Rumours of War—The Rival Dinner-Tables—“Slender Billy”—Bonaparte’s
Trickery—Spanish Violence—Wellington with the Hounds—French and
English Aspects; the Outsides of the Nations.
Head-quarters, St. Jean de Luz,
January 11, 1814.
MY DEAR M——,
Fine weather is now returned, and no doubt before we have been quiet
another week, should it last, we shall be stirred up a little by the
French. At present, all our usual avocations are proceeding, and all is
quiet.
The only event in my own establishment which has occurred is my taking
into my service a Spanish lad, in addition to my other servants, but
it will end in my getting rid of an idle Portuguese, who does nothing.
I found the lad begging and in misery, by the sea-side, and asked his
history. He told me he was without father and mother, and came from
a village two leagues beyond Madrid; that he had been under-stable
servant to a French Commandant, who had gone wounded from Bayonne to
the rear, towards Paris, and had turned him off. He therefore came back
here, towards Spain. At first I only gave him food, and then, that I
might not have to try him, took him to General Alava, who promised to
send him to General Frere, to make a drummer of him. The next morning
he called upon me before he started, and, being prepossessed by his
looks, I have taken him on trial. He seems active and useful; and I
hope will not return my charity by robbing me, of which there is some
risk.
A party of our suttling merchants here behaved ill the other night,
by insulting a sick officer; the worst among them escaped. One is
now in confinement, and I have sent in his charge. They are all in a
terrible fright of military law. Most probably he will not be tried if
he makes an apology; but it has answered Lord Wellington’s intention
by convincing these men that there is law here, and that they are
followers of the army and liable to that law.
On the neutral ground, on the great road to Bayonne, between our
picquets and the French, in front of Biaritz, there are at present,
in one of the houses unoccupied by either party, three young damsels
alone. They are rather pretty and interesting, and all say very modest.
For a time General Stopford, I believe, out of gallantry, put a
safeguard there, but it was considered out of our position, and there
was some quizzing. So the damsels are left quiet and alone again. They
come daily into our lines, to bring milk, &c., and some flirtation goes
on; but there they are safe. This is creditable to both sides.
I am told that the people at Hasparren, when the French approached the
place last week, and it was thought might occupy it, were manifestly
alarmed and dissatisfied, and wished us to stay. This might be from the
fear of a conflict there, or from the benefits now derived from us,
when the first irruption and mischief are over. Fowls are still, near
there, to be had for 2_s._ each, and turkeys from 7_s._ to 9_s._; but
this will not last, as people here have given, and others now ask, as
much as 12_s._ for fowls, and 30_s._ for turkeys, or even more. General
Cole, as we advanced, bought nine geese, at a dollar each; and this was
grand pay, and not from fear. Here they are 25_s._ each.
_Later._—How uncertain everything is with us! Marshal Beresford’s
aide-de-camp is just come in to Lord Wellington, and there is some
stir on our right again. Lord Wellington and several others are off
in that direction, and I am told the former stays out all night; this
looks as if something was suspected. I dine to-day at head-quarters,
and am to go as usual, though the chief is away. He asked me yesterday,
but I told him that General Hill had asked me three days before, and
expected me. “Very well,” said he, “but I advise you to come to me,
nevertheless, as you will get a much better dinner, for General Hill
gives the worst dinners going.” To General Hill’s, however, I went; and
though plain fare, compared to Lord Wellington’s, whose table is just
now very good, and much improved, I got a very good dinner.
If any dependence could be placed on appearances, I should say nothing
important was going on to-day; for I saw Lord Wellington after he had
seen the aide-de-camp, and he read a long letter quietly through,
seeming quite at his ease; but he takes all that arises so coolly that
this proves nothing. A sudden change again to rain will, in my opinion,
damp the plans of the French, if they had any, as well as give all
those gone off to the right a miserable ride, as it seems well set in
for the day. Wind and wet seem here to be winter.
What a change has arisen for our young Prince of Orange who was here!
I only hope he will not be spoilt by success and prosperity. In a
little time, after all, it would not surprise me to hear of his looking
back to the time he spent here at head-quarters as the pleasantest
part of his life. Slender Billy was his nickname with those who were
intimate with him, and he knew it; for one day, at dinner, Lord Fitzroy
Somerset, not knowing that he was present, said, “Where is Slender
Billy to-day?” Upon which the Prince put his head forward, and called
out, “Here I am, Fitzroy; what do you want?”
_January 12th._—Lord Wellington and his party came back to dinner
yesterday. The cause of the bustle was as follows. We had in our
possession a mill which belonged rather to the French position than to
ours; they attacked it, and, after some brisk firing, it was abandoned
to them, and then all was quiet again. This news passed Lord Wellington
on the road, but missed him, or he would not have gone on as far as he
did. Ustaritz is about fifteen good miles from hence, and the road in
parts almost up to a horse’s belly. Lord Wellington rode there in the
rain in two hours and ten minutes, and back in two hours and a half, up
and down hills and through the clay: this proves a horse.
The next piece of news you will, probably, hear first: but if you
should not, you have to learn that the cunning Bonaparte has been
making a treaty with King Fernando VII. privately about a peace with
Spain, and that he has sent it to the Cortes for their approval, and
has appointed an ambassador for that purpose to Madrid. The gubernador,
or preceptor and major domo of King Ferdinand, is either at Madrid or
on his way thither. Spain, and Madrid in particular, is said to be in
much agitation. The Cortes are to meet the 15th of January. This is a
very artful plan to create jealousies between us, if not to procure
a partial peace. We shall see now of what the Regency and Cortes are
made. They have in professions bullied much, and resolved never to
treat at all whilst a Frenchman remained in Spain. How they will act up
to their resolution is now to be seen.
_Friday, January 14th._—We have now French papers up to the 3rd from
Paris, and have got Bonaparte’s valedictory address, on setting out
for the army in France, to fight on old French territory. This, I
think, if the Allies persist, must end the business soon, for if he
is well beaten, there must certainly be a rising in France; and if he
beats the Allies, we shall in my opinion have a peace, except that he
seems determined, even now, not to give up Holland, and that we must
at all events retain, if possible. The crisis is, however, apparently
approaching, and that rapidly.
We remain here in _statu quo_. French desertion is diminishing, and
seems for the moment quiet. The only event of interest has been the
folly of two Portuguese officers near the Adour. They had had a long
parley with the French, were, it is said, drinking together, but
were somehow persuaded by their French new acquaintance to pass over
the river for a dance, or wine, or some reason of that sort, under a
promise of being allowed to return safe. They went, however, and have
never got back. Lord Wellington has written to Gazan, reminding him
of his having sent back six French soldiers, who were taken by the
Portuguese in the heat of the campaign, owing to a similar promise or
understanding, not having been known to them as made to the French.
Lord Wellington claims the two Portuguese in the same way, as being
taken by a breach of faith in the French officers. If this be not
acceded to, he then requests that the two officers may be put for some
time into close confinement or arrest, which, he says, they deserve,
and might probably meet here if restored. As yet no answer is arrived.
A French dragoon of the 21st chasseurs, a deserter, came in yesterday,
giving a curious account of his reason for deserting. He says he had
been fourteen years in the French service, and was now a corporal;
that his own captain’s nephew had lately joined as a private in his
troop, and that he, the corporal, had to place this man on duty; that
he was not tractable or obedient, and that he was obliged to strike him
with the flat of his sword; that the nephew told the uncle, and, when
they returned, the captain, as soon as he met the deserter, gave him a
severe blow in the face with his fist; and that, in consequence, he
immediately got on his horse, and came off to us. He is a fine-looking
soldier: and, though he has sold his horse for a hundred dollars, says,
that he now repents much what he was induced to do in the heat of the
moment; but it is now too late—the deed is done, and he must persevere.
I forgot to tell you, in my last, of an act of Spanish violence at
Vittoria, which has caused a strong sensation in the English army,
especially at Vittoria. The Honourable Captain G——, of the 94th, was
quartered there, and had had some intrigue with a girl. He at first
took her home to his quarter. Her friends had recourse to the police.
The armed police came, and were in the house to take the girl: Captain
G—— resisted, and the police were fairly turned out again by him and
his servant. When out of the house, they are said to have formed, as
it were, and then to have fired in through the door in cool blood,
and with no particular object as to taking Captain G——. The latter
was shot, and died almost immediately. Had this happened during the
conflict, it might have been correct enough, though rather harsh and
unnecessary in an armed police against an individual for comparatively
a trifling offence; but as the story is told, it is quite inexcusable,
and seems to have been merely an act of spite and vexation, at having
suffered themselves to be repulsed by the captain. It was revenge for
having exposed their cowardice.
The fox-hounds were out yesterday, and killed a fox; but had not a
very good run. Lord Wellington wore the Salisbury hunt-coat, sky-blue
and black cape. The Spanish General Frere accompanied him, and as
formerly he was a general of cavalry, and the fox soon took to earth, I
understand Frere kept up, but all his staff were distanced.
I feel now quite at ease about my animals, for I have collected straw
and hay, and furze enough for about eight days, which is with us
looking very forward, as much so as is prudent. My Spanish boy, after
being here a day or two, told me he would rather set out and try to
find his way to Madrid, so I dismissed him, lest he should take a horse
or mule to expedite him on his journey.
We cannot prevent the Spanish boats from still getting down the Adour
to Bayonne, though it is not quite so easy as it was to navigate the
river. If all remains quiet, Lord Wellington talks of giving a ball
here on the 18th of January, the Queen’s birthday, but nothing can
be settled long beforehand. The English ladies will be few, and all
married women. We have still only four of the legitimate kind. The
mayor of the town says that a number of the ladies who frequented the
balls before we came, and of whom I found a list in my quarter, are
still here, and will be forthcoming if called upon.
I find my French “seat of war” a most useful acquisition, as it now
contains the whole war, except our own, and that I have in the map of
this department, which is on a superior scale.
From four to six o’clock our promenade on the wall is quite gay, for
all the great men of business, including Lord Wellington himself,
generally appear there at that time, and the Guards also, though the
exertion of walking, to which we men of business are accustomed to take
at a true twopenny postman’s long trot, is too great for them; yet they
are formed about in knots and groups, sitting on the wall, or gently
lounging on it, and add to the gaiety of the scene. We soon perceive
when their turn of duty at the outposts takes them away to the front
for a week.
As a proof of the supine and inactive state of the Spanish government,
bread and corn are so cheap and abundant this year in the Castiles,
that they are quite without demand, and it even answers to bring
Spanish bread up here to sell, above fifty, and, I believe, a hundred
miles; and yet the Spanish nation, relieved from the French army
and our own, cannot supply the few men we have in front with us, in
France and on the frontier, with money or anything. To prevent their
plundering, we now not only have clothed Don Carlos’s soldiers, near
Hasparren, but have given them a month’s pay, and provided them with
rations of biscuits from England. With such a nation, and such a
population, the state of the Spanish army, and the supplies, which get,
I think, worse instead of better, is most provokingly disgraceful to
their government and leading men.
I have been much struck with the change in the appearance of this
town, when French head-quarters were here, and now that it has become
the head-quarters of the English. It shows the difference between the
two nations. When I was last there, all was gay and glittering, full
of chattering officers in their best uniforms, with gold lace and
ornaments, and prancing country steeds with housings and trappings
of all kinds. The shops were crowded with sky-blue and scarlet caps
embroidered with silver and gold, and pantaloons the same, smart
cloaks, trinkets, &c. The road was covered with long cars, bringing in
supplies drawn by mules gaily ornamented, and with bells, and waggoners
with blue frocks, and long smacking whips, whilst the quay was nearly
deserted, only a few boats to be seen which had just returned from an
unsuccessful attempt to send in shot and shells to St. Sebastian; the
sailors idle, and scarcely the appearance of a port visible. Bread and
vegetables were abundant; other eatables, not so.
Now we have, on the contrary, a different scene; not a piece of
finery is to be seen, no gay caps, no pantaloons, no ornaments. The
officers all in their morning great coats; Lord Wellington in his
plain blue coat, and round hat, or perhaps in his sky-blue Salisbury
hunting dress. The streets, full of Spanish mules, with supplies, and
muleteers, &c., all running against you, and splashing you as you walk;
every shop crowded with eatables—wines, sauces, pickles, hams, tongues,
butter, and sardines. The quay is now always a busy scene, covered with
some rum casks, and flour casks, and suttler stores; the sailors all
in our pay, at work constantly and making fortunes; the pilots in full
hourly employment, bringing in vessels here or at Sacoa. The latter is
full of masts and sails from Passages, Bilboa, Lisbon, or the West of
England. The prices are still enormous, and of course, the activity is
the result. The French peasants are always on the road between this
place and Bayonne, bringing in poultry, and smuggling out sugar in
sacks on their heads.
The Basques must have been a very happy race twenty years since,
for though generally a poor country, there is plenty of their
usual food—Indian corn, and excellent meadows by the rivers, which
are numerous. Fish is easily procured—the houses are spacious and
comfortable, and the children seem numerous, well-grown, intelligent,
and healthy. The men are tall, straight, and active; the women, stout
and useful, and rather good-looking. Nor was any great deficiency
of young men observable; the proportions seemed much the same as in
England, though certainly there are not so many tall idle fellows about
as in Ireland. The town, however, had evident marks of a tendency to
retrograde and decay.
_Later, the 16th._—By the last French papers (which we now have to the
8th, and which bring us the good news from Genoa), I find the accounts
of Bonaparte setting out to put himself at the head of a hundred and
eighty thousand men near Dijon or Maçon, is at least premature, for he
is still reviewing at Paris. We have stories of disturbances arising
out of the conscription, but nothing certain seems known about them.
The French, a few days since, surprised a few of our forage mules near
Lahoupon; I believe only eight. Lahoupon is a place which neither party
is fixed in, but both patrole through occasionally.
P.S.—Notwithstanding Cobbett says, we men from the Peninsula must never
think of marrying English women, we may at least be anxious about our
friends; for we are not, I conclude, worn out for friendship, as well
as for love. Tell me all you can, as usual, about every one in your
world.