Major C——, on joining the regiment in November 1810, being obliged to take lodgings in town, was, one morning before day-break, roused by a hideous noise under his windows. Conceiving that this proceeded from a body of carders, on their way to attack the barracks, the major paced the floor in a twinkling, decorated in his military paraphernalia. John, whom the sonorous voice of his master had awakened from dreams of earthly bliss, to ruminate on the troubles of the other world, entered the major's apartment just as the latter was buckling on his sword, and with extended mouth, and eyes half open, eagerly inquired what had happened. "The carders are by this time at the barracks," replied the major. "Did you see them, Sir?" said John, rather anxiously. "Why, no," answered the major, "but I heard their unearthly screams as they passed under the windows." Here a considerable pause ensued; for John, having some doubts on the subject, scratched his head, shrugged his shoulders, and with an unmeaning grin on his countenance, stood as if anxious to state them, but yet afraid to do so. Silence being at length broken by the major inquiring the cause of John's grimaces and shrugs, the latter instantly replied, "I have just been thinking, Sir, that what ye ha'e ta'en for the cheers of thae blackguards, the carders, has probably been the skirlings of some country lassies at a funeral." The morning being uncommonly dark, and the major totally unacquainted with the mode of conducting funerals in Ireland, John's remark, instead of producing any change in the major's original intention, only tended to convince him, that his servant was better fitted for a snug berth in Bedlam, than the one which he held near his person. Fully satisfied, therefore, that the garrison would derive but little assistance from John, Major C——, after bestowing on his servant a few well dove-tailed epithets, was descending the stair on his way to the barracks, when his landlord, who had overheard the latter part of the conversation, pursued his gallant tenant, and soon succeeded in convincing him, that the noise was nothing more than the mellifluous notes of a few of his fair country-women accompanying some departed friend to the place of everlasting repose.
Having thus gratified the wishes of my friend, though perhaps not to the extent he may have expected, we shall now, with his permission, take a temporary leave of Erin, and by easy stages, proceed to the theatre of war in the Peninsula,
"And join the gallant quarrel."
CHAPTER III.
With a detachment, consisting of one major, two captains, four subalterns, one assistant-surgeon, and 248 rank and file, I took leave of Athlone on the morning of the 17th of August 1811, and proceeded to Fairbane, on our way to the place of embarkation. On the 18th we moved forward to Birr—next day to Roscrea—on the 20th to Thurles—and on the 21st to Tipperary, where we halted on the following day. On the 23d our route led us to Mitchelstown, and to Fermoy on the 24th. Here an order had preceded us for forty-eight of the detachment to return to Athlone, they being considered too young to undergo the fatigues of a Peninsular campaign. The poor young lads, on being made acquainted with their new destiny, absolutely shed tears of sincere heart-felt sorrow. Two hours before day-light, on the morning of the 30th, they commenced their retrograde movement; and about as long after day-break we also bade adieu to Fermoy,—proceeded to Cork,—and on the following morning embarked at Monkston, on board of the Minerva transport.
Having previously purchased a competent stock of provisions for our little voyage, we weighed anchor at seven o'clock on the morning of the 7th of September, and shortly after quitted Cove harbour, under a gentle breeze from the land. Continuing to scud along with a favourable gale, we descried the Rock of Lisbon a little after sun-rise on the 19th. About two o'clock a pilot paid us a visit, and carried the old bark up the majestic Tagus in fine style, to a berth opposite Fort-Belem. At three o'clock, p.m. on the following day, we disembarked at the Blackhorse square. The men were quartered in a convent, and the officers upon the inhabitants.
The exterior appearance of Lisbon from the Tagus is extremely beautiful, vieing in splendour with the finest city in Europe. But the interior view of it is so truly disgusting, that we are forced to place it in a scale beneath the rank of the very lowest. The streets, which are narrow and ill-paved, are filthy beyond description. But how can it be otherwise, when every night, between nine and ten o'clock, every thing, no matter how disgusting, is tumbled from the windows and balconies of the houses into the streets, and with so little warning, that the ominous Garde-del'eau seldom reaches the ears of the passengers till they have been completely soused by their brethren in the upper regions. Now, to remove this abominable nuisance, which offends the eye, as well as the nasal organs of every stranger, none of the inhabitants ever contribute either personal service, or pecuniary aid. What, therefore, can be expected in a city such as Lisbon, but filth, particularly when it possesses no scavengers, save the rains of heaven which occasionally descend in torrents, and hordes of half-starved dogs, which are confined all day without meat, and in the evening turned adrift to find food as they best can, to satisfy the cravings of hunger. The piteous howlings of those wretched animals, as they crawl along the streets, would wring a tear of sympathy from the heart of a savage; and yet it produces no other effect on that of a Portuguese, than to excite a laugh at the expense of the individual who may have the humanity to commiserate the cruel fate of the poor four-footed scavengers.
A little before our arrival at Lisbon, a party of officers, on landing from England, agreed to dine together previous to retiring to their respective billets. Happy to meet, and sorry to part, they continued to while away the time so pleasantly, that the clock told nine before they were aware that more than seven hours of the last half of the day had passed away. As their quarters lay in different parts of the city, each individual at parting had to act as his own guide. In the group there was one, who, to an amiable, added rather a timorous disposition. This officer had proceeded but a short way on his journey, when the usual cry, Garde-del'eau, struck his ears from various quarters at the same time. Being alike ignorant of the language, as of the customs of the Portuguese, he fancied himself surrounded by individuals who intended doing him some bodily harm. Pausing a moment, to see if any friendly hand was near, or any loop-hole by which he could effect his escape, he was glad to observe but few people in the street, and that the greater portion of his enemies were several stories above him. This discovery led him to try if a good pair of heels would remove him to a place of greater safety. He accordingly started at a pace which would not have disgraced any of the winners of the Great St Leger, but in the hurry, his foot unfortunately struck the corner of a broken flag, when down he tumbled, amidst shouts of Garde-del'eau, and the contents of numerous mortars from the batteries above. In a twinkling he started to his feet, and bounded along like a deer, he knew not whither, every now and then receiving the partial contents of an additional mortar. At length worn-out, and observing something resembling a guard-house, he walked in. His appearance, however, being a little cadaverous, the officer of the guard (a Portuguese) shewed at first a disinclination to hold converse with him; but on the British hero making his hair-breadth 'scapes known to his foreign brother, the latter, though he deeply commiserated the fate of his visitor's uniform, yet enjoyed a hearty laugh at his expense, in which not only the guard, but the subject of merriment himself, ultimately joined.
From the immense number of British officers and soldiers that were continually parading the streets of Lisbon, a stranger not knowing the cause, would, on first witnessing the novel spectacle, have been apt enough to exclaim, "What! has Portugal become a colony of Great Britain?" From morning to night the Adjutant General, Quarter-master General, and Town-major's offices were constantly filled with officers and non-commissioned officers. Some reporting their arrival from England—others from the army. Some were applying for a passage to England—others for a route to the army on the frontiers. Some were necessarily and usefully employed in copying extracts from the general orders of the army, regarding the marching of detachments to and from the army,—others were in quest of billets,—and the whole were in close pursuit of the Commissary.
Having received our camp equipment, and every other article we required, we embarked in boats at six o'clock on the morning of the 28th of September, and both wind and tide being favourable, the whole disembarked at Valada, forty miles above Lisbon, at two o'clock in the afternoon. This small village stands on the right bank of the Tagus, and at that time almost every house in it bore ample testimony of the friendship which the ruthless invaders entertained for the proprietors.