Produced by Brian Coe and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as printed. Words printed in italics are marked with underlines: _italics_. THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN JOHN PATTERSON, WITH NOTICES OF THE OFFICERS, &c. OF THE 50th, OR QUEEN'S OWN REGIMENT, FROM 1807 TO 1821. LONDON: T. & W. BOONE, 29, NEW BOND STREET. 1837. T. C. NEWBY, PRINTER, BURY ST. EDMUND'S. TO THE QUEEN'S MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY. MADAM, Encouraged by the very flattering manner in which your Majesty condescended to present the 50th with the Colours which they now carry, as well as by a high sense of the honour conferred upon the Regiment when they were styled the "Queen's Own," I have presumed to dedicate to your Majesty this feeble record of their services during the late War. I am fully assured that in whatever quarter of the globe their colours may be displayed, it will be to gain new honours in the field, and that, therefore, the Regiment will ever maintain that place in your Majesty's favour, which they have had the singular good fortune to acquire. I have the honour to be, Madam, Your Majesty's most obedient, and very faithful Subject, JOHN PATTERSON, CAPTAIN, Late of the 50th, or Queen's Own Regiment. _Liverpool, 25th October, 1836._ TABLE OF CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. The Author's motives. His entrance into military life. Sketches of officers. Lieutenant Colonel Stewart. Lieutenant Colonel White. A harassing march. Changes of name in the 50th regiment. Arrival at Portsmouth. The embarkation. CHAPTER II. The expedition under sail. Rough weather in the Bay of Biscay. Christmas festivities prevented. The expedition is compelled to put back. The troops are relanded. The expedition sails again. Its arrival at Gibraltar. Motley population of the place. The library. Excessive heat of the climate. Sluggishness of promotion. The expedition arrives at Cadiz. Dull cruize. Spanish attack on the French fleet. Visit to Cadiz. CHAPTER III. Campaign in Portugal. Arrival at Mondego Bay. A cool disembarkation. Bustle of encamping. Skirmish at Obidos. Action at Roliça. Death of Colonel Lake. March of the army towards Vimeiro. Junot's contempt of the British. Battle of Vimeiro. The British troops resolve to gain abundant laurels. Appearance of the country. Death of Colonel Coote. French attack repulsed. Spirit of a Highland piper. Rout of the French. Relics left behind by them. Death of Colonel Taylor. Bivouac after the battle. Convention of Cintra. CHAPTER IV. March to Lisbon. Enthusiastic reception of the English army. Danger of night rambles. Encampment at Monte Santo. The army marches towards the frontier. Santarem. A domestic occupation. Bad quarters. Pleasant life of a soldier. Description of troops on their march. Bustling second Majors. March of the army resumed. Picturesque scenes on the Tagus. Kindness of Major Napier. Ravages committed by the French. Difficulty of communicating with the natives. Signs substituted for speech. Hospitality at Guarda. Inhospitality at Ciudad Rodrigo. Arrival at Salamanca. Friendly conduct of the inhabitants. CHAPTER V. March to Salamanca. Sir David Baird. Passage of the Esla. Merit of the camp females. Halt at Lugo. Short commons. Suffering from want of sleep. Lieutenant McCarthy. Inclemency of the weather. Exertions of Sir David Baird. Distribution of shoes. Odd fits. Scarcity of provisions. Dough boys. Delights and disappointments of tea-drinking. Destruction of the money-chests. Wretched situation of the women and children. Tattered clothing. A dandy in spite of all obstacles. Bravery of the rear guard. Stupidity of the peasants. Corunna in sight. CHAPTER VI. The troops at Corunna. Alarming explosion of a powder magazine. The brigade takes up a position near Corunna. Admirable conduct of Sir John Moore. Positions of the hostile armies. French clamours in the field. The outposts are attacked. Bravery of Major Napier. Captain Clunes. New mode of dislodging French soldiers. Cookery spoiled. Major Napier is wounded and made prisoner. Death of Major Stanhope, and of other officers. A presentiment. Preparations to embark. Burial of Major Stanhope. Embarkation of the army. Anger of Soult. Loss of the Mary transport ship. Departure from Spain. CHAPTER VII. Quarters at Braborne Lees. Removal to Ashford. Character of the 85th and 68th regiments. Quarters at Ashford. Hauteur of the Ashfordians. Quarters at Reading Street. Officers ordered to the Isle of Wight. Ludicrous journey thither. The troops embark for Walcheren. The troops disembark near Camp Vere. Desolate appearance of Flushing after its surrender. Sufferings of the inhabitants. The marsh fever breaks out. Mortality caused by it. Kindness of the Dutch. Visit to Middleburgh. Cleanness and neatness of the town. Apathy of the Dutch. Singular sleeping arrangement. The troops embark for England. They go into quarters. Porchester castle. Albany barracks. Visit of the Author to Ireland. Quarters at East Bourne. CHAPTER VIII. The 1st battalion is ordered to Portugal. Lord Balgonie. Arrival at Lisbon. March to Abrantes. Bad quarters at Abrantes. Halt at Garvao. A family at Gafete. Bugs left as a legacy by the French. Situation of Portalegre. The grand Cathedral. Seclusion of the fair sex at Portalegre. Encampment on the heights of Torre de Moro. Camp comforts. Arrival at Borba. Beauty of the country round Borba. Delightful garden of Don Juan de Almeida. Style of building at Borba. Nunnery of St. Clara. The Capuchin convent. Jollity of the Monks. The Convent Kitchen. Return to Portalegre. Terrible fatigue endured. Death of Ensign Hay. Wretched Winter Quarters. The crabbed Donna Elvira and her gloomy abode. CHAPTER IX. General Hill is despatched to surprise General Girard's corps. The heights of Alegrete. The division encounters a furious storm. Halt at Codiceira. Kindness of the hostess. Superciliousness of the dragoon officers. Offensive and absurd superiority assumed by a dragoon colonel. Folly of such conduct. Anecdote of a dandy officer. "Blanket merchants." The town of Albuquerque. Appearance of the women at Malpartida. Miseries of a bivouac on a rainy night. Arrival at Arroyo del Molino. The enemy is defeated. Arrival at Merida. Ruined state of the town. Bridge over the Guadiana. Description of Campo Mayor. Charnel house. Quarters at Campo Mayor. CHAPTER X. Quarters at Albuquerque and Portalegre. House in which the Author was quartered. March to Don Benito. Family of Don Diego Ramirez. Style of living. The second division sent to the neighbourhood of Badajos. The author visits Badajos. Difficulty of approach. Description of the defences of the breaches. Enormities committed after the storming of the place. Bravery of Lieut. McCarthy. CHAPTER XI. Arrival at Truxillo. A force detached to reduce the Forts of Almaraz. Solitariness of the march. Arrangements for the attack. Hot fire from the enemy. Obstinate defence of Fort Napoleon. Death of Captain Robert Candler. The Fort is carried by storm. Bravery and fall of Clarimont, the governor. The tête du pont is carried by the Highlanders. Fort Ragusa is abandoned by the garrison. Lieut. Thiele is blown up. Loss sustained by the two victors. The two Irish brothers, Larry and Pat Egan. Repast after the success. CHAPTER XII. The troops return to Truxillo. Description of Truxillo. The Pizarro palace. A paltry bull-fight. March to Fuentes del Maestro. Quarters at Don Benito. Kindness of the inhabitants. Wedding at Don Benito. The bride and bridegroom described. Assemblies in the town. Dress of the ladies. Departure from Don Benito. March to Villa Mercia. Sad want of fuel. The bullock-cart. Sierra de Santa Cruz. Banditti-like shepherds. The troops march to Toledo. Warm reception given to them by the inhabitants. Situation of Toledo. Magnificence of the cathedral. Skeleton of St. Ursula. Beautiful paintings. The largest bell in Europe. Persons and dress of the ladies of Toledo. Dress of the men. Departure from Toledo. Bivouac on the banks of the Tagus. Tedious road to Aranjuez. Arrival at Aranjuez. Ravages committed by the French. The queen's palace. Gardens and groves of the place. CHAPTER XIII. Excursion to Madrid with a brother officer. The travellers lose their way. A surly Don refuses admission. They arrive at Villa Conejo. The inhabitants of the valleys are often robbers. Sinister countenances of some of the villagers. The travellers at last obtain a shelter. They enter Madrid. A troublesome Alcalde. Our host in love. Custom of separating males from females in the Spanish theatres. Riotous conduct of the audience in the pit. Blundering actors. An ill-looking prompter. Gaiety of the people of Madrid. La China and the Retiro. Palace of Godoy. Distress in Madrid. Difficulty of obtaining admission into the houses in Madrid. CHAPTER XIV. The travellers return to Aranjuez. March of the army towards Madrid. Halt at the Escurial. Situation of the Palace. Enormous magnitude of the building. The army proceeds on its march. Description of the pass of Guadarama. Sculpture in the pass. The army halts at Alba de Tormes. it moves on towards the Aripiles. Sufferings from the weather during the march. Difficulty of procuring subsistence and fire. A pig-hunt. Halt at Robledo. Arrival at Coria. Noisy belles and corpulent monks. Priest's wine. Ugliness of the females of Coria. Death of General Stewart, and Brigadier General Wilson. Description of the Belem Rangers. CHAPTER XV. March of the regiment to Monte Hermosa. Banditti in the neighbourhood. Journey to Placentia. Description of the party. Forest of Carcaboso. The author arrives at Placentia. He is quartered at the house of Francisco Barona. His host's wife and her lover. Return from Placentia. Fears of some of the travellers. Peasantry of Monte Hermosa described. Amusements of the Villagers. Inharmonious music and heavy dancing. CHAPTER XVI. March from Villa Hermosa. Bridge at Gihon. Halt at La Sacita. The author is quartered at the house of Bernardo Lopez. Hospitality of his host. The march resumed. Puerto de Banos. Arrival at Bejar. Warm reception given to the troops. Fears entertained of the French. Situation of Bejar. The troops are kept constantly on the alert. Hard duty. Assemblies and dances. Conduct of the Dons in the ball-room. Palace of the Duke of Ossuna. Name-day entertainments. The Carnival at Bejar. The Rabo. The Pillijo. The priests fond of gambling. Wool carding. Idleness of the men. Tertullias. General Foy attacks Bejar. He is defeated. Gratitude of the inhabitants of Bejar. CHAPTER XVII. The regiment quits Bejar. March through the Valley of the Ebro. Halt at La Puebla. Orders given to prepare for action. Battle of Vittoria. Hungry condition of the British troops. Colonel Cadogan is killed. His character. Birds'-eye view of the battle-field. Ruse de guerre of the French. Pathetic recognition of a slain brother. Close of the battle. Flight of the French. Vexation of a Scotch economical officer. Night bivouac. CHAPTER XVIII. March to Pampeluna. A storm in the Pyrenees. Lieut. Masterman killed by lightning. Movements on the enemy's flanks. Beauty of the Vale of Bastan. Halt of the army near Elisonda. Marshal Soult resolves to regain his lost ground. Another storm in the Pyrenees. Advance of the French against the British. The British outposts are driven in. Destructive fire of the Riflemen. Several officers are killed. Cool courage of Lieut. Brown. Bravery of Colonel O'Callaghan. Daring conduct of the French Officers. Colonel Hill severely wounded. The British are forced to retire. The French Riflemen again. Lieut. Birchall killed. Successful charge on the French. Killed and wounded officers. The battle terminates in favour of the British. CHAPTER XIX. The Author is wounded in the battle of the Pyrenees. He is sent to the hospital station at Vittoria. Motley group of the wounded. The Author is quartered on a partisan of the French. Lieutenant Pattison. Captain Gough. Vittoria and its vicinity. Melancholy fate of Captain Gore. Celebration of a great festival at Vittoria. Ludicrous antics of the townspeople. The Author sets out for Bilboa. Apparently cannibal innkeeper at Tolosa. Arrival at Bilboa. The Author embarks for England. Singular entrance to the port where he embarked. He lands at Plymouth. CHAPTER XX. Exploits of the 50th regiment subsequent to the Author's leaving Spain. Action at Aire. Death of Lieutenant D. McDonald. Good fortune of Lieutenant Colonel Harrison. Officers killed and wounded in the campaign of 1814. Estimate of the relative merit of the soldiery of various countries. Of the English. Of the Scotch. Of the Irish. Of the Germans. Characters of Captain Philip Blassiere. CHAPTER XXI. The 50th regiment in quarters at Aughnacloy. It removes to Enniskillen. Recruiting quarters at Londonderry. Still hunting. Disgusting nature of that service. Stratagems of the illicit distillers. Pursuit of outlaws and robbers. Magennis, a noted villain. He eludes all pursuit. Lieutenant Plunkett resolves to apprehend him. Notice of Lieutenant Plunkett's military career. He succeeds in seizing Magennis. The informer is murdered. CHAPTER XXII. The Author is ordered to join the regiment in the West Indies. He embarks at Cove. Uncomfortable state of the sleeping berths. Pleasant society on board. The pilot is charged with numerous farewells. Sea sickness. No compassion felt for its victims. Amusing talents of Mr. Charles. Disasters at dinner and tea in the Bay of Biscay. Approach to Madeira. Preparations for warm weather. Attack on the turtle. Jeopardy of the assailants. Palma and Teneriffe in sight. Attempted suicide of a soldier. Beauty of the nights. Dancing and singing on board. Crossing the Line. Consequences of the excesses connected with this mummery. Land in sight. Arrival at Jamaica. A black pilot. Prying visitors from the shore. CHAPTER XXIII. Visit to Port Royal. Tavern there. Description of Port Royal. The Author lands at Kingston. He proceeds to Up-Park Camp. Terrible mortality among the troops. Death of Colonel Hill. His character. Picturesque situation of Up-Park Camp. Its extreme insalubrity. Duties in camp. Black female pedlars. Second breakfast. Cricket. Evening Parade. Dinner. Insufferable heat of mid-day. Injurious effect of the night dews. Excessive thirst and excessive drinking. A singular idea of a fine country. Danger of being exposed to the heavy rains. Death of Lieut. Richardson. Shipwreck and death of Mrs. Ross. Description of Kingston. Extortionate conduct of the Hotel-keepers. Character of the Kingston ladies. Their extreme love of dancing. Drowsiness and apathy of the males. Unhealthiness of Spanish Town. CHAPTER XXIV. The author embarks for England. Course of the vessel. Sharks not palatable food. A visit from a Buenos Ayres privateer. Rough weather. A northwester hurricane. Its terrific appearance and effects. Misery below deck. Meritorious conduct of Mr. Grant, the Mate. He is swept away by a billow. The hurricane ceases. Vigorous attack on the breakfast. Passengers in the vessel. One of them is sickly; another is crack-brained. Misfortunes encountered by the latter. The Author lands at Deal. ERRATA. Page 6, 8 lines from bottom, for "queses," read "cues." 12, 5 lines from bottom, for "groops," read "groupes." 40, 2 lines from bottom, for "60th," read "50th." 46, 12 lines from bottom, for "among wood," read "among the wood." 48, In the list of killed, &c. at Vimeiro, instead of the passage printed, read "Capt. A. G. Coote, killed; Major Charles Hill, and Lieutenant J. N. Wilson, wounded." 69, 4 lines from bottom, for "blackening," read "blanching." 135, 9 lines from bottom, for "throgout," read "throughout." 149, 4 lines from bottom, for "Caja," read "Caio." 192, 5 lines from top, for "wood," read "mood." 199, 6 lines from bottom, for "Chandler," read "Candler." 203, 4 lines from bottom, for "Thril," read "Thiele." 221, 6 lines from bottom, for "mach," read "march." 265, 2 lines from top, for "firm," read "fine." 314, 2 lines from bottom, for "70th," read "71st." 344, 11 lines from bottom, for "Settimo," read "Septimo." 352, 5 lines from top, for "Lieutenant General Bartley, Lieutenant General Power," read "Lieutenant George Bartley, Lieutenant Power." 352, at the top, for "Lieutenant and Adjutant D. McDonald," read "Lieutenant Duncan McDonald." 389, 3 lines from top, instead of "to behold with what vanity as well as delight not a few," should read, "to behold with what delight as well as vanity not a few." 390, 2 lines from bottom, for "Wailey," read "Warley." ADVENTURES. CHAPTER I. It seems to be a general custom for the retired soldier, after he has sheathed his now harmless blade, to wield the pen, and, looking back upon his past campaigns, deliver "a round unvarnished tale." I have no wish to be singular, by making myself an exception to the rule; on the contrary, I am rather desirous of appearing on the list of those who fight their battles o'er again. I shall, therefore, as a young recruit, take part among the troop of scribblers; and, without any unnecessary preamble, assign one reason for my embarking in the cause. Among the various military narratives, written to edify the world, nothing has yet transpired regarding the old Fiftieth; not a single champion has been bold enough to step forward, and say a word or two in favour of that corps. Now, as the battalion, whenever the pebbles were flying about, was never in the back ground, there can be no excuse for silence upon the subject. Moreover, the high esteem in which I hold the companions of many a hard fought day prompts me to offer this feeble record of their services, so far as I have witnessed them; and, at the same time, to endeavour to rescue from oblivion, the memory of those brave men, who fell for their country. It perhaps may be asserted, that the interest in all such matters is now gone by, and that it is a hackneyed, dry, and threadbare theme; but I must beg leave to differ from those sapient persons, who perchance may entertain this notion. The scenes in this eventful war were ever changing; each performer ran a career as varied as the clime or country through which he travelled; in fact, so diversified were the circumstances, that if every individual from the drum-boy upwards, were to write his own adventures, I am well convinced, the story would not be wholly devoid of interest, because it would at least have novelty to recommend it. As for the movements and operations of the army, in the Spanish peninsula, they have been already well described by Colonel Napier; and therefore I consider that any account, even from the most talented pen, would be superfluous, after the details which have been so clearly given by that able historian. The hurried nature of our service rendered it impossible for us to see beyond the surface. We were scarcely ever allowed to remain more than a day or two, in any town worthy particular notice. The woods and wilds were generally the places of our habitation. From this cause, description will necessarily be meagre, and little more than an unfinished sketch, or outline, can be looked for. I shall confine myself to things that fell within the range of personal observation, many of which were noted down in a journal at the time; and in doing so I may hope to introduce some gleanings, not wholly worthless, that may have escaped the cognizance of others more experienced, and who even were long before me in the field. If the general reader should deem my preliminary matter to be of minor importance, I must beg to remind him, that there are many veterans to whom it will appear in a different light; and I must solicit his patience till I can lead him into more stirring scenes. Having, in August 1807, received a commission in his Majesty's 50th, or West Kent regiment, I joined the 2nd battalion of that corps, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Stewart, at Deal barracks, on the 17th of the following month. It was composed chiefly of young recruits and of volunteers from the English Militia, and was undergoing a strict course of drill; the whole of the officers and men being diligently employed in practising the manual and platoon exercise, marching, countermarching, and the balance step. Lieutenant-Colonel Stewart, who had lately been promoted from the 53rd, in which he had served for some years, was an old and very distinguished officer, having encountered the vicissitudes of war, in almost every quarter into which the British arms were carried. In the East Indies, while present at the siege of Seringapatam, as Captain of the 71st Highlanders, he bore a conspicuous part, when leading his company to the assault of that fortress, in which he was severely wounded. He was a hardy Northern, skilled in martial science, and was as eminent in those qualities which are required for training up the young battalion as for those which are displayed in manoeuvring the more experienced in the field. His hoary locks, well blanched by many a hard campaign, indicated the length of service to which his best days had been devoted, while his penetrating expression of countenance indicated the active mind, and the abilities, by which he was so highly distinguished. In the adjoining barrack lay the 29th or Worcestershire regiment, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Daniel White. It had lately returned from Halifax, where it had been stationed for many years.--Being in preparation for active employment, it was now passing through the usual ordeal of drill and ball practise; and consequently the interminable sounds of drums, and bugles, the monotonous din of the drill serjeants' "as you were," accompanied by the clamour from the Adjutants' stentorian lungs, were continually wringing in our ears. The 29th was a fine regiment, although it had been trained up after the manner of the old school. Their Lieutenant-Colonel, a gallant veteran,[1] shewing the example, made his officers dress with cocked hat square to the front, long queses, and wide skirted coats, fastened or looped back with hook and eye--They had rather too much of the antique about them, and were considerably improved by getting into a more modern style of costume. [1] This fine old officer was killed at the battle of Talavera, while nobly leading his regiment to the charge. We were enlivened by their excellent band; and their corps of black drummers cut a fierce and remarkable appearance, while hammering away on their brass drums. This regiment, when complete, was sent to Portugal, where by its good conduct it acquired as large a share of laurels as any other in the Peninsular army. The 2nd battalion of the 50th marched, on the 8th of October, 1807, to the town of Ashford in Kent, at which place we had excellent accommodation and good barracks. An order soon after arrived for a draught, consisting of one Captain, two Subalterns, and 150 men, to proceed forthwith to join the 1st battalion, then on its route to Portsmouth. The detachment left Ashford on the 16th of November, under the command of Captain H. I. Phelps.[2] [2] Captain Phelps, was shortly after exchanged into the 80th and consequently was not among the number who embarked with the 1st battalion. The 1st battalion of the 50th, or West Kent regiment, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel George Townsend Walker, was, at that time, above a thousand strong, having been completed by men from the second battalion, on its return from the expedition to Copenhagen. In addition to the old hands, they obtained a full supply of young active fellows, who had volunteered from the English Militia,--the whole, officers as well as privates, were in good health and spirits, elated with the prospect of active service, and looking forward to new adventures as well as to encountering the enemy in the field. But it was not alone by numerical strength or physical power that the 50th was likely to be formidable. There was likewise an "esprit de corps," a high tone of feeling among them, producing a moral force not easily to be overcome. When, after a long and harassing route, on a dismal wintry day in October, the men marched up the main street in Hythe covered with mud, drenched with rain, their clothing and accoutrements tarnished, their black facings in good keeping with their dingy costume, they certainly looked more like a band of demons than human beings, and realized, on this occasion at least, their ancient pet appellation of the 'dirty half hundred.' The 50th has undergone several changes of name, both serious and ludicrous. At the period of which we are writing, it was the West Kent regiment. When, after its return from the West Indies, in 1827, it received a new set of colours, at Portsmouth, from the hands of Queen Adelaide, (then Duchess of Clarence) it became the 'Duke of Clarence's.' On our present gracious sovereign's accession to the throne it was made a royal regiment, and obtained the honor of being styled the 'Queen's Own,' which is its present name. Among military men, it has been known by various jocose titles; at one time it was called the 'Mediterranean Greys,' from its having been so long on that station that the locks of men and officers had assumed a grisly hue. It was, at another period, named the 'Blind Half Hundred,' from being so much afflicted with the ophthalmia in Egypt. The 'Old Black Cuffs,' and the 'Dirty Half Hundred,' from the dingy colour of the facings, are still favourite appellations.--But let us resume our march. We arrived at Portsmouth on the 26th of November, 1807, having had a toilsome march of ten days; the roads were bad, and the weather was unusually cold and wet; so that we did not make a very respectable or beautiful figure, upon our entrance into that garrison, any more than we did at our exhibition in Hythe. The object of our coming to Portsmouth, was to form a portion of an expedition which was to assemble at this place of rendezvous, preparatory to its embarkation for a destined quarter, to what part of the world it was to direct its course was, however, as yet unknown to the troops who were to be engaged in it. The force to be employed on this secret enterprise consisted of the following regiments, viz.:-- The 29th regiment, Lieut.-Col. White. The 32nd regiment, Lieut.-Col. S. V. Hinde. The 50th regiment, Lieut.-Col. G. T. Walker. The 82nd regiment, Lieut.-Col. Sir G. Smith. The Armament was to be under the orders of Major General Sir Brent Spencer, an officer of well-tried experience, and merit, who had signalized himself on many occasions, and particularly when leading forward the old 40th on the sands of Egypt. With such a gallant chief at our head, followed by such troops, we could not fail to be inspired with confidence, that to whatever quarter the expedition might be bound, success would inevitably attend upon our arms. Previous to our going on board, a limited number of women were allowed to accompany the regiment, and lots were cast in order to decide this very delicate affair.--It was most affecting to witness the distress of those whose fate it was to remain behind, and the despair that was pictured on the countenances of the unhappy creatures was truly pitiable.--Many of them young, helpless, and unprotected, were forced to wander back to their own country, pennyless, and broken-hearted, and to all intents and purposes left in a widowed state, for few of them were fated ever to behold their husbands again. The moment of separation was a painful one, and was calculated not only to touch the hearts of the most indifferent observer, but to affect most deeply those who, while they felt for the mourners, had no power to mitigate their sorrows. The embarkation took place on the 17th of December. The troops were assembled on that spot, well known by the name of Portsmouth point, a place which, albeit it possesses but a scanty portion of the picturesque, even now furnished with a goodly display of animated nature, and covered with groups of motley garb and colour, consisting of all the rank, beauty and fashion of that very polite and elegant quarter of the town, drawn hither from their saloons, to witness the departure of the soldiers. CHAPTER II. 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 confinement[3]. [3] Before our departure from Falmouth our society was unfortunately deprived of Captain Bentley, who remained to effect an exchange. He was, for a considerable time, staff Captain at Chatham, and was promoted to the rank of Major, when he was appointed to the 16th foot, stationed at Ceylon. He died soon after this, justly lamented by all his friends and comrades. Bentley was succeeded, in the Alexander, by Captain Richard Stowe, a weather-beaten veteran, upon whose visage time, and hard service, had imprinted numerous deep and indelible marks. Stowe exchanged into a West India regiment, before we landed in Portugal, and was taken off by fever in one of the Leeward Islands. 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 fair[4] rock-scorpions, together with passing visitors, and warlike heroes, who have assembled to dispel that ennui which might otherwise pervade their leisure hours. [4] A term applied to those who are born on the _Rock_. 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. [5] While we lay off the bay, the governor, Solano, being suspected of adherence to the enemy, was barbarously murdered. 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. CHAPTER III. Upon our arrival off Mondego Bay, in Portugal, we received orders to disembark at the little village of Figueras, at the mouth of the Mondego river, across which there was a dangerous surf and ground swell. The passing of this obstacle we found to be a most hazardous and difficult service. As soon as the Portuguese boats, crowded with our soldiers, reached the foaming and rapid surge, a desperate pull was made by all the rowers; when, dashing over its surface, we were launched upon the strand in a most unceremonious manner, being pitched, or rather tumbled out, more like a cargo of fish than a boat load of gentlemen warriors. Bundled out upon the sandy beach, we lay floundering, and drenched by the waves, like so many half drowned wretches, who had lately escaped from Neptune's watery domains; and were almost doubtful of our existence, as we scrambled high, though not dry, upon the shore.--After this delightful immersion, and the cold reception we had experienced, on our first appearance upon the Lusitanian stage, we moved forward, with habiliments of war effectually saturated by the briny element, and soon joined our _companions of the bath_, already on the road. Most of us had been provided with small knapsacks, holding our _kit_, together with the haversack, and canteen, slung across the shoulder; of which the two former, (including their contents,) were rendered totally unfit for service, nothing being left for consolation but the brandy, or rum; cordials which were well calculated, and by no means unnecessary, to elevate our drooping spirits. As soon as we recovered from the effects of our chilling ablutions, we proceeded to the ground of encampment, and, although we were in a sorry condition with regard to the outward man, the inward was sustained by a hearty determination to bear up under privations alike inevitable to all. The weather was beautifully fine; the roads, which were in general good, led through a picturesque and richly cultivated country. At the termination of each day's march, the troops were halted in the neighbourhood of wood and water. The alignment being taken up, and the arms piled in column, fires were immediately put in requisition for cooking, and in a moment the clash and clang of bill-hooks and pioneers' entrenching tools resounded on every side; while the deep woods rang again with the clamour of ten thousand tongues, and the harsh discordant sound of bugles, drums, and other noisy accompaniments, producing, on the whole, a scene not unworthy of Hogarth himself, who might have been aroused from the dead, to execute the task of depicting it, had he been entombed within the precincts of our turbulent camp. Before daylight the army was up, and standing to their arms, formed in open column, the reveille at the same time was sounded from right to left, and echoed through the closely planted hills, giving to our enemies in the front loud intimation of our near approach, and proving that his newly arrived visitors were at all events on the alert, and came early into the field. As we moved onward, towards Lisbon, a skirmish took place at Obidos, in which fell Lieutenant Bunbury, of the 95th Rifle corps; the first British officer who was slain in the Peninsula. This was the prelude to a more important action. Headed by General Laborde, the French took post on the heights of Roriça, where they resisted with wonderful obstinacy the combined attack of our troops. Nothing could surpass the gallantry displayed by both parties, during the assault of this strong position; and nothing but the courage of British soldiers could have forced the enemy to withdraw. On our part, the noble conduct of the old 9th and 29th regiments was conspicuous, those corps having, at the point of the bayonet, carried the whole range of hills. It was a lovely morning, the sun rose with a splendour never witnessed in our cold latitudes, and every object seemed to
{'title': 'The Adventures of Captain John Patterson by John Patterson', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}