ashing a shirt amounted to my servant's taking it by
the collar, and giving it a couple of shakes in the water, and then
hanging it up to dry. Smoothing-irons were not the fashion of the
times, and, if a fresh well-dressed aide-de-camp did occasionally come
from England, we used to stare at him with about as much respect as
Hotspur did at his "waiting gentlewoman."

The winter here was uncommonly mild. I am not the sort of person to
put myself much in the way of ice, except on a warm summer's day; but
the only inconvenience that I felt in bathing, in the middle of
December, was the quantity of leeches that used to attach themselves
to my personal supporters, obliging me to cut a few capers to shake
them off, after leaving the water.

Our piquet-post, at the bridge, became a regular lounge, for the
winter, to all manner of folks.

I used to be much amused at seeing our naval officers come up from
Lisbon riding on mules, with huge ships' spy-glasses, like
six-pounders, strapped across the backs of their saddles. Their first
question invariably was, "Who is that fellow there," (pointing to the
enemy's sentry, close to us,) and, on being told that he was a
Frenchman, "Then why the devil don't you shoot him!"

Repeated acts of civility passed between the French and us during this
tacit suspension of hostilities. The greyhounds of an officer followed
a hare, on one occasion, into their lines, and they very politely
returned them.

I was one night on piquet, at the end of the bridge, when a ball came
from the French sentry and struck the burning billet of wood round
which we were sitting, and they sent in a flag of truce, next morning,
to apologize for the accident, and to say that it had been done by a
stupid fellow of a sentry, who imagined that people were advancing
upon him. We admitted the apology, though we knew well enough that it
had been done by a malicious rather than a stupid fellow, from the
situation we occupied.

General Junot, one day reconnoitring, was severely wounded by a
sentry, and Lord Wellington, knowing that they were at that time
destitute of every thing in the shape of comfort, sent to request his
acceptance of any thing that Lisbon afforded that could be of any
service to him; but the French general was too much of a politician to
admit the want of any thing.

CHAP. V.

Campaign of 1811 opens. Massena's Retreat. Wretched Condition of
the Inhabitants on the Line of March. Aff