The troops now entered the town of Arroyo Molinos, and I proceeded directly to the Prince D’Arenberg’s quarters, to which I was called by General Hill, who requested that I would accompany the prince to Lisbon, and this too at the prince’s request. Upon my expressing an unwillingness thus to go to the rear, the general paid me a very flattering compliment, saying that had he not deemed it necessary to retire in a day or two at the farthest, he would not request, nor even consent to my leaving the army even for a day; but that Soult’s corps were advancing, which rendered it necessary for him to retire. Colonel Rook, the adjutant-general, being present, asked me with what escort I would undertake the charge, and if I thought twenty men sufficient. I offered to be responsible for the prince’s safe conveyance with four men and two dragoons. Rook replied that he would double the number of infantry which he proposed, but could not grant a single dragoon. I then consented to go with a corporal and six men of my own regiment. He agreed to the number but not to the regiment; the bulk of the prisoners were to be escorted by a suitable detachment of the 34th, and he could not break up a second regiment. And so with Corporal Hughes and six men of the 34th I commenced my march for Lisbon. I very soon repented of having taken so small an escort, not on account of the prince, but of the French commissary, whom, at the particular request of the prince, I allowed, though unwillingly, to accompany him; had I foreseen the annoyance and danger which his presence caused I certainly should have refused the request. In proceeding through the Spanish frontier we passed through the same towns which Gerard occupied during his foraging, or rather marauding excursion immediately before; and it required all my exertions to protect the commissary from being torn to pieces. The peasantry collected round the houses where we halted for the night, loudly demanding the commissary; and although I harangued them and pointed out the national disgrace that would attend any outrage committed on the prisoners, and the insult it would be to England whose prisoners they were and consequently under her protection, still I felt it always prudent to make the guard load in their presence, and to place double sentries over the house, with orders, loudly delivered, to shoot any who should attempt a forcible entrance.

Although the escort consisted but of ten persons, the corporal and his party of six, my servant, batman, and self, and the prisoners amounted to the same number—viz., the prince, a captain of his regiment, his secretary, two cooks, his Swiss coachman, three other servants and the commissary—still I allowed them all to carry arms. I felt no dread of their escaping, being fully convinced that they were much more inclined to remain my prisoners than think of escape, for they were fully aware that they would be torn to atoms by the enraged peasantry; moreover the prince, in whose honour I confided, held himself responsible for all. I remarked to the prince with a smile in the presence of the whole party, that I felt certain his pledge was not endangered, stating the reasons above mentioned; yet I told him plainly that if his authority were not sufficient to oblige the commissary (who was present) to keep more retired, and not with imprudent gasconade to present himself at the doors and windows and thus irritate an enraged population, I should reluctantly be compelled to make him a close prisoner and place a sentry over him, not so much for his safety as for that of others, whom I held in higher consideration. But although I gained my point, yet until I got across the Spanish frontier I was in continual alarm, all owing to our graminivorous companion. Albeit though this commissary certainly was as impertinent and forward a fellow as I ever met with, still he could not in justice be held personally responsible for the outrages which drew upon him this general odium; for when he robbed the peasantry of all their grain, cattle and provisions of every kind, and as much specie as he could grasp, he acted under superior command; he was therefore but a simple machine. But the lower orders, solely interested in present good or evil, rarely investigate the remote cause which produces the present effect.

The last Spanish town through which we passed was Valencia de Alcantara; and here I had the honour of reporting our arrival to the captain-general of the province, General Castanos, a fine fat jolly-looking fellow. Being about to quit the Spanish territory next day, the prince and I entered into a conversation about the general character of the inhabitants.

In allusion to the late action and the movements which led to that event, I warmly expatiated on the praiseworthy fidelity of the Spaniards, particularly those of Arroyo Molinos and Alcuescar, in never having communicated our near approach to the French army. The prince replied that they did not use such fidelity as I imagined, for the night previous to the action two Spaniards came to his quarters in Arroyo Molinos and informed him that we were much nearer than the French general seemed to be aware of; that upon this he immediately imparted the information to Gerard, who replied: “Prince, you are a good and active soldier, but you always see the English in your front, rear and flank. I tell you they are eight leagues distant, for I know to a certainty that they were seen in the morning marching hastily towards Caceres, thinking to find us there; and so confident do I feel as to the certainty of what I tell you that I shall delay the march to-morrow an hour later to give the men more time for repose.” Much hurt at the general’s remark, which had the appearance of insinuating that he entertained a dread of encountering the English, the prince returned to his quarters. About an hour before dawn next morning the general sent for him, according to custom, to take a glass of old rum; this he declined, the conversation of the previous evening being still painfully in his recollection. In less than an hour afterwards he heard a loud and confused cry in the streets, when instantly his adjutant darted breathless into the room holloaing out, “Mon prince! mon prince! nous sommes attrapÉs!” The English were driving through the town. At the heels of the adjutant in rushed Gerard, aghast and foaming at the mouth, and exhorted the prince to use every exertion to get the cavalry out of the town. “Ha!” said the prince, “do I always see the English where they are not?” “For the love of God,” replied Gerard, “do not add to my distraction. This is not a time for badinage or reproof; exert yourself to the utmost or we are undone. The English are forcing their way through the town. Get the cavalry out and form on the plain as quickly as possible.” The rest I knew.

Next morning we left Valencia before dawn and were soon in the Portuguese territory. The prisoners now breathed freely, not having felt very secure during our route through Spain. The mountains we had now to cross were very steep and excessively difficult of ascent, especially with a wheeled vehicle. The prince travelled very comfortably in a handsome carriage taken at Arroyo Molinos, in which fortunately he was always accompanied by his graminivorous friend, whom the prince and I used facetiously to call Bucephalus. Four large Spanish mules which drew the carriage being insufficient to haul it up those hills, I directed that a couple of bullocks which were ploughing alongside the road should be added to the team. The harnessing was attempted in a violent manner by the Swiss coachman, an immensely stout and large person; but one of the animals becoming very restive, severely wounded him with one of his horns. The wound was excessively severe and dangerous, but being ignorant of technical terms I must decline attempting a description. The coachman, becoming furious from pain, drew his sabre, and cutting and slashing right and left so wounded the bullock that I ordered the guard to disarm him, and never after allowed him to carry any other weapon than his whip, although he frequently entreated the prince to intercede for the recovery of his sabre. The owners having interposed, the animals were quietly harnessed, and after a long pull we at last reached the summit. Owing to its great height and the season being rather advanced (the middle of November), the atmosphere was excessively cold. We halted on this our first Portuguese mountain for some hours, and I cannot forget our delicious repast upon roasted chestnuts and goats’ milk, plentifully supplied by the Portuguese shepherds. Thunderstruck on hearing that one of their guests was no less a personage than a prince, they crowded round the blazing fire before which we were feasting to have the illustrious stranger pointed out, no doubt expecting to see in a person of such exalted rank something superhuman.

Continuing our route tranquilly and without any adventure, we arrived at Portalegre, which again became General Hill’s headquarters. Here we halted for a few days, during which we were visited by Prince Pierre d’Arenberg, who had procured General Hill’s permission to come and see his brother, in whose regiment he was a cornet. Prince Prosper felt some delicacy in conversing with him except in my presence; but as I received no decisive instructions on the subject, I declined intruding on their conversation; and feeling in no way anxious to pry into their family concerns, I remarked to Prince Prosper that he had nothing of military consequence to communicate, and as to the treatment which he met with from the British it was but just that he should have an opportunity of declaring it to his brother, free of all restraint which my presence might impose. The princes expressed their thanks in the warmest manner; and Prince Prosper remarked that it was well that he should have a private opportunity of telling his brother of the kind and generous manner in which he had been treated, which was of such a nature that, recounted in the presence of an Englishman, it must have the appearance of exaggeration and flattery, and more particularly if told in my presence, who stood first in courtesy and generous conduct. I imbibed the potion and retired to the next room.

Before we continued our route towards Lisbon, Colonel Abercrombie sent me a message from Albuquerque to say that, not being present at what took place with the light company in the late action, it being detached from the battalion, he could not directly recommend me for my conduct on the occasion; but he requested me to forward a memorial of my general services through him, thus giving him an opportunity of giving his testimony to my services throughout. This generous communication I of course acted upon immediately; and I wrote to Lord Lynedoch on the subject, from whom I shortly after received the following letter:—

“Legiora, November 19th, 1811.

“My Dear Blakeney,—I did you all justice, I assure you, before at the Horse Guards, and have just written again to Colonel Torrens to remind him of all I said after Barossa, and to request that he will state my testimony to the Duke of York in aid of your memorial. Excuse this hasty scrawl, And believe me truly yours

“Thomas Graham.

“Lieutenant Blakeney, 28th Foot.”

However flattering such a letter was to me, or must be to any officer however high his rank, when coming from such a person as Lord Lynedoch, yet it is not from motives of vanity that I give it publicity, but rather to reflect its true merit back to the pure fount whence it sprung. Any attempt at eulogy from so humble an individual as myself could add but little to the brilliancy which his splendid achievements throw around Lord Lynedoch. I shall therefore confine myself to saying, in the unsophisticated phrase of an old campaigner, that the zealous officer who willingly and conscientiously discharges his duty, though naked of other patronage or support, will always find in his lordship his most willing supporter and unswerving friend. Here will be seen an officer, high in rank and still higher in reputation, commanding a corps of the most uniformly victorious army which ever graced the military annals of any nation whatever, writing in familiar language to a subaltern officer, showing anxiety for his interests and using every exertion to forward his promotion from no other motive than the belief that he had fully discharged his duties to his king and country to the utmost of his abilities. I had no introduction from influential friends to his lordship, nor had I the honour of his acquaintance previous to the expedition from Tarifa and the occurrences which took place in the battle of Barossa. No doubt generals in high or chief command willingly forward the claims of officers whom they consider deserving while they continue to serve under them; but I am ignorant of any other instance where claims on patronage have been invited and called for, such as in the letter written by Lord Lynedoch to Colonel Browne at Tarifa, requesting the name of any officer of the flank battalion under his command who had distinguished himself at the battle of Barossa. How much more in unison with the genius of Britain and with the spirit of her free and liberal institutions, and how much more nobly is the general employed who, like Lord Lynedoch, diligently and openly seeks through his ranks for objects worthy his protection, than he who indefatigably searches for pretexts for a clandestine representation, generally a misrepresentation! And it is not a little to be wondered at that England, which ever was and ever will be inimical to the introduction of the inquisition in any country, should harbour that wicked and degrading institution throughout every branch of her Service which is smoothly termed “confidential reports,” thus turning the Army in particular, whose constitution is based on the most scrupulous adherence to the highest and nicest principles of honour, into a graduated corps of spies from the ensign up to the general. Great Britain does not reflect that by encouraging these confidential or clandestine reports she is inflicting an insulting and severe censure on the laws and morals of the nation, as not being sufficient to govern by open and legitimate means.

To remove an officer from the Service upon a confidential report is both unjust and impolitic, and answers no good end. It is but natural to suppose that when a senior officer accuses a junior by means of clandestine reports, with the hope of having him removed from the Service without trial, that this dark mode of procedure arises from inadequacy of matter to bear him out, or for reasons still darker than the foul means adopted. But supposing even that it should be made evident to His Majesty that the officer so reported is unworthy of continuing in the Service, is it politic to remove him from it without assigning a cause or making his delinquency public? When a robber or even murderer is executed, it is not from a vindictive motive, it takes place as a dreadful warning to deter others from committing a similar crime; therefore due punishment cannot be made too public, or its imperative necessity too strongly impressed on the minds of the people. The injustice of these secret proceedings was clearly shown at Malta in 1821, at which time I was quartered there. A commanding officer in the garrison so blackened the characters of a large portion of his officers through confidential reports that it was determined to have the greater number of them removed from the Service. This was discovered by means of a lady of the regiment, who carelessly said to another that she would soon see the junior captain become the senior; this being repeated soon became known throughout the corps, when the officers fortunately arrived at the true cause of the threatened removal. Consequently, and very naturally, they spoke openly. To avert the evil they asserted that tyranny, oppression and falsehood had been used towards them. This coming to the knowledge of the commanding general, Sir Thomas Maitland, he ordered a court of inquiry. He clearly stated that from the reports which he had received from the commanding officer he had intended to recommend that many officers of the regiment should be removed from the Service; but in consequence of its coming to his knowledge that the commanding officer was far from immaculate, and that oppression or unfounded reports might have been resorted to, he thus gave the officers an opportunity not only to exonerate themselves from the charges alleged against them, but also to declare their grievances. What was the consequence? One subaltern was brought to court-martial by the commanding officer and was acquitted; but the commanding officer was brought to trial upon two-and-twenty grave charges, on one-and-twenty of which he was found guilty, and as a matter of course publicly dismissed the Service.

So much for confidential reports. Who can count the number of high-spirited noble and gallant youths who have fallen victims, or whose prospects have been blasted through this dastardly mode of proceeding? It is the noble-minded and high-spirited alone who call for protection against such an iniquitous system; the fawning and servile are sure to escape, and not unfrequently with rewards. The duties of a commanding officer are manifold; and he who does not execute them with temperance, justice and impartiality is not for that responsible post.

I had the good fortune of being intimately acquainted with that gallant and sterling soldier, General Ross, who should be held up as a model for commanding officers of regiments. He at once was the father and brother of every officer in his corps, and was on the most familiar and intimate terms with every officer down to the junior ensign; yet none ever dared or attempted to take the slightest liberty which could be considered, even by the severest martinet, as derogatory in the slightest degree to the respect due to the commanding officer or injurious to the maintenance of the strictest discipline. The respect entertained by all for Colonel Ross was entirely matter of sentiment and good feeling. The lively, though sometimes imprudent sallies of a glowing mind were by him rather laughed away than harshly or even seriously chided; the feelings of a gentleman were never wounded in cooling the fervid ebullitions of youth. He felt fully sensible that the military laws, as sanctioned by his country, were sufficient for the ends desired, and therefore never resorted to the cowardly subterfuge of stabbing in the dark by means of clandestine reports, which are never resorted to except by those who from meanness of capacity or want of resolution shudder at a fearless and open discharge of their duty, or whose vicious and vindictive natures induce them to strike the deadly blow unseen. Such a liberal and just commanding officer did exist, I know, in the person of the late General Ross when commanding the 20th Regiment; and such a commanding officer does exist, I have been told, in the person of Sir Edward Blakeney, commanding the Royal Fusiliers.