Rolica, Vimiero and a day off

Today we left Luso and the site of Busaco, and drove to the seaside, taking in two battle sites on the way. They are Wellington’s two earliest battles in Portugal, Rolica and Vimiero. The British troops were landed on the coast further north by boat, by the navy. Wellington immediately marched towards Lisbon, aiming to prevent the French forces from joining up, and succeeded in having a numerical advantage at both battles, which was unusual for him.

Grave of Colonel Lake, a gallant officer

At Rolica, the usual Wellington strategy was reversed – he attacked up a slope, to the French army positioned on a ridge. In fact, he was trying to outflank them, but the 20^th foot, led by their Colonel Lake, launched an assault up a gully and got massacred, so that Wellington had to order a frontal assault. The ridge was gained and the French forced to retreat. Colonel Lake was buried on the ridge by his men, and there is a cross erected by his fellow officers, in memory of his valour, but I bet Wellington was furious. He is supposed to have said that there was nothing so stupid as a gallant officer.

With Vimiero, we were back to the usual style – he was positioned on a ridge, and although the French arrived from the “wrong” direction, he was able to manoeuvre the lines round and beat off five assaults. It’s very interesting to realise how vital drill was – it wasn’t, in those days, about looking good, it was vital in battles for the men to be able to wheel and turn in formation, and to fire in unison.

Wellington (Sir Arthur Wellesley as he was then) had already been superseded as commander by Burrard, and luckily Burrard had not yet disembarked. Wellesley’s brother suggested that Junot had been bribed by Wellesley, to attack before Burrard could take command!

We also had a sidetrip to the abbey at Batalha. King Joao I seized the throne to prevent the Spanish taking over Portugal. The abbey is to thank the Virgin for his victory – but he was also helped by a few hundred English longbow men. He then married Philippa of Lancaster, John of Gaunt’s daughter, in 1387. She brought English architects, so the abbey inside is English perpendicular, and very high and plain, and it feels oddly like home. Although you don’t normally get swifts zooming in and round and out of York Minster. Outside the Portuguese have got at it, so it’s all weird twiddly bits.

Philippa was the mother of Prince Henry the Navigator, who started the Portuguese on their voyages of discovery.

Me, in the pool

We finally reached the coast and our hotel, which is another triumph. It’s right on the beach, with a huge room with private balcony, and a 50 metre salt water swimming pool. It’s wonderful. There’s a lovely fresh wind off the Atlantic and one can watch the sun go down into the sea. We’re planning on doing nothing very much tomorrow.

Tomorrow (Tuesday 19^th)

We have kept our resolution and done nothing much. One reason for this is that driving yesterday was quite stressful and we need a rest from it. First, you are not supposed to do more than 50km/hour in villages, so there I am, driving through a long, long village, with a colossal truck a foot from the bumper.  I am not exaggerating. This was not good for my nerve, and then poor Phil, realising we’d passed the turning we needed, backed on to a track to turn round. There was the most terrible bang and lurch. The left hand back wheel had gone into a completely uncovered manhole! While we were staring at it in dismay, a man stopped his car, and another who was walking came over, and helped us lift it out. Thank heavens for good Samaritans, and thank heavens it’s a small car, so that we could lift it out. As it has a wheel at each corner with no overhang, there’s no apparent damage. Once we’d got back on the road, you couldn’t see the manhole at all, even though we were only three yards away. But the incident pretty much did for both of our nerves. We were hugely relieved to reach the hotel and switch off the engine.

The weather has been cloudless blue skies and sun, and the wind off the Atlantic keeps you cool, so I have got a bit overdone. Phil was very good, though, sitting under an umbrella, and he’s fine. The pool is wonderful – it is about 9 feet deep at one end and there are diving boards, and the most people I’ve ever seen in it at one time is seven. We walked right along the beach – there’s nothing much here, the hotel, a block of flats, a surfing shop and about four café/restaurants. At the other end of the beach the rock strata are completely vertical, which is worth seeing.

And we’re now recovered – so the lines of Torres Vedras tomorrow.

The beach at Praia Grande