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
During the rest of our voyage we met with no further adventure. After
our encounter I told Colonel Douglas that having been now called upon
duty I was entitled to a choice of berths according to my rank, in
which Douglas fully agreed; but as I had pledged my word to Captain
Patten that I should not interfere with the dragoon officers, I
continued my usual dormitory, which was on the hay put on board for the
horses.
On our arrival at Lisbon, Colonel Douglas ascertained the name of our
convoy and that of the captain. He declared at the time that he would
report the whole transaction to the Commander-in-chief. Whether he did
so or not I cannot say, as I never after had the pleasure of meeting
him but once, and that on the Pyrenees and under circumstances which
precluded much conversation: he was bleeding profusely from a gunshot
wound which he had just received in the neck. I recollect being told on
our arrival at Lisbon by a gallant old naval officer, who was highly
indignant at the affair, that we were taken in convoy because our
voluntary protector did not belong to the station, and therefore took
the opportunity of offering his services as a pretext for trespassing
on Sir Richard Keats’ cruising ground.
Having remained in Lisbon barely long enough to prepare equipment
necessary to take the field, I now marched from that capital for the
fourth time; but although superior in rank I did not feel more happy.
On former occasions I proudly fell into the ranks of as fine and
gallant a corps as ever moved forth to battle; I laughed and joked with
old comrades whom I sincerely esteemed. Our march was enlivened with
martial music, and we enjoyed each other’s society when the daily march
was over. That was a walk of pleasure; but now the contrast was woeful.
Silent and alone I left Lisbon. I had a dreary march of some hundred
miles before me; heavily therefore I plodded along and always in dread
of being taken for a Belemite. At last however I fortunately fell in
with an artillery officer, a lieutenant who was proceeding to the army
with a relay of mules for the guns. My new acquaintance being also
proficient in more languages than one, we could, as occasion required,
and without dread of detection, pass as natives of different countries;
and through the general information acquired by the curious traveller
who has wandered far, we were enabled to act in many capacities. In
some measure therefore to brighten the gloom and break the monotony
of our long and dreary march, we exerted our ingenuity in frequent
varieties of calling.
[Sidenote: PLANNING AN ELOPEMENT.]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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