Reports from France—More Desertion—Anecdote of General
Stewart—Wellington and his Casualty Returns—The Courtesies of
War—Scarcity of Transports—Wellington and the Trial-Papers—Sir G.
Collier.
Head-quarters, St. Jean de Luz,
January 1, 1814.
MY DEAR M——,
Many happy new years to you and all your party! We are now quite quiet
here, and have no news to communicate. We have repeatedly received
reports of the arrival of an English mail, but it never comes. This
may, however, arise from our having had three of the vessels at once on
this side of the water.
You will be surprised to hear that I had an old French woman, and a
young Spanish girl to breakfast with me this morning, on their way
through to Bayonne, from Bilboa. I had made arrangements for six mules,
and an ox-car to carry their baggage, but they mistook the tide in
their directions, and the baggage is only just arrived, so that they
cannot go until to-morrow. They are the wife and mother of a Monsieur
Dabedrille, at Bayonne, _ci-devant_ principal _Directeur de l’Octroi de
Bilboa_, who fled so quickly after the battle of Vittoria, that he left
all his baggage and females behind him. He was very civil to Colonel
Fitzgerald, who had undertaken to obtain for him the restoration of his
wife; and as the Colonel was not exchanged, I undertook it, got Lord
Wellington’s leave, and here they are, so far on their way safe. Not
having just now much business, I have had time to attend a little to
these good ladies, and they are really very pleasant and well-bred, but
just now the worse for having been six days on board a Spanish coaster
(of Bilboa), to get here.
We have just now got beautiful weather, clear frosty mornings—that is,
white frost, the ground just crisp, a little fog early, and a cool
breeze from the Pyrenees, from the south-east, and a bright sun during
the day.
The only news we have here is a report of the defeat of Davoust,
through the French, and an account which General Wimpfen has just given
me of the Austrians having taken possession of Switzerland. The French
here are hard at work, drilling conscripts, who arrive in considerable
numbers, and turning up the ground as usual in all directions. I
suppose we shall also, as usual, wait until they have nearly done their
task, and by that time, when the ground is dry, turn them out of their
laborious defences. It is quite extraordinary how all their former
position was covered with the effects of their labour.
The inhabitants continue to come in here to us every day, and now by
degrees we get cattle, &c., from them. Desertion from the French has
also been common, five or six men a-day, and many French, not Germans,
young lads, sick of their work. I now hear that the Swiss have declared
against France; that is one step more gained, if true. An officer, who
was prisoner at Bayonne, on the 13th, the day of General Hill’s affair
on the right, states, that the French were most sanguine that morning
at Bayonne; they said that two of our divisions were caught in a trap,
and that they would, General and all, be taken prisoners. They were
quite in spirits, but towards evening, when the officer inquired where
our General was, he could get no one to answer him, or talk on the
subject. All were sulky. Report says also that Soult is gone again,
and farther back; some say that he has been sent for to Paris.
One of the hay vessels, bringing hay to us, in order to plague us, had
got into Bayonne, and the French officers at the outposts taunt us, by
saying that they find English hay very good. This is very provoking,
for in consequence of this we have now nothing again to give our
animals.
_Sunday, Post-day._—I understand that there is no packet as yet at
Passages, to go with the letters. I have, after three hours’ trouble,
packed off my party this morning; four great trunks, two old women, and
one young one, in an ox-car; and four more large trunks, and a quantity
of bedding, and _et ceteras_ of all kinds, on four mules; and one lady
and a man-servant, on horseback. My old French woman, now she is safe
out of Spain, does nothing but abuse the Spaniards, their language,
their manners, their country, and, above all, their stupidity in
society.
I must now return to the work of drawing charges, which must be done
immediately. I hope there is not another task for me now passing my
window, for there is an uproar, and seven Spanish prisoners going along
bound to the provost guard.
We have now established a sort of little telegraph of signals to the
right and in front, to acquaint Lord Wellington immediately should
anything be going forward.
P.S.—I don’t think you heard a little anecdote of General Stewart, who
is brave, and consequently always gets his aide-de-camp, &c., into some
bad blows, if he does not get one himself. The people about him on the
13th were all touched, and he was nearly alone. An officer of the name
of Egerton went up to him, and whilst there a shell burst between them.
“A shell! sir: very animating!” said Stewart, and then kept Egerton
there talking on.
_Head-Quarters, St. Jean de Luz, January 4th, 1814._—Here we are still
without any news from your side of the water, and of course most
anxious. On this side we seem, however, to be preparing something for
you to talk about; at least, appearances look like another battle. The
day before yesterday (Sunday) all was quiet, and on Monday (yesterday)
Lord Wellington ordered out his hounds, and went off early himself. In
the middle of the day, however, the signal was made that the French
were in motion; Lord March and Gordon went off to Lord Wellington, and
he did not return last night. To-day the troops have all been on the
alert, for the French are said to be still moving on our right, and
in fact rather on our rear. The Guards were off early from hence to
replace the light division, who went to the right, and all seems moving
in that direction. No firing has, however, been heard; and I understand
nothing has been done to-day. I went as far as Guethary, and up to the
church-tower, whence the view is very extensive, but saw nothing in
particular. The last report was, that the French still advanced on our
right. If they persist in this, it is my opinion that we must have a
fight, and a sharp one probably, on that side to-morrow, but as the
staff are all out, I know nothing certain.
Two or three days since we took a little island in the Adour, almost
without loss, which will enable us to molest the navigation more
effectually than we have hitherto done, though already it is rather
impeded, even at night, and almost totally by day. A contest about the
island was rather expected, but not this bold move of the French in our
rear. If they persist and fail, I think with the two Gaves in their
rear, we may, perhaps, make them suffer severely for their enterprise.
Marshal Soult’s supposed absence looks now rather like a _ruse de
guerre_.
We have Spaniards on our right, and in the valley of Bastan, who
perhaps may now come in again for a little fighting; and it is to
be hoped they may, for if the French work constantly on the British
and Portuguese, and you continue to send men to Holland, we shall by
degrees get too weak for our situation.
Lord Wellington at dinner on Sunday directed some jokes at Major D——,
who makes out the returns, because he wanted to make a grand total of
wounded, &c., after the late five days’ fighting. He laughed, and said
that all might go wrong from this innovation, but he was determined he
would have no more grand totals until he got another Vittoria without
more loss; that the loss was always great enough in all conscience,
without displaying it in this ostentatious manner, and that he would
not have every drummer and every officer, &c., killed or wounded in
the five days, all added up in one grand total, but that at least
the croakers should have the trouble themselves of adding up all the
different losses, and making it out for themselves.
The weather is just now delightful, and we have had as yet nothing
which can properly be called winter. During the last ten days the sea
has been quite smooth, and we have not even had a white frost. The
people say they think that the first bad season is over now, and we
shall not have much more bad weather until near March: I only hope this
will prove correct.
A French carriage and a car were waiting at the French outposts to
receive my ladies, and they all got in safe. This was managed by
sending in a message the day before. A certain communication with
Bayonne is also now open; for yesterday we had an arrival of French
watches, rings, trinkets, and silk dresses. We carry on war in a
very civilized manner, especially if a little anecdote related to me
yesterday be correct. One of our officers, it seems, I believe Major
Q——, was riding a troublesome horse close to the French pickets,
and partly from the violence of his horse, and partly from his own
inadvertence, he got close to a French sentinel. The latter called out
several times that he was French, and ordered him off, and at last
presented his bayonet. The horse still plunging on, and the officer
apparently not understanding the man, the French sentry turned the
horse the other way by the bridle, and sent him back without offering
any harm to either beast or rider, though he might have killed or taken
both.
This morning we had another instance on our side. A French officer’s
wife came in from Bayonne to follow her husband, a prisoner in England.
We had a boat in from Sacoa to take her upon the beach, to carry her
round by sea to Passages, and an order from Lord Wellington waiting for
her there, for a passage to England as expeditiously as circumstances
would permit.
_Wednesday, 5th January._—No one came back last night, and St. Jean de
Luz is almost deserted; scarcely a red coat to be seen. The ladies are
in some alarm, and only some inquiring doctors and commissaries are to
be seen about the streets. I have in the mean time such an accumulation
of business for Lord Wellington that I shall be almost fearful of
seeing him—five Courts-martial, one of about ninety pages, another
eighty. He always complains, and yet I think he likes to read these
cases, and know himself exactly all that is going on. I have just been
out to pick up news, but in vain, and have been driven back by a slight
shower. Money has been so short here that I could only tempt them to
give me some doubloons immediately by accepting a part of my pay on
England in another Treasury Bill.
_Friday, January 7th._—Lord Wellington is not yet returned here, and we
are, therefore, still deserted; but nothing has been done. The French
have been manœuvring for these three days on our right flank, but in
vain, as our General was ready for them. Yesterday, however, he was
nearly bringing them to blows. A part of their force remained on our
side of the Adour, between the Nive and the Bidocque. This was too near
our position, and they were to have been driven across, but prudently
went away in good time of their own accord, consequently nothing was
done, and I think nothing will be done just now.
The French head-quarters here are at (I believe) Peyrehorade, a town
on the Gave, of some little river commerce. In our present suspense we
were at last amused yesterday by the arrival of two mails, and I have
got letters, papers, &c.
You kill men for me faster than I do in reality, and that is enough. I
am only aware of forty-one having been shot or hung since my arrival
in the country; and that is quite enough too, you will say, almost as
many as you hang in all England in a year. You were quite right about
the lost letter from me; it contained a full description of St. Jean
de Luz, and of my horrible muddy journey from St. Fé to this civilized
place, with a sketch of my house and its vicinity, &c., a ground plot
of my quarter, which, if time and room permit, I will repeat. And as
you do not congratulate me on my escape from being shot, I suppose that
story was there also.
_Later._—As Lord Wellington is still away, I continue to scribble to
you. This place has been a very flourishing town, and of considerable
trade, but is much in decay; this partly before the late wars, from the
bar having increased, so that only small vessels can get in now, and
the evil still increases. At low water the river only ripples over the
bar of sand, scarcely a foot deep, and at times the river is choked up
by the sand, so that it cannot make its way out, and floods the town.
This happened twice last year, but has not recurred this year, though
at times the bed of the river has been quite changed, and the water
nearly stopped.
Sacoa is a very safe harbour; for small vessels drawing under ten
feet, quite safe. They lie there high and dry, according to the tide.
The houses of the former merchants are rather magnificent, though some
are in ruins, and their number, for the size of the town, considerable.
It has been called a sort of little Paris for the Basques. Near the
sea the water has been, and is, gaining on the town and bay. There are
many ruins; one is part of an old convent, now beyond the sea-wall,
and almost in the sea, and some say a whole street has been washed
away. The great sea-wall made by Bonaparte, six hundred yards long, was
constructed to save the town, and makes a good dry walk.
Sibour is also a very large village, or small town, of inferior houses,
where at present two brigades of Guards are, and two other regiments
of Lord Aylmer’s brigade, besides some staff cavalry, &c. Most of the
better houses have French papers from Paris, and it looks very well.
The whole wall forms one landscape, like tapestry—sea-ports from Vernet
or Claude, &c.; some in colours, some in bistre or an imitation of
Indian ink, some Chinese, but in better perspective. The brown and
black are very pretty. Most of the walls are papered. The lower parts
of the houses are all a sort of warehouse (where they are not shops);
this serves us for stabling, but they are flagged, which having no
straw is noisy, and they smell much also. Almost all the men of a
better sort went away from St. Jean de Luz; several women, for the most
part old, stayed, and many have since returned; but no society, or
anything of that sort, is as yet set on foot here. The deputy mayor,
who stayed, sold all the wine he could appropriate, his own, and all
unclaimed, as well as other things, and is, I believe, making money
of us very fast. The town is now all a market or fair, and full of
Spaniards and Portuguese, as well as French and Bascos, all pillaging
poor John Bull, by selling turkeys for 25_s._ and 30_s._, and fowls for
12_s._ and 14_s._
The people from Bilboa have been most active. Little has arrived from
England or Lisbon as yet, which is extraordinary; but the danger of the
coast is, probably, the cause. During the bad weather ten vessels of
ours found their way into Bayonne, one with fifty-two Irish bullocks,
by which we lost part of the best beef we ever get, and one with
seven hundred trusses of hay, others with biscuit, &c. This is very
provoking. The Bayonne mayor showed us the post-list of the whole taken
in each ship. How we shall get on with our animals I know not, for they
tell me that they hear from England, in the Commissariat, there is but
little hay on the sea for us, from want of transport, and there is no
straw to be got at all now within thirteen leagues, or about forty
miles, from hence. I am, however, advised to send for it; and if this
movement shall come to nothing, will do so to-morrow.
It is fortunate that we are so near the sea, and have some advantage
as to transport in the river Nivelle also, for our transport is much
diminished by desertion of the muleteers from want of pay. The army is
more numerous than when at Frenada and in Portugal, and our transport
is now less. Were we to wander into France (as you suppose), away from
the coast, we should find it difficult to live at all. The boats of
this place are famous, and the men stayed here, or have escaped here,
and are all in our pay now, and thus things are brought round from
Passages here by sea, and then up to the division by the river as far
as Ustaritz, where they are then distributed to the mules of each
division. Even with this help the army cannot be supplied with rum,
except by buying it very dear on the spot of the suttlers, for nearly
all our remaining mules are required for bread and a little corn for
the staff. The meat supplies itself in a way—that is, about two-thirds
only of the flesh which leaves Valencia, &c., in Spain, arriving here,
falls under the butcher’s knife, besides the number which die on
the road; and yet all that can be stopped, when fagged or lame, are
distributed at the stations on the way. The suttlers, by the great
profit they make, can pay the muleteers as high as two dollars a-day
for each mule to carry up their produce, making us pay for it in the
end. This evil increases, for our muleteers, who only have one dollar
a-day for each mule (and enough in all conscience), are tempted to
desert and get into the service of the suttlers, who thus supply the
men with rum only at a dear rate, when we cannot do it. The pay of our
muleteers is now over-due twenty-one months for each mule: they have,
therefore, their own way, and are under no control at all. Nothing but
a sort of _esprit de corps_, and the fear of losing all claim to the
debt, makes them keep with us at all; and we must submit to their fraud
and carelessness, for we have no remedy.
As an instance of this, it may be mentioned that one brigade of mules,
which had twenty-four thousand pounds of barley given to them to bring
here, five leagues from Passages, only delivered eighteen thousand, and
almost openly admitted that they had taken the rest, which I suppose
they had sold to raise money. We could only set off the value against
their debt, for fear of losing them without getting others. There was
a grand consultation the other day, at which Lord Wellington, the
Commissary-general and his people, General Alava the Spanish General,
and most of the principal Spanish Capistras, or directors of the mules
and owners, were present, to settle what could be done. They resolved
to make the arrears all a debt, to acknowledge it, and then begin a
sort of new score. This is in imitation of the Portuguese; only they
do not pay the debt at all, but wipe off the arrears. One month’s pay
was also given by bills on the Treasury at a great discount, still
this was something to go on with, and we have not Marshal Beresford’s
absolute power to control these Spaniards, as he does the Portuguese.
Somehow, however, you see we get on.
_Head-Quarters, St. Jean de Luz, Sunday, January 9th, post-day
again._—As to length, at least, you shall have no reason to complain
this mail, though I am at work again at business; for on Friday night
all our warriors returned home to their respective quarters, and the
Commander-in-Chief to his papers. The latter had so increased upon him
in his five days’ absence, that he was quite overwhelmed; and when I
went in with a great bundle to add to them, he put his hands before his
eyes and said, “Put them on that table; and do not say anything about
them now, or let me look at them at all.”
This week’s manœuvring has not this time ended in smoke, but without
smoke, as nearly as possible, for our men could not get within a long
shot of the French, without following them beyond what our present
plans would admit. They remained a short time on our side of the river
Arrun, as it is called, in Casini’s great map, and Gambouri, in my part
of the French National Atlas, a small river which runs by La Bastide
and falls into the Adour, near Urt, a place half-way between Bayonne
and where the Gaves fall into the Adour.
We collected on the heights above Bastide, and made the signal by
a little mountain gun to advance. The French made use of the same
signal to commence their retreat across the river, and scarcely a shot
was fired. La Bastide, which is on this side of the river, we never
entered: but remaining satisfied with that line, the matter ended
there. A change of weather, to rain of no trifling kind, will probably,
I think, oblige both parties to be quiet for some little time again,
until sun and air return to us without wet, and dry roads enable the
troops to move a little this difficult country. It is at present very
hard work to get on, even in the best roads, and across the country,
which is much intersected with streams and rivers, and has only clayey
poached roads, and strong fences of hedge and ditch; it is almost
impassable. Lord Wellington, I believe, always went back to his brother
Marshal, Beresford, at Ustaritz, to which place he sent for some
English hay for his horses. The Adjutant-general’s department remained
mostly at Hasparren, which is, it is said, a very pretty small town in
a rich cultivated valley of meadows, where they fell in with a small
stock of excellent hay, not quite eaten by our cavalry, who are in that
part of the country.
All the people at head-quarters have come back safe and sound; but with
horses a little knocked up, and rather stiff with riding about twelve
or even fourteen hours a-day. Most of them, however, look the better
for the exercise. The most fagged of all I saw was our naval hero, Sir
G. Collier, with his lame leg. He had ridden everywhere after Lord
Wellington in hopes of seeing a fight, and coming in, I suppose, for
another knock on shore, but all in vain. He says, that the French never
will stand when he comes, and nothing is ever done. He is about to
leave this station.
And now for a little account of the Spaniards, in order to show you how
they plague Lord Wellington. We have undertaken to assist and direct,
with our engineers, in putting St. Sebastian into some order, and into
a state of defence. The actual working-party are, however, nearly all
Spanish. These have nearly all deserted, and little or nothing is going
on but quarrels between our people and the Spaniards in authority, who
thwart them. At first Lord Wellington thought that we were to blame,
and seemed angry; but he told Col. E—— at last, “If they go on so, d——
them, they may finish the work for themselves; but go over and see
about it, and make a report to me.”
_Later._—Another English mail arrived, and another letter from you
of the 27th and 28th, with papers to the 27th, &c. The great news
which yours contained as to Lord Castlereagh we had heard through the
French outpost five days since; but the report only stated that he
had actually landed at Morlaix, on his way to Manheim, to the general
Congress, for a peace. This was believed before your account came, as
it agreed with the general tenor of the late English news; at least I
thought so, for one. Whether it will end in a peace, however, is very
doubtful, especially if Bonaparte finds that in consequence of this
negotiation he keeps all quiet in France, and the conscription goes on
without resistance, and his armies in March next will be formidable. If
he can once assume an imposing position, it is doubtful in my opinion
whether he will come into the terms of the Allies. _Mais c’est à voir_,
and he has much to do to put himself in such a position.
Many of the French conscripts here join almost without any uniforms
or necessaries for a soldier, yet every deserter who comes in has
everything nearly new, and is better provided for than any of our men,
except the few who have just had their new clothing, &c., of which the
Guards, who, by the by, returned here last night to their old quarters,
form part. Just now the Italians begin to desert the French, and say it
is in consequence of their having heard that their division, which was
marched to the rear some short time since, was all disarmed and treated
as prisoners of war. This may not be fact; but the effect is that many
Italians come over to us.