The Author taken Prisoner—Kind Treatment by the French General—Life of
a Prisoner—Release—Details of the Author’s Captivity—Curious Scene at
General Pakenham’s—A Basque Squire.
Bayonne, September 5, 1813.
MY DEAR M——,
When you told me, some time since, that you expected to hear from me
from this place, I never expected to have realized in this way your
prediction. But as the French all tell me with a shrug, “_c’est le sort
de la guerre, Monsieur_,” I must submit to as great a piece of ill
luck as generally falls to a poor man, “_dans le meilleur des mondes
possibles_.”
On the evening of the 30th August I was, as I mentioned to you in my
last, stopped from going over to see the storming of St. Sebastian the
next morning by the general report that the French were in motion;
that an attack was expected on our line at daylight, to relieve that
place if possible, and that therefore head-quarters would probably
move. So it turned out; at six we heard that the French had all crossed
the Bidassoa, and were moving on. The baggage was all ordered half a
league up the mountain Yangi, there to wait orders either to proceed
further for security if we were pressed, or to return if we repulsed
the attack. At seven, Lord Wellington, &c., were off. By nine the town
was nearly cleared, and every one in motion.
Nothing can be more stupid than thus waiting a whole day standing with
the mules and baggage, to hear the result, without a creature to talk
to, and knowing nothing that is passing. One of the officers advised me
to go up the hill just above Lezaca, to observe a little what was doing
near, assuring me that it was quite safe. Just afterwards Major Canning
returned from Lord Wellington with orders, and said he would show us
the way to the hill and then go on. I mounted, and set out with Mr.
Henry, having sent off my baggage. Mr. Booth, the principal Commissary
of Accounts, Mr. Jesse, his assistant, and Captain Hook, the officer
who takes all the quarters for every one at head-quarters, determined
to join the party. When we had got a little way Major Canning remarked
that by going up the first hill we should see sooner what was doing,
and could then return to Lezaca, or stay and proceed as was found
advisable, and that we should be thus sure of not being cut off from
Yangi. This we accordingly did. When half up the hill we observed two
battalions resting under arms quietly on the top and having examined
them some time with our glasses, thought that they were Spanish; but
not being certain (for they are so alike as scarcely to be known at
fifty yards distance), we thought it advisable to keep to our left,
towards the rear of some of our own red-coats, whom we saw engaged with
the French in a wood further on. We did this, and then waited to see
whether those two battalions advanced and fired or not, to enable us to
be sure, by their fire, to which party they belonged. As they remained
at rest, we could not determine this point; and as there was much fern
and wood, and we were only about a short half mile off, we determined,
for fear of a surprise, to go back, and follow up the mountain Major
Canning’s road, where we saw our own red-coats. We did this, and just
before we ascended, ascertained that our people were still there; we
trusted firmly to their not giving ground, as the French were already
much advanced, and this road was the common communication of all our
army through Lezaca to Oyarzun and San Sebastian.
About half-way up the hill, or mountain, is a wood, from whence we
got a peep at the two battalions. We saw them moving towards the
English position, but not firing, and Captain Hook remarked that there
were several red-coats amongst them, so they must be friends; but
that, however, about a hundred yards further on we should be able to
ascertain, and if it were not so we must return.
At the end of the hundred yards the woods ceased, and the two roads
up the mountain joined, when to our great astonishment, just as we
came one way to the place of junction, two French battalions came up
the other, and we found ourselves within twenty yards of each other;
Mr. Jesse was still nearer. I heard a cry of _qui vive_, which put an
end to all doubt as to who they were; and after a sort of short pause
and drawback in the head of the French column, thinking, I believe,
that they were the head of an allied column, several moved towards us,
and two levelled at us. Mr. Jesse, the nearest of us, dismounted, and
surrendered instantly. The other two jumped off their horses, and,
as the side of the mountain was very steep, and no one could well
ride after them, they ran down, and the French having incumbrances,
I believe they escaped. I now think that was the best plan I could
have adopted. At the moment, however, as I was in the road, and nearer
to the French than they were, I determined to turn about, and try my
horse down the road again the way we came, thinking it a great chance
that the only two who levelled, and seemed ready to fire, would hit
me. They never fired, but some pursued, and one or two officers on
horseback. I galloped down, however, nearly a mile, at the risk of my
neck. The road then got steeper, and I looked round to see if any one
was nearly up behind me. I pulled up a little, as I found they had not
reached my servant, who was above a hundred yards behind me; but, on
turning round again to proceed, I saw, in the narrow part of the road
just before me, where the descent was steep both ways, one up and one
down, six Frenchmen; two in the road, two on each side, all ready with
their pieces up to their shoulders. Upon this I pulled up and we had a
parley. On my pulling up, and addressing them in French, they seemed in
doubt, and spoke some bad French. I then looked about me, to see what
chance remained, but seeing that they all levelled again, and cried out
“_prisonnier_,” the risk was then too great for the remotest chance of
escape, so I dismounted, and they instantly took down their pieces,
and ran up. In a moment, my two horses, and cloak, pistols, sword,
telescope, handkerchief, were all gone.
Having received some money just before, and fearing some theft from
my Portuguese servants, I had about fifteen doubloons about me, as
being the most secure place. One-half they found instantly, and were
so pleased that they scarcely searched more, except to take my knife,
comb, &c. I then told them that I was no General, having heard a cry
before from the battalion of “_voilà le Général_;” that I was only a
civil officer, a non-combatant; but that I had some more money, and if
they would then, when they had got everything from me, release me, I
would tell them where it was, and give it to them. This I did, thinking
as they had got so much booty, they would perhaps wish to keep it
secret, not to be called upon to refund any part, and that therefore
they would not be sorry to say that I had escaped, and let me go that I
might not have to tell the story.
They promised to do this, so I produced the rest, and at the same time
contrived to give my watch a twist up above my waistcoat, that when
they felt for it, they found nothing, and by this means I contrived to
save that.
The other speculation did not answer so well, for I believe they still
took me for a General. They would not release me, and I was carried
into the battalion, and then to General D’Armagnac (I believe), who was
behind their attacking troops. They were leading me into the fire of
our own people, when an officer ordered them up on one side. I said it
would be very hard to get me killed by our own fire, and that they had
better let me run across, and shoot at me themselves. Upon the whole
they all behaved very civilly, and without any violence. I there met
Mr. Jesse. I told our story to General D’Armagnac. He said we were very
unlucky, and seemed good-humoured, ordering the captors to give me back
two doubloons. After telling his aide-de-camp to take us to General
Clausel, who commanded in chief there, and then to the rear, he said he
would apply to get us exchanged (as that was now the fashion, and not
to release civilians gratis) for two civil officers, friends of his, in
England: and then lending me one of his horses to ride back upon, took
leave of us. The soldiers told me that he had bought my horse for a
trifle, and thus ended the fate of poor Blackey!
The whole was the work of half an hour. Whilst we were in the wood, our
people had just given way across this road to superior numbers, and
had thus left us exposed to this misfortune in a place where every one
had passed in safety all the morning, and so again from an hour later
all the evening. A little sooner, or a little later, we should not
have been caught above a league within our lines of the morning. Such,
however, was our fate!
We were then taken to General Clausel, and were instantly ordered
back to his former head-quarters. There was then a great outcry for
ammunition, which delayed the French some time, and, as they said,
saved our last position on this hill. I found that they did not,
however, know the country well, and tried to pump me as to what was
beyond, both as to men and mountains, &c. I always pleaded ignorance
as a civilian. They had contrived to get four small two-pounder field
mountain-pieces up this difficult ascent, and kept them constantly in
use, asking me why we, who were so ingenious, did not adopt the same
practice? I said they had taught us the art of war, and I believe
they had found their scholars had made very rapid progress, so that
if these guns were really worth the labour, I had no doubt we should
soon have some, but that such things were not to be found ready-made
in the mountains, therefore they must wait a little. I soon gave up my
horse to a wounded man, as they abounded on the road, and we descended
and crossed the Bidassoa by the ford below the bridge, as I found our
light division were still maintaining their ground near the bridge at
Bera (or Vera,) and had kept the other side of the valley all the time
secure.
A tremendous storm then began. We took shelter till five o’clock in a
hovel, but at last proceeded, the storm continuing, up the mountain of
La Rhüne, to the French position, and head-quarters—those of General
Clausel. Mons. d’Arnot, an officer belonging to the latter, was
extremely kind to us. He said our best prospects were not to stay and
sleep in the hovel, where we should be starved and crowded by wounded,
&c., but to go with him to the General’s hut on the top, where, if
anything was to be had, we should have it. He also lent me a horse part
of the way up again. We passed the French position to the entrenched
camp, where amongst a variety of huts of boughs, earth, &c., were three
rather better than the rest, consisting of a few feather-edged boards
at top, and earth and fern on the sides and bottom. These were for
Generals Clausel, Taupin, and D’Armagnac, for the attendants, &c. There
were only two places where it had not rained in considerably, and we
were wet through, without a change.
The General’s canteens were unpacked, and the aide-de-camp said, “If
he returns, you will have some dinner, if not, we have some bread.”
That and sour wine was all our fare for the night, and we laid down in
our wet clothes on the ground. They first gave us up General Clausel’s
dry inner chamber, but on a notice coming that he was returning, we
were removed to the attendants’ hut. There I passed a sleepless night,
our party being the two aides-de-camp, a colonel, a major, five of the
gens-d’armes, or police corps, Henry, the General’s cook, a friend, two
or three attendants, and about four wounded men who staggered in, and
lay in the middle. The horses were all tied to the boards, out in the
storm all night, and making a noise against our heads. The wounded were
groaning; then came an oath from an officer against them as cowards,
and asking how that noise made them any better? At last came a poor
creature with a violent colic; this last filled us as close as we could
lie, and constant quarrels ensued between those near the doors, or
those who came every minute for shelter from the storm and rain, and to
get help for their wounds. The lightning gave us a glimpse of the scene
every five minutes. Now and then an observation escaped as to the rain
swelling the Bidassoa, &c.
At three o’clock the firing began again close to us; at four the drum
beat to arms, and at six we got a little cold meat and bread and
wine, after the General’s breakfast, and about seven we were marched
towards St. Jean de Luz with a party of prisoners and deserters.
Amongst them were several of the Chasseurs Britanniques, who, with
their red jackets, had, by deserting to the enemy, and then advancing
with them, contributed to our being surprised and taken. We stopped
half an hour in the wood below, and got a little brandy from the post
of the gens-d’armes in the rear, and arrived at St. Jean de Luz about
one o’clock,—three leagues. This was Marshal Soult’s head-quarters.
Thither we went, and merely saw him in a crowd. We were then taken to
Count Gazan, and then to the Commandant of the Police, &c. We were
quartered at an inn with some gens-d’armes in the outer room; got
some supper at seven at General Gazan’s, to whom I mentioned what had
passed at Victoria; was allowed to write to head-quarters to let them
know where we were, and to ask for money, clothes, &c., if we were not
exchanged, and we were allowed to stay till next day to wait for an
answer.
No answer came. It was intended to give us horses to carry us to
Bayonne the next evening, but all were engaged in carrying away wounded
men, including some troops of cavalry, so we marched on foot about
three o’clock, five under a guard. We were delayed by the bad walking
of some deserters, and were then again caught the last half league in a
most furious thunder-storm, which soaked us through in five minutes. At
nine, we reached this place, three long leagues, and were taken to the
Nouveau Fort. The Marechal-de-logis gave us a bed between us, on the
ground, in a room with two midshipmen and a sick and wounded officer of
the 34th; and having got some bread and cheese, we went to bed, with a
dry shirt which he lent us. I have ever since had rheumatism. We occupy
a round tower here, and our soldier-prisoners are in the court below;
the Spaniards are above, and some sailors in confinement, as their
dress would enable them to escape. The two midshipmen were exchanged
the next day. From Mr. Babou, the banker, a most liberal and generous
man, we have got money, and therefore now go on well. How officers
manage who have no money I cannot guess. Only three of the numbers the
banker has given money to have had their bills protested, and he says
that if it is poverty he shall never complain, otherwise he should
wish to be paid. If I get back I have undertaken to speak to Lord
Wellington on the subject.
_13th September, Mont de Marsan._—On the 8th I received a most kind
letter from Lord Wellington in his own handwriting, as to an old
friend, telling me that he authorized me to tell the Duke of Dalmatia
he would send back for me any one named by him, to be given in
exchange.[6] I had just before received a notice to set out next day
for Verdun. I went with a gens-d’armes instantly to the General of
Division, Baron d’Huilliers, and to the Commandant-general Sol. To
them I told my story, and showed my letter. They advised me to send
my letter to the Duke of Dalmatia, and engaged to detain me until the
answer came back. I also asked to write to the Duke myself. The other
officers, who had already been to Moulins (where General Paget is),
wrote also for leave to go to a nearer depôt than Verdun, on account of
the expense they had been put to; they were of the 34th regiment, and
they also were allowed to wait the answer. The other five officers of
the 60th were dispatched with a _feuille de route_ for Verdun. On the
9th, about seven o’clock, I went to the play with two Dutch officers
of the 130th regiment, one of whom was with me when at La Rhüne in the
camp, and had been all along very civil, and had called upon us and
volunteered going with us to the theatre. I did this in order to pass
the anxious time away till the answer to my letter came. The play I did
not much enjoy, as you may suppose, though our two gens-d’armes were
very well behaved, and went into a box opposite, leaving us with the
officers.
At nine o’clock came an account that my letter was arrived. I ran home
and eagerly opened it. I found it was a very civil answer from Count
Gazan, full of good wishes, &c., but stating Marshal Soult had never
had any proposal made to him for my exchange by our General, or that
it would be done instantly; again assuring me that if any such should
arrive I should be instantly sent back, and that in the mean time
orders should be given that none of us should for the present cross the
Garonne.
The next morning (the 10th) came an order to be at Mont de Marsan in
four days, about seventy miles off, the chief town of the department
of Landes, and there to wait orders. We also got a letter to give to
the commandant there, to halt the others there, or to bring them back
if they had passed that depôt. I prepared a letter to Lord Wellington,
encouraged by his letter to me (I had before only written to the
Adjutant-general), and stated to him how matters stood, thanking him
for his kindness. This I enclosed in one to Count Gazan, in French, and
begged him, as a last favour, to forward it by a flag of truce through
the lines to Lord Wellington. I then hastily bought a few necessaries,
and engaged with the other five officers to be conveyed to this place
(Mont de Marsan) in a large coach with six mules, Henry in the
driver’s tilt-cart in front. When I went home to pay our gens-d’arme,
he was most unreasonable and broke his agreement; we would not pay him,
so he locked us in. I said I had the General’s orders to march at one
o’clock, and called upon him at his peril to release us, and to go with
us to settle the matter. He would not, but released us, and would then
take nothing. I then went off to General Sol, and told my story. He
sent for the man in a hurry, but as he did not come instantly, asked
what we proposed to give. I told him. He said if we were willing to
pay that sum (which was according to our agreement), “Very well, leave
it here, and you may set out; had you left it to me I should not have
made you pay nearly so much.” Accordingly at two o’clock we started,
and got, in four hours and a half, over four leagues of the country,
or sixteen miles, to a small village on the river side, where we dined
and slept. Our route was through Dax, but we had leave, as that was
knee-deep in sand, to pass by Orthes.
Next morning (the 11th) at four o’clock, we proceeded to Orthes to
breakfast, and got there, six leagues, by eleven o’clock. There we sat
down to a _déjeuner à la fourchette_. We then, at one, started again,
and before six got to Hugemont, where we dined again, and slept four
leagues further.
On the 12th, at seven, we set out for this place, through the heavy
sand in some places, and over a ruinous bridge; we did not arrive
until twelve. All along the road we found everything in a state of
the greatest activity for the supplies of the army—everything in
requisition. I longed to have some of the Spaniards with me, to teach
them what was to be done in this way. The love of coffee is much
diminished, and the lower classes are excluded from it by the high
price of that and of sugar. Other things are cheap, and we got our
dinner, beds, and all for five francs a-head each night. Our mules
were very fine, and each had a name, which we soon learnt, by the
constant dialogues of the old driver and his boy, one of the two latter
always running by the mule’s side, as there were no reins to the other
four in front.
We met with every attention and civility here, were in time to stop
the other five officers, and we are now all in officers’ billets, the
same as the French officers themselves, and have received for our days
of march the same as they do on the march,—a captain three francs, a
colonel five, a lieutenant two and a half, &c. I am at the house of the
principal engineer (from Paris) of some works going on here, Monsieur
de Beaudre. Great improvements are nearly completed in this little
departmental capital: a new wide stone bridge of easy access, instead
of an old narrow Gothic one, and an open space cleared around it; a
new Prefect’s palace, with departmental offices, &c. A new chapel, new
official houses, and much private repairs, are in progress: this is
very unlike Spain. I breakfast alone in my billet on my tea, which I
have discovered here, as the others have only meat and wine. I dine
with the rest—and to please them, but against my will—at six; we have
a good cheap dinner at four francs each. The poor officers do not know
what to do with themselves. I immediately applied to my patron for
books, and he gave me the range of several. After a play or two of
Racine’s, and a few of the _Contes Moraux_, I have attacked La Harpe’s
_Cours de Littérature_ at the Lycée, and am as yet well pleased; I walk
as much as my rheumatism permits. Thus goes time; but I suffer much—I
feel as if I had been broken on the wheel.
Poor Henry is more bewildered than ever, but flatters himself that he
shall soon learn French. If he could copy the activity around him, he
would be wonderfully improved. We are here full of the _Moniteur’s_
victories, and the little check the French appear to have sustained
latterly under Vandamme, in Bohemia.
Before I go to bed I get my cup of coffee, a small one indeed, for my
ten sous, at the café, read the news, and then retire home. This place
is very full, from the wounded being in part here; from the exertions
making as to supplies, for we have two hundred cars here in a day; from
some artillery drivers being here, and from the constant passage of
everything to and from the army. The Commandant has been particularly
obliging. We have a mile round the town to walk in, and are never
troubled by any one.
_20th September, Mont de Marsan._—Alas, poor Seymour!—[Hiatus.]
On the 21st, at Mont de Marsan, arrived my mules, pony, and baggage:
no letter. I gave up all prospect of exchange, and was stupidly ill
and tranquil. The lady where I was quartered, was very attentive and
good-natured, and I had begun my literary course, and had made up my
mind to my fate. On the 22nd, however, at nine, came an order for us
all to set out at eleven for Bayonne again. We did so, had some little
misfortunes, overturns, &c., but got to the Chateau Vieux, at Bayonne,
on the 25th September, and had the honour of being confined in the same
room where Palafox had been for three months, and all the great Spanish
prisoners—the Duke of Gravina, Prince of Castel Franco, &c. We staid
there, seven of us, until the 1st, in anxious suspense—the room too
noisy for reading, and I too ill for it, so we played whist, and killed
time in that way quietly. At five o’clock on the 1st, when at dinner,
came an order for Mr. Jesse and myself only to set out at six for St.
Jean de Luz, in the dark. We got a coach at six, the only vehicle to be
had; and I packed all my baggage, and mounting Henry and my Portuguese
on the mules, we arrived all at eleven at night, at the Police at
St. Jean de Luz. We were sent to an inn for the night, then the next
morning (the 2nd) taken to Count de Gazan, at ten. I found him very
civil, had much conversation with him for an hour, breakfasted with
him, and at twelve we were all packed off with an escort for Endaye, to
be sent over here.
The gens-d’armes took us first to Count Reille, whose quarters were
half a league on from St. Jean de Luz. He sent us on to General
Maucale, who was half a league further. He gave us a fresh escort, and
sent us round the end of the lines, down to the water side at Endaye.
All very civil in every way. At Endaye, about four, we were with some
danger sent across, mules and all, in a little flat-bottomed boat to
Fontarabia to the Spanish outpost. There also much civility, but much
delay. At five we got to Irun with a Spanish escort, were taken to
General Frere, found him at dinner—very civil. I then went to General
Stopford; he was at dinner. No quarters to be had, so I sent my baggage
on here, but got some dinner. At eight, came on in the rain here: found
General Graham; very kind. He gave me a bed in his quarters, and some
tea. Breakfasted here this morning; baggage gone to Lezaca; I am to go
there in half an hour. I have grown very thin, and am in very crazy
condition, but must get patched up at head-quarters, and go to work
again. This last month has been like a dream. I hear there has been
much difficulty about my exchange; but it is now over, I am happy to
say, and Lord Wellington has been very kind. I hope to do something for
my fellow prisoners when I see him.
Count Gazan asked me to get for him the following print or caricature
to complete a collection he has. Will you do your best to find it, and
send it out if possible. The Count’s description:—
“Une caricature qui a paru il y a douze ou quinze ans à Londres, au
sujet d’un voyage que fit dans cette capitale Le Grand Rabbin Juif
d’Hollande, dans l’intention de reformer la manière de vivre des Juifs
de Londres dans ce temps là.”
[N.B.—It was not possible to trace or find this print, though every
inquiry was made.]
_Oyarzun, in Spain, at the Head-Quarters of General Graham, October
4th, 1813._—Once more again at liberty, as far as my rheumatic limbs
will permit: the will, at least, is free, and I hope soon my arms and
legs will be so likewise.
_Lezaca, Head-Quarters, October 7th, 1813._—To-day I have a little
leisure, as every one is engaged out, and a grand attack is to be made
on the French position to drive them quite off that mountain, La Rhüne.
It will be, I fear, tough work: I dare not go and peep again, even if I
were well enough, so have taken up this paper. Baggage and all for the
present remain here, only ready to load in case of necessity.
Lord Wellington had much difficulty in procuring my exchange, and has
been very kind; indeed every one here has appeared very much interested
in my return, and “my French value.” The Commissary-at-War was treated
here like a prince, to procure me every favour, when he went back, by
his representations. In short, if my pain goes off, I shall not regret
my other losses, which amount to about 230_l._, but shall feel myself a
very fortunate man upon the whole.
Monsieur Babedac, the banker at Bayonne, is most liberal and kind
to all the English officers taken. I hear a hundred have had money
from him; only five bills of 110_l._ in the whole have been sent back
unpaid; this, I hope, Lord Wellington will pay, though the banker said,
if distress occasioned it, he did not wish it. Nearly all my baggage is
now collected safely, through the kindness of friends. I have been, as
you may suppose, much questioned by Lord Wellington, &c., and many now
seem to envy me the trip, as it has ended so well.
I will now fill up my former French letter a little more freely.
On the morning following, the scene at the French head-quarters at
St. Jean de Luz was very curious. First came rumbling back from the
attack seven brigades, or about forty-two pieces of ordnance, with
the ammunition-waggons, about a hundred, looking very gloomy, almost
all drawn by mules, and generally in good condition. You will here
observe how soon the French come about again. Then came the pontoon
bridge, and, lastly, perpetual strings of cars, with the wounded; the
poor country people shaking their heads and lamenting all this misery,
all wishing for peace, and all saying that it was their Emperor who
prevented it, from his unbounded ambition. This was the talk of the
officers, and of all. They said the Allies, if successful, would rise
in their demands; that Bonaparte was too proud to yield, and peace
would only be further off than ever. This was the conversation, when
they heard of the check in the North.
When the account of the first victory of the 25th came (which by-the-by
was the first information received as to the quarrel with Austria),
they were all in high spirits, and exclaimed—“_Ah! le pauvre beau
Père, il sera chassé_,” and “Peace from the North will either give us
peace here also, or enable us to drive you all back to Portugal with
the reinforcements which we shall obtain.” Things changed afterwards,
and three weeks after the bulletin of the 25th, &c., and only the day
before the bad bulletin came out, a _Te Deum_ had been ordered at
Bayonne, and a hundred _coups de canon_ for the first victory! The
people almost laughed at this themselves, though very miserable.
At the inn at St. Jean de Luz, where I was billeted with a gens-d’arme
at the door, we were allowed to dine with the officers, who were all
returning starved from the lines to get a belly full. I here met with
men of a superior description, Colonels of the Guards, Chief Medical
Officers, Post-Masters, Commissaries, &c. They were civil, some of them
gentleman-like and free in their conversation, much irritated at having
been beaten by the Spaniards, which, with a tirade about numbers, they
admitted to be the fact. Monsieur D’Arnot, a young man attached to
General Clausel, and a young Dutch officer, gay, tall, and handsome,
were the most attentive to us, and without any object, which most of
the others had in view, to get a wife back, or a lost portmanteau,
their letters, &c.
The people all told us that had we been quite prepared to advance into
France at first, Bayonne was open, and without guns, dismantled; that
we might have walked in and gone on to Bordeaux. I believe much of
this, but not entirely, and our men were nearly as much harassed as the
French. The French troops in the first confusion behaved very ill, and
plundered the inhabitants, throwing away their arms, and absolutely
flying. Marshal Soult’s orders on this subject were stronger even than
Lord Wellington’s were here. The inhabitants generally said that they
would remain quiet if the English came alone, and would leave the
armies to settle it, for all they wanted was peace; but as they knew
how the Portuguese and Spaniards had been treated, and what they might
therefore expect in return, they must all fly if the Allies came with
us.
Count Gazan is elderly, and I believe quite sick of his trade; he said
he wanted peace, and to go to his villa at Nice for life after twenty
years’ war. He gave me an invitation there. In general all the officers
and men were attentive and civil; some looked sulky, but most noticed
us by touching the cap, which is more than we do by them here. In a
dispute which Captain S—— had with a stupid old fool, the _Commandant
de la Place_ at Bayonne, General Sol, the French officers present
seeing that the General was in the wrong (as he afterwards admitted),
all bowed to Captain S——, and the General’s own sentinel carried arms
to him as he went out. This is flattering. The curiosity is very great
about Lord Wellington, as one of the great men of the age.
From the questions put to me when taken, about the grand position,
and on the way to St. Sebastian, I am sure that the French had a very
imperfect notion of the exact state of that part of the mountains. My
being a civilian was my excuse for giving them no information. Their
loss in getting back again would have been greatly increased, had
they got on to the next hill. As it was, from the river swelling, and
the men not being able to cross the ford at which I passed, but being
obliged to go round by Vera bridge, which was under our fire, the loss
was very severe. Had I not been put across early I should have had that
fire to pass through with them.
The country all the way to Bordeaux is barren and unproductive; mostly
sandy heath with vines, and a few meadows near the stream. I saw no
corn, only the Indian corn, and that much less luxuriant than here,
and with very little head of green for forage. The consequence is,
the French provisions and forage come from an immense distance, and
the supplies are very difficult to procure; the exertions, however,
are in proportion, and very unlike those in Spain of the Spaniards.
Everything, for two hundred miles and more round, is in requisition,
all the corn taken, and only _bons_ given in return; wine the same; hay
the same; every merchant’s car in the town, and all the country cars
with oxen at work for the public. The districts off the roads send in
to the depôts on the high roads; and from thence the corn, &c., is
forwarded to the army, to the depôts at Bayonne, &c. The hay for the
staff horses and cavalry comes, as Gazan told me himself, one hundred
leagues, that is, nearly three or four hundred miles, from above
Toulouse, &c., partly by water, but much by land. The people now feel
for the first time what it is to supply their own army in their own
country, and the grievance is no small one.
The army have had a half month’s pay; twenty months are due. The
prospect of payment of the _bons_ for the supplies is very remote
indeed, and yet though they all grumble they act with zeal and spirit,
and I still think, with the feelings of Frenchmen, would all unite
against invasion. In spite of all this, things in general are still
comparatively cheap; dear to Frenchmen, as they say exorbitant—to us
reasonable, except colonial produce: bread about 4 sous a pound, or
2_d._ English; and good meat about 8_d._ English retailed; vegetables
and fruit very cheap; wine equally so; oats and hay tolerably cheap;
even as I fed my animals (three) at the inns for the day for about 12
or 14 livres travelling, three feeds of corn—small ones, to each—about
6 livres, or, as I generally gave them, 8 livres. Hay about 6 or 7
livres and good—cheaper when I bought the articles at Mont de Marsan. A
good dinner at the inns, with a bottle of light wine, about 5_s._ each.
This sometimes also covered the beds where we slept. Tea only to be had
by ounces at a time as medicine; coffee, very dear; sugar (brown), from
4_s._ 6_d._ to 6_s._; white sugar, 7_s._ the pound.
The consequence has been, in a great measure, to put an end to the
great use of coffee: it is now a luxury for the rich, and even they
generally breakfast _à la fourchette_, and drink little of it. Of
_Syrope de raisin_, I bought a basin-full for about 9_d._ This is a
sort of vinous treacle, and gives a taste to tea as if it were taken
from a dirty wine-glass. The _betterave_ sugar was to be had sometimes
at Bayonne, but I did not meet with any. On some bad sugar being
brought to him one day, a French Lieutenant-Colonel, by way of abuse,
called it _betterave_, and said, it was only from some small sticks
being in it, as really he had seen _betterave_ sugar as good as any
other: they still, however, give 6_s._ a-pound for brown island sugar.
The Chateau-Neuf, at Bayonne, was just like an English sponging-house.
With money we were very well off. The man, however, cheated us; we
quarrelled; I got redress from the General; and on my return got into
the Chateau-Vieux instead, an old English castle, where we were in the
same room where Palafox had been; the Commandant, a gentleman-like
man—his wife a troublesome skinflint. The Commandant at Mont de Marsan
was uncommonly liberal to us all, so were the people there; equally
so, my patron and patrona; the civil engineer, Baron d’Huilliers,
who first commanded at Bayonne, was also civil, but more distant. He
is now gone to Bordeaux, and General Thevenot, the late Commandant
at Vittoria, has succeeded him. Their reports were, that Soult was
going to the North to replace Berthier, who was sick, and Suchet was
to succeed in command here. Count Gazan, however, did not admit this,
but never positively denied it. It was also said, that the Etat Major
would remove to Bordeaux for the winter-quarters. Perhaps the events of
to-day may hasten this. The firing is brisk all this time. We met three
cavalry regiments on the retreat towards Pau and Toulouse for forage;
the horses in fair order, but generally very inferior to ours in size;
the men very fine, which was so much the worse for the animals that
had to carry them. At one place, near Lain, the depôt of forage was
empty. I met a man running hard with orders, the Major’s messenger; he
was charged to inform the few neighbouring parishes, that unless they
furnished and provided ready at the depôt so many rations of forage
for three days for two squadrons of cavalry who were about to pass by
twelve next day, all fit to move on immediately, the squadrons would be
halted there that day to help themselves in the vicinity.
Small horses and mules were very cheap, as the forage rations were
stopped to the subaltern officers in France, and they all consequently
wanted to sell, and many of the country-people from the requisition
wanted also to sell. Bayonne was declared in a state of siege for the
purposes of police. One order of the police posted up in the Café
Wagram at Bayonne directed, that no politics were to be discussed under
pain of arrest. Out of the town, in the suburbs of St. Esprit, was a
magnificent hotel, quite in the English style; there our party stopped,
but were marched off to the Chateau. The activity exhibited by the
French Commandant about Bayonne has been very great; one hundred and
twenty guns have now been mounted, of one sort or another, instead of
about three. This number has been collected all round the country, and
new works are rising round the place every day. The young conscripts of
the usual levy were being drilled; they were fine young lads of about
seventeen or eighteen; too young for Spain, but who in a short time
would make excellent soldiers. At first they appeared dull and a little
unhappy; but in a few days they became gay like the rest.
The newly-raised thirty thousand for the twenty-four departments for
Spain were not yet out, but are to be out this week. I understood they
will be better men, being taken from the old lists of those who had
previously escaped, some of them twenty-five years old. This grievance
is very great, but the conscripts seem to forget it themselves, and
the old parents can do nothing. It will tell, however, some time or
other, I think; and I hope soon. My patrona told me that her sister’s
husband had been drawn five years since, got off on payment of two
thousand francs, and two francs per day since; he is now married, has
two children, and is still liable to be called upon again. A wish for
peace follows the relation of all these stories.
On the whole I was well treated, and it appears to me that in general
the treatment of prisoners by the French is very good. Officers are
allowed fifty francs a-month to live upon, and on marching, the same
_indemnité_ as the French; 5_s._ a Colonel and Major, 3_s._ a Captain,
and 2_s._ 6_d._ a subaltern. Our being able to obtain money makes all
the difference almost between our treatment and that of the Spanish
officers, whom they dare not trust on their parole, so many having
broken it. The worst treatment I experienced was being marched on
foot from St. Jean de Luz to Bayonne, with our own deserters, after
having been promised a horse, and kept back until we were caught in a
thunder-storm, because these fellows could not or would not march. The
soldiers are like themselves to the last; when marched as prisoners,
they jumped over the fences to get apples. The French guard stared, but
permitted it to be done.
_October 7th, three o’clock._—The officers passing from the front tell
me that all is going on well—that the French have given way almost
everywhere, though they still hang to the high rocks on La Rhüne, near
where I slept on the 31st. They say that the Spaniards have behaved
well, but that the 52nd and second battalion of the 95th have suffered,
while forcing the position through which I was marched in that
thunder-storm. We have no orders to move here at present. The reports
confirm the news that I brought in to Lord Wellington, that Soult has
gone, and that Suchet commands. I know nothing accurately now, however,
as I must not go and peep again for myself.
To return to France, and my dream there (for such it has appeared), I
must give you a notion of a French placeman in a little way, not like
our great sinecurists. My running friend, who carried the message about
the forage, accompanied me side-by-side for a league. The people wished
him joy of his prosperity; I asked him why? He said, “They think that
I am making a fortune, having a place in the hospital; and what do you
suppose it is?—I am the hospital-sexton; I bury all the dead, four
or five in the twenty-four hours, and all at night, digging half the
night. And for what?—for eighteen sous (or ninepence English) a day.
This is not the way to make a fortune, you will allow. My companion
makes a better thing of it: he is always tipsy, and leaves me to dig,
but he always sings as he goes to the grave. The people who know his
voice say, ‘There goes poor silly John!’ and give him a sous.”
Now for a trait of a gens-d’arme—a private in the ranks. We went to
the play at Bayonne with a gens-d’arme, and our friend, the Dutch
officer. On going down to the coffee-room, my companion, Mr. Jesse,
meaning to be generous, but not understanding the method of treating
a revolutionary gens-d’arme, told him to get anything he wished to
drink as we did. Upon which he flew into a rage, said he had drank with
his colonels, majors, captains, and had never been sent out to drink
like a servant before. Our Dutchman was obliged to explain to him, in
order to pacify him, the difference in our service between officers
and privates; said it was once so in France and in Holland, but that
the prejudice was removed there now, though it remained in England. He
then desired him to sit down and drink with us. With difficulty he was
persuaded to do so, and we all knocked our glasses together, and so it
ended amicably. I did not expect this. The military retain, however,
the only remnant of the equality of the Revolution.
The two midshipmen in prison with us amused us much. By mistake, they
were at first put in prison with their men for two days on bread and
water. Afterwards they were lodged in the same room in which I was.
We were five in all at first. They slept in the same bed, and were as
often alternately with their heads where the feet of the others were as
on the pillow. In the open letter they sent to Sir G. Collier, about
their exchange, through the French, they suggested the advisability
of bringing in two gun-boats close to St. Jean de Luz, in order to
prevent communication with St. Sebastian, and further, advised a little
bombardment, &c. The sailors, as they were marched, proposed to the
midshipmen to upset the heavy gens-d’armes by their great jack-boots;
said they would never be able to right themselves again, and that they,
the sailors, might get off. The officers, however, told them that it
would not do; so they were quiet.
_October 8th, 1813, Lezaca._—The result of yesterday’s operations was,
that the French was driven from all the mountainous parts of their
position above Endaye, opposite Fontarabia, and so along, opposite
Irun, to above Bera. I do not know that we have lost above five hundred
men in this part. The French did not fight well, and were not above
twelve or fourteen thousand here. What has passed higher up I know not.
It is said that the sixth division, near Maya, have lost men. I believe
Lord Wellington very prudently stopped short, in this part, near
Orogne, on the road to St. Jean de Luz, not knowing exactly the result
near Maya and Roncesvalles.
It is thought that the French must be in greater strength there, since
they are so weak here. Report says, however, that men have been sent
northwards. Our sixty pieces of artillery were all carried across the
Bidassoa last night, and are established on the main road. We have not
lost many officers. About three hundred prisoners were brought in here,
with eight officers, about ten o’clock this morning. How lucky it was
that my exchange took place before this, or it would have been at least
deferred, or I should have been sent back to the rear.
General Graham has just called on me. He is on his way to England
to-morrow; he had called to see Lord Wellington. He was very civil, and
assures me that my new mare is a good purchase; and so it ought to be
for four hundred dollars. Major Stanhope sold her some time since for a
hundred guineas, to take it back at the same if he returned. He did so.
General Cole gave him a hundred guineas when he was ordered away again;
this looks well.
_Evening._—The French still cling with three companies to a rock in the
midst of La Rhüne mountain, about half a mile from my resting-place,
now six weeks ago. The Spaniards cannot drive them out. Little has been
attempted or done to-day.
The day before yesterday, a curious scene occurred at General
Pakenham’s. A French militia Captain had been taken among the rocks—a
_ci-devant_ regular officer retired, and now apparently an active,
useful man, in organizing the Basque peasantry. He had some regulars
with him, and peasants without uniform. Lord Wellington had succeeded
in frightening him by threatening to hang him for invading Spain with
peasants. He seemed a country mountain squire, and rather simple,
though probably useful. He let fall much against Bonaparte, and told
us many truths. He was told that I had just come from beyond Bayonne,
and made me confirm it by many facts. He was surprised and puzzled,
but believed I had been there as a spy, and never guessed the truth.
Another officer, who knew about eight words of Basque, was passed off
as a proficient in that dialect. The poor militia officer stared, but
swallowed everything as easily as his dinner. His own account of the
chase of him by the Portuguese, the rocks he climbed whilst they fired,
given in the most animated style, was very entertaining. I was almost
sorry this unlucky Basque squire was to leave us next morning for
Passages, to learn a little English farming. He confessed that if he
had been a single man, and had not left a wife and servants with six of
the 6th Light Regiment boarding in his house, he should in these times
have been rather glad than otherwise to get away to England, to avoid
the present troubles. What he wished for most, however, was to return
on parole, as he could then be at home quietly, with an excuse to
enable him to refuse to take any part in what was doing. The arming of
the country being what Lord Wellington wished to prevent, he could not,
of course, favour this man.
_9th October, five o’clock._—The French have given up the rock on La
Rhüne in the night, and have to-day been beaten out of two or three
redoubts; but there has been but little else done, and some say we
shall now be quiet again until Pamplona falls. To-morrow, head-quarters
move to Bera, only half a league. It is a large ruined village. A
letter has been intercepted from Pamplona, stating that the 25th of
this month will be the very latest they can hold out; but we have heard
this already very often. It draws nearer the truth, certainly, every
time. Plunder has begun, and disorder in the French villages, and Lord
Wellington is exceedingly angry. He says, that if officers will not
obey orders, and take care that those under them do so also, they must
go home, for he will not command them here; many of our officers seem
to think that they have nothing to do but to fight.
This place, Lezaca, is grown very unwholesome, like an old
poultry-yard, and the deaths of the inhabitants are very numerous. So,
I think, there is no reason to regret the change.
FOOTNOTES:
[6]
Head-quarters, September 4, 1813.
DEAR SIR,
I was very much concerned to hear of your misfortune, which, however,
I don’t doubt will have been alleviated by the Comte Gazan as far as
may have been in his power, as soon as he will have known that to your
humanity in the first instance he owed the safety of his wife.
In former wars a person in your situation would have been considered
a non-combatant, and would have been immediately released; but in
this war, which, on account of the violence of enmity in which it
is conducted, it is to be hoped will be the last for some time at
least, everybody taken is considered a prisoner of war, and none are
released without exchange. There are several persons now in my power
in the same situation with yourself in that respect, that is to say,
non-combatants, according to the known and anciently practised rules
of war; among others, there is the Secretary of the Governor of St.
Sebastian, and I authorize you to tell the Duke of Dalmatia or the
Count Gazan that I will send back any person in exchange for you that
they will point out.
I send you, with this letter, the sum of two hundred dollars, of which
I request you to acknowledge the receipt, and that you will let me know
whether I can do anything else for you.
Ever yours, most faithfully,
WELLINGTON.
_F. Seymour Larpent, Esq._