Wm. Warre.

I have got Jack’s horse on board in the Westmorland with my horses, and, as he will have thus two horses at Lisbon, think he is very right in taking out his groom with him. Adieu.


Hd. Qrs., St Olaia, June 20, 1811.

My Dear Father,

... I am very much obliged to Arbuthnot and to you for your trouble about my promotion, which, I suppose, is by this settled. I think your letter to Torrens a very proper one, and I myself wrote to him by last packet and to M’Mahon, which I thought right, and really felt a strong inclination to do, expressing my gratitude for all his and Mrs M’Mahon’s kindness, which has been uniform and most obliging, but we must not press any business there for the present, though after all, what I have got, I must have had without any interest, except Beresford’s.

The Marshal is, I am happy to observe, somewhat better, though he will require some time of quiet of body and mind to put him quite right again, and I really hope, if Marshal Soult leaves us alone for the present, as I think most likely, that the Marshal will go to Lisbon for a month or six weeks, and try sea-bathing and a change of air. But till the intentions of the enemy can be positively ascertained, I know he will not be persuaded to move to the rear.

This movement of the army to the rear will, I hope, satisfy our newsmongers as to the propriety of raising the siege of Badajos. It was about just in time, or we should have had to fight a battle, perhaps against a very superior force, and under every disadvantage. It would have been a good thing to have taken the place, but we had a very limited period to do it in, much too much so for an attack en rêgle. It was worth attempting, and our failing only proves that the place required a more regular attack, for which it is evident we had lost time. It is now free again, and our Army has retired, leaving Elvas to its right, and now occupies this place, Campo Mayor, towards Portalegre, and Hill’s and Cole’s Divisions and the heavy Cavalry the woods round Torre de Mouro, about 4 miles, half-way between this and Campo Mayor, in which is the 1st Dns. and some P. Cavalry, and the 11th Lt. Dns. and 12 Hussars are at Elvas and near it, and give that outpost duty.

We dined yesterday with Ld. Wellington at St Vincente, about ½-way (5 miles) between this and Elvas, where he has a very pretty Quinta, and after dinner we rode to the Camp (4 miles) and Torre de Mouro, and nearly to Campo Mayor, to look over the positions (4 more), and we had then 8 to ride back to this, which is not a bad afternoon’s ride, and it was very late when we got here. This is a little town, and we are pretty well off, notwithstanding its being a good deal crowded with 13th Lt. Dns. and General Castanhos’ Hd. Qrs., who has now no army. He is a good-natured well-meaning man, but not remarkable either for talent or judgement. I do not think the enemy will advance immediately, though greatly superior to us in number. They must be as anxious as we can be to rest and refit, and can hardly have recovered their defeat at Albuera, though in numbers increased by the junction of Marmont and Drouet with their Corps, and he must first besiege and take Elvas, which, (though I have no very high opinion of either its Governor, or the principal part of its garrison, and know it to have very weak points,) would I hope at all events delay him some weeks....

The Portuguese Government are wretchedly off for money. Nothing whatever is paid for. The Officers have not had a farthing for four months, and when I sent for my pay, the answer was não ha dinheiro. Things cannot long go on so, and I fear all the Marshal’s exertions hitherto will have been to no avail, and the country go completely to ruin in spite of him and all his zeal and activity, unless some remedy is applied to the horrid mismanagement and almost torpid want of energy in the Government. We want for everything, and have not the means, or are we likely that I can see to have them, for the most trifling occurrences. I feel for the Marshal, to whom these disgusts are, I am sure, a great cause of his illness.