Picturesque Quarters—Spanish Reverses—A Strange Adventurer—Spanish
Jealousy—Distribution of the Army—A Pleasant Companion—News from the
North—Morale of the French Army—The Artillery.
Head-quarters, Bera or Vera,
Oct. 15, 1813.
MY DEAR M——,
I have now a quarter with a most rural exterior, and a balcony all
along the upper story, hung with vines. The picturesque and the
comfortable, however, are not always combined, for the room is dirty,
and though small has four windows, with only large wooden shutters, and
no fireplace.
It will be but a cold winter residence, and I fear even less
comfortable in fact than my Frenada habitation. The ground-floor is the
stable, the centre devoted to me and to the family, the upper story a
great drying-room. The style of the house is, however, pretty.
Several of the best houses are destroyed, nearly all are gutted
of furniture, chairs, tables, &c., and many deprived of doors and
shutters, for the French camp. The wounded occupy some of the best
houses, and in addition to Lord Wellington’s staff, head-quarters, and
Marshal Beresford’s, who has returned from Lisbon, we have General
Cole’s staff here, and General Alten’s. This place was for two months
a sort of neutral ground between the two armies, so you may guess
that it is a little deranged. It has been populous, and contained a
considerable number of spacious houses, though not magnificent; yet
the room which Lord Wellington occupies is, upon the whole, better than
almost any he has had since he was in Madrid. It is well proportioned,
has clean walls, and is sufficiently capacious to admit comfortably
twenty-five or thirty persons to dinner. Of course he has furnished it
himself, for there are only bare walls. The largest house in the place,
and the best in point of situation, on a pretty knoll above the town,
was made what is called a strong house of, and a regiment of Portuguese
are now in it. The squire, I fear, has not gained by this arrangement.
The Spaniards were disturbed early yesterday morning about two miles
from this, surprised, and driven from a redoubt, with some loss in
prisoners and wounded. I believe, however, that they behaved well
afterwards; but a Spanish regiment gave way. That queer playhouse hero,
Downie, who was there as a volunteer, rallied them, and conducted them
well, but had his horse wounded. He once more exhibited on the Pyrenees
the sword of Pizarro, which had so narrow an escape when he was made
prisoner in the south. You may remember that he threw it back to his
friends across a broken bridge, when he was wounded and cut off by
the French. He is, I believe, very brave, and seems to take with the
Spaniards, though with us he can scarcely speak without exciting a
smile, or even more. He was first a Commissary in the light division.
The day before this little surprise, the English officers at General
Cole’s were remarking, that it was only surprising that the Spaniards
kept the redoubt and their post; for the officers were never seen
there with the men to keep them on the alert, and the men were cooking
without arms within twenty yards of the French sentries, quite
unconcerned. I hope this little surprise may save us from a greater;
but I expect some night that the French will make a night attack upon
the Spaniards, though that is contrary to their usual method, which is
generally to march two hours before daylight, and begin the attack at
break of day.
_15th, later._—I have just met Downie, and he says Lord Wellington
has admitted that the French were too strong for the Spaniards, and
that he had given them a fort to defend too much in advance in the
French position. The result, however, is that the French have kept the
redoubt, and are at work on it already, and have recovered every house
in the suburbs of Zera, or Sara, of which the Spaniards at one time had
nearly one half. Many say that this is properly a part of the French
position, and does not signify at all. Lord Wellington seems to have a
bad cold to-day.
Every one appears to have had some adventures the night I was taken
prisoner. General Pakenham’s horse and Captain Eckersley’s fell down
from a bank into the river below, and it was so dark that they and two
others thought it best to remain there in the trees till daylight,
and not stir though it rained. Lord Wellington and all his staff lost
their way, and were five hours exploring two leagues home in the rain
and dark, and did not arrive until ten at night after various perils.
It was a tremendous night. Mr. Heaphy, the artist, who is now here,
was nearly being involved in my scrape, and it is said he has, in
consequence of these risks, added ten guineas to the price of his
likenesses, and made them fifty guineas instead of forty guineas. This
is too much for a little water-colour whole length; but he has, I hear,
now taken twenty-six, and some excessively like.
Some of our houses begin to improve much, as many of the inhabitants,
who must be somewhat used to these events, are returning now with all
their doors and shutters, which they had themselves carried off and
concealed. Canning’s quarter is suddenly by this means transformed into
a comfortable sort of residence.
_Head-Quarters, Vera, October 16th._—Here I am still sticking to my
post, though in constant pain, and at times bent enough to act the old
woman, like Mrs. Sparks. The doctor still says I must, first or last,
go to the hot-baths at Sestona, but I fight off as long as possible.
Things must mend soon. The ration beef is like shoe-leather; mutton
I can scarcely ever get; fowls are 9_s._ each, and are all snapped
up before my man can resolve to give that price for them. Pork, ham,
sausages, salt-fish and bacon alone abound.
Every one seems to think that we shall make no other movement until
Pamplona falls, which, as usual, is daily expected. The French, in the
meantime, are in busy preparation, burrowing and throwing up works,
like moles, on every rising ground near them. It does not appear to me
that they ever really intended to defend this mountain La Rhüne; they
were in some degree surprised, as I told you; they had a notion that
we had sent two divisions to Catalonia. They will now probably fight
harder for each acre of ground, unless completely turned by numbers,
and a decided flank movement from Roncesvalles.
From the reports which are current, the whole of which I dare not
mention, it is to be feared that the Spanish Government and Lord
Wellington have not gone on well together lately, in spite of outward
appearances. The moment any General acts cordially with us, and a
measure goes on well, some reason is found for his removal. This
ridiculous Spanish jealousy would be endurable if they supported it by
exertions of their own, so as to enable us to leave them to themselves;
but we are now feeding and clothing their half-starved men in the
front, and they are doing very little in the rear to supply those
they have, or to increase their numbers. In short, five years’ misery
has not yet scourged them into reasonable beings, and turned romance
heroes into common-sense soldiers and practical politicians. The men,
however, seem now to fight well whenever they are well led.
_October 17th, Sunday, Post-day._—General Graham has acted wisely in
going home just now, his age considered. I told Lord Wellington that
the French officers said that he (Lord Wellington) ought to die now,
for he never would have such another year, and fortune would prove
fickle. He laughed, but did not seem disposed to acquiesce in this. He
is better.
I have just got four bundles of English hay, about a hundred pounds
weight each, which are to last me for ten days. My next forage must be
picked up on the hills, or bought in the market in the shape of baskets
of coarse river grass.
_Head-Quarters, Vera, October 21st, 1813, Thursday._—The week is
already half elapsed, and Sunday, the post day, draws near, leaving
me with nothing to say. I am like the Spanish country people, who
without waiting to hear a question always begin “_nada, nada, nada_,”
or “_nothing, nothing, nothing_.” They generally add to us “_Francese
roben_” and “_rompas todas_,” and as the French told me, said to them
“_Anglesi rompen_” and “_roben todas_,” but always to every one “_nada
nada_.”
I have this last week ridden out for half an hour every day before
breakfast, and an hour or two before dinner; and thus exercise myself
and my horses in the meadows about here, which are now of course all
open, and when it has dried up a little after the rain, make a good
riding-school.
The only news here just now is, that Marshal Beresford is to have a
separate command of a _corps d’armée_, not to act separately, but to
complete our system, which will be—General Hill, right column; General
Sir J. Hope, left column, which Graham had; Marshal Beresford the right
centre-column; and Lord Wellington the left centre: each consisting of
different divisions and bodies of the allies.
The French to-day are collecting upon the rising ground near La Rhüne,
and our people, thinking that this looked like a threat of doing
something, are all on the alert, but I hear no firing. This is another
anxious moment, for the fall of Pamplona is daily expected, and the
garrison threaten to blow it up, which will make some desperate work.
Lieutenant-colonel Elphinstone arrived here some time since with
Marshal Beresford, from Lisbon. He is now in quarters within a hundred
yards of me, across a little stream; my nearest neighbour indeed,
except Colonel Ellicombe, in that direction. He is here without his
horses, and without much baggage, or many comforts; he is therefore,
like myself, buying. His own horses only arrived as far as Ciudad
Rodrigo. He has made up his mind to stay till the war is over.
The French, in addition to a few conscripts, who have joined, have
called out all the militia in the neighbouring departments. This is
a new scene, but I have still great doubts of the policy of entering
France at all. The French now suffer severely, and grumble against
their own government. Invasion may stir up the strong vanity of a
Frenchman, and make him forget his grievances, in order to revenge
himself on those who insult his native soil. Five or six subaltern
officers have come over here to us; I believe owing to some Spanish
connexions generally, or disgust and personal disappointment; and two
inhabitants of the village on this side of St. Jean de Luz, Oragne,
came over here to avoid serving in the militia, which is now being
assembled.
_12 o’clock, Friday, 22nd._—Nothing was done yesterday. It was all a
false alarm in the front. The French, however, say that we shall be
astonished with some extraordinary news in less than three days! Some
say they mean from the North, some from Pamplona. If they are bold
enough in the latter to dash out in the night against Don Carlos and
his Spaniards, I think they would, with the loss of about one-third of
their men, fight their way to Jaca, where they have a garrison, and
escape. They would of course come out with provisions only, leave mines
prepared to add to the confusion, sally out in all directions, and then
push on in a body. Don Carlos with all his vigilance would not, in my
opinion, be a match for them. He has sent word to the governor that he
holds his head answerable for the safety of the works of the town, and
two Frenchmen liable to death for every Spanish inhabitant starved.
_Saturday, 23rd._—As I have dined alone every day since Sunday last,
when I went to Lord Wellington’s, I pick up no news. Your July
‘Edinburgh Review’ is wonderfully fallen off; in parts very tame, and
more like a poor imitation of the old ‘Edinburgh Review;’ and yet some
of the articles are curious.
We begin to feel the effects of this dangerous coast now. Vessels can
even now hardly lie in safety, though shut up in the close harbour of
Passages, and the last packet was close in on Sunday last, on the same
day on which Major Hare fought his way in, in the _Landrail_, and was
not able to land the mail until yesterday. Major Hare brought papers
to the 9th, but scarcely any news. He was closely examined by Lord
Wellington when he arrived at dinner-time. He had got up his lesson so
badly, that he could answer nothing clearly as to dates, but always
ended by a reference to the papers.
It is known that Bonaparte was at Dresden up to the 5th instant, and
that nothing was done. This some call bad, some good news. On the
whole, I think the latter. Colonel Gordon states that Bonaparte used
our position here, as a strong argument with the Emperor of Austria to
join him in force, stating nothing could restore matters here but an
entire new army of a hundred and fifty thousand men, who had not known
the English, and that he should be invaded unless supported by his
father-in-law. This is a queer argument to one who, I suspect, was only
hesitating through fear of his son-in-law’s strength being too much for
the Allies, and would tell the wrong way. He also states, that Lord
Wellington’s true account of Vittoria did harm in Germany, being much
under the notions they had entertained of it.
_Head-Quarters, Vera, October 24 1813._—Post-day. We remain _in statu
quo_. I see the papers have made rather a pretty history of my capture,
treating me as an old gentleman (as just now they well may), and that
my younger friends got off. In fact, however, the youngest of the
party, Jesse, was the first who was taken. There will soon be some
dispute here among the artillery and engineers on the subject of rank
and brevet rank.
_Head-Quarters, Bera, or Vera, October 31st, 1813._—I have been so
worried this week with business and other things that I have not been
able to write until the very post-day, so this will be short and hasty.
The weather has been trying, one day very cold, and I hoped we were to
have clear frost, which, in spite of my open room, is, in my opinion,
better than wet. The thermometer got down to 36°, close to where I
was shaving, three mornings since; but it soon turned to wet—raw,
constant, violent cold wet; north-west wind, and rain in repeated
stormy torrents. In camp our poor soldiers have had their tents torn,
and almost washed away; then we have had hail followed by snow. Colonel
Belson has written to me very feelingly, from the mountains, but seems
well.
Another drawback as to writing has been this. Three brigades of
artillery were moved along La Rhüne mountain, three nights since by
night. As they went close to the French pickets, to get from our left
to Endage, towards the centre, in our front, they have as yet only
reached this vicinity, and have halted here. Amongst them was Colonel
Ross’s light troops, and Captain Jenkinson, and young ——; the latter
came to me here, very miserable, wet, &c. To save him camp I took
him in. Here he has been three days, and with my establishment this
saves me some trouble. Besides which, one cannot get on well with
business with a chum always at hand, in a small room, night and day.
He is pretty well, and I conclude will remain at this place until
we move—at least until the army moves, which every one expects as
soon as the French will give us up Pamplona. This is _en train_ I
conclude. A proposal came out to Don Carlos some days since, but a most
unreasonable one; namely, to allow them all to go to France, with arms
and baggage, and to be on parole for one year not to serve against us.
This was refused. They made a great parade of giving our officers white
bread and champagne, and Burgundy, &c., at the interview. So much for
humbug. They said, “See how _forts_ we are.” To which we said, “Let us
see how your men are.” Every day’s delay now is very provoking. I hope
they will soon surrender.
I wish it were possible to get my chum another quarter, for I work in
general at breakfast, at dinner, and in the evening, and a companion
is a great inconvenience, though he is very considerate. Pray tell
his family, the Colonel, &c., how he is. Captain Jenkinson would not
go into a house, but pitched his tent in the wet, and went to bed
dinnerless, at four o’clock, from fatigue. He is, however, well now.
The work of getting guns along over a clay-road, up a mountain, in the
dark, without being allowed to use lights, is no trifling undertaking.
The news from the North is very good, especially the accession of the
Bavarians to the Allies; which, from the papers I doubted, but which
Colonel Gordon says his brother mentions as fact; Lord Wellington
tells me, also, that Government at home believe it to be correct. The
private letters from the Austrian head-quarters which have reached
here, do not say much in favour of the Swedish Prince, and seem to
think he has much of French humbug in him—_c’est à voir_. It is also
said that he saves the Swedes, and is always in the rear, surrounded
with guards and twenty sentinels. They speak well of the Russian
troops, and very ill of the French lads now opposed to them. You will
rejoice to hear that we are to have divine service here to-day in
the square with some troops. This will not do for me, standing out
bareheaded for an hour in the damp; I must remain a heathen a little
longer, I fear. Mr. B——, the clergyman who has lately arrived at
head-quarters, seemed to be a pleasant gentleman-like man; I have,
however, only met him twice.
_Two o’clock, Sunday._—Still nothing decisive from Pamplona. To-day’s
post brings accounts of no communication for two days, but that the
garrison desert twenty a-day, and say that the place is almost in a
state of mutiny against the General. To-day the weather has a little
cleared up, but our artillery horses are living upon dried fern and
corn—no hay, no straw, and very little coarse grass; every one in a
fidget to move from hence. Unless we can so maul this French army as to
have them at our mercy, and then go where we please, and stop where we
please, out of our own moderation, I think we shall not have any quiet
winter-quarters this year. As long as anything like an army remains,
the French must be doing something to molest us, unless we molest
them; and then the great nation can never submit to let our allied
army quietly take up their winter-quarters in the French territory—at
least I think not. Several of their conscripts have joined them, and
they make a parade of drilling them within sight and hearing of our
outposts, even in marching without arms, &c. Their deserters say
they have about fifty-five thousand men; it is supposed with their
conscripts this is rather under the mark. They are throwing up works in
all directions all over the country, and making breast-works, redoubts,
&c. A breast-work, half round a hill, appears to be turned up in a few
nights.
It must be allowed that they are industrious at least, but the _morale_
of the old soldiers is shaken very much. It is even said that the young
ones fight the best of the two. This agrees with the story that we
hear from the North: that before the Austrian ambassador left Paris,
a letter from Marshal Soult had arrived, stating, that unless he had
fifty thousand new men, who had never met the British, he would not
answer for the South of France.
I see your papers make Endage a fortified place—it is a great heap
of ruins; never strong, only once a fortified village. It was nearly
destroyed about the year 1790 by the Spaniards, and has never recovered
itself. In return, Fontarabia, once really rather a strongly-fortified
town, was soon afterwards blown up by the French, and the works are for
the most part still in ruins. The town has not suffered much, for this
was only a military operation. Of all the ruins we have made amongst
us in Spain, even including Badajoz, and Rodrigo, and Almeida, it is
said St. Sebastian is the most complete. It was a large, handsome, and
thriving town four months since: one side of one street alone remains
entire! every street is barricaded and blockaded! Rubbish up to the
one pair of stairs windows, and walls half down, make it dangerous in
wind to walk anywhere. Beside this, the large wooden balconies, hanging
about by a few beams at the two pair of stairs windows, threaten every
moment to fall, even where the walls are sound. Some repairs are
being carried on, however, in a few buildings; at least preparations
are being made, by clearing, and the works are in progress towards a
state of defence. Most officers think the destruction so great that
it can scarcely ever be a good town again—that is, as a town; as a
fortified place, with much labour, it may. The French garrison were so
disheartened in the castle, that they could not be made to do more, I
understand from the engineers, for it was still tenable for some time
longer when it surrendered. When the town was first taken, and our men
were all drunk about the place, committing every disorder, the Governor
was doubting about a sortie to recover it; thinking, however, that we
must have fresh men near at hand, in case of such an accident, kept
sober and together, he gave up the idea. Many say, that if he had done
so, such was the disorganized state of our men, that it would have
succeeded. His own men were very much weakened and dispirited.
Most of the light division tents in front here have been declared
unserviceable from rents, &c. The men are still returned healthy, to
the astonishment of all, even the doctors, who say the consequences of
this must soon appear. Wine is dearer, which is a good thing, and I
believe our men bear this cold wet weather better than heat.
Tell John his two newspapers of the 20th have been in great request. I
believe only Dr. M’Gregor had one besides Lord Wellington. They have
been much read, and I have now enclosed one to Colonel Belson, which
will probably be the only one in his division. It happened to contain
almost all the news of the last week.
Lieutenant-colonel Elphinstone is still here. I understand that he
got a queer answer from Lord Wellington when at Lisbon, which brought
him here in such a hurry. When he became senior officer of the corps
here, he wrote up for instructions from Lisbon, and to ask what Lord
Wellington wished him to do, and where he was to go as Chief Engineer
in the Peninsula? The answer was, that as Chief Engineer in the
Peninsula he would best know where his proper place was. Up he came by
sea in a week, in consequence.
A man to thrive here must have his wits about him, and not see or
feel difficulties, or start them, to go on smoothly. People wonder
at Lieutenant-colonel Dickson, Portuguese service, and only (barring
brevet rank) a captain of artillery in our service, commanding, as he
has done now ever since Frenada, all the artillery of both nations,
English and Portuguese. He has four seniors out here, but all young
comparatively also, who have submitted hitherto. E—— says it should be
a General’s command to be done properly, with proper officers under
him; others say the old artillery officers have rather changed their
sex, and are somewhat of old women.
Lord Wellington seems to favour the latter opinion a little. I conclude
that he finds it answer in practice. As an instance of this, it may
be stated that in the pursuit after the battle of Vittoria in the bad
roads, Lord Wellington saw a column of French making a stand as if
to halt for the night. “Now, Dickson,” said he, “if we had but some
artillery up.” “They are close by, my Lord.” And in ten minutes, from a
hill on the right, Lieutenant-colonel Rose’s light division guns began
bang—bang—bang! and away went the French two leagues further off. I
fear if there had been a General, that we should have had, instead of
this, a report of the bad state of the roads, and the impossibility of
moving guns. In fact, this same brigade of guns, with their mounted
men, took the last French mortar near Pamplona, and Lord Wellington
passed whilst they were putting it to rights to proceed. They had
killed two of the horses in it the day before.