Residence in Lisbon
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.
I expect to quit Lisbon in a day or two.
Give my immense love to dear old Dad, etc., etc.——Yours, my dearest Mamsey,
Charles.