marshal
Ney, who commanded the French rear-guard, had made. We were all hungry
and tired. I was frying some beef and anxiously watching the savoury
morsel, when an order was given by Lord Wellington himself to Colonel
Beckwith: "Fall in your battalion and attack the enemy; drive in
their skirmishers, and I will turn their flank with the 3rd and 1st
Divisions." The whole Light Division were smartly engaged. The enemy
opposed to the company (Captain Beckwith's) I was with, were behind a
low wall. The approach was through a pine wood, and the branches were
rattling about our ears from the enemy's bullets. Lieutenant Kincaid
got shot through his cap, which grazed the top of his head. He fell as
if a sledge hammer had hit him. However, he came to himself and soon
rallied again. Lieutenant M'Cullock was shot through the shoulder. The
attack commenced about five in the afternoon and lasted till after
dark, the rain falling abundantly during part of the time. The French
fought very hard, and, some finding resistance to be in vain, threw
themselves upon our generosity, but the greater part rushed into the
river, which was tumbling along in its course most furiously, and
there soon found a watery grave. The enemy so little dreamt of being
disturbed this night that their cooking utensils were left upon their
fires for strangers to enjoy their contents. Such are the chances of
war! I was quite exhausted and tired, and was with about fifteen of
the company in the same state, when we made a great prize. One of the
men found a dozen pots upon a fire, the embers of which were low and
caused the place to escape notice. Here we adjourned, and soon made
the fire burn brightly. We found the different messes most savoury
ones, and complimented the French for their knowledge of making savoury
dishes, and many jokes were passed upon them. The men looked about
and found several knapsacks; they emptied them at the fireside to see
their contents and added to their own kits, shoes and shirts of better
quality than their own. In every packet I observed twenty biscuits
nicely rolled up or deposited in a bag; they were to last each man
so many days, and he must, unless he got anything else, be his own
commissary. We had been very ill-off for some days for bread, so that
some of these proved a great luxury.
[Sidenote: 16th]
At two o'clock this morning the enemy had the arches of the bridge more
effectually blown up. The weather began to clear at daylight. We saw
numbers of the enemy dead in the river, and lying about near the bushes
as the water had left them. It was judged about 700 or 800 had been
drowned, and the 39th Regiment lost their Eagles in the water. A great
quantity of baggage must have been destroyed or thrown into the water,
as there were a great many mules and donkeys close to the river-side,
hamstrung in the hind leg. These poor animals looked so wretched
that one could not help feeling for them, and disgusted us with the
barbarous cruelty of the French. To have killed and put them out of
their misery at once would have been far better. We remained in bivouac.
[Sidenote: 17th]
The Light Division forded the river, a little more than knee-deep
now, which the day before yesterday had caused so many Frenchmen to
wind up all worldly accounts. Bivouacked for the night in a pine
wood after a short march, as, owing to our rapid advance, it became
difficult to get up a sufficient supply of rations for the army from
Lisbon. Some deserters say the enemy has buried many pieces of cannon.
Gun-carriages, ammunition-waggons, and every material of war is
abandoned by the enemy, which makes us regret that provisions should
be the cause of delay in not pursuing more effectually the great
advantages we have already gained. A deserter informed us that after
dark the other night the enemy sent several battalions down to the
river to assist, if possible, the rear-guard in passing the river, but
that they got into confusion and fired upon each other.
[Sidenote: 18th]
Advanced early this morning to the river Alva, found the bridge blown
up, and the enemy in position on very strong ground at Ponte de
Murcella with some guns in position commanding the approach to the
river. We formed opposite the enemy and had a fine view of a large
body of them. Some nine-pounders were soon got up, and commenced
pounding their columns. I never saw _Johnny_ go off in such confusion.
The cavalry followed for some distance. The Light Division went into
bivouac in the pine woods for the night.
An extract from the General Orders of the Day shows the high estimation
in which our gallant Commander holds the three British regiments of the
Light Division for their services in the field for the last ten days.
Adjt.-General's Office, Lous̃a,
_16th March 1811_.
"The Commander of the Forces returns his thanks to the general and
staff officers, officers, and troops for their excellent conduct in
the operations of the last ten days against the enemy, and he requests
the commanding officers of the 43rd, 52nd, and first battalion 95th
(Rifles) to name a sergeant of each regiment to be recommended for
promotion to an ensigncy as a testimony of the particular approbation
the Commander of the Forces entertains for the conduct of these
regiments.
"E. Pakenham, _Deputy Adjt.-General_."
[Sidenote: 19th]
A wooden bridge having been thrown across the river during last night,
we passed over this morning and advanced through Sobreira. A league
farther we bivouacked in a wood of pines. The cavalry followed the
enemy's rear-guard, and in crossing a plain took 800 prisoners. One was
a Portuguese and aide-de-camp to Loison. He had a Spanish girl in a
Hussar uniform as his companion. This fellow, on his arrival in Lisbon,
will be put to death as a traitor to his country if he has not better
luck than he deserves.
[Sidenote: 20th]
Light Division moved through Galizes and went into bivouac in a fir
grove near Vendas Novas. The French rear-guard was vigorously pursued
by the cavalry and Horse Artillery, who took numbers of prisoners and
stragglers. We found numbers of tumbrils, carts, waggons, and other
articles abandoned by the French. Occasionally we found Portuguese
peasants that had been most wantonly shot by the enemy.
[Sidenote: 21st]
The Light Division marched on to the fir groves above Maceira and
bivouacked. Two hundred more of the enemy taken by the cavalry.
[Sidenote: 22nd]
Went into houses at Moimenta da Serva in consequence of the weather
being very bad. Several of the poor people gave us a melancholy
account of the cruelties they had suffered from the French; and in
every village on the line of their march they had murdered many of the
inhabitants in a most savage manner. A priest in the above village
dead, and his body mutilated.
[Sidenote: 23rd]
Marched in front of Sampayo and bivouacked in a wood.
[Sidenote: 24th]
Lodged in the town of Mello.
[Sidenote: 25th]
Bivouacked in a wood. Supposed to be waiting for supplies.
Letter No. XI
Mello (near Celorico), Portugal,
_26th March 1811_.
My dear Parents—I received the melancholy account of poor John
with sorrow.[19] It is a great misfortune, and under the present
circumstances it is utterly impossible to give him the least support.
I hope by this time you have received more authentic information as to
his situation. It is entirely out of my power to gain any knowledge
of him or be of the slightest use, distant as I am from England.
Your plan will be to make inquiry through the Transport Board, but
it is so entirely out of my way, I cannot advise you how to act with
certainty. In a mercantile place like Hull you will find numbers very
well acquainted with the business. If it would be possible to remit
him money occasionally, it would be the best way of serving him. It
would be cruel of me to say anything further regarding my displeasure
when I heard of him binding himself in so low a capacity; it is done,
and the result has proved truly unfortunate. We cannot foresee evils,
but we should endeavour to prevent them. If he had been a soldier, or
a sailor in a King's ship, he would, though a prisoner, have had some
little liberty, but in his situation he will not be noticed, but mix
with men of all descriptions. I endeavour to look upon his unfortunate
situation in the best manner possible. I flatter myself an exchange of
prisoners may take place before long. I hope his constitution is good.
He may possibly make his escape, though when once safe in France, it
is unlikely. I sometimes fancy he may get away after recovering from
the wounds he received, being near the coast. If he is enterprising,
I think he may have several chances; but, poor fellow, his youth may
make him careless. I wish I had the chance of attacking the escort that
guards him on the road. I think you would then soon have a favourable
account of him. Give me all the information you can about him in your
next.
I joined my regiment at Valle on the 22nd of February, the place I
left them at, my health quite restored and my thigh much better. I
heard of Maud's regiment being on the other side of the Tagus in good
quarters; it induced me to go. He was delighted to see me. He regretted
much the account of poor John. I dined with him, and stayed until late
the day following. Before I left his quarters he gave me an excellent
dinner and plenty of good wine. I was much pleased with his manner of
living, having a good stock of useful and necessary things, a canteen
with knives, forks, plates, etc.—in short, everything useful, with a
donkey to carry them. He is very steady, and has saved money. I paid
him some very high compliments on his conduct. He is taller than
I, and I assure you a very handsome, stout fellow. I told him about
the little trinkets I had sent Ann from Lisbon, which, by the bye, I
hope have arrived safe; acquaint me regarding them in your next. He
means to make Ann some presents when he returns. The officers of his
regiment behaved very politely, and invited me to spend some days,
but that was impossible. My brother came a little way with me, and
with regret we parted. We continued at Valle within pistol-shot of
the enemy's sentries until 6th March. At daybreak we found the enemy
had left this strong position and withdrawn his piquets. Our Division
directly followed. The French went off in the night, consisting of
the rear-guard of 12,000 men. They had been for some days taking sick
and baggage to the rear and heavy cannon also. We passed through the
fine town of Santarem, which was dreadfully sacked. I was in the town
when full of people and wealth; this sight hurt my feelings much. A
few half-starved miserable wretches came to cheer us, nearly dead with
hunger. I looked for the house I was once billeted upon, but, alas!
only the bare walls remained. The unfortunate owner was a fine liberal
old man, and treated me very kindly. I made some inquiries, but could
hear nothing. We halted for the night in a village.
At daybreak we followed the French, and passed through several towns on
fire. We did not come up with them. This night was on outlying piquet.
A little cottage by the roadside struck my fancy. I took up my abode in
order to have my pound of meat cooked and to be sheltered, being rainy.
The woman of the house welcomed me in and offered me her chair. She had
four children lying near her literally starving. The French had robbed
her of everything worth taking. Some of the soldiers cut her with their
swords for endeavouring to stop them from taking away her daughter, and
one villain had the meanness to return to the house and tell her, "Your
children are starving; if you will give two dollars for this loaf, you
shall have it." She went where the last of her money was secreted; he
watched her, and took the money, abused her, and walked off. The poor
creature and her children appeared so wretched; she was continually
praying the English would revenge her wrongs. I did what I could to
console her, and gave them some of my little stock of provisions,
which, circumstanced as we are, we must, from real necessity, be very
careful of, as the towns are all left by the inhabitants.
It is beyond everything horrid the way these European savages have
treated the unfortunate Portuguese. Almost every man they get hold of
they murder. The women they use too brutally for me to describe. They
even cut the throats of infants. The towns are mostly on fire—in short,
they are guilty of every species of cruelty. I have seen such sights
as have made me shudder with horror, and which I really could not have
believed unless an eye-witness of them. It is needless for me to enter
into particulars, as I could fill a volume with their barbarities. We
continued marching, daily taking French sick and stragglers. If they
fell by any chance into the hands of the Portuguese, they either dashed
their brains out or stabbed them without ceremony. From the Portuguese
they certainly deserve no quarter, for they give none.
On the 9th, one company of us had some little skirmishing. The Hussars
and the 16th Light Dragoons, amounting to two troops, charged double
the number of French; killed and wounded fifteen and took ten horses.
On the 11th we followed the enemy; two companies of ours drove them
from the woods; the enemy halted at Pombal, and occupied the heights
and castle. After some sharp fighting the enemy were driven from their
position, on the 3rd Caçadores (pronounced _Cassadores_) coming up. One
officer wounded and several men.
On the 12th we passed through several towns on fire; about eleven
o'clock A.M. we came up with the French, and found them posted upon
some heights in great force, both cavalry and infantry. On their right
and left were woods filled with sharp-shooters. Our columns moved
up and our regiment, the 43rd, 52nd, and Portuguese Light Infantry,
amounting to 5000, extended to the distance of three miles. The order
was given, and we filled the woods. The French threw numbers of shot
and shells, which only killed a few men. The woods were of fir-trees
and upon the sides of steep hills; as soon as we gained the top, the
French gave us a volley. It was of no consequence; our Boys would not
be stopped. The French, finding they could not stop us, retired in the
greatest confusion through the town of Redinha, which was on fire.
We kept at their heels, and the town was filled with our men in a
moment. We plied the enemy so hard that numbers threw away their arms,
and upwards of fifty fell over the bridge and were drowned. A party
of my men were blazing away at the rascals; one espied an officer
endeavouring to get through the water; he jumped in and brought him
out by the neck. He gave the soldier thirty-six doubloons and a medal
dedicated to the Legion of Honour. The soldier gave me the medal. I
should have returned it to the officer, but having something of a more
serious nature to mind, I afterwards had not an opportunity. Halted for
the night in a wood.
No fighting of consequence on the 13th.
On the 14th we drove in the enemy's piquets at daylight. Our whole
Division was engaged. Lieutenant Strode of the same company was badly
wounded in the thigh, and Major Stewart mortally wounded. We continued
fighting until three o'clock P.M. Strode when he fell called to me to
take his rifle, exclaiming, "This, Simmons, may be of service." I had
no time to stand on ceremony, but moved on. The French were driven back
on all sides, and very glad to give over fighting.
A very good town near where we halted was on fire, and numbers of the
inhabitants murdered.
At daybreak on the 15th found the enemy were gone. We immediately
followed, and came up with them at half-past four o'clock P.M.
occupying a very strong position and in great force. We began to build
huts about a mile from them and cook our breakfast, dinner, and supper
all at once; soldiers eat when they can. However, we were disappointed,
an order coming from Lord Wellington for an immediate attack. Every
man to his post, and in ten minutes exposed to a heavy fire of shot,
shells, and musketry. In passing the plain to get at the enemy in the
wood, I was for the moment startled; a musket ball struck my rifle
(Strode's), and shattered the butt to pieces, which luckily saved my
right thigh. I laughed and pushed on.
We here had some very hard fighting, having twelve French battalions
opposed to us. Our men and the Portuguese went in skirmishing order up
to their line. The French fired volleys. Their officers behaved very
gallantly. Just at dark the enemy were beaten back in all directions,
and as caution is necessary, we gave up the pursuit. This fight took
place near, and in, the village of Foz de Aronce. Above 500 of the
enemy were driven into the river and drowned, numbers killed and
wounded, nearly 300 mules and asses killed for fear of falling into our
hands. We quartered ourselves in the French camp; they left us good
fires. I roasted some pork which the French left, and had plenty of
biscuit, took a glass of grog and a pipe, and talked over the business
of the day with my brother-officers. Very happy to find I had a whole
skin, which was more than I expected; rolled myself in my cloak, lay by
the fire, and slept as well as I could wish.
In the whole of these affairs we have had one major killed, a very fine
gallant soldier, and six lieutenants wounded; I cannot say how many
men. The _Gazette_ will give a more circumstantial account. The 43rd
and 52nd have also suffered severely. Some light companies of other
regiments were with us. The Portuguese deserve every praise; they fight
like lions. We have paid off the French for old scores, and also taught
them what they must expect to meet with if ever they dare to invade our
happy country. As for my gallant countrymen, I cannot say too much
for them; proud I am indeed to be worthy the name of a Briton. I have
confidence and pleasure in feeling I have done my duty under all the
privations I have laboured under, and at a time when hardly recovered
from a very bad illness. I have great reason to thank the Almighty for
His merciful goodness to me, and for my preservation hitherto. I hope
it is for a good purpose. I must own it would grieve me to leave you
under your present circumstances. I yet flatter myself some day or
other I shall have it in my power to show some mark of my affection to
the best of parents; if not: God's will be done. My last words will be
prayers for the welfare of those dearer to me than life.
I have seen a letter from Cadiz. I find the rascally Spaniards have
deceived General Graham, but the English _alone_ gave the French a
terrible beating. Our regiment had one lieutenant-colonel wounded,
one captain killed, and four lieutenants wounded. Our regiment gets
terribly cut up. We think nothing of it. Every man glories in doing his
duty, and those that survive must be promoted.
The French said they would drive us into the sea, but Lord Wellington,
the finest General in the British service, has, from his penetration,
starved and nearly driven them back out of Portugal. We are at
Celorico, only six leagues from the frontiers of Spain, and in a few
days I shall once more see Almeida. I hope not to be so unlucky as
before. If we can bring the French to a general action, you will have a
fine account of the result. I hope it will be the case in a few days.
Our men have got quantities of money and plunder from the French. In
the whole business we have taken 1500 prisoners. I cannot ascertain
how many were drowned in the two rivers, but the last business was a
glorious one for us. The river appeared covered with bodies of fine
handsome fellows. We march in the morning, but the enemy seem to wish
to be off and have no more to do with us.—I am, your affectionate son,
Geo. Simmons, Lt., 95th Regmt.
Joseph, I hope, is at school; Charles and Betsy also. My love to my
dear Ann. She must endeavour to spell better. Always let me see some of
her writing. Joseph may as well likewise give me a specimen.
When I am richer I shall send some things of more value to Ann. The
snuff-box, I hope, will please my dear mother. Be particular in stating
when you write, which must be on receipt of this, whether the trinkets
have safely arrived. I have no doubts upon the subject, as the officer
I entrusted them to is a particular friend. You must excuse omissions
in this letter, as I had only a little time to give you this account,
and that after a hard day's march, when I ought to have been sleeping
instead of writing.