Chapter 11: The French Advance.

As there were no signs of any French force approaching the position held by the Portuguese, Terence moved his regiment a short distance forward, to a point which enabled them to obtain a view right down the valley in which the conflict was taking place. He then allowed them to fall out of their ranks; knowing that in less than a minute from the call being sounded they would be under arms again, and in readiness to move in any direction required. Then, with Herrara and his three English officers, he moved a short distance away and watched the scene.

As soon as Regnier's columns had crossed the bottom of the ravine, their guns along the crest opened fire on the British position facing them.

"They are too far off for grape," Terence said. "You remember, Ryan, at Corunna, how those French batteries pounded us from the crest, and how little real damage they did us. A round shot does not do much more harm than a bullet, unless it strikes a column in motion, or troops massed in solid formation.

"Those fellows are mounting the hill very fast."

"They are, indeed," Ryan agreed. "You can see how the line of smoke of our skirmishers on the hillside gets higher and higher."

"I wish our regiment was there, Colonel," Bull said. "We might do some good; while here we are of no more use than if we were a hundred miles away."

"No, no, Bull, that is not the case. If the French had not seen that this position was strongly held, they might have moved a division by this road and, if they had done so, they would have turned the main position altogether, and forced Wellington to fall back, at once. So you see, we are doing good here; though I do not say that I should not like to be over there."

"The French will soon be at the top of the hill," Herrara exclaimed. "See how they are pushing upwards."

"They certainly are gaining ground fast," Macwitty said. "They are within a hundred yards of the top. Our men don't seem to be able to make any stand against them at all.

"Colonel, the lower column is turning off more towards their left."

"They had better have kept together, Macwitty. It is evident that Picton's division is hard pressed, as it is and, if those two columns had united and thrown themselves upon him, they would have broken right through our line. As it is, the second party will have Leith's division to deal with. Do you see one of his brigades marching swiftly to meet them, and some guns sweeping the French flank? I wish we were nearer."

The scene had become too exciting for further conversation, and they watched almost breathlessly. The line of smoke on the top of the crest showed that the head of the column had made good its footing there; while the quick puffs of smoke, and the rattle of musketry, denoted that the other column was also within a short distance of the summit. But Leith's regiments were approaching the spot at the double. Presently there was the crash of a tremendous volley, and then the leading regiment disappeared over the brow of the hill, and into brushwood. The roar of musketry was heavy and continuous, and then Ryan gave a joyous shout, as it could be seen that the two long smoke wreaths were becoming mixed together, and that the movement was downwards and, ere long, the dark masses of troops could be seen descending the hill even more rapidly than they had climbed it. Leith's second brigade was now approaching the scene of the struggle, and was near at hand; Hill's division was seen in motion towards the same spot.

"That is all right now," Terence said; "but there is another big fight going on, further up the valley."

It was too far off to make out the movements of the troops but, even at that distance, the smoke rolling up from the hillside gave some idea of the course of the fight. Here, too, after mounting more than halfway up the slope, it could be seen that the tide of war was rolling down again; though more slowly, and with harder fighting than it had done in the struggle nearer to them. And when at last the firing gradually ceased, they knew that the French had been repulsed, all along the line.

"The men had better open their haversacks and eat a meal," Terence said. "We may get an order to move, at any moment."

No orders came, however, and the troops remained in the positions that they occupied until the following morning. Then a heavy skirmishing fire broke out and, for some time, it seemed as if the battle was to be renewed. No heavy masses of the French, however, came down from the hill on their side to support the light troops in the valley and, in the afternoon, the firing died away. Towards evening a staff officer rode up, at full speed, and handed a note to Terence.

"The French have turned our left by the Royalva Pass. Trant has failed to check them, and the whole army must fall back. These are your instructions."

The mishap had not been Trant's fault. He had been sent by the Portuguese general on a tremendous detour and, when he arrived at the position assigned to him, his troops were utterly exhausted by their long and fatiguing march. A large proportion had deserted or fallen out and, with but 1500 wearied and dispirited men, he could offer but little resistance to the French advance and, being attacked by their cavalry, had been driven away with loss. Terence opened the note.

"You will march at once. Keep along on this side of the Mondego, breaking up your command into small parties, who will visit every village within reach. All of their inhabitants who have not obeyed the proclamations, and retired, are to leave at once. Destroy all provisions that you can find. Set fire to the mills and, where this is not practicable, smash the machinery and, bearing south as you go, spread out over the country between the Zezere and the sea, and continue to carry on the duty assigned to you, compelling the peasants to drive their animals before them, along the roads to Lisbon."

"I understand, sir," Terence said, after reading the note, "and will carry out the orders to the best of my ability."

Five minutes later the regiment was under arms. Terence called the whole of the officers together, and explained the instructions that he had received. The two battalions were broken up into half companies which, as they marched along the Mondego, were to be left behind, one by one; each party, when left, turning south, and proceeding to carry out the orders received. In a few cases, only, were companies to keep intact as, although a hundred men would be ample for the duty at the large villages, two hundred would not be too much in a town like Leiria.

On reaching Foz d'Aronce, half a battalion moved to the east, to work down by the river Zezere. The rest turned to the right, to follow the course of the Mondego down to the sea. For convenience, and in order to keep the troops in hand, Bull, Macwitty, Ryan, and Herrara each took the command of half a battalion; with orders to supervise the work of the companies belonging to it, and to keep in touch with the nearest company of the next battalion, so that the two thousand men could advance, to a certain extent, abreast of each other.

Foz d'Aronce had already been evacuated by its inhabitants, but in all other villages the orders were carried out. By daybreak the last company in the two battalions reached the sea coast and, after two hours' rest, began its march south. The others had long been at work.

It was a painful duty. The frightened villagers had to be roused in the darkness, and told that the French were approaching, and that they must fly at once, taking their animals and what they could carry off in carts away with them. While the terrified people were harnessing horses to their carts, piling their few valuables into them, and packing their children on the top, the troops went from house to house, searching for and destroying provisions, setting fire to barns stored with corn, and burning or disabling any flour mills they met with.

Then, as soon as work was done, they forced the villagers to take the southern road. There was no difficulty in doing this for, although they had stolidly opposed all the measures ordered by Wellington, trusting that the French would not come; now that they had heard they were near, a wild panic seized them. Had an orderly retreat been made before, almost all their belongings might have been saved. Now but little could be taken, even by the most fortunate. The children, the sick, the aged had to be carried in carts and, in their haste and terror, they left behind many things that might well have been saved.

The peasantry in the villages suffered less than the townspeople, as their horses and carts afforded means of transport: but even here the scenes were most painful. In the towns, however, they were vastly more so. The means for carriage for such a large number of people being wanting, the greater number of the inhabitants were forced to make their way on foot, along roads so crowded with vehicles of every kind that the British divisions were frequently brought to a standstill, for hours, where the nature of the country prevented their quitting the road and making their way across the fields.

On the 29th, the greater portion of the British troops passed the Mondego. Hill retired upon Thomar, and the rest of the troops were concentrated at Milheada. The commissariat stores followed the coast road down to Peniche, and were embarked there. The light division and the cavalry remained, after the main body had been drawn across the Mondego, north of that river.

Soon after starting on his work, Terence learned that the British troops had passed through Pombal, Leiria, and Thomar. It was consequently unnecessary for him to endeavour to clear those towns.

The delays caused at every village rendered the work slow, as well as arduous. The French drove the light division through Coimbra and, following, pressed so hotly that a number of minor combats took place between their cavalry and the British rear guards. Before Leiria the rear guards had to fight strongly, to enable the guns to quit the town before the French entered it.

Terence presently received orders to collect his regiment again and, crossing the Zezere, to endeavour to join Trant and the other leaders of irregular bands, and to harass Massena's rear. He had already, knowing that great bodies of French cavalry had crossed the Mondego, called in the companies that were working Leiria and the coast; as they might otherwise have been cut up, in detail, by the French cavalry. With these he marched east, picking up the other companies as he went and, on the same evening, the regiment was collected on the Zezere.

Having followed the river up, he reached Foz d'Aronce and then, finding that several bodies of French troops had already passed through that village, he turned to the left and camped close to the Mondego; sending ten of his men over the river, in peasants' clothes, to ascertain the movements of the enemy. One of them returned with news that he had come upon a party of Trant's men, who told him that their main body were but two miles away, and that there were no French north of Coimbra.

The regiment had made a march of upwards of forty miles that day. Therefore, leaving them to rest, Terence forded the Mondego and rode, with Ryan, to Trant's village.

"I am glad, indeed, to see you, O'Connor," the partisan leader said, as Terence entered the cottage where he had established himself. "Is your regiment with you?"

"Yes, it is three miles away, on the other side of the river. We have marched something like eighty miles, in two days. We have been busy burning mills and destroying provisions, but the French cavalry are all over the country, so I was ordered to join you, and aid you to harass the French line of communication, and to do them what damage we could."

"There is not much to be done in the way of cutting their communications; at least, there is nothing to be done to the north and east of this place, for Massena brought all his baggage and everything else with him; and cut himself loose, altogether, from his base at Ciudad. If the people had but carried out Wellington's orders, Massena would have suffered a fearful disaster. We have learned, from stragglers we have taken, that the fourteen days' provisions with which they marched were altogether exhausted; and that they had been unable to obtain any here. They would have had to retreat, instantly; but I hear that, in Coimbra alone, there is enough food for their whole army, for at least two months."

"But could we not have destroyed it, as we retreated?"

"Of course, we ought to have done so," Trant said; "but from what I hear, the affair was very badly managed. Instead of the first division that went through burning all the magazines and stores, it was left to Crawford to do so; and he, as usual, stopped so long facing the enemy that, at last, he was regularly chased through Coimbra and, the roads being blocked with carts, his brigade would have been destroyed had the French infantry pushed strongly after him.

"Things are just as bad, in the way of provisions, on the other side of the river. We have done a great deal in the way of destroying mills and magazines. I am afraid Massena will find enough provisions to last his army all the winter."

"That is bad."

"Had it only been Coimbra, no very great harm would have been done; for the French troops got altogether out of hand when they entered, plundered the place and, as I hear, destroyed enough provisions to have lasted them a month."

"Of course, they hold the town?"

"Oh yes! It is full of their sick and wounded."

"What force have you?" Terence asked.

"I have 1500 men of my own. Miller and Wilson, with some of the Northern militias, will be here shortly; and I expect, in a few days, we shall have eight thousand men."

"The great thing would be to act before the French know that there is so strong a force in the neighbourhood," Terence said, "because as soon as they hear that, they are sure to send a strong force back to Coimbra."

"How do you mean, to act?" Trant asked in some surprise.

"I propose that we should capture Coimbra, at once. I have 2000 men and you have 1500. I don't suppose they have left above a couple of thousand in the town, perhaps even less and, if we take them by surprise, I should think we ought to be able to manage that number, without difficulty. I certainly consider my own men to be a match for an equal number of French."

"It is a grand idea," Trant said, "and I don't see why we should not carry it out. As you say, the sooner the better. They may know that I am here, but they will never dream of my making such attempt with a force which, I must own, is not always to be relied upon. They are always shifting and changing. After a long march, half of them will desert; then in a few days the ranks swell again. Consequently, the men have little discipline and no confidence in each other, and are little better than raw levies; but for rough street fighting I have no doubt they would be all right, especially when backed by good troops like yours.

"How would you proceed? As yours is the real fighting body, you should have the command."

"Not at all," Terence said warmly. "You are my senior officer, not only in rank but in age and experience. My orders were to assist you as far as I could and, while we are together, I am ready to carry out your orders in any way."

"Will your men be able to attack in the morning?"

"Certainly. They will have a good night's rest, and will be quite ready for work, say, at four o'clock in the morning. It is not more than two hours' march to Coimbra, so that we shall be there by daybreak. Have they any troops between us and the town?"

"They have a post at a village, a mile this side, O'Connor. Do you know how far their army is, on the other side of the river?"

"I know that they had a division close to Leiria, the day before yesterday; but whether they have any large body just across the Mondego, I cannot say."

"Then we will first surprise their post. I will undertake that. Will you march your force down the river, close to the town? I have a hundred cavalry and, as soon as I have captured the post, I will send them on at a gallop; with orders to ride straight through to the bridge, and prevent any mounted messengers passing across it. As soon as you hear them come along the road, do you at once enter the town. I will bring my men on at the double, and we shall not be many minutes after you.

"It would be as well for you to enter it by several streets, as that will cause greater confusion than if you were in a solid body. The principal point is the great convent of Santa Clara, which has been converted into a hospital. No doubt a portion of the garrison are there; the rest will be scattered about in the public buildings, and can be overpowered in detail.

"I think we are certain of success. I hope you will stop for a time and take supper with me and, in the meantime, I will send down orders for my men to be under arms, here, at half-past three."



Terence and Ryan remained for an hour, and then rode back to the regiment. The men were all sound asleep, but Herrara and the two majors were sitting round a campfire.

"What news, Colonel?" the former asked, as Terence rode up.

"Good news. We are going to take Coimbra, tomorrow morning. All Massena's sick and wounded, and his heavy baggage are there. They have no suspicion that any force is yet assembled in the neighbourhood and, I expect, we shall have easy work of it. They have a post a mile out of the town. Trant will surprise and capture that, at five in the morning. Just before daybreak we shall enter the town. We must march from here at half-past three."

"That is something like news, Colonel," Macwitty exclaimed. "It will cut the French off from this line of retreat, altogether, and they must either fall back by the line of the Tagus, or through Badajoz and Merida."

Terence laughed.

"You are counting your chickens before they are hatched, Macwitty. At the present moment, it seems more likely that Wellington will have to embark his troops than that Massena will have to retreat. He must have nearly a hundred thousand men, counting those who fought with him at Busaco and the two divisions that marched down through Foz d'Aronce; while Wellington, all told, cannot have above 40,000. Certainly some of the peasants told me they had heard that a great many men were employed in fortifying the heights of Torres Vedras, and Wellington may be able to make a stand there; but as we have never heard anything about them before, I am afraid that they cannot be anything very formidable.

"However, just at present we have nothing to do with that. If we can take Coimbra it will certainly hamper Massena and, if the worst comes to the worst, we can fall back across the Douro.

"Don't let the bugles sound in the morning. It is not likely, but it is possible that the French may send out cavalry patrols at night. If a bugle were heard they might ride back and report that a force was in the neighbourhood, and we should find the garrison prepared for us. Now we had better do no more talking. It is past eleven, and we have but four and a half hours to sleep."

At half-past three the troops were roused. They were surprised at the early call, for they had expected two or three days' rest, after the heavy work of the last eight days; but the company officers soon learned the news from their majors and, as it quickly spread through the ranks, the men were at once alert and ready. Fording the river, they marched at a rapid pace by the road to Coimbra and, soon after five o'clock, arrived within a few hundred yards of the town. Then they were halted and broken up into four columns, which were to enter the town at different points. The signal for moving was to be the sound of a body of cavalry, galloping along the road. Terence listened attentively for the rattle of musketry in the distance, but all was quiet; and he had little doubt that the French had been surprised, and captured, without a shot being fired.

Soon after half-past five he heard a dull sound which, before long, grew louder and, in five minutes, a body of horsemen swept past at a gallop. The troops at once got into motion, and entered the town. There was no longer any motive for concealment. The bugles sounded and, with loud shouts, the Portuguese ran forward. French officers ran out of private houses, and were at once seized and captured. Several bodies of troops were taken, in public buildings, before they were fairly awake. Some of the inhabitants—of whom many, unable to make their escape, had remained behind; or who had returned from the villages to which they had at first fled—came out and acted as guides to the various buildings where the French troops were quartered and, in little over a quarter of an hour, the whole town, with the exception of the convent of Santa Clara, was in their hands.

By this time Trant had come up, with his command. The troops rapidly formed up again and, issuing from several streets, advanced against the convent. The astonished enemy fired a few shots; then, on being formally summoned to surrender, laid down their arms. Thus, on the third day after Massena quitted the Mondego his hospitals, depots, and nearly 6000 prisoners, wounded and unwounded, among them a company of the Imperial Guard, fell into the hands of the Portuguese.

The next day Miller and Wilson came up; and their men, crossing the bridge and spreading over the country, gathered in 300 more prisoners; while Trant marched, with those he had captured, to Oporto.



On the 10th of October the whole of Wellington's army was safely posted on the tremendously strong position that he had, unknown to the army, carefully prepared and fortified for the protection of Lisbon. It consisted of three lines of batteries and intrenchments. The second was the most formidable; but the first was so strong, also, that Wellington determined to defend this, instead of falling back to the stronger line. At the foot of the line of mountains on which the army was posted, stretching from the Tagus to the sea, ran two streams; the Zandre, a deep river, which extended nearly halfway along the twenty-nine miles of lines, covered the left of the position; while a stream running into the Tagus protected the right. The centre, therefore, was almost the only part at which the line could be attacked with any chance of success; and this was defended by such tremendous fortifications as to be almost impregnable.

Massena, who had only heard vague rumours of the existence of these fortifications, four days before, was astounded at the unexpected obstacle which barred his way. The British troops, as soon as they arrived, were set to work to strengthen the intrenchments. Trees were felled, and every accessible point was covered by formidable abattis. The faces of the rocks were scarped, so that an enemy who won his way partly up the hill would find his farther progress arrested by a perpendicular wall of rock. Soon the eminences on the crest bristled with guns; and Massena, after carefully reconnoitring the whole position, came to the conclusion that it could not be attacked; and disposed his troops in permanent positions, facing the British centre and right, from Sobral to Villafranca on the Tagus; and sent his cavalry out over the country, to bring in provisions.

To lessen the district available for this operation, Wellington sent orders for the northern militia to advance and, crossing the Mondego, to drive in the foraging parties. Trant, Wilson and the other partisan corps were also employed in the work. A strong force took up its position between Castello Branco and Abrantes, while the militia and partisans occupied the whole country north of Leiria; and the French were thus completely surrounded. Nevertheless, the store of provisions left behind in the towns and villages was so large that the French cavalry were able to bring in sufficient supplies for the army.

During the week that followed, the Minho regiment was engaged in watching the defiles by which Massena might communicate with Ciudad Rodrigo, or through which reinforcements might reach him. Wilson and Trant were both engaged on similar service, the one farther to the north; while the other, who was on the south bank of the Tagus with a number of Portuguese militia and irregulars, endeavoured to prevent the French from crossing the river and carrying off the flocks, herds, and corn which, in spite of Wellington's entreaties and orders, the Portuguese government had permitted to remain, as if in handiness for the French foraging parties.

Owing to the exhausted state of both the British and Portuguese treasuries, it was impossible to supply the corps acting in rear of the French with money for the purchase of food. But Terence had received authority to take what provisions were absolutely necessary for the troops, and to give orders that would, at some time or other, be honoured by the military chest. A comparatively small proportion of his men were needed to guard the defiles, against such bodies of troops as would be likely to traverse them, in order to keep up Massena's communications. Leaving, therefore, a hundred men in each of the principal defiles; and ordering them to entrench themselves in places where they commanded the road, and could only be attacked with the greatest difficulty; while the road was barred by trees felled across it, so as to form an impassable abattis, behind which twenty men were stationed; Terence marched, with 1500 men, towards the frontier.

Five hundred of these were placed along the Coa, guarding the roads and, with the remainder, he forded the river and placed himself in the woods, in the plain between Almeida and Ciudad Rodrigo. Here he captured several convoys of waggons, proceeding with provisions for the garrison of the former place. A portion of these he despatched, under guard, for the use of the troops on the Coa, and for those in the passes; thus rendering it unnecessary to harass the people, who had returned to their villages after Massena had advanced against Lisbon.

Growing bolder with success, he crossed the Aqueda and, marching round to the rear of Ciudad Rodrigo, cut off and destroyed convoys intended for that town, causing great alarm to the garrison. These were absolutely ignorant of the operations of Massena, for so active were the partisans, in the French rear, that no single messenger succeeded in getting through and, even when accompanied by strong escorts, the opposition encountered was so determined that the French were obliged to fall back, without having accomplished their purpose. Thus, then, the garrison at Ciudad Rodrigo were ignorant both of Massena's whereabouts, and of the nature of the force that had thrown itself in his rear. Several times, strong parties of troops were sent out. When these were composed of cavalry only, they were boldly met and driven in. When it was a mixed force of cavalry, infantry, and artillery, they searched in vain for the foe.

So seriously alarmed and annoyed was the governor that 3000 troops were withdrawn, from Salamanca, to strengthen the garrison. In December Massena, having exhausted the country round, fell back to a very strong position at Santarem; and Terence withdrew his whole force, save those guarding the defiles, to the neighbourhood of Abrantes; so that he could either assist the force stationed there, should Massena retire up the Tagus; and prevent his messengers passing through the country between the river and the range of mountains, south of the Alva, by Castello Branco or Velha; posting strong parties to guard the fords of the Zezere.

So thoroughly was the service of watching the frontier line carried out, that it was not until General Foy, himself, was sent off by Massena, that Napoleon was informed of the state of things. He was accompanied by a strong cavalry force and 4000 French infantry across the Zezere, and ravaged the country for a considerable distance.

Before such strength, Terence was obliged to fall back. Foy was accompanied by his cavalry, until he had passed through Castello Branco; and was then able to ride, without further opposition, to Ciudad Rodrigo.

Beresford was guarding the line of the Tagus, between the mouth of the Zezere and the point occupied on the opposite bank by Wellington, sending a portion of his force up the Zezere; and these harassed the French marauding parties, extending their devastations along the line of the Mondego.

Although the Minho regiment had suffered some loss, during these operations, their ranks were kept up to the full strength without difficulty. Great numbers of the Portuguese army deserted during the winter, owing to the hardships they endured, from want of food and the irregularity of their pay. Many of these made for the Minho regiment, which they had learned was well fed, and received their pay with some degree of regularity, the latter circumstance being due to the fact that Terence had the good luck to capture, with one of the convoys behind Ciudad Rodrigo, a considerable sum of money intended for the pay of the garrison. From this he had, without hesitation, paid his men the arrears due to them; and had still 30,000 dollars, with which he was able to continue to feed and pay them, after moving to the line of the Zezere.

He only enrolled sufficient recruits to fill the gaps made by war and disease; refusing to raise the number above 2000, as this was as many as could be readily handled; for he had found that the larger number had but increased the difficulties of rationing and paying them.



Chapter 12: Fuentes D'Onoro.

In the early spring Soult, who was besieging Cadiz, received orders from Napoleon to cooperate with Massena and, although ignorant of the latter's plans, and even of his position, prepared to do so at once. He crushed the Spanish force on the Gebora; captured Badajoz, owing to the treachery and cowardice of its commander; and was moving north, when the news reached him that Massena was falling back. The latter's position had, indeed, become untenable. His army was wasted by sickness; and famine threatened it, for the supplies obtainable from the country round had now been exhausted. Wellington was, as he knew from his agents in the Portuguese government, receiving reinforcements; and would shortly be in a position to assume the offensive.

The discipline in the French army under Massena had been greatly injured by its long inactivity. The only news he received as to Soult's movements was that he was near Badajoz; therefore, the first week in March he began his retreat, by sending off 10,000 sick and all his stores to Thomar. Then he began to fall back. Thick weather favoured him, and Ney assembled a large force near Leiria, as if to advance against the British position. Two other corps left Santarem, on the night of the fifth, and retired to Thomar. The rest of the army moved by other routes.

For four days Wellington, although discovering that a retreat was in progress, was unable to ascertain by which line Massena was really retiring. As soon as this point was cleared up, he ordered Beresford to concentrate near Abrantes; while he himself followed the line the main body of the French army seemed to be taking. It was soon found that they were concentrating at Pombal, with the apparent intention of crossing the Mondego at Coimbra; whereby they would have obtained a fresh and formidable position behind the Mondego, with the rich and untouched country between that river and the Douro, upon which they could have subsisted for a long time.

Therefore, calling back the troops that were already on the march to relieve Badajos, which had not yet surrendered, he advanced with all speed upon Pombal, his object being to force the French to take the line of retreat through Miranda for the frontier, and so to prevent him from crossing the Mondego.

Ney commanded the rear guard, and carried out the operation with the same mixture of vigour, valour, and prudence with which he, afterwards, performed the same duty to the French army on its retreat from Moscow. He fought at Pombal and at Redinha, and that so strenuously that, had it not been for Trant, Wilson, and other partisans who defended all the fords and bridges, Massena would have been able to have crossed the Mondego. Wellington however turned, one by one, the positions occupied by Ney; and Massena, believing that the force at Coimbra was far stronger than it really was, changed his plans and took up a position at Cazal Nova.

Here he left Ney and marched for Miranda but, although Ney covered the movement with admirable skill, disputing every ridge and post of vantage, the British pressed forward so hotly that Massena was obliged to destroy all his baggage and ammunition. Ney rashly remained on the east side of the river Cerra, in front of the village of Foz d'Aronce and, being attacked suddenly, was driven across the river with a loss of 500 men; many being drowned by missing the fords, and others crushed to death in the passage. However, Ney held the line of the river, blew up the bridge, and his division withdrew in good order.

Massena tarnished the reputation, gained by the manner in which he had drawn off his army from its dangerous position, by the ruthless spirit with which the operation was conducted; covering his retreat by burning every village through which he passed, and even ordering the town of Leiria to be destroyed, although altogether out of the line he was following.

After this fight the British pursuit slackened somewhat, for Wellington received the news of the surrender of Badajoz and, seeing that Portugal was thus open to invasion by Soult, on the south, despatched Cole's division to join that of Beresford; although this left him inferior in force to the army he was pursuing. The advance was retarded by the necessity of making bridges across the Cerra, which was now in flood, and the delay enabled Massena to fall back unmolested to Guarda; where he intended to halt, and then to move to Coria, whence he could have marched to the Tagus, effected a junction with Soult, and be in a position to advance again upon Lisbon, with a larger force than ever. He had, however, throughout been thwarted by the factious disobedience of his lieutenants Ney, Regnier, Brouet, Montbrun, and Junot; and this feeling now broke into open disobedience and, while Ney absolutely defied his authority, the others were so disobedient that fierce and angry personal altercations took place.

Massena removed Ney from his command. His own movements were, however, altogether disarranged by two British divisions, marching over the mountains by paths deemed altogether impassable for troops; which compelled him to abandon his intention of marching south, and to retire to Sabuga on the Coa. Here he was attacked. Regnier's corps, which covered the position, was beaten with heavy loss but, owing to the combinations—which would have cut Massena off from Ciudad Rodrigo—failing, from some of the columns going altogether astray in a thick fog, Massena gained that town with his army. He had lost in battle, from disease, or taken prisoners, 30,000 men since the day when, confident that he was going to drive Wellington to take refuge on board his ships, he had advanced from that town.

Even now he did not feel safe, though rejoined by a large number of convalescents; and, drawing rations for his troops from the stores of the citadel, he retired with the army to Salamanca. Having reorganized his force, procured fresh horses for his guns, and rested the troops for a few days; Massena advanced to cover Ciudad Rodrigo, and to raise the siege of Almeida—which Wellington had begun without loss of time—and, with upwards of 50,000 men, Massena attacked the British at Fuentes d'Onoro.



The fight was long and obstinate, and the French succeeded in driving back the British right; but failed in a series of desperate attempts to carry the village of Fuentes. Both sides claimed the battle as a victory, but the British with the greater ground; for Massena fell back across the Aqueda, having failed to relieve Almeida; whose garrison, by a well-planned night march, succeeded in passing through the besieging force, and effected their retreat with but small loss, the town falling into the possession of the British.

Terence had come up, after a series of long marches, on the day before the battle. His arrival was very opportune, for the Portuguese troops with Wellington were completely demoralized, and exhausted, by the failure of their government to supply them with food, pay, or clothes. So deplorable was their state that Wellington had been obliged to disband the militia regiments, and great numbers of desertions had taken place from the regular troops.

The regiment had been stationed on the British right. Here the fighting had been very severe. The French cavalry force was enormously superior to the British, who had but a thousand troopers in the field. These were driven back by the French, and Ramsay's battery of horse artillery was cut off. But Ramsay placed himself at the head of his battery and, at full gallop, dashed through the French infantry and cavalry, and succeeded in regaining his friends.

The two battalions of the Minho regiment, who were posted in a wood, defended themselves with the greatest resolution against an attack by vastly superior numbers; until the French, advancing on each side of the wood, had cut them off from the rest of the division. Then a bugle call summoned the men to assemble at the rear of the wood and, forming squares, the two battalions marched out.

Twelve French guns played upon them and, time after time, masses of cavalry swept down on them but, filling up the gaps in their ranks, they pressed on; charged two French regiments, at the double, that endeavoured to block their way; burst a path through them, and succeeded in rejoining the retiring division, which received them with a burst of hearty cheering. Two hundred had fallen, in the short time that had elapsed since they left the wood.

Terence had been in the centre of one of the squares but, just as they were breaking through the French ranks, he had ridden to the rear face; and called upon the men to turn and repulse a body of French cavalry, that was charging down upon them. At this moment a bullet struck his horse in the flank. Maddened with the sudden pain, the animal sprang forward, broke through the ranks of the Portuguese in front of it and, before Terence could recover its command, dashed at full speed among the French cavalry. Before he could strike a blow in defence, Terence was cut down. As he fell the cavalry passed over him but, fortunately, the impetus of his charge had carried him nearly through their ranks before he fell; and the horses of the rear rank leapt over his body, without touching him. It was the force of the blow that had felled him for, in the hurry of striking, the trooper's sword had partly turned, and it was with the flat rather than the edge that he was struck.

Although half stunned with the blow and the heavy fall, he did not altogether lose consciousness. He heard, as he lay, a crashing volley; which would, he felt sure, repulse the horsemen and, fearing that in their retreat they might ride over him, trampling him to death, he struggled to his feet. The French, however, though repulsed, did not retire far, but followed upon the retreating regiment until it joined the British; when a battery opened upon them, and their commander called upon them to fall back. This was done in good order, and at a steady trot.

On seeing Terence standing in their path, an officer rode up to him.

"I surrender," Terence said.

A trooper was called out, and ordered to conduct him to the rear; where many other prisoners, who had been taken during the French advance, were gathered. Here an English soldier bound up Terence's wound, from which the blood was streaming freely, a portion of the scalp having been shorn clean off.

"That was a narrow escape, sir," the man said.

"Yes; I don't know how it was that it did not sever my skull; but I suppose that it was a hasty blow, and the sword must have turned. It might have been worse, by a good deal. I am afraid things are going badly with us."

"Badly enough, here," the soldier said; "but I think we are holding our own, in the centre. There is a tremendous roar of fire going on, round that village there. I was captured half an hour ago, and it has been growing louder and louder, ever since."

For another two hours the battle continued and, as it still centred round the village, the spirits of the prisoners rose; for it was evident that, although the right had been driven back, the centre was at least holding its position, against all the efforts of the French. In the afternoon the fire slackened, and only a few shots were fired.

The next morning at daybreak the prisoners, 300 in number, were marched away under a strong escort. Both armies still occupied the same positions they had held the day before, and there seemed every probability of the battle being renewed. When, however, they had marched several miles, and no sound of heavy firing was heard, the prisoners concluded that either Wellington had retired; or that Massena, seeing his inability to drive the British from their position, intended himself to fall back upon Ciudad.

The convoy marched twenty miles, and then halted for the night. Two hours after they did so a great train of waggons containing wounded came up, and halted at the same place. The wounded were lifted out and laid on the ground, where the surgeons attended to the more serious cases.

"Pardon, monsieur," Terence said in French, to one of the doctors who was near him, "are there any of our countrymen among the wounded?"

"No, sir, they are all French," the doctor replied.

"That is a good sign," Terence said, to an English officer who was standing by him when he asked the question.

"Why so, Colonel?"

"Because, if Massena intended to attack again tomorrow, he would have sent the British wounded back, as well as his own men. The French, like ourselves, make no distinction between friends and foes; and that he has not sent them seems, to me, to show that he intends himself to fall back, and to leave the British wounded to the care of their own surgeons, rather than embarrass himself with them."

"Yes, I have no doubt that is the case," the officer said. "It seems, then, that we must have won the day, after all. That is some comfort, anyhow, and I shall sleep more soundly than I expected. If we had been beaten, there would have been nothing for it but for the army to fall back again to the lines of Torres Vedras; and Wellington would have had to fight very hard to regain them. If Massena does fall back, Almeida will have to surrender."

"I was inside last time it surrendered," Terence said, "but I managed to make my way out with my regiment, after the explosion."

"I wonder whether Massena means to leave us at Ciudad, or to send us on to Salamanca?"

"I should think that he would send us on," Terence replied; "he will not want to have 300 men eating up the stores at Ciudad, besides requiring a certain portion of the garrison to look after them."

Terence's ideas proved correct and, without stopping at Ciudad, the convoy of prisoners and wounded continued their march until they arrived at Salamanca. Terence could not help smiling, as he was marched through the street, and thought of the wild panic that he and Dicky Ryan had caused, when he was last in that town. The convent which the Mayo Fusiliers had occupied was now turned into a prison, and here the prisoners taken at Fuentes d'Onoro were marched, and joined those who had fallen into the hands of the French during Massena's retreat. Among these were several officers of his acquaintance and, as discipline was not very strict, they were able to make themselves fairly comfortable together.

The French, indeed, along the whole of the Portuguese frontier, had their hands full; and the force at Salamanca was so small that but few men could be spared for prison duties and, so long as their captives showed no signs of giving trouble, their guards were satisfied to leave them a good deal to their own devices; watching the gate carefully, but leaving much of the interior work of the prison to be done by Spanish warders for, violent as the natives were in their expressions of hatred for the French, they were always ready to serve under them, in any capacity in which money could be earned.

"There can be no difficulty, whatever, in making one's escape from here," Terence said, to a party of four or five officers who were lodged with him in a room, from whose window a view over the city was obtainable. "It is not the getting out of this convent that is difficult, but the making one's way across this country to rejoin. I have no doubt that one could bribe one of those Spaniards to bring in a rope and, even if that could not be obtained, we might manage to make one from our blankets; but the question is, what to do when we have got out? Massena lies between us and Ciudad and, from what I hear the French soldiers say, the whole line is guarded down to Badajoz, where Soult's army is lying. Victor is somewhere farther to the south, and their convoys and cavalry will be traversing the whole country. I speak Portuguese well, and know enough of Spanish to pass as a Spaniard, among Frenchmen, but to anyone who does not speak either language it would be next to impossible to get along."

"I quite see that," one of the officers said, "and for my part I would rather stay where I am, than run the risk of such an attempt. I don't know a word of Spanish, and should be recaptured before I had been out an hour. If I got away from the town I should be no better off, for I could not obtain a disguise. As to making one's way from here to Almeida, it would be altogether hopeless."

The others agreed, and one of them said:

"But don't let us be any hindrance to you, O'Connor. If you are disposed to try, by all means do so and, if we can help you in any way, we will."

"I shall certainly try," Terence said; "but I shall wait a little to see how things go. It may be by this time Wellington has fallen back again and, in that case, no doubt Massena will advance. We heard as we came along that Marmont, with six divisions, is approaching the frontier and, even if Wellington could maintain himself on the Aqueda, Soult is likely to crush Beresford, and may advance from Badajoz towards Lisbon, when the British will be obliged to retire at once.

"To make one's way across the open country between this and Ciudad would be easy enough; while it would be dangerous in the extreme to enter the passes, while the French troops are pressing through them on Wellington's rear. My Portuguese would, of course, be a hindrance rather than a benefit to me on this side of the frontier; for the Spaniards hate the Portuguese very much more heartily than they do the French. You know that, when they were supplying our army with grain, the Spanish muleteers would not bring any for the use of the Portuguese brigades; and it was only by taking it as if for the British divisions, and distributing it afterwards to the Portuguese, that the latter could be kept alive. As a British officer I should feel quite safe, if I fell into the hands of Spanish guerillas; but as a Portuguese officer my life would not be worth an hour's purchase."

Two days later came the news that a desperate battle had been fought by Beresford at Albuera, near Badajoz. He had been attacked by Soult but, after tremendous fighting, in which the French first obtained great advantages, they had been at last beaten off by the British troops; and it ended a drawn battle, the losses on both sides being extraordinarily heavy. It was not until some time afterwards that Terence learned the particulars of this desperate engagement. Beresford had 30,000 infantry, 2000 cavalry, and 38 guns; but the British infantry did not exceed 7000. Soult had 4000 veteran cavalry, 19,000 infantry, and 40 guns.

The battle began badly. Blake with his Spaniards were soon disposed of by the French and, in half an hour, the battle was all but lost; a brigade of the British infantry being involved in the confusion caused by the Spanish retreat, and two-thirds of its number being destroyed. The whole brunt of the battle now fell upon the small British force remaining. French columns pushed up the hill held by them. The cannon on both sides swept the ground with grape. The heavy French columns suffered terribly from the fire from the English lines; but they pressed forward, gained the crest of the rise and, confident of victory, were still advancing; when Cole and Houghton's brigades came up and restored the battle, and the British line, charging through a storm of grape and musketry, fell upon the French columns and drove them down the hill again, in confusion.

The Portuguese battalions had fought well, as had the German regiment; but it was upon the British that the whole brunt of the fight had fallen. In the four hours that the combat lasted, 7000 of the allies and over 8000 of the French had been killed or wounded. Of the 6000 British infantry, only 1800 remained standing when the battle was over, 4200 being killed or wounded; 600 Germans and Portuguese were placed hors de combat; while of the Spaniards, who formed the great mass of the army, 2000 were killed or wounded by the French artillery and musketry, or cut down while in disorder by the French cavalry.

Never was the indomitable valour of British infantry more markedly shown than at the battle of Albuera. The battle had been brought on, in no small degree, by their anxiety for action. The regiments had been disappointed that, while their comrades were sharing in Wellington's pursuit of Massena, they were far away from the scene of conflict; and when Beresford would have fallen back, as it would have been prudent to do, they became so insubordinate that he gave way to their desire to meet the French; and so fought a battle where defeat would have upset all Wellington's plans for the campaign, and victory would have brought no advantages with it. Like Inkerman, it was a soldiers' battle. Beresford's dispositions were faulty in the extreme and, tactically, the day was lost before the fighting began.

The Spanish portion of the army did no real fighting and, in their confusion, involved the loss of nearly the whole of a British brigade; and it was only by the unconquerable valour of the remainder of the British force that victory was gained, against enormous odds, and that against some of the best troops of France.

Terence was in the habit of often going down and chatting with the French guard at the gate. Their duties were tedious, and they were glad of a talk with this young British officer, who was the only prisoner in their keeping who spoke their language fluently; and from them he obtained what news they had of what was going on. A fortnight later, he gathered that the British force on the Aqueda had been greatly weakened, that there was no intention of laying siege to Ciudad, and it was believed that Wellington's main body had marched south to join Beresford.

This was, indeed, the only operation left open to the British general. Regnier's division of Marmont's army had joined Massena, and it would be impossible to besiege Ciudad while a force, greatly superior to his own, was within easy striking distance. On the other hand, Beresford was in no position to fight another battle and, as long as Badajoz remained in the hands of the French, they could at any time advance into Portugal; and its possession was therefore of paramount importance.

Marmont had succeeded Massena in command, the latter marshal having been recalled to France; and the great bulk of the French army was now concentrated round Salamanca, from which it could either march against the British force at Ciudad; or unite with Soult and, in overwhelming strength, either move against Cadiz or advance into Portugal. Wellington therefore left Spencer to guard the line of the Coa, and make demonstrations against Ciudad; while with the main body of his army he marched south.

The news decided Terence to attempt to make his escape in that direction. He did not know whether his own regiment would be with Spencer, or Wellington; but it was clear that more important events would be likely to take place near Badajoz than on the Coa. The French would be unlikely to choose the latter route for an advance into Portugal. The country had been stripped bare by the two armies that had marched across it. The roads were extremely bad, and it would be next to impossible for an army to carry with it sustenance for the march; still less for maintaining itself after it had traversed the passes. Moreover Spencer, falling back before them, would retire to the lines of Torres Vedras; and the invaders would find themselves, as Massena had done, baffled by that tremendous line of fortifications, where they might find also Wellington and his army, who would have shorter roads to follow, established before they arrived.

Some of the townspeople were allowed to pass in and out of the convent, to sell fruit and other articles to the British prisoners; and Terence thought it better to open negotiations with one of these, rather than one of the warders in French pay. He was not long in fixing upon one of them as an ally. She was a good-looking peasant girl, who came regularly with grapes and other fruit. From the first, Terence had made his purchases from her, and had stood chatting with her for some time.

"I want to get away from here, Nita," he said, on the day he received the news of Wellington's march to the south.

"I dare say, senor," she laughed. "I suppose all the other prisoners want the same."

"No doubt; but you see, they would not have much chance of getting away, because none of them understand Spanish. I talk it a little, as you see. So if I got out and had a disguise, I might very well make my way across the country."

"There are many brigands about," she said, "and it is not safe for a single man to travel anywhere. What do you want me to do?"

"I want a rope fifty feet long; not a very thick one, but strong enough to bear my weight. That is the first thing. Then I want a disguise; but that I could get, if a friend would be in readiness to give it to me, after I had slid down the rope into the street."

"How could I give you a rope, senor, with all these people about?"

"You could put it into the bottom of your basket, and cover it over with fruit. You could take your stand near the door, at the foot of the stairs leading up to my room. Then I could, in the hearing of the rest, say that it was my fete day; and that I was going to give the others a treat, so that I would buy all your grapes. After we had bargained for them, I could hand you the money and say:

"'Give me your basket. I will run upstairs, empty it, and bring it down to you.'

"As this would save my making five or six journeys upstairs, there would be nothing suspicious about that."

"I will think it over," the girl said, gravely. "I do not see that there would be much danger. I will give you an answer tomorrow."

The next day she said, when Terence went up to her, "I will do it, senor. I have a lover who is a muleteer. I spoke to him last night, and he will help you. Tomorrow I will give you the rope. In the afternoon you are to hang something out of your window; not far, but so that it can be just seen from the street. That red sash of yours will do very well. Do not let it go more than an inch or two beyond the window sill, so that it will not attract any attention.

"When the clock strikes ten, Garcia and I will be in the street below that window. This is a quiet neighbourhood, and no one is likely to be about. Garcia will have a suit of muleteer's clothes for you, and you can change at once. I will carry those you have on to our house, and destroy them. Garcia will take you to his lodging. He starts at daybreak with his mules, and you can travel with them."

"Thank you most heartily, Nita. Here are five gold pieces, for the purchase of the ropes and clothes."

"Oh, they will not cost anything like as much as that!" the girl said.

"If they don't, you must buy yourself a little keepsake, Nita, in remembrance of me; but I will send you something better worth having, by Garcia, when I reach our army, and am able to get money with which I can pay him for his labour and loss of time."

"I don't want money," the girl said, drawing herself up proudly. "I am helping you because I like you, and because you have come here to drive the French away."

"I should not think of offering you money, Nita. I know that it is out of pure kindness that you are doing it; but you could not refuse some little trinket to wear, on your wedding day."

"I may never get married," the girl said, with a pout.

"Oh, I know better than that, Nita! A girl with as pretty a face as yours would never remain single, and I should not be surprised if you were to tell me that the day is fixed already."

"It is not fixed, and is not likely to be, senor. I have told Garcia that I will never marry, as long as the French are here. He may go out with one of the partisan forces. He often talks about doing so, and might get shot any day by these brigands. When I am married, I am not going to stay at home by myself, while he is away among the mountains."

"Ah! Well, the war cannot last for ever. You may have Wellington here before the year is out. Give me your address, so that when we come, I may find you out."

"Callao San Salvador, Number 10. It is one of my uncles I am living with there. My home is in Burda, six miles away. It is a little village, and there are so many French bands ranging over the country that, a month ago, my father sent me in here to stay with my uncle; thinking that I should be safer in the city than in a little village. He brings fruit in for me to sell, twice a week."

"Very well. If we come here, I shall go to your uncle's and inquire for you and, if you have left him, I will go out to your village and find you."

All passed off as arranged, without the slightest hitch. Terence took the girl's basket and ran upstairs with it, emptied the fruit out on the table, thrust the rope under his bed, and ran down again and gave Nita the basket. At ten o'clock at night he slung himself from the window and after a hearty goodbye to his fellow prisoners—several of whom, now that it was too late, would gladly have shared in his adventure.

"I should be very glad if you were going with me, but at the same time I own that I do not think we should get through. I question, indeed, if the muleteer would take anyone who did not understand enough Spanish to pass, if he were questioned by French soldiers; and if he would do so, it would greatly increase the risk. At the same time, if one of you would like to take my place, I will relinquish it to you; and will, after you have gone off with the muleteer, go in another direction, and take my chance of getting hold of a disguise, somehow, and of making my way out."

None of the others would hear of this and, after extinguishing the light, so as to obviate the risk of anyone noticing him getting out of the window, Terence slipped down to the ground just as the clock struck ten.

"Good evening, senor!" a voice said, as his feet touched the ground. "Here is your disguise. Nita is watching a short distance away, and will give us notice if anyone approaches. You had best change, at once."

Terence took off his uniform and, with the assistance of the muleteer, donned the garments that he had brought for him. Then he rolled the others into a bundle, and the muleteer gave a low whistle, whereupon Nita came running up.

"Thanks be to the saints that no one has come along!" she said, as the rope, which Terence had forgotten, fell at their feet; his companions having, as agreed, untied the upper end.

"That will come in useful," Garcia said, coiling it up on his arm. "Now, senor, do not let us stand talking. Nita will take the uniform and burn it."

"I will hide it, if you like," the girl said. "There can be no reason for their searching our house."

"Thank you, Nita, but it would be better to destroy it, at once. It may be a long time before I come this way again; besides, the things have seen their best days, and I have another suit I can put on, when I join my regiment. Thanks very much for your kindness, which I shall always remember."

"Goodbye, senor! May the saints protect you!" and without giving him time to say more, she took the bundle from Garcia's hand and sped away down the street.

"Now, senor, follow me," he said, and turned to go in the other direction.

"You had best call me Juan, and begin at once," Terence said. "If by accident you were to say senor, in the hearing of anyone, there would be trouble at once."

"I shall be careful, never fear," the man said. "However, there would only be harm done if there happened to be a Frenchman—or one of their Spaniards, who are worse—present. As to my own comrades, it would not matter at all. We muleteers are all heart and soul against the French, and will do anything to injure them. We are all obliged to work for them; for all trade is at an end, and we must live. Many have joined the partisans, but those who have good mules cannot go away and give up their only means of earning a living; for although the French pay for carriage by mules or carts, if they come upon animals that are not being used, they take them without a single scruple.

"Besides, there are not many partisans in this part of Spain. The French have been too long in the valley here, and are too strong in the Castiles for their operations. It is different in Navarre, Aragon, and Catalonia; and in Valencia and Mercia. There the French have never had a firm footing, and most of the strong places are still in Spanish hands. In all the mountainous parts, in fact, there are guerillas; but here it is too dangerous. There are bands all over the country, but these are really but robbers, and no honest man would join them.

"This is the house."

He turned in at a small doorway and unlocked the door, closing it after them.

"Put your hand on my shoulder, Juan," he said. "I have a light upstairs."

He led the way in darkness up a stone staircase, then unlocked another door and entered a small room, where a candle was burning.

"This is my home, when I am here," he said. "Most of us sleep at the stables where our mules are put up; but I like having a place to myself, and my mate looks after the mules."

Nothing could have been simpler than the furniture of the room. It consisted of a low pallet, a small table, and a single chair. In a corner were a pair of saddlebags and two or three coloured blankets. A thick coat, lined with sheepskin, hung against the wall. In a corner was a brightly-coloured picture of a saint, with two sconces for candles by the side of it. The muleteer had crossed himself and bowed to it as he came in, and Terence doubted not that it was the picture of a saint who was supposed to take a special interest in muleteers.

From a small cupboard, the man brought out a flask of wine and two drinking cups.

"It is good," he said, as he placed them on the table. "I go down to Xeres sometimes, and always bring up a half octave of something special for my friends, here."

After pouring out the two cups, he handed the chair politely to Terence, and sat himself down on the edge of the pallet. Then, taking out a tobacco bag and a roll of paper, he made a cigarette and handed it to Terence, and then rolled one for himself.



Chapter 13: From Salamanca To Cadiz.

"Now, let us talk about our journey," the muleteer said, when he had taken two or three whiffs at his cigarette. "Nita tells me that you wish, if possible, to join your army near Badajoz. That suits me well, for I have orders from a merchant here to fetch him twelve mule loads of sherry from Xeres; and Badajoz is, therefore, on my way. The merchant has a permit, signed by Marmont, for me to pass unmolested by any French troops; saying that the wine is intended for his use, and that of his staff. If it were not for that, there would be small chance, indeed, of his ever getting it. There is so little trade, now, that it is scarce possible to buy a flask of the white wine of the south, here. Of course, the pass will be equally useful going down to fetch it for, without it, my mules would be certain to be impressed for service, by the French.

"So you see, nothing could have happened more fortunately for, anywhere between the Tagus and Badajoz, we can turn off from Estremadura into Portugal. It would not be safe to try near Badajoz, for Soult's army is scattered all over there and, though the pass would be doubtless respected by superior officers, if we fell in with foraging parties they would have no hesitation in shooting me, tearing up the pass, and carrying off my mules. For your sake as well as my own, therefore, I would turn off and cross the mountains—say, to Portalegre—and go down to Elvas. There you would be with your friends; and I could cross again, further south, and make my way down to Xeres."

"They say that two of Marmont's divisions started south, yesterday."

"That is unfortunate, for they will leave little behind them in the way of food and drink; and we shall find it better to travel by by-roads. I should not mind being impressed, if it were only for the march down to Badajoz; but once with an army, there is no saying how long one may be kept."

"If we find any difficulty in crossing into Portugal this side of Badajoz, I shall not mind going down to Cadiz. I should have no difficulty, there, in getting a ship to Lisbon."

"Well, we shall see," the muleteer said. "We will go the short way, if we can. I hate the Portuguese, and they are no fonder of us; but with you with me, of course, I should not be afraid of interference from them."

"But the Portuguese are fighting on our side, and aiding us to help you."

"Yes, because they think it is better that the war should be carried on here than in their own country. Besides, from what I hear, it is with no goodwill that they fight under your British general; but only because he tells them that, unless they furnish so many troops, he will have nothing more to do with them, but will sail away with his army to England."

"That may be true, Garcia; but you know that when we were here—for I was with the British army that marched through Salamanca—the Spanish authorities were no more willing to assist than were the Portuguese; and not a single soldier—with the exception of two or three thousand half-armed men under Romana—joined, from the day we crossed the frontier to that on which we embarked to Corunna."

"The authorities are all bad," Garcia said scornfully. "They only think of feathering their own nests, and of quarrelling among themselves. The people are patriots, but what can they do when the Juntas keep the arms the English have sent us in their magazines, and divide the money among themselves? Then our generals know nothing of their business, and have their own ambitions and rivalries. We are all ready to fight; and when the drum is beaten and we are called out, we go willingly enough. But what do we do when we go out? We are marched backwards and forwards without motive; the officers are no good; and when at last we do see the French we are always beaten, and the generals and the officers are the first to run away.

"We ought in the first place to rise, not against the French, but against the Juntas, and the councillors, and the hidalgos. Then, when we have done with them, we ought to choose officers from among ourselves, men that have done good service as leaders of partisans. Then we could meet the French. We are brave enough, when we are well led. See how the people fought at Saragossa, and since then at Gerona, and many other places. We are not afraid of being killed, but we have no confidence in our chiefs."

"I have no doubt that is so, Garcia; and that, if the regiments were trained by British officers, as some of the Portuguese now are, you would fight well. Unfortunately, as you say, your generals and officers are chosen, not for their merits, but from their influence with the Juntas, whose object is to have the army filled with men who will be subservient to their orders.

"Then there is another thing against you: that is, the jealousy of the various provinces. There is no common effort. When Valencia is invaded, for example, the Valencians fight; but they have no idea of going out from their homes to assist Castile or Catalonia and so, one after another, the provinces are conquered by the French."

"That is so," Garcia said thoughtfully. "If they were to rise here I would fight, and take my chance of being killed; but I should not care to risk my life in defence of Valencia, with which I have nothing whatever to do. I don't see how you are to get over that, so long as we are divided into provinces."

"Nor do I, Garcia. In times of peace these various governments may work well enough; but nothing could be worse than the system, when a country is invaded.

"What time do you start, tomorrow?"

"As soon as the gates are open. That will be at five o'clock. It is eleven now, so we had better get some sleep. In the morning I must see that your dress is all right. Nita has given me a bottle of walnut juice, to stain your face and hands.

"Do you lie down on the bed, senor. I will wrap myself up in this cloak. I am more accustomed to sleep on that than on the bed."

Terence removed his outer garments and, in a few minutes, was sound asleep. At four o'clock Garcia roused him. The morning was breaking and, with the assistance of the muleteer, he made his toilet and stained his face, neck, and hands, and darkened his hair. Then they each ate a piece of bread with a bunch of grapes, took a drink of red wine, and then sallied out; Garcia carrying his sheepskin cloak, and Terence the three coloured blankets. A quarter of a mile farther, they came to an inn frequented by muleteers.

"I have told my mate about you," Garcia said, "so you need not be afraid of him; nor indeed of any of us. There is not a muleteer who would not do what he could to aid the escape of a British officer."

Most of the mules were already saddled, and Garcia went up with Terence to a man who was buckling a strap.

"Sanchez," he said, "this is our new comrade, Juan, who I told you would accompany us this journey."

The man nodded.

"It will be all the better," he said. "Twelve mules are rather too much for two men to manage, when we get among the mountains."

Garcia and Terence at once set to work to assist, and in ten minutes the cavalcade started. Garcia rode the leading mule, three others being tied in single file behind it. Terence came next, and Sanchez brought up the rear. The animals were fine ones, and Garcia was evidently proud of them; showing their good points to Terence, and telling him their names. The mules were all very fond of their master, turning their heads at once when addressed by name; and flapping their long ears in enjoyment, as he rubbed their heads or patted their necks.

The town was already astir and, as they reached the gates, country carts were pouring in, laden with fruits and vegetables for the market. Garcia stopped for a moment, as an old man came along with a cart.

"How are you, father?"

"How are you, Garcia? Off again?"

"Yes; I am going to Xeres for wine, for the French general."

"I see that you have got a new comrade."

"Yes; the journey is a long one, and I thought that it was as well to have another mate."

"Yes, it is dangerous travelling," the old man said. "Well, goodbye, and good fortune to you!"

Garcia put his mules in motion again, and they passed through the gate and soon left Salamanca behind. There was little conversation on the way. The two Spaniards made and smoked cigarettes continually; and Terence endeavoured to imitate them, by addressing the endearing words they used to their animals, having learned the names of the four of which he was in charge. At first they did not respond to this strange voice but, as they became accustomed to it, each answered, when its name was called, by quickening its pace and by a sharp whisk of the tail, that showed it understood that it was addressed.

Terence knew that his escape would not be discovered until eight o'clock, when the doors were opened and the prisoners assembled in the yard for the roll call. Should any pursuit be organized, which was unlikely, it would be in the direction of Ciudad; as it might be supposed that an escaped prisoner would naturally make for the nearest spot where he could join his friends. One prisoner more or less would, however, make but little difference; and the authorities would probably content themselves with sending a message by a trooper, to all the towns and villages on that road, to arrest any suspicious persons travelling without proper papers.

On the line they were pursuing, the risk of interference was very small. The marshal's pass would be certainly respected by the officers of the corps under his command; and it was not until they fell in with parties of Soult's troops that any unpleasantness was to be apprehended; though even here the worst that could be looked for, if they met any large body of troops, would be that the mules might be taken, for a time, for service in the army.

After a long day's journey they halted, for the night, at a village. Here they found that the troops marching south had encamped close at hand for the night, and the resources of the place had been completely exhausted. This mattered but little, as they carried a week's store of bread, black sausage, cheese, onions, garlic, and capsicums. The landlord of the little inn furnished them with a cooking pot; and a sort of stew, which Terence found by no means unpalatable, was concocted. The mules were hobbled and turned out on to the plain to graze; for the whole of the forage of the village had been requisitioned, for the use of the cavalry and baggage animals of the French column.

On the following morning they struck off from the road they had been following and, travelling for sixteen hours, came down on it again at the foot of the pass of Bejar; and learned from some peasants that they had got ahead of the French column, which was encamped two or three miles down the road. Before daybreak they were on their way again, and reached Banos in the afternoon. There were but few inhabitants remaining here; for the requisitions for food and forage, made by the troops that had so frequently passed through the defiles, were such that the position of the inhabitants had become intolerable and, when they learned from Garcia that two divisions of French troops would most probably arrive that evening, and that Marmont's whole army would follow, most of the inhabitants who remained hastily packed their most valuable belongings in carts, and drove away into the hills.

The landlord of the largest inn, however, stood his ground. He was doing well; and the principal officers of troops passing through always took up their quarters with him, paid him fairly for their meals and saw that, whatever exactions were placed upon the town, he was exempted from them. Therefore the muleteers were able to obtain a comfortable meal and, after resting their animals for three hours, and giving them a good feed of corn, went on a few miles farther; and then, turning off, encamped among the hills. They were about to wrap themselves in their cloaks and blankets, and to lie down for the night, when a number of armed men suddenly appeared.

"Who are you, and whither are you going?" one, who appeared to be their leader, asked.

"We are bound for Xeres," Garcia replied, rising to his feet. "We are commissioned by Senor Moldeno, the well-known wine merchant of Salamanca, to procure for him—as much good Xeres wine as our mules will carry."

"It is a pity that we did not meet you on the way back, instead of on your journey there. We should appreciate the wine quite as thoroughly as his customers would do. But how do you propose to bring your wine back, when the whole country south swarms with Soult's cavalry?"

"Don Moldeno obtained a pass for us from Marmont; who, I suppose, is one of his customers."

"We could not think of allowing wine to pass for the use of a French marshal," the man said.

"It is not likely that he will drink it for some time," Garcia said, carelessly; "for he is marching in this direction himself. Two of his divisions have probably, by this time, reached Banos; and we heard at Salamanca that he himself, with the rest of them, will follow in a day or two."

"That is bad news," the man said. "There will be no travellers along here, while the army is on its march. Are your mules carrying nothing now?"

"Nothing at all. The mules would have been requisitioned two days ago, as were most of the others in Salamanca; but Marmont's pass saved us."

"Are you carrying the money to buy the wine with?"

"No, Don Moldeno knew better than that. I have only a letter from him to the house of Simon Peron, at Xeres. He told me that that would be sufficient, and they would furnish me with the wine, at once, on my handing the letter to them."

"Well, comrades," the man said, to the others gathered round, "it is evident that we shall get no booty tonight; and may as well be off to our own fires, where supper is waiting for us; and move away from here at daybreak. The French may have parties of horse all over the hills, tomorrow, searching for provisions, cattle, and sheep."

"That was a narrow escape," Garcia said, as the brigands moved off. "I wonder they did not take our mules; but I suppose they had as many as they want—three or four would be sufficient to carry their food, and anything they may have stolen—more than that would only be a hindrance to them in moving about, especially now they know that the French may be in the neighbourhood in a few hours, if they have not arrived already.

"Well, senor, what is the next thing to be done?"

Terence did not answer for some little time.

"It is not easy to say," he replied at length. "Seeing that Marmont and Soult are practically united, there can be no doubt that our troops will have to fall back again to Portugal. The whole country is covered with French cavalry and, in addition, we have to run risks from these brigands; who may not always prove so easy to deal with as the men who have just left us. What do you think yourself? You know the country, and can judge far better than I can as to our chance of getting through."

"I don't think it will be possible, senor, to carry out the plan of trying to cross into Portugal, in this direction. It seems to me, now that Soult is engaged, and there can be no large bodies of French near Seville, our best plan would be to make for that town; whence, so far as we know, the country is clear of the enemy down to Cadiz; and when we reach that port, you can take ship to Lisbon."

"But in that case I shall not be able to get the money to pay you, for I shall not be known; and although I could doubtless get a passage, I do not think that I could obtain any funds."

"Do not speak of it, senor. The British will be in Salamanca one of these days, and then you will be able to pay me; or, if I should not be there at the time, you can leave the money for me with Nita, or her father. It was for her sake that I undertook the business; and I have no doubt, whatever, that you will discharge the debt when you enter Salamanca."

"That I certainly will, and to make it more certain I will ask one of the officers of my old regiment to undertake to find her out, and to pay the money; in case I may be with my own men, in some other part of the country."

"That will be quite enough, senor. Do not trouble yourself further on the matter. We will start for Seville at daybreak."

Travelling rapidly, the little party kept along the range of the sierras; and then proceeded by the valley of the Tagus and crossed the river at Talavera; and then, keeping nearly due south, struck the Guadiana at Ciudad Real and, crossing La Mancha, gained the Sierra Morena; held west for some distance along the southern slopes; and then turned south and struck the Guadalquivir between Cordova and Seville, and arrived safely at the latter town. They had been obliged to make a great number of detours, to avoid bodies of the enemy; but the muleteer had no difficulty in obtaining information, from the peasants, as to the whereabouts of the French and, after reaching the plains, always travelled at night. They fell in twice with large parties of guerillas; but these were not brigands for, as the country was still unconquered, and the French only held the ground they occupied, the bands had not degenerated into brigandage; but were in communication with the local authorities, and acted in conformity with their instructions, in concert with the Spanish troops.

It was, however, nearly a month from the date of their leaving Salamanca before they arrived at Cadiz. Terence had, during the journey, greatly improved his knowledge of Spanish by his conversation with the muleteers and, as the language was so similar to the Portuguese, he soon acquired facility in speaking it. They put up at a small fonda, or inn, frequented by muleteers; and Terence at once made his way to the house where he heard that the British agent resided. The latter, on hearing his story, was surprised, indeed, that he should have made his way through Spain from a point so far away as Salamanca; and occupied, for the greater portion of the distance, by the French.

"A sloop-of-war is sailing tomorrow for the Tagus," he said, "and I will give you a letter to her captain; who will, of course, give you a passage."

Terence informed him of the great services the muleteer had rendered him, and asked him if he could advance him sufficient money to repay the man.

"I certainly have no funds at my disposal for such a purpose, Captain O'Connor,"—for Terence had said nothing about his Portuguese rank, finding that its announcement always caused a certain amount of doubt—"but I will strain a point, and grant you thirty pounds, on your bill upon your agent at Lisbon. I have no doubt that it will be met on presentation. But should, for example, your vessel be wrecked or captured, which I am by no means contemplating as likely, the amount must go down among subsidies to Spaniards who have rendered good service."

"Thank you, sir. That will be sufficient, not to reward the man for the risk he has run and the fidelity that he has shown, but it will at least pay him for the service of his mules. I do not suppose that he would earn more, and it will be a satisfaction, to me, to know that he is at least not out of pocket."

The agent at once handed him a bag of silver, together with a letter to the officer in command of the Daphne. He hired a boat and was rowed off to the ship; which was lying, with several other small British warships, in the port. When he ascended the side the officer on duty asked him somewhat roughly, in bad Spanish, what he wanted.

"I have a letter for Captain Fry," he replied in English, to the surprise of the lieutenant. "I am a British officer, who was taken prisoner at the battle of Fuentes d'Onoro."

"You must not blame me for having taken you for a Spaniard," the lieutenant said in surprise, as he handed the letter Terence held out to the midshipman, with a request to deliver it to the captain. "Your disguise is certainly excellent and, if you speak Spanish as well as you look the part, I can quite understand your getting safely through the country."

"Unfortunately, I do not. I speak it quite well enough for ordinary purposes, but not well enough to pass as a native. I travelled with a muleteer, who did all the talking that was necessary. I have been a month on the journey, which has greatly improved my Spanish. I knew little of it when I started, but I should not have got on so quickly had I not been thoroughly up in Portuguese; which, of course, helped me immensely."

The midshipman now came up and requested Terence to follow him to the captain's cabin. The captain smiled as he entered.

"It is well that Mr. Bromhead vouched for you, Captain O'Connor; for I certainly should have had difficulty in bringing myself to believe that you were a British officer. I shall, of course, be very glad to give you a passage; and to hear the story of your adventures, which ought to be very interesting."

"I have had very few adventures," Terence replied. "The muleteer knew the country perfectly; and had no difficulty in obtaining, from the peasants, news of the movements of the French. When I started I had no idea of making such a long journey; but had intended to join Lord Beresford in front of Badajos, if I could not manage to cross the frontier higher up; but Marmont's march south rendered that impossible, and I thought that the safer plan would be to keep well away from the frontier; as of course things are much more settled in the interior, and two or three muleteers with their animals would excite little attention, even if we passed through a town with a large French garrison; except that the mules might have been impressed and, as I had no means of recompensing my guide in that case, I was anxious to avoid all risk.

"When do you sail, sir?"

"At eight o'clock tomorrow. You cannot very well go in that attire," the captain said, smiling. "I shall be glad to advance any sum that you may require to procure clothes. You can, no doubt, pay me on your arrival at Lisbon."

Terence gladly accepted a loan of ten pounds and, with it, returned to shore. On reaching the little inn, he at once handed thirty pounds to Garcia. The man, however, absolutely refused to accept it.

"No, senor; since you have got money, I will take fifty dollars to pay for food and forage on my way back; although really you have cost me nothing, for I had to make the journey on business. But even did you owe me the money, I would not take it now. I may not be so lucky on my way back as we have been in coming, and might be seized by brigands; therefore I would, in any case, rather that you left the matter until you come to Salamanca."

"But that may not be for a long time. It is quite as likely that we may be obliged to quit Portugal, and embark for England, as that we shall ever get to Salamanca."

"Who knows, senor! Luck may turn. However, I would rather that it were so. I have had the pleasure of your having made the journey with me, and I shall have pleased Nita. If you come, well and good. If not, it cannot be helped, and I shall not grieve over it. If I had money with me I might lose it, and it might cost me my life."

Terence had again gone out, and purchased a suit of clothes befitting a Spanish gentleman. He took the muleteer with him. They had no longer any reason for concealing their identity and, should he find it necessary to announce himself to be a British officer, it might be useful to have corroboration of his story. He also laid in a fresh stock of linen, of which he was greatly in need and, next morning, after a hearty farewell to Garcia, he went down to the port in his new attire and, carrying a small valise containing his purchases, took a boat to the ship.

The evening before he had called in at the agent's, to thank him again, when the latter told him that he had some urgent despatches from the junta of Cadiz to that of Seville; and some despatches of his own to persons at Cordova, and others in Madrid, who were in communication with the British government; and he offered a sum, for their safe delivery, that would recompense the muleteer for the whole of his journey. This Garcia had gladly acceded to, on condition that he might stop for a day, to get the wine at Xeres.

The voyage to Lisbon lasted three days, and was a very pleasant one to Terence. On his arrival there he at once repaid the captain the loan he had received from him, having over thirty pounds still in hand. He next saw the agent, and requested him to pay the bill when presented and, after waiting three days to obtain a fresh uniform, started up the country and rejoined Wellington, who had been compelled to fall back again behind the Coa. He reported himself to the adjutant general.

"You have just arrived in time, Captain O'Connor," the latter said, "for your regiment is under orders to start, tomorrow, to join the force of the guerilla Moras who, with two thousand men, is in the mountains on our frontier near Miranda; and intends to threaten Zamora, and so compel Marmont to draw off some of his troops facing us here. Your regiment is at present on the Douro, fifteen miles away. How have you come here?"

"I travelled by a country conveyance, sir. I am at present without a horse, but no doubt I can pick one up, when I have obtained funds from the paymaster."

"I will give you an order on him for fifty pounds," the adjutant said. "Of course, there is a great deal more owing to you; but it will save trouble to give you an order for that sum, on account. I don't suppose you will want more. I will have inquiries made about a horse. If you return here in an hour, I daresay I shall hear of one for sale.

"Your regiment has not done much fighting since you left it, but they behaved well at Banos, where we had a very sharp fight. They came up just at the critical moment, and they materially assisted us in beating off the attack of the French; who were in greatly superior force, and nearly succeeded in capturing, or exterminating, the light division."

On his return, Terence found that one of the officers on the adjutant general's staff knew of a horse that had been captured, by a trooper, in a skirmish with French dragoons three days before. It was a serviceable animal and, as the soldier was glad to take ten pounds for it, Terence at once purchased it. The adjutant told him that, on mentioning his return, Lord Wellington had requested him to dine with him; and to come half an hour before the usual time, as he wished to question him with reference to the state of the country he had passed through, and of the strength and probable movements of the French troops in those districts.