Letter No. X

To his Parents, from Lisbon, dated 11th January 1811

Journal—20th January-25th March 1811

Letter No. XI

To his Parents, from Mello, dated 26th March 1811

Letter No. X

Lisbon, 16th January 1811.

My dear Parents—I embrace this opportunity of writing you by a friend of mine who is compelled to come to England for the recovery of his health, being rendered incapable of further service for some time, having two severe wounds.

I find the rest and comforts I have been able to procure here have brought me round much sooner than I had any idea of. Shelter from the inclemency of the weather and a warm bed have done wonders. I am now as anxious as ever to return to my regiment and share in its glorious achievements. I am sorry to observe my leg is very little better. I shall limp for life. Every change of weather affects me most materially. I hope time will in some measure eradicate these symptoms, though I am too well acquainted with the injury my thigh has sustained ever to expect recovery.

The Colonel of my regiment has been obliged to come to Lisbon for the benefit of his health. He has nearly recovered. I have at all times experienced the greatest friendship from him. I dine often with him. He had a great wish for me to live with him, thinking he might soon recover, but not being able to procure a billet for us both immediately, he would not inconvenience me by taking me from a good one. In the meantime he recovered. I have always been fortunate in gaining the esteem of my superior officers, and I am confident my Colonel will as soon as possible do something for me. I have at this time an idea of soon procuring a higher place.

I meant to purchase numbers of articles while in Lisbon. I must curtail my inclinations, having been at great expense since I arrived here. Everything has altered much in price since I was in this place before. However, I cannot rest longer without giving my dear Ann some token of my affection for her. These baubles will occasionally serve to remind her that her brother George, though far away, still loves and adores her. I wonder much at not hearing from you. I hope you do not conceive I am careless of your affairs. I think you know me better than to suspect it. I have not had a letter since September last. The French are bringing up all the men they can muster, and concentrating them in different Divisions near us. The weather has been so intolerably wet and bad that it would be impossible for the two hostile armies to commence the work of death and destruction at this time. We are in hopes the sun will begin to shine upon us and dry the earth sufficiently to enable us soon to commence. Our men are in the highest spirits imaginable, and the Portuguese also are determined to fight to the last. We shall soon have noble work. The French are a set of impudent rascals. I certainly expected to find them stand much better than in the two or three instances where I have been, with others of my regiment, opposed to them. They are certainly brave men, but do not like close quarters. When charged by Britons they run off.

When anything particular transpires I will write you. I have at present several articles, but cannot find any conveyance for them. I shall leave them at Lisbon. My brother Maud has the history of everything belonging to me. He sent me a letter the other day requesting I would accept forty or fifty dollars, as I must be in want of money. I thanked him, but desired him to take care of it until he arrived in England, where it would be of use. He laughed at my delicacy. He is an impudent fellow, I assure you. I also told him it astonished me exceedingly to find he could keep any money; I wondered it did not become a burden to him. He wanted one day to wager with me on that head, but on showing him twenty-five guineas besides dollars, he passed it off and abused me for covetousness. I expected a letter from him, and would have enclosed it, but he is too idle to write, as I generally contrive to give him all my news. I received a very kind letter from Colonel Sibthorp this morning. By some accident it has been detained in England ever since I was at Lisbon before. He says he fully expected me home, and had fitted up a quarter for me in his house. He was extremely happy when he heard through the Adjutant of the Lincoln, with whom I correspond, that my health was again re-established; and in some measure to palliate the disappointment he experienced in not seeing me, he sent me £25 for my present use. He concludes his letter with again observing that if I should be obliged to come home from wounds or illness or any other cause, his house will always be open to me. I assure you this letter gives me great pleasure. I know well it is in Colonel Sibthorp's power to befriend me in my profession.

I send Ann a gold chain; it is, I am informed, a curiosity in England and is the purest gold that can be formed, also a gold cross set with topaz, a pair of earrings; the same I could not procure smaller, or should have liked them better. I send my mother a ring set also in topaz, and a silver snuff-box. I hope the whole will arrive safe. I send them at a venture, and durst not risk more money. I have often laughed at the cause of my buying the box at Coimbra. It was when I had experienced a severe march after being wounded, and was feverish and continually talking of my dear mother and annoying every one near me. I would not be satisfied until my servant had procured some boxes from a jeweller. The one I send was my choice. I wrote a long letter settling my little affairs, stuffed it into the box, and then felt very happy. The next day my wound was more favourable. You know the rest. I think I see my mother opening the box and recounting this little tale. When the officer lands he will give the parcel to the clerk at some mail coach office (by my orders). Pay the booking. I think there is no chance of its miscarrying. You may on receipt of this, occasionally send to the post office to inquire for a small parcel directed as usual, Osborne Street, Kingston-upon-Hull. The whole cost me £7 or £8. I have more curiosities, but durst not risk them all at once.

I hope two months will nearly enable us to decide the fate of Portugal. It is my continued prayer for a general action. That day will be tremendous. I have no fear as to the result. The troops are seasoned, weather-beaten veterans, commanded by the best General in the British service. I wish some of those fellows who are so ready to abuse him were for a night posted within 200 yards of the enemy; they would not talk so nonsensically. It is easy for them to do so fighting battles over a good fireside at home with a pot of old October before them.

My love to you all, particularly my uncle and aunt. I remain the same, still and for ever, your affectionate son,

G. Simmons, Lt., 95th Regmt.

I hope Joseph attends to my injunctions. It will in the end be himself that must reap the benefit. "Education is fortune sufficient to a man who will make good use of it."

Journal—20th January-25th March 1811

Considerable reinforcements have joined the French army, several of the Brunswickers have deserted to the enemy, and some were detected in the act of going over. Three of them were shot and the corps sent to the rear. Deserters, both officers and men, very frequently came over from the French army.

I found myself quite restored to health, and went to the Italian opera, San Carlos. Also went on board the Tonnant, 80 guns, to see the brother of Lieutenant Stokes, a friend of mine, who was exceedingly kind, as well as the whole of the officers, and showed me the greatest hospitality.

The remains of the Marquis Romana were brought on shore at Belem. Minute guns were fired. The body was taken to the Church of San Justine, where it was interred with much pomp and ceremony, the British and Portuguese soldiers being all under arms, and police guards also.

The shock of an earthquake at 11 o'clock P.M., which alarmed the inhabitants.

Having enjoyed myself for some time now in Lisbon, and being quite restored to health, I became anxious of again associating with my brother soldiers.

Took my departure, in company with my worthy friend, Colonel Beckwith. He had been some time in Lisbon with intermittent fever, but was now restored to health. Halted at the house of Major M'Neal, a friend of the Colonel's, at Alhandra, where we were very hospitably treated. It being a rainy morning, and the Major pressing us to stay another day, we did so.

Rode to Valle and joined Captain Beckwith's company, which was in the same house and stables I left it in five weeks before, although it had changed its captain.

Colonel Drummond took command of the 2nd Brigade of the Light Division vice Winch deceased.

Cornet Streunitz, of the German Hussars, surprised an advanced post of the enemy near Rio Mayor, consisting of an officer and thirty men. Cavalry desertion from the enemy very frequent, and constant reports brought in that they cannot remain much longer in their present position, as the soldiery are suffering sad privations.

Cornet Streunitz took another party of the enemy, one officer and fifteen men, who had been placed in ambush to endeavour to surprise our cavalry piquets. I got leave to visit my brother Maud, who was in General Hill's Division across the Tagus. I passed it in a large boat of a rough structure filled with men and horses, and very bunglingly navigated; however, I was landed safely. I mounted my horse and rode to Almeyrim, where his regiment was stationed (2nd Battalion 34th). I found him well, and we fought over our battles together, over some bad wine.

Returned to my corps, as the reports of the enemy's moving off gain ground daily.

Two deserters came over; they report that the enemy are burning everything that they cannot remove, such as gun-carriages, carts, etc.

The cavalry have advanced a little way on our left, and the Divisions in rear are closing up to us.

The juiz de fore of Santarem sent a peasant to give information that the enemy had retired through the place at two o'clock this morning and were in full retreat. The Light Division followed the enemy at daybreak and entered Santarem, where we remained about an hour. How different this town now appeared; when I last was in it all was gaiety and happiness, and the shops abounding with every luxury, and a smile upon every one's face; but now the houses are torn and dilapidated, and the few miserable inhabitants, moving skeletons; the streets strewn with every description of household furniture, half-burnt and destroyed, and many streets quite impassable with filth and rubbish, with an occasional man, mule, or donkey rotting and corrupting and filling the air with pestilential vapours.

My heart ached as I passed through it. We marched to Pernes. The enemy had blown up the bridge over the river Pernes, which was repaired by Captain Todd, Royal Staff Corps. The poor inhabitants had been persuaded to remain by Marshal Junot, under fair promises, but they ill performed these assertions. The houses were nearly all unroofed, and the people in a starving condition. Two young ladies had been brutally violated in a house that I entered, and were unable to rise from a mattress of straw. On the line of march, comparing notes with other officers, I found that they all had some mournful story to relate of the savage French Vandals which had come under their immediate observation.

Followed the enemy's rear-guard to Torres Novas, and halted near La Marrosa. The Horse Artillery and Royal Dragoons came up with the French rear-guard and harassed it. We passed several of the enemy's killed and wounded men upon the road as we advanced. The unfortunate inhabitants that have remained in their villages have the appearance of people who have been kicked out of their graves and reanimated, and the sight of them rouses the fiercest passions within us, and will make us, when we come up with the enemy, take ample vengeance upon them for their unheard-of and disgusting cruelties to this unfortunate nation. O happy England! surrounded by an element over which thy sons in their wooden walls triumphantly sway, and on thy happy shores the arms of that tyrant who has deluged Europe in blood can have no influence. May it ever be so is my earnest prayer!

Light Division marched at daybreak, and came up with sixty sick Frenchmen upon donkeys in a wretched plight from disease and fever. We followed the rear-guard to Venda dos Carvalhos. The enemy moved off when we came in sight. The cavalry and Horse Artillery pressed them so hard that the enemy blew up four tumbrils and destroyed a quantity of gun tackling.

Advanced early this morning, and after marching five hours, came up with the enemy's rear-guard at the junction of the road from Leyria and Lisbon to Coimbra. A large body of cavalry showed itself, and infantry in force was halted in rear. An advanced squadron of the 11th French Horse Grenadiers were charged by the 1st German Hussars in pretty style, and twelve of them taken. The French had taken two Hussars two days before, and it was believed had coolly sabred them. The Germans were so incensed at the report that they were going to put some of these men to death, but were luckily prevented and persuaded to desist. One of the enemy was a very handsome man and an Italian. He had a narrow escape, as he was upon his knees and the sword uplifted to slaughter him when Colonel Gilmore begged him off. About forty straggling soldiers fell into our hands on this day's advance, and the road was often covered with dead Frenchmen, gun-carriages, waggons, and pieces of different military equipment.

Returned half a league and bivouacked in a pine wood. Sir William Erskine took command of the Light Division. The enemy appeared in great force for the purpose of checking our advance, in order that their heavy guns, baggage, etc., might gain some advantage by moving rapidly away. Towards evening our forces were considerably augmented by the arrival of General Pack's Brigade and a Brigade of the 1st Division. In short, our army was moving up as quick as the nature of circumstances would admit of it.

Fight of Pombal

The enemy moved off before day, and our cavalry and Horse Artillery set out in pursuit of it. They were obliged to halt a little way from Pombal, and the Light Division were sent forward to dislodge the enemy's Light Infantry and Voltigeurs from the enclosures. The castle, an old ruin situated upon an eminence, was very spiritedly attacked by the 95th Rifles and the 3rd CaÇadores. Although the enemy disputed the ground obstinately, which, from the nature of it, was very defensible, yet they were driven sharply through Pombal. Some officers' baggage was captured.

The enemy remained on strong ground at a little distance from us. The 1st, 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th Divisions arrived near us in the course of the evening. The town of Pombal is frightfully dilapidated, and the inhabitants as miserable as I have before represented them in other places.

Combat of Redinha

The enemy took up a position to receive our attack in front of Redinha, his right resting on the river Soure, protected in front by heights covered with wood, and his left beyond Redinha upon the river. The front part of his line was much intersected with deep ravines. In the centre was a beautiful plain filled with infantry, formed in good order but a motley-looking set of fellows in greatcoats and large caps, a body of cavalry supporting, and other bodies moving according to circumstances. The wooded heights were attacked by a wing of the 1st Battalion (Rifles), commanded by Major Stewart, who carried them in gallant style. The other wing attacked the left, the Light Division acting in unison with these attacks, our columns moving rapidly into the plain, forming line and moving on, and also the cavalry. It was a sunshiny morning, and the red coats and pipe-clayed belts and glittering of men's arms in the sun looked beautiful. I felt a pleasure which none but a soldier so placed can feel. After a severe struggle we drove the enemy from all his strongholds and down a steep hill to the bridge. We pushed the fugitives so hard that the bridge was completely blocked up, numbers fell over its battlements, and others were bayoneted; in fact, we entered pell-mell with them. The town was set on fire in many parts by the enemy previous to our entering it, so that numbers of them, to avoid being bayoneted, rushed into the burning houses in their flight. Lieutenant Kincaid[17] passed with me through a gap in a hedge. We jumped from it at the same moment that a Portuguese Grenadier, who was following, received a cannon shot through his body and came tumbling after us. Very likely during the day a person might have a thousand much more narrow escapes of being made acquainted with the grand secret, but seeing the mangled body of a brave fellow so shockingly mutilated in an instant, stamps such impressions upon one's mind in a manner that time can never efface. A man named Muckston laid hold of a French officer in the river and brought him out. He took his medal, and in the evening brought it to me. I took it, but should have felt happy to have returned it to the Frenchman.

The enemy cannonaded our columns crossing the bridge and occasionally gave the skirmishers some discharges of grape. Notwithstanding, it did not deter us from following them and driving them some distance, when we were recalled and formed up. The British army bivouacked for the night. Lieutenants Chapman and Robert Beckwith wounded.

The Light Division advanced at daylight and found the enemy strongly posted in front of Condexa. The 3rd Division took a detour by a mountain road and turned the enemy's left, which obliged Johnny to move off; we followed through the town close to them; the houses being generally unroofed and others that had been quarters for French officers, were deliberately set on fire.

In one instance I ordered some soldiers to remove several chairs and some straw under a staircase which was then on fire. By this timely removal, the house was saved, and most likely many others.

Action of Cazal Nova

As soon as the fog cleared away, we found the enemy very strongly posted, the ground for miles in their rear being one continued series of good positions. The heights and village of Cazal Nova were spiritedly attacked by Major Stewart with the left wing 95th Rifles, and the other wing soon followed. Then, soon after, the whole Light Division was engaged skirmishing, which continued from hill to hill, and a combined movement (on the enemy's flank) by the 3rd Division assisted us very materially in making the enemy quit the many strongholds which, owing to the nature of the ground, gave him repeatedly the advantage over us. About three in the afternoon a regiment formed up and hid itself. Our advanced skirmishers, going over the slope of a hill, came within a few yards of this regiment, when the men fired a volley into our faces. It was quite ridiculous; the balls went whizzing over our heads, and they scampered off. Our Horse Artillery generally gave the enemy a few rounds of shrapnel to amuse them before we gave over our day's work. These battalions of the enemy, by our rapid movements, were forced upon the main body at Miranda do Corvo, on the Deuca, and had sustained considerable loss. From the hard fighting of this day many brave fellows had fallen. Major Stewart, a fine gallant little fellow who commanded the attack so spiritedly, was wounded. Lieutenant Strode, in the company with myself, was also wounded.[18] I was placed on piquet at the entrance of the town of Lous~a, and a little after dark patrolled into it. Houses in every direction were on fire, and a few wretched inhabitants standing about in the streets with despair and horror marked in their faces. Kincaid and I went into a house where an old man was seated; he had been lame in both legs for many years. A French soldier, on leaving the house, had given him two deep sabre wounds on the head and another on the arm. This place was a true picture of everything that was wretched.

I was sent on this morning with a party of the piquet. Found near the roadside, quantities of ammunition that had been buried by the French, also a French officer and numbers of men dead; a deserter from the Brunswickers I took prisoner. The enemy had retired in the night so as to have a little start of us, as the battalions engaged yesterday had been too severely handled. At every step this morning we found sick and dead Frenchmen, gun-carriages, waggons, baggage; horses, mules, and donkeys abandoned by their masters, not being able to carry their loads farther, some from frightful sore backs, others from lameness and starvation. We passed through Miranda do Corvo in pursuit of the enemy. The town was almost filled with sick, wounded, and dying men, abandoned to their fate, and dead. The rascally French had even plundered this place and committed every sort of wanton atrocity upon the inhabitants, and then left many of their helpless countrymen for the infuriated inhabitants to wreak their vengeance upon. Luckily for these poor wretches, we followed the French so rapidly that they fell into our hands, and were put in charge of British soldiers, or they would have been butchered indiscriminately.

Combat of Foz de Aronce

After marching a league from the latter town, we found the enemy's rear-guard had taken up a position at Foz de Aronce, with their back to the river Ceira, and the bridge behind them blown up. The remainder of their army was in position on the other side, having passed by fording, but in consequence of heavy rains, the river became so swollen that it was in a few hours impassable. Our gallant chief observed with his penetrating eye the egregious mistake that the officer, Marshal Ney, who commanded the French rear-guard, had made. We were all hungry and tired. I was frying some beef and anxiously watching the savoury morsel, when an order was given by Lord Wellington himself to Colonel Beckwith: "Fall in your battalion and attack the enemy; drive in their skirmishers, and I will turn their flank with the 3rd and 1st Divisions." The whole Light Division were smartly engaged. The enemy opposed to the company (Captain Beckwith's) I was with, were behind a low wall. The approach was through a pine wood, and the branches were rattling about our ears from the enemy's bullets. Lieutenant Kincaid got shot through his cap, which grazed the top of his head. He fell as if a sledge hammer had hit him. However, he came to himself and soon rallied again. Lieutenant M'Cullock was shot through the shoulder. The attack commenced about five in the afternoon and lasted till after dark, the rain falling abundantly during part of the time. The French fought very hard, and, some finding resistance to be in vain, threw themselves upon our generosity, but the greater part rushed into the river, which was tumbling along in its course most furiously, and there soon found a watery grave. The enemy so little dreamt of being disturbed this night that their cooking utensils were left upon their fires for strangers to enjoy their contents. Such are the chances of war! I was quite exhausted and tired, and was with about fifteen of the company in the same state, when we made a great prize. One of the men found a dozen pots upon a fire, the embers of which were low and caused the place to escape notice. Here we adjourned, and soon made the fire burn brightly. We found the different messes most savoury ones, and complimented the French for their knowledge of making savoury dishes, and many jokes were passed upon them. The men looked about and found several knapsacks; they emptied them at the fireside to see their contents and added to their own kits, shoes and shirts of better quality than their own. In every packet I observed twenty biscuits nicely rolled up or deposited in a bag; they were to last each man so many days, and he must, unless he got anything else, be his own commissary. We had been very ill-off for some days for bread, so that some of these proved a great luxury.

At two o'clock this morning the enemy had the arches of the bridge more effectually blown up. The weather began to clear at daylight. We saw numbers of the enemy dead in the river, and lying about near the bushes as the water had left them. It was judged about 700 or 800 had been drowned, and the 39th Regiment lost their Eagles in the water. A great quantity of baggage must have been destroyed or thrown into the water, as there were a great many mules and donkeys close to the river-side, hamstrung in the hind leg. These poor animals looked so wretched that one could not help feeling for them, and disgusted us with the barbarous cruelty of the French. To have killed and put them out of their misery at once would have been far better. We remained in bivouac.

The Light Division forded the river, a little more than knee-deep now, which the day before yesterday had caused so many Frenchmen to wind up all worldly accounts. Bivouacked for the night in a pine wood after a short march, as, owing to our rapid advance, it became difficult to get up a sufficient supply of rations for the army from Lisbon. Some deserters say the enemy has buried many pieces of cannon. Gun-carriages, ammunition-waggons, and every material of war is abandoned by the enemy, which makes us regret that provisions should be the cause of delay in not pursuing more effectually the great advantages we have already gained. A deserter informed us that after dark the other night the enemy sent several battalions down to the river to assist, if possible, the rear-guard in passing the river, but that they got into confusion and fired upon each other.

Advanced early this morning to the river Alva, found the bridge blown up, and the enemy in position on very strong ground at Ponte de Murcella with some guns in position commanding the approach to the river. We formed opposite the enemy and had a fine view of a large body of them. Some nine-pounders were soon got up, and commenced pounding their columns. I never saw Johnny go off in such confusion. The cavalry followed for some distance. The Light Division went into bivouac in the pine woods for the night.

An extract from the General Orders of the Day shows the high estimation in which our gallant Commander holds the three British regiments of the Light Division for their services in the field for the last ten days.

A wooden bridge having been thrown across the river during last night, we passed over this morning and advanced through Sobreira. A league farther we bivouacked in a wood of pines. The cavalry followed the enemy's rear-guard, and in crossing a plain took 800 prisoners. One was a Portuguese and aide-de-camp to Loison. He had a Spanish girl in a Hussar uniform as his companion. This fellow, on his arrival in Lisbon, will be put to death as a traitor to his country if he has not better luck than he deserves.

Light Division moved through Galizes and went into bivouac in a fir grove near Vendas Novas. The French rear-guard was vigorously pursued by the cavalry and Horse Artillery, who took numbers of prisoners and stragglers. We found numbers of tumbrils, carts, waggons, and other articles abandoned by the French. Occasionally we found Portuguese peasants that had been most wantonly shot by the enemy.

The Light Division marched on to the fir groves above Maceira and bivouacked. Two hundred more of the enemy taken by the cavalry.

Went into houses at Moimenta da Serva in consequence of the weather being very bad. Several of the poor people gave us a melancholy account of the cruelties they had suffered from the French; and in every village on the line of their march they had murdered many of the inhabitants in a most savage manner. A priest in the above village dead, and his body mutilated.

Marched in front of Sampayo and bivouacked in a wood.

Lodged in the town of Mello.

Bivouacked in a wood. Supposed to be waiting for supplies.

Letter No. XI

Mello (near Celorico), Portugal,
26th March 1811.

My dear Parents—I received the melancholy account of poor John with sorrow.[19] It is a great misfortune, and under the present circumstances it is utterly impossible to give him the least support. I hope by this time you have received more authentic information as to his situation. It is entirely out of my power to gain any knowledge of him or be of the slightest use, distant as I am from England. Your plan will be to make inquiry through the Transport Board, but it is so entirely out of my way, I cannot advise you how to act with certainty. In a mercantile place like Hull you will find numbers very well acquainted with the business. If it would be possible to remit him money occasionally, it would be the best way of serving him. It would be cruel of me to say anything further regarding my displeasure when I heard of him binding himself in so low a capacity; it is done, and the result has proved truly unfortunate. We cannot foresee evils, but we should endeavour to prevent them. If he had been a soldier, or a sailor in a King's ship, he would, though a prisoner, have had some little liberty, but in his situation he will not be noticed, but mix with men of all descriptions. I endeavour to look upon his unfortunate situation in the best manner possible. I flatter myself an exchange of prisoners may take place before long. I hope his constitution is good. He may possibly make his escape, though when once safe in France, it is unlikely. I sometimes fancy he may get away after recovering from the wounds he received, being near the coast. If he is enterprising, I think he may have several chances; but, poor fellow, his youth may make him careless. I wish I had the chance of attacking the escort that guards him on the road. I think you would then soon have a favourable account of him. Give me all the information you can about him in your next.

I joined my regiment at Valle on the 22nd of February, the place I left them at, my health quite restored and my thigh much better. I heard of Maud's regiment being on the other side of the Tagus in good quarters; it induced me to go. He was delighted to see me. He regretted much the account of poor John. I dined with him, and stayed until late the day following. Before I left his quarters he gave me an excellent dinner and plenty of good wine. I was much pleased with his manner of living, having a good stock of useful and necessary things, a canteen with knives, forks, plates, etc.—in short, everything useful, with a donkey to carry them. He is very steady, and has saved money. I paid him some very high compliments on his conduct. He is taller than I, and I assure you a very handsome, stout fellow. I told him about the little trinkets I had sent Ann from Lisbon, which, by the bye, I hope have arrived safe; acquaint me regarding them in your next. He means to make Ann some presents when he returns. The officers of his regiment behaved very politely, and invited me to spend some days, but that was impossible. My brother came a little way with me, and with regret we parted. We continued at Valle within pistol-shot of the enemy's sentries until 6th March. At daybreak we found the enemy had left this strong position and withdrawn his piquets. Our Division directly followed. The French went off in the night, consisting of the rear-guard of 12,000 men. They had been for some days taking sick and baggage to the rear and heavy cannon also. We passed through the fine town of Santarem, which was dreadfully sacked. I was in the town when full of people and wealth; this sight hurt my feelings much. A few half-starved miserable wretches came to cheer us, nearly dead with hunger. I looked for the house I was once billeted upon, but, alas! only the bare walls remained. The unfortunate owner was a fine liberal old man, and treated me very kindly. I made some inquiries, but could hear nothing. We halted for the night in a village.

At daybreak we followed the French, and passed through several towns on fire. We did not come up with them. This night was on outlying piquet. A little cottage by the roadside struck my fancy. I took up my abode in order to have my pound of meat cooked and to be sheltered, being rainy. The woman of the house welcomed me in and offered me her chair. She had four children lying near her literally starving. The French had robbed her of everything worth taking. Some of the soldiers cut her with their swords for endeavouring to stop them from taking away her daughter, and one villain had the meanness to return to the house and tell her, "Your children are starving; if you will give two dollars for this loaf, you shall have it." She went where the last of her money was secreted; he watched her, and took the money, abused her, and walked off. The poor creature and her children appeared so wretched; she was continually praying the English would revenge her wrongs. I did what I could to console her, and gave them some of my little stock of provisions, which, circumstanced as we are, we must, from real necessity, be very careful of, as the towns are all left by the inhabitants.

It is beyond everything horrid the way these European savages have treated the unfortunate Portuguese. Almost every man they get hold of they murder. The women they use too brutally for me to describe. They even cut the throats of infants. The towns are mostly on fire—in short, they are guilty of every species of cruelty. I have seen such sights as have made me shudder with horror, and which I really could not have believed unless an eye-witness of them. It is needless for me to enter into particulars, as I could fill a volume with their barbarities. We continued marching, daily taking French sick and stragglers. If they fell by any chance into the hands of the Portuguese, they either dashed their brains out or stabbed them without ceremony. From the Portuguese they certainly deserve no quarter, for they give none.

On the 9th, one company of us had some little skirmishing. The Hussars and the 16th Light Dragoons, amounting to two troops, charged double the number of French; killed and wounded fifteen and took ten horses.

On the 11th we followed the enemy; two companies of ours drove them from the woods; the enemy halted at Pombal, and occupied the heights and castle. After some sharp fighting the enemy were driven from their position, on the 3rd CaÇadores (pronounced Cassadores) coming up. One officer wounded and several men.

On the 12th we passed through several towns on fire; about eleven o'clock A.M. we came up with the French, and found them posted upon some heights in great force, both cavalry and infantry. On their right and left were woods filled with sharp-shooters. Our columns moved up and our regiment, the 43rd, 52nd, and Portuguese Light Infantry, amounting to 5000, extended to the distance of three miles. The order was given, and we filled the woods. The French threw numbers of shot and shells, which only killed a few men. The woods were of fir-trees and upon the sides of steep hills; as soon as we gained the top, the French gave us a volley. It was of no consequence; our Boys would not be stopped. The French, finding they could not stop us, retired in the greatest confusion through the town of Redinha, which was on fire. We kept at their heels, and the town was filled with our men in a moment. We plied the enemy so hard that numbers threw away their arms, and upwards of fifty fell over the bridge and were drowned. A party of my men were blazing away at the rascals; one espied an officer endeavouring to get through the water; he jumped in and brought him out by the neck. He gave the soldier thirty-six doubloons and a medal dedicated to the Legion of Honour. The soldier gave me the medal. I should have returned it to the officer, but having something of a more serious nature to mind, I afterwards had not an opportunity. Halted for the night in a wood.

No fighting of consequence on the 13th.

On the 14th we drove in the enemy's piquets at daylight. Our whole Division was engaged. Lieutenant Strode of the same company was badly wounded in the thigh, and Major Stewart mortally wounded. We continued fighting until three o'clock P.M. Strode when he fell called to me to take his rifle, exclaiming, "This, Simmons, may be of service." I had no time to stand on ceremony, but moved on. The French were driven back on all sides, and very glad to give over fighting.

A very good town near where we halted was on fire, and numbers of the inhabitants murdered.

At daybreak on the 15th found the enemy were gone. We immediately followed, and came up with them at half-past four o'clock P.M. occupying a very strong position and in great force. We began to build huts about a mile from them and cook our breakfast, dinner, and supper all at once; soldiers eat when they can. However, we were disappointed, an order coming from Lord Wellington for an immediate attack. Every man to his post, and in ten minutes exposed to a heavy fire of shot, shells, and musketry. In passing the plain to get at the enemy in the wood, I was for the moment startled; a musket ball struck my rifle (Strode's), and shattered the butt to pieces, which luckily saved my right thigh. I laughed and pushed on.

We here had some very hard fighting, having twelve French battalions opposed to us. Our men and the Portuguese went in skirmishing order up to their line. The French fired volleys. Their officers behaved very gallantly. Just at dark the enemy were beaten back in all directions, and as caution is necessary, we gave up the pursuit. This fight took place near, and in, the village of Foz de Aronce. Above 500 of the enemy were driven into the river and drowned, numbers killed and wounded, nearly 300 mules and asses killed for fear of falling into our hands. We quartered ourselves in the French camp; they left us good fires. I roasted some pork which the French left, and had plenty of biscuit, took a glass of grog and a pipe, and talked over the business of the day with my brother-officers. Very happy to find I had a whole skin, which was more than I expected; rolled myself in my cloak, lay by the fire, and slept as well as I could wish.

In the whole of these affairs we have had one major killed, a very fine gallant soldier, and six lieutenants wounded; I cannot say how many men. The Gazette will give a more circumstantial account. The 43rd and 52nd have also suffered severely. Some light companies of other regiments were with us. The Portuguese deserve every praise; they fight like lions. We have paid off the French for old scores, and also taught them what they must expect to meet with if ever they dare to invade our happy country. As for my gallant countrymen, I cannot say too much for them; proud I am indeed to be worthy the name of a Briton. I have confidence and pleasure in feeling I have done my duty under all the privations I have laboured under, and at a time when hardly recovered from a very bad illness. I have great reason to thank the Almighty for His merciful goodness to me, and for my preservation hitherto. I hope it is for a good purpose. I must own it would grieve me to leave you under your present circumstances. I yet flatter myself some day or other I shall have it in my power to show some mark of my affection to the best of parents; if not: God's will be done. My last words will be prayers for the welfare of those dearer to me than life.

I have seen a letter from Cadiz. I find the rascally Spaniards have deceived General Graham, but the English alone gave the French a terrible beating. Our regiment had one lieutenant-colonel wounded, one captain killed, and four lieutenants wounded. Our regiment gets terribly cut up. We think nothing of it. Every man glories in doing his duty, and those that survive must be promoted.

The French said they would drive us into the sea, but Lord Wellington, the finest General in the British service, has, from his penetration, starved and nearly driven them back out of Portugal. We are at Celorico, only six leagues from the frontiers of Spain, and in a few days I shall once more see Almeida. I hope not to be so unlucky as before. If we can bring the French to a general action, you will have a fine account of the result. I hope it will be the case in a few days. Our men have got quantities of money and plunder from the French. In the whole business we have taken 1500 prisoners. I cannot ascertain how many were drowned in the two rivers, but the last business was a glorious one for us. The river appeared covered with bodies of fine handsome fellows. We march in the morning, but the enemy seem to wish to be off and have no more to do with us.—I am, your affectionate son,

Geo. Simmons, Lt., 95th Regmt.

Joseph, I hope, is at school; Charles and Betsy also. My love to my dear Ann. She must endeavour to spell better. Always let me see some of her writing. Joseph may as well likewise give me a specimen.

When I am richer I shall send some things of more value to Ann. The snuff-box, I hope, will please my dear mother. Be particular in stating when you write, which must be on receipt of this, whether the trinkets have safely arrived. I have no doubts upon the subject, as the officer I entrusted them to is a particular friend. You must excuse omissions in this letter, as I had only a little time to give you this account, and that after a hard day's march, when I ought to have been sleeping instead of writing.

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