News from France—Lord Fitzroy Somerset—Departure of the Prince of
Orange—Exchange of Prisoners—Proximity of the two Armies—Wellington’s
Cooks—Warlike Movements—French Attack—The Guards—-Deserters—More
Fighting.
Head-quarters, St. Jean de Luz,
December 2, 1813.
MY DEAR M——,
At last we have got a mail from England. Your papers give us little
public news, that is, news to us, for you have no late accounts from
the Allies, and French papers we always get sooner this way. Thus we
have long known of Bonaparte’s arrival at Paris, which you only just
now communicate to us. Lord Wellington has, I understand, news of a
rising in Holland; and this has been confirmed by our reports through
the French, who, in conversation with Dashwood yesterday, when he went
in with a flag-of-truce, and a parcel of women, seemed to admit it. We
had had this as a report before the arrival of the packet, and Major
Dashwood therefore tried to pump them on the subject. We have also had
a report here that Admiral Young had taken the Texel fleet; but as no
news of this sort has reached us from you, we fear from dates that this
must be all false.
This is only a Passages report from some straggling ships, not French
news. The deserters who come in also from Bayonne, and the returned
inhabitants, all state that the Italian regiments here have been
removed to the rear; at least all Italian officers have given up their
lodgings and have packed up. I think now that they will scarcely
rely much upon the Dutch either, and there were some line men and
several good officers of that nation here. I told you that the only two
officers who were disinterested, and most uniformly civil to us whilst
we were prisoners, were two Dutchmen of the 130th regiment.
The Burgundy side of France (Switzerland being with us) is certainly
as unguarded as this frontier, except by a naturally strong country in
places. Strasburg, almost the only strong place except our old friends
Huningen and Kehl, is far removed, and the latter may probably be left
on one side, but for all this the French Italian army must be well
disposed of first.
If Lord Charles Somerset deserves promotion as well as our Military
Secretary here, the grumbling you mention against his appointment must
be unfounded. The latter gets through a great amount of business with
little assistance, and always quite in public, almost in a common
coffee or lounging room, in the midst of talking, noise, joking, and
confusion. The Prince of Orange left us yesterday. As he used to be
one of the above loungers, this put me in mind of him. He has had a
complaint in his eyes, and could not embark before yesterday, when he
did so with a fair wind. His arrival, however, and all news about him
will precede this. The French, yesterday, when told that he was going
off for England, said, “Oh they supposed that it was in consequence of
what had happened in Holland.” In short, the French seem still (as when
I was in France and now even more so) willing to listen to all bad news
against Bonaparte, and do not make the least of it at all. All exchange
of officers here has now, I fear, at last been broken off, and angry
letters have passed. How fortunate I was! I will send in your French
Captain Le Fevre’s letter concerning his exchange, if an opportunity
should offer soon, and it is permitted.
_Friday, December 3rd._—I find Lord Wellington’s news about a Dutch
insurrection came to him by a telegraphic note from Mr. Croker, dated
the 20th ult. This is a grand point. Next for Italy, and then we shall
do; and after twenty-three years of murder, we have a reasonable chance
of being able to give the military word when things go wrong,—“As you
were.”
The Prince of Orange, from all appearances here, where the sea has been
tremendous, must have had a most famous passage; but I should think
a quick one, as the wind has been fair. We have a notion that he has
been chased by four French frigates which have escaped from some French
port. I yesterday gave a grand dinner at the French café here; the
dinner was abundant, and from the paucity of materials the variety was
surprising. Ten dishes for the first course, two removes for the soups;
ten for the second course, rotis and sweets together; ten for dessert;
and we were ten in company, and two excuses—dinner for twelve. Some
dishes were admirable, particularly all the patisseries. The champaign
excellent; Madeira and sherry very fair; port and claret very moderate.
I am now paying the bill, and the _tout ensemble_ is forty dollars.
I spoke to Lord Wellington this morning about the French Captain’s
letter you sent to me. He laughed and said, “Yes, when you can, you may
send it; but the whole matter is now at an end, and your companions are
all sent to the rear, as Bonaparte has refused to let the exchanges
take place, unless three French go for one British, one Spaniard,
and one Portuguese. The old squabble in Mackenzie’s negotiation, and
though very flattering to us as English, very unpleasant to our poor
prisoners.”
We have a most tremendous sea here—now worse than ever. The waves
at high-water break every time almost over an old wall about twenty
feet high on the beach, and come over the stone walk; they roar most
furiously, and are beyond anything I have seen. A Paymaster here
declares that he saw a brig go down, and disappear instantly, about
nine or ten o’clock yesterday, near Andaye. We shall be long, I fear,
before we hear again from you in England. I do not think that any ships
will venture near us now, certainly not to Passages or here.
_Post-day, Sunday, 5th December._—The storms have now subsided, and
the sea has become calmer; but the mischief already known has been
considerable. The vessel which I mentioned was seen to sink got at last
into the Bidassoa; but four transports, it is said, have been lost in
Passages harbour, together with several lives. One vessel drove into
a house and knocked it down; most of the shipping there is damaged,
and many of the boats have been crushed between them. An English
merchant-vessel, it is reported, also went down at the entrance of
Bayonne. The air is now colder, almost frosty, with a dry wind; the
mountains all covered with snow; I only hope this may last. No more
news from you, and we are here in a very odd state—I mean that our
armies are. A few years back the British were uneasy, in Spain, when a
French army patrolled within thirty miles of them. Now we have all got
quietly into quarters—are nearly all housed; and three-fourths of us go
to sleep tranquilly every night, while our front is within sixty yards
of the French.
Colonel S—— tells me that he went to breakfast with Colonel H——, the
Assistant Adjutant-general of the sixth division, at Ustaritz, and
there they were in a house with their breakfast-table within about
fifty yards of the French sentry, and within about two hundred of the
whole French picket, who, by one volley, might have broken all their
cups and saucers, if not their heads. The other day a Portuguese
brigade had a field-day close to the river in the meadows, and all
the French came down to look at them, and I have no doubt, from the
general report, to admire and approve; whilst, on the other hand, in
the meadows on the French side, the French conscripts are brought down
to be drilled; sometimes five or six squads are seen at once, and any
of the serjeants might be knocked on the head all the time by our
sentries; but this is now all well understood, and we thus quietly
bully or bravado each other.
Another party of inhabitants have come in here—women and children;
the men Soult detains. We shall thus add to our female stock, and to
the seven hundred Portuguese women and four hundred Spanish, who are
already in this place and the environs as suttlers, _vivanderas_,
washerwomen, &c. In short, here we are in quiet winter-quarters, for
a time at least, with head-quarters within seven miles of the French,
and yet we are all so at our ease, even in France, that the baggage
animals of head-quarters are gone now beyond Tolosa, forty miles and
more to the rear, for straw to feed the horses. Lord Wellington told me
yesterday there was no forage left here; and I suppose so large an army
never staid so long in these mountains. But yet, if a spring campaign
comes, no doubt we shall, somehow or other, find all our animals
forthcoming, and in a state for service.
The Irish oxen sent out for the Commissariat have proved very good,
excellent in comparison, and are served out as a _bonne bouche_—a
pound or two with five or six of the country beef. In short, we have
occasionally, of late, had the London alderman’s cry of more fat.
Without joking, Lord Wellington’s table is now very good in every
respect; and I think his aides-de-camp will be ill with excess, who
have this daily fare (unless there is a move), especially if the roads
remain too bad for exercise. Lord Wellington has now three cooks, and
an English and Spanish chief share the command, and, by dividing the
days, vie with each other.
More rain, more rain! I am sorry to say. I have just seen Lord
Wellington; he is much annoyed. A poor Commissary under charges has
fallen sick. I reported that he was at Passages, too ill to move to
be tried, and that I have two certificates of medical men of the
necessity of his going to England. Lord Wellington told me to tell the
Adjutant-general not to let him get away; and that if he remained too
ill to move, we must try him at Passages. It was for violent conduct to
another Commissary.
_Head-Quarters, St. Jean de Luz, December 8th, 1813._—A packet is just
arrived, and I have letters from you of the 22nd ult. and papers to the
same date. Letters and papers are, however, here by the same vessel to
the 25th. A most remarkable and astonishing paper!
I hope this fine weather will give us some hay from England, for I have
now nothing for forage but furze and bran by way of substitute.
By this packet came a long letter from ——; they want me to ask for
Captain ——’s promotion. It is my determination not to ask favours,
even if I supposed it would be of any use. One promising young officer
has, I trust, been saved by me, by inducing him to make, and another
to accept, an apology, and Lord Wellington to agree to this. He would,
otherwise, most probably on trial have been broken. My letter ordering
the Court to meet was taken by the French. This gave time, and opened
a long correspondence, which has given me much trouble; this, however,
I shall not regret, if it ends well. I must now go and prepare charges
against a German doctor for to-morrow, and against two Portuguese for a
highway robbery. So adieu.
_Thursday, 9th._—All peaceable business has ceased; and here I am in
an enemy’s town quite at ease. All the troops advanced about four this
morning, and we have here only a provost guard of about forty men, a
few straggling guards, and the muleteers, servants and civilians. The
French dared not to have remained so in any town in Spain, much less in
Portugal.
I went out to my morning’s walk on the beach. I had it to myself
nearly, and heard a sharp firing of both guns, and particularly
musketry, sounding quite close to me. Our present object is, I believe,
merely to move up our right, for we are much pinched in our present
position. We are now with our right at Itoasso, Espellette, and Cambo,
on the Nive; our centre at Ustaritz and St. Fé; and our left by Bidart,
Ahetze, and Arbonne, all on the Spanish or south side of the Nive. Our
object now is to move up the right, nearly or quite to the Adour, most
probably, only making a feint at Biaritz and Anglet, near Bayonne, on
the left, unless good fortune puts more in our power. We shall then be
more at ease, cover more ground, and open a little country on the right
for our cavalry to get quarters and accommodation, at least that part
which is still with us in front. This, it is believed, is all that is
intended at present.
Should the report of the French mayor here prove correct, or the
deputy major rather, for the chief is off, namely, that there is an
insurrection at Bordeaux, and that the Allies are within fifty leagues
of Paris, it may soon be _autre chose_; but at present we are only, as
I hear, taking elbow-room for winter-quarters, and putting ourselves in
a position to start when advisable. We shall also see how the French
are disposed to fight, and judge a little what forces are gone to
the rear. How angry it made me to observe the nonsensical reports in
England of our being not only in Bayonne, but in Bordeaux, and this
given out formally at the playhouse! To exaggerate just now is so
unnecessary, so unreasonable, and so injurious to those who do so much!
_Three o’clock._—The firing has continued more or less the whole day,
but has now become more distant, and the great guns near Bayonne are
heard occasionally. As yet, however, no news, except from a wounded
guardsman, just come in, shot in the hand, who says that the Guards
are advancing and the French retreating,—I conclude into their lines
opposite Bayonne. A fleet of twelve sail, or perhaps fifteen, in sight.
Hurrah! for hay and money, we all say! The army is only paid up to May,
and the staff to April. It rained much in the night, which was against
our movements, but has nearly held up since, though it has just dropped
all day.
_Friday, the 10th._—Lord Wellington did not return last night, nor the
Adjutant-general and grandees. I hear but little except that we crossed
the Nive well on the right, but did not make much progress in the
course of the day. On our left we did rather more than I expected, and,
it is said, pushed on to within a mile of Bayonne, with some loss; so
we rested last night, and we have had constant showers, very heavy at
times, ever since. This is very much against our arrangements.
_Four o’clock._—Here I have remained quiet all day, but in a fidget,
for from eleven o’clock there has been continual firing in our front;
and, as might be expected, though within six or seven miles of us, we
have had all sorts of reports, some rather alarming—to me at least, for
I believe Lord Wellington is on the other side of the Nive, with our
right, and I have not the same confidence in any one else, especially
as only a part of our army is on this side the river. The communication
is troublesome, and the French have evidently made a push here to-day
in force, whilst our brigades are all separated. The Guards came back
here last night to their positions and quarters, and the 5th division
to Bidart and its environs. Some Caçadores were surprised, and some
were made prisoners, and the French showed themselves in force in this
line, and have pushed us back to our old ground before the troops could
be collected again.
At two o’clock the firing was so loud, and so near in appearance, that
I began to look to my baggage, especially as an order came from the
Guards here to turn out again and advance. I have, however, just seen
the Commissary-general, Sir R. Kennedy, and he says there is no danger,
for he left the French checked by our works on our old position, and
met four brigades on the road advancing to assist. He was, however, a
little surprised himself at the end of his ride, to see what was going
on, for a fire suddenly began across the road where he was looking,
near our cavalry, and when he turned about, our guns began across the
other way, and he was obliged to get away. One never can be quite
secure in these attacks.
I am told that a note was taken from the French General Gautier to
the Duke of Dalmatia, which was sent to tell him that a deserter had
come in from us at two o’clock, and told him of the intended attack
yesterday, and complaining much of desertion on his side. It is very
provoking, that our men should betray us in this manner; but it seems
to have been of no consequence.
_St. Jean de Luz, Head-Quarters, December 11th, 1813._—From report
to-day, there were some slight grounds for my uneasiness yesterday. The
French made a bold push with nearly four divisions on the high road.
We had only one division, or only part of one, at hand ready. Some
Portuguese in advance were surprised, and lost prisoners and baggage.
The French regained all that they had lost the day before. At about
two o’clock they made a push at our position. A Portuguese brigade
suffered very much, and it is said dispersed. An English brigade also
is reported to have been unlike the rest of late: that is all I can
say. Lord Wellington had heard the firing and received intelligence of
the attack; he came across the river Nive instantly, and halted the
sixth division on this side, which was going over by former orders to
act on the other, on the right. The fourth was ordered up to support
the light division. Wellington himself was foremost in trying to rally
the Portuguese. Both he and his staff were much exposed, and had not
often, I hear, been in a warmer fire.
The French were induced to attack our redoubts and position by their
successes and numbers. Our reinforcements came up; they were repulsed,
driven back with loss, and the ground which we had already gained and
lost once, was nearly all in our possession again last night, at the
close of day. They talk of a thousand wounded, probably more, on our
part. We have taken some prisoners, and many wounded French; at one
time, however, a whole regiment of Portuguese, and some English also,
were nearly being made prisoners. The Guards, or as they are called
here, “the gentlemen’s sons,” were too late, as they had so far to
march. They will never learn their trade of being killed properly, if
they are thus nursed up in the rear. Their great grievance at present
is the order about horses and mules, limiting the numbers to the old
regulations, on account of forage, and allowing subaltern officers only
their one animal, so that if they ride, they cannot carry anything. If
they carry baggage, they must walk; and then when they come into their
quarters, and their real duty towards the men commences, they are unfit
for anything. The regulation is therefore severe, and most think that
it is unnecessarily so.
On the other hand, the present establishment of the Guards is
absolutely ridiculous. Every subaltern officer has his two or three
horses, and his three or four mules, as much as any staff-officer ought
to have. He carries his bed out to the guard-house, or picket, and
has his canteen fit to give a dinner and every luxury, whereas one set
of canteens per company would, in my opinion, be a liberal allowance.
Their General has given them six weeks to comply with this order, but
somehow or other they will contrive, probably, to evade it, or they
will be the most miserable animals in existence. Whilst they were in
camp, they left one officer with the men in camp, and the rest got
into houses, whilst in many instances at that time even the Generals
in other divisions commanding brigades, were out under canvas (then
in the mountains), or at most in huts. Both men and officers are only
fit for our old style of expedition,—a landing, a short march, and a
good fight, and then a lounge home again. The men were yesterday all
sorefooted with their march, but at church last Sunday, in their white
linen pantaloons, they looked in high order; and the appearance of
the men, the care of their dress, their discipline and general good
conduct, is admirable, when in quiet quarters here.
I met young ——, an ensign in the Guards, yesterday, a son of Lord
——. He is a very gentleman-like stripling of nineteen, talks of just
remembering Sir John Moore’s death, as the beginning of his political
knowledge, and something about General Castanos, and the first Spanish
publication of Cevallos, but is quite in a wilderness when you talk
of the old state of Europe before the French Revolution. He now
principally talks of the table, and who gives best wines and dinners,
and found fault with General ——’s, which I must say appeared to me most
luxurious, and reminded me of fine dinners in London.
_Ten o’clock._—Hurrah! hurrah! I have just been called out to see three
small battalions of deserters pass by with drums beating, and colours
flying, with their arms and everything in the highest condition, and
clothing nearly new. Two battalions of the regiment De Nassau, and one
of the regiment De Frankfort, in the whole twelve hundred men. This
is a grand consequence of our push, and must alarm the French not a
little. I should not be surprised now if we advance soon, whatever
might have been our former plans. Lord Wellington was out again in the
front this morning, up at three and out in the dark. He returns to
dinner to-day, and has invited the German Colonels and the Majors, six
of them, to dinner, to which he means to return. He has also desired
that they may now have their breakfasts, the whole remain in quarters
here for the night, and proceed to-morrow for Passages, I presume,
though it is several miles off, as the Spaniards occupy all the places
between, except Irun, which is voted unwholesome and feverish. Irun
will scarcely give a quarter to an English officer, and not to our
detachments coming up to join, who have to march through here always;
so I conclude that they would not do more for the Germans who have once
served with the French. The only drawback to these good tidings is the
thought of the poor wounded, crawling in, on foot, or on cars, and on
mules, crying with the pain of the motion. It is now quite fine, and I
must take my promenade by the sea; so, for the present, adieu.
_Later, the 11th._—Major D—— has found a friend in the Colonel of the
regiment which came over, and who has told him how it happened and
was managed. An officer from the North had found the way to him (the
Colonel) all through France, with an order from his real sovereign to
go over to us, and come and join him. He communicated his plan to no
one but the Major (one Major). They waited their opportunity, and when
it arose last night, he called the officers together, told them his
order and his resolution, and proposed it to them, but said he should
force no one; it must be voluntary. All agreed—and the men were too
happy to join in the plan. One officer was sent to give us notice and
clear the way, and to prevent any resistance or confusion. He was also
to make terms that they were not to be compelled to serve, &c. The
officer, however, did not like going back, and before any message was
sent, over they all came. On their arrival here to-day, just out of
the town, they halted, and put on their best clothes to pass through
in parade order, and very well they looked I assure you. They say that
there are many Spanish, and two good regiments of cavalry who would
probably come over if a pardon were held out to them, and that there
are a number of Dutch all ready to do the same thing, but they are
principally officers, and are not in a body. They are tumultuous and
troublesome, and only wait the proper occasion.
The Colonel, K——, has written to Marshal Soult, telling him why he came
over; that he was ordered so to do, and after reminding him that so
long as they were French, and he with the French, he had done his duty.
In return, he requests (rather an impudent request) that the women and
the baggage, or at least the baggage soldiers and servants, may be
allowed to join the regiments. He also asks that his band, which he
says was excellent, as it was his hobby-horse, and which was of course
left behind, may be allowed to join the rest. Of this, however, he has
no hopes, for his band was always a subject of considerable jealousy to
the French before he left them, and he is sure they will keep it now
for themselves.
I also hear that our staff officers were obliged to exert themselves
very much in consequence of the dispersion of the Portuguese, and the
reluctance of some of our own forces. Colonel Delancey took one colour,
and rode on before the regiments to carry them on. General Hope was
much exposed, and got two blows; one on the shin, and one on his side,
but of no consequence. General Pakenham had a horse shot under him—his
best charger. General Robinson is shot through the body; a bad wound.
Two of General Sir S. Cotton’s officers, his aide-de-camps, who were
there as amateurs, suffered. One coming home was shot in the thigh.
Many others had narrow escapes, and Lord Wellington remained exposed,
untouched! This is really wonderful.
To-day again there was some fighting, but only on our left, a sort
of trial of the French strength. We lost, I hear, however, several
men, particularly of the 9th. On the whole, with wounded and sick,
we shall be much reduced by this week’s work, and I still think can
scarcely advance safely any further, unless you send men here instead
of to Holland, or unless we can get a good corps of Spaniards to join
us under officers who will keep them in order. O’Donnell, the Condé
D’Obisbal, is come up again, and will do, for he will hang his men
until he gets order and obedience. Lord Wellington has also got his
full powers renewed by the Spaniards, and may now perhaps try them once
more, if tempted to advance after what has happened.
_Sunday, 12th December, 3 o’clock._—Every one has gone out again, but
nothing expected to be done to-day. The French attacked us after sunset
last night in force, in hopes, probably, of catching us napping again,
and getting more baggage, but it did not succeed. The Germans are kept
here to-day. My first letter, up to the 11th, I have sealed and sent,
and keep this open in case of more news, for which I must hunt, and
then come in and finish this, and after dinner divide my prize maps of
this canton, and of the whole seat of the northern war—French maps of
this year; great prizes. For the present, adieu.
_Five o’clock._—More fighting again to-day. The French columns
appeared, and we threw some shells amongst them. This brought on a
quarrel, and we skirmished sharply for a long time; the Guards were
principally concerned; the Adjutant killed, Lieutenant-colonel, and a
Captain. I hear of no advantage gained on either side—mere fighting.
Our entrenching tools are sent for, so I suppose we are going to make
ourselves snug to remain quiet.
_Six o’clock._—No more news, and no more fighting, but I have just
heard that Lieutenant-colonel D—— W—— is shot in the head, and some
say killed; some contradict it altogether. I had told Miss W that he
was well, in a letter just gone to the post. The Paymaster-general and
several amateurs got suddenly into fire without intending it the other
day. It is better now to stay at home, for one fight is much like any
other, and I have now seen some of the best which are likely to happen.