Movements of the Army—-Narrow Escape of Wellington—Anecdote
of Wellington at Rodrigo—Novel Scaling Ladders—Sir Alexander
Dickson—Wellington’s Vanity—Operations resumed—Spanish Officers—The
Passage of the Adour—The Road to Bayonne—Death of Captain Pitts.
Head-quarters, St. Jean de Luz,
Tuesday, February 22, 1814.
MY DEAR M——,
As the movements going on give me now a little more leisure, and it
is impossible to say how soon my opportunities of writing may be
arrested by a march, I begin my weekly despatch early this week. Lord
Wellington, when he returned from driving the French across the Gave,
found his expedition here could not leave port owing to bad wind and
tide, though all was ready. He therefore instantly set about new
arrangements, so as to be independent in a great measure of the result
of this grand bridge.
All the divisions of the army consequently moved towards the right
yesterday, except the Guards and the rest of the first division, which
remain in our front backed by a corps of Spaniards at Guethary and
Bidart, in advance of St. Jean de Luz, through which place, however,
they did not march. To superintend this movement Lord Wellington was
off again yesterday for Garris, near to St. Palais, with most of the
head-quarters’ staff, Adjutant-general Pakenham remaining here on
account of a slight illness.
The last move left us in front of the Gave, the French still strong in
Sauveterre and on a ridge of hills and strong ground running between
the two Gaves d’Oleron and Pau. The plan is now, it is concluded, to
drive them across both Gaves, and then make good our way round to the
other side of the Adour and the citadel of Bayonne. In the meantime,
as the plan here is still expected to take effect to-morrow morning
early, we are all alive; the little bay full of shipping and small
ships of war, which cruise backward and forwards, or anchor there, with
carpenters, sappers, soldiers, &c., on board, and all the flotilla
ready in Sacoa, and the Admiral superintending.
Head-quarters are come home delighted with the country on the Gaves,
and with their reception. The people in many instances come in numbers
to meet our troops instead of offering resistance. The prisoners also
many of them say they are ready to serve _son Altesse Royale_, but this
is rather too soon to begin, it is thought, for this may be only to
escape and return to their old army.
One young man, who was of the country, ran into his father’s house
as they were marching by, and all the family were found around him.
He was separated and marched off; but the story has been told at
head-quarters, and General Pakenham has sent for the man back (who was
on his way to Passages), and means to send him home to his friends.
I was talking to General Pakenham yesterday about forming a French
royalist corps out of the prisoners and deserters. It must be done
very cautiously of course at first, but it would in my opinion have a
good effect and soon increase. At present the idea that all deserters
must be sent away from their own country to England deters many from
deserting, who would otherwise be willing. This object would also do
away with the disgraceful ideas naturally attached to desertion in a
soldier’s mind.
Reports say that Lord Wellington had a narrow escape with his staff,
whilst reconnoitring on the right in the late move. He is said to have
been going up a hill when a French cavalry regiment was coming up
on the other side. The engineer officer was going round and saw the
regiment; upon which he galloped back to give information, but before
he could reach Lord Wellington they were just close to the top of the
hill, and Colonel Gordon, who was in the advance, saw some of the
French videttes close. He gave the alarm, but they all had a gallop for
it, pursued by some of the dragoons.
Though the English horses were most of them well tired, they were soon
out of reach of the French, and all escaped. Lord Wellington relies
almost too confidently on the fleetness and excellence of his animals,
when we consider what the loss would be if he were caught; he is,
however, now rather more cautious.
A few days since I heard an anecdote about the siege of Rodrigo, which
shows the man. Scarcely any one knew what was to be done; the great
preparations were all made in Almeida, and most supposed, as I believe
the French did, that everything which arrived was for the purpose of
defence there, not of attack elsewhere. On a sudden the army was in
front of Rodrigo. A new advanced work was discovered, which had to
be taken before any progress could be made in the siege. To save men
and time, an instant attack was resolved upon. Scaling-ladders were
necessary; the engineers were applied to; they had none with them, for
they were quite ignorant of the plans—an inconvenience which has often
arisen in different departments from Lord Wellington’s great secrecy,
though the general result, assisted by his genius, has been so good.
The scaling could not take place without ladders; Lord Wellington was
informed of this. “Well,” says he, “you have brought up your ammunition
and stores, never mind the waggons, cut them all up directly, they
will make excellent ladders—there you see, each side piece is already
cut.” This was done, and by the help of these novel ladders, the work
was scaled forthwith.
At Badajoz, he found so little to be had in the regular way for a
siege, from want of transport, and so many difficulties in consequence
from the regular bred artillery generals, that he became principal
engineer himself, making use of Colonel Dickson, the acting man,
as his instrument. These sieges procured Dickson his majority and
lieutenant-colonelcy; and though only a Captain in the Royal Regiment
of Artillery, he now conducts the whole of that department here,
because he makes no difficulties.
In one instance Lord Wellington is not like Frederick the Great. He
is remarkably neat, and most particular in his dress, considering his
situation. He is well made, knows it, and is willing to set off to the
best what nature has bestowed. In short, like every great man present
or past, almost without exception, he is vain. He cuts the skirts of
his own coats shorter, to make them look smarter: and only a short time
since, on going to him on business, I found him discussing the cut of
his half-boots, and suggesting alterations to his servant. The vanity
of great men shows itself in different ways, but in my opinion always
exists in some shape or other.
_February 22nd, 5 o’clock._—The flotilla has just got out of Sacoa Bay
preparatory to the operations to-morrow. A beautiful sight! Six or
seven ships of war, and fifty other vessels—everyone alive! Forty form
the bridge. I hope it may succeed, but many doubt it.
P.S. Lord Wellington is moving on the Gaves with seven divisions. The
cable bridge is in the boats, and the engineers on board. The affair is
to begin by driving in the picquets, when five hundred men are then to
be sent over on the rafts, the guns of the French battery spiked, the
French corvette burnt, and then the bridge is to be thrown across!
_February 24th, 1814._—I rose at half-past four, to go over and see
the crossing of the Adour yesterday, and the formation of the bridge.
At daylight I discovered that the whole flotilla had been dispersed by
the gale of the night before, and no part was near the mouth of the
Adour. Several officers returned in consequence, declaring that nothing
could be done. Thinking otherwise myself, and that this movement would
somehow take place, being connected with Lord Wellington’s movement on
our right on the Gaves, I went on, and found all the Spaniards on the
road in front of Bayonne, but doing nothing. All was quiet for a very
long time. About twelve o’clock, however, they were ordered to move on
and make a feint, and an attack was made by our great guns and rockets
at the same time, on the French armed corvette and gun-boats, to
destroy the latter, and at the same time to draw off the attention of
the French from the mouth of the river below Anglet, where we intended
to cross on the rafts.
The Spaniards were not much opposed, and went on boldly enough, as far
as was intended, and had a few wounded. The sharp-shooting, however,
was very slack. The fifth division at the same time, made a show on
their side, between the Nive and the Adour, but not with any serious
intention. I then went into an empty house with Dr. Macgregor and some
others, to make a fire and get some breakfast, which they had brought
with them; and adding our several stocks together, we fared very well.
We then made our way through Anglet, and across the sands, and through
a pine-wood, to the river’s mouth. A brigade of Guards, another of the
King’s German Legion, the Light Battalion (most excellent men), and a
Rocket Brigade, were there all ready to pass, but from the immense
difficulties which had been met with in the transport of the boats and
pontoons over land, only two of the light companies were over about one
o’clock, when I arrived, and a temporary suspension of the passage of
men had been ordered by General Hope.
The order, however, had just come again to pass over as fast as
possible, and before I left the spot (about three o’clock) three rafts,
formed each upon three pontoons, and carrying each about fifty or
fifty-five men, were at work ferrying across on a cable, and the six
small boats were also plying, so that about five hundred men were then
nearly over, and they were going at the rate of two hundred, or two
hundred and fifty per hour. I left the rocket men, each with one rocket
ready in his hand, and three on his back in a case, with three poles on
his shoulder, just going to cross.
Elphinstone had been quite in despair; the pontoon car sunk so much
in the sand, that at last thirty horses would not move them, and for
the last five hundred yards they were conveyed on the shoulders of the
guardsmen; twenty-six men to a pontoon. At length all his difficulties
were thus overcome, and the non-arrival of the bridge, of which we
could see nothing, was not his fault, but that of the weather.
I helped the engineering again a little, by joining the party who were
endeavouring to find the best place to which to fix cables against
high-water—as I discovered the last tide-mark in the sands, and thus
found a landing-place and post, clearly above high-water mark; for the
springs were past, and of course every succeeding tide would rise to
a less height. We then proceeded along the river towards our battery
on the bank, which was firing at the corvette, &c. When we had gone a
little way through the pine-wood, we found all the roads almost stopped
by trees cut down by the French, and the road we took near the bank,
which was clear, carried us opposite a smaller French corvette and
three gun-boats, which had just placed themselves in the river. At
first we thought them a part of our intended bridge, but soon found it
otherwise, and that we should be fired at, for our small party on the
other side the river had not advanced, and all the opposite bank and
village, as well as the boats, were still in possession of the French.
We therefore turned, and at last made our way through to the battery.
There we learnt that the guns and rockets had sunk one gun-boat, and
frightened away the rest and the corvette, which had all been hauled up
close to the bridge under Bayonne, where we saw them.
I could not understand that the rockets had done more than cause some
alarm, though twelve had been fired at once at the shipping, and from
no great distance. Only one, or at most two, had fairly struck, and
nothing had been burnt. The heavy guns had struck the corvette, but
could not do much damage before she was off, and just at first the
corvette and battery on the French side seem to have had the best of
it. Count Damas, who was there with the Duke d’Angoulême, looking on,
told me that the artillery had knocked off the colours of the corvette
whilst he was there, and that one of the light Germans had jumped into
the water, had fetched out the colours, and had presented them to the
commanding artillery officer. Others say that these colours were on the
gun-boat. The French were so alarmed at the rockets, that the vessel,
when struck, was abandoned.
Close to our guns we found the other brigade of Guards, &c., making an
immense fire with the fir-trees, which had been cut down on all sides,
for the day, though fine, was very cold. Dr. Macgregor, one or two
others, as well as myself, went up a little sand-hill near, just to
look round, when a twenty-four pound shot from Bayonne came close to
us point blank. The horses turned right round, and the Doctor losing
his hat, I thought at first that he had been struck. Of course we soon
beat a retreat, and found we were in a spot where this was the usual
reception, and a position of which the French were jealous.
Just as I came away, a little before five, I saw a column of French,
apparently about seven hundred, going very quickly through the wood on
the opposite bank from the citadel towards our men, who had passed to
attack them. I knew that we had nearly a battalion across, about seven
hundred men, and did not feel much alarm with regard to the event. I
pitied the men more for the cold night they were likely to pass on the
bare sands, without baggage, &c. This morning I have heard an attack
was made just afterwards, but that some of the rocket skirmishers were
put in advance with the other skirmishers on our side, and the French
were so alarmed that, though much superior, they would not advance, and
our men beat them off.
The flotilla was this morning collected near the mouth of the Adour,
and, I suppose, before this the bridge is begun. At any rate we could
have passed across as many men as we wished before this. No one has
returned to-day to this moment, and as I had business, and one of my
horses was a little sore in the back, I staid at home. My grey pony
started before six yesterday morning, and I was not at home till past
seven at night, having ridden above thirty miles.
Some of the Spanish regiments were very fine men, and well equipped
in every respect, much better than some of our poor fellows; but the
officers looked very bad indeed; and when the men advanced, they were
led on by their officers with cloaks on, folded over their mouths,
looking as miserable as possible.
The men also, like the French, always march with their great coats on
over everything, so that our good new clothes were all concealed by
their own old threadbare overcoats. On the other hand, none of our
men had their coats on, cold as it was, and everyone was alive and in
activity. I stood next to Don Carlos d’Espagne, and heard him receive
his directions and information as to what parts we occupied and what
the French, &c. General Hope (though not well, and too soon, I believe)
came on to take the command, of which the division were very glad.
I fear the Spaniards, though better than they were, and though only the
best were in advance, will soon begin to do mischief. As I returned
here I saw all their stragglers about the houses near the road, and
telling every one that in Spain _Francesi roban e rompen todos todos_.
They soon soil our new clothing, and go about with dirty and scowling
discontented faces, like some of our good countrymen in Ireland. The
industry of the French on the sand-banks had been very great in the
cultivation of the vine. The south-east side of the very bank on which
the sea beat on the north-west, a pure white sand, was divided with
square reed enclosures, and covered with vines. The Anglet wine (which,
as a very light wine, is in repute), I believe, is there produced. Many
of the inhabitants at Anglet and the neighbourhood, remained, and, in
general, seemed glad the movement was over. One old woman, in a house
that was near the river’s mouth, said she was most happy to see us,
as she had been for the last two months in complete misery, not being
allowed to speak to any strangers by the French, nor even allowed to
go to Bayonne to buy a few sous-worth of snuff. I suppose they feared
the spread of information, for this was close to the spot intended for
our bridge, of which I understand, and have no doubt, they had a very
clear knowledge. Two persons of the better class have come in here by
sea from Bordeaux, round by Passages, to pay their respects, and give
information to _son Altesse Royale_. Colonel La Fitte told me that they
were as anxious there for Lord Wellington as the Jews were for the
Messiah, so sanguine are the emigrés.
_February 26th._—All accounts now agree that the French have from
ten thousand to above eleven thousand in the town and citadel, three
thousand in the latter, the rest in the town and lines. Another show
was made against our people the morning after they crossed, but no
attack. Considering that the French had eleven thousand men, that it
was eight or nine hours before we had above five or six hundred men
across, this passage of the Adour and our establishment on the right
bank is most disgraceful to their troops, or to their General, and
proportionally creditable to ours. In the evening of the 24th our
flotilla crossed the bar and got into the Adour over a most tremendous
surf. Several accidents ensued in consequence, and many lives were
lost; some say as many as forty in the whole, of all nations. I believe
about fifteen English sailors were lost. None but the English sailors
would have dared to enter at such a time. Five boats were upset, most
of them very near it, and one brig, with stores, aground, as well as
one small ship of war, a gun-vessel I believe. Some of the flotilla
never got in at all. The place fixed for the bridge was not so wide as
was expected and prepared for, so sufficient boats are ready, and last
night all but about three were moored in their berths ready, and, in my
opinion, the bridge would be passable to-day.
The loss of the French in the gun-boats and corvettes was greater than
we supposed, for the inhabitants inform us that a Captain of cannoniers
was killed, and several men, and the Captain of the corvette lost his
arm. The rockets also did mischief on shore: one man who is now in
here, had both legs carried off by a rocket. I have been since told,
the French lay down on their faces, and then ran away from them. An
order has been issued in Bayonne for all persons who have not and
cannot procure six months’ provisions to quit the town, and numbers
were coming this way along the road yesterday. I went out that way
on purpose to meet them, and talk to them. They all agreed in the
number of men, about eleven thousand, but said that a great part were
conscripts and weakly.
This I concluded to be the case, as all those unequal to an active
campaign would be naturally left in the walls for quiet garrison duty.
The alarm had been terrible in the town, where an attack was expected
two days since. Every householder was ordered to have an immense tub
filled with water, ready at his door, &c. Count Reille has gone to
the rear, some said ill, and Thouvenot commanded again, and most said
that Marshal Soult was gone to Paris, some to Mount Marsan, and that
Count Gazan commanded. A Frenchman, who came yesterday, told Monsieur
d’Arcangues, an inhabitant here, that he had just passed through La
Vendée, and that that country was in arms again; that he had himself
seen several armed parties, amounting some of them to seven or eight
hundred men. This will at least stop the conscription a little.
I communicated this good news to _son Altesse Royale_, and at the same
time made him a little _cadeau_, by begging that he would permit me to
send him King Joseph’s saddle-cloth, which I had picked up at Vittoria,
but had never used, as being rather too splendid (blue with a very
broad gold border). He was very civil, and in return lent me a paper
of the 11th, which he had just got out with his baggage from England,
a second edition of the _Courier_, containing in the corner a notice
of the arrival of the message through France from Lord Castlereagh,
a piece of news which alarmed him not a little, though our French
accounts still say that the negotiations are broken off, and the
Allies close to Paris.
General Harispe had raised about three thousand or three thousand
eight hundred of his countrymen, the Basques, a fine race of people,
but since our late move most of them have run home, and his corps,
the maire here told me yesterday, is reduced to about five hundred.
Our officers remain delighted with their reception on the right. They
all say that every one talks with horror of making war in an enemy’s
country; but they can declare from experience that they never wish
again to make war in a friendly one, if this is to be the manner of
making war in an enemy’s. Nothing has been done on the right of any
consequence yet, merely preparations in case this bridge had failed; if
so, I think we should now have Lord Wellington back here directly from
Garris, where he has been, and the move will at last take place.
I have just got my mules back from Passages, with six days’ hay, and
am now ready, though my Guardsman tailor has carried half my new
clothes with him across the Adour, and I never expect to see them
more, and have a Frenchman at work. Considering your lost box and all
contingencies, my last suit will probably stand me in about 35_l._
sterling!
The ride along the high road to Bayonne yesterday was interesting. The
refugees from the town, several of them very pretty Basques, were all
coming this way, laden with the little baggage they could carry off;
our artillery all moving up the contrary way; as well as the Spanish
troops; and hundreds of Basques, men and women, with great loads on
their heads (like our Welsh fruit-women going to Covent-Garden), only
their baskets were full of bread, biscuits, &c., and all in requisition
for the Spaniards. The bât animals and baggage parties of the Spaniards
are not a little amusing, and their led chargers with their tails
buckled up, and in swaddling clothes, with dirty magnificent housings,
dancing about half-starved, with their heads in the air. Every fifty
yards a dead bullock or horse, but chiefly the former, and every two
hundred, an ox dying, and a Spanish muleteer or straggler waiting until
the bullock driver abandoned him, to turn him up, and cut his heart
out, before he was dead, but when in a state too weak to resist. The
heart alone seemed to be worth the trouble, as nothing else could be
cut off from the bones, and bone and all did not pay the cutting up and
carriage.
The destruction and present price of cattle are tremendous, and I hear
we have been obliged to give the Spaniards some of our best Irish
cattle, as we had no other at hand. The only meat they seemed to have
with them was a number of ox cars with sides of Spanish bacon; this,
and sardines, seemed to form their supply. The men, however, are very
fine men, and in my opinion, were they well commanded, would make
excellent troops. Nevertheless, I was by no means sorry to find that
we had still an English brigade of about twelve or fifteen hundred men
(Lord Aylmer’s) between us and the eleven thousand French at Bayonne,
for I am sure five thousand French would force their way through the
fifteen thousand Spaniards if they chose to try, though we should in
the end prevent their return. At any rate we should have early notice,
and alarm from the runaways. The French beat our men at that, for we
cannot catch them, and the Spaniards would not be easily caught by the
French.
We had a most anxious scene here two nights since. Just as our vessels
got into the Adour, a suttling brig, Dutch-built, and very strong, to
save pilotage fees, tried to get into this river without the pilot
boats. The boats towing missed the mouth, were both swamped, and the
men in most imminent danger, as well as the vessel, which was driven
in without guidance, aground for an hour, but saved, and at last all
lives were saved, or at least all but one. When the boat was filled,
another wave drove it against the ship, and three caught hold of the
ship-chains and got in; the fourth was knocked about in the water
between the ship, the boat, and the wall, but at last got his chin on
the sinking boat, came up the harbour so, was hauled in and saved. In
my morning walk on the sea wall, I found another ship on shore, a large
brig with a valuable cargo, a private speculation. This will be the
third wreck, but considering how many vessels have been here, and how
they have been all exposed, and half of them absolutely at the mercy of
any north or north-west squalls, we have been most fortunate.
_Later._—In my ride to-day I met about thirty or forty wounded men of
the Buffs and 39th, second division; but this is the consequence of
the last move, I believe, as they told me they were wounded at or near
Cambo. We have reports of an affair, but here nothing is yet known. We
are becoming, instead of being like head-quarters, the centre of all
good information, a mere hospital station in the rear, and famous as
usual for ill-founded reports, which the medical men probably invent
from _ennui_ on these occasions. A large brig has arrived from Bordeaux
with wine, but, in my opinion, almost too late for the speculation.
_Sunday, 27th February, Post-day._—In my walk this morning I saw
another boat swamped, trying to get out of the river over the bar. It
was actually worked by the surf into this position, with the stern
stuck into the sand of the bar, and fairly went over, with the five
men. For some time all five were visible, two swimming, and three
clinging to the keel of the wreck, which was bottom uppermost. Another
boat, which had intended to follow this one out, was fortunately close
at hand, just out of the reach of the surf, and by this means the
two swimmers were saved by giving them a rope’s end, and also one of
the three from the wreck, as it floated inwards. There was a struggle
between the three, when a wave came, and two appeared no more. The
relations of the two men witnessed their loss, as well as myself, for
we were standing on the edge of the wall within ten yards of the men,
but unable to help them. The distress you may conceive. We become in
some degree hardened by seeing death so continually, and in so many
forms, as we do here.
I have also this morning met with five English seamen, part of the
crew of one of our provision ships, which were lost some months since
on this coast. The master and four men, being from St. Andero, and the
French having heard of the fever there at that time, they were put
under quarantine on the coast, about forty miles on the other side of
Bayonne. Afterwards they escaped, and lived among the inhabitants, who,
they say, treated them well, as the master had money. At last, hearing
from the French that we had crossed the Adour, they made through the
woods this way, and fell in with our cavalry about three leagues on
the other side of Bayonne, General Vandeleur being on that side of the
Adour, with two regiments. They mention that they saw on the road going
to Dax a number of the wounded French from Bayonne, and also troops
retiring that way, they were told, to the amount of fifteen thousand,
but the number must have been considerably exaggerated.
The servant of Captain Pitts, of the Engineers, came in yesterday with
an account of his master’s death. Captain Pitts was one of General
Cole’s staff, and a most spirited, zealous, skilful, and promising
young man. He was killed on the right a few days since, when our
men had driven the French over the Gave d’Oleron. He went down to
reconnoitre, and take a sketch of the banks, and make observations
with a view to the formation of a bridge. His servant says that he had
finished, and was looking round just before he came off, when a ball
struck him on the head. General Cole’s staff have been very unfortunate
this last year, and indeed the loss of officers in his whole division
has been very considerable. I used to think that it sometimes affected
his spirits, though it never induced him to endeavour to diminish it,
for he always was and would be foremost in danger.
Count Damas has just informed me, that Lord Wellington has now crossed
both the Gaves, and is near Orthes; but we have no authentic news from
him. All accounts agree that General Picton was wounded in the affair
on crossing the Gave; but, it is said, not badly.
I picked up this morning a Spanish paper, and on making it out,
found that it was a letter from a Spanish officer in camp, near
Bayonne, telling some friend in the rear that Murillo and Mina had
beat the French across the Gave, and were in pursuit along with two
English divisions, having taken forty guns, &c., and adding that the
inhabitants were _muy malos_, but that we treated them as well as
Spaniards, and that they, the Spaniards, were ordered to do the same,
but that we should see, &c.
_Head-Quarters, St. Jean de Luz, February 28th, 1814._—Lieut.-Colonel
C—— has now returned here, and we have at length some authentic
accounts of what has passed. Lord Wellington was at Orthes, where
he left him, intending to stay there a short time to arrange
communications with General Hope’s column, &c. Our men forded the Gave
de Pau, and drove the enemy from Orthes. As they made some stand in
that town, it was a little _rompé’d_, as we call it. General Picton
was not wounded, and our loss has been inconsiderable upon the whole.
Colonel C—— returned by my old road through Peyrehorade, Ramons, and
across the Adour, at Port de Lanne, and so to Bayonne, and then across
the new bridge here. He found the first division driving the French
from the heights above the citadel of Bayonne, close into the town last
night. This was done, but with some loss and much firing. Those hills
are important, for in some measure they command the citadel. To-morrow
we march to join head-quarters. I believe we shall not pass the new
bridge, as a Spanish army crosses that way, and will occupy it all day,
and the road also; in addition to which, we have hitherto only cavalry
patroles along that road, and the French have halted a force at Dax,
or Acts, or Ax (in the different maps). I understand that we are to
go by Ustaritz, Hasparren, Garris, Sauveterre, and Orthes. This is a
roundabout bad road, but will be a new country to me. The weather most
luckily continues fine hitherto.
Our accounts from the interior are, that Toulouse and Bordeaux are
both ready to hoist the white flag, and only wait for our sanction and
declaration. This point of etiquette may spoil all. I think we should
declare our readiness to support them the moment they declare publicly
their readiness to take that part. This is a critical moment. Many are
alarmed at Schwartzenburg’s not having made more progress; he seems
to have hung back, for his army was stronger than Blucher’s, and was
forwarded six weeks since, and yet we only hear of Blucher being near
Paris. I must now prepare to “_romper de march_” as Jack Portugoose
calls it. So adieu.