Our passage home was pleasant and short. No incident worth relating occurred; and, in twelve days after we left Lisbon, we found ourselves off Spithead. The number of Jews which crowded the vessel was astonishing. They all sought for gold, but amongst us it was a scarce commodity. One solitary guinea was all I possessed, and I believe I could say as much as any of my companions. For this guinea I received, from a Jew, thirty shillings; and it was then that I really began to lament the loss of my “specie” in Lisbon. It was, however, of no use to repine. We had, after a good deal of peril, arrived once more on our native shore. We saw ourselves, on landing, hailed by our own people, and, though last, not least, had an order on the agent for seven months' pay! We were all splendidly dressed, with braided coats, handsome forage caps, rich velvet waistcoats, appended to which were a profusion of large silver Spanish buttons—some wore gold ones—and our pantaloons bore the weight of as much embroidery as, poor Fairfield once said, would furnish a good sideboard of plate! Thanks to the old German tailor in Lisbon (I forget his name) for this. If he charged high, he gave everything of the best quality; but, as we landed, and saw the garrison of Portsmouth in their white breeches and black gaiters, and their officers in red coats, long boots, and white shoulder belts, we must have appeared to them, as they did to us, like men who formed a part of an army of different nations. We took coach the morning after our landing for London. After a few days spent there in sight-seeing and amusements, I set out to visit my family in Ireland. I took my place on the top of the Liverpool coach, and, with a light heart, viewed the beautiful country we passed over. The contrast it presented to that which I had but a few weeks before left was great indeed, and I felt a pride when I reflected that I, humble as I was, was one of those who had fought and bled not only for my country’s honour, but my country’s safety. My servant, Dan Carsons, sat behind, and kept all the outside passengers near him, either in astonishment at the tales he recounted as to what he had seen, or in roars of laughter at some of his adventures, which he told without any scrupulous qualms as to whether they were true or not. He had made himself so agreeable to those behind that, at the first stage, where we changed horses, some of the front passengers requested he would take his place with them; but there was no vacant seat, and no one seemed disposed to resign his place, so I thought the best plan was for me to go behind, which, I said, I preferred to the front; and my man Dan was installed beside the driver. The laughter in front was, if possible, louder than it had been before in the rear, while Dan was recounting his Peninsular reminiscences.