CHAPTER IV.

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March to Santarem and Abrantes—Scenery and incidents at Aronches—Junction with some other regiments—Military scene in a wood—Anticipatory reflections on the fate of some of the author's comrades—Quarters at Portalagre, Castello de Vida and Marvao—Bridge of boats across the Tagus—Contiguous scenery—Horrors of travelling for invalids in the Portuguese cars.

Our animals and baggage having joined us the next day, we took the road towards Santarem, and about dusk reached the causeway leading up a steep hill into the town, where the French, previously to their retreat under Marshal the Prince of Essling11, had thrown the dead from their hospitals into the wells,—the idea of which caused such horrible thoughts, that we could scarcely summon up sufficient resolution to drink while at that place.

The excessive heat of the following day having somewhat subsided, towards the cool of the evening we began our march, but, by some unaccountable accident, took the wrong road for upwards of a league before the mistake was found out. Retreading our steps, we at length regained the identical spot from whence we had previously started nearly three hours before; glancing my eye towards the battlements of the town, a smile prophetic passed my countenance, that I should not again behold its turrets. Turning our backs, and pursuing the right road, we gaily tramped along toward Golegam; and, as the morning dawned, I was loudly knocking for admittance at the door of a small house, on the confines of the church-yard, that was strewed with skulls which had been torn from the sepulchres and graves, in search of gold, by the French soldiery.

After the usual halt we pursued our march through Punhete to Abrantes, where two of us were nearly carried away amongst the quicksands, while bathing in the river Tagus, and only reached the shore by making the greatest efforts. Various individuals had been drowned at this place by the current.

Having halted here one whole day, we crossed over the bridge of boats to the southern province of the Alentejo, and entered Gaviao, where I was billeted in a very poor house. At night I entered a recess, much fatigued, and, upon quitting the mattrass in the morning, the bugs had made such a feast on my right leg from the hip to the very sole of my foot, so that I could scarcely walk, and was in a most dreadful state of irritation.

Passing onwards in our march, on the ninth day, we ascended a high hill on the summit of which stood Aronches, commanding an extensive prospect over a diversified sandy country, intersected with forests, vineyards, rocks, and small fields of Indian corn, and encompassed by dilapidated walls formed of loose stones carelessly heaped one on another without mortar. The streets of the town were narrow, and almost deserted, with huge shapeless rocks at every few yards, rearing their heads, and blocking up the way, whilst a solitary Portuguese was seen striking an old battered guitar with all his fingers (as on a tambourine) and hallooing forth some ditty loud enough to be heard in the distant valleys. The heat of the day was quite overpowering, the firmament was of heavenly blue, while the sun shone forth in full splendour, forcing us to retire to some shady spot from its scorching rays, and to take some repose after the fatigues of the march.

Towards the close of the evening we again stood on the ramparts to inhale the cool and delicious air. The shades of night had scarcely hidden the face of the country from our view, when the moon, rising in all her grandeur, threw a pale light around, and tipped with silver the battlements of those venerable towers built by the Moors, which for centuries had endured, and had frowned defiance on the flitting shadows of many generations, gliding by their grey walls unheeded and forgotten. As we gazed in sweet contemplation on the surrounding scenery, all nature seemed hushed, and the universe sunk into slumber, when suddenly the bell of a monastery close at hand tolled loudly, and in the gentle breeze, at intervals, we heard the solemn dirge of a religious procession, which, by degrees, arose on the ear, and gradually encreasing became louder, and swelled into such an awful bass strain, as one might conceive to inspire reflection in the firm, horrors in the nervous, and all the terrors of purgatory in the dying. The long procession of monks passed us, wrapped in their sombre drapery, as if they had emerged from the very bowels of the earth. The scene was impressive. After we had retired, my slumbers were disturbed by the horrors of the nightmare; and, when the merry rays of the sun sparkled in at the windows the next morning, I felt as if delivered out of some dungeon, longed for the camp, and hoped that, should fate cut short my career, the sun and moon might alternately throw their rays over my expiring body, rather than that I should die a lingering death, surrounded by wax tapers and priest-craft, and then buried in satin and gold, and finally extinguished by a basket of quick lime.

On the 20th of July we descended into the valley, and, at the edge of a wood, awaited the coming of the division, from an advanced camp on their way to Castello de Vida. Every eye was on the stretch, and in the distance we descried a cloud of dust rolling towards us, the bright sparkling rays of the sun-beams playing on the soldiers' breast plates, when suddenly the leading regiment of the light division burst forth; their bronzed countenances and light knapsacks, and their order of march, all united to inspire a conviction that their early discipline had not only been maintained amidst privations, battles and camps, but had become matured by experience. They had traversed mountains, and forded rivers; the grim and icy hand of death had grasped many in the unhealthy marshes of the Alentejo, and with sure effect had scattered balls amidst their ranks without distinction: yet the remainder of these veterans were still bent onwards, to gather fresh laurels in the rugged and uncertain paths of fortune. Seven regiments of light infantry and riflemen defiled before us with their thread-bare jackets, their brawny necks loosened from their stocks, their wide and patched trowsers of various colours, and brown-barrelled arms slung over their shoulders, or carelessly held in their hands, whilst a joyous buzz ran through the cross-belted ranks, as their soldier-like faces glanced towards us to greet many of their old comrades now about to join in their arduous toils after a long separation. A cloud of dust alone marked their further progress as they receded from our view. Following in succession, we brought up the rear. At the expiration of an hour's march, we entered a wood, formed column, called the roll, and the whole division was then dismissed. The assembled multitude of voices, the tearing and cutting down of branches of trees, crackling of fires, rattling of canteens, shooting of bullocks through the head, and the hurrying of parties of soldiers for rum and biscuit for rations, the neighing of horses, braying asses and rampant mules, all resounded throughout the forest, giving new life and merry echoes to its most intimate recesses. Groups of officers stood in circles; every countenance seemed decked in smiles, and a hearty welcome greeted us from all hands.

Under the wide-spreading branches of a venerable cork-tree, decorated with pack-saddles, accoutrements, and other military trappings, dinner was served up and laid out on a pair of hampers, which served us instead of a table. Beef, biscuit, tea, rum, and wine, composed our fare, it being a usual custom to join breakfast and dinner, so as to make one meal serve for the twenty-four hours, the troops merely halting to cook and refresh themselves during the heat of the day. A more happy meal, I can safely say, I never partook of; and with infinite admiration did I regard the purple jackets and battered epaulettes of my companions. Our small keg of wine being emptied, the word passed to pack up and accoutre; and, in an incredibly short space of time, the column re-formed. The "assembly" sounded (the signal of march) threes, from the right of companies, the bands struck up, and at the end of two hours' march, and towards nightfall, we entered another wood. The same ceremony gone through as already described, the blankets were spread out, the earth our bed, knapsacks our pillows, and the overhanging trees our canopy; the busy hum of life no longer vibrated through the bivouac, and thousands of soldiers slumbered and reposed their weary limbs, lying scattered throughout the forest, or around the dying embers of expiring fires. My companions insisted on stretching themselves on each side of me, protesting that they ought to do thus, as a protection against cold for the first two or three nights, since a very heavy dew fell, so as almost to wet through the blankets, notwithstanding the great heat of the weather by day. For some time I was unable to close my eyes, owing to some insects flocking up my legs in swarms, and creating much irritation.

Let us, for a moment, withdraw the veil of futurity, and make a few anticipations. On my right tranquilly slumbers a youthful warrior of sixteen years old, and on my left unconsciously sleeps the other, one year older. Lieutenant E. Freer is doomed to undergo two more years of the toils of war, to suffer sickness and privation, and, at the sanguinary assault of Badajoz, to receive a severe wound in the upper part of the thigh; and lastly, at the age of nineteen, while in the Pyrenees, a ball passes through his right arm, and enters his side: he staggers, utters three words, and falls a lifeless corpse amid those dreary regions!

Lieutenant J. Considine, at the assault of Badajoz, receives a ball through his body, and, stretched on the damp sod, enveloped in darkness, bleeds inwardly. A light is held over his pale face, and discovers the blood flowing from his mouth. Borne, however, to a place of security, he recovers. The next year he is tormented by a malignant fever, and afterwards, on the highest pinnacle of the Pyrenees, a ball strikes him; his thigh-bone is broken near the hip: he cries for help. I look down: he lies prostrate between my legs. The balls carry death and destruction around: we are under the walls storming a fort, and fighting hand to hand. Four soldiers attempt to carry him off, and, not being aware of the place of his wound, hoist him up, and turn his left foot outwards over his shoulder; by which means the thigh-bone is completely broken asunder. His screams are dreadful, and two of the soldiers fall dead, pierced with balls. The battle ended, he is carried to a place of security, where he eventually recovers!—and he now commands the 53d regiment.

Early the next morning we were again on the road. The martial music struck up, and continued to play for a short distance: the word passed to march at ease: conversation then commenced. The soldiers lighted their pipes; and, before the sun had reached its meridian, we filed into Portalegre. The streets were marked off, in the first instance, for different corps; then the houses, again, subdivided amongst officers and soldiers; the latter portioned off according to the size of the different dwellings; the butt ends of the soldiers' firelocks serving as knockers, to rouse the sulky inmates, who would fain plead ignorance of the arrival of so many guests. It was by no means an uncommon occurrence for owners of houses to try all kinds of expedients, by absence, paltry excuses, or otherwise, to drive away the tired officers in disgust, who presented billets of lodgement. One day, an officer on the staff had patiently waited some time at a door without being able to gain admittance, until at length the patron walked up from the street and feigned civility, making a low bow, and saying to the officer, "Senhor, I have no key;" when the officer returned his salute, coolly lifted up his long leg, and applied it to the door with such force that it flew open at the first blow—then turning to the astonished Portuguese, said "Senhor, tiengo bon chave"12, and at a slow march and with clanking sabre, took possession of the house. From that day he was known by the appellation of Bon chave throughout the army.

Another division entered the town the same day. The army was composed of eight divisions of infantry, besides cavalry and artillery; the former force was known throughout the army by the following familiar appellations: "the gentlemen's sons," "the surprisers," "the fighting division," "the supporters," "the invisibles," "the never heard of," "the all-sorts," and "the division:" but, before the end of this most sanguinary war, they all fought again and again, covering themselves with fame and lasting glory.

The following day we proceeded to Castello de Vida, an ancient fortified place within a league of Marvao. The first brigade entered the town, and the second bivouacked in a grove without its walls. The adjacent country presented a wild appearance; but more particularly the latter town, which was perched on a rugged and stupendous mountain, inaccessible on every side, save only one approach, and even that impracticable for carriages, the road winding under the overhanging shelving of rocks, others of which reared their rugged points in the very middle of this (hardly to be so termed) pathway. A party of us with difficulty ascended to this strange place, at a season of the year when every particle of vegetation is parched and dried up. The adjacent grey precipices presented a frightful wilderness,—the hiding-place of innumerable wolves. The mind of the beholder on surveying such a prospect became perplexed how so barren a spot, even at the remotest period of antiquity, should have been fixed on for any human habitation, far more for a fortification. Some cannon of ancient construction were still on the ramparts, but few mounted, and even the carriages of those mouldering to decay. Here and there a few miserable Portuguese were observed basking in a sunny corner, grouped and huddled together, and consisting of young and old women with dark countenances, and still darker tresses, enveloped in shabby blue cloth cloaks, and extracting piochos from each other's heads; that occupation being the greatest source of delight and amusement amongst them. Their general food consisted of roasted chesnuts, washed down with cold spring water—which caused their teeth to decay at a very early age; and when they could procure a little dried fish, or sardines, with black sour bread, they would consider it a point of luxury. The extreme heat of the weather, and the exertions that we had used to reach this spot, created excessive thirst; looking round, therefore, in search of a house of entertainment, we espied a leafless branch of a tree suspended over a doorway, which bespoke the object of our search. On our entering and demanding wine, the corner of a pig-skin was untied, out of which spouted the wine into a filthy measure. It was strongly impregnated with the taste of the skin, about milk warm, and exceedingly thick, owing to its having been recently removed from a mule's back. These animals are usually loaded with two dried pig-skins, sewed up and slung across a pack saddle for the conveyance of wine from one place to the other—the muleteer being astride in the middle, and, above all, singing a wild air, and beating time with his heels against the bags.

Quitting this isolated place, and returning to our quarters, we remained there two or three days, and then resumed our march towards the northern frontier. The first night we halted in a wood near Niza. The next morning, an hour before day light, we started; and, while passing over the summit of a high hill, as the morning dawned, we observed a thick mist overspreading an extensive valley. As the sun rose, its refulgent light pierced through the white fog, which resembled a beautiful floating sea, out of which peeped forth the tops of hills covered with investing shrubs. As the rolling mist passed away, so these apparent islands enlarged, until nothing of this enchanting illusion remained, except a bare country covered with gum cistus, (a small tree,) producing a most sickly smell, and the more particularly to those with empty stomachs. After a fatiguing weary march, half suffocated by heat, added to which our eyes, nose, and mouth, were filled with sand, we descended the pass of Villa Velha, where we observed a number of vultures perched on the pinnacles of inaccessible rocks, as if watching our motions, or waiting in anticipation of more devoted victims.

Crossing the Tagus by the bridge of boats, we bivouacked under the agreeable shade of an olive grove. The surrounding scenery presented every where a beautiful, romantic, and grand spectacle; the river foamed over the rocks that had fallen into its dark stream from the overhanging crags. The narrow road running at the base of the adjacent mountains was filled with loose stones; woe, therefore, to the sore-footed soldier who happened to stumble amongst them! Woe to the sick or wounded to whose lot it fell to be placed in those Portuguese cars, rudely constructed, with small solid wooden wheels, revolving on an unoiled axletree, and causing an indescribable creeking noise to be heard at a very considerable distance; sounds so horrible, that the bigotted peasantry declare they frighten away the evil spirit of Old Nick himself!

The jolting of these vehicles frequently tore off the plasters, and ripped open anew the wounds of the suffering soldiers; nor was it at all unusual to behold the sick, wounded, and dying, with pallid countenances expressive of unheard-of agonies, while these engines of torture, drawn by a pair of bullocks, with their heads thrust under a shapeless piece of wood, (for the purpose of yoking them together,) rolled on their heavy way. The conductor guided them with a long pole, with a piece of pointed iron at the end of it, which he poked into the beasts' necks, and directed them by such sort of "sharp practice."

11 Massena.12 A jargon mixture of the Portuguese, Spanish, and French languages was frequently resorted to in our anxiety to make ourselves understood by the natives, and when one word failed another was substituted. An officer who had just entered the country was most anxious to procure an egg, and having failed to make himself understood, as a last resource, he cut a piece of pipe-clay into the shape of an egg, and was instantly supplied.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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