Such, with little variety, was the history of each day and night of
our march--the days usually passed in some place of security and
concealment, while a reconnaissance would be made by some three or four
of the party; and, as night fell, the route was continued.
One incident alone broke the monotony of the journey. On the fourth
night we left the mountain and descended into a large open plain,
taking for our guide the course of a river which seemed familiar to
my companions. The night was dark; heavy masses of cloud concealed
the moon, and not a star was visible; the atmosphere was close and
oppressive, and there reigned around a kind of unnatural stillness,
unbroken by the flow of the sluggish river which moved on beside us. Our
pace had been a rapid one for some time; and contrary to their wont the
dragoons neither indulged in their gay songs nor merry stories, but kept
together with more of military precision than they had hitherto assumed.
I conjectured from this that we were probably approaching the French
lines; and on questioning the corporal, was told that such was the case.
A little after midnight we halted for a few moments to refresh the
horses. Each man dismounted, and stood with his hand upon the bridle;
and I could not but mark how the awful silence of the hour seemed
to prey upon their spirits as they spoke together in low and broken
whispers, as if fearful to interrupt the deep sleep of Nature. It was
just then that every eye was directed to a bright star that burst out
above the horizon, and seemed to expand gradually into a large mass
of great brilliancy, and again to diminish to a mere speck--which it
remained for some time, and then disappeared entirely. We continued
gazing on the dark spot where this phenomenon had appeared, endeavouring
by a hundred conjectures to explain it. Wearied at length with watching,
we were about to continue our journey, when suddenly from the quarter
from where the star had shone a rocket shot up into the dark sky and
broke into ten thousand brilliant fragments, which seemed to hang
suspended on high in the weight of the dense atmosphere. Another
followed, and another; then, after a pause of some minutes, a blue
rocket was seen to mount into the air, and explode with a report
which even at the distance we stood was audible. Scarcely had its last
fragments disappeared in the darkness when a low rumbling noise, like
the booming of distant thunder, seemed to creep along the ground. Then
came a rattling volley, as if of small-arms; and at last the whole
horizon burst into a red glare, which forked up from earth to sky with
a crash that seemed to shake the very ground beneath us. Masses of dark,
misshapen rock sprang into the blazing sky; millions upon millions of
sparks glittered through the air; and a cry, like the last expiring wail
of a drowning crew, rose above all other sounds--and all was still. The
flame was gone; the gloomy darkness had returned; not a sound was heard;
but in that brief moment four hundred of the French army met their
graves beneath the castle of Burgos, which in their hurried retreat they
had blown up, without apprising the troops who were actually marching
beneath its very walls.
Our route was now resumed in silence; even the levity of the French
soldiers had received a check; and scarcely a word passed as we rode on
through the gloomy darkness, anxiously looking for daybreak, to learn
something of the country about us.
Towards sunrise we found ourselves at the entrance of a mountain pass
traversed by the Ebro, which in some places almost filled the valley,
and left merely a narrow path between its waters and the dark cliffs
that frowned above. Here we proceeded--sometimes in single file; now
tracing the signs of the retreating force which had just preceded us,
now lost in astonishment at the prodigious strength of the position thus
abandoned. But even these feelings gave way before a stronger one--our
admiration of the exquisite beauty of the scenery. Glen after glen was
seen opening as we advanced into this wide valley, each bearing its
tributary stream to the mighty Ebro--the clear waters reflecting the
broken crags, the waving foliage, and the bright verdure that beamed
around, as orange-trees, laurels, and olives bent over the current, or
shot up in taper spires towards the clear blue sky. How many a sheltered
nook we passed, with an involuntary longing to rest and linger among
scenes so full of romantic beauty! But already the din of the retreating
column was borne towards us on the breeze, the heavy, monotonous roll
of large guns and caissons; while now and then we thought we could catch
the swell of martial music blending through the other sounds. But soon
we came up with waggons carrying the wounded and sick, who, having
joined by another road, had fallen to the rear of the march. From them
we learned that the King of Spain, Joseph himself, was with the advanced
guard, and that the destination of the forces was Vittoria, where a
junction with the _corps darmée_ of the other generals being effected,
it was decided on giving battle to the Anglo-Spanish army.
As we advanced, our progress became slower and more difficult; close
columns of infantry blocked up the road, or dense masses of cavalry,
with several hundred led horses and baggage mules, prevented all chance
of getting forward. Gradually, however, the valley widened, the mountain
became less steep; and by evening we reached a large plain, closed
towards the north-east by lofty mountains, which I learned were the
Pyrenees, and beheld in the far distance the tall spires of the city of
Vittoria. Several roads crossed the plain towards the city, all of which
were now crowded with troops--some pressing on in the direction of the
town, others taking up their position and throwing up hasty embankments
and stockades. Meanwhile the loaded waggons, with the spoil of the
rich convents and the royal treasure, were seen wending their slow way
beneath the walls of Vittoria on the road to Bayonne, escorted by a
strong cavalry force, whose bright helmets and breastplates pronounced
them Cuirassiers de la Garde. The animation and excitement of the whole
scene was truly intense, and as I rode along beside the corporal, I
listened with eagerness to his account of the various regiments as they
passed hither and thither and took up their positions on the wide plain.
'There, look yonder,' said he, 'where that dark mass is defiling beside
the pine wood! See how they break into parties; watch them, how they
scatter along the low bank beside the stream under shelter of the
brushwood. There were eight hundred men in that battalion: where are
they now? All concealed--they are the tirailleurs of the army; and see
on that low mound above them where the flag is flying--the guns are
about to occupy that height. I was right, you see; there they come, six,
seven, eight pieces of heavy metal. _Sacrebleu!_ that must be a place of
some consequence.'
'What are the troops yonder with the red tufts in their caps, and
scarlet trousers?'
'_Ah, parbleu!_ your countrymen will soon know to their cost: they are
the Infanterie de la Garde. There's not a man in the column you are
looking at who is not _decoré_.'
'Look at this side, monsieur! See the Chasseurs à Cheval,' said Annette,
putting her hand on my arm, while her bright eyes glanced proudly at the
glittering column which advanced by a road near us--coming along at a
sharp trot, their equipment clattering, their horses highly conditioned,
and the splendid uniform of light blue and silver giving them a most
martial air.
'Bah!' said the corporal contemptuously, 'these are the dragoons to my
taste.' So saying, he pointed to a dark column of heavy cavalry, who
led their horses slowly along by a narrow causeway; the long black
horse-hair trailed from their dark helmets with something of a gloomy
aspect, to which their flowing cloaks of deep blue added.
'The Cuirassiers de Milhauds. But look--look yonder! _Tonnerre de ciel!_
see that!'
The object to which my attention was now directed was a park of
artillery that covered the whole line of road from the Miranda pass to
the very walls of Vittoria.
'Two hundred, at least,' exclaimed he, after counting some twenty or
thirty of the foremost. '_Ventre bleu!_ what chance have you before the
batteries of the Guard?'
As he spoke, the drums beat across the wide plain; a continuous dull
roll murmured along the ground. It ceased; the trumpets brayed forth a
call; a clanging crash followed, and I saw that the muskets were brought
to the shoulder, as the bayonets glanced in the sun and the sharp sabres
glittered along the squadrons. For a second or two all was still, and
then the whole air was rent with a loud cry of '_Vive le Roi!_' while a
mounted party rode slowly from the left, and entering one of the gates
of the city disappeared from our sight. Night was now beginning to fail,
as we wended our way slowly along towards the walls of Vittoria--it
being the corporal's intention to deliver his prisoner into the hands of
the _état major_ of Marshal Jourdan.