The way to this bridge is very bad, being a zig-zag pathway called the pass of San Felices. The water dashing against the rugged sides of this river and the great depth of the chasm make the appearance to a stranger wonderfully terrific. These were the mountains we had to guard and place our sentries in the different intricate pathways, and to post them in the dark in order to deceive our enemy and take them off before daylight. One night at twelve o'clock I went to visit the sentries, when, missing my way, owing to the excessive darkness of the night, I travelled until daylight. The French had a piquet of seventy men on the opposite side of the mountain on a level with ours. On this side we for some time were in the habit of looking at each other with only about half a mile in a direct line between us. They now and then tried to pick some of our men off, but their shots never took effect. On the 19th of March the company I belonged to had the post of honour for the night, and about eight o'clock in the evening I went with my captain (Captain O'Hare) to post the sentries. After placing a sergeant and twelve men about fifty yards from the bridge, we posted a double sentry behind a rock about fifteen yards from it, which, in case the French passed it, were to fire and retire back to the twelve men and endeavour to maintain their ground until the company came to their assistance. I crawled over the bridge to the French side to see if I could see their sentries or observe if any of them were coming near the bridge, but saw nothing and returned up the mountain to the tent pitched for the convenience of the officers for lying in between the hours of going their rounds.
The remainder of the company were in a little church lying round a wood fire until their turn for duty at half-past eleven o'clock. The other lieutenant returned and pronounced all quiet. At twelve o'clock we heard several shots fired. We directly fell in the remainder of the company and marched towards the bridge. We soon met a man coming with information that the French were passing the bridge in great force. We marched forward and found them forming in line, with drums beating and yelling furiously. They fired to the amount of five hundred rounds, the balls whistling over our heads. Our gallant Commander ordered us not to let the men fire until we came within fifteen yards of them. The French fired another volley. We still moved on as silent as possible, fired, and gave them an English huzza. The men opposed to us were a little staggered. We again loaded and came breast to breast. Lieutenant Mercer called, "Simmons," and rushed on towards a stone several had got behind, while he drove others in front. Our men were shooting them in every direction, when an unlucky ball passed through poor Mercer's head just as he was saying, "Our brave fellows fight like Britons."
At this moment three or four fell wounded near him. A French officer I had the satisfaction to see fall also. A fine young fellow put his rifle to the officer's throat and shot him dead, crying out, "Revenge the death of Mr. Mercer." He instantly received seven shots in his body. At this time the enemy were surrounding us in every direction. Captain O'Hare called out, "We will never retire. Here we will stand. They shall not pass but over my body." The shots flew round us as thick as hailstones, and they were advancing upon us, but we kept up a terrible fire. The moon showed sufficiently to let us see their numbers. I saw French officers beating their men with their swords to make them try to drive us from the rocks we occupied, and several letting their muskets fall and clapping their hands upon their sides or arms when they had received a wound and scampering. Just at this serious crisis, I saw the three companies coming to our assistance—the pleasantest sight I ever beheld. We set up a most furious shout. The French soon knew the reason. Our companies fixed swords and came on like lions, the Colonel at their head, the French scampering off in the greatest dismay, throwing down their arms and running down the precipices and carrying off their killed and wounded, as they generally endeavour to do, in order that the number they lose should not be well ascertained by their enemies. Our gallant Colonel received a musket ball through his cap. The French, luckily for us, fired very high, or, from their great superiority, they must have destroyed every man of our company before the other three came to our assistance. We had only 43 men opposed to over 500 for half an hour. When we disembarked in this country first we had 100 rank and file. In the morning we found our loss to be one officer and five men killed, seven men badly wounded. The other three companies lost two killed and eight wounded. We found twelve Frenchmen and two officers killed. Some of them had six or seven wounds. We also picked up five poor fellows most desperately wounded and caught three prisoners.
The next day we learnt from a spy that the French colonel, who headed the storming party, received a shot through his jaw, and that they dragged away nearly 100 killed and wounded. The French that attacked us were Grenadiers and Light Infantry, to the amount of 600, picked from 3000 men who had volunteered for the occasion. They also had among the rocks on their side, 1500 men, who kept up a fire merely to deceive us, and ready to pass the bridge as soon as the storming party had gained their point. So confident was their General (Baron de Férey) of success that he ordered them as soon as they got to the town to bring up all the English wounded and take care of them, and not use the prisoners ill. This man had all along been fighting with Spaniards, and thought we should fight like them. It is not likely, I think, from the present appearance of things in general, that we shall stay much longer. We expect the French will soon bring ten to one against us, and of course we must retire, after some hard fighting, for 250 miles before we get to Lisbon and embark to come home. I consider myself very lucky in not receiving a scratch, being exposed so long to the enemy's fire. I now know what it is to meet the enemy in the field, and am confident I shall always do my duty when opposed to the foes of my country. My captain was pleased to say my conduct had given him the greatest satisfaction. He is a very brave man, and has fought in twenty actions in different parts of the world.[7] I hope shortly to give you an account of something more decisive, should they come on by daylight. I hope you will stick by the regiment I ordered for Charles. I send this account of the battle only for your information, knowing it will please you, but do not wish it to be made known; the man who passes himself off to the world only shows his weakness. My love to the best of mothers. I hope yet to meet and tell her personally of the hairbreadth escapes and dangers I have passed. My love to my dear Ann and all the family. My respects to my uncle and aunt. I wrote a long letter to Colonel Sibthorp the other day. I remain your ever affectionate son,
Geo. Simmons.
You must pay the postage to Falmouth, I believe, or inquire at the post office, or it is ten to one I ever receive your letters.
Direct when you write, Lieutenant Simmons, 1st Battalion, 95th or Rifle Regiment, Lord Wellington's Army, Portugal.