Villar Torpin, 28th February 1810.
Dear Parents—Your epistle came to hand a few days back, which gave me infinite pleasure and gratification.
I have for some time been in expectation of receiving a letter from Maud. I suppose he is not well informed where I am stationed. He had a severe illness in the neighbourhood of Badajoz, and wrote for advice, which he since informs me was of service, and before he marched he had quite recovered. At the same time I was expected hourly to bid a final adieu to this world. Judge what a situation to give advice to a bed-ridden brother. However, I hinted nothing relative to myself, and endeavoured to write in good spirits, which at that period had good effect.
From fatigues my ague again revisited me, and continued daily for some time, and at last terminated in a fever very prevalent through the army at that period, and which confined me entirely to bed for three weeks. But from the kind attention of my good landlady, who was continually watching over me, I surprised numbers and deceived the grim King of Terrors. As soon as I was able to move I went to a very healthy spot in Spain, and improving daily (in a wonderful manner) speedily recovered. Since that time I have traversed nearly the whole of Portugal, and seen most of the best towns through the country, marching four, five, and six leagues per diem, sometimes sleeping and living in the grandest houses in the country, and at others in the most wretched hovels not as good as an English pig-sty. Our present situation is about 300 miles march from Campo Mayor, and half of our way was over stupendous mountains—in short, it was beyond anything I could have conceived, and has highly compensated me for my labour. I spared no pains in visiting all the churches and monasteries and castles in my way, which were curious and frequently very interesting. At Coimbra, an exceeding good town, and possessed of several rich convents, with a beautiful church and museum of curiosities, two stuffed crocodiles attracted my notice much, being 30 feet long, also tigers and a variety of different beasts of prey in a high state of preservation. At the convent of Santa Clara the nuns presented several of the British officers with sweetmeats, which were very nice.
The friars and nuns at all the convents I have visited behaved with the greatest politeness. It often excited my pity for so many poor unfortunate women, who might have lived in the world and proved an ornament to Society, but, alas! doomed by their parents from superstitious bigotry to be secluded from the world and live entombed in a vile prison, like common felons or miscreants, not fit to be at large. The monks and priests of different orders live and prey upon the vitals (if I may use the expression) of the people; they endeavour to keep up that superstitious bigotry, which enables them to exercise their extortions to the greatest degree upon the deluded and infatuated multitude. The most miserable hovels in the country must have six or eight painted images, dressed out in the most whimsical and fantastic manner, imitating Jesus Christ, etc., a variety of saints more calculated to excite laughter than convey any idea of the Deity. It is through these wooden dolls they worship the Almighty, but it is my opinion one half of them worship the images or saints they stick up. At a certain hour in the day, sometimes twice or thrice, a bell rings, the people off with their hats and chatter over a little prayer, which, if their conscience pricks them, or they have committed a slight irregularity, they repeat ten or a dozen times and feel perfectly satisfied. Our present quarters are truly miserable; on all sides stupendous mountains; the people wretched in the extreme, clothes hardly sufficient to cover themselves, and positively not a degree above savages—I mean as to their method of living. Of a morning they will turn out of their wretched cabins and are to be seen sitting in rows upon the ground in the sun picking lice off themselves and out of each other's heads; they do not mind, or endeavour to hide themselves from your view. At first it disgusted me, but from habit I stand by and joke them about the number they have killed, which they take in great good-humour, and tell you, so many that they could not keep account!
Their houses are built of rough stone, generally 7 or 8 feet high (some exceptions to this rule), with no outlet for smoke; the fire is made by the wall side, and consists generally of mountain heather or broom, which produces a most intolerable smoke, and gives a person who is not well seasoned, a copious flow of tears. The family sit on the ground round it; the house is entirely enveloped in smoke, and every side of the wall is like a chimney, which they never take pains to sweep clean. The people never wash themselves, and seldom comb their heads. The women have an immense quantity of long black hair, and never wear bonnets, and seldom shoes and stockings. Garlic, oil, and dark brown bread of Indian corn and rye is principally their food; they certainly stared to see us eat beef, pork, etc., in such quantities, and drink wine so freely.
These are the people we have the honour of living with at present in the mountains on the north frontier of Portugal. Our regiment occupies this position to preserve the left flank of the army from a sudden attack. The other day the French menaced us, but retired. They are at present in great force in the vicinity of San Felices, three leagues from us; they make sad havoc among the cattle in the vicinity, killing and wasting all they cannot carry away, and breaking everything in the houses of the unfortunate inhabitants, and what is worse than all, they knock down all idols in the churches; this shocked the people more than all the rest put together. Things are daily drawing to a crisis. Spain is lost, I firmly believe. Whenever the French show themselves the Spaniards are panic-struck. The French are, it is supposed, forming two grand armies to attack us, and we daily expect to retire in order to concentrate our little army. It is rumoured that the Portuguese have refused to march to attack the French near Badajoz, who are besieging that town. If this is the case we shall soon retire upon Lisbon, but let it be as it may, I have great confidence in Lord Wellington, who is able to extricate us if difficulties have to be surmounted, and highly competent to command Britons in the field and lead them off with glory. In a few weeks you will have great news on this head, depend upon it.
The only thing I at present want is a supply of clothes. The lying out at night in the fields for months together soon puts your raiment in disorder. I am nearly in rags.
We have been in the habit of procuring excellent wine latterly at 6d. per quart. We live well now and then. John Bull likes good feeding, and none better than myself.