The whole of the troops being on board, the fleet got under way, from Spithead, with a fine breeze from the E.N.E. and stood down channel for the westward.

The transports fitted up for our reception, were small vessels of such old and crazy materials, that in this wintry season, we did not expect they would long remain sea-worthy. However as we were now commencing the uphill work of a soldier's life, our minds were fully made up to rough it in every sense of the word; and, although appearances were not flattering, our feelings were in unison with the motto on our breast-plate, (quo fata vÓcant) and we were buoyed up with the hopes of a prosperous issue to our undertaking.

Captain Bentley's company, (to which I belonged) was stowed in the brig Alexander; she was an old tub, battered and knocked about by many a gale, and in her look and trim was by no means inviting.

The skipper, Captain Young, a tall, hard-featured seaman, with a countenance well bronzed by exposure to the N.W. wind, was positive and irritable to an extreme degree, and if a landsman presumed to offer any remark, as to the affairs of his beautiful ship, Old Young, was quite indignant.

We were fortunate in getting Bentley for a shipmate, as he was a kind good tempered man, and a lively companion.

The paymaster, John Montgomery, with his wife and family, were also of our party; so that on the whole, we in the Alexander were as well off with respect to society, as any of our neighbours. Montgomery was a plain, good-natured Irishman, fond of social life, and being a man of experience, having spent most of his days in the regiment, he was an acquisition, which ultimately proved valuable to us. His eldest daughter, an animated sensible girl, contributed with two younger sisters to our happiness; and, making due allowance for the state of things around, we had as large a share of enjoyment, (if such a word can be used with reference to being in a ship), as under the circumstances could reasonably be expected.

The fleet was soon clear of the channel, bearing on a S.W. course, under a heavy press of canvass, before a fair wind.—The appearance of the clouds and atmosphere was unfavourable, and the huge unwieldy porpoises, rolling about their shapeless forms, together with the screaming of mother Cary's chickens, were to the experienced mariners certain indications of a coming storm. Their evil prognostics were soon realized; for, on approaching the Bay of Biscay, we were driven and tossed about, by one of the most violent tempests that had occurred for many years.—It began on Christmas day. Resolving to enjoy, though in a humble way, the good cheer of the festive season, we had previously provided for the occasion a fat goose, and other savoury things; but, alas, our promised joys proved deceptive; they all vanished, and were replaced by sorrow and disappointment, for the relentless gale denied all possibility of comfort! Poor blacky, in his caboose, was rendered inconsolable, he being unable to dress the aforesaid goose, as the spray, beating in, had quenched the last spark of his culinary fire. The ship reeled and pitched with such tremendous force, that it was not without some trouble we could discuss the merits of a cold bone of junk with hard biscuit, while we lay sprawling and floundering on the wretched cabin floor. The dead-lights having been previously fixed to the stern windows, there remained but the flickering and moody glare of a yellow dirty looking luminary, y'clept a lamp, which, as it swung from the sky-light grating, afforded a glimmering just sufficient to make darkness visible, and disclose to our visual organs a scene emphatically dismal.

Such was the commencement of our calamitous voyage, and in this way did we get on, from bad to worse, each day more woeful than the preceding; until at length, after beating about this Bay of Misery, against a strong head sea, and with a hurricane in our teeth, it was thought advisable to fight no longer with the elements; the signal was therefore made from the Commodore, to tack about, and make sail for England.—Obeying this welcome signal with alacrity, we found ourselves going homewards before the wind, at the rate of from ten to twelve knots an hour, after having been exposed to its dreadful violence for the space of ten days, in the most terrific sea that any unfortunate bark had ever ploughed.

At this time, as we looked across the foaming waste, the view was wild and dreary; amidst the atmosphere of darkness, clouds and mist, the scattered vessels might be occasionally discerned, as the fog dispersed, tossed about at the merciless fury of the waves; some dismantled, others on their beam ends. The wrecks of those that unhappily had foundered were floating here and there, while the loud and fearful moaning of the tempest increased the horrors of the scene.

After five days of rapid sailing, the Alexander, with a few more ships, arrived at Plymouth. The remainder of the convoy took refuge in various harbours, along the coast, and by the 5th of January they were all safe at anchor, in the several ports which with so much difficulty they made. On the 15th we sailed for Falmouth, when permission was granted for the men to land in detachments, in order that they might stretch their limbs after their long confinement3.

The weather having at length become settled, the fleet again got under way, and, with a fine steady breeze from the East, soon cleared the Lizard. Steering towards our friend old Biscay, of blustrous memory, we speedily lost sight of the shores of Britain; but in a state of circumstances far more auspicious than those under which we first commenced our unfortunate career.

After a prosperous and very delightful voyage of seventeen days, during which we had favourable and pleasant weather, we came to anchor in the Bay of Gibraltar, when the troops were disembarked, and occupied the barracks at Europa point, on the southern extremity of the fortress.

The transport containing the flank companies and head quarters, under Colonel Walker, had missed the convoy in the heavy gales of January, and bore away to the Southward. After being driven about the Mediterranean for some weeks, it was compelled to put into the harbour of Messina, where it continued till intelligence was received of our arrival at the rock. In a little time it joined us, and the regiment was again re-assembled, and prepared for any service.

During our brief sojourn in this extraordinary place, which is too well known to need any description here, we found many things to interest us after the monotony of a voyage. The great number of strange and curious looking personages, who figured in the streets, with their varied, many-coloured, and grotesque costumes, made the town appear as if there was a carnival or masquerade going forward, and produced a very gay and ludicrous effect. There is, however, a heavy drawback to the mirth which this motley population is calculated to excite. The close suffocating atmosphere, the filthy state of the houses, and other local circumstances, promote the reception of those unwelcome visitors, plague, cholera, and yellow fever; which are still further encouraged, if not engendered, by the uncleanly habits, and abominable customs of the Turks, Jews, and other outlandish residents of the town.

The Library, containing a numerous and splendid collection of books in every language, forms a delightful source of amusement, as well as profitable employment, to the officers, civil and military, who may be stationed in the garrison.—Over the library is a magnificent ball-room in which at all times there is a pretty good display of the young and fair4 rock-scorpions, together with passing visitors, and warlike heroes, who have assembled to dispel that ennui which might otherwise pervade their leisure hours.

The weather was excessively hot, the oppressive closeness of the air, being increased by the reflection, from the rock, of a burning sun. Were this not tempered by the occasional breeze, wafted from the Mediterranean, the climate would be insufferable: tormented by flies, mosquitos, and other insects, we had but little rest day or night, and but for the constant occupation of the mind, combined with the excitement caused by the variety and novelty of all about us, our situation would have been any thing but agreeable in such a place, which it would almost require the nature of a salamander to endure; a nature not to be obtained except by the seasoning of a very long residence.

Mounting guard one day at the New mole head, I was a witness of an extraordinary interview which chanced to occur. Lieut. Frederick Baron Meard, an old subaltern of the 50th, was upon the same duty, and, being the senior, he turned out the guard to receive the visiting field officer, then Major Wood, of the 32nd regiment; to his great surprise the Major recognized Meard as the same individual who, some years before, when in the West Indies, was the field officer of the day, to whom the main guard presented arms, when he, (Major Wood), commanded it, being at that period a Lieutenant in the 32nd.

To what corps Meard then belonged, I do not recollect, but his having sold out and again commenced his military career, will account for what may seem one of those strange vicissitudes to which men of the military profession are liable.—Meard exchanged, while we lay at Gibraltar, into a regiment in the West Indies, and soon after fell a victim to the effects of that baneful climate. Major Cholmondly Overend also returned from the Regiment at this place, having sold his commission, and returned to England. Overend was a Yorkshireman, advanced in years, and decidedly of the old school. Erect in stature, and well made, with a good military expression, he retained still enough to show that in his younger days, he must have been a handsome man. Whether he is now in the land of the living I am unable to say. The 50th, previous to the arrival of Colonel Walker, was under the command of Major Charles Hill; of whom, as he was our leader throughout a good part of the Peninsular War, I shall hereafter have something more to relate.

On the 13th of May, 1808, the Expedition, under the orders of Lieutenant General Sir Brent Spencer, sailed from the Bay of Gibraltar, and on the following day arrived off Cadiz, where the fleet remained till the 13th of June, from which period to the 27th of the same month, it was cruizing about between Cape St. Vincent, Ayamonte and Trafalgar point; this being the second time of its visiting the coast in that quarter. Being appointed to do duty in Captain Armstrong's Company, I embarked with that officer, together with Ensign John Atkinson, and Quarter-Master Benjamin Baxter, on board of a fine well-built transport, called the Rosina. Our voyage was passed in a dull and listless manner, solely occupied as we were, for above six weeks, in sailing along the coasts of Algarve and Andalusia, and remaining in total ignorance of our final destination.—We were becalmed for days under a broiling sun, occasionally running short of water, and fresh provisions; and our state of uncertainty, as well as hope deferred, was enough to exhaust the patience of the most enduring mortals. Whenever the wind was favourable, or that we stood in close to the land, the natives approached the ship, with boats well laden with various articles, in the welcome shape of fruit, vegetables, or fish, which they gladly disposed of at a moderate rate. These might well be called luxuries, and formed an excellent accompaniment to our salt junk, upon which we had been stall-fed so abundantly that, for some time past, we had seldom any thing else for either breakfast, dinner, or supper. Had it not been for Captain Armstrong, I know not how we should have contrived to support a mode of existence, or rather of vegetation, which was so thoroughly wearisome. Fortunately he was an amusing companion, full of drollery and comic humour, and had, moreover, a fund of good songs, so that he kept us all alive.

Hostilities between England and Spain having ceased, in consequence of the invasion of the latter country by the French, preparations were made, in the most vigorous manner, to co-operate with the Spanish and Portuguese forces; and the British troops were accordingly held in readiness to disembark on any part of the Peninsula to which they might be ordered. General Spencer's Expedition, which was now destined for immediate active service, composed a portion of that army which first obtained a footing on the shores of Portugal, and which, eventually, under the illustrious Wellington, performed such glorious achievements in the field, driving the French Eagles before them, and bearing the victorious colours of Britain from Lisbon to Toulouse.

Soon after we arrived off the road of Cadiz, the French fleet, lying at anchor under the town, was summoned to surrender to the Spanish flag. This request not being complied with, the natural result was a general attack, made by the artillery on their shipping. The enemy was resolved to maintain his quarters as long as he could fire a shot, and therefore returned the salute, with all the heavy metal he could bring to bear against the works, sending in a broadside, with such tremendous effect as to rattle the tiled roofs about their ears and otherwise deface the beauty of their buildings.

Lying so far in the offing, we could see nothing but a thick cloud of smoke, rising above the calm surface of the bay;5 the exhibition going forward behind this curtain, was completely hidden from our view. The cannonade, however, was audible enough, and its music sadly tantalized our seamen in the fleet, who burned to lend a hand in an affair which was so much to their taste. They had, nevertheless, quite sufficient to employ their time, having to keep a pretty sharp look out, in order to prevent the smallest craft of the adverse squadron from slipping through their fingers.

Throughout the whole of the day, a heavy fire was kept up against the French vessels by the garrison, whose long continued volleys echoed from the harbour. Compelled, at length, to strike their colours, the French surrendered to the Dons, who, sheltered by their solid masonry, had endured but trifling loss, and were entitled to no particular praise for any bravery they might have manifested behind their bulwarks.

On the 4th of July we got under way, and, sailing well up the harbour, came to anchor a short distance from the Mole head, the ships of war being moored across the entrance. The men were not permitted to land; but the Officers had leave to pass a few hours on shore every day, and within that limited space we were busy enough making a tour of inspection, prying into every street, lane, and alley, not in search of the picturesque, but of any thing else, that might lie in our way, deserving notice from inquisitive travellers.

Cadiz is delightfully situated upon an islet, separated from the main land by a narrow strait. It appeared a paradise to us, after the long imprisonment we had suffered, from the time we left Gibraltar. The citizens were highly gratified on seeing the English Officers, and used every means in their power to evince their friendship and good will, inviting us to their houses and entertaining us with liberality and kindness. In the course of a few days the transports containing the 50th were anchored near Port St. Mary's, a considerable town on the opposite shore. Here the regiment was landed, and, after remaining for one week, was again embarked. The fleet sailed on the 22nd, and we steered once more towards Cape St. Vincent. Portugal was our destination.

Before we left St. Mary's, I was removed to Captain Coote's company, with which I went on board the Britannia, Captain Clarke. The other officers of the cabin were Major Hill, Lieut. Birchall, Ensign Atkinson, and Assistant Surgeon Coulson, who formed a pleasant, convivial party, among whom good fellowship and social harmony prevailed.