THE town of St Sebastian, previous to the siege, was one of the handsomest in Spain. It is situated on a tongue of land, running nearly east and west - the northern side of which is washed by the river Gurumea, and the southern by the sea. On the termination of this peninsula, and immediately over the town, rises an immense rock, on the summit of which stands the castle. A short distance to the south lies the island of Santa Clara, then in possession of the British, on which a battery had been erected, and manned with seamen.
The surrounding country is beautifully romantic. Rising, as it recedes from the sea, it forms delightful varieties of hill and dale - rocks and ravines, skirted with groves, and wooded with cork, plane and birch-trees, till it swells at last into the stupendous mountains of the lower Pyrenees. Such was the scene on which I gazed, from the heights which covered our camp on the morning of the 8th of September. The coast of Spain was seen stretching away like a mist-wreath along the ocean - the sea was bright and calm: not a cloud obscured the sky: not a breath of air stirred the leaves, or broke upon the surrounding silence - when all at once, on a signal being made, fifty-four pieces of artillery opened their fire upon the castle with such a crash of thunder, as if heaven and earth were coming together. Immediately after the flash and cloud from the batteries below, fragments of the castle wall were seen tumbling down, and the fire was kept up with such unceasing and tremendous effect, that about one o clock p. m. a flag of truce was hoisted at the Mirador battery, and terms of capitulation proposed, which were agreed to. The French troops amounting to 1836 men, including the sick and wounded, were to surrender, and the 5th division of the British army marched into the town to receive them, the bands of music of the various regiments playing the favourite march, "See the Conquering Hero comes!" Our troops were drawn up along the ramparts, and in a short time we perceived the French garrison, headed by their commander General Rey, slowly advancing from the castle, and wending down the side of the rock in long serpentine lines, by its only narrow pathway. Upon arriving in the town, immediately below the place where we were stationed, the garrison threw down their arms with an air of indignation; and at that moment a feu-de-joye was fired from the battery at the termination of the trenches, after which, Sir Thomas Graham and General Rey stepping out from their respective troops, met and shook hands, and doubtless experienced
"The stern joy which warriors feel
In foemen worthy of their steel."
Along with the garrison were three ladies, the wife and daughters of a French commissary. A British officer escorted them from the scene of confusion, and they were permitted to return to France.
The castle had been defended by the French with the utmost gallantry, and, from the devastations of our shot and shells, which every part of it exhibited, was evidently no longer tenable. It commanded a fine view of the coast of France, from which, notwithstanding the vigilance of our ships of war, provisions had been thrown into the garrison by means of boats during the night.
The recollection of St Sebastian will haunt me as long as live. It exhibited a scene sufficient to blanch the hair and to wither the heart. Many of the streets were blown up into hills of rubbish. Not a house was left entire - not a living thing was to be seen - not a sound did I hear but the echo of my own foot-falls through the lonely streets, or the wind as it moaned away through that city of the dead which stood in all the blackness of recent ruin, far more appalling than the grass-grown streets and ivyed walls which time has renovated with the freshness of nature, sheding beauty over desolation. Around the trenches the dead in some instances had been buried; but so partially, that their feet and hods were frequently to be seen above the turf, with the flesh mouldering away, and the bones whitening in the air. Along the ramparts and streets, they lay in groups, even as they had been mown down; and innumerable heads, legs, and arms, were strown around, in the various stages of decay, and mangled and half-devoured by birds of prey, Numbers of dead bodies also, were floating beneath the walls, followed by swarms of fishes. The effluvia was dreadful; but I will no longer dwell upon the scene of horror.
After the surrender of the castle, we were quartered in the convent of St Bartholome, situated upon the first range of heights facing the sea; but, in a few days, we received orders to join the main body of the army, then encamped among the Pyrenees. We commenced our march on a sultry day in September - the heat being so excessive, that numbers of the men dropt down along the line of march, and in the evening arrived at our place of destination, where we pitched our tents. Our camp occupied a considerable extent of undulating ground at the foot of the lower Pyrenees; and during the days we remained there, I made many delightful excursions among their never to-be-forgotten scenes.
Perhaps there is no country in Europe in so many respects interesting as Spain. It possesses the various modifications of the sublime and beautiful, arising from vast mountains and plains, to which is added the moral interest of the most romantic associations, connected with its Moorish wars, - its legends of chivalry and love, and the dark superstition by which it is overspread, - its early connection with the East, and, in later times, with the West, whence its very history becomes romance.
Above our camp, and a little to the east, towered the gigantic mountain La Rhune, from which descends the lesser chain, betwixt whose termination and the sea, lies the great pass to Bayonne, and, in the opposite direction, that of the far-famed Roncesvalles and the Puerto del Maya. On a beautiful October evening I ascended a mountain, immediately above the camp, and shall never forget the glorious scene which expanded around me. I stood among the rocks and hills which overhang the Bidassoa, the river which forms the line of division betwixt Spain and France. Seen from these heights, it appeared like a thread of silver winding among the glens beneath, and stretching away in long serpentine mazes to the sea, below Fontarabia. On the one hand lay the boundless plains of France, watered with many streams, and sprinkled with chateaux and villages; and on the other, the wild and variegated scenery of Spain, with its romantic towns gleaming in the distance. To the west the ocean spread like a sheet of fire, beneath the descending sun. Around me were a congregated train of mighty hills, towering over rocks and ravines, and mantled with forests, then touched with the waning tints of October; while the more distant and gigantic mountains were covered with snow, but flushed to a rose-tinge in the glow of the evening sky.
Separated only by the Bidassoa, were various French, British and Spanish regiments, at their evening parade - their arms glancing in the setting sun, and the martial or mournful strains of their native lands, performed by their bands of music, rising amid the calm, and mellowed by distance, came floating up the mountain-glens like strains of Fairyland. At intervals were heard the sound of bugles from the woods - the tinkling of bells from distant flocks, and the far-off song of the Spanish muleteer. But while I lingered on the scene, the sun went down - the hills grew gray - the music ceased; and I heard nothing but the whispering of woods - the moan of streams, and the sigh of the night-winds, which gave place, as I approached the camp, to the hum of living voices, and the loud and careless laugh of the soldiers assembled round the forest-fires, which threw their red and spectral gleams upon the surrounding groups.
On the 6th of October, I had strayed about a mile from the camp. It was noon - "mid-day was in flames, and silence over all the hills." I seated myself by the side of a stream, and in watching its waters gliding away, I felt a sense of drowsiness stealing over me, when I was suddenly roused from my reverie by the sound of a heavy tread, and, upon looking up, observed an officer on horseback approaching slowly along the banks of the stream. He bowed - reined in his horse for a moment, and asked me, if I had heard the news. Upon my answering in the negative, he replied - "To-morrow we are to attack the enemy, and to enter France." Having said this, he passed on. I immediately returned to the camp, in order to make preparations for a march, the order for which arrived in the evening.
After sunset, I walked out among the surrounding hills, along with a young officer, who had joined the army about the same time with myself. It was the most momentous evening of our lives, being that of battle, whose fiery ordeal neither of us had as yet passed. I believe we both felt that we had many things to say, yet we continued our walk in profound silence. At last we were warned to return to the camp by the sudden darkening of the sky, over which dense masses of clouds began to collect, swathing the mountains in a purple pall. The storm at length burst - the thunder broke forth - peal on peal - louder and deeper as it rolled away through the mountain-glens, seeming to rend the very hills that reverberated its roar; while every now and then the highlands, with all their woods and torrents, would start from darkness into light, amid the broad and sheeted gleams of fire.
I have heard it remarked by old campaigners, that similar storms had generally preceded the great battles in which they had been engaged. I know not whether they drew any inferences from such observations, but I believe a man is never more apt to be superstitious than on the eve of a battle. Upon returning to the camp, I found the men had been ordered to take a few hours rest, preparatory to the business of the morrow. I took advantage of the order also, and retired to my tent; but my mind was in a state of too much excitement to permit me to sleep. A host of long slumbering recollections came crowding over me. I thought of my home, and of the friends I might never see again, - of the scenes of death in which a few hours would see me engaged, - and that I might be among the number of those who were taking their last hour of earthly rest.
I have occasionally met with men who professed to have no such feelings, and who boasted that, when in similar circumstances, they never once had a thought or a fear of death. Let us hope, for the honour of humanity and of themselves, that this was not true, and that they had been induced to say so from an idea, that a contrary confession might be construed into a want of courage. But surely a mere brute insensibility to danger, goaded on by animal impulse, is not entitled to the name; and, however paradoxical the assertion may seem, where there is no sense of fear, there can be no courage. True bravery consists in the exertion of a great mental energy, by which we are enabled to overcome the shrinkings of nature, and to rise superior to the fear of death; and consequently it includes these feelings.
I was roused from my somewhat melancholy reflections about midnight by the roll of the drum; and, starting up, beheld the camp in motion, and the troops forming, in dense and undefined masses, amid the surrounding darkness. Just as we were marching off the ground, I heard the voice of weeping; and looking around, beheld a woman locked in the farewell embrace of her husband, from whom she was parting as they do who have no hopes ever to meet again. Under shadow of the night we descended from the hills, along broken ground and ravines skirted with woods, and marched in profound silence towards the Bidassoa, over the meadow ground below Fontarabia. So strongly is every circumstance of that night impressed upon my memory, that I recollect the very perfume of the flowers over which we trode.
Along the Spanish side of the Bidassoa was erected a line of defence, consisting of a broad and pretty high wall of turf, having a ditch behind it. Upon this wall the Spanish sentries continually walked to and fro, as did the French ones on the opposite side of the river - the right of their army occupying a position in front of Andaye. We moved on in breathless silence till we reached the wall, and concealed ourselves in the ditch behind; while our pioneers, with the greatest possible silence, cut out several large openings in it, through which we might pass. The storm, which had long died away, was succeeded by a dead calm; the moon had set; and though there were stars in heaven, the night was unusually dark. One sound alone was heard, and it made the surrounding silence more sensibly felt. It was the noise of the cannon and pontoons rolling from the rear - deep and heavy as the moan of a torrent, or the sound of a distant sea.
During the time that we lay silent and motionless behind the wall, the moments seemed lengthened to hours, and I thought the dawning would never break. Though life and death were in its approach, I wished it would come - the state of excited expectation became so intolerable. At length, a dull leaden gray began to steal over the sky, and the eastern horizon to wax wan. Immediately our bugles sounded the advance, and we rushed out at the openings in the wall which had been made by the pioneers, and dashed into the river. The water was middle-deep, so that the men were obliged to hold up their arms and ammunition. Our plunge into the river was echoed by the fire of the French sentries, who, having discharged their pieces, retired with the utmost rapidity. Their outposts took the alarm; and collecting among the orchards and undulating ground on the opposite banks, commenced a hot skirmish with our light companies and Brunswickers; but it was evident they had been taken by surprise. I was then attached to the light company, and in a few moments found myself fairly under fire. The first thing which attracted my attention was the long melancholy whistle of the spent balls; but, as we approached nearer the enemy, they flew past in full force, with a noise resembling the chirping of birds.
In descending towards a narrow valley, we saw the French Tirailleurs on the opposite side taking deliberate aim at us - a most unpleasant discovery, and not a little trying to the nerves of a young soldier; - however, there was no time for thinking, so we made a race at them, and in a few moments they began to retire. Some of their officers endeavoured to stop them, apparently by alternate persuasions and threats. They advanced to the front, waved their swords, and, by their wild and earnest gestures, seemed to be in the very agonies of shame and despair; but all in vain. This circumstance seems to justify the observation, that instances of cowardice, which occur in the French army, are to be found among the common soldiers, and scarcely ever among the officers, while in the British army the reverse is said to be the case. But this is a theory which, like many other theories, would require the evidence of facts. My observation and experience are against it, in as far as it is applied to British officers.
The enemy made a running fight of it, however, rallying, and facing about upon the surrounding heights, from which they were driven in succession for a considerable time. At last, they appeared in great force upon a range of hills, and our light companies fell back upon the regiments advancing to dislodge them. As we marched up the hills in column, their shot and shells, which were fired with great precision and rapidity, did considerable execution. They did not wait for our charge, however, but fled with the utmost celerity, leaving us in possession of the range of heights, and several pieces of cannon. During a short pause, which ensued at this period of the action, I had time to look around me, and survey the surrounding scene. The smoke, which hung over the hills, as it began partially to clear away, resembled a torn curtain, through which I obtained occasional glimpses of Spain and France through the vistas of the pass [sic] Our troops were seen emerging from the vales below, and winding around the hills. Long lines of bayonets would suddenly jet up from gorge and glen - flash their light upon the eye, and then as suddenly disappear, as if swallowed up by the earth. In our rear a seemingly interminable train of cavalry and artillery were in the act of crossing the Bidassoa; while in front were seen the enemy's camp, and their dense columns forming on the high grounds. Our light troops again advanced to the front, and the skirmishing became as hot as ever. The enemy, at the same time, opened a heavy cannonade upon our columns; but, at that moment, covered by clouds of dust, and welcomed with long and wild huzzas, our flying artillery came up at full gallop, and immediately opened such a destructive fire upon the enemy, that they very soon gave way in all directions. We did not pursue them far, however, being called back by the sound of the bugle.
In retracing my steps along the main road, I observed a French soldier lying stretched on his back, but exhibiting symptoms of life in the quivering of his limbs, and the convulsive startings of his feet. I approached, and, looking down upon him, beheld a large aperture in his head, exhibiting a frightful mass of blood and brain. Several French and British soldiers were lying at no great distance from him, but they were all dead. I turned from the sight of horror, and walked away. The evening was bright and calm, and the birds were singing in their bowers; but at that moment the serene aspect and the glad voice of nature seemed shocking; for they impressed the painful feeling, that she had no sympathy with man; that her smiles are shed alike on his festal hour, and his dying agony; and that her roses bloom equally bright in his bridal garland, and on his mouldering tomb.
Upon arriving at the regiment, I saw the officers collecting upon the green slope of one of the heights, from which the enemy had been driven. Life has few scenes that may vie with that of which I now speak - the return from a victory. There were shaking of hands, and the mutual congratulations of those who had returned unscathed. And in this instance the feelings of pride and of triumph were not checked and chilled, as they almost always are, by the fall of friends. One by one they returned - "no wanderer lost;' [sic] and the moments of meeting were worth years of common life.
One point of their position the enemy still possessed, which was a rock and hermitage upon the summit of Mount La Rhune. It was now attacked by our troops, while the shades of night were beginning to fall. Our distance from the scene of action was so great, that we heard no sound; but all eyes were attracted to the mountain, by the rapid and vivid flashes of the musketry around its summit, which seemed, amidst the darkness, like a shower of fire from the crater of a volcano. The position, however, was not carried till the following morning.
Meantime, our baggage arrived from the rear - the tents were pitched - fires were kindled - and the operations of war being concluded for the day - the no less necessary, and somewhat more pleasant process of cooking commenced. For the first time since the preceding evening, we had an opportunity of breaking our fast; and after discussing the business of the day together, with a due proportion of grog and cigars, we stretched ourselves along our tents, and slept in what Soult called the "sacred territory of France."
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