A boy in the Peninsular War : $b the services, adventures and experiences of Robert BlakeneyBlakeney, Robert
History
A boy in the Peninsular War : $b the services, adventures and experiences of Robert Blakeney
Blakeney, Robert
Peninsular War, 1807-1814 -- Personal narratives, British
Next morning we left Valencia before dawn and were soon in the
Portuguese territory. The prisoners now breathed freely, not having
felt very secure during our route through Spain. The mountains
we had now to cross were very steep and excessively difficult of
ascent, especially with a wheeled vehicle. The prince travelled very
comfortably in a handsome carriage taken at Arroyo Molinos, in which
fortunately he was always accompanied by his graminivorous friend,
whom the prince and I used facetiously to call Bucephalus. Four large
Spanish mules which drew the carriage being insufficient to haul it up
those hills, I directed that a couple of bullocks which were ploughing
alongside the road should be added to the team. The harnessing was
attempted in a violent manner by the Swiss coachman, an immensely
stout and large person; but one of the animals becoming very restive,
severely wounded him with one of his horns. The wound was excessively
severe and dangerous, but being ignorant of technical terms I must
decline attempting a description. The coachman, becoming furious from
pain, drew his sabre, and cutting and slashing right and left so
wounded the bullock that I ordered the guard to disarm him, and never
after allowed him to carry any other weapon than his whip, although
he frequently entreated the prince to intercede for the recovery of
his sabre. The owners having interposed, the animals were quietly
harnessed, and after a long pull we at last reached the summit. Owing
to its great height and the season being rather advanced (the middle
of November), the atmosphere was excessively cold. We halted on this
our first Portuguese mountain for some hours, and I cannot forget our
delicious repast upon roasted chestnuts and goats’ milk, plentifully
supplied by the Portuguese shepherds. Thunderstruck on hearing that one
of their guests was no less a personage than a prince, they crowded
round the blazing fire before which we were feasting to have the
illustrious stranger pointed out, no doubt expecting to see in a person
of such exalted rank something superhuman.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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