Army Supplies—Offending Villages—Symptoms of Work—Arrival of the Duke
D’Angoulême—The Bridge across the Adour—Wellington and his Chief
Engineer—His Activity.
Head-quarters, St. Jean de Luz,
February 2, 1814.
MY DEAR M——
Here we remain absolutely tied by the leg by the horrible state of the
roads, and weather, and without any regular news from England. Nothing
but reports on the side of France which would encourage us to proceed;
and, on the sea-side, of heavy gales, and lost vessels. I am just now
driven in by a furious hailstorm, and yet the weather is mild, and has
been till this moment pleasant enough. We have two ships in the little
bay here; one full of hay, which has been four days nearly within
three hundred yards of the shore, and in hourly danger of drifting
on the beach—yet we have not been able, in spite of our distress, to
get out a truss; and the other a brig transport, empty, and driven in
here by stress of weather. A frigate was also off here all yesterday,
apparently labouring much, and fearful of the coast. We certainly have
undertaken a bold thing in wintering in such a place, but it was a
choice of difficulties.
If we had money we should do well, but that is as scarce as anything
else. Plenty of supplies would come in from the right from the French,
had we cash to give in return. As it is, in consequence of the little
ready money we gave at first, a great quantity of cattle, food, &c.,
has been obtained, but now we are reduced to Treasury Bills, and that
cannot last, and the loss is very great. Even the muleteers get a past
payment now in those bills, and the consequence is that a person may
buy them with dollars at the rate of 7_s._ 4_d._, and, I believe, 7_s._
6_d._ a dollar. The army is also six months, and the staff seven months
in arrear of their pay.
We have, however, I believe, plenty of bread and biscuit, and meal for
a month with the army and corn at Passages in abundance. The short
transport from thence is almost too much for us, and the supply is by
no means general to the animals, whilst long forage is quite a rarity.
The destruction in the oxen is frightful in the rear. Our great depôt
is as far back as Palencia, and even there, in store, the cattle die
very fast, and the moment they march they fall away to nothing and die
by fifties. Our Commissary-general almost despairs of getting more up,
although he has made depôts of bran and straw, &c., on the road, to try
and obviate the total want of food. It is now in contemplation to ship
cattle from St. Andero, where there is a store; but then we have rather
a scarcity of naval transports also. Cattle would come in as fast as we
wished from twenty leagues to our right, could we but pay for it. As it
is, I am almost inclined to think that we shall, as a choice of evils,
be obliged, in spite of the roads, to move towards our right in quest
of food.
Two of the villages in that direction have justly incurred Lord
Wellington’s displeasure by plundering and seizing our forage parties,
of which we have lately lost several. One or two were taken by the
peasants of those two villages, and Lord Wellington has issued a
proclamation addressed to them and that country, reminding them that
he told them to remain at home, and be quiet, and to take no part,
and that if they did so he would protect them; but that he would not
have this treachery in return. If they did not like this proposal,
well and good, then let them quit their _foyers_ and leave their
villages, and take the consequence, and he should be prepared to
meet them as enemies; but they must make this election. The curé
of one of these villages was carried off as a hostage for their
good behaviour in future. We have strong reports of commotions and
internal dissatisfactions in France, and that Bonaparte is reduced to
concentrate his army round Paris. If this be true Lord Wellington must
be half mad about the roads. I find he is gone out to-day to look about
him. Two nine-pounders have just drawn up opposite my windows with
eight horses each, and the men have left their guns under the charge of
the Provost guard. I suppose they are on the march. I must inquire what
this means.
_February 3rd._—The artillery is said to mean nothing; but still I
think if we get fine weather for a week we shall have a start. In
confirmation of what I have written above, as to the loss of cattle,
I will give you two instances: three hundred and sixty head of
convalescent bullocks, which had been left at Vittoria to get into
order, were marched for the army; sixty only have arrived thus far,
all the rest have been left at stations between, or been given to the
different alcaldes, and receipts taken for them—a new mode lately
adopted. Five hundred of another lot of fresh bullocks, collected at
Palencia, were marched all this way, three hundred only have reached
Vittoria, and all the bad road and scarcity of food is yet to come.
This is really quite alarming.
_February 3rd, later._—I find the guns mean nothing; they are only
going on to the front to replace two now there, which are to come
back to refit. Still, however, if we could but get fine weather, I
think we should make a stir. Bets were going on as to a peace, or our
being at Bayonne and across the Adour in six weeks; and symptoms of a
move shortly are perceptible. The rain, however, continues. Colonel
Bunbury made one attempt to go to the right of our army the day before
yesterday, but only got half way, and is unwell in consequence. He is
to leave this either in Lord Wellington’s carriage, or to go round by
water to Passages. The sea is, however, quiet, and now only torments
our anxious curiosity by throwing up parts of wrecks and bodies. A
ship-cable, with the G.R., was found at Bidart, and three men and a
woman. Some say that the latter had silk stockings on. One body cast up
here was half eaten, and I saw a backbone only yesterday. The bodies of
the mules float in and out every tide.
As a proof of the state of forage here, and of the manner in which we
are imposed upon, five shillings were yesterday demanded for a sack of
chopped furze from the surrounding hills, and thus sold in the market.
Straw fetches two shillings for a small handful, of which a horse would
eat two or three in a day.
I have just seen a Spanish Captain who was taken prisoner little more
than three months since. He has been to Maçon on the Saone since,
where the Allies now are, about six hundred miles from this, having
been first plundered of his great coat and pantaloons. He was about
thirty-five days getting there on foot all the way, staid there forty
days, and then was about thirty-six days more returning here, also on
foot, having been exchanged. He says the notion is that we have the
Duke d’Angoulême here, and that very many wish it to be so. This is
like my finding many persuaded that we had the Duke de Berri with our
army when I was a prisoner. I suspect, however, we shall in part verify
this notion now, as I just hear one of the best quarters in the town is
to be cleared immediately for an unknown great man, now at Passages,
and just arrived from England. At first they even talked of moving the
Adjutant-general, Pakenham, to make room for him. This mystery will,
however, soon be cleared up. Rain, which is never pleasant, was never
so disagreeable as now. The fate of France may depend upon it.
The owner of my house is a well-bred woman, who lives in a great house
opposite. She lives in one corner of it, whilst General Wimpfen and his
staff, and Colonel M——, his wife, and three children, occupy all the
best part. She has, she told me, thirteen houses round here, five are
burnt, and two coming down, and yet she seems resigned and satisfied
that we have really behaved very well; that it is the fate of war, and
owing to the ill fortune of having property in a frontier country near
armies, and is quite inevitable. She only exclaims, “_Oh la pauvre
France!_” This is a novel language to the French of late.
_4th, Friday._—Still rain, rain, rain, all night. All yesterday, all
the night before, and still continuing. Oh! that we had your frost
instead; all things would have been very different.
The great man just arrived, and now here, turns out to be the Duke
d’Angoulême, and Count Damas is come out with him, but till the plot
thickens the Duke is _incog._
Our pontoons from the Bidassoa are now passing over the St. Jean de
Luz bridge. This looks like something, and we have to-day at last a
dry day, or at least a half day, for I must not be too sure yet. The
wind is getting round to the north a little, or north-east, and if that
remains it will do, especially as it is full moon; though I have not
much more faith in the moon, in respect of weather than Lord Wellington
has, who says it is nonsense. In addition to all your news, we have
French news of a battle at St. Dizier, near Chalons, and that the
Allies have been beaten. It is to be feared that it is not all to go so
smoothly as hitherto, unless a rising takes place.
All odd strangers who come to head-quarters here have been long
called tigers. Of course we now have “The Royal Tiger.” This is a
head-quarters’ joke for you. We have had for some time here a Madame
de ——, the wife of the Commandant of ——, come to make arrangements
beforehand, and here she certainly has been making many little
arrangements not much to the advantage of her husband, and not quite
consistent with conjugal fidelity. When the Commandant arrived
yesterday at last, she immediately began to blame him for his
unnecessary delay, and insinuated that another lady was the cause. This
is very hard upon a poor old man, but I suppose the lady thought it
right to take the initiative.
The publication of the Leipsig letters, which George mentions, of
Murray’s, will be very curious, but I think it is not right to let
these be published. Similar letters were taken in Spain more than
once, and police reports. The old letters which were too late (those I
mean from you) were from the Secretary of State’s office, not from the
Judge-Advocate’s office. They were probably mislaid at the former.
_Sunday, Post-day._—A bright sun and a smiling sky, with a smooth bay
covered with ships, quite a Vernet. I have just returned from the
church service on the beach, in a square of about two thousand five
hundred guards, and all the staff here present. As I returned I picked
up your letter of the 26th, and papers at the post-office. I have just
got some business come in, for desertion has commenced again now that
we are quiet and idle. A corporal and twelve men all went off together
a few nights since, all foreigners, and I believe French. Our people at
home are very careless in selecting soldiers to enlist into our corps
from the prisons. What can be better for a Frenchman in a prison-ship
than to receive 4_l._, new clothes, arms, &c., and then to be sent into
his own country, and put in a situation to join his comrades, with
only the difficulty of watching a good occasion. In yesterday’s return,
however, nine men have deserted, mostly English. Your English news is
all good as far as it goes, and if this weather will but hold a little,
you will hear of more glory and more broken heads here. In addition to
the pontoons which have passed up, scaling-ladders have gone through
here. If we could but cross the mouth of the Adour below Bayonne,
and get at the citadel at once by scaling and storm, there would be
something like a blow, and the town would be at our mercy immediately.
We have some gentlemen here, but very few, who begin to find the work
too warm for them. I have been saved two cases of this sort, very
awkward ones, by resignations, and have been consulted on two others
by General Cole, very suspicious ones, but not so clear as the other
two who are let off thus, to save the reputation of the regiments. An
officer should think a little before he engages in service, such as we
have had here the last few years.
More business, so I must put an end to this quickly. I have not seen
the Royal Tiger, but am to dine at head-quarters to-day, and hope he
may be there. The French ladies are staunch Bonapartists. They say we
shall have another Quiberon business, and that the Allies are coming
into France the same old road as twenty years since, and will return by
it.
I have been so pressed to change my old mare, which was in high
condition, that, to oblige Major D—— of the Guards, I have done so,
and taken “Mother Goose” (a pet name of General Hulse’s formerly) in
exchange, and fifteen guineas to boot. Mother Goose is a very good
mare, but never would stand fire. She is not so large or showy as my
old lady, but I like her much. She was valued at eighty-five guineas,
and has always sold for that. I put mine at a hundred guineas. I gave
more—four hundred dollars; as dollars cannot be had under 7_s._, and
the exchange is still higher on the muleteer Treasury bills. These,
however, I should not think it right to deal in.
_Head-Quarters, St. Jean de Luz, Thursday, February 10th, 1814._—Thus
far the week has passed without my having commenced my usual Journal to
you; for I have had a return of business, and also several gentlemen to
swear, and certificates and affidavits to make out, to enable friends
to take out administration in England to deceased officers’ estates. We
have also again had two fine days, and I have been able to get a ride
or two in consequence. On Sunday, at head-quarters, I met the Royal
Tiger at dinner—the Duke d’Angoulême and Monsieur Damas.
Before dinner I got into conversation with the Duke, without knowing
who he was, for they were both dressed alike in a fancy uniform,
very like our navy Captain’s undress, a plain blue coat, with two
gold epaulettes. He seemed much pleased with his prospects, and very
sanguine as to the result. The day was fine; he was sure the weather
would last a month. I said that the natives told me we should have
rain, and no settled weather until March was half over. He was sure
I had been misinformed; the fact was, however, that it rained half
that very night and the whole of the next day. Every day he expected
to proceed to France, and saw all difficulties vanish. “_Les pauvres
conscripts de Bayonne fondaient comme la neige; ils étoient presque
tous à l’hôpital_,” and so on.
That we shall make a dash soon, unless peace prevents it, I fully
believe from all I see and hear, and an embargo which has been laid on
all small vessels in the river here confirms this. We have also to-day
an order for twelve days’ hay at Passages, for which we are to send to
the ships ourselves, as Government have just now sent us out a good
lot of English hay, and if we march it must be all left behind, for we
have no means of carrying it with us. At least the animals will thus
all start with a belly full, which is something, and to many a novelty.
I do not think much of the little Duke; his figure and manners are by
no means imposing, and his talents appear not very great. He seems
affable and good-tempered, and though not seemingly a being to make
a kingdom for himself, he may do very well to govern one when well
established. Lord Wellington was in his manner droll towards them. As
they went out, we drew up on each side, and Lord Wellington put them
first; they bowed and scraped right and left so oddly, and so actively,
that he followed with a face much nearer a grin than a smile.
They were at church on Sunday, but I cannot learn with any effect;
hitherto we cannot judge, for this small corner dare not speak
out their minds, if they were in his favour. We hear of a strong
disposition at Bordeaux and in Brittany. I have as yet seen only apathy
and indifference, but I still expect a burst if the war should last.
I must now go to Lord Wellington about a poor old Doctor, who has been
charged with having a soldier servant. I expect a jobation for what I
shall state in his favour, for this is a very heinous offence in the
eyes of Lord Wellington.
_Same day, later._—Lord Wellington, as I supposed, insisted on the
Doctor’s being tried, but was good-humoured, though just going out
with the hounds, when in general he does not like interruption. This
particular Doctor had a right to a servant of his own regiment, but
he had one of another. I suggested that he had never joined his own
regiment since he was appointed, and could not, therefore, have one
of that corps. “Then he should have gone without,” was the answer,
and as for the Doctor’s good character, that went for nothing. Lord
Wellington never attends to individual hardships, but to the general
good, and as many abuses go on at depôts in the rear, every time he
discovers an instance he is inexorable in trying to punish, especially
when he finds it out himself, as he did this in another trial of the
same poor Doctor, by some of the evidence. The Doctor, foolish man,
desired it might be put on the minutes that he would ask such a witness
no question, as he had been his servant at the time, and was so still.
I have just heard an anecdote which shows strongly the Spanish
character, and also why Lord Wellington likes Colonel Dickson as his
chief artillery officer. On the 9th of November last the order was
given for the troops to march to the attack at four the next morning.
This was when we were at Vera. Every one had known for weeks that
this was to take place the earliest moment it was possible; and that
the fall of Pamplona and better weather were the only reasons of the
army being in such a position as we then were, perched up on the
sides of all the mountains so late in the year, with the prospect of
snow daily. At nine that night General Frere, the Spanish General,
who is considered to be one of their best, sent word that the Spanish
army under his command was without any ammunition, and could not get
any up in time. At ten o’clock Dickson was sent for, just as he was
going to bed. Instead of saying nothing could be done, or making any
difficulties, he proposed giving the Spaniards immediately the reserve
ammunition of the nearest English division, and said that he would send
out orders instantly, and undertake to get the English reserve replaced
in time, and this was done.
Poor E—— got a very loud discourse all the way home from church
last Sunday. The oxen of the pontoon train were all dying, and in
cross roads were useless, for they could not move singly except
with difficulty, much less draw a pontoon of two tons weight. It
had been reported in consequence that three troops of artillery
must be dismounted to draw the pontoon. Lord Wellington was vexed
excessively. “Where are the pontoon horses?” “None were ever sent out
from England; never had anything but oxen, and five hundred have died
since we left Frenada.” This answer still did not satisfy him. He
must, notwithstanding, have known it from the returns which he sees,
but still he seemed, though he could not tell why, to think poor E——
blameable. The latter said that he had no orders to send to England for
horses, and no one seemed to think they would be necessary, and he had
never had them.
_Friday, 11th._—I went last night to our third ball, in hopes of seeing
the Duke d’Angoulême there, and to observe how he was received. He did
not attend. All our other great men were there—Lord Wellington and all
the French, as yet very few in numbers. The owner of General Cole’s
quarters near Ustaritz, I believe named Larrique, was there. He had
come over to pay his respects to the Bourbons. He was always royally
disposed, and had been once imprisoned for this inclination. I am told
several others have been to the Duke to pay their respects merely, but
this is all they dared do as yet. They assure him the landholders and
peasantry further on only wait our advance, and the absence of the
French army, to rise and declare for the Bourbons. If they do not take
this line soon, and that decidedly, peace may make it too late, and
frustrate all these petty plans of counter-revolution in the bud. The
Duke seems quite ignorant of the people here, and of the country, and
those Basques I have talked to do not seem to know much more of him.
The few squires left may, however, give the tone to the rest.
I hear that we have quite ruined Bayonne market by our higher prices,
&c., and things are not only dear there, but not to be had, for no
one will there give the price we do for such luxuries, as poultry,
vegetables, &c., certainly are; and therefore they are brought here.
_Saturday, 12th._—The news now is, that Soult and about three thousand
infantry, and one thousand eight hundred cavalry, are gone off to the
rear, and it seems to be believed; for it has come through so many
channels to us. Another report is, that seven of the thirty tyrants
(senators) have gone over to the Allies, to pay their respects to the
Bourbons; this is not in such credit as the other story. In short, we
have what the military men call “shaves” (I suppose barbers’ stories)
every day and every hour. The best fact I can tell you is, that we
have had three days’ fine weather now together, and this last is
absolutely warm, I only fear too warm to last; thermometer in my room,
window open, and no fire, 58° in the sun. I rode a league out and back
yesterday almost without a splash. The mule roads across the country,
though improved, are, however, still very bad; three more such days
will, nevertheless, do wonders, and about that time I hope we shall be
ready.
All the carpenters, &c., are ordered from the Guards to the front. The
Rocket Brigade also went up last night; and ships are ordered round
from Passages. Dr. Macgregor, who was there yesterday, tells me that he
thinks it will be three days before they will have procured ropes and
all they require with them. This smiling sun makes every one cheerful,
though it prognosticates many broken heads.
The only thing, it appears to me, the Guards look blue about, is the
prospect of an aquatic expedition. Our sick, though nothing compared to
last year, have increased this last month. To show you how much depends
on seasoning them, two regiments, the 84th, and, I think, the 62nd, who
came out two months since, and have scarcely had any work, but arrived
after all the bad quarters in the mountains, and have not marched
forty miles and been generally housed, are absolutely unfit for the
field. One has four hundred and more sick out of six hundred. They are
obliged, in consequence, to be sent in a body, as regiments, to Vera,
one of the hospital stations. They are, I believe, two battalions, and
mostly young lads or elderly men, neither of which class of soldiers
can stand this work at all. Some of our old regiments have scarcely
a man in the hospital, except the wounded, and it is astonishing how
well some of the Portuguese regiments stand it, who are more exposed
than our men. The last month’s rest, and the new clothes, which most
regiments have now received, will revive the army amazingly; some who
are still without their clothes are, to be sure, absolutely in rags, or
like the king of the beggars.
_Head-Quarters, St. Jean de Luz, Sunday the 13th, Post-day, 5
o’clock._—Our “shave” of to-day is a Congress. Yesterday the Allies
were at Paris. I am sorry to say the sea has risen, and the wind
changed, and the weather threatens again. All are hard at work,
however, at the bridges, &c. It will be a ticklish thing to cross at
the mouth of the Adour.
_Head-Quarters, St. Jean de Luz, February 15th, 1814._—The plot now
thickens a little. Lord Wellington was off at three in the morning
yesterday for Hasparren, for two or three days, to superintend a
movement which is to take place: first, on our right, to drive the
French divisions of General Foy and Harispe across the Gave d’Oleron,
and prevent their molesting our right flank, whilst the passage of the
Adour is attempted on the left. The accounts this morning are, that
the troops assembled for this purpose yesterday, but that no affair
has hitherto taken place. General Pakenham was yesterday at Passages
to see to the shipping there, and clear out the hospital; and to-day
he has gone over to the right, to report to Lord Wellington and to
assist there. All is in motion: two bridges are preparing, one, as
I supposed, below Bayonne, and another above; the former will be
accompanied by an aquatic expedition.
With regard to this grand bridge, a most provoking occurrence has taken
place. An embargo was laid on about twenty-four vessels in the St. Jean
de Luz river to form this bridge, and to assist in the conveyance of
troops, &c. Old Ocean, however, did not approve; and as he is not under
Lord Wellington’s orders, and seems, like the Spaniards, to like to
thwart Lord Wellington a little, he (Old Ocean) threw up the day before
yesterday such a mound of shingle at the mouth of the river, that he
has most effectually embargoed the whole shipping, and made a dry
bank, a hundred feet wide, quite firm across the entrance, which all
yesterday was used as a road backwards and forwards from Sibour to this
place. From the present state of the tides there was no prospect of an
opening in the natural way for a week and more, until the springs; so
to-day a fatigue party of the Guards are at work digging and shovelling.
In my early walk this morning I found them at it, with a young engineer
officer, doing it, it struck me, very ill. I could not help meddling;
however, I had no weight, until an old Frenchman came, sent by the
mayor, to whom I advised them to apply; and then, as the young engineer
did not understand French, I acted as interpreter. The old man’s plan
and mine agreed, and so I carried my point. It is hoped we shall be
able to dig a way through by this evening, and to-morrow to let the
shipping out. It has never happened before since we have been here,
though very often the river is nearly dry.
One brig of war has arrived and the _Gleaner_ ketch, and Lieutenant
Douglas is on shore here superintending the fastening together of a
quantity of masts, &c., to form a boom, I believe, across the Adour—I
suppose to prevent anything floating down from destroying the bridge.
I heard yesterday, what one can scarcely believe, that the naval
officer asked leave to survey the mouth of the Adour, but that Lord
Wellington told him to go to the engineers, and they would give him
plans and soundings, &c.: that he went to E—— accordingly, and found he
had none at all; and Toffini’s coast stops short at Passages!
It is surely very odd, now that we have been in front of Bayonne for
three months, that no plans should have been sent out, without being
asked for, from England. I since have heard from E—— that he did write,
and has nothing in consequence but a little printed plan of Bayonne,
and no soundings, &c. I trust still that Lord Wellington will poke out
his way across. Our outposts’ reports to-day are that the Cossacks are
close to Paris, and Fontainebleau pillaged by them. I am sorry for
that, as that palace escaped the Revolution almost entirely. The truth
of the whole story may well be questioned.
_February 16th._—No news from the right; no one returned yet; the
reports are, that the French do not stand, but retire before us. In the
mean time things are going on well here. The weather is fine again,
the sea quiet, the river has quite cleared his course, and to-day the
navigation is open. The fort at the mouth of the Adour sent a few shots
against the _Lyra_ brig when cruising yesterday to inspect; but no harm
done. Every one is busy.
Poor —— does not seem to draw well with Lord Wellington. The latter
received him so queerly at the last interview, that —— says he shall do
all he can to execute what he is ordered, and be quiet. Lord Wellington
never consulted him, and has never even told him exactly where the
grand bridge which he is preparing is to be; and the consequence is,
the width of the river has not been precisely ascertained at the place
intended, where the engineers have instruments which would do it in a
minute, if they were ordered. Without orders they cannot, as it would
require a guard of three hundred or four hundred men to go near enough,
and that can only be with orders. But then, were I ——, I should ask for
the guard and do it, propose it first, or try and get it quietly from
the Adjutant-general without troubling Lord Wellington, and let him
find the thing done. —— seems to be too much of the English official
school; has too much regard to forms and regular orders. All this
_entre nous_. Elphinstone of the Engineers tells me he wrote for a plan
of Bayonne four months since, and has only received a very miserable
one, of scarcely any use.
The grand bridge is to be formed of the largest vessels now in the
harbour—about fifty of them. Pontoons would never do. They are to
be about 25 feet or 27 feet apart, and cable bridges between to
communicate with planks, each vessel carrying its own materials to
plank, &c. This is a grand plan, but rather arduous. I hope it may
answer, as it will be an event in military matters, crossing a great
river at the mouth below the fortified town, and that in the hands of
the enemy on both sides of the river.
_February 17th, Thursday._—Still fine weather, and no one returned,
and no news from Lord Wellington. I had a report here through the
emigrés, and _son Altesse Royale_, as he is now called, that the
Allies are within a league of Paris. “_Quelle mauvaises nouvelles! ils
m’ont dit._” Their alarm at the reported Congress at Chatillon sur
Seine, and Lord Castlereagh, has to-day of course a little subsided in
consequence. A peace with Bonaparte would ruin them for ever. If Paris
now declares itself, on the other hand it will spread, and the whole
business, in my opinion, be at an end in their favour. If not, it is
clear that their party is very small, and their interests forgotten.
_The 18th, Friday._—Still Lord Wellington not returned; but we had
some news of what has been done on the right. The French retired
skirmishing, but would never stand to let us charge. They were obliged
to remain longer than they wished to cover some guns which they carried
off; and also, the evening before last, they intended to take up their
ground for the night in a position which Lord Wellington thought it
would suit him to drive them from. By doing this late in the day they
were obliged to resist more than they probably otherwise would, if
they had expected it, and been prepared for the retreat. We have taken
about ten or twelve officers prisoners, and about two hundred men. Some
say that we might have had as many thousands, could we have been two
hours sooner. These things are always, however, said. Supposing that
we had been two hours sooner, the French would have been just where
they were; and it is forgotten that if we had moved sooner, they might
probably just have done the same thing. We have ourselves sustained
some loss, and that in a greater proportion of officers than men. I
am told, about a hundred and twenty men. General Pringle is shot in
the breast,—an awkward place, but they hope not badly, considering the
situation. General Byng’s aide-de-camp, Captain Clitherow, is killed,
and, I believe, Lieutenant Moore, of the Artillery. Aides-de-camp
and Brigade-Majors have suffered much of late; Lord Wellington’s are
uncommonly fortunate. I have heard also that Lieutenant-colonel Bruce
is wounded, a Bevan (Major or Colonel in the Portuguese service),
and some subalterns of the two brigades of General Byng and General
Pringle, the only two engaged.
By the last accounts Lord Wellington’s head-quarters were at Garris,
near St. Palais, and the French are driven across the Bidouge, a
river that runs into the Adour below the Gaves, and near Grammont’s
place, Guiche, of which he is duke. The French have only picquets
on our side the first Gave—the Gave d’Oleron, when they are driven
across. I think Lord Wellington will return here to-morrow to inspect
the grand bridge and the operations on this side, which are the most
ticklish. Elphinstone would have his bridge ready to-morrow night if
the materials get round in time from Passages, and provided one vessel
is got out from our river here, for one could not be moved over the
bar yesterday, from its having the guns on board, which are to be
dropped into the Adour, to assist in moving the vessels of the bridge.
By taking out the guns this difficulty may be got over, but the wind
is not fair from Passages. This is the worst part of the business,
for though the elements alone may be to blame, still Lord Wellington,
if his plans are thwarted, will be in a rage with ——. He banishes the
terms difficulty, impossibility, and responsibility from his vocabulary.
The moment he has done on the right, he wants to be ready here, as he
knows that so long as he remains there, the attention of the French is
drawn that way, and the same when he shall return here. We have now
no troops here. The guards have moved into Bidart, and we have now
permanently occupied Biaritz in front of Bayonne; General Vandeleur
sleeps there, and all his horses are unsaddled. The light division
have crossed the Nive. The fifth moved a little more to their right,
to occupy part of the ground of the light near Arbonne and Arrauntz,
towards Ustaritz; and the third division, under General Picton, have
gone up to St. Jean Pied de Port, but hitherto without opposition.
The Adjutant-general, when he went himself over to the hospital
stations of Fontarabia and Passages, routed out about fourteen hundred
convalescents, and malingerers, and they passed through here for
their regiments yesterday, for every man is wanted now. Unluckily, no
reinforcements have arrived from England; why we cannot say, for the
wind is fair, and the papers say they sailed a month since, and the
regiments have had notice of their intended arrival. The artillery
also expect five hundred horses, which would now be an inestimable
treasure, as many are going and getting weak. There are also about six
thousand Portuguese ready to join in Portugal, but who remain for want
of transport, as I am told: this is unlucky, as they were well-seasoned
recruits.
It is curious that even latterly, ever since we left the mountains,
almost all our advanced troops—the advanced line—have been Portuguese;
they not only stop our deserters, but go off very much less themselves.
From the terrible loss of oxen, we are all now, officers and all in
this neighbourhood, living upon salt rations, sea-beef and pork.
Luckily for me, however, we can now buy a little fresh meat. I am very
much vexed with myself for not having desired you to send me out a good
map of France, for I have only the department on this side the Adour,
and the whole seat of the war is now France. I should like to have got
the abridged or reduced Casini, which is used here, and liked, a map
about five or six feet by four or five, and Stockdale’s vicinity of
Bayonne, taken from Casini’s large one. These two would have been a
treasure, now that we are likely to move; and I conclude Stockdale will
go on publishing some more of Casini to follow us up.
We have begun to establish a recruiting-party at head-quarters, to
select out of the French deserters good subjects for the _Chasseurs
Britanniques_, &c. I hope it will answer, but I have my doubts. In the
mean time, I shall have to play the part of a magistrate, and swear
them all in. The news from Bayonne to-day is, that a courier arrived
yesterday express from Paris in sixty hours; of course he brought
something very important. The story in Bayonne is, that the negotiation
and Congress is broken up already, and this is now considered most
excellent news here, excepting by a few soldiers of fortune, and real
lovers of their trade, who think it would flourish much better after a
peace with Bonaparte than with the Bourbons. What a contrast between
the _Moniteur_ a year and a half since about Moscow, &c., and the late
ones about the works round Paris, and the room left—eighteen inches—for
the _piétons_ only to pass, &c., and the immense zeal and activity:
_Dejà on voit les embrassures pour quatres canons_. You will have seen
all this, however, and have been as much amused, no doubt, as we have
been.
I have just seen Major D——, who is returned from the right. He says
that we have been well received in general, and found a tolerable
supply of everything in the new country we have been in. If the
inhabitants will but stay, they will find a good market for everything;
instead of losing the produce for nothing; and stragglers, single
plunderers, dare not commit depredations on the houses in that case.
The people here are in despair at the expected entrance of the
Spaniards. We have now shops in abundance, and a good market, and can,
with plenty of money, procure most things; and now we are on the point
of being off.
_18th February, later._—I have just been with Elphinstone, and seen all
his drawings and plans for the grand bridge. They seem very good, and
the whole will be ready by Sunday morning, provided the naval gentleman
can carry his vessels in; but he thinks that will not do on account of
the tides before Wednesday. Six or seven small boats are to be carried
from here on carriages; these are to be launched, and are to tow across
the first party on rafts, which are made by some platforms placed on
the pontoons. This first party I would rather not accompany. To show
you how little Lord Wellington listens to objections, and how he rather
likes to cut up the routine work, I may mention that Elphinstone told
him the quantity of plank necessary would take time, and make a delay.
“No,” says he, “there are all your platforms of your batteries which
have been sent out in case of a siege. Cut them all up.” “Then when we
proceed with the siege what is to be done?” quoth Elphinstone. “Oh,
work your guns in the sand until you can make new ones out of the
pine-wood near Bayonne.” So all the English battering platforms have
been cut up accordingly.
At Elphinstone’s I met the Admiral, who came round to-day to assist,
and some small vessels have arrived with him. We have now Sacoa choked
full, and quite a flotilla in the open bay, with a wind right on shore
into the bay. I only hope it will not take to blowing hard in this
direction whilst our operations are going on. The battering train and
siege apparatus have also arrived at Passages from St. Andero. This has
been done quite snug; even Elphinstone did not know of their coming
until here they were.
Letters have come in from the right; all has gone on well there. The
French are driven quite across the Gave de Mauleon or Soiron, as it
is called in my map, a little river which is the left branch of the
Gave d’Oleron, and runs into the Gave d’Oleron below Oleron town. The
Adjutant-general writes, that the French have given up all that at
present was wanted in that direction. Adieu!
_Saturday the 19th._—To-day we have a French bulletin sent in to us of
a victory over the forces of the Allies, the Russian army destroyed,
and the French in pursuit—baggage, cannon, all taken. This is awkward
when we expected daily to hear of the Allies in Paris, and it will
have a bad effect on the cause in France, even if it is only a slight
check to the allied armies. The French here have their proclamations
printed, and _fleurs-de-lis_ are being made. Lord Wellington says that
they must wait until he is more advanced before they begin to circulate
them. He is expected back to-day. The weather has been very cold
again, and sleet or snow has just begun to fall. I have also to-day to
acknowledge a letter from you of the 8th, and papers from the 2nd to
the 8th inclusive.
I am just interrupted by a noise at the Provost guard opposite, and
the arrival of about a hundred and eighty French prisoners escorted
by a party of the 57th regiment, who might with great advantage
change clothes with the French. The latter are in general very well
clothed, and very fine young men, a few older soldiers amongst them
in particular. The young conscripts look rather pale and sickly. Our
57th men are absolutely in rags and tatters, here and there five or
six inches of bare thigh or arm are visible through the patches; some
have had only linen pantaloons all winter through. They all get their
new clothing to-morrow at Sacoa; the whole regiment comes down here for
that purpose, and then nearly the whole will have had their clothing
this year, all but one or two regiments.
_Later, 4 o’clock._—Lord Wellington is just returned from the right,
and so eager is he when anything is in hand, that I saw him going round
by the Admiral’s and Colonel Elphinstone’s before he went home on
horseback, after a tolerably long ride too. The Admiral he carried off
with him.
_20th February, Post-day._—The first thing I saw this morning in my
walk on the wall was Lord Wellington looking at the sea at half-past
seven. The wind was strong, right into the bay, and not a ship could
stir. He soon saw the Admiral come out also to look, and carried him
off home. I saw Lord Wellington about some Courts-martial just now,
and expected to be rather snubbed; but he was in high good humour,
and I was, of course, as short as possible. The moment is, however,
ticklish. Had the gale this morning increased, none of the ships in
the bay, in my opinion, could have stood it. It was right into the bay
against them, and they were anchored within two hundred, three hundred,
or four hundred yards of the shore. The slip of an anchor or breaking
of a cable would have been destruction, and we have now a wreck on
each side of the bay, which is ominous and terrific to strangers and
new-comers.
_Later._—Lord Wellington is already beginning to provide against the
failure of his bridge plan from winds and tides, and I understand
will not wait above a day or two on this account. Arrangements are in
consequence being formed to make the main movement still by the right
altogether, and to come round on Bayonne in case the bridge scheme will
not very speedily answer.