The Adventures of Captain John Patterson: With Notices of the Officers, &c. of the 50th, or Queen's Own Regiment from 1807 to 1821Patterson, John
History
The Adventures of Captain John Patterson: With Notices of the Officers, &c. of the 50th, or Queen's Own Regiment from 1807 to 1821
Patterson, John
Great Britain. Army. Queen's Own Royal West Kent Regiment; Peninsular War, 1807-1814 -- Personal narratives, British
On the examination of the stores after the capture, we were highly
pleased to find that the French had left us a valuable legacy.--Their
magazines were well stocked, not only with powder and ball, but with
an ample supply of provender, sufficient to rejoice the hearts of any
half-starved warriors; the quality, moreover, of these materials being
such as to gratify the palate of the most fastidious gourmand. To a
set of fellows in our sorry plight this was no very unpleasing
windfall, and fighting being allowed at all times to be very hungry
work, we proceeded, with appetites sharpened like our swords, on the
work of demolition; the lean and starving bullocks allotted for our
use being at the same time happy at the prospect of a respite from
the sentence of being cut up for rations by the remorseless knife.
Assembled on the esplanade, so lately the arena of our exploits,
fragments of the dainty fare were dispensed with liberal hand, under
the inspection of the quarter-master; and with a relish, that might
have put a town councillor to the blush, we dispatched the _vivres_
with as little ceremony as we had shown to the original proprietors of
the same; nor were we by any means over nice, as to the mode in which
our pic-nic repast was served or garnished.
Collected together in knots and parties, with the green sward for our
table-cloth, forgetful of the past, and careless about the future, we
feasted most sumptuously, drinking to our foes in their own generous
wine, and wishing that, in future campaigns, our adventures might be
terminated in an equally agreeable and fortunate manner.
CHAPTER XII.
We marched on the morning of the 20th of May, 1812, and on the 21st
entered our old quarters at Truxillo. The journey was fatiguing, but,
as we returned by the main road, our sufferings were not by any means
so great as they were on the former occasion.
Truxillo is large and populous, and appears from the remains of its
ancient buildings, castles, churches, and walls, to have once been a
place of considerable note, and one of the principal towns in this
part of Spain. From the hill, on which it stands, there is a
commanding view, even to the mountains of Miravete. The square is
spacious and uniform, the houses built in the Moorish style, their
upper compartments projecting, so as to form a range of handsome
piazzas underneath, where all the most respectable shops are situated.
The windows above, opening to the plaza, are furnished with handsomely
ornamented verandas and balconies, in front of which are appended
solid iron bars. The fair Senoras occasionally display their charms at
those windows, during the cooler hours, decked out in holyday robes
and gaiest attire, imparting a brilliancy of effect to their balconies
which it would be impossible for the most costly works of art to
rival.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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