modations, we were compelled to pass the night I need hardly add, it was a sleepless one. People of any rank or condition in life, both in Spain and Portugal, when ne cessitated to make journeys, always lodge in private houses, to which they gain admittance either by regular billets, recommendations, or by hiring chambers for the night." "The life of the muleteer is very hardy. He is exposed to all weathers, for he is ever on the road. Each individual has the charge of three or four mules; and the labour of loading and unloading them daily, and foraging for them, is not trifling. The food of the muleteer is coarse; a large dish of thick peas, boiled with a morsel of pork; a sausage, or some dry salt fish fried in strong oil, are his most common and favourite dishes. He drinks more than theSpanish peasant, and generally carries a large leathern bottle or bag filled with wine. He never undresses at night, but sleeps either in the stable with his mules, or on the floor of the kitchen; indeed, in the summer, more generally in the open air.—In all places, a pack-saddle is bis pillow, and a mule cloth his coverlet. He is an honest, goodtempered, cheerful creature, and you almost always hear him singing on the road. A train of mules is seldom less than fifty; but it is not uncommon to meet two or three trains, or more, travelling the same road, and laden with the same merchandize. Each train has its captain or leader, who is invariably a trust-worthy man of the best character." In March he rejoined the army."Alas! when I came again to stand on the parade, for how many a face did my eye inquire in vain !-In the space of four short months my regiment had buried nearly three hundred men, all in the prime of fife and vigour of manhood." - Dreadful as is the aggregate of slaughter returned from a field of battle, it is probably but a small proportion of the waste of life occasioned by war. Fond of scenery, retirement, and observation, whenever the army halted he explored on foot the adjacent country. "In one of my walks I arrived at a small romantic chapel, such a one as you often find in the Peninsula, a league or more from any human habitation. In the shade near the door, I observed a small basket, apparently filled only with the most beautiful flowers; when stooping, I beheld a lovely infant about a year old; it was dressed prettily and tastefully; though pale, I thought it slept: it was, however, cold and lifeless. I kissed its delicate fair face, and thought, not without a sigh, on its parents. A voice startled me, and turning, I beheld a decent looking peasant woman, with an old man, and two or three children from ten to fifteen years of age. Are you the mother of this babe?' 'Yes, Senor.' 'I pity you from my heart.' 'How so, Senor?To have borne and buried a Christian without sin, I look on as a blessing.'-I gazed earnestly on the woman. Was this insensibility? or was it enthusiastic reverence for, and pious resignation to, the will of God?I decided for the latter; for I saw her bend over her child with an expression of countenance rapturously affectionate.--- Your child,' said I,' my good woman, is perhaps ere now, a cherub in heaven.' 'Senor, you cannot be a heretic! No, I am a Christian of another sect.' Ah! you must be a Christian: I thought so; but the Priest said you English were all heretics!'" The British army was now entering into action, and the interesting details before us, now lead us, from observations on the peasantry and the manners of the country, to the horrors of war. The whole army encamped upon the Sierra de Buzaco. No sooner had the regiment piled its arms than our young soldier walked to the verge of the mountain in the hope to obtain a view of the enemy's forces. "Little however was I prepared for the magnificent scene which burst upon my astonished sight. Far as the eye could stretch, the glittering steel and clouds of dust raised by cavalry and artillery, proclaimed the march of a countless army; while immediately below me, at the feet of those precipitous heights on which I stood, their picquets were already posted: thousands of them were already halted in their bivouacks, and column, too, after column, arriving in quick succession, reposed upon the ground allotted to them, and swelled the black and enormous masses. The numbers of the enemy were, at the lowest calculation, 75,000, and this host formed in three distinct and heavy columns: while to the rear of their left, at a more considerable distance, you might see a large encampment of their cavalry; and the whole country behind them seemed covered with their train, their ambulance, and their commissariat. This then was a French army: bere lay before me, the men, who had once, for nearly two years, kept the whole coast of England in alarm; who had conquered Italy, overrun Austria, shouted victory on the plains of Austerlitz, and humbled, in one day, the power, the pride, and the martial renown of Prussia, on the field of Jena. To-morrow I may for the first time hear the din of battle, behold the work of slaughter, share the honours of a well-fought field, or be numbered with the slain. I returned slowly to the line. Though we had neither baggage nor fires, we lay down rolled in our cloaks, and, with the stony surface of the mountain for our bed, and the sky for our canopy, slept or thought away the night. Two hours before the break of day the line was under arms; but the two hours glided away rapidly and silently. At last, just as the day dawned, a few distant shots were heard on our left, and were soon followed by discharge of cannon, and the quick,heavy, and continued roll of musketry. The first wounded man I ever beheld in the field, was carried past me. He was a fine young Englishman, and lay helplessly in a blanket, with both his legs shattered by cannon shot. He looked pale, and big drops of perspiration stood on his manly forehead, but he spoke not, his agony appeared unutterable. About this time Lord Wellington with a numerous staff galloped up, and delivered his orders to General Hill.-I distinctly overheard him. If they attempt this point again, Hill, you will give them a volley, and charge bayonets; but don't let your people follow them too far down the hill. I was particularly struck with the style of this order,so decided, so manly; and breathing no doubt as to the repulse of any attack, it confirmed confidence Lord Wellington's simplicity of manner in the delivery of orders, and in command, is quite that of an able man. He has nothing of the truncheon about him; nothing full-mouthed, important, or fussy: his orders on the field are all short, quick, and clear, and to the purpose. The French, however, never moved us through the day-in the course of it our men went down to a small brook, which flowed between the opposing armies, for water; and French and English soldiers might be seen drinking out of the same narrow stream, and even leaning over to shake hands with each other. One private of my own regiment actually exchanged forage caps with a soldier of the enc-. my, as a token of regard and good will.Such courtesies, if they do not disguise, at least soften, the horrid features of war; and it is thus we learn to reconcile our minds to scenes of blood and carnage." The enemy, however, instead of recommencing the attack, retreated, and left the fame of the most able generalship to the prudent measures and able guidance of Lord Wellington. The British commander feeling himself compelled for the safety of Portugal to abandon Spain, the order was given for the army to retreat into their lines near Lisbon. "I feel that no powers of description can convey to the minds of my readers the afflicting scenes, the cheerless desolation, we daily witnessed on our march from the Mondego to the lines. Wherever we moved,the mandate which enjoined the wretched inhabitants to forsake their homes, and to remove and destroy their little property, had gone before us. The villages were deserted; the churches empty; the mountain cottages stood open and unten. anted; the mills in the valley, but yesterday so busy, were motionless and silent.We bivouacked near Thomar.--It had counted, a few days before, a population of nearly four thousand; the morning we entered it a few hundreds only remained, and these were fearfully hurrying their depar. ture. There is a remarkably fine convent in this town. I had no occasion to ask for admission; I followed a group of noisy mu leteers, who had chosen it for their night's lodging, and whose mules were already drinking out of the marble fountain, or trampling over the neat garden, round which ran some high-arched, and echoing cloisters, yesterday responsive only to the pacing of some thoughtful monk, now resounding with the boisterous laughter and coarse jests of rude merry muleteers. In the kitchen some lay servants of the convent yet lingered; and the table in the refectory was covered with the crumbs of the last meal which the banished fathers had that morning partaken of. The church, however, large, magnificent, and gloomy, still inspired reverence and awe; and the muleteers who walked thither with me sunk into silence and crossed themselves, as they knelt before the high altar, round which the lamps, trimmed by some pious hand, were yet burning. The streets had an air of loneliness, quite oppressive to the heart; no one stood on the thresholds; no face looked from the casements; not a voice was to be heard, The flanks of our line of march from this place were literally covered with the flying population of the country. In Portugal there are at no time many facilities for travelling, and these few the exigences of the army had greatly diminished. Rich, indeed, were those who still retained a cabriolet, and mules for its service. Those who had bullock cars, asses, or any mode of transporting their families and property, looked contented and grateful; for respectable men and delicate women, of the second class, might on every side be seen walking slowly and painfully on foot, encumbered with heavy burdens of clothes, bedding, and food." "Immediately below the town, [Lisbon,] the bank of the river was crowded by fugitives, waiting to be transported across, and the most affecting groups of families sat weeping on the ground. I well remember a serious, thoughtful-looking man, of about fifty, seated on a horse, and carrying before him a very aged mother, who had been bedridden for many years, and who lay upon his arm so helplessly, and with an aspect so pale and withered, that you might have thought the grave had yielded up its dead. Here monks, gentlemen,peasants, and mendicants, were all crowded together; the silent nun and the complaining damsel, sat side by side. There was a strange, yet natural familiarity among them; natural, for it was the offspring of misery. How soon can the arrows of misfortune level the paltry distinctions of this world! Here vanity was stifled, rank forgotten: all was agitation, anxiety, and alarm. This melancholy picture was forcibly contrasted by the gay and careless security of our soldiery. For what, let me ask, does the soldier suffer, compared to the wretched inhabitant, whose country is made the theatre of war ?" through it in quick succession; we sustained 'little injury from either, but a captain of the twenty-ninth had been dreadfully lacerated by a ball, and lay directly in our path. We passed close to him, and he knew us all; and the heart-rending tone in which he called to us for water, or to kill him, I shall never forget. He lay alone, and we were in motion, and could give him no succour. When we arrived near the dis The French army not thinking it prudent to attack the well-chosen and comfited and retiring Spaniards, a very nowell-fortified lines of the British troops, ble looking young Spanish officer rode up which so skilfully defended Lisbon, and brave anxiety, to explain to the Ento me, and begged me with a sort of proud was at length obliged in its turn to re-glish, that his countrymen were ordered to treat, and was followed into Spain by retire, but were not flying." the united forces of the English and Portuguese. We cannot but admire the amiable spirit of our young soldier, ever studious to record all that is good of others, whether it is found in a foreigner, or even in an enemy. In a skirmish a young French officer was taken prisoner. A flag of truce brought him some baggage and money.— "The trumpeter, who accompanied the flag, was a vieux moustache, of about forty, with the cheverons of twenty years' service on his atm. This man rode up to the young officer, and cordially grasping his hand, put into it a purse of money, and rode off. The purse, found, had been made up among the privates of the compagnie d'elile, who had charged the old trumpeter with its delivery.” An animated description is given of the Battle of Albuera: we shall not follow him through either the disposi tion of the troop, or the details of the action, but select those passages which seem best calculated to convey some idea of what takes place on the field of action. Speaking of one of the British brigades which was engaged on this occasion, our author observes "I saw it at three in the afternoon :-a captain commanded the brigade; the fifty-seventh and forty-eighth regiments were commanded by lieutenants, and the junior captain of the twenty-ninth regiment was the senior effective officer of his corps. Not one of these six regiments (which formed the brigade) lost a man by the sabre or the lance; they were never driven, never thrown into confusion; they fought in line, sustaining and replying to a heavy fire, and often charging; and when the enemy at length fled, the standards of these heroic battalions flew in proud, though mournful triumph, in the centre of their weakened but victorious lines." "I remember well, as we moved down in column, shot and shell flew over and "The coolest and bravest soldier, if he be in the heat of it, can make no calculation of time during an engagement. Interested and animated, he marks not the flight of hours." Our author's own regiment was now brought forward to the scene of action. a "To describe my feelings throughout this wild scene with fidelity would be im possible: at intervals, a shriek or groan told that men were falling around me; but it was not always that the tumult of the contest suffered me to catch these sounds. A constant falling to the centre of the line, and the gradual diminution of our front, more truly bespoke the havoc of death. As we moved, though slowly, yet ever little in advance, our own killed and wounded lay behind us; but we arrived among iards who had fallen in the first onset: we those of the enemy, and those of the Spantrod among the dead and dying, all reckJess of them. But how shall I picture the British soldier going into action? He is neither heated by brandy, stimulated by the hope of plunder, nor inflamed by the deadly feelings of revenge; he does not even indulge in expressions of animosity against his foes; he moves forward confident of victory, never dreams of the possi bility of defeat, and braves death, with all the accompanying horrors of laceration and torture, with the most cheerful intrepidity. Enough of joy and triumph. The roar of the battle is hushed; the hurry of action is over; let us walk over the corpse-encumbered field.-Behold thousands of slain, thousands of wounded writhing with anguish, and groaning with agony and de spair. Move a little this way; here lie four officers of the French hundreth, all corpses. Why, that boy cannot have numbered eighteen years. Here fought the third brigade; here the fusileers: how thick these heroes lie! most of the bodies are already stripped; rank is no longer distinguished.Here charged the Polish lancers; not long ago, the trampling of horses, the cry, the prayer, the death-stroke, all mingled their .wild sounds on this spot; it is now, but for a few fitful and stifled groans, as silent as the grave.Who are these, that catch every moment at our coats, and cling to our feet in such an humble attitude? The wounded soldiers of the enemy, who are imploring British protection from the exasperated and revengeful Spaniards. What a proud compliment to our country!" "Some readers will call this scene romantic, others disgusting: no matter; it is faithful; and it would be well for kings, politicians, and generals, if while they talk of victories with exultation, and of defeats with philosophical indifference, they would allow their fancies to wander to the theatre of war, and the field of carnage." "I again went down to that part of the field which was covered with the slain; they lay ghastly and unburied here and there,indeed, you might remark a loose made grave, where some officers or soldiers had been to perform an act of private friendship. I was much struck with one affecting though simple proof of the attachment of our Peninsular allies: the hands of vast numbers of the British corpses had been clasped together in the attitude of prayer, and placed by the Spaniards in the manner they superstitiously imagine it important to lay out their dead." "It was a strange thing to see, in the crowded wards of the hospitals, English and French soldiers lying helplessly side by side, or here and there performing little kind offices for each other with a willing and cheerful air. Their wants and thoughts they communicated to each other in phrases of Spanish." "In the French column one of the regiments was numbered 34; in the British column also the 34th regiment led the pursuit, and got quite mixed with the enemy. Several of the French officers as they tendered their swords, embraced the officers of the English 34th, saying- Ah! Messieurs, nous sommes des frères, nous sommes du trente-quatrième régiment tous deux.'-' Vous êtes des braves. Les Anglais se battent toujours avec loyauté, et traitent bien leurs prissoniers.'- Ah! Messieurs, la fortune de la guerre est bien capricieuse.' Under any circumstances, however unfortunate, this people will find some method of disarming wrath, courting favour, and softening their fate :-they have spirits, too, wonderfully elastic, and have the readiest ingenuity in framing excuses for any disaster or disgrace which may befal them. I was on duty over the prisoners a few days after this affair: at the close of the day's march, a chapel was allotted to them for the night; and to have seen them take possession of it, one really would have thought that they were still marching free and in arms they entered it,singing Grenadiers, ici; grenadiers, ici ;-voltigeurs là là; voltigeurs là là;' and ran tumultuously, the grenadiers to the altar, and the voltigeurs to the gallery. In ten minutes all were at home; some playing cards, some singing, some dancing: here a man was performing punch behind a great coat with infinite drollery there again, quieter men were occupied in repairing their clothes or shoes; while in one part of the chapel, a self-elected orator was addressing the group on their late capture, in such terms as, 'Messieurs, vous n'êtes pas déshonorés.-On nous a trompé, cet espion, cet Espagnol, nous a vendu.'- Et comment! qui vous a dit cela ?' said a rough voice. Monsieur,' replied my orator, vous me permettez de savoir. Je suis de Paris même, et je connois la guerre.' This speech was highly approved; for several vociferated- Ah! oui, il a raison, nous avons été vendus par ce vilain espion.' 'Nous aurions battu les Anglais dans une affaire rangée, mais certainment,' said my little Parisian; and just then, the rations making their appearance, they all hurried to the door, and singing some song, the chorus of which was 'Bonne soup, bonne soup,' they eagerly took their meat, and set about preparing it." "I should lose sight, however, of the French military character, if I omitted to notice that several of the sergeants and old soldiers, who were decorated, and wore the cheverons of service, appeared exceedingly sulky, and vented their anger in a sort of muttering, smothered swearing. Those who have seen a ferocious Frenchman utter from between his closed teeth his favourite oath, will agree that there are few things more savage and offensive." One can hardly read the above description of the French prisoners, without being reminded of Voltaire's satire upon his countrymen, when he said they were compounded of the monkey and the tiger. At this juncture our young traveller was recalled, to his great regret, to England. In his journey from the army to Lisbon he met with a scene in a peasant's cottage, in which he had taken refuge for the night, which he has described with his usual felicity in these kinds of narrations. "The family consisted of a venerable old peasant, his daughter, (a woman of about thirty-four,) and her five children; the eldest a most beautiful girl of sixteen, and the youngest a fine black-eyed boy of eight. The husband of this woman was absent on a journey; the old peasant was not within; and, when we first entered, the mother and her children were at supper ;they pressed us to partake of it; we declined, but procured from them some fine rich goat's milk; and boiling it up with bread of Indian corn, made an excellent meal. It was late when the old man came in from his labour; he expressed great delight at our having rested in his cot, as he said there was no house within two leagues of that spot, the night dark and stormy, and the road bad and dangerous. A small wooden bowl of vegetable soup was brought him for his supper; he crossed himself, and said a short grace; but my astonishment was not a little excited by observing that, during the whole time he was eating his frugal meal, the family stood up, and with their hands closed and lifted up, and their eyes raised towards the crucifix, prayed, not with extravagant fervour, nor as if it were a tame, unmeaning form, but with much natural feeling, and seemed to invoke blessings on the head of this the respected elder of the cottage. The old man, too, however habitual it might be, appeared deeply impressed with the ceremony, and took his food with a sort of quiet, solemn thankfulness. When we lay down for the night, all the children knelt at the feet of their grandfather, and received his blessing, sealed by him with a kiss upon their young foreheads. I slept with a sort of sweet and superstitious confidence under this roof; so much and so pleasingly had I been affected by the simplicity of manners among its poor contented inmates." The attachment which this amiable officer had conceived for the Peninsula, made the remarks which he heard at home very painful to him, and gave rise to the following animated eulogium of Spanish valour. "No! the efforts of the Spaniards to deliver themselves from the yoke of France must never be forgotten; and no man of generosity or of candour would willingly cast a shade over their heroic exertions. They had no government, no ministers, no generals; yet under all these disadvan tages they ever remained true to the cause; and it is to their partial and continual struggles against the French detachments scattered over the face of their country, that we are indebted for our ultimate success.I Had not the force of the enemy been so constantly employed, and their communications so often menaced by the active hatred of the Spanish people, it is vain to suppose that even the ability and genius of a Wellington, or the discipline and intrepidity of a British army, (which how ever excellent in composition was numerically feeble,) could have long resisted the combination of eight marshals of France, and the efforts of 200,000 soldiers." Upon his return to the Continent, as he traversed Portugal and part of Spain to rejoin the army, he thus feelingly describes the scene. "Not a town or a village had I passed from Lisbon, but affecting traces of the invasion of this smiling country were every where to be seen. Cottages all roofless and untenanted; the unpruned vine, growing in rank luxuriance over their ruined walls ;neglected gardens; the shells of fine hou ses, half destroyed by fire; convents and churches, too solid to be demolished, 48 ATHENEUM VOL. 1. 2d series. standing open and neglected, with the ornamental wood or stone work which once adorned them broken down and defaced; all proclaimed silently, but forcibly, that Í was travelling through a country which had been the theatre of war, and exposed to the ravages of contending armies. Such scenes make the Briton, while he sighs over the miseries of the peaceful citizens, and laborious peasants, whose towns and villages have been thus visited by violence and rapine, offer up many a grateful prayer for the secure and heaven-defended position of his happier countrymen." Lord Wellington, from the want of co-operation in the Spanish forces, was again obliged to fall back upon Portugal, and wait for another campaign to crown him with those laurels which he had already so well deserved, but which are rarely bestowed excepting in the case of success. In this retreat our troops suffered severely. "On our march we were deluged with rain; the roads were deep and miry, and we had repeatedly to ford rivers and streams some of which were breast high. In our bivouacking, the ground was soaked, no dry wood to be had, and our fires, if any, were smoky and cheerless. In addition to this, we were miserably provided, having neither bread, biscuit, nor flour.* Lean bullocks, which travelled with us, were daily slaughtered, as we halted; and putting your miserable ration on a stick, or on the point of your sword, you broiled it on wood ashes and ate it greedily, half smoked, and half raw, with knife, fork, or any conveniences; the whole of our baggage having of course preceded us." The following spring, our army, commanded by their noble general, entered upon its last and triumphant march through Spain. As we have already given many similar extracts to our readers, we will not detain them in this route; but only remark, that in the quick progress which the troops now made through the very heart of the country, our intelligent, observant traveller lost no opportunity of acquiring information, and deriving useful knowledge from every thing around him.- * "Such was the scarcity of bread, that a paymaster who lost our column, and was wandering for two days on another road, overtook a Spanish peasant journeying with his wife and children; and seeing a loaf of bread, he begged to purchase it, but the man refused to sell it. Faint and almost wild with hunger, he pulled out a doubloon, and offered it as the price of the loaf, but the man still declined, saying pithily, 'My little ones cannot eat gold.'there is nothing gold cannot buy!" What a lesson for the pampered citizen who thinks |