THE position which the left of our army occupied at this period, consisted of a range of hilly ground, extending from the mountains to the sea, divided by narrow valleys and ravines from the right of the enemy, which was posted in a strong position in front of St Jean de Luz: and in this situation both armies remained quiet for about a month.
Our time was unvaried, and unoccupied by any thing better than morning and evening parades, and short excursions to the rear. The most picturesque scene that our camp exhibited, was the space occupied by the German light troops, who, during the twilight, sate in groups before the doors of their tents, canopied in clouds of tobacco-smoke, chanting together their native airs and anthems. They seemed to be more at home in the field than our soldiers, and had the art of making up a very palatable mess out of the simplest materials. During this period of inaction, we formed frequent little convivial parties in our tents, though we had then little else than our rations to subsist upon. These consisted of a certain modicum of rice, rum, hard biscuit, and beef of the most wretched quality, so tough and lean as to resemble boiled leather. At these festivals, the first course generally consisted of soup, made of beef boiled to rags - course second, beef roasted - course third, beef stewed - and course fourth, beef steaks. A good appetite, however, did more for us than could have been done by the most refined system of cookery, with all "means and appliances to boot." Though it generally happens that the officers of a company have only one tent among them, I was fortunate enough, at this period, to share one with only another officer. During the evenings we were occasionally visited by a German, a captain of the corps of Brunswick-Oels, who was the most perfect specimen of a genuine Atheist I had ever met with. Upon being asked, by what means he had arrived at the sublime conclusion that there was no God? - "By the simplest in the world," said he, "as I shall show you in a moment." He then produced a small empty flask, in which he commonly carried his allowance of rum; and withdrawing the cork, and holding it in an inverted position, "You see," (said he), "there is nothing in it." My friend replied, that he could not conceive what that circumstance had to do with his demonstration. - "Have patience," said he, "and I will show you. He then held up the flask, and raising his eyes towards heaven, in mock devotion, requested that the Deity would fill it with rum. Then inverting it as before, "You see," (said he), "it is still empty, and therefore it is quite clear that there is no God!" Our horror at his impiety was almost lost in a feeling of the ludicrous.
Winter had now commenced with heavy rains and violent hail-showers, and our situation in camp became extremely uncomfortable, as the ground, even in the inside of our tents, was little better than a mire. One night about this time, I happened to command a picquet, the main body of which was divided from that of the enemy by a narrow ravine, at the bottom of which the advanced sentries of each approached so near each other, as to hear the challenge of their respective officers on their nightly rounds. It was a fearful night - a night of utter darkness, which was only broken by the pale and spectral gleams of the moon, breaking at intervals through the clouds racking wildly over her. The storm roared through the woods, and the rain descended in torrents. The men sat crouching round the watch-fires, benumbed with cold and drenched with rain, spreading their hands over the dying embers, which emitted nothing but smoke - when I heard one of them say to his comrades, "God grant that we may have a battle immediately, or that I may soon be dead!"
Owing to the great privations and sufferings of the army about this time, desertions were very frequent; as additional inducements to which, slips of paper were dropt by the French sentries, containing promises of protection, and of passports to their native countries, to all such as would desert; and warnings of the utter ruin that would attend the hopeless attempt of penetrating farther into "the sacred territory of France." These documents were printed in the English, Spanish, and Portuguese languages; and being frequently blown over to our lines, were picked up by the sentries. In order to counteract these delusions, Wellington caused an exposure of them to be read at the head of every regiment at parades, informing the men, that instead of obtaining ease and liberty, they would be sent to labour at the various works and fortifications in the interior; and that passports to their native countries from the enemy would lead to inquiries which would subject them to the punishment of death. This measure seemed to have the desired effect; for desertions gradually became less frequent, and, in a short time, ceased altogether.
The rains had ceased for a few days, and every thing was quiet, when, on the night of the 8th November, after my friend and I had retired to rest, a sergeant entered our tent, and informed us that an order had arrived for the regiment to move from its ground two hours before daybreak. As this augured a busy day, we determined to make the most of our time, and endeavoured to obtain a little sleep; but about two hours afterwards the sergeant again returned, to inform us that the orders had been countermanded. About midnight, on the 9th, similar orders were received, and before daybreak the troops were under arms, and the tents were struck. We moved from our ground towards the French outposts, leaving our watch-fires blazing through the night, opposite to those of the enemy. We marched on in silence, until we nearly reached the bottom of a ravine, which separated the advanced sentries of the two armies; and here, under cover of a stunted wood, we were ordered to lie down.
The right of the French army, which we were about to attack, occupied a position immediately in front of St Jean de Luz, on the Spanish side of the river Nevell, while the centre and left extended along the opposite bank, and occupied the villages and mountains in the vicinity. Their outposts occupied a range of heights on the opposite side of the ravine in which we lay, commanding the first approach to the position in front of St Jean de Luz, which was so strongly fortified as to render an attack in front impracticable. At the first peep of dawn a gun was fired as a signal for the onset, and we rushed across the ravine, and began to ascend the opposite heights, under a sharp fire of musketry. The enemy were quickly dislodged however, and we moved along the top of the ridge towards the left. During this movement, we were enfiladed by a fire from some other batteries and intrenchments, and lost some men. I observed that the road along which we passed was thickly sprinkled with blood. In a short time we received orders to halt, and to occupy those outworks of the enemy's position, where we remained unmolested during the remainder of the day, and from whence we had a magnificent view of the battle on the centre and right. By a variety of masterly movements and desperate attacks, the villages and intrenched positions occupied by the enemy's centre were successively carried, in the face of a heavy fire of cannon and musketry. About noon we began to distinguish the distant roar of battle among the mountains upon the right, and shortly afterwards, while the thunder rolled and roared through the glens of the Pyrenees, we could see the smoke "volumed and vast," soaring in dark wreaths along the sides of the mountains, and overhanging their summits - and at last, by the aid of glasses, we could distinguish the columns of the enemy emerging from their strongholds, and those of the British charging them up and down the hills. It was a glorious sight to him who had "no friend or brother there." Night closed the battle, and two lines of watch-fires indicated the positions of both armies, and showed that the British troops occupied the last range of the mountains, and that the French were driven into the plains below.
During the night, I reposed under the shelter of an old tree, but could not sleep, being every now and then obliged to get up and walk about to prevent my limbs from being benumbed with the cold, which was most intense. About midnight, we heard the report of a gun in the direction of the enemy's lines, which was the signal for their retreat. Morning dawned at last, but we remained stationary for some time afterwards, in consequence of a thick fog, which rendered it impossible to reconnoitre the enemy's position in front.
As soon as the mist began to clear away, we commenced our advance, preceded by the light companies, and ascended the hill which the enemy had rendered so formidable by redoubts and batteries; but not a gun was fired. In a short time, we began to distinguish the forms of sentries through the haze, which, upon a nearer approach, turned out to be men of straw, left as a decoy, presenting to us the most undaunted and soldier-like attitudes. Upon reaching the top of the hill, we looked down upon the town of St Jean de Luz, and observed that a bridge over the river, by which it was approached, was blown up. Having halted about half an hour, we marched down the hill, and forded the river a little way above the site of the bridge, and entered the town amidst a scene of general confusion. During the short time we remained there, crowds of disorderly soldiers attempted to enter the houses for the purpose of pillage, when the Provost-marshal suddenly made his appearance on horseback, armed with a long horse-whip, which he applied so effectually, as, in a short time, to restore tranquillity. From St. Jean de Luz, we continued our march in pursuit of the enemy, who had retired upon the village of Bidart, situated on the high road to Bayonne, and towards evening, we halted upon a field a little way from the high road; and as our tents had not arrived from the rear, we were obliged to bivouac in the wet clothes in which we had forded the river -
"With nothing but the sky for a great-coat."
In this state we lay around such fires as we could make shift to kindle, but passed a most uncomfortable night. Next day, we discovered that the enemy had retired within an intrenched camp in front of Bayonne, which had been fortifying ever since the battle of Vittoria, and which was too formidable to be carried by a direct assault. After remaining a few days longer in camp, under torrents of rain, we received orders to strike our tents, and to occupy certain detached houses and villages in the neighbourhood.
A small-farm house, which had been deserted by the inhabitants, was assigned as winter-quarters to myself and two other officers. It was certainly a miserable hovel, but at that time it appeared to me a most blessed abode. Never shall I forget the delight with which I once more beheld a roof over my head, illuminated by the cheerful blaze of a wood fire. After our sufferings during the long stormy winter nights among the mountains, our entrance into winter-quarters, humble as they were, seemed like a return from savage to civilized life.
Hitherto, as our army advanced into France, the inhabitants of the chateaux and villages fled at their approach, and retired into the interior; but no sooner did Wellington issue a proclamation, stating that the persons and property of the inhabitants would be protected, than they came back in hundreds; and the great road to Bayonne was covered with crowds returning to their homes. It was a beautiful sight to behold the peasants, accompanied by their wives and children, passing unmolested through the very midst of a hostile army, and returning to their quiet occupations. Such courtesies, among civilized nations, shed a softening influence over war, and divest it of half its horrors.
Nothing gave these poor people so much pleasure as to have the British officers inmates of their families. In them they always found friends, and a protection from the Spanish and Portuguese troops, who, in the blind spirit of retaliation, committed many outrages on the unoffending inhabitants. Nor was this much to be wondered at, when we considered the unheard-of horrors which the French invaders brought upon their respective countries. In all cases, however, where complaints were made, the facts were inquired into, and the offenders severely punished.
As every thing now indicated tranquillity, our time passed pleasantly enough in shooting excursions - convivial parties, and visits to St Jean de Luz, where Wellington had established his headquarters, and which was a scene of the greatest gaiety. There might be seen the officers of the Guards, and all the aristocracy of the British army, dashing about through the streets, bedizened with gold and silver. And there, too, dressed in a plain blue surtout, a white cravat, and a round hat, might be seen The Great Captain himself, lounging about and looking at the markets, calm and unconcerned, as if he were merely a passing traveller, having nothing to do but amuse himself. In this manner, he has often been seen strolling about on the evening preceding a battle - a proof of his strong and decisive mind, confident in its own resources, holding no councils of war, and consulting none; for his generals never knew when a battle was to be fought, until the orders to that effect arrived, which was generally at a late hour on the night preceding the attack.
The main body of the enemy had now retired within the lines of defence, forming the intrenched camp before Bayonne. Their left occupied a peninsula formed by the confluence of the Adour and the Nive. Their right and centre extended from the left bank of the Nive to the Adour, below Bayonne; and their front was defended by an impassable morass. Such a position being judged impregnable by a direct attack, a movement to the right, by which to threaten the rear of the enemy and his communication with France, was resolved upon. On the 8th December, Generals Hill and Beresford were directed to cross the Nive with two divisions; and, on the morning of the 9th, Sir John Hope, with the 5th division, attacked the outposts at Biaritz and Anglet. The light companies of the different regiments forming the 5th division, to which I was attached, were brigaded together. With the first dawn of morning, we struck off from the main road towards our left, through fields enclosed with trees and hedge-rows. For some time our progress was undisturbed, and we saw no symptoms of an enemy. I was just in the act of crossing over a stile, at the corner of a farmhouse, along with some of the light company of the -- regiment, when all at once we were saluted from the hedges on the opposite side of a field with a roar of musketry. We rushed over the intermediate space upon our unseen enemy, under a perfect storm of shot. This scene, however, was not half so unpleasant as some of those which followed, when we could, every now and then, see the flash of a musket from some hedge-row or farmhouse, and had to advance upon our concealed and deliberate destroyers under a dropping fire - the intervals betwixt each report giving us time to think, and the alternate sounds and silence, together with the occasional fall of men around us, forcing upon the mind a sense of danger, while the consciousness of being the objects of a cool and deliberate aim, seemed to take away even the chance of escape. In this species of warfare, the German troops appeared to me to excel all others - advancing upon the enemy with what seemed to be a kind of dogged and phlegmatic courage, and in the most galling fire, neither quickening nor relaxing their jog-trot pace. One cannot help wondering how such troops should ever have been beaten. It would seem, however, that the courage of British troops, which seems to be a happy combination of the impetuosity of the French, and the stubbornness of the Germans, is of a more effective description.
We continued to advance upon the enemy, who disputed every inch of ground, from house to house, and from field to field, till at last all their outposts were driven in; and we stood upon a height which looked down upon their intrenched camp, and afforded us a delightful view of Bayonne, the river Adour, and the surrounding country.
The work of the day now appeared to be finished; and as I observed some men belonging to a Portuguese regiment, entering a beautiful chateau, I felt a curiosity to see the inside of it, and, upon going in, I found the Portuguese busy in carrying away various articles which could be of no possible use to them, such as mirrors, and in destroying the less portable furniture - of such a ruinous and irrational nature is the habit of pillaging.
While these operations had been performed by Sir John Hope's division, Sir Rowland Hill and Sir Henry Clinton had crossed the Nive at Cambo and Usturitz, and had driven the enemy from the right bank of the river towards Bayonne. As soon as it was dark, fires were kindled along the line of our position, where we expected to pass the night. In this, however, we were disappointed; for, in a short. time, we received orders to march back to our former quarters. Leaving our fires blazing behind, we proceeded along the main road, which, being broken up by the march of troops, artillery, and baggage, together with continued rains, was almost knee-deep. Our march back was most unpleasant. Cavalry, artillery and infantry, were all mingled together, and jostled each other, with curses both loud and deep. When such was the case in one night-march, unmolested by an enemy, what must it be in a long and disastrous retreat like that of Corunna or Burgos?
The night was pretty far advanced when we reached our quarters, where, overcome with fatigue, I retired to rest, and in a few minutes sunk into a profound sleep, from which I was awakened early in the morning by a knocking sound, resembling that produced by a bill-hook in cutting down wood. My servant, however, put an end to this agreeable delusion, by informing me that it proceeded from the fire of the enemy, who were attacking our outposts, and that our troops were all under arms, and ready to march to the front. I hurried on my clothes with all possible speed, and found the regiment ready to march off, and the whole road covered with troops. In our advance, we every now and then met some of the wounded carried to the rear, and covered with blood, while the firing in front continued to increase.
Soult, alarmed at the movements of the British army, which gave them the command of the seacoast, and the road leading from St Jean de Luz, and which threatened to cut off his communication with France, issued from his intrenched camp with all his force, and made a most furious attack upon Sir John Hope's and General Alton's divisions, at Biaritz and Arcunques, hoping to drive back the left of the British, and to induce a consequent retreat of the right from the banks of the Nive. In a short time, we arrived at a part of the road which was traversed by a small battery, on which the French guns had opened a heavy fire, and immediately behind which, Lord Wellington and his staff were sitting on horseback, in a most perilous situation. At this place, the light company of the regiment to which I was attached, was ordered to strike off into a wood, on the right of the road. Several cannon-shot were fired at us during this movement, some of which tore up the ground about our feet, and covered us all over with earth. We extended ourselves along the wood, where the ground began to slope down into a deep and narrow ravine, so thickly covered with underwood, as to seem almost impassable. Upon the opposite side of the ravine, the enemy were posted in great force, and kept up a dropping and destructive fire upon us without intermission. In this situation we remained for hours, neither advancing nor retreating, and losing men every now and then. Such, however, is the hardening effects of war, and continual exposure to danger, that under a heavy fire from the enemy, and in the very jaws of death, many of the soldiers amused themselves by singing all manner of obscene songs; and when one of them, who was standing close at my right hand, was struck by a ball, and fell dead at my feet, his comrade, who was standing at his other side, looking at me, said, "Never mind, Sir, a miss is as good as a mile."
We had remained in this situation for several hours, when an aid-de-camp came galloping through the wood, and called out to us to retire immediately, otherwise we would be surrounded by the enemy. We lost not a moment in retreating; but had not proceeded far, when we saw a body of French, who had made their way, unobserved, through the underwood, rushing upon us in all directions. They were so close upon us, that we were almost mingled together. A deafening roar of musketry, and a frightful scene of confusion, ensued; but the work of destruction lasted but a short time. A sudden silence succeeded, and upon looking around, I beheld the ground on every side covered with the dying and the dead; but not a living foe was to be seen. The main body of the regiment had also been surrounded by the enemy, but had cut a way through them in the most gallant manner.
The enemy being thus driven back, we were ordered to resume our former position, which we continued to occupy, under a dropping fire, until nightfall, when the Dutch and German regiments of Nassau and Frankfort deserted from the enemy, and marched over to our lines. We then joined the main body of the regiment, which occupied a neighbouring field, where we passed the night around our fires, in discussing the affairs of the past day, and in guessing at those of the morrow, when we expected an attack, as the enemy still occupied their positions in great force.
The next morning dawned slowly and heavily, and showed us the French army still posted in front of our left. They continued to remain quiet until about mid-day, when some skirmishing took place a little way to our right, but which, in a short time, died away. Towards evening, we moved down into a hollow ground, a little in the front, where we expected to remain for the night. The enemy were concealed from our view by a height, a few gun-shots in front, upon which Lord Wellington and staff were seen reconnoitring. An aid-de-camp was suddenly despatched with orders for us to march back to the field which we had just left. We had scarcely arrived there, and formed close-column, when Wellington and his staff wheeled about their horses, and came galloping back at full speed. In a moment afterwards, the height which they had left was covered with French. They immediately opened a heavy fire of shot and shells upon our column, many of which took effect, and under cover of their guns advanced from the height, and made a most furious attack upon our position. They were met, however, at every point by our light troops; who kept up such a heavy and well-directed fire, that, after a desperate struggle, they were driven back to the heights from which they had descended, where they solaced themselves by shouting "Vive l'Empereur"as if they had obtained a great victory. It is said Soult had hoped; by this desperate attack, to drive back our left upon St Jean de Luz, or even upon the Bidassoa; and a report circulated among our men that a large allowance of brandy had been given to his troops upon the occasion. They certainly came on like men under the influence of some strong excitement.
We had now had three days hard fighting without intermission, and were quite exhausted with fatigue and want of sleep, when darkness once more brought a temporary respite to the work of death, and we were marched off to the rear to occupy some empty houses for the night. We lay down in our clothes along the floors, and, cold and wet as we were, soon fell fast asleep. Morning came like an unwelcome intruder, and with the first gray of dawn we again marched to the front, and were drawn up in a large redoubt erected across the great road to Bayonne. During the whole of this day (the 12th) we remained in the redoubt, expecting to be attacked by the enemy, who appeared in great force on a position immediately opposite. We were allowed to remain quiet, however, during the whole day, but there was a good deal of fighting a little to our right the brunt of which fell principally upon some regiments of the Guards, which suffered severely. A little before nightfall we observed a considerable commotion among the enemy; they seemed to be reinforcing the right of their army immediately opposite to us, and making preparations to attack us on the following morning. We were not a little surprised, therefore, when upon the night a large body of troops was withdrawn from our position, and marched off to reinforce Sir Rowland Hill upon the right. But Wellington had guessed rightly; for, no sooner had darkness come on, than Soult withdrew his troops from our left, and passed a large force through Bayonne during the night, with which he made a furious attack upon Sir Rowland Hill, on the morning of the 13th. He was completely defeated, however, and driven back, even without the aid of the reinforcements sent to our right. Being thus beaten at all points, and having suffered much loss, he again retired with his army into the intrenched camp before Bayonne, where he remained without making any farther attempt upon our positions.
During the days we remained in camp after these operations, I made some excursions over the scenes of the late engagements, which every where bore the traces of destruction. The earth, in many places, was torn up, and the trees were shattered with cannon-shot, and the ground was thickly strewed over with dead bodies, which some ruthless hands had stript of their garments, and left even without a shred to cover the remains of poor humanity. There were heads lying at a distance from their bodies, and the. faces of the dead were frightfully mangled, and half-devoured by birds of prey. And here and there might be seen a new-made grave, with a musket-barrel or a laurel-bough planted at its head; a sure sign that its inmate had been a favourite with his comrades, and that the soft and sacred feelings of the heart had still survived the deadening and demoralizing effects of war. There was something doubly touching in these simple tributes of affection, arising as they did amidst such a scene of horror, surrounded by the unhonoured and unburied dead.
After remaining some days in camp, and having strengthened our line of positions by batteries and redoubts, with here and there a fortified church and chateau, we retired into winter-quarters. A farmhouse, whose inhabitants consisted of an old man, his wife and two daughters, afforded accommodation for myself and another officer. Our forenoons were spent in excursions to the rear and to the front, where it was a common custom for French and English officers to meet midway, betwixt their respective sentries, there to discuss the news of the day, the affairs of Europe, and a glass or two of the best brandy. We derived a good deal of amusement also, in visiting certain deserted houses in the neighbourhood, which were occupied day and night alternately by the French and English picquets, who had drawn caricatures of each other upon the walls, which were also covered over with sarcastic remarks and retorts courteous - thus forming the medium of a correspondence half-angry, half-humorous.
Upon arriving at our quarters in the evening, we generally found our landlord, his wife and daughters, and a prety [sic] numerous assemblage of young French girls, waiting for us to join them in the dance. There, by the light of a wood fire, and to the music of their voices, we went through its various evolutions; - in some of which the rule of the dance required us to perform the pleasing ceremony of saluting our fair partners; and, however stupid and forgetful we might be in the other parts of the performance, they remarked that, in this one, we were very apt scholars. On such occasions, we were often startled in the very midst of our mirth, with the deep and heavy roar of artillery towards the front, where our batteries almost nightly cannonaded the French boats passing down the Adour with provisions to Bayonne. It had a strange and wild effect on such occasions - that sound of war denoting "wo and death," mingling with the revel and the song.
Our landlord's youngest daughter was a tall interesting girl; and even the lowest orders of the French seem to inherit, from nature, that ease and grace of manner which, in other countries, is the effect of education, and chiefly to be found among the higher classes. Such being the case, it will not seem very surprising that the fair Madeline, though a peasant girl, should have inspired me with something of the tender passion. But, alas! no time was that for -
"Youth and maiden in an evening walk."
The return of spring put an end to the repose of war, and the regiment to which I belonged was moved from its cantonements towards the front. I parted from my Chere Ami with considerable regret - and, amidst all the vicissitudes of long years, I often think, with mingled feelings of pleasure and pain, upon my winter-quarters in the south of France - and cannot help smiling at the vanity of human life, and all its dreams of ambition, when I reflect that, among the happiest days of my existence, were those which I spent in a peasant's hut, with a peasant girl.
I have often felt a wish to revisit that scene again, and to behold my fair friend once more. But, I believe it is better not: the sight of her now (if, indeed, she be still alive) would only awaken unpleasant feelings and vain regrets. I should see, with a sigh, that time and care had wrought a dreary change upon her as well as upon me, and that her days, like mine, had fallen into the "sere, the yellow leaf."
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