Let us listen to him as he tells the story in his own way and from his own point of view.
You must know, my friends, said he, that it was towards the end of the year eighteen hundred and ten that I and Massena and the others pushed Wellington backwards until we had hoped to drive him and his army into the Tagus.

But when we were still twenty-five miles from Lisbon we found that we were betrayed, for what had this Englishman done but build an enormous line of works and forts at a place called Torres Vedras, so that even we were unable to get through them! They lay across the whole Peninsula, and our army was so far from home that we did not dare to risk a reverse, and we had already learned at Busaco that it was no child's play to fight against these people.

What could we do, then, but sit down in front of these lines and blockade them to the best of our power?
There we remained for six months, amid such anxieties that Massena said afterwards that he had not one hair which was not white upon his body.

For my own part, I did not worry much about our situation, but I looked after our horses, who were in great need of rest and green fodder.

For the rest, we drank the wine of the country and passed the time as best we might.