Tagus on his left. He is apparently waiting for reinforcements, very badly off for provisions, with his ammunition wholly cut off. His situation is every day becoming more and more critical, and his difficulty of procuring subsistence for his army must be daily increasing. derable army is not despatched in time to his assistance, little less than a miracle can save him from ruin.

If a consi

cer

"Our army is healthy, well equipped in every respect, and regularly supplied with provisions. Our eating numbers, according to the commissary-general's returns, exceed thirty-five thousand men; and we tainly have seven or eight-and-twenty thousand bayonets in the field, exclusive of cavalry. The Portuguese may bring nearly the same number; in addition to which we have about seven thousand Spaniards with the Marquis of Romana,-a miserable mob, on which we have no reliance. I do not much like our position; it is too extensive to be strong, and there is great difficulty in communicating between the different posts, on account of the extreme badness of the roads at this season of the year.

"I hope you have enjoyed your health. I learn from General Este that my uncle continues in good health and spirits. I wrote to him by the last packet. Will you have the goodness to offer him my best respects, and say that I am perfectly well? With my best wishes, My dear Colonel, very faithfully yours,

We will add one to this from our own collection.

THOMAS PICTON."

Cadaceira, 31st Oct. 1810.

"MY DEAR SIR, “...... I shall say nothing to you about the action of Busaco, as you will have seen it in the Gazette-though not very clearly detailed. The serious attack was upon my division on the right, that on the left being a mere feint. The attack was made with great impetuosity, and en masse, but nothing could exceed the determined bravery of our troops, who repulsed them with the bayonet. I had only three British regiments and three Portuguese engaged with two divisions, and in the four different attacks they made upon different points of my position, the enemy must have lost, in killed and wounded, nearly 4,000.

"Massena appears to have got into a scrape, and in all probability will be obliged to yield up his laurels to his more fortunate adversary. He is in a most critical situation, without provisions, in an exhausted country, with his communication cut off. Another such an affair as that of Busaco will completely do him up, &c. &c.

"Your very faithful

"Humble servant,

"T. PICTON."

As we wish to relieve the mind of the reader a little from the contemplation of such glorious, but, at the same time, distressing scenes as are detailed in the foregoing correspondence, we will take leave to quote from Mr. Robinson the following interesting and very characteristic anecdote, connected with this victory.

"The night was cold, and the position occupied by the troops exposed them to the inclement blast which swept over the mountains; even the

hardy veteran shrank within his scanty covering. The young soldiers, however, and even the young officers, endured with much less patience their mountain couch. A party of these latter, (to one of whom we are indebted for this anecdote,) tired of the coldness of their situation, resolved to try whether the enemy were equally inactive: accordingly, Captain Urquhart, with Lieutenants Tyler, Macpherson, and Ouseley, of the 45th, walked down the steep slope towards the advanced posts occupied by the enemy, and arrived at the spot from whence the artillery had been withdrawn only a short time previously. Here they found some straw, which offered so strong a temptation to obtain a few minutes' repose, that each ensconced himself beneath a heap, and prepared to enjoy their good fortune. They were soon fast asleep; even the roll of the drums was unheeded; and the first sound that broke their rest was the clash of bayonets. This ominous sound effectually aroused them, and they scampered back to their regiments with admirable expedition,— a retrograde movement which was considerably accelerated by a strong impression that they could hear the enemy coming up the hill. Upon reaching their line, they found the regiments formed, and silently waiting the attack. To fall-in without being observed by the colonel (Mead) was out of the question: they had been long missed, and he had sent orderlies in all directions after them; and he now pounced upon them as they approached, full of indignation at this infringement upon military discipline. He called loudly to them, 'There you are! I'll report every one of you to the general; you shall all be tried for leaving your ranks while in front of the enemy!' Observing at this moment that they were attempting to fall-in and avoid further castigation, he assailed them with renewed eloquence. Stop, sirs, stop!—your names, for every one of you shall be punished, it's desertion; and a great deal more he would have added, but the French were on the move; and each officer having given his name, without waiting for any further observations, occupied his post in the ready-formed ranks, much chagrined at the unfortunate event of their expedition and its probable result; but the fight soon began, and every other thought was absorbed in the heat of battle. After the enemy had been repulsed, the firing ceased, and the allies were falling back upon Coimbra. Colonel Mead, who was a severe disciplinarian, and possessed a most inveterately good memory, resolved to fulfil his promise, and report the offending officers to General Picton. Seeing Lieutenant Macpherson, he called to him, and in a tone of severity said, 'Well, sir, you remember last night, I suppose?' Macpherson bowed with no enviable recollections. Ah, it's a breach of discipline not to be forgotten,' continued the colonel, with a stern and uncompromising look.

"Where is Urquhart?'

"Killed,' replied the lieutenant.

"Ah!' grunted out the disciplinarian, 'it's well for him. But where's Ouseley, sir?'

"Killed, sir,' again responded Macpherson.

"Bah!" exclaimed the colonel in a still louder tone, as if actually enraged at being thus deprived of the opportunity to punish their breach of military discipline. As a last resource, however, he inquired, "Where is Tyler?'

"Mortally wounded, sir,' was the reply.

"This was too much for the old colonel's patience; so, with a look of anger, not at all allied to either regret or repentance, he rode off, leaving his only remaining victim in a state of much uncertainty. Two days after this rencontre, Lieutenant Macpherson, having received a message from his friend Tyler, who with the rest of the wounded had been carried into Coimbra, requesting to see him, he applied to Colonel Mead for leave to visit the town, stating at the same time that his object in doing

6

so was to attend (as he thought) the dying moments of his friend.' The colonel had not, however, forgotten Macpherson's offence, and he took this opportunity to punish him. No, no,' said he in a voice which seemed to forbid all further solicitation, you sha'n't go; you haven't deserved it, sir; go to your duty.' Macpherson shortly after this met General Picton, and to him he stated the request which his chum Tyler had made, and Colonel Mead's refusal to grant him leave. Picton was indignant: What! not let you go!' he exclaimed in his usually forcible and energetic manner; 'd- me! you shall go-and tell Colonel Mead I say so; d'ye hear, sir?' The young lieutenant both heard and obeyed. Thanking the general, he set off first to deliver Picton's message to the infuriated colonel, who swore that all discipline had ceased in the army;' and then to Coimbra, where he found his friend Tyler not dead or dying, but wonderfully recovered from the severe wound which he had received, and prepared with an excellent breakfast for Macpherson and some more of his companions, whom he had contrived to allure into a participation of the good cheer he had provided, by the invitation to attend his dying moments.'

This is a valuable morceau, not only on account of the interest of the anecdote, and the grotesque causticity of Colonel Mead-a mead with but little honey in his composition; but as it affords a striking instance of the masked tenderness of Picton's heart, masked sometimes too effectually by an assumed austerity of manner.

We must also here just mention a ludicrous circumstance that provoked unlimited laughter amidst the thunders and the horrors of battle. Picton, in his hurry and absence of mind, had forgotten to take off his coloured cotton night-cap, and was accordingly seen with his hat in his hand, with his head thus grotesquely tricked out whereever the hottest of the battle raged. This was certainly a high offence in the eye of a martinet, gaining a victory in a night-cap.

However, ultimately the English, after many brilliant manœuvres, were forced to fall back into the lines prepared for them before Lisbon, the construction of which has shed so much renown upon Lord Wellington. In this place it is our pleasing duty to give the readers another original letter, as, though part of it contains a little pleasant censure, the other part is extremely valuable for the testimony that it bears to the noble duke, under whose orders he was then acting, and whose astonishing talents were daily developing themselves.

"MY DEAR SIR,

"Figarro, Feb. 6, 1811.

"I am much rejoiced at your victory over the Secretary of State. Entre nous, the governor is a weak man, wholly divested of any thing like firmness or independence of character. I find, by my letters, that Dr. Sanderson is become one of his most intimate friends!!

"Our relative situation, and those of the enemy, is nearly what it was six weeks ago. There has been a total suspension of all operations on both sides, and the two armies are perfectly quiet in winter quarters. The accounts by deserters and prisoners state, with little disagreement, that the enemy suffer greatly for want of provisions, forage, and supplies of all kinds; and there is no doubt but

the difficulty of procuring the primary indispensable articles for the support of the army, is daily increasing in an almost incalculable ratio. The impression upon my mind at present is, that the enemy will be under the necessity of falling back upon their resources: for I have no idea that it will be possible, during the winter months and rainy season, to forward adequate supplies from Salamanca, or any other depôts in Spain, considering the length and impracticability of the roads. Lord Wellington has certainly conducted the whole of this campaign with great ability and prudence; and no one can reasonably refuse him the character of a great general.

My dear Sir,

We will give an extract of another letter from behind these farfamed lines, as it affords us some little insight into the then state of Portugal.

"We still remain quiet in winter quarters, without any movement of consequence; the enemy apparently suffering great hardships from want of supplies, but continuing in the same position, and carrying on their communications with the frontiers of Spain with great difficulty, and by means of numerous detachments.

"Nothing can exceed the misery of this part of Portugal. Every article of human subsistence has long been consumed or destroyed. The poor inhabitants are kept from perishing by the contributions of the officers (British) of the different divisions of the army. This division daily feeds above three hundred: but for this resource, the greater part must have perished.

My dear Sir,

All the world knows that Massena, after wasting his resources before Torres Vedras was obliged to retreat discomfited before an army of not one-third his numerical force. In addition to the account of these operations to be found in Mr. Robinson's work, we add a letter of our own from General Picton, which will be read with the greatest interest.

"MY DEAR SIR,

"Amedillia, Spain, 18th April.

"I have had the pleasure of receiving your letter of the 12th of March, and one by Mr. whom I took the earliest opportunity of recommending to the particular attention of Mr. Kennedy, the commissary-general, who, I am sure, will give him every opportunity of becoming useful to the public, and eventually to himself. This letter is written, as you will not fail to observe, from Spain. We

have effectually driven the French out of Portugal, with the single exception of Almeida, (where they have a small garrison,) which we have invested, but cannot besiege, for want of battering cannon; but as it is entirely cut off from any possible communication with the French army in Spain, it must submit in the course of a few weeks. Whilst we have been employed in pursuing Massena, the rascally Spaniards took an opportunity of treacherously giving the enemy possession of Badajos, which obliged Lord Wellington, in the midst of his movements after Massena, to detach Sir W. C. Beresford, and a principal division of the army, consisting of sixteen British regiments, and nearly as many Portuguese battalions, to oppose Marshal Mortier, who is now shut up in Badajos with about five thousand. If he succeeds in compelling him to surrender, as we confidently hope he will, the business of Portugal will be completely settled for some time; but from all I have seen of the Spaniards, I have little, indeed no hopes of their ever being able to do any thing.

"I find Maitland goes out to Sicily; he will be an honour to his country wherever he is employed.

"If any thing can be done to prevent my being engaged with Mr. M'Donald's affairs, pray endeavour to effect it. I would willingly make great sacrifices to get rid of this last West Indian concern, which hangs so heavily about my neck.

Nothing can be worse than the existing government of this country, and unless the Princess Regent of Portugal determines to get rid of all the rascally factions, by appointing Lord Wellington Vice-Regent, with full powers to administer the government, every thing will shortly be as bad as ever here. The Portuguese army, for want of being properly recruited, is rapidly falling off every day. They scarcely bring twenty thousand bayonets into the field now, and in the course of another year they will not bring fifteen thousand, unless some more effectual mode of executing the existing laws be had recourse to. Two regiments attached to my division, the establishment of which is two thousand five hundred men, do not bring one thousand two hundred into the field, and this is pretty generally the proportion throughout the army. The men are well disposed, good subjects, and I have found them, on all occasions, show an excellent spirit, and no want of courage in the face of the enemy.

"Your very faithful,

"Humble servant,

"T. PICTON."

At this period, Picton's fame rose rapidly. The troops under his command were called, par excellence, the fighting division, and he and they were in continual contact with the enemy. As we beat the enemy out of Portugal, Picton was continually opposed to the gallant and unfortunate Ney, who commanded the rear-guard of the French; and our hero (for such we have a right to call him) pays the marshal very high and merited eulogium. We cannot here record the almost daily battles that took place between divisions and brigades. The battle of Fuentes de Onoro ensued, and added fresh laurels to the leader of "the fighting division." In the mean time, Wellington, wishing