Lisbon, Cintra, Mafra, etc., 1811, 1812—Second trip to the Army—Taking of Badajoz.

I spent the remainder of the year in the Tagus, making, when duty permitted, excursions up that river to some of the small islands, near Alhandra, where we used to find snipe, quail, and other wild fowl. Sometimes we landed on the south side of the Tagus, to shoot red-legged partridges and woodcocks, which we occasionally met with near the Prince’s Quinta. But the most delightful place for snipe and wild fowl was Loares, on the road towards Torres Vedras: the swamps being there alive with various kinds of them, and amongst others, bittern, kites, hawks, and I have seen, now and then, an osprey.

In March, 1812, I made a very pleasant excursion to Cintra, Mafra, and Colares, with the present Lord By——, and some other officers of the Barfleur. On our road, we went to see the palace of Calous, where, in some of the rooms are, very well painted, the whole of the adventures of Don Quixote.

Cintra, fifteen miles distant from Lisbon, is situated on the north-east side of the rock. It is certainly one of the most romantic places I have seen, and commands an extensive and beautiful view of the country and of the sea. The buildings most worthy of observation are: first, the Penia convent, rising from the rock of Lisbon; it is about three hundred and twenty years’ old, and is tenanted by three monks. From hence is a fine prospect, comprising Cape Espichel, Peniche, and the Burling islands. Another convent, called the Cork, from its being lined with that wood, built also on the rock, and having fifteen monks for its inmates, next attracts attention. This was founded about three hundred years ago. Beyond, on an extreme point of the rock, are the ruins of a Moorish castle, mosque, prison, and baths: the latter supposed by some to be of Roman origin. The Marquess of Marialva’s palace, where the convention was signed, is very fine, and pleasantly situated.

Rising amongst rocks, and embosomed in orange, lemon, and pomegranate trees, Penia Verde must not pass unnoticed. Its original possessor, Don Juan de Castro, who died A. D. 1723, and whose remains, at his request, were interred in a particular spot in the garden, discovered much of the interior of Brazil: besides being of great use to the Government in several important matters. On his return to Lisbon he petitioned for a pension, which being most ungratefully refused, he so willed his property and possessions as to prevent them in any way benefiting his country, which had turned a deaf ear to his claims for compensation for the services he had rendered her. This fact our guide adduced as a reason for the grounds being found in their wild and neglected condition.

The king’s palace, an old gloomy edifice, did not much take my fancy. What most struck me there was a shower-bath, lined with white marble, or, perhaps, pantiles, and which, on turning a pipe, throws the water in all directions. It not unfrequently happened that visitors were taught a practical lesson of its powers. It used to be a joke to get them to step into the bath room, the machinery was put in motion, and they underwent a good drenching as the reward of their curiosity.

The prince’s palace of Romalyan I thought pretty, and its situation, looking towards Lisbon and the sea, quite delightful. The Marquis of Marialva has other gardens than those adjoining his palace, which we went to see, on account of the figures they contain; amongst them are shoemakers, and an old woman spinning, all as large as life; by touching some wires they are set in motion and immediately begin their work.

We one day rode to the village of Colares, prettily situated near the sea, and famous for its wine, which is so excellent that I am surprised it is not more frequently met with in England; it is something in flavour between claret and burgundy.

In the garden of a Signor Tomazine, at the above place, is a mineral spring, but I am ignorant of its qualities. Would not this afford a capital speculation to an M.D. Let me advise one to analyse the spring, rent it—write a pamphlet upon its good qualities—recommend it strongly for the cure of all kinds of complaints, particularly consumptions and pulmonary affections. The fine beautiful air of Cintra, and its romantic scenery he could always call in to his aid as a good and faithful ally in all extreme cases; and when he occasionally failed, he might say the case was desperate, and the patient’s time was come. With the assistance above mentioned, he would be sure to effect some cures, and make his fortune; steam vessels would bring him patients and friends to attend them, some of the latter would probably in time fall sick, and, therefore, he might justly calculate upon getting a few of them also on his books as patients. I hope, should any medical gentleman take this hint, he will remember me gratefully in his will, for depend upon it, the speculation will answer much better than many of the railroads.

Before leaving Cintra, on our return to Lisbon, we made an excursion to Mafra to see an eminent building, containing, besides a convent and church, a palace for the king, and another for the queen. I believe that, with the exception of the Escurial in Spain, this is the largest pile of building in Europe. I was told that in one quadrangle alone, the French, previous to the convention, had quartered 15,000 men. From the roof is a fine view of the country for many miles. There is also a topada, or park, of some extent, belonging to it. From the church rises a dome, something like that of St. Paul’s in London. There are likewise two steeples. The interior, which contains some good paintings, and several pieces of sculpture in alto-relief, on scriptural subjects, is well worth inspection. These were executed at Rome, and showed the hand of a great master. There are also statues of all the saints, in white marble. Its six organs are considered very fine, and according to the padres, the Mafra ring of bells is the best in the world. This palace, at the time we saw it, was the depÔt for the formation of the Portuguese army.

I have not dwelt much on Lisbon, a city so generally known, that to notice its public buildings, aqueduct, etc., would be superfluous in a narrative like the present. We had a few slight shocks of an earthquake during the time I was there, which created a little alarm, and caused all the church bells to be set ringing for the people to come to mass.

On the 16th of March I had permission to accompany my brother to his regiment, which was then at OlivenÇa, in Spain, covering the siege of Badajoz. Our route to the army was the same as before, through the Alemtejo to Elvas; we crossed the river Guadiana by the ford of Xerumaha to OlivenÇa, in Estramadura, where the regiment remained until the 4th of April.

Marshal Soult having advanced towards Badajoz to try and raise the siege, the cavalry, both heavy and light, were sent forward as far as Villaloa, Almandralajo, and Villa Franca, to oppose him; some brigades of infantry occupying Albuera on nearly the same spot where Lord Beresford fought the battle.

I remained behind to see the siege, and pay a visit to my old friends of the 7th Fusiliers, with a Captain Daniel Capel, of the 14th. On the 5th of April I went with them to look at the breaching batteries, and to visit an old acquaintance, who had been wounded the day before by a musket-ball through the side, while doing duty as an engineer in the trenches. Poor fellow! he was afterwards killed on the Pyrenees by lightning; he belonged to the 37th Regiment. I spent a very pleasant day with the Fusiliers, but it was doomed alas! to be the last with several of my gallant friends, and amongst others, poor Saint Pol, who the next night was mortally wounded at the storming of the large breach.

On my return, late in the evening, to my quarters at OlivenÇa, what with the haze in my head, occasioned by wine, the foggy state of the evening, the smoke from the fire of the different batteries, the captain of dragoons and myself lost each other, and our way. By mistake my horse, who had been taken from the enemy, took the wrong road, and instead of going to the left, towards a ford that we had to cross at some distance in rear of the camp, he chose to take me to the foot of the bridge leading to Badajoz, where the enemy had a cavalry picket; fortunately for me, we had a strong covering party of the 43rd Regiment lying down on the ground. Being unable to give the countersign, these were going to shoot me for a French officer. They seized my steed, and knocked me off his back with the butt end of a musket. I was dragged on the ground back to the camp, where I had to encounter the jokes of my friends, softened it is true by sincere congratulations on my escape. My horse, whose head had been turned from Badajoz, got loose, and managed to find his way back to OlivenÇa, where I was lucky enough to find him the next day; for sometimes lost horses were borrowed to carry baggage, commissary stores, or other articles, and they undergoing various metamorphoses, such as cropping the ears and tails, with other little changes in their appearances, the lawful owners could with great difficulty recognise their own steeds.

These slight-of-hand tricks used occasionally to be played; and with an army consisting of so many thousand troops, composed of various nations, and covering a vast extent of country, it was not a very easy matter to trace a lost animal, whether horse, mule, or donkey.

On the evening of the 6th, Badajoz was stormed and taken. No other troops in the world could have carried a citadel so strong, and so manfully defended; they behaved most nobly, in spite of death and destruction, which were dealt around with no sparing hand.

Our army was indeed a gallant band of warriors, such as we shall never see again; such as the world probably will never again produce.

Having rejoined the 14th Dragoons at Valverde, I proceeded with them to the several towns of Almendrab, Santa Martha, Villalva, Villa Franca, Fuente de Meastro, Rebeiro, and nearly to Usagre. Marshal Soult pushed forward his cavalry, and some outpost skirmishing took place. Near Villa Franca, the 12th, 14th, and 16th Light Dragoons, with six regiments of heavy horse, having joined and drawn up, we expected a general cavalry action. It passed over, however, with some skirmishing in front with a numerous body of the enemy’s dragoons, who manoeuvred to cover the retreat of their army.

I recollect one of Soult’s scouts, a Spaniard, being taken by a patrol of the 14th Dragoons. This fellow was observed stealing, under cover of night, in the direction of our pickets, when he was seized and brought in. Being threatened with instant death unless he gave up his despatch, he fell on his knees and implored for mercy, directing the officer to cut the third leather button from his coat, when he would find what he demanded. On taking off the button, a tiny slip of paper was discovered, on which was written these words, “Hold out: I am coming.” I saw this morceau; it was short and to the purpose. It had been sent by the marshal to the governor of Badajoz.

My leave of absence having expired, I was obliged to return towards Lisbon. I had been all day with my brother on the advanced picket, looking at our videttes and those of the French, near Usagre, when, having laid down in my clothes to get a little rest, orders arrived to again advance. No engagement, however, being expected, I was advised to remain where I was for the night, and to set out in the morning on my route for the Tagus.

Next day, whilst quietly retracing my steps thither, a brilliant cavalry affair took place near the above-named town and Llerena, when the French were completely routed, and many prisoners made. I was sorry I had not remained to witness the rencontre, but consoled myself with the reflection that I had probably been saved a broken head, where I should have gained neither credit nor thanks.

The second day after leaving the army I reached Badajoz, and went over the defences of that city, which bore strongly the marks of recent strife. Not the least affecting evidence of mortal affray were the bodies of several of my gallant countrymen floating in the ditch, and which people were employed in removing in order to their being buried. The more I examined the works, the greater my astonishment at the bravery and perseverance of our troops. By one unacquainted with military tactics, time alone would have been pronounced capable of effecting the ruin before him. He could never have conceived it possible that walls so apparently impregnable would have yielded to the force of a besieging army. But for the escalade, indeed, failure had been inevitable where success was now complete, insured as it had been by immense sacrifice of life.

My road from Badajoz lay through OlivenÇa, where I crossed the river Guadiana to Xerumaha, and proceeded thence to Villa Vicosa and San Miguel de Mechada, where I fell in with some French prisoners marching, under a strong escort, to Lisbon. They had formed part of a division, under General Girard, when he was surprised and routed by the gallant Sir Rowland Hill near Miranda.

The fifth day brought me to Evora, where, announcing to the inhabitants glad tidings of victory, I got an excellent billet at the house of a padre, who gave me the best dinner and bed I had had for some time.

Evora, the capital of the Alemtejo, is a fine old town, and has still visible the remains of a Roman wall. Here, too, is the aqueduct, built by the General Sertorius, which is in tolerable repair after the lapse of so many ages. This place is fortified, and contains an episcopal palace.

Time pressing, I set forward the next morning, my friend, the priest, having obtained an order from the Juis de Fori for a muleteer to attend me, and convey my baggage on a mule. The fellow turned rather sulky, so much so that I was obliged to drive him on with my pistol to Vendas Novas, where, after a hot ride of thirty-six miles, I had to sit up all night to guard my baggage and prevent the rascal running away, such I had been informed being his intention the moment I had gone to bed. The window of my room looking into the street, I told my friend that if he attempted to escape I would shoot him on the spot. This had the desired effect, and next morning I proceeded, still driving the Spaniard on before me, to that dirty place, Pegoeus, where, falling in with a party of English soldiers, I gave him in charge to them.

The following day I arrived, after a ride of five hours, at Aldea Galega, where, dismissing my muleteer, who made many humble apologies for his behaviour, I embarked in the ferry-boat, and crossed over to Lisbon. The fellow, it appeared, was fearful of being again pressed at Aldea Galega into the service of the commissaries to carry stores or provisions to the army.

Captain Hood Linze, of H.M.S. Ocean (98), being obliged to invalid on account of a severe wound from the stab of a madman, I was, on the 11th June, 1812, appointed acting commander of H.M.S. Brune.