Lisbon, Cintra, Mafra, etc., 1811, 1812--Second trip to the
Army--Taking of Badajoz.
I spent the remainder of the year in the Tagus, making, when duty
permitted, excursions up that river to some of the small islands, near
Alhandra, where we used to find snipe, quail, and other wild fowl.
Sometimes we landed on the south side of the Tagus, to shoot red-legged
partridges and woodcocks, which we occasionally met with near the
Prince’s Quinta. But the most delightful place for snipe and wild fowl
was Loares, on the road towards Torres Vedras: the swamps being there
alive with various kinds of them, and amongst others, bittern, kites,
hawks, and I have seen, now and then, an osprey.
In March, 1812, I made a very pleasant excursion to Cintra, Mafra, and
Colares, with the present Lord By----, and some other officers of the
_Barfleur_. On our road, we went to see the palace of Calous, where, in
some of the rooms are, very well painted, the whole of the adventures
of Don Quixote.
Cintra, fifteen miles distant from Lisbon, is situated on the
north-east side of the rock. It is certainly one of the most romantic
places I have seen, and commands an extensive and beautiful view of
the country and of the sea. The buildings most worthy of observation
are: first, the Penia convent, rising from the rock of Lisbon; it is
about three hundred and twenty years’ old, and is tenanted by three
monks. From hence is a fine prospect, comprising Cape Espichel,
Peniche, and the Burling islands. Another convent, called the Cork,
from its being lined with that wood, built also on the rock, and having
fifteen monks for its inmates, next attracts attention. This was
founded about three hundred years ago. Beyond, on an extreme point of
the rock, are the ruins of a Moorish castle, mosque, prison, and baths:
the latter supposed by some to be of Roman origin. The Marquess of
Marialva’s palace, where the convention was signed, is very fine, and
pleasantly situated.
Rising amongst rocks, and embosomed in orange, lemon, and pomegranate
trees, Penia Verde must not pass unnoticed. Its original possessor, Don
Juan de Castro, who died A. D. 1723, and whose remains, at his request,
were interred in a particular spot in the garden, discovered much of
the interior of Brazil: besides being of great use to the Government
in several important matters. On his return to Lisbon he petitioned
for a pension, which being most ungratefully refused, he so willed his
property and possessions as to prevent them in any way benefiting his
country, which had turned a deaf ear to his claims for compensation
for the services he had rendered her. This fact our guide adduced
as a reason for the grounds being found in their wild and neglected
condition.
The king’s palace, an old gloomy edifice, did not much take my fancy.
What most struck me there was a shower-bath, lined with white marble,
or, perhaps, pantiles, and which, on turning a pipe, throws the water
in all directions. It not unfrequently happened that visitors were
taught a practical lesson of its powers. It used to be a joke to get
them to step into the bath room, the machinery was put in motion, and
they underwent a good drenching as the reward of their curiosity.
The prince’s palace of Romalyan I thought pretty, and its situation,
looking towards Lisbon and the sea, quite delightful. The Marquis of
Marialva has other gardens than those adjoining his palace, which we
went to see, on account of the figures they contain; amongst them
are shoemakers, and an old woman spinning, all as large as life; by
touching some wires they are set in motion and immediately begin their
work.
We one day rode to the village of Colares, prettily situated near the
sea, and famous for its wine, which is so excellent that I am surprised
it is not more frequently met with in England; it is something in
flavour between claret and burgundy.
In the garden of a Signor Tomazine, at the above place, is a mineral
spring, but I am ignorant of its qualities. Would not this afford
a capital speculation to an M.D. Let me advise one to analyse the
spring, rent it--write a pamphlet upon its good qualities--recommend
it strongly for the cure of all kinds of complaints, particularly
consumptions and pulmonary affections. The fine beautiful air of
Cintra, and its romantic scenery he could always call in to his aid as
a good and faithful ally in all extreme cases; and when he occasionally
failed, he might say the case was desperate, and the patient’s time
was come. With the assistance above mentioned, he would be sure to
effect some cures, and make his fortune; steam vessels would bring him
patients and friends to attend them, some of the latter would probably
in time fall sick, and, therefore, he might justly calculate upon
getting a few of them also on his books as patients. I hope, should any
medical gentleman take this hint, he will remember me gratefully in his
will, for depend upon it, the speculation will answer much better than
many of the railroads.
Before leaving Cintra, on our return to Lisbon, we made an excursion
to Mafra to see an eminent building, containing, besides a convent and
church, a palace for the king, and another for the queen. I believe
that, with the exception of the Escurial in Spain, this is the largest
pile of building in Europe. I was told that in one quadrangle alone,
the French, previous to the convention, had quartered 15,000 men. From
the roof is a fine view of the country for many miles. There is also a
topada, or park, of some extent, belonging to it. From the church rises
a dome, something like that of St. Paul’s in London. There are likewise
two steeples. The interior, which contains some good paintings, and
several pieces of sculpture in alto-relief, on scriptural subjects, is
well worth inspection. These were executed at Rome, and showed the
hand of a great master. There are also statues of all the saints, in
white marble. Its six organs are considered very fine, and according
to the padres, the Mafra ring of bells is the best in the world. This
palace, at the time we saw it, was the depôt for the formation of the
Portuguese army.
I have not dwelt much on Lisbon, a city so generally known, that to
notice its public buildings, aqueduct, etc., would be superfluous in a
narrative like the present. We had a few slight shocks of an earthquake
during the time I was there, which created a little alarm, and caused
all the church bells to be set ringing for the people to come to mass.
On the 16th of March I had permission to accompany my brother to his
regiment, which was then at Olivença, in Spain, covering the siege
of Badajoz. Our route to the army was the same as before, through
the Alemtejo to Elvas; we crossed the river Guadiana by the ford of
Xerumaha to Olivença, in Estramadura, where the regiment remained until
the 4th of April.
Marshal Soult having advanced towards Badajoz to try and raise the
siege, the cavalry, both heavy and light, were sent forward as far as
Villaloa, Almandralajo, and Villa Franca, to oppose him; some brigades
of infantry occupying Albuera on nearly the same spot where Lord
Beresford fought the battle.
I remained behind to see the siege, and pay a visit to my old friends
of the 7th Fusiliers, with a Captain Daniel Capel, of the 14th. On the
5th of April I went with them to look at the breaching batteries, and
to visit an old acquaintance, who had been wounded the day before by
a musket-ball through the side, while doing duty as an engineer in the
trenches. Poor fellow! he was afterwards killed on the Pyrenees by
lightning; he belonged to the 37th Regiment. I spent a very pleasant
day with the Fusiliers, but it was doomed alas! to be the last with
several of my gallant friends, and amongst others, poor Saint Pol, who
the next night was mortally wounded at the storming of the large breach.
On my return, late in the evening, to my quarters at Olivença, what
with the haze in my head, occasioned by wine, the foggy state of the
evening, the smoke from the fire of the different batteries, the
captain of dragoons and myself lost each other, and our way. By mistake
my horse, who had been taken from the enemy, took the wrong road, and
instead of going to the left, towards a ford that we had to cross at
some distance in rear of the camp, he chose to take me to the foot of
the bridge leading to Badajoz, where the enemy had a cavalry picket;
fortunately for me, we had a strong covering party of the 43rd Regiment
lying down on the ground. Being unable to give the countersign, these
were going to shoot me for a French officer. They seized my steed, and
knocked me off his back with the butt end of a musket. I was dragged on
the ground back to the camp, where I had to encounter the jokes of my
friends, softened it is true by sincere congratulations on my escape.
My horse, whose head had been turned from Badajoz, got loose, and
managed to find his way back to Olivença, where I was _lucky_ enough
to find him the next day; for sometimes lost horses were borrowed
to carry baggage, commissary stores, or other articles, and they
undergoing various metamorphoses, such as cropping the ears and tails,
with other little changes in their appearances, the lawful owners could
with great difficulty recognise their own steeds.
These slight-of-hand tricks used occasionally to be played; and with
an army consisting of so many thousand troops, composed of various
nations, and covering a vast extent of country, it was not a very easy
matter to trace a lost animal, whether horse, mule, or donkey.
On the evening of the 6th, Badajoz was stormed and taken. _No other
troops in the world_ could have carried a citadel so strong, and so
manfully defended; they behaved most _nobly_, in spite of death and
destruction, which were dealt around with _no sparing hand_.
Our army was indeed a gallant band of warriors, such as we shall never
see again; such as the world probably will never again produce.
Having rejoined the 14th Dragoons at Valverde, I proceeded with them
to the several towns of Almendrab, Santa Martha, Villalva, Villa
Franca, Fuente de Meastro, Rebeiro, and nearly to Usagre. Marshal Soult
pushed forward his cavalry, and some outpost skirmishing took place.
Near Villa Franca, the 12th, 14th, and 16th Light Dragoons, with six
regiments of heavy horse, having joined and drawn up, we expected a
general cavalry action. It passed over, however, with some skirmishing
in front with a numerous body of the enemy’s dragoons, who manœuvred
to cover the retreat of their army.
I recollect one of Soult’s scouts, a Spaniard, being taken by a patrol
of the 14th Dragoons. This fellow was observed stealing, under cover of
night, in the direction of our pickets, when he was seized and brought
in. Being threatened with instant death unless he gave up his despatch,
he fell on his knees and implored for mercy, directing the officer
to cut the third leather button from his coat, when he would find
what he demanded. On taking off the button, a tiny slip of paper was
discovered, on which was written these words, “Hold out: I am coming.”
I saw this _morceau_; it was short and to the purpose. It had been sent
by the marshal to the governor of Badajoz.
My leave of absence having expired, I was obliged to return towards
Lisbon. I had been all day with my brother on the advanced picket,
looking at our videttes and those of the French, near Usagre, when,
having laid down in my clothes to get a little rest, orders arrived to
again advance. No engagement, however, being expected, I was advised to
remain where I was for the night, and to set out in the morning on my
route for the Tagus.
Next day, whilst quietly retracing my steps thither, a brilliant
cavalry affair took place near the above-named town and Llerena, when
the French were completely routed, and many prisoners made. I was sorry
I had not remained to witness the rencontre, but consoled myself with
the reflection that I had probably been saved a broken head, where I
should have gained neither credit nor thanks.
The second day after leaving the army I reached Badajoz, and went over
the defences of that city, which bore strongly the marks of recent
strife. Not the least affecting evidence of mortal affray were the
bodies of several of my gallant countrymen floating in the ditch,
and which people were employed in removing in order to their being
buried. The more I examined the works, the greater my astonishment
at the bravery and perseverance of our troops. By one unacquainted
with military tactics, time alone would have been pronounced capable
of effecting the ruin before him. He could never have conceived it
possible that walls so apparently impregnable would have yielded to the
force of a besieging army. But for the escalade, indeed, failure had
been inevitable where success was now complete, insured as it had been
by immense sacrifice of life.
My road from Badajoz lay through Olivença, where I crossed the river
Guadiana to Xerumaha, and proceeded thence to Villa Vicosa and San
Miguel de Mechada, where I fell in with some French prisoners marching,
under a strong escort, to Lisbon. They had formed part of a division,
under General Girard, when he was surprised and routed by the gallant
Sir Rowland Hill near Miranda.
The fifth day brought me to Evora, where, announcing to the inhabitants
glad tidings of victory, I got an excellent billet at the house of a
padre, who gave me the best dinner and bed I had had for some time.
Evora, the capital of the Alemtejo, is a fine old town, and has still
visible the remains of a Roman wall. Here, too, is the aqueduct, built
by the General Sertorius, which is in tolerable repair after the lapse
of so many ages. This place is fortified, and contains an episcopal
palace.
Time pressing, I set forward the next morning, my friend, the priest,
having obtained an order from the Juis de Fori for a muleteer to attend
me, and convey my baggage on a mule. The fellow turned rather sulky,
so much so that I was obliged to drive him on with my pistol to Vendas
Novas, where, after a hot ride of thirty-six miles, I had to sit up all
night to guard my baggage and prevent the rascal running away, such I
had been informed being his intention the moment I had gone to bed. The
window of my room looking into the street, I told my friend that if he
attempted to escape I would shoot him on the spot. This had the desired
effect, and next morning I proceeded, still driving the Spaniard on
before me, to that dirty place, Pegoeus, where, falling in with a party
of English soldiers, I gave him in charge to them.
The following day I arrived, after a ride of five hours, at Aldea
Galega, where, dismissing my muleteer, who made many humble apologies
for his behaviour, I embarked in the ferry-boat, and crossed over to
Lisbon. The fellow, it appeared, was fearful of being again pressed at
Aldea Galega into the service of the commissaries to carry stores or
provisions to the army.
Captain Hood Linze, of H.M.S. _Ocean_ (98), being obliged to invalid on
account of a severe wound from the stab of a madman, I was, on the 11th
June, 1812, appointed acting commander of H.M.S. _Brune_.