Random Shots from a Rifleman

by J. Kincaid

In three out of four of my sojourns there, a friend and I had the good fortune to be quartered in the same house. The family consisted of a mother and two daughters, who were very good-looking and remarkably kind. Our return was ever watched for with intense interest, and when they could not command sufficient influence with the local authorities to have the house reserved, they nevertheless contrived to squeeze us in; for when people are in a humour to be pleased with each other, small space suffices for their accommodation.

Such uniform kindness on their part, it is unnecessary to say, did not fail to meet a suitable return on ours. We had few opportunities of falling in with things that were rich and rare, (if I except such jewels as those just mentioned,) yet were we always stumbling over something or other, which was carefully preserved for our next happy meeting; and whether they were gems or gew-gaws, they were alike valued for the sake of the donors.

The kindness shown by one family to two particular individuals goes, of course, for nothing beyond its value; but the feeling there seemed to be universal.

Our usual morning's amusement was to visit one or other of the convents, and having ascertained the names of the different pretty nuns, we had only to ring the bell, and request the pleasure of half-an-hour's conversation with one of the prettiest amongst them, to have it indulged; and it is curious enough that I never yet asked a nun, or an attendant of a nunnery, if she would elope with me, that she did not immediately consent,—and that, too, unconditionally.

My invitations to that effect were not general, but, on the contrary, remarkably particular; and to show that in accepting it they meant no joke, they invariably pointed out the means, by telling me that they were strictly watched at that time, but if I returned privately, a week or two after the army had passed, they could very easily arrange the manner of their escape.

I take no credit to myself for any preference shewn, for if there be any truth in my looking-glass—and it was one of the most flattering I could find—their discriminating powers would entitle them to small credit for any partiality shewn to me individually; and while it was no compliment, therefore, to me, or to the nunnery, it must necessarily be due to nature, as showing that the good souls were overflowing with the milk of human kindness, and could not say nay while they possessed the powers of pleasing: for, as far as I have compared notes with my companions, the feeling seemed to have been general.

On quitting Portalegre, we stopped, the next night, at Aronches, a small miserable walled town, with scarcely a house in it that would entitle the holder to vote on a ten shilling franchise; and on the night following we went into bivouac, on Monte Reguingo, between Campo Mayor and the Caya, where we remained a considerable time. We were there, as our gallant historian (Napier) tells us, in as judicious but, at the same time, in as desperate a position as any that Lord Wellington had held during the war; yet, I am free to say, however, that none of us knew any thing at all about the matter, and cared still less. We there held, as we ever did, the most unbounded confidence in our chief, and a confidence in ourselves, fed by continued success, which was not to be shaken; so that we were at all times ready for any thing, and reckless of every thing. The soldiers had become so inured to toil and danger that they seemed to have set disease, the elements, and the enemy alike at defiance. Head-aches and heart-aches were unknown amongst them, and whether they slept under a roof, a tent, or the open sky, or whether they amused themselves with a refreshing bath in a stream, or amused the enemy with a shot, was all a matter of indifference. I do not eulogize our own men at the expense of others, for although the light division stood on that particular post alone, our chief confidence originated in the hope and belief that every division in the army was animated by the same spirit.

The day after our taking post at Reguingo, notwithstanding my boasted daring, we were put to the rout by an unlooked-for enemy, namely, a fire in the bivouac;—a scorching sun had dried up the herbage, and some of the camp-fires communicated with the long grass on which we were lodged; the fresh summer-breeze wafted the ground flame so rapidly through the bivouac that before all the arms and accoutrements could be removed, many of the men's pouches were blown-up, and caused some accidents.

I believe it is not generally, and cannot be too well known to military men, that this is a measure which is very often had recourse to by an enemy, (when the wind favours,) to dislodge a post from a field of standing corn or long grass; and the only way to counteract it is, for the officer commanding the post to fire the grass immediately behind him, so that by the time the enemy's fire has burnt up, his own will have gone away in proportion, and left a secure place for him to stand on, without losing much ground.

Our bivouac at Monte Reguingo abounded in various venomous reptiles, and it is curious enough to think that amongst the thousands of human beings sleeping in the same bed and at their mercy, one rarely or never heard of an injury done by them.