A Boy in the Peninsular War. Robert Blakeney
to give what assistance lay in their power, in case of meeting obstacles in the bed of the river. The horses were immersed above their bellies and the men up to their middles; yet Captain Wilmot never quitted the stream, crossing and re-crossing until all the guns were safely landed. The principal difficulty arose in drawing them up the opposite bank, but this being an affair of mere physical force all obstacles were soon overcome. After this, our first check, we moved on cheerily, as is usual with soldiers, who never dwell upon hardships a moment longer than their continuance.
Our next great annoyance, and I may add suffering, was caused by the inclemency of the weather. On the day upon which we marched into Guarda the 5th Regiment lost five men and the 28th Regiment two men, who actually perished on the road in consequence of heavy rain which incessantly fell during the whole day. A person who has never been out of England can scarcely imagine its violence. Let him fancy himself placed under a shower-bath with the perforations unusually large, the water not propelled divergingly with a light sprinkling, but large globular drops pouring down vertically and descending in such rapid succession as to give the appearance rather of a torrent than a shower; he may then form an idea of the rainy season which drenches Portugal during the autumnal months. Exposed to such rain, we marched many miles to gain the top of the hill upon which stands Guarda. Having at length performed this harassing march, the regiments (I think three in number) were lodged in large convents situated in the immediate suburbs, which had been prepared for our reception. Immense fires were soon lit, and the men commenced first wringing and then drying their clothing. Rations were delivered as soon as possible, and the glad tidings of a double allowance of rum loudly rang throughout the holy aisles.
The soldiers now began to forget what they had suffered during the day. The business of cooking went on cheerfully, but from the blazing fires which illumined the convent much precaution was necessary to preserve the building from being burned. The men being made as comfortable as circumstances would permit, and there being no accommodation for the officers in the convent, they were as usual billeted upon private houses in the town, each regiment leaving an officer in the convent to preserve good order, for after hardship, as after victory, soldiers are prone to commit excesses.
WORDS OF SIR JOHN MOORE.
In walking through the town next day but one (we halted there two days), I met the Commander of the forces, accompanied by two of his staff and one orderly dragoon. He rode to and fro in the street several times, evidently in search of something. As I stood still, as if to ask if I could be of any use, Sir John Moore rode up and asked me if the men’s clothes and appointments were yet dry. I replied that they were not perfectly so, but would be in the course of the day. He expressed his satisfaction, adding: “You must march to-morrow at all events. I shall not ask about your arms or ammunition; the 28th know their value too well to neglect them.” He then said that his horse had just lost a shoe, for which he was in search. I also searched for a moment, but to no purpose. The general then remarking that no doubt he should find some place along the road to have his horse shod, rode away. I mention this trifling circumstance, otherwise uninteresting, because it illustrates Sir John Moore’s constant habit of speaking to every officer of his army whom he met, whatever his rank, asking such questions as tended to elicit useful information, and in the most good-humoured and courteous manner making such remarks as indirectly called forth the most strenuous endeavours of all to a full discharge of their duties. But when he considered a more direct interference requisite, he was prompt in showing it without partiality and regardless of persons. An instance of this took place a few days previous to our breaking up the camp at Queluz. On meeting an old officer, with whom he was long acquainted and who was his countryman, he asked him familiarly how he did. The officer answered, in the manner which men in good health usually do, that he was perfectly well, and he added: “I am totally at your Excellency’s service. I have nothing to do.” He hinted perhaps that a staff employment would not be unacceptable nor injurious to the service. Sir John Moore politely bowed. Next day commanding officers were called upon to use every exertion necessary to bring their regiments fully equipped into the field with as little delay as possible, and to see that every officer under their respective commands was employed with equal diligence as themselves, which he feared was not the case, for no later than the day before a major of a regiment told him that he had nothing to do. He therefore held commanding officers responsible that the particular duties of every officer should be clearly and distinctly pointed out; and he added that this would forward the service and prevent discontent from want of employment. I was acquainted with the individual alluded to, a gallant officer who has since met the fate of a soldier in the field of glory.
After two days’ halt at Guarda we continued our march without any other interruption than the falling waters, and having traversed Portugal, we on November 10th marched into Fuentes de Oñoro. This was the first Spanish town we entered, and here we halted for the night.
SPANIARDS AND PORTUGUESE.
Villa Formosa, distant about two miles from Fuentes de Oñoro, is the nearest frontier town to Spain on that road. The two nations are here divided by a rivulet so inconsiderable that upon its being pointed out, many of us stood over it with one foot in Portugal and the other in Spain. But even if this national boundary had not been pointed out, we should have immediately discovered upon entering the town that we were no longer in Portugal. The difference was very striking and perceptible even in the first Spanish glance which we encountered. During our march through Portugal we mixed with people who in a manner looked up to us and showed rather a grovelling deference. We now encountered a nation whose inhabitants never regarded others as in any way superior to themselves. Their greatest condescension in meeting any other people was to consider them as equals; superiority they denied to all. The Portuguese showed us the greatest hospitality and in the civilest manner; yet their hospitality appeared the result of some obligation or constraint, not unmixed with gratitude. The Spaniards, though equally generous, were proudly hospitable. There hospitality was sincere, and not marked or rendered cold by ostentation; it appeared to be spontaneously offered, as mere matter of course, unconnected with other sentiments, disdaining any consideration beyond the act itself. The Portuguese, in his conversation, studied more the smooth arrangement of his specious words than the laudable sentiments by which they should be dictated. He endeavoured by many a ludicrous gesture and grotesque posture to add that force to his subject which was wanting in matter; and whatever might be the result he always retired fawningly. The Spaniard, invariably polite in his language and dignified in attitude, solely depended on the soundness of his argument, and talking looked you full in the face. His words clearly expressed his thoughts, and he felt hurt if obliged to repeat; and he concluded his discourse with a graceful inclination of his person. The Portuguese are not so fine or so handsome a race as the Spaniards, and in figure they are far inferior. The females have all black eyes (lampblack, if you please), but dim and dusky when compared to the brilliant black eyes of the Spanish fair.
We passed the night at Fuentes de Oñoro with mingled feelings of annoyance and pleasure, annoyed at not being able to join the inhabitants in conversation, which in some degree we could do in Portugal. I felt quite in the background, for from what little of the Portuguese language I was enabled to pick up during the march, I had acted as a kind of regimental interpreter. Pleasure we experienced at the wonderful contrast between the people whom we had just quitted and our present hosts, entirely in favour of the latter; and although we did not understand their language, yet it fell so melodiously on the ear that I for one could never after suffer the Portuguese dialect. I remembered how Charles V. said, or was reputed to have said, that whenever he wished to address his God he always did so in the Spanish language.
Next day we marched to Ciudad Rodrigo, or the city of Don Roderick, the last of the Visigoth monarchs who reigned in Spain. Here I was billeted at the house of an hidalgo or nobleman, who treated me most hospitably, and ordered my baggage-pony to be put into his private stable. But the hatred which existed between the Spaniards and Portuguese seemed to prevail even among their animals, for my unfortunate horse was so kicked and maltreated that, after endeavouring to carry my baggage to S. Martin del Rio, where we halted for the night, the poor animal dropped down dead. Besides the inconvenience which his loss caused me, I regretted his death very much. I purchased him at Queluz, near Lisbon, and he always followed me through the camp, keeping up with my pace like a dog.
On our next day’s