The din and clamour of a mighty city mingled with the far-off sounds of military music; and, in the vistas of the opening streets, masses of troops might be seen, in marching order.  All betokened the near approach of war.

On the morning after we landed, Power rode off with dispatches to headquarters, leaving me to execute two commissions with which he had been entrusted—­a packet for Hammersly from Miss Dashwood and an epistle from a love-sick midshipman who could not get on shore, to the Senhora Inez da Silviero.  I took up the packet for Hammersly with a heavy heart.  Alas! thought I, how fatally may my life be influenced by it!

The loud call of a cavalry trumpet roused me, and I passed out into the street for the morning’s inspection.  The next day I delivered the packet to the Senhora Inez, by whom I was warmly received—­rather more on my own account than on that of the little midshipman, I fancied.  Certainly I never beheld a being more lovely, and I found myself paying her some attentions.  Yet she was nothing to me.  It is true, she had, as she most candidly informed me, a score of admirers, among whom I was not even reckoned; she was evidently a coquette.  On May 7, 1809, we set off for Oporto.  The 14th were detailed to guard the pass to the Douro until the reinforcements were up, and then I saw my first engagement.  Never till now, as we rode to the charge, did I know how far the excitement reaches when, man to man, sabre to sabre, we ride forward to the battlefield.  On we went, the loud shout of “Forward!” still ringing in our ears.  One broken, irregular discharge from the French guns shook the head of our advancing column, but stayed us not as we galloped madly on.

I remember no more.  The din, the smoke, the crash—­the cry for quarter, mingled with the shout of victory, the flying enemy—­are all commingled in my mind, but leave no trace of clearness or connection between them; and it was only when the column wheeled to re-form that I awoke from my trance of maddening excitement, and perceived that we had carried the position and cut off the guns of the enemy.

The scene was now beyond anything, maddening in its interest.  From the walls of Oporto the English infantry poured forth in pursuit; while the whole river was covered with boats, as they still continued to cross over.  The artillery thundered from the Sierra, to protect the landing, for it was even still contested in places; and the cavalry, charging in flank, swept the broken ranks and bore down their squares.  Then a final impetuous charge carried the day.

From that fight I got my lieutenancy, and then was sent off by Sir Arthur Wellesley on special duty to the Lusitanian Legion in Alcantara—­a flattering position opened to my enterprise.  Before I set out, I was able to deliver Miss Dashwood’s packet to Captain Hammersly, barely recovered from a sabre wound.  His agitation and his manner in receiving it puzzled me greatly, though my own agitation was scarcely less.