Lisbon, Dec. 6, 1811.
The Marshal was to have left this for the Army a week ago, and it was his intention to go on Sunday, the day after to-morrow, but a fresh cold will, however, I perceive, detain him some days. He is still very weak and liable to catch cold at the least exposure, which makes me feel quite a horror of his attempting to move at this time of year. But he is very anxious to join the army, and go I see we shall the moment he is able to move. We go to Abrantes first, then Thomar and Coimbra, to inspect the different Depôts of the recruits, and from thence to the Army, to Villa Formoza on the Coa, where we fix our Hd. Qrs. for I daresay the winter. As I see not the slightest prospect of anything being done, the Marshal’s health causes my principal anxiety. His loss, or suspension for any time from his duty, would be a very serious misfortune for this Country. Everybody feels it and laments his indisposition. It is to-day very cold, so much so that, as we are not blessed with fireplaces in this country, and have the plague of many doors and windows, all of which require caulking, I can hardly write—and notwithstanding he will go to a review of the Commercial Volunteer Regiment, composed of merchants and gentlemen of Lisbon, who have done all the duties for two years in the town with the greatest zeal and regularity. They are magnificently appointed at their own expense, Cavalry and Infantry, and upwards of 1300 strong. I wish they were 10 leagues off, that the Marshal might not risk a worse cold to pay them a compliment.
We had a most ridiculous hoax here on the 2nd, which put all Lisbon in a ferment. An English Officer gave out, and hand bills were spread all over the town, that for a wager of £500 he was to walk across the Tagus, from Belem to the opposite bank, in a pair of Cork Boots of wonderful construction. The joke took most completely. Everybody was anxious to see this wonderful performance, which was to take place at one o’clock, and even the day before every Chaise, Mule, Horse, Donkey, Boat or Barge, was in requisition, and great prices paid. At an early hour on the 2nd, the beach near Belem was thronged, “grandees” and “little dees,” great and small, men, women, and children, of all nations and professions, continued to pour in. The day was very fine and the Coup d’œil most beautiful. The river was crowded almost near 1¾ mile with vessels of every description, and the beach and streets with carriages, equestrians, and pedestrians. At the appointed hour a report was spread that the man could not pass till four on account of the tide, and the Mobility and the Nobility waited in anxious expectation, though many began to suspect the Humbug and plenty retired. I had accidentally got a hint of its being a hoax the day before, and therefore only rode down in the afternoon, and a more laughable or absurd scene I never beheld. The people began to be undeceived, some laughed, some were angry, and meeting in their retreat those who undeceived by the way, went only to laugh at the others, and rallying them most unmercifully made them ten times worse. The Portuguese consoled themselves with the idea that the English were as great fools as themselves. Thinks I to myself, they always are on the subject of wonders. I rode quietly along the pavement and was exceedingly amused with the observations of the people. I laughed so much that I was hardly able to sit on my horse, and got a little abuse in consequence which I was prepared to answer and laugh at. A great many of my friends were there. To these I bowed respectfully with a malicious smile, and, “how did you like the man with the boots?” Many ladies and gentlemen in order to have a better view took possession of the Tower at low water, and were so intent upon the beautiful scene on the River, that they quite forgot that the tide would shut them in, and were obliged to be at the expense of Boat hire to take them back to their carriages. Others availed themselves of men’s backs, horses, and any conveyance according to their finances, the water being only a few feet deep, but it was really a most ridiculous sight. Nothing is talked of now in Lisbon but the man with Cork Boots, and it has given rise to the drollest reports and lies. Some even swear they saw him, and describe his figure, dress, etc. Thinks I to myself, “What a ...” Others say he attempted it and failed. Others that his boots sprung a leak and required caulking. Thinks I to myself, “They all l...” and that is likely, for they have wickedly that vice in this country.... We do not move on Sunday, or for some days, as the Marshal has again caught a bad cold and is unwell....
Poor Walter has misbehaved, and I have sent him home to his Regt. He is a poor devil. His misfortune is to be a great fool.
Lisbon, Dec. 14, 1811.
My Dearest Mother,
... The Marshal is much better and again talks of leaving Lisbon next Wednesday morning. I hope he will not again relapse, but even if he continues to mend, I am not quite easy about the journey for him at this time of year, and as there is absolutely no prospect of anything being done at present in the way of operations, both armies appearing to have gone very quietly into Winter quarters, I think him very imprudent in venturing, but perhaps the change of air may do him great good.
We go first to Abrantes, Thomar, and Coimbra. I told you I should write a stupid letter, and John Brown is putting all my rhapsodies to flight by his noise. He desires his love to E.’s poodle, and to be remembered to the rest of the family. We are going at 3 o’clock to a grand funeral of Brigadier-General Coleman, who died of fever after suffering a great deal. He is to be buried with military honours. No man ever died more generally or deservedly lamented, and, what is more than anything distressing, is that he leaves his poor father and mother and sisters, who depended on him for support, in rather painful circumstances. His poor old father resigned the office of Sergeant-at-Arms to him moyennant a pension, which he loses with his son. I am very sorry for him: what a pity he left the House of Commons to come here at all!...
I hope the Company at Porto’s business may be settled to my father’s satisfaction, but that he will not come out till the spring, for it is almost impossible to travel in this desolated country in winter. Yrs., etc., etc.,