The night of the 23d passed by in quiet; and long before dawn on the
24th we stood as usual in our ranks, and under arms. So passed about
half an hour, when orders were given to form into marching order, and
to file towards the left, in the direction of the Adour. We were glad
to be put in motion, and, after a journey of about a league, halted
upon a sandy plain, at the distance of perhaps a couple of miles from
the walls of Bayonne, and half that distance, or something less, from
the outworks. Though thus placed within easy range of the enemy's
advanced batteries, we were nevertheless well protected from their
fire; for a little sand-hill stood in our immediate front, of height
sufficient to shut out not only the soldiers, but the tops of the
tents, from the gaze of the besieged.
Though we reached our ground at an early hour in the morning, a
considerable space of time elapsed ere the baggage and provisions came
up. The reader will therefore imagine that the setting forth of a
substantial breakfast, which immediately ensued, proved a source of
no trifling gratification to men who had fasted for upwards of forty
hours, and whose appetite, though stifled by sleep, had revived of
late in a very troublesome degree. It consisted, I well recollect, of
slices of beef hastily and imperfectly broiled, with mouldy biscuit and
indifferent tea; but the coarsest viands are sweet to the hungry, and
we were in no humour that day to find fault with the quality of ours.
We were yet busy with our meal, and the baggage and tents, though
removed from the backs of the animals, lay packed and ready for
another move, when the intelligence, not at that moment unacceptable,
reached us, that for the present we were to remain stationary, that
our position in the line was taken up. Immediately the camp was marked
out in due form; sundry ruinous dwellings in its vicinity were taken
possession of, chiefly as stables for the horses; guns, fishing-rods,
and greyhounds were desired to be put in serviceable order; and every
disposition was made to secure comfort. The sole subject of complaint,
indeed, was found to be in the unfavourable state of the weather, which
had become since yesterday boisterous, with heavy showers of rain and
hail. But this very circumstance, at which we were disposed to murmur,
chanced to be, of all others, the most favourable to the operations of
the army. By the help of these squalls, the boats and _chasse-marées_,
which had hovered about the mouth of the Adour for several days, were
enabled to pass the bar, and the groundwork of the floating bridge (if
such an Iricism be admissible) was laid.
As the passage of the bar was an operation of considerable difficulty,
and as I was fortunate enough to be an eyewitness of the daring
intrepidity and nautical skill of those who effected it, I shall take
the liberty of describing the occurrence more at length.
My friend and myself having seen a little to the comforts of our men,
and added in an important degree to our own by a change of habiliments,
walked forth with no other view than that of whiling away certain
hours, which might have otherwise hung heavy on our hands. We took the
direction of the river's mouth, because there a dark pine-wood promised
to shelter us from the blast, and because we were anxious to see how
far the engineers had proceeded in the construction of the bridge. At
this time we were quite in the dark as to the sort of bridge which was
about to be formed. We knew not so much as that it was to consist of
sailing vessels at all, but concluded that pontoons would be anchored,
as had been the case at the Bidassoa. Our astonishment may therefore
be conceived when, on mounting an eminence, we beheld a squadron of
some thirty craft bearing down, with all sail set, towards the bar,
over which the waves were dashing in white foam, being driven inwards
by a strong gale from the north-east. But we were not the only anxious
spectators of this animating show. The bank of the river, and all the
heights near, were crowded with general and staff officers, conspicuous
among whom were Sir John Hope, and, if my memory fail me not, Lord
Wellington himself. The groups were, one and all of them, speechless.
The squadron and its manœuvres involving, as they did, the lives of the
gallant men who executed them, seemed to engross the attention of the
lookers-on, who all faced in the same direction, and stood silent and
motionless as statues.
Down came the boats before the breeze with amazing velocity. The surf,
however, ran so high, and there seemed to be so little water upon the
sands, that I for one felt as if a weight had been removed from my
heart, when I beheld them suddenly put up their helms and tack about
again. The prospect from the sea must have been appalling; and even
British sailors hesitated, for once in their lives, whether they could
face the danger. But the hesitation was not of long continuance. A
row-boat, Spanish built, but manned by Lieutenant Cheyne and five
seamen from the Woodlark, threw herself with great judgment upon
a wave. The swell bore her clear across the shoal; and loud and
reiterated were the shouts with which she was greeted as she rushed
proudly through the deep water. The next which came was a prize--a
large French fishing-lugger--manned by seamen from a transport, closely
followed by a gunboat, under the command of Lieutenant Cheshire. They,
too, were borne across; but the fourth was less fortunate. It was a
schooner-rigged craft, full of people, and guided by Captain Elliot. I
know not how it came about, whether a sudden change of wind occurred,
or a rope unfortunately escaped from its fastening, but at the instant
when the schooner took the foam, the mainsail of her hinder mast
flapped round. In one second her broadside was to the surf, in another
she was upset, and her gallant captain, with several of his crew,
perished among the breakers. The rest were dashed by an eddy towards
the bank and happily saved.
Our horror at contemplating this event, though extreme, was necessarily
brief, because our attention was immediately attracted to other vessels
which, one after another, drew near. Of these, all except one, a
_chasse-marée_, succeeded in making good the passage. It shared the
fate of the schooner: it was upset upon the curl of a wave, and went
down with the whole crew. This last was even a more awful spectacle
than the former. The little vessel, after being tossed round, rocked
for a moment, as it were, upon the surf, just long enough for us to see
the despairing gestures of the sailors, and to hear their shriek of
consternation; and then a huge wave striking her, she fell, not upon
her broadside, but with bottom upwards. Not a man escaped of all who
had conducted her, and several fine promising midshipmen were among
them.
Five-and-twenty vessels having now entered the Adour, besides four or
five gunboats destined to protect them, no time was lost in running
the whole up to their proper stations, and in bringing them securely
to anchor at equal distances from one another. They were then strongly
bound together by cables, the ends of which were made fast to winches
prepared for the purpose on each bank, and which, running both by the
bows and sterns, kept the craft tolerably steady, notwithstanding the
violence of the current. I need not add that no economy was exercised
in the matter of anchors, of which two were dropped from each bow, and
a like number from each stern.
The boats being thus rendered sufficiently secure, half-a-dozen strong
ropes were extended along their centres, at equidistances of about
two feet from one another. These were so disposed as not to bear
any continuous weight upon the smaller vessels. They were steadied,
indeed, as they passed over each, by being fastened to capstans, and
so kept from swinging too widely; but it was upon four or five of the
largest class only that they were made to lean, the intervals between
being in reality so many hanging bridges. Across these ropes were
laid down planks, made fast by ties only; and the whole was so nicely
balanced that though the tread of a single passenger caused it to swing
backwards and forwards, an entire army might pass with perfect safety.
Such was the famous bridge of boats across the Adour, which connected
the two banks of the river, where it measures eight hundred yards
in width, and which, in itself, including groundwork on both sides,
covered a space little short of nine hundred yards.
Ahead of the bridge, with their broadsides towards the town, were
moored five gunboats, each armed with six long twenty-four pounders.
These, in their turn, were in part defended by a slight boom; whilst
a boom infinitely stronger, capable of repelling any substance which
might be floated down by the tide, hung between them and the bridge.
A boom somewhat similar, but more in the shape of a breakwater, was
placed behind the bridge, to shelter it from any sudden swell of the
sea, such as might be apprehended during spring-tides; and each boat
being manned by a party of seamen well skilled in the management of
such craft, the fabric was justly regarded as abundantly secure. To
complete its construction, however, gave employment to the artificers
of the army during two whole days, though they contrived to render it
passable for infantry in less than half that space of time.
Meanwhile, neither the right nor the centre of the Allied army was
inactive. The operations of the 23d--of which I have already said
as much, and perhaps more than one who professes not to speak from
personal observation is entitled to say--having been concluded, Soult,
alarmed at the determined advance of his enemies, and confounded by
the celerity of their movements, retired, in the night of 24th, from
Sauveterre across the Gave du Pau, and, destroying all the bridges in
his flight, assembled the strength of his army, on the morning of the
25th, near the village of Orthes. Thither Lord Wellington immediately
followed. Pushing forward a numerous body of Spaniards, so as to cut
off all communication between the French Marshal and Bayonne, he
manœuvred with the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh British
divisions during that and the succeeding days; and finally, on the
27th, fought the glorious battle of Orthes, of which, as I had no share
in it, I shall attempt no description. The result of it, as everybody
knows, was the hasty and disastrous retreat of Marshal Soult upon
Toulouse, the capture of Bourdeaux, and the first public declaration
which had yet been made, by any part of the French nation, of the
renewal of their allegiance to the house of Bourbon.
Whilst these great events were in progress elsewhere, a corps,
consisting of the first and fifth British divisions, of two or three
brigades of Portuguese, and a crowd of Spaniards, proceeded, under the
command of Sir John Hope, to invest the town and citadel of Bayonne.
As the rest of my journal will consist entirely of such occurrences
as befell during the progress of the siege, it may not be amiss if I
endeavour to convey to the mind of my reader something like a correct
idea of the important city against which our efforts were turned, and
of the general face of the country immediately around it.
The city of Bayonne stands upon a sandy plain--the citadel upon a rock
or hill which closely overhangs it. Between them runs the river Adour
with a sluggish current, resembling, in the darkness of its water and
the sliminess of its banks, the Thames near Gravesend or Blackwall,
but considerably narrower and more shallow. Both town and fortress are
regularly and strongly fortified; and on the present occasion a vast
number of field-works, of open batteries, fleches, and redoubts, were
added to the more permanent masonry which formed the ramparts. Nor was
the erection of these the only method adopted by the enemy to give
unusual strength to this most important place. Various sluices were
cut from the river, by means of which, especially in our immediate
front, the whole face of the country could be inundated at pleasure to
the extent of several miles; whilst ditches, deep and wide, were here
and there dug, with the view of retarding the advance of troops, and
keeping them exposed to a heavy fire from the walls, as often as the
occurrence of each might cause a temporary check. The outer defences
began in all directions, at the distance of a full mile from the
glacis. The roads were everywhere broken up and covered with abattis
and other encumbrances. Nothing, in short, was neglected which promised
in any degree to contribute to the strength of a place which is justly
regarded as the key of the southern frontier of France.
Such was the condition of the works about Bayonne. With respect to
the country commanded by them, it varied considerably, both in its
nature and general appearance, the soil being in some directions
tolerably fruitful, in others little better than sand. It was, however,
universally flat, and very slightly wooded or broken to the distance of
three or four miles in every direction from the ditch. A few hamlets
were, indeed, scattered here and there (and wherever there is a French
hamlet a certain quantity of foliage will be found), the largest of
which was Anglete, where we had spent the night of the 23d, and through
which runs the great road to Bourdeaux and Paris; but in general the
desolate aspect of things seemed to indicate that the labours of the
builder and planter were prohibited, lest a village or a grove might
shelter an enemy, or furnish a point for the establishment of a hostile
post within cannon-shot of the walls. In the direction of the sea, and
parallel with the left bank of the river, deep sands prevailed. These
were, for large patches, totally bare of verdure; but thick woods
of dark short pine more frequently overspread them, which, rising
and falling, as the sands had broken up into little eminences and
valleys, gave a very striking and romantic appearance to that side of
the panorama. As I afterwards learned, the Landes--those vast forests
which stretch all the way to Bourdeaux, and which, according to the
tradition of the natives, were originally planted to render firm what
had previously been a huge moving quicksand--begin here.
My description of Bayonne, and the scenery near it, applies thus far
only to the city, and to the tract of country situated on the southern
or Spanish side of the Adour. The citadel, being built upon a hill, or
rather upon the crest of a range of heights which rise gradually from
the sea, and extend upwards in a sort of inclined plane for about eight
miles, differs entirely from the preceding sketch, both in its style
of fortification and in the nature of the view which it presents to the
gaze of a traveller. Like all hill-forts, its works are constructed
rather as the natural inequalities of the ground permit than after
any scientific plan or model. One of its fronts--that which faces the
village of St Esprit and the mouth of the river--presents, indeed,
the regular octangular appearance; but in other directions the abrupt
and uneven course of the rock has compelled the engineer to draw his
wall around without any respect to form or figure. Yet it is a place
of prodigious strength--the more assailable of its faces being that on
which the shape of the ground has permitted the engineer to bestow the
largest share of his attention.
The view from the ramparts of the citadel is extremely pleasing. Vast
woods of pine are seen in the distance; whilst nearer, the face of the
country is beautifully diversified by the intermingling of corn-fields,
meadows, groves of magnificent cork-trees, vineyards, cottages, and
several chateaux. Close beneath the walls, moreover, lies the romantic
village of St Esprit, with its neat church and churchyard, sloping
along the side of a ravine, and having all its cottages surrounded by
pretty gardens, well stocked with fruit-trees and shrubs. This village
was commanded, not only by the guns from the citadel, but by a redoubt
which General Thouvenot, the French governor, had caused to be erected
on a sort of table-land near it, and which, though no addition to the
beauty of the landscape, added greatly to the general strength of the
castle by occupying the only level spot across which the besiegers
might hope to push a sap with any success or facility.
Though Bayonne was already, to all intents and purposes, invested--that
is to say, though the garrison and inhabitants were fairly cut off from
holding open intercourse with other parts of the country--nothing of
the restraint of a siege, in the proper acceptation of the term, had
as yet been imposed on either class. The besiegers had, indeed, drawn
an extended line around the works; but the French pickets were still
posted at the distance of three, four, and some of them five miles
from the glacis; whilst their patrols continually broke the chain of
connection, and made excursions as far as the camp of Marshal Soult
at Orthes. This was the case at least up to the evening of the 24th.
There being no direct or safe communication between the two banks of
the Adour below the town, Sir John Hope could not venture to tighten
the cord, or to convert the investment into a strict blockade. For as
yet all reinforcements to the little corps which, under the command of
General Stopford, had passed on the 23d, were floated across by means
of rafts--the men sitting with their guns upon the beams of wood, and
leading the horses, which swam after them. Yet, even in this rude way,
so large a force contrived to establish itself among the sand-hills by
the evening of the 24th, that all apprehension of a renewed attack from
the enemy was laid aside. Nevertheless the artificers were anxiously
pressed to render the bridge trustworthy with as little delay as
possible; and they strenuously exerted themselves to meet the wishes of
the general.
Meanwhile, about fourteen or twenty thousand men of the Spanish army
took post along those faces of the town and citadel which looked
towards Helletre and the Joyeuse. The left of this semicircular line,
resting upon the heights where, during the late affair, I stood in
safety to watch the progress of the skirmishers on both sides of me,
swept round, through the abandoned intrenchments, to the brink of the
river. Here, the stream being narrow, a pontoon-bridge was formed, and
the line recommencing on the opposite bank, wound on till it touched a
corps of Portuguese at the back of the citadel. But as yet the chain
was continued from that point only by occasional patrolling parties;
and through this opening the enemy daily sent out his foragers and
brought in supplies. Such a state of things could not be permitted
long to last. It was essential to the prosecution of Lord Wellington's
future operations that the gap should be filled up previous to the
renewal of hostilities between his army and that of Soult; nor was much
time wasted in making preparations for driving the garrison within the
walls. Working parties laboured hard, not only during the day, but
during the whole night of the 24th; and at dawn on the 25th it was
reported that infantry might cross the floating bridge with safety.
This was the signal for action; and hence the 25th proved to be, at
least to part of the army, a day of hostile employment.