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RECOLLECTIONS IN SPAIN AND PORTUGAL. TWO MONTHS RECOLLECTIONS OF THE WAR IN SPAIN AND PORTUGAL.

The following interesting account, extracted from the United Service Journal, is from the pen, or, to speak more correctly, the tongue of a blind private soldier. By a note appended to the communication it appears that he lives at Carrickfergus, upon a well earned pension, and that the article was dictated by him to an Irish schoolmaster:—-

“About the 5th of May we left Montijo, and the other corps composing our division, which had been quartered in the neighbouring villages, also moving at this time, the whole proceeded towards Badajoz, for the purpose of beseiging that fortress, then held by the French. We were stationed on the right or south bank of the river Guadiana, opposite Badajoz, to attack St. Christoval, a strong fort communicating with Badajoz by a massy bridge of twenty eight arches.

“A strong detachment of the enemy still remaining without their works, it was determined to drive them off. To effect this skirmishers were sent forward, who commenced a smart firing, while we advanced in line to their support. During this service the city and fort kept up a constant fire of shot and shells, and a large shot striking the ground in front of a section, cast up such a mass of earth and sand as completely to overwhelm the whole. We concluded that they were killed, but were soon agreeably surprised to see them getting up, shaking the earth from their clothes, and resuming their places in the ranks. Having accomplished the object of our attack, we placed a strong guard on the ground gained, while the greater part of those who had been engaged retired to the camp, about one mile and a half in the rear. On this night, which was very dark, I was on picket, close to the enemy's works; our officer (a Frenchman) kept us stepping slowly backwards and forwards the whole night, in rear of a chain of our sentinels, some of whom were not more than thirty paces from the pallisadoes of Fort St. Christoval. The silence of this tedious night was only broken by the solemn tones of the city clock, and the voices of their sentinels. We could hear distinctly the 'qui vive,' as they challenged on the ramparts, and every quarter of an hour their cautionary call, 'Sentinel, gardez vous,' 'Ho! sentinel, take care of yourself.' On the first streak of daylight we retired under shelter of a rising ground, but were greatly annoyed by the shot and shells from the garrison. If a shell dropped beside us, our only resource was to fall flat on the carth, and remain in that state till after the explosion. Watching those shells from the time the dull report of the mortar announced they had left the enemy's works, till they burst or fell, furnished us with ample matter for speculation, and even of mirth, at the desperate runnings on seeing them come near. On this day a detachment of Portuguese infantry of the regiment of Elvas, who had joined us the day before, were stationed in advance, and the shells falling freely about them, their officer, a portly citizen, commenced a precipitate retreat. When observed, he was running at a furious rate, and at his heels his men. Coming near we cheered, on which a sergeant, evidently ashamed, turned about, and rallying the greater number of the fugitives, came over to us; but his officer continued his route, taking a final leave of the glorious but perilous laurels of the tented field. The Portuguese, however, when under British officers, often evinced the utmost bravery, though their ranks were recruited by compulsory conscriptions. We often witnessed their levies arrive guarded by cavalry, and fastened together by ropes, in the manner convicts are sent off for transportation. These recruits were as dirty and ragged as can be well imagined; barefooted and covered with large broad brimmed hats; and at first sight they appeared as so many miserable old men; but when clothed we were often surprised to see them as it were metamorphosed into a body of athletic young fellows.

“Two evenings after I was ordered on a covering party; that is, a body of men who are to protect those about to cast up entrenchments, raise batteries, carry gabions, fascines, or any other work connected with the service. At dusk we moved from our camp, in the utmost silence, and, arriving in the vicinity of St. Christoval, we lay down flat beneath a rising ground, a little in rear of the place where intrenchments were about to be cast up. Then, with a slow and silent pace, came an engineer, heading the working party with picks, spades, and shovels; these were followed by others carrying gabions, which they laid down in rows a little in advance of where we were couched. The engineer now pointed out the intended works, afterwards called the grand battery, and the massy picks struck the earth; but never shall I forget the terrific noises that followed the breaking of that ground. For a time our ears and senses were alike astounded by the conflicting peals of the artillery and musketry, which, bursting at once on the stillness of the night gave such an appalling shock to us who were inactive spectators, as the oldest veterans had never experienced in their numerous conflicts. Occasionally the atmosphere was partially illuminated by the comet like fusees of the bombs in their passage towards us; in a few instances they burst in the air within view, thus affording us a momentary respite from the dread of their effects.

“In the mean time gabions continued to be brought up from the rear, and placed close to each other, six deep. Their carriage was truly a perilous service; the men were without shelter