We had slept about four or five hours, and the short hours of the
morning were beginning to be lengthened, when our slumbers were
disturbed by the arrival of a messenger from the advanced pickets,
who came to inform us that the enemy were moving. As we had lain down
in our clothes, with all our accoutrements on, we were under arms and
in column in five seconds. It was not, however, deemed necessary that
any immediate advance on our part should be attempted. We remained, on
the contrary, quiet in the church; but, standing in our ranks, we were
perfectly ready to march to any quarter where the sound of firing might
bespeak our presence necessary.
We had stood thus about half an hour, when a second messenger from
the outposts came in, from whom we learned that a blue-light had been
thrown up within the enemy's lines, and that their fires were all
freshly trimmed. "Is it so?" said some of our oldest veterans; "then
there will be no work for us to-day--they are retreating:" and so,
sure enough, it proved. As soon as dawn began to appear, a patrol was
sent forward, which returned immediately to state that not a vestige
of the French army was to be found. Their outposts and sentries were
withdrawn, their baggage was all gone, and the whole of the right
wing had disappeared. The truth was, as soon became apparent, that
Lord Wellington's plan of attack had succeeded at every point. The
enemy's left was turned. His redoubts, after some hard fighting, were
taken; and our people getting into his rear, left to Marshal Soult no
alternative except retreat. On his right, as I have already explained,
no serious impression could be made. There his position defied us. But
our feint deceived him into the hope that we might knock our heads
against a wall; and he delayed too long sending to the quarter where
real danger threatened the reinforcements that were needed. They
arrived in time to see that their vantage-ground was lost; and both
right and left withdrew, quietly and in good order, as soon as darkness
set in.
The intelligence of the enemy's retreat was received with infinite
satisfaction. Not that there was the smallest disinclination on our
part to renew the battle; but the battle being won, there remained
for us the rapture of the chase, than which, in the operations of
war, there is nothing more exciting. Very properly, however, the men
received orders to strengthen themselves against contingencies by
eating, before they began their march. This they did in the little
square or place whither the battalion was moved out of the church,
and round their piled arms--their breakfast, like our own, consisting
of such scraps of bread and meat as remained from the supper of the
previous evening.
While others were thus employed, I went, with two or three officers,
to visit the spot where we had deposited such of our messmates as
fell in the battle of yesterday. It is not often that a soldier is so
fortunate--if indeed the circumstance be worth a wise man's regard--as
to be laid to his rest in consecrated ground. Our gallant comrades
enjoyed that privilege on the present occasion. The soldiers had
collected them from the various spots where they lay, and brought them
in, with a sort of pious respect, to the churchyard. Here they dug a
grave--one grave, it is true, for more than one body; but what boots
it?--and here they entombed them, carefully tearing up the green sod,
and carefully replacing it upon the hillock. For my own part, I had
little time to do more than wish rest to their souls; for the corps was
already in motion, and in five minutes we were in the line of march.
It was dark when the movement began, consequently objects could not
be distinguished at any considerable distance; but the farther we
proceeded, the more strongly the day dawned upon us. Having cleared
the village, we came to a bridge thrown across a little brook, for the
possession of which a good deal of fighting had taken place towards
evening on the previous day. Here we found several French soldiers
lying dead, as well as one of our own men, who had ventured too far in
pursuit. A little way beyond the bridge, and to the left of the road,
stood a neat chateau of some size. This our advanced party was ordered
to search; and as I chanced to be in command of the detachment, the
office of conducting the search devolved upon me.
I found the house furnished after the French fashion, and the furniture
in a state of perfect preservation; nor did I permit the slightest
injury to be done to it by my men. The only article, indeed, which I
was guilty of plundering, was a grammar of the Spanish language, thus
entitled--"Grammaire et Dictionnaire François et Espagnol--Nouvellement
Revû, Corrigé et Augmenté par Monsieur de Maunory: Suivant l'Usage de
la Cour d'Espagne." Upon one of the boards is written--_Appartient a
Lassalle Briguette, Lassallee_. The book is still in my possession;
and as our countries are now at peace, I take this opportunity of
informing Mr Briguette that I am quite ready to restore to him his
property, provided he will favour me with his address.
The room from which I took the volume just alluded to was the library,
and by no means badly stored with books. There was not, however, much
time to decipher the title-pages; for, independently of the necessity
under which we lay of pushing forward as soon as we had ascertained
that none of the enemy were secreted here, my attention was attracted
by a mass of letters scattered over the floor. The reader may judge of
my surprise, when, on lifting one to examine its contents, I found it
to be in the handwriting of my own father, and addressed to myself. It
was of a later date, too, than any communication which I had received
from home; and beside it were lying about twenty others, directed
to different officers in the same division with myself. This let me
into a secret. The house in which I now stood had been the official
headquarters of Marshal Soult. A courier, who was bringing letters
from Lord Wellington's headquarters, had been cut off by a patrol of
the enemy's cavalry; and hence all our epistles, including sundry
_billets-doux_ from fair maidens at home, had been subjected to the
scrutiny of the French marshal and his staff.
Leaving other epistles to their fate, I put my own in my pocket, and,
stuffing my volume of plunder into my bosom, pushed on. About a hundred
yards in rear of the chateau we arrived at the first line of works,
consisting of a battery for two guns, with a deep trench in front of
it. It was flanked both on the right and left by farmhouses, with a
good deal of plantation, and a couple of garden walls, and would have
cost our people no inconsiderable loss had we been foolhardy enough
to attack it. It was erected just upon the commencement of the rising
ground. On passing it we found ourselves at the ascent of a bare hill,
about the altitude, perhaps, of Shooter's Hill, and not dissimilar in
general appearance, the summit of which was covered by three redoubts,
connected, the one with the other, by two open batteries. As we gazed
at these, we could not but remark to ourselves how painful must have
been the feelings of the French general when compelled to abandon them;
and we, of course, paid the compliments which were his due to our
own leader, by whose judicious management the labours of months were
rendered profitless to such an adversary.
We had just cleared the intrenchments when a cry arose from the rear,
"Make way for the cavalry!" Our men, accordingly, inclined to the
right of the road, when the 12th and 16th light dragoons rode past at
a quick trot, sending out half a troop before them to feel their way.
The object of this movement, as we afterwards found, was to hinder,
if possible, the destruction of the bridge at St Jean de Luz; but the
attempt succeeded only in part, the enemy having already set fire to
their train.
"Push on, push on," was now the word. We accordingly quickened our
pace, and reached St Jean de Luz about nine o'clock; but we were too
late to secure a passage of the Nivelle, the bridge being already
in ruins. Our cavalry had reached it only in time to see the mine
exploded, which the French troops had dug in its centre arch; and hence
a halt became necessary till the chasm thus created should be filled
up. The effect was remarkably striking; the whole of the first and
fifth divisions, with the King's German legion, several brigades of
Portuguese, and two divisions of Spanish troops, came pouring up, till
the southern suburb of St Jean de Luz was filled with armed men, to the
number of perhaps twenty or thirty thousand.
It is probably needless for me to say that we found St Jean de Luz for
the most part abandoned by its inhabitants. Here and there, indeed,
a few faces were protruded from windows and balconies, and feeble
cries of _Vivent les Anglois!_ and the waving of threescore or so of
handkerchiefs, greeted our progress. But the persons so conducting
themselves belonged exclusively to the lower orders, for the gentry and
municipality were gone. It is just to add, however, that in the course
of a very few days both the gentry and municipal authorities returned,
and that they, and indeed all the inhabitants of the place, were not
only protected from insult and wrong, but encouraged to resume, as they
did, their usual occupations.
While the column halted till the bridge should be so far repaired as
to permit the infantry to cross, I happened to stray a little from the
main street, and beheld, in a lane which ran parallel with the river,
a spectacle exceedingly shocking. I saw no fewer than fifty-three
donkeys standing with the sinews of the hinder legs cut through. On
inquiring from an inhabitant the cause of this, he told me that these
poor brutes, being overloaded with the baggage of the French army, had
knocked up; when the soldiers, rather than suffer them to fall into our
hands in a serviceable condition, hamstrung them all. Why they were not
merciful enough to shoot them, I know not; unless, indeed, they were
apprehensive of causing an alarm among us by the report. But what their
caution hindered we performed: the poor creatures were all shot dead
ere we advanced.
The town of St Jean de Luz covers about as much ground, and, I should
imagine, contains about as many inhabitants, as Carlisle or Canterbury.
It is divided into two parts by the river Nivelle, which falls into
the sea about a couple or three miles below, at a village, or rather
port, called Secoa. Like other French towns of its size, St Jean de Luz
is not remarkable for its air of neatness; but there are in it a good
market-place, two or three churches, and a theatre. The Nivelle, where
it flows through the city, may be about the width of the Eden or the
Isis. It is rendered passable, and the two quarters of the city are
connected, by a stone bridge of three arches--beside which, the stream
itself is fordable, both for cavalry and infantry, at low water. When
we came in this morning the tide was up, but it had been for some time
on the turn; and hence, in about a couple of hours, we were perfectly
independent of the repairs. By this time, however, the broken arch had
been united by means of planks and beams of wood; but as the junction
was none of the most firm, it was deemed prudent to send the troopers
through the water, the infantry only crossing by the bridge. Along with
the cavalry was sent the artillery also; and thus, by noon on the 11th
of November, the whole of the left column had passed the Nivelle.
We had hardly quitted St Jean de Luz when the weather, which during
the entire morning had looked suspicious, broke, and a cold heavy rain
began to fall. This lasted without any intermission till dark, by which
means our march became the reverse of agreeable; and we felt as if we
would have given the enemy a safe-conduct as far as Bayonne, in return
for permission to halt and dry ourselves before a fire. But of halting
no hint was dropped; nor was it till our advanced-guard came up with
the rear of the French army, posted in the village of Bidart, and along
the heights adjoining, that any check was given to our progress. As it
was now late, the sun having set and twilight coming on, it was not
judged expedient to dislodge the enemy till morning; in consequence of
which our troops were commanded to halt. But there was no cover for
them. Only a few cottages stood near the road, and the tents were at
least fourteen miles in the rear; the night was accordingly spent by
most of us on the wet ground.
From the moment that the rain began to fall we remarked that the
Spanish, and in some instances the Portuguese troops, setting the
commands of their officers at defiance, left their ranks, and
scattered themselves over the face of the country. While this was
going on, I have good reason to believe that several horrible crimes
were perpetrated. Of the French peasants, many, trusting to our
proclamations, remained quietly in their houses; these were, in too
many instances, plundered and cruelly treated by the marauders, who
were, I suspect, urged on to the commission of numerous atrocities by
a feeling far more powerful than the desire of plunder. A strong and
overwhelming thirst of vengeance drew, I am convinced, many to the
perpetration of terrible deeds; indeed, one case of the kind came under
my own immediate notice, which I shall here relate.
About three o'clock in the afternoon, a temporary check took place in
the line of march, when the corps to which I belonged was about two
miles distant from Bidart. A brigade of cavalry alone was in front of
us. A Portuguese brigade, including one regiment of caçadores, was in
our rear. We stood still in our places; but the caçadore regiment,
breaking its ranks, rushed in a tumultuous manner towards two or
three cottages on the left of the road. The officers, with the utmost
difficulty, recalled them; but a few individuals, as the event proved,
succeeded in their effort of insubordination. These, however, were not
noticed at the time, and it was thought that all were where they ought
to be.
A little way, perhaps a couple of hundred yards, in front, stood
another French cottage, surrounded by a garden, and detached from all
others. In about five minutes after order had been restored, we heard
a female shriek come from that cottage. It was followed by the report
of a musket; and ere we had time to reach the spot, another shot was
fired. We ran up and found a poor old French peasant lying dead at
the bottom of the garden. A bullet had passed through his head, and
his thin grey hairs were dyed with his own blood. We hastened towards
the house; and just as we neared the door, a caçadore rushed out, and
attempted to elude us. But he was hotly pursued and taken. When he was
brought back, we entered the cottage, and, to our horror, we saw an old
woman, in all probability the wife of the aged peasant, lying dead in
the kitchen.
The desperate Portuguese did not deny having perpetrated these murders.
He seemed, on the contrary, wound up to a pitch of frenzy. "They
murdered my father, they cut my mother's throat, and they ravished my
sister," said he; "and I vowed at the time that I would put to death
the first French family that fell into my hands. You may hang me, if
you will, but I have kept my oath, and I don't care for dying." It is
unnecessary to add that the man was hanged; indeed, not fewer than
eighteen Spanish and Portuguese soldiers were tucked up, in the course
of this and the following days, to the branches of trees. But I could
not at the time avoid thinking that if any shadow of excuse for murder
can be framed, the unfortunate Portuguese who butchered this French
family deserves the benefit of it.
I have said that the greater part of the left column spent this night
in no very comfortable plight, upon the wet ground. For ourselves, we
were moved into what had once been a grass field, just at the base of
the hill of Bidart, but which, with the tread of men's feet and horses'
hoofs, was now battered into mud. Here, with the utmost difficulty, we
succeeded in lighting fires, round which we crowded as we best might.
But the rain still came down in torrents; and though our lad arrived
shortly after with the cloaks, and rations of beef and biscuit and rum
were served out to us, I cannot enumerate this among the nights of pure
enjoyment which my life as a soldier has frequently brought in my way.