Chapter V: Appendix (4)

Hereafter I shall probably wish to adhere to General Moore, who has
intimated a disposition entirely friendly to me. But I cannot help
hoping to spend the greater part of the winter with you--a hope,
however, too flattering to be implicitly trusted. I heard, by means
of Colonel Campbell, the valuable intelligence that you were all
well on the 12th November. As I trust we shall meet very soon I
need not lengthen this letter, farther than to say how much I am,
my dearest Dad, your ever most affectionate

CHARLES.

_P.S._--There is not such an air of happiness in this letter as
my situation may be supposed to inspire. The fact is, I fear
giving myself too much up to certainty which may possibly forerun
disappointment.--Adieu.

LETTER FROM LIEUT. CHARLES BOOTHBY TO SIR JOHN MOORE

SUDBURY, _March 1808_.

DEAR SIR--I did myself the honour to wait upon you in London, and
trust that you will allow me to say by letter what I would have
expressed in conversation.

I experienced with much regret the breaking up of that army in
which I felt so fortunately situated and befriended by you. But I
do not despair of being again under your command, which is my first
wish, and have only to fear the being sent out of the way before
anything should occur.

As your kindness on that head, as on all others, left me nothing
to desire, I am anxious to state that my wish to belong to an army
of which you have the command is entirely independent of any hopes
I might suffer to arise in consequence of your late disposition to
indulge my wishes and promote my advantage, and that I shall ever
esteem myself sufficiently fortunate to meet with active practice
in my own particular profession under your auspices in any part of
the world. I found my father and family here on a visit to Lord
Vernon. I delivered your message, which gave him much pleasure,
and he is highly gratified to find himself remembered by your
kindness to me.--I have the honour to be, dear sir, with great
respect, your very obedient, obliged, and humble servant,

CHARLES BOOTHBY.

I had not long to wait before this letter was answered by a summons to join the expedition to Sweden, under Sir John Moore, and by the 15th April I was in London preparing for departure.

BLENHEIM HOTEL, BOND STREET, LONDON,
_April 27, 1808_.

EVER DEAREST DAD--I feel conscious from your letter that you
have not much spirits to spare. Whatever hurts you, goes to the
quick with me also. But God did not mean us to be perfectly happy
here, and I hope that we jog on towards the next place with as
comfortable prospects as our neighbours.

If from any want of efficiency on my part, it were your business
to prescribe my motions, you would (however disagreeable to your
affections) direct me as I am now going. The rage that pervades the
youth of blood to go with General Moore exceeds anything I ever
heard of, and many suicides are expected in consequence of rejected
applications.

I pray God to bless you all, and me, in such a return as lately
gladdened my heart.--Your ever most affectionate

CHARLES.

* * * * *

BLENHEIM HOTEL, BOND STREET, LONDON,
_April 29, 1808_.

EVER DEAREST DAD--I hope it will not be a great disappointment
to you not to find me in London, as I was peremptorily obliged to
leave on the 30th.

I would have done anything to save you a disappointment. But for
myself, I should have had no pleasure in the meeting unless you
were merry, and much pain at parting if you were sad.

Your remittance was very convenient and sufficient, and I am not in
want of anything.--Ever dearest Dad, yours,

C.

* * * * *

SHEERNESS, _May 6, 1808_.

The ships are under way and bound for Yarmouth. Thence I suppose to
Gothenburg. Perhaps I shall see Sir Brooke in my rambles.

* * * * *

YARMOUTH, _May 9, 1808_.

We arrived in the roads this morning, and I have just come on
shore for an hour to get a few things that are wanting, as a fine
fair breeze is to be taken advantage of immediately, and I hope to
see Gothenburg in less than a week. General Moore is on board the
_Mars_, and not an officer is to be seen on shore, as the Fleet is
to sail at three o’clock.

* * * * *

_Amity Brig, May 10._

Got under way at 4 o’clock P.M. Wind blowing towards evening with
rain, and threatened a gale; moderated again, and the moon rose in
unclouded majesty.

Fine clear night. List of men-of-war of the convoy. _Mars_ 74,
_Audacious_ 74, _Tigress_ 16, ---- 16, and _Piercer_.

* * * * *

_Friday 13._--All last night hazy weather, moderate breezes; in the morning thick fog--so thick that not a ship in the Fleet could be discovered except at intervals, although the voices of the people aboard could be distinguished.

The faint form of the ships, at times in the fog, had rather a sublime appearance. The Commodore was on our starboard beam, which we knew by his occasionally firing guns of guidance; the sound was very near, but the flash could not be perceived. About twelve o’clock he made a signal to alter the course, and at two o’clock he made another signal, and we had some anxiety lest a mistake should make us lose the Fleet.

At about three o’clock, however, the fog cleared away, and discovered the Commodore close on our larboard-quarter, steaming the same course with us, some thirty or forty miles from the coast of Jutland.

These Baltic fogs are extremely unpleasant, and lie chiefly on the shoal called Jutland Reef. The vessel was obliged to be constantly beating drums and ringing bells, lest some other ship should come upon her unknowingly, from the perfect obscurity in which we were involved.

_Tuesday, May 17._--Wind blowing very fresh and a heavy sea. At a quarter before three had Gothenburg on the lee beam. At half-past three pilot came on board, at four anchored near Elfsborg Castle; experienced much pleasure from the force of contrast--coming at once from very rough sea-weather into harbour, and leaving the waves in the lurch.

Aspect of Gothenburg Harbour very wild and bleak.

_Wednesday 18._--May go on shore, but not to sleep. Mr. Hindmarsh takes us in his boat and we land at Tod’s Quay.

After entering the gates of Gothenburg, we went into a shop to inquire for an inn, and found a very pretty boy translating English into Swedish. His book was entitled _Village Dialogues_. He spoke English very well, and also French and German, and was exceedingly modest and well-behaved. His father stood by, and contemplated the acuteness of his son with delight, pleased to find that he could make Englishmen understand him.

We proceed, meet a gentleman, and ask for an inn where a dinner might be got.

“’Twas a shocking place,” he said, but told us of an hotel. I then asked where I could hear of foreigners who might be in Gothenburg. “Did not know. Who did I want?” “Sir Brooke Boothby.”[15] Had seen him that morning; showed me where he lived--“_Not at home_.” Go to dine at Eryxon’s and find party of officers. After dinner go again to call on my uncle (Sir Brooke Boothby), whom I had not seen for nine years. We were delighted to see each other; had tea, walked to Tod’s Quay, embarked at nine, and was on board at 11 P.M.

General Stewart is the kindest creature in the world. He went the other day to ask the General (Sir John Moore) to appoint me his aide-de-camp, as the brigadier-generals were to be allowed them; but General Moore’s answer was, that he intended me for himself.

If the General has an opportunity of putting his intentions into execution, I shall have the situation which I wish for more than any other in the Army. But my mind misgives me that we shall come home without achieving or seeing anything.

_Sir Joshua Reynolds._

PENELOPE BOOTHBY.

Born 1785. Died 1791.

_Only Child of Sir Brooke Boothby, Bart._]

My uncle has introduced me to the best society here. We went to a ball on board the _Victory_ the other day, and the prettiest lady said to me in very pretty broken English, “Wan I dance wid you, sair, I will assure you dat I wish we dance de whole long of de sheep”; and when the two dances were over, she said, “Sair, I tank you; I will assure you it is de plaisantess dance I dance to-day.” Seeing me smile she added, “You not belief it. Ah! it is true!” I went simpering up to another lady and said, “What a very fine day, ma’am, for our party.” She curtseyed, and uttered from her throat with a smile, “Bakkelseg Morgon Vakka Thikka Pukk,” and so I simpering replied as if I understood her, “Yaw, yaw, Pukk,” bowed and went away.

_June 14, 1808._--Agree with Wilmot, Sandham, and Foster to go to Trollhättan, and on Friday, 17th, at 5 A.M. start in two gigs with two horses each, arriving at half-past one, after a pleasant journey of fifty-two miles, stopping an hour on the road. The waterfall fell below my expectations, although it be terrible to stand close beside an enormous body of water in motion so rapid; but the view from below is much less grand and astonishing than I can conceive a cataract to be, nor do I think my ideas of the tremendous much invigorated or more defined than they were before, and as a proof that the cataract did not fill or satisfy the mind, I observed, that on beholding it, I ever cast my eyes to the lofty precipice on the right, saying to myself, “Oh, that it came tumbling over that!” The canal was just what I expected, and a most laudable work.

_June 19._--Start for Ström at four. This road offers to the eye of the traveller much picturesque beauty. A great part of it lies as if through a beautiful English park, and from the excellence and trimness of the road and culture of the verdure you imagine yourself in some studied approach to a great man’s house, while the beautiful gleams of the romantic Gotha, seen through the trees, make you exclaim, “Happy he whose eye is frequent on such a prospect.” The Gotha is an exquisitely beautiful river: its waves are true silver and azure; its banks are green, enamelled with flowers, embossed with dwellings, and feathered with woods; and its stately windings are frequently caught through an irregular perspective colonnade of the trunks of trees, while their beautiful foliage embowers you above, and calms and attunes your mind to the beauties of the farther prospect. Its vessels never overpower it (I mean as landscape), that is to say, you never think of a crowd of masts, of coals, of bawlings, of canals, and all the horrors of navigation.

A graceful sail now and then glides swiftly through the trees, or dimples the silver surface, the here-and-there cascade having eminent beauty, deserving of notice; and the cultivated fields enwrapping the hills.

The skirts of the vast cataracts at Trollhättan, and indeed at Edet, are applied to the sawing of timber; and in various parts of Sweden the sledgehammer is raised, the borer driven, and the polisher whirled by the same perpetual power.

_Thursday, June 30._--Sir John Moore embarked last night. Learn that he had been a prisoner at Stockholm, and had made his escape. See General Stewart; learn that the point in dispute between the General and the King[16] had been the attack upon Norway, which His Majesty had stated was impossible, but in a subsequent conversation, being reminded of this statement, he denied it in the most positive terms.

The General said, “Not only I, but Colonel Murray, heard you; but if your Majesty says you did not say so, I must have misunderstood you.”

The King accuses him of disrespect--in a rage.

Sir John, to pacify, concedes so far as to say he will wait for further despatches, but on going home and reflecting, finds his instructions too positive to admit of it, and apprises the King that he must depart from the country.

The King sends to him in the middle of the night to say that he must not leave Stockholm without his permission.

The General immediately despatches a messenger to embark every part of the army, and remonstrates upon the detention. No answer; but the next day a repetition of prohibition arrives.

Sir John takes a drive in the curricle of the Secretary of Legation beyond the first stage, where he is taken up in his plain clothes by a messenger, who, with his courier’s pass, gets along uninterrupted. He arrived at Gothenburg on Wednesday, 29th June, and pushed off for the _Victory_. Only the Admiral knew him.

_Saturday, July 2._--The General desires to see Burgoyne and me immediately, and we go on board the _Victory_.

Sir John Moore informs us that the Admirals, particularly Keats, are anxious about the little island of Sproe in the Great Belt, upon which during winter the French might establish themselves, and harbour gunboats, to the annoyance of the passage in summer.

The French had designed to possess it, and built a barrack on it, and there is a probability that next winter they may complete their design, which formerly they began too late.

The Admirals desire to forestall the enemy, and I must go to see if the nature of the island and our means admit of such a defence being established before the necessary departure of the Fleet. The British have destroyed the barrack made by the French, so that barracks, storehouses, etc., for the troops must be established, as well as fortifications.

_Sunday, July 3._--Get up at 3 A.M.; pack. At four pilot comes on board. Fleet gets under way. At seven Admiral sends on board and takes me away.

Go on board the SUPERB. No instruments, no colours. Apply to be sent on board the _Victory_ to see Sir John Moore. Sir John comes up himself to take me to the Admiral’s breakfast. General Stewart brings instructions; Admiral very civil.

Sail with a convoy of merchantmen and the _Etna_ towards the Belt. The army leaves for England.

_July 5._--Heavy foggy weather with rain; coast of Jutland in sight.

_July 6._--Came in sight of Sproe. Next morning I go on shore with surveying implements, half survey it, and next day complete survey. _Superb_ in sight. As I go on shore in the afternoon, I receive a note from Admiral Keats to breakfast with him, and come again on board the _Superb_. Takes me altogether into the cabin. I enlarge my scale of plan, and prepare it for the field.

_Sunday, July 10._--_Victory_, _Edgar_, and _Cruizer_ in sight, entering the Belt. Admiral Keats takes me a _divil_ of a row to meet the _Superb_. Captain Graves dines there, and begs the boys to go on shore. Joey Easterbrook prefers it to the Admiral’s dinner. Poor FitzClarence left behind. “It was a cruel thing,” he said. After dinner ye Admiral, Captain Graves, and myself, go on shore. Boys shoved off ere our arrival. Admiral snuffs the green air; walk over the ground, gather wild spinach, return on board. The youngsters were in dismay! The Captain’s Newfoundland dog Tigress having run down a sheep, which had taken refuge in the sea, they feared it would be laid to them, but they had neatly skinned it, and hoped their mess would benefit by it. Little rascals! The Admiral, from prudential motives, took particular care that they should not taste it.

Dear little Georges begged the officer on deck to let him put me on board the _Brunswick_. This began our friendship. He put me on board, I having agreed with Admiral Keats that, as I should finish with the island to-morrow, I should again come on board the _Superb_.

_Tuesday, July 12._--This day drew up my report. Ships weigh, and anchor again.

_July 19._--Desired by Sir James to travel in plain clothes. Make necessary change. Signal made, “Send Mr. Boothby on board the _Swan_ cutter immediately. Make haste.”[17]

Sit down in the cabin with a party of particular friends. Georges in the chair, Lord Bury on my right hand, little Johnny Russell over against me. Boat ready; cutter waiting. Take an affectionate leave of my friends, Georges, Lord Bury, and Johnny, and part from Admiral Keats in the kindest manner; indeed, his behaviour and friendly conduct had quite attached me to him.

When taking leave of the wardroom officers I am entreated below to wine, steadily refuse, but Captain Jackson being gone with the Admiral, Mr. Crowe, the first lieutenant, orders me to be carried below, upon which officers, youngsters, and marines surround me, and spite of a strenuous resistance, carry me bodily by neck and heels into the wardroom, where I drink adieu.

Sent on board the _Admiral_ to receive more despatches. Get on board the cutter; nasty odious little thing. Pass close under the _Superb’s_ stern. All hands crowd the poop, and actively wave me many farewells.

Wind foul; go to bed.

_July 20._--Wind still fouler. Change our tack, and at length conceive hopes of arriving at Ystad, a pretty-looking town as seen from the distance; but nothing can be more park-like and beautiful than the shores of the Great Belt.

Get on shore about 5 P.M. Sailors take up my baggage. Go to the inn. Mr. Lucas brings Mr. Strom (clerk to an Ystad merchant), who undertakes my passports, horses, etc. Asking about Swedish travelling, it appears that robbing or breach of trust are species of dishonesty unknown to the Swedes. Send my baggage off at ten, start at eleven. No moon, good horses. As I go along, astonished to see the sea on my right hand. “How the devil,” said I, “can this be?”

The sea, in or out of sight, must be to the left hand. But still I saw the sea approaching even to the edge of the road, broken by beautiful ports, isles, and rocks. “Diable,” said I, “what call you dat?” pointing to a fine harbour, embossed with islands and romantic shores. The driver looked, but returned no answer, for he saw nothing but the white mist arising from the face of the earth. The deception was complete. A bank on the left of the road obstructed my view, but on the right it commanded an extensive tract of country. The thick, white, shining mists lying in the low grounds gave them the exact appearance of water at that dusk time of night, while mountains in their range sketched out the harbours and islands which I had discovered.[18]

Overtake my baggage, and arrive.

_July 21._--At Everslip by half-past one. Dispatch the holker for horses. Go into a room in the house, like an oven; no light, but merely darkness visible; lie on a sofa; see a black many-legged reptile glide across the wall; start up and go out to meet my baggage.

Men impatient for payment. “What will you have?” “For my two horses, five dollars.” “Rascal! I will give you one and a half, which I know to be right, and a half for yourself.” “Very right, tanka,” said he. Baggage arrives--relieved.

Daylight now, as with a mantle, robed our world, and bade fictitious seas and white mists yield the deceptive mask. And now I took the reins.

Crick, crack, the horses fly,
At every click more swift they hie.

Sudden each blade of grass, each feathered shrub, gleamed golden bright, and turning to the east, the glorious orb above the hills exalted half his disk.

This morn his crimson robe he chose, translucent,
That sheds its glowing tints on every mound,
And spreads its warm refulgence o’er the ground.

Arrive at Regerberg much tired, and roost. Wait for horses; start at half-past twelve, and arrive at Glumslouf. View beautiful--wooded banks of Zealand, Copenhagen spires. Meet divers Swedish nobles; they are diverted at the manner in which I expedite the hostler. “Holker,” said I, and he looking back, I shake a bag of halfpence at him, and he runs like blazes.

Arrive at Helsingborg at five; much delighted as I approach with the view of Zealand.

The _Orion_ and _Vanguard_ and _Calypso_ in the Sound, and beautiful Cronberg Castle beyond them.

Drive to Mr. Fenwick, the British Consul, and deliver letters. He, a gentlemanlike young man, actively obliging, procures me a room, and invites me to his house. Covered with dust and sweat, I plunge delightedly, and lave my limbs, then I robe myself afresh, and freed from all my dirt, sally forth and drink tea at the Consul’s. The boat announced, we proceed on board the _Orion_, and I deliver my despatches. As Admiral Bertie is not on board, I reclaim them, and pursue him to the _Vanguard_. Return on shore, sup with Mr. Fenwick, who gives me a snuff-box. Go to bed at twelve.

_July 22, Friday._--Get up half-past 2 A.M., open the window, to find a midshipman looking for me, so I dress quick and send baggage to boat.

Admiral had said at daylight the _Calypso’s_ instructions should be perfectly ready. Get on board about four--delightful brig. Captain goes on board the _Orion_; no despatches yet. Fine breeze, which would shoot us by Cronberg Castle and the swarming gunboats, blowing to waste. At 2 P.M. calm.

Signal made by telegraph: “Come on board; bring the engineer.” So we go on board, and _Calypso_ weighs; as the breeze rises away we go; there is no firing, and we dart along.

_July 25, Monday._--Fall in with a Dutch fishing-boat and board her, and get ten or a dozen very large cod. Fish ourselves; catch numerous mackerel in a light breeze--beautiful dying--green, blue, red, and rose. Becalmed. Plumb for cod; catch plenty, very large codfish and ling, also a dogfish. Cabinetmaker begs the skin to finish off his work. This evening the sun set in unusual splendour; he sank down into a thick indigo bank, whose edges he tinged with colours dipt in heaven. Sky tinctured green, and all above was yellow golden radiance, richly fretted in vapours, which blended off to the wilder clouds in the richest roseate glow. The sea was glassy smooth, but heaved gently with majesty, in her borrowed robe of gold refulgent, while in the east a perfect bow shone in full colours, striding over heaven, an arch superb, which the reflecting waves joined underneath again, making the round complete:--

The horizon round was dim, sublime,
And wild, warm clouds mingled with ocean line.

Rain,--imperceptible breeze; slip through at four knots. 140 miles from Yarmouth.

_July 28, Thursday_, 4 A.M.--Fair wind, going nine miles per hour. Board a suspicious vessel like a French privateer and find her a Greenland schooner. Heavy rain, dirty weather, close to Norfolk coast. Anchor for the night.

_July 29, Friday_, 4 A.M.--As we were getting up anchor the fog came on very thick. And though the wind at length relents, the envious fog still obscures the entrance to port; as it clears away we weigh anchor about 1 P.M., at which time I land, having preceded in the gig with Captain Bradby.

I wait upon Admiral Douglas, and hear that Sir J. Moore is at Portsmouth and expected to sail hourly. After this very fretful. Go on board again to make distribution of bag, but return immediately and get on shore half an hour before the mail starts. Take my place. In the mail are two men in coarse jackets and trousers, just escaped from France, having broken their parole. The joy of having escaped seemed entirely to fly away with all compunction, if indeed they had any conscience. They had undergone great hardships, so I smothered the severity of my disapprobation.

_July 30._--Go to the Blenheim Hotel, Bond Street. Find that General Moore has taken care that I shall follow him. The General invites me to breakfast to talk of my report. See Sir R. Milnes. Call on Mrs. Meynell.

_July 31._--Breakfast with General Moore. Office to-morrow. No tidings of baggage. Write letters home.

BLENHEIM HOTEL, NEW BOND STREET,
_July 31, 1808_.

MY LOUISA--First let me tell you that I am going to-morrow to
Portsmouth to join or follow Sir John Moore, so hope not to see me
just yet.

Having completed my services in the Baltic, I arrived at Yarmouth
yesterday, and hearing that Sir J. Moore only waited for a wind,
I was upon tenterhooks until in London, so half an hour after I
landed I put myself into the mail, and arrived here at nine o’clock
this morning. “Keep moving” has been for some time my motto.

Now, my own lass, have I much to discourse with thee about.
There is my journey to Trollhättan and my peregrinations in the
Baltic, my travels again through Sweden, all which, as I kept a
circumstantial journal, you shall be sure to have. The civility
and kindness of Admiral Keats, with whom I lived, made my stay
quite delightful. After I had been on board three days it was
necessary to transfer me to another line-of-battle ship, and when
I was going he told me he should be back in a few days: “And
then, if you please, you shall take up your quarters with me.”
This pleased me much, and when he did return he took me into his
cabin, and I was as happy as the day was long, although very hard
worked. He is by all the Navy esteemed now the first character in
it, and all his officers, although they dislike him, absolutely
swear by him in a professional point of view, and acknowledge
that they believe a better or more tender-hearted man does not
exist, but still he is disagreeable on duty. He, as Captain Keats,
commanded the _Superb_ in Admiral Saumarcy’s action off Algeciras,
dashed in between two Spanish three-deckers, and, giving each a
broadside, passed clear in the smoke and engaged another ship of
equal force, which he sank. Meanwhile the two Spaniards continued
by mistake to fight each other in the smoke until they both blew
up; thus by such conduct he destroyed three line-of-battle ships.
All the great folks send their sons under his charge, and admirably
kind and masterly he is with them. A son of the Duke of Clarence
is with him, a fine lad. I never saw such delightful boys. The
Admiral makes them write sham letters to him every Saturday.
My favourite, little Georges, gave an account of a sea-fight.
“My Lords,” he says, “I enclose a copy of my letter to Admiral
Easterbrooke (another monkey just like himself), and in an event
of this importance I have thought it necessary to send my first
lieutenant, Hawkins (another), to whom I refer your Lordships for
any further, etc., and beg to recommend him, etc., as an officer
of distinguished merit, etc.,” and so on.

The Admiral has a favourite little dog and a favourite cow. “I
think it very odd, Mr. Georges,” said he, “that none of you
youngsters have had the civility to write to my dog or cow; it
would do just as well to exercise you; besides, you might take a
sly fling at the Admiral.”

So next time young Georges writes:--“Dear Madam Cow,” begging her
to bestow a little of her great bag of milk on the youngsters--a
pretty broad hint to the Admiral. But what prattle is this! I
delivered my papers to the chief engineer this morning, the
originals of which are sent, I fancy, to Lord Castlereagh and the
Admiralty. My chief received me very graciously. I learned from
him with great joy that General Moore had applied to Lord Chatham
to have me follow him, and that his Lordship had acceded; but as
General Moore does not command in chief, I have no staff hopes, for
the present at least.

The people in this house speak in raptures of dearest old Dad....
Do you write by return of post, and I shall write to-morrow, and in
the meantime, my dearest Lou, Heaven have thee in its holy keeping.

CHARLES.

I breakfast with my chief to-morrow, and only wait my baggage from Yarmouth.

I think after a Spanish or Portuguese campaign I may rest a bit, and perhaps a peace will bless the world and fetter Buonaparte, for unfettered the rascal cannot be left.

_August 2._--Wretchedly fidgety about my baggage. Get a letter from Bradby telling me where to find it, as it has been delayed by the Custom House officers.

_August 4, 5 o’clock_ A.M.--Start on the stage for Portsmouth, having sent my baggage on before.

“PENELOPE” TRANSPORT (P.S.),
_August 9, 1808_.

DEAREST LOUISA--Here I am embarked, and your letters in future
had better be addressed to me with the expedition under Sir Harry
Burrard and sent to the engineers’ office.--Ever yours,

CHARLES.

_August 9, Tuesday._--N.E. Bustle aboard the _Penelope_ brig. Get on board at twelve. Get under way.

N.W. Tossing ten at night. God send a good passage. Forty-two sail, including the convoy.

_August 10, Wednesday._--Off. St. Albans barely in sight. Foul wind. At the old work--toss, tack, toss, toss, tack toss, toss tack. Stercoraceous smells under my berth; porter used to be stored there; a chance fracture stains the straw and accounts for it.

_August 12._--A very numerous fleet under the land, sailing up Channel. Breeze freshens. Cool dry weather. An Italian tailor told me to-day that the English have good pay, but that in five weeks in London he spent all he had gained in the rest of the year. When mirth sat in the heart and money lay in the pocket he could not resist it, he said; and what with dances, coaches, dresses, and feasts, guineas flew out like dust, and he was forced to come to sea again!

Breeze increased at about 11 P.M.; blew very hard; short high sea; signal to veer, and sail on starboard tack.

_August 13, Saturday_, 2 A.M.--A gale S.W. very high. Suppose at daylight he will run for Plymouth. _Rendezvous_ signal. Plymouth Sound. Anchor outside the Drake Islands at 8 P.M.

_August 14, Sunday._--Weigh and get within the bight. Write letters.

PLYMOUTH SOUND,
“PENELOPE” BRIG, _August 14_.

SWEET SISTER--Encountering a S.W. gale has led us a sad rakish
life. We were glad to put in here to-night, an operation which the
thickness of the weather rendered very bothering.

As the wind may blow contrary some time, write to me here, directed
Army under Sir H. Burrard, Plymouth, or elsewhere.

Chickens all well, but Jack and I cannot get the ducks to eat
now; they waddle about and crack their toes. Jack’s great delight
(Jack is the cabin boy, my only companion) is my solicitude about
the ducks, and I thought he never would have done laughing when I
told him to clean away some tar from the coop because it made them
sneeze; and when we turned them out to exercise the other day, one
tried to quack and could not, so Jack said, “He’s speechless,
sir.” We anchored at eight o’clock--sad, sad work. Should have been
half way to Lisbon.--Ever yours,

CHARLES.

_August 15, Monday._--French prize brought in yesterday, a fine brig of war of eighteen guns. She was in company with a corvette and another brig of equal force. They gave chase to an English twenty-gun ship, which disguised herself and stopped her way. The brig that was taken outsailed the other and began to engage the Englishman, upon which the corvette and other brig crowded sail and made off, while their more honourable companion, after fighting thirty-five minutes, was taken.

_August 19, Friday._--Wind fresh, six knots, smooth water. At evening a bird flying like a duck met the ship, and lighted on the foretopsail yard, where he began looking up and down and all about, peering, as it were, with his long flexible neck and long beak. When it became dark, Antonio, a cunning, merry Italian, went aloft to try to catch him, at which everybody cried, “Fool!”--As he perched with his face aft, the man got on the foreside the sail (they wondered how the devil he managed it), and we could see his hands glide under the yard until they laid hold of the animal, which he brought down with him upon deck, the enraged creature snapping at him all the time with great dexterity.

He was very savage and the size and colour of a large goshawk, but a much slimmer-bodied bird; his pinions, plumage, tail, and standing position of his body like a hawk; his head but very slightly deviating from the bulk of his neck; sleek appearance; his long beak hooked at the end of the upper limb; his eyes, light blue, yet wild, ardent, and piercing, were placed close to the sit of the beak; his legs short and thick, of a black colour; his feet large, long, and triangular, the webs white, and claws at the ends of the toes.

Unfortunately and thoughtlessly Antonio’s wish to have his wing cut was complied with, and he would not eat.

_August 20, Saturday._--At 6 P.M. land discovered well on the larboard bow; supposed neighbourhood of Cape Ortegal. Blowing exceeding hard, heavy sea, eight knots. Bird won’t eat.

_August 21, Sunday._--3 A.M. wind drops. Eight o’clock thick fog; not yet weathered Cape Finisterre. Having seen the land at no great distance, and the strange bird refusing all food, I proposed to liberate him, thinking that of two chances for his life that was the least desperate, namely, his being able to row to some land where he might seek his food unassisted by flight. Accordingly the string was taken from his leg and he was left at large. After walking about a bit, he came in sight of the water through the door of the gangway that had been opened for him. He immediately perched upon the edge of the vessel, looking earnestly about as if to discover land, tried his wings, seemed sensible of the defect, but at last he stooped and soon reached the water.

We had endeavoured to palliate the injury by cutting the other wing exactly in the same manner as the first, not pinioned, merely the ends of the feathers taken off. When he reached the water he rowed from the ship with amazing swiftness and began to wash himself and play with infinite delight, plunging his head into the water, and seeming in complete enjoyment. The ship was stealing on about a mile and a half an hour, and we had lost sight of the bird, when, to our great surprise, he hove again in sight, and seemed pulling after the ship as hard as he could. There was a very heavy swell, and we could see him dive up hill and down, and gain upon the ship astonishingly fast. We still could hardly think he wished to come on board again, until he came close alongside, and kept close to the gangway (where he had gone from the ship), looking up with anxiety. A man was then let down to the water’s edge, when, instead of pulling off, the bird came to him with open mouth, clapping its wings, and showed the utmost impatience to be taken up. When he came on board he was much fatigued and his plumage was wet. He still refused to eat, but a little fish and water was put down his beak, which he swallowed. He seems weak and ill, and I fear will die before we are able to relieve him. He is become tame, however, and has his liberty about the deck, and he knows he may go when he likes, which I hope comforts him. I would give two guineas at this moment (and I have but six) to restore him those bits of feathers of which he was robbed; but, at any rate, he is no longer disgusted with the nastiness of the ducks, with whom we put him at first, in hopes they might get acquainted and induce him to take pot-luck with them; but he treated them with the most scorning contempt, and seemed to think them most filthy companions, and the devotion and animation with which he cleansed himself from their filth when he got into the water was quite beautiful to see. At twelve it cleared up so as we could see the land--Cape Finisterre. Light breeze. Fog gone.

_August 22, Monday._--This morning the strange bird at four o’clock leapt again from the side and pulled from the ship with a swift and steady course until out of sight. He kept up his looks amazingly well, and probably the fish and water stuffed down his throat sustained him, and, as if aware that he had exhausted himself before, he never stayed to wash or amuse himself. Fare him well.

_August 24, Wednesday._--Fogs, foul wind, good breeze towards evening. Land ahead. Signal made for Mondego, and bear away accordingly.

_August 25, Thursday._--A nice breeze at 12 A.M. and very clear. Sandy shore, sand hills, north of Mondego. Lay to for three ships astern.

_August 26, Friday._--Breeze blowing right out of harbour. Very angry at the wind; expect not to get in to-day. At half-past nine boat alongside. Onions, pears, apples, apricots, bread. Learn from them that the great fleet is gone to Lisbon, and am then sure that we shall follow. Soon after signal to steer W.S.W.

_August 27._--Dead calm, fog, rain, heavy sea.

Foul breeze.

Sad work.

_August 31, Wednesday._--At 5 A.M. Rock of Lisbon in sight. Pass through Sir Harry Burrard’s fleet on their way to England. When we come abreast of the Rock, seven o’clock, we soon hear from the agent that the army had made a bad business of the landing, which took place on the Maer, many lives being lost. It was supposed that we were either to land in the same place, should the wind favour, or return to Mondego.

An action had taken place, in which Sir H. Burrard was in person. 5000 French taken, 800 British lost. The British forces said to consist of Sir A. Wellesley’s expedition. Stand in at ten o’clock for the Rock of Lisbon. Come in sight of the Tagus blockading fleet, under command of Sir Charles Cotton. Bring to, then go on the starboard tack, and God knows when or where we shall land. _Eurydice_ leaves us for Halifax.

_September 1._--Still tacking for Lisbon. I go on board--the commander of the convoy, Captain Mayne--_Primrose_ brig sloop.

Tell him that, being astray, I was just now particularly anxious to get to the army, as I supposed the Engineers might possibly be actively employed. He then told me that the game was up, that Junot was allowed to return to France with his troops and plunder, but that the English had told the Russian Admiral that he must either surrender or fight; that Sir J. M. and Sir A. W. were raving at Sir H. D.[19] and Sir H. B. on account of the terms allowed to General Junot, and that we should go in to-day or to-morrow. Stand out till twelve. Wind blowing very hard.

_September 2, Friday._--Signal to anchor. Beat up towards an anchorage near the Rock of Lisbon, where the _African_ and convoy had brought up last night. At nine o’clock see a Russian flag of truce go to the British Admiral.

Come to an anchor off Cascaes at two o’clock. Go on shore. See Captain M’Leod of the _Barfleur_. Find on inquiry that it is not known where the army was. It had been at Mafia, but it appeared that it was moving. The 42nd Regiment, commanded by Colonel Stirling, had taken port at Cascaes. The Colonel despaired of getting important despatches to Sir Henry, so I determined not to set out for the army until their situation is known. Write home.

OFF CASCAES, _Sept. 3, 1808_.

MY LOUISA--After the most tedious and provoking passage we came to
an anchor yesterday noon off the fortified town named in the date,
at the entrance to the Tagus. Things are in this situation, General
Junot having lost a battle, much to the glory of Sir A. Wellesley
and his army, in which the enemy were nearly two to one. Sir Henry
Dalrymple, by terms which at the first view appear unaccountably
favourable to the French, has induced him to capitulate, and he,
with his troops, are to be sent in our transport to Rochefort, and
the Russian fleet on the Tagus, we hear, is to be taken to England
under Russian colours, to await the event of negotiations with the
autocrat.

In pursuance of this treaty, Fort São Julião, and all the works and
places more remote from Lisbon, are already under English colours,
and it is expected that to-day or to-morrow the embarkation of
the French will take place. Sir Harry Burrard, they say, arrived
himself just before the action commenced, having landed at Mondego,
but left Sir A. Wellesley to carry through the plan of battle,
which was fully designed. The event was that the enemy were
amazingly beaten.

Just as the French had fallen back on their entrenchments, it is
said that intelligence was brought of Sir J. Moore having arrived
with 14,000 men, which new situation of things and proportion of
armies relatively convinced Sir Harry Burrard that the enemy must
capitulate, and although (it is said) Sir A. Wellesley did all
but _kneel_, saying that unless he was permitted to follow up the
glory of the day that of the army would be tarnished, Sir H. B.
persisted in putting a stop to hostilities, and a capitulation has
been finally entered into by which the main point is carried, but
in which the pride of the army and the wishes of the Portuguese
do hardly appear to have been sufficiently considered. The enemy
was at our feet, and after very hard fighting the army had a right
to conquest, and after being ground by their oppressors, the
Portuguese should have been allowed the natural triumph of seeing
the objects of their abhorrence humbled.

I went yesterday to Cascaes, with intent to join the army, but the
commanding officer (colonel of the 42nd) knew not where it was, and
could not forward despatches of importance to the General. To-day I
shall go to the Fort São Julião and make a stout attempt to get to
them, but all fighting is over here. Farewell, own lass.

CHARLES.

_September 3, Saturday._--_Penelope’s_ boat lands us at Fort São Julião at one o’clock. Go to Colonel Blunt (commanding 3rd Buffs). Very civil man. Sends his orderly with us to Ociras to point out the road to Cintra, where the army is. At Ociras, a mile from Fort São Julião, get animals. Arrive at the Palace of Cintra, occupied by Sir Henry Dalrymple. Get an excellent bed, the inn kept by an Irishwoman. A romantic spot. The mountains of Cintra part of the range of the Rock of Lisbon.

_September 4, Sunday._--See Squire, Lord W. Bentinck, and Burgos. Walk with Burgos towards English camp. Meet mules. Return with him and ascend the mountains of Cintra. Meet General Moore--bon! Reach the top, crowned with a convent, continuing the very highest peak of the Rock. Noble view from thence. Take many angles with a righted compass. Go west over the mountains to a reputed curiosity, which Mulcaster calls the convent of cork. Find it lined with cork--cork door and cork ceiling, etc., to keep out damp. Go into refectory; drink and eat. Table hewn out of the top of an enormous pebble, whose bottom formed the ceiling of the church. Find Williams and Drevil at the inn, having come from Sir A. W.’s army. Williams and I sleep at the inn. In the morning army to move towards Fort São Julião.

_September 6._--Dine with General Moore--bon! Ordered to hold myself in readiness for Elvas.

_September 10._--Buy two horses at 18 guineas each. Dine with Squire. Fletcher arrives and tells me I march at four o’clock the following day.

_September 11._--Pack up till two. Row servant. Send artificer off with baggage and start myself. Arrive at General Moore’s quarters. Go to Lisbon to embark the horses.

_September 13._--March with regiment and arrive at Vendas Novas, passing through uninteresting country. Here is a palace belonging to the Prince capable of containing 10,000 men, stables for 500 horses, adequate kitchens and water. Beastly contrived, great staring barrack rather than palace, and the French had torn down wainscoting and false doors in search of treasure.

Proceed over like country until within five miles of Montemor o Novo, when it becomes more rich and wooded; indeed, all along the beautiful foliage of the cork trees greatly relieved the sandy sterility of the way.

Arrive at Montemor o Novo. Regiment camps out. Get good billet. Wall round the castle. Examine the position. Sup and sleep excellently. Silver ewers and covers.

_September 14._--Re-examine position. Nuns of the castle send to say glad to see us. Breakfast--tea, coffee, bread, butter, honey, eggs, sweetmeats, oranges--latter sent by the nuns. The Prioress from St. Domingo--the colour of gold. Eat cakes and see the ravages of the French in search of money.

Regiment marched through this morning at five o’clock.

Start for Arrayolos, distance twelve miles.

_September 15._--Arrive at Venda do Dogue, apparently a poor farmhouse, and we found that the farmer was a Captain. I observed that the Captain was a sensible man, preferring to gain bread by open honest industry to starving his wife and family by a strained support of gentility; and on asking whether we might not venture to offer some sort of compensation for what we were supplied with, my servant told me they were the richest people in the country; that this was their place of retirement from their palace in the city! We had a sumptuous breakfast, with sweetmeats. Started at twelve and reached Estremoz at four--a walled town with a citadel. Here we find the regiment. Get a billet on Adjutant Gaze and find that the Spaniards are before Elvas. Propose to Colonel R. to go forward to reconnoitre. Regiment encamp a league beyond the town.

_September 16._--At six o’clock start for the camp, and find I had better not go forward, as Cockburn, who was gone to Lisbon, had brought intelligence that the Frenchmen had required an officer from Junot to authenticate the orders of surrender, and a suspension had been entered into between all parties for six days; also the fort had made a convention with the town--one not firing, the other not supplying or admitting the Spaniards. Therefore he thought the appearance of an Engineer might excite jealousy, etc.

Get permission to go on.

Bring Elvas and Fort La Lippe in view. Arrive at the first post of cavalry in rear of the Spanish camp. Sent from one camp to the other, till at last, about two o’clock, we reach the Colonel’s tent off Badajoz. We step into the tent and join the Colonel and other officers at dinner--a most excellent mess of rice and salt fish, in a camp kettle, and first-rate sausages. We get on most merrily. I give the health of Fernando Septimo. The jolly Colonel roars. Replies the thundering tent, and the whole camp resounds. Bon!

Conducted to the General. He doubts our errand, and bids us wait the return of a British officer from Badajoz. This was O’Brien, who had been sent on before with a communication to the fort.

We said No; if the General would not give us permission to see the batteries, we would go to Elvas.

The General’s aide-de-camp said that we could not go to Elvas because of the Convention.

I asked if there was a Spanish guard over the gates. “No.” “Then pass us through your camp.”

An officer conducted us through the greater part, and pointed out the road to Elvas and left us.

We were brought up by the advanced posts, commanded by a Colonel of Cavalry--true Spanish face. He made some difficulty, but passed us at length, and we arrived at half-past four at the gates of Elvas, where we sent in for permission to enter the town.

While we were waiting in the sun, sufficiently vexed at our occupation, up came two Spanish dragoons and said that by order of their Colonel we must go back with them.

Finding that we were two armed to two, we refused compliance with their arbitrary message; but soon four more arrived, and intimated that they were prepared to enforce it. I then desired that we might wait the answer from within the town, Bernardo damning them into compliance. The gates at length opened, and a Portuguese officer and guard appeared, when we were admitted in pomp, and the poor dragoons refused a hearing. We said we were far from wishing them to enter, and Bernardo set up a loud laugh. We then went to the General, who took us to the Bishop--a good man, trembling at the critical situation of his town.

I explained what had happened, and he rather wished our return. I said we could go there to-morrow on our way home.

He then offered us his country house, and we were taken to the Junta, of which the Bishop is the head, and it was resolved there that we should stay. The Bishop told them what I had told him, that there was no doubt of the French surrendering the town, because the whole French army was in our power, and it would ruin them if the Convention was broken. Lodge at the house of a jolly, hospitable Major de bon Cœur.

_September 17._--Start for the Spanish camp at nine o’clock, having procured credentials from the Judge. Visit the cavalrymen’s tent. Nothing passes about yesterday. Rains excessively hard. Conducted to the General; find O’Brien there. Now well received. Get permission to see the batteries--four 24-pounders and 6 guns,--and am set down to a ham, the finest I ever tasted.

Return to Estremoz. I, a Christian, talk much by the way to O’Brien, a sceptic. Agree on poetry. Lose our way five times. Pass through Borba, the prettiest Portuguese place yet seen. Arrive at Estremoz, and get some dinner at Colonel R.’s.

_September 18, Sunday._--Seek for breakfast. Find in a coffee-house a nauseous party of Portuguese officers, who gamed and drank and smoked and stank. The dignified commander of cavalry--a yellow individual covered with dirt and stars--undertook to ask for what we wanted, as he spoke French. I told him we wanted bread, honey, coffee, and boiled eggs. I watched his interpretation to the women. He said these gentlemen want “bread, honey, coffee, and eggs, all boiled together,” to explain which he made a motion with his hand to stir it about. The woman looked petrified, and we roared, and the cavalier was confounded. Swallow our breakfast. Get another billet.

Colonel R. has a field day in the square, to show the people how to do it, which went off admirably.

_September 19._--Colbourn returns at 5 A.M. with a French officer, a nice little fellow with a red face, much tired by attending Colbourn’s rapid steps from Lisbon. We arrived at the camp, and at the General’s found some difficulties--no admittance to the fort without communicating with Badajoz. A messenger was despatched, and we said we would go to Elvas. That could not be permitted. They begged we would remain with the General until the return of the messenger, which would be at six o’clock. Colbourn said first of all, “Very well”; but upon consulting, we agreed it would be better to go to a village about a league off and return at six. We communicated this to the A.D.C., who seemed much troubled, and said his General understood we should remain, and would be much better pleased if we did.

“But we have changed our minds.”

“Ah! but I don’t know whether the General will permit it.”

“What! would he keep us prisoners here?”

“Oh, no.”

Upon which he ran to the General and returned with answer, “That we must do as we pleased.”

We then went to a house about a league off, ate some bread and fruit, and returned at 6 P.M. to find the messenger not returned, nor post horses from Elvas arrived.

The having the French officer with us in the Spanish camp, where every one was ready to cut his throat, gave us some uneasiness, for we witnessed in the Spanish, officers and all, a hatred not to be overcome for a moment. The Adjutant-General came to me and whispered, “Is that an Englishman?” “No,” said I, “French.” He started away, and the effect it had on him immediately called to my mind the case of a man with hydrophobia at the sight of water. They would offer him nothing to eat, although they saw him sinking for want of refreshment and rest. So whatever they gave us we offered to him before we would touch it. Even the old cook who filled my glass with a smiling face settled his countenance into a solemn gloom as he transferred the mouth of the bottle to the Frenchman’s cup.

This sort of thing made us determine to decline the entreaty of the General and to sleep in a small town called Bersim, in which Colbourn knew a house where our charge would be secure.