On the 22nd of June, we pursued our journey on the road by which the
fragments of Jourdan's army had retreated, and, passing through
Salvatierra and other towns, we arrived before Pampeluna, early in
July. Soon after this we entered the valley of Bastan, situated on the
boundaries of the Lower Pyrenees.
While we were advancing towards the Pyrenees, a most tremendous storm
burst upon the column, as it was marching over the crest of a lofty
ridge. The thunder rolled in fearful peals, and the forked lightning,
attracted by the polished fire-arms and bayonet points, flashed about
our heads in an awful manner, threatening destruction to the troops.
Lieut. Masterman of the 34th was struck by the electric fluid, with
such fatal violence that his death was instantaneous; his features
scorched and blackened, and his body burnt almost to a cinder,
presented a frightful spectacle as he lay extended on the road.
Here commenced that system of manoeuvring on the enemy's flanks, by
which, day after day, we forced him to retire from the commanding
ground where he had been posted. Instead of running directly into the
lion's mouth, we paid our respects in a more cautious manner. The
light troops were dispatched, and, taking a widely extended circuit
right and left, closed in upon the wings of the adverse party,
threatening their communication with the rear. The French, instead of
making any resistance in these wild and thickly wooded glens, adopted
a more prudent line of conduct, and, not having any particular
appetite for cold steel, scampered off to the next range of heights at
the moment when we expected to have had a brush, leaving us, by way of
a legacy, their half extinguished fires, their broken huts, and all
the rubbish of a deserted camp.
Agreeable to this novel mode of tactics, which was the standing, or
rather the chasing, order of the day, our divisions proceeded onward,
the advanced guard of each leading into a difficult country, the roads
winding through vast chasms and narrow defiles, by which the lower
branches of the Pyrenean chain are intersected.
As we approached the more lofty range, we passed through Lanz,
Erruita, Elisonda, and other clean and well inhabited places, our
route still penetrating through deep ravines, and bending with the
sinuous current of the Upper Bidassoa river, by which the verdant
fields and pasture lands are fertilized.
The whole extent of the vale of Bastan presents, on every side, the
most beautiful scenery that can be imagined. The green and richly
cultivated meadows, as contrasted with the naked and inaccessible
heights by which they are surrounded, produce an effect that renders
the appearance of the landscape at once impressive and delightful. The
lover of nature in its varied and romantic forms might here enjoy a
prospect, of which it would be impossible by words to convey even a
limited idea.
On the 8th of July, 1813, the 1st Brigade of the 2nd Division, marched
into Elisonda, and, proceeding forward for about a league, halted on
the brow of an elevated ridge, from the summit of which the ground
descended in a slope, thinly covered with woods, to the extremity of
our position.
The 71st and 92nd were encamped on the main passes of the mountain, to
the left of the Bayonne road; and the 50th was bivouacked among some
trees, about a mile to the right of the corps. The enemy at this
period having been driven from all the roads leading across the
Pyrenees, came to a stand on a range of strong hills, commanding the
principal approaches into France.
Marshal Soult, their general in chief, disappointed and mortified at
thus being defeated and expelled from the Peninsula, determined to
make one last and desperate effort to regain a footing in that
country; he therefore made preparations for a grand attack upon our
lines, and put his threat in execution on the 25th of the month. The
heights, in every direction, were covered by the French encampments,
in which we could discern large bodies of their troops assembling.
About this time, while we were in the enjoyment of our bivouac and the
invigorating influence of the mountain air, an amusing scene took
place in the lines of the 50th. In the middle of one of the dark
nights, during our station on the hill, a dreadful storm came on,
upsetting huts, wigwams, and all the paraphernalia of our camp. During
the commotion, the mules and other baggage animals, terrified by the
howling of the wind, broke loose from their moorings, took flight in
every direction, and getting entangled among the tent cords they cast
us all adrift. Bewildered amidst the gloom, and dreaming of war's
alarms, it seemed as though the French were in among us, or that a
caravan of wild beasts was set at liberty. Such bellowing, screams and
shouting from right to left, at once resounded throughout the hill,
that the storm was quiet in comparison. Drums and bugles giving the
alarm, accompanied by the braying of a hundred jack-asses, with the
clamorous tongues of men, women and dogs, combined to produce an
opera, or rather, a tragi-comedy, of so ludicrous a nature as was
never witnessed on the Pyrenees before.--In a state of demi-nudity,
(finding that no tangible enemy was in the field,) each returned to
the wreck of his shattered dormitory, where, endeavouring to crouch
beneath the well-drenched canvass, or the more wretched shelter of the
trees, we lay in torpid misery, waiting patiently the return of day.
The morning of the 25th of July was ushered in by a bright sun, and
other favourable appearances, denoting the continuance of fine
weather. About noon intelligence came that the enemy was advancing in
strong force upon the pickets; in a few minutes the whole of our line
was formed, and the 50th, 71st and 92nd drew up on the highest part of
the ridge.--From thence were perceived large bodies, covered by a host
of light troops, rapidly driving in our outposts. The pickets,
together with the 34th regiment, under the command of Colonel Fenwick,
of that corps, immediately occupied some elevated rocks, on the right
of our position. Soult, observing with his experienced eye that this
important post was not sufficiently strengthened, sent a number of his
men to dislodge our soldiers from the spot.--After a sharp and
sanguinary contest, (Colonel Fenwick being severely wounded,) our
troops descended from the hill, and fell back with considerable loss
upon the brigade. By this time the French in solid masses were gaining
fast the steep sides of the mountain, preceded by a swarm of riflemen,
clambering the ascent like wild cats, and rushing on with incredible
gallantry towards the summit, in order to gain a lodgment there.
Having accomplished this, and the whole extent of our line being under
the range of fire, we were exposed to a most destructive shower; the
balls whistling past our ears, like hail stones driven in a storm,
tumbled our men in every direction. Resistance now was unavailing
against such odds, and, although an incessant peal of musketry was
opened on the enemy, our situation was no longer tenable, and we
retired upon the next height, leaving many killed and wounded on the
ground.[29]
[29] Colonel Fenwick was, on his return to England,
appointed Governor of Pendennis Castle, where he died a few
years since from the consequences of his wound.
Our right wing suffered greatly on this occasion, most of the
grenadiers were cut off, and their leader, Captain William Ambrose,
was mortally wounded in the groin; among the slain was likewise
Lieutenant William Deighton, of the same company, a native of
Cumberland, who so gallantly defended his post at the gates of Bejar,
and whose conduct at all times was that of a cool and intrepid
soldier.
Ensigns Williams and White were also killed--the former carried the
King's Colours, which falling with him, another officer, who observed
the circumstance, conveyed them to a place of safety; Williams was a
young officer who volunteered with men from the Warwickshire militia,
and had scarcely recovered from a wound received at Vittoria--White
had been for many years our Quarter Master Sergeant, and in
consequence of his merit, he had lately been promoted in the regiment;
he was a man advanced in life, and an excellent worthy character,
esteemed by us all.
The conduct of Lieutenant Charles Brown of the light company was
conspicuous; seeing the Frenchmen pressing closely in, he was
determined to lend a hand in giving them a check, in a manner which he
could not accomplish with the feeble weapon which he wielded; he
therefore seized a musket, (plenty of which were scattered about), and
extending himself upon a bank of earth, let fly with such deliberate
aim, that many of the Frenchmen were effectually stopped in their
career. Brown was an excellent shot, and enjoyed the thing amazingly,
appearing quite in his element, going about his work as methodically
as if he were shooting partridges or wild ducks, shewing a degree of
skill worthy of the most practised amateur.
This was the only instance of the kind that ever came within my
observation, and can be justified only by the strong desire a
sportsman, (for he was a zealous son of Nimrod), had to indulge his
ruling passion; for officers, in general, have too much to attend to,
while in action, and therefore could not, were they so inclined,
indulge their fancy in that way.
The Lieutenant joined us from the East Middlesex militia, from which
he brought a number of volunteers. He was an active good-looking
fellow, and a most agreeable companion. He was afterwards severely
wounded, and retired on half-pay to enjoy a pension which he very
deservedly obtained. Having once more to abandon our position, the
50th and 39th fell back upon that on which the 92nd was drawn up.
O'Callaghan, amidst the din of arms, calling to his soldiers with the
tones of a Stentor, "steady 39th ordinary time!" these corps actually
retired with the most deliberate pace, as if upon parade.
The Highlanders, under Cameron, stood firm, and maintained their post
with determined bravery until their ammunition was expended, when,
borne down by legions, the remnant of these devoted Northerns withdrew
to the contiguous hill.--Their Colonel, having had two horses shot
under him, and being twice severely wounded, was forced to quit the
field.[30] Captain Bevan, of the 92nd Grenadiers, was wounded at the
same time, as well as many other officers of that corps.
[30] Colonel Cameron commanded the 92nd, throughout the
whole Peninsular war, with honor to himself and to his
regiment. He fell nobly, at Quatre Bras, in the centre of a
square which was formed to repel a strong body of French
cavalry.
When the 50th was again formed on the hill to which they had retired,
they were supported by the 39th, with the Hon. Colonel O'Callaghan at
their head. Both these corps poured in a tremendous volley from right
and left, while O'Callaghan, a stern Hibernian, by his own example,
stimulated his men to personal acts of valour.
The enemy, meanwhile, nothing daunted by this destructive fire, pushed
forward with renewed exertion, urged on by the spirited exhortations
and conduct of their officers. The latter with signal courage took the
lead, and waved caps or cloaks with one hand, while with the other
they brandished their sabres in the air, shouting out--"Vive
L'Empereur! en avant! mes enfans!" Thus gallantly headed and
additionally animated, drums beating and trumpets sounding, the
columns rushed on with wild and desperate fury.
While the 50th was acting in support of the 92nd, Colonel Charles Hill
of the former was struck in the groin by a spent ball; and had
scarcely recovered from the shock, when another hit him on the
forehead, which caused him at once to fall, to all appearance mortally
wounded, and with deep concern his soldiers beheld him carried off the
field; the command devolving on Major Thomas Dundass Campbell.
The increasing masses of the enemy bore down all before them; and the
50th and 92nd, the latter then commanded by Major Mitchell, retiring
from hill to hill, defending with obstinate resistance every inch of
ground, halted about five o'clock in the evening on the brow of a
lofty and precipitous rock, the highest point of the lower Pyrenees,
and to the left of the pass of Maya. The 71st, whose encampment we had
crossed, suffered considerably while covering this movement, and was
at length compelled to join the rest of the Brigade.
Elated by the issue of their formidable attacks, our adversaries
persevered in the arduous struggle, to gain the passes, and, although
at the expense of considerable numbers, still kept possession of every
piece of ground by which those passes were commanded. Their riflemen,
with unparalleled boldness ferreting their way within less than
pistol shot of where we stood, by a rambling fire did very great
execution throughout our already diminished ranks. With such precision
did those experienced artists do their duty that very many of our
companions were killed or wounded on this height. A party of the
officers of the 50th, who were collected in a knot, discussing the
affairs of the eventful day, were quickly seen by those marksmen, who,
from behind the rocks, dispatched with deadly aim a few rifle
missiles, each with its billet; and the balls were so faithful to
their errand that the congress was soon dissolved, some of the members
being sent to "that bourne from which no traveller returns," and the
remainder wounded. Among those who fell on this occasion, was
Lieutenant Hugh Birchall of the 4th battalion company, which he had
commanded for some time. Having fallen ill, he was in his bed at
Elisonda, when the battle commenced, and hearing the noise of
musketry, he thought that something was going forward in the lines, in
which he ought to bear a part. With a mind endued with strength
superior to that of his weakly frame, he arose from the couch of
sickness, and calling all the vigour that he could muster to his aid,
tottered with feeble pace to the field of action, arriving at a late
hour upon the hill. Exhausted, pale, and like one risen from the dead,
he resumed his former place, and scarcely had he joined the group
assembled in the front, when, by a fatal bullet, this spirited young
man was numbered with the slain.
In crossing the place where the 71st had been encamped, a party of the
enemy pitched a tent belonging to that corps, and, forming in a ring
about this trophy, made the hills echo with their shouts of triumph.
The 82nd and other regiments coming up at that period soon obliged
them to change the notes of their song, and put an effectual damper on
their pastime. The Brigade of General Barnes and some German troops,
arriving opportunely to support the 82nd, made a desperate charge upon
them, and following up this bold attack drove them completely across
the pass, and back to the ground where they had been posted.--No
further efforts were made on their part to renew the contest.--Had
there been sufficient time the 7th division would have totally
expelled them from the mountains, but daylight failing brought to a
conclusion one of the most sanguinary and hard fought battles recorded
in the annals of the Peninsular war.
The 50th lost a considerable number of men in this action; and the
following officers were among the killed and wounded: _killed_--Captain
Wm. Ambrose, Lieutenant W. Deighton, Grenadiers, Ensign Williams,
Ensign White: _wounded_--Lieutenant Colonel C. Hill,[31] Captain
Charles Grant, Light Company; Roger North, Lieutenants McDonald,
Patterson, Nowlan and Jones; Ensigns Collins and Bateman.
[31] It was at first supposed that Colonel Hill was killed,
and he was returned on that list, but after a most singular
recovery, he was able to join the regiment previous to their
embarkation for England. Captain Grant had his leg
amputated, but continued in full pay. Lieutenant McDonald
was afterwards killed at Aire, in France.
In consequence of the right of the line at Roncesvalles having been
carried by a superior force, and also by reason of the loss sustained,
the 2nd and 7th divisions, cooperating with the rest of the army,
retired on the night of the 25th, and morning of the 26th of July, and
after passing along the road that leads through the Valley of Bastan,
they formed on the hills in front of Erruita. Here the British made a
determined stand, beat the enemy back, and followed up the blow with
so much vigour that he was completely routed, driven through all the
passes, and forced once more to take refuge in his own country.