French Attack—Plan of Desertion—Excesses of the French—A
Basque Witness—Sir John Hope—Movements of the Army—Sale of
Effects—Wellington’s Simplicity of Character—A French Emigré—Return of
Soult to Bayonne.
Head-quarters, St. Jean de Luz,
December 14, 1813.
MY DEAR M——,
As every one is still in the front, and I have now but a few letters to
write on business, I shall proceed in writing to you, and, if possible,
send this by the delayed packet. Yesterday morning, the French were, I
believe, to have been attacked again in our front, in order to drive
them back into Bayonne. In the morning, however, they were off, and had
disappeared from the disputed ground, and only appeared in the Bayonne
works. This made us suspect an attack from them on General Hill, who
was on our right, with only some Portuguese, and his two divisions on
the other side of the Nive. Reinforcements were ordered accordingly,
and all the grandees and amateurs went that way. So it turned out; the
French came in large masses and attacked us there, just as we were
moving about in our position.
At first they drove the Portuguese brigade there back from a knoll.
They rallied, however, returned, and recovered it. By that time the
rest of the two divisions were up ready, and the French came on in more
force. The attack now became general along the line, and the French
were beaten back on all sides with very considerable loss, and without
the reinforcements, which were not in time. I know no particulars at
all, for Lord Wellington did not return last night to this place;
but some who did, say that the French were very thick, as they came
forward in such masses, and some of their own disheartened prisoners
talk of four thousand men and more as their loss. These daily desperate
attacks, first on their right and then on their left, and the accounts
given by the German Nassau officers, make me suspect very much that
Soult will after this be off altogether further to the rear after
having obeyed his order, by a desperate attempt to drive us back into
Spain again. I hear that he wrote to Lord Wellington before these five
days’ fighting, to say that we must positively quit France, and that,
to save bloodshed, he wished Lord Wellington would retire of his own
accord. I did not learn this, however, from the very best authority.
The day before yesterday I met at dinner the Major of the Nassau
regiment, a very pleasant gentleman-like man, aide-de-camp to the
Prince, and the very officer who brought the secret verbal orders to
the Colonel K—— to take the steps he has done. The Major arrived six
weeks ago, but they never found the opportunity until now. Similar
orders are gone to another battalion with Marshal Suchet, and to a
corps of Nassau cavalry there, and we have sent word to our army on
that side to endeavour to let them know that these three battalions
have succeeded. The whole was very near failing even this time: he gave
us all the particulars.
The French towards evening thought things were not going on quite
well, and ordered up all the reserves. Amongst the rest were three
battalions, and that of Baden, which lately had been kept much in the
rear. When they were all retiring towards their quarters again at
dusk, General Villette (Colonel Downie’s old enemy), who commanded the
reserve, was obliged to retire to the rear being wounded. He left
orders with a stupid old General who succeeded him in command. The
Colonel of the Nassau regiment was directed by the old man to retire
along the great road. He represented the numbers going that way and
the delay, and proposed a side road. The old man said, “Well, you will
do your best.” The Colonel then thought all would do, and was about
to march off, when up came the 34th regiment, all French, and their
commanding officer said, “_Monsieur le Colonel, j’ai mes ordres de vous
suivre sur votre route_.” This was most perplexing. The Colonel then
made an imaginary obstacle at the head of the column, and desired the
men to file one by one slowly. This tired the patience of the French,
who had been out all day. The Colonel then proposed his plan to the
officer commanding the Baden regiment. To which he replied, that he had
received no orders from his Sovereign, and, after hesitating a little,
declined. Colonel K—— then ordered him to take another road, and told
the French, as they must divide to get home at all, they had better
follow the Baden regiment. The French 34th did so; and the others soon
began to incline towards the English, firing away, however, but in
the air, to deceive any who might be observing them. They soon found
themselves near enough to send in the officer first, and the regiment
followed in spite of some shots from our people. The astonishment of
many, who not being in the secret, found themselves within the English
picket, and fancied they were all about to be made prisoners, was very
considerable; and their joy was as great when they were told the true
state of things.
The Major told us that they had seen constant service in Spain, that
their Sovereign’s contingent for Spain was about two thousand men,
but that the French kept it up whenever they could to nearly three
thousand, and more at times. He was at Talavera, and the bugle of one
of the battalions which sounded as they left, and marched through, was
English, and I understand was taken from us at the battle of Talavera.
He confessed the horrors committed in Spain was “_Nous autres_” (as he
was constantly expressing himself), forgetting that he was no longer
French, and then correcting himself, said, “_par les Français_.” He
said that it was a practice when the orders were issued to plunder and
burn places which had been deserted by their inhabitants, to make a
great fire near the place so as to make the inhabitants think a battle
was about to begin, and lead them to retire to some spot near, out of
the way of the fire, but never intending to desert their homes. The
troops then voted it a deserted town, and begun first to pillage, then
to burn. He described the French army as being now about fifty-five
thousand men, after this affair, of which, however, only about
twenty-two or twenty-three thousands were soldiers, that is veterans;
the rest raw recruits and conscripts, of which Bayonne was full; and
there you might now see, he said, even the blind and the lame compelled
to come forward and serve.
He said they were ill supplied with everything, and had no forage
at all; that one great store of biscuit was spoilt in the church
at Bayonne; and that the roads in the rear were so bad that hardly
any supplies could arrive but by the river—at least not without the
greatest difficulty and labour; that the Dax and Tartas roads were
infamous, and the one I went by, Peyrorade and Orthes, very bad.
Allowance must be made, I think, in regard to these accounts.
Soult was enraged with the inhabitants for wishing to return home
within our lines, and was much provoked at our not having behaved much
worse in this country. I have also understood from officers who went
with flags-of-truce, that the French are excessively angry with their
women for all desiring to come here to us. The Mayor of Biaritz, I
believe, is denounced, having given us assistance, and ordered to be
seized as soon as discovered. The French were two or three days since
in one attack actually in his garden, but could never get into his
house. Of course he had removed many of his goods, and was on the
alert. He has had a picket always in his house, and been very liberal.
Near that house our guns and the French were within three hundred yards
of each other, but neither could get at the opponent on account of the
formation of the ground. There was a small wood in the neighbourhood,
which was a strong point. Lord Wellington, &c., have just returned. I
must go and pick up news.
_Head-Quarters, St. Jean de Luz, December 15th, 1813, Wednesday._—We
are now all returned to our civil business again, and I have just been
to the Adjutant-general and Lord Wellington, as usual, to congratulate
them on their safety, at the same time to make my reports, and receive
fresh instructions.
All the reports confirm the account that the French got a severe
beating on our right the day before yesterday, and that our loss was
not that day so severe in comparison with the other affair on our
left. Our present position is close round the French and Bayonne, in
a semicircle from the sea to the Adour. The advanced posts being from
the front of Biaritz and Anglet, on the sea on our left, and so through
Arcamgues, Arrauntz, on the Nive, the centre, where our boat-bridge is,
and then through Monguerre, Petit, and Vieux, to La Home, on the Adour,
on our extreme right. Some alarm us by a report that head-quarters
are to be moved in consequence to Ustaritz, as being on the Nive, and
more central, and near the bridges. We all, however, hope otherwise.
Some Spaniards are come on now also, and more cavalry are ordered up.
Our abode here has quite spoiled us for the wretched places we must
crowd into at Ustaritz, down in a muddy hole, with the roads almost
impassable around it.
Unless you have a good map, you will find but few of the places
mentioned by me, and yet I have omitted two or three in the circle.
[The places were all found in old maps by Robert, a French geographer.]
I must go to work to draw charges, so adieu.
There is a most eloquent French, or, rather, Basque witness here, who
has been robbed, and whom I am keeping here to give evidence. He pays
me daily visits, and acts over the scene in question, and several
others, in very high style. The Basques are as proud as our Welsh of
their antiquity, and when asked if they are French say, “_Oh, que non
Basque_.” He tried to insinuate himself into my favour, by reminding me
that this country was once all English, and that the inhabitants had
still the memory of that, and favourable feelings accordingly.
Sir John Hope was, including his dress, touched in seven places,
besides a shot in his horse, and through his large hat. The skin wound,
though slight, is the only wound that gives him pain. Lord Wellington
blames him for exposing himself; with what face I know not.
_Head-Quarters, St. Jean de Luz, December 16th, 1813._—Though you will
have heard from me by the detained mail, which went yesterday, you will
expect something by the next, so I begin my work in time; concluding
that it will go Sunday as usual again. I have just heard that the
packet which went from hence the 22nd, with our letters to the 21st of
November, was found deserted at sea, and letters, &c., supposed to be
taken, or most likely sunk. I sent you two long letters by that packet,
with a plan of my house here, and sketch of it, and the largest
proportion of prize Spanish maps, taken at Vittoria; begging you to
keep them, and those that come after, safely. It was in that letter
that I told you of my narrow escape at St. Fé from being shot through
the head by a dragoon whilst I was writing. The ball went between my
pen and my nose, and where my head had been two seconds before: one
cheek was spattered by the door splinters, and the other by the wall
plaster where the ball struck.
We have just got a most alarming report, as far as comfort is
concerned, namely, that we are to move to a little dirty village,
called Arrauntz, on the Nive, worse almost than Frenada, with the
exception of one good house, where roads are impassable—almost up to
the knees in mud. I believe this was certainly determined, but Colonel
Campbell told me just now he believed the order was deferred; I hope so
most sincerely, for we are here rather in a state of civilization and
comfort.
I dined yesterday at head-quarters, and who should I meet but Count
de Gazan’s _ci-devant_ aide-de-camp, a fine gentleman-like young
man, with whom I dined at Count Gazan’s house at that time, Lord
Wellington’s now. He was then very civil to us. We dined yesterday in
his _ci-devant_ apartment. He was about to join Marshal Victor in the
north, as his aide-de-camp, when I last saw him; but being promoted to
a chef-de-battalion, this induced him to stop and take the command. It
answers to our Lieutenant-colonel; and he commanded a battalion against
General Hill in the last attack. Finding his men running away too fast,
he kept in the rear to encourage them, and give them confidence; stayed
there too long, and, in a word, was caught and taken prisoner. He is a
tall, stout, good-looking man of twenty-eight, and speaks English well,
having been in England some time before for education.
I gave him a good breakfast this morning before he set out for
Passages, got him a letter to the principal Commissary at Passages, and
handed him my father’s direction at Somerset House; desiring him to
let him know where he is ultimately quartered in England, and whether
my father could serve him in any way in London. So be prepared for a
letter some time hence from my French acquaintance. He is a staunch
Frenchman in everything, but I do not like him the worse for that, or
for avowing it openly.
He told me that we were not quite so secure in Holland, and that we
were not near a peace, but had much yet to do to obtain such a one as
we required, for Bonaparte was ambitious and unreasonable, and we were
unreasonable also. In some respects I agree, and only hope the Allies
will continue moderate. I offered him money, but he said he had lost
nothing, and did not require it, and declined any assistance. He said,
at the moment he was vexed that our men did not plunder him, as he knew
his own people would have done so by us. He seems a shrewd fellow, and
was therefore ordered off directly from hence.[7]
Lord Wellington looks thin, but was in high spirits yesterday. We have
more artillery and ammunition passing up to-day to the front, and,
I hear, they are making works to strengthen our position, and to be
prepared against any other desperate attack. This may be only Lord
Wellington’s usual prudence, as it does not look like a move further in
advance. Other circumstances, however, do rather look like a movement
forwards, and the strengthening this position may be either for the
present security, or for a position to retire to in case of accidents,
as we have now two rivers in our rear; or, which may be most likely,
for both. The fact is, we have above twelve hundred men digging away,
and artillery is going up.
My French witness here tells me a friend has just arrived from Bayonne,
who informs him, that whilst the movements were going on some days
since, Marshal Soult told the leading people of Bayonne, that all who
intended to move their valuables to the rear should do so by water
immediately, if at all, as circumstances might soon make it impossible
for them to do so by water, and the road would be entirely required by
the military in certain events. This does not look like much confidence.
_Friday, December 17th, three o’clock, and Sunday, December 19th,
Post-day._—A report of more work on the right, and we fancy we have
heard much firing. Lord Wellington is gone off. If matters have not
gone on well, or the horses get tired, we shall have a move yet, I
fear very soon; but hope otherwise most sincerely, that is, if it be
a move of head-quarters only. A forward movement of the army will be
another matter, as it will prove to me Lord Wellington thinks something
is to be done by it. Our cavalry is moving up fast. This looks like a
movement. It spreads out by Cambo on our right. I am also assured by
a French officer here in our service in the Quarter-Master-general’s
department, that the French cavalry are fast filing to the rear, and
have already passed Mont de Marsan, my former abode; and that many of
the old soldiers are from necessity sent back to Bordeaux to compel
some refractory conscripts there to move, for they are a little wilful.
He also told me that the loss of the French (desertion included) in the
late affairs last week, was, in the whole, about thirteen thousand men.
He is, however, a sanguine man; remember that. We are also said to have
taken two or three boats on the Adour, above Bordeaux.
_Head-Quarters, St. Jean de Luz, five o’clock, Sunday, December
19th, 1813._—I have just come from the sea-side, where we can now
scarcely stand for the wind, and are, on the high walk, quite wet with
the spray. A violent gale of some hours has caused this, and I have
been watching a vessel off here for a long time which has been in
considerable danger, but is at last safe in Sacoa harbour. She was most
uneasy at sea, made signals of distress, and the pilot-boats ventured
out, and by their help and working hard with the capstan on an anchor
carried out, she has at last worked her way in.
I met yesterday at dinner Colonel Barnard, who was lately shot through
the body. Colonel Rooke is dead. I feared it must be so, from what was
told me yesterday. He could not eat anything, grew rapidly weaker, and
the suppuration formed a mass clear through his body from one orifice
of the wound to the other, and not properly round the ball so as to
facilitate the extraction of it. Lieutenant-colonel West is well. I saw
him to-day: he was not touched. The report of his being killed arose
from his having sent a horse to the rear—I believe to walk. At the sale
of the late Captain Watson’s effects, I bought a very tolerable saddle,
with holsters, about half worn, for eighteen dollars, which is here
considered cheap. I bid 15_s._ for a curry-comb and brush, bad, but of
English make, and in England worth about 3_s._ or 4_s._—it went for a
guinea! I also bid for a Suffolk punch horse as high as two hundred
dollars, but Major Daring outbid me, though it was certainly very dear.
Captain Watson was of the Guards.
A party of Bayonne sailors have just arrived here I am told, who have
come over to us. Bayonne envies this place now. If we stay, and have
money, things will come in here soon from the French, for the geese
they bring in sell for four dollars instead of 4_s._ before we came,
and so with other things; we have also got some good French cattle to
eat.
_Head-Quarters, St. Jean de Luz, December 21st, 1813._—The furious
stormy weather continues, with almost continual rain, attended
yesterday by a most violent clap of thunder; such repeated gusts of
wind I scarcely ever witnessed. The inhabitants say, that it will last
so long as we have the wind from the sea. At the same time it is not
at all cold, and I have no fire except when I have been caught in the
wet, and am very damp. This happens if you stir for five hundred yards,
as the rain comes with a gust in a few seconds. The thermometer in
my room, without a fire, has been constantly almost above temperate,
and at times above sixty. We are at present all quiet again here, and
invitations are flying about for Christmas dinners on Saturday next.
Marshal Soult is angry with the inhabitants for being friends with us.
He is now circulating proclamations on our right, exhorting the people
to form Guerilla corps and to turn brigands. If we continue to behave
well, he will not easily persuade them to do this. The Spaniards who
demand rations and contributions against orders, and are not so orderly
as they might be (the few that are in France, that is), may perhaps
provoke them to arms, but I hope not. We now go about the roads here as
safely as in Spain; the only marauders indeed are the followers of our
own army and runaway Spaniards and muleteers. Our own army is behaving
particularly well, and now give me a little leisure occasionally.
To my great joy to-day, and still more, I suspect, to that of my
horses, I have got a good truss of English hay—140 lbs. weight. This is
a treasure. But to balance good and evil, the Commissary has given us
no corn during the last three days. So we go on! Many of the cavalry
horses get neither, so we must submit.
In spite of the rough weather, we yesterday got a packet and English
mail, and I received a letter from you of the 6th and 7th December, and
papers from the 4th to the 7th. You confirm our accounts of the loss
of the mail of the 21st November, and of two letters of mine to you. I
only hope they are sunk, though I recollect nothing particular in them.
I have no doubt —— plays the great man very well, and puts on all the
dignity of a Jack in office. He likes the thing, and has a turn for
humbug, of which there is so much all over the world in every line,
and which is often of such infinite use to those who can adopt it. I
think it very tiresome, and only rejoice that it is not the fashion
here at head-quarters. From Lord Wellington downwards, there is mighty
little. Every one works hard, and does his business. The substance
and not the form is attended to; in dress, and many other respects, I
think almost too little so. The maxim, however, of our Chief is, “Let
every one do his duty well, and never let me hear of any difficulties
about anything;” and that is all he cares about. I suppose one should
fall by degrees into a love of representation, and keeping one’s self
up in the world, as it is called (by those who have not much else to
float them), by habit and practice. I must say, hitherto, I continue to
think it far best to be able to do what you please, as you please, and
when you please, provided that nothing is ever done which in the least
approaches to a shabby or ungentleman-like action—so that the opinion
of those whose opinion is worth having is secured. The sort of incense
which is often obtained from the silly majority through exterior humbug
is not worth the price at which it is purchased. My vanity takes a
different turn, and I pique myself upon other things.
I attended another sale yesterday of Colonel Martyn’s effects. It was
quite ridiculous to observe the price at which some old things sold.
Two second-hand nightcaps, which cost about 1_s._ 6_d._ each new in
England, fetched 13_s._ This results partly from distress, partly from
fun in the bidders. Old towels 5_s._ each; blankets 25_s._ I always
feel hurt at seeing all an officer’s stock sold in this way, even
to his ragged shirts and stockings, tooth-brushes, &c.; everything
ransacked. This was very near being my case, also, when I was taken
prisoner. Mr. Jesse’s stock was sold, and he is not a little distressed
in consequence. I have received a note from Lieutenant-colonel E—— to
dine with him on Christmas-day, and have accepted, though probably
I shall lose a great party at Lord Wellington’s by so doing, for he
generally asks heads of departments on those days. I own, however,
that I prefer his smaller parties, when fewer grandees are there, and
Lord Wellington talks more and we drink less. A great party is almost
always stupid, unless there is good singing or good speechifying; and I
have now seen all the lions likely to be there. By-the-by, our Spanish
lions carry their heads wonderfully erect now, and are prouder than any
peacocks; or rather, I might say, they are now true Spaniards.
Yesterday I dined at Lord Wellington’s, and had another adventure. I
recognised an emigré friend at Mont de Marsan, of whom I had been,
during my stay there, very shy, fearful lest a malicious report should
get about that I was intriguing with the royalists. I reminded him of
his questions, &c., and of his speaking to me several times, and I now
explained myself and conduct. He was much surprised at seeing me in my
red coat, but immediately recollected me, and said I had given him then
all the information he wanted. My answers were short, but all true,
certainly. He has brought some congratulations to the Comte de Grammont
from the persons now on his _ci-devant_ estates, and their wishes for
old times and old landlords. He had got some money here, and is, I
suppose, to go to work somehow for the good cause. He is very sanguine;
but though I like and respect the _emigrés_, I always mistrust their
view of things.
A foolish Portuguese, who was sentenced to be shot, escaped three
days ago, and was off; but like a fool, he boasted in Spain of his
performances, was in consequence retaken, and to-day is to be hung.
_December 26th, Post-day._—Another of my French friends came in from
Bayonne yesterday—the principal banker at Bayonne, who gave me money
for my bill; was so friendly to us all and to me in particular, and
for whom I loaded my pockets so quietly with so many letters, above
a hundred in number. He has ostensibly come to receive the 110_l._
still due to him from five of our officers, and which Lord Wellington
intended to send him on my representation: but he has also obtained
leave from Soult to supply us with claret, &c., and is partly come
about that. The French, I conclude, are compelled to try this method
of making a little money; and Marshal Soult being, no doubt, ill-paid,
will go halves in the profit. I suspect my friend, however, may have
further views also, as he is a Spanish and English merchant as well as
banker, and of course a decided enemy to Berlin and burning decrees,
and to war in general, which is now nearly synonymous with being an
enemy to Bonaparte. Lord Wellington sent him to the Commissary-general
to talk matters over.
We have been all quiet here this week, except a little cavalry skirmish
on our right. The French cavalry, I hear, had driven in some of Don
Murillo’s Spaniards, with Hill, in that quarter, and two squadrons of
our 18th Hussars were ordered to drive the French back. This they did,
as they were ordered, without loss, but as usual would do more, and
pushing hastily on fell in with the French infantry support, which is
generally near at hand to the cavalry advance, got a volley or two, and
lost a captain and several men in consequence.
Our people will suppose that the French lurk about the country without
system or order as they do; whereas, however cowed and beaten they may
be, the system, order, and habitual rules, remain.
Some more of Don Carlos d’Espagne’s troops filed up from Irun
yesterday, and turning off about a mile short of this place, went
through Ascain towards our right—about five thousand in the whole.
Several of Murillo’s people are put under arrest by Lord Wellington
for misconduct. They complain that the men get sick in consequence, to
which he replies, “Then behave better, and that will not be the case.”
Some of our artillerymen have by accident burnt one of the best of the
few remaining houses at St. Sebastian, worth twenty thousand dollars
the Spaniards say, and about to be let for six hundred dollars a-year.
This will be quite convincing to the Conciso at Cadiz, and perhaps to
the regency, that we burnt the town on purpose, and are now finishing
our job. It is unlucky to give this handle to these most unconquerably
jealous Spaniards, and already the engineers and few English at St.
Sebastian are most unpopular. The weather is now much improved, and
has turned to frost for the first time this month, which improves our
roads, our spirits, and our prospects. The sea, however, has been for
these last two days tremendous, and washed over the stone bulwark
where we walk, and has cut off our supply of corn these three days
from Passages. I was yesterday caught there when walking with General
Pakenham and General Murray: the Quarter-Master-general ran one way,
the Adjutant-general and I another; the former escaped, and so did the
latter and I, though the foam and surf burst upright, close to us,
above our heads, and then washed our legs midway up; but the force was
broken, and we were not moved, only wetted. The natives and many of our
officers think this roaring ocean predicts more bad weather here again,
but I hope it only proves a storm some two hundred miles off in the
main ocean, as I have always observed there is little connexion here
between our land-storms and the state of the sea, which seems to be
moved by other causes, of which probably one is the agitation caused by
the flood spring-tides.
_Monday._—Marshal Soult has returned again to Bayonne. Lord Wellington,
&c., are all out with the hounds.
FOOTNOTES:
[7] He made no application to Mr. Larpent’s family, nor did he call at
Somerset House.