VITTORIA.
General Clausel fell back as Wellington advanced to Burgos, and the
British laid siege to the castle of that place. Like all Wellington's
sieges this was commenced with a wholly insufficient train of
artillery, and without the time necessary to carry out regular siege
operations. A considerable portion of the army were posted so as to
watch Clausel. The place was badly fortified, but the French under
Governor Dubreton defended themselves with immense skill and courage,
the English assaults were repulsed, successful sorties were made by
the garrison, and at last, after the failure of the fourth assault,
the siege was given up, and the allied armies turned their faces once
more towards Portugal.
It was time; the operations in the south upon which Wellington had
relied to keep at least a portion of the French forces engaged, had
failed signally, and the French generals were bringing up their
troops from all parts of Spain, and General Souham, having under him
Generals Clausel, Maucune, and Foy, with a force far superior to
that of the British, advanced to give battle. Then Wellington, whose
Anglo-Portuguese troops were much weakened by sickness, fell back
rapidly, sending orders to General Hill, who commanded the troops left
behind in Madrid, to evacuate that city, and to fall back and unite
with him on the Tormes.
It was only by some masterly maneuvering and some stiff fighting at
Venta de Pozo, on the Carrion, and on the Huebra, that Wellington drew
off his army to Ciudad Rodrigo.
During the retreat the British suffered very severely, and the
discipline of the army became greatly impaired, so much so that Lord
Wellington issued a general order rebuking the army, saying that
"discipline had deteriorated during the campaign in a greater degree
than he had ever witnessed or read of in any army, and this without
any unusual privation or hardship, or any long marches."
The number of stragglers may be imagined by the fact that the loss of
the allied army was upwards of nine thousand, of whom not more than
two thousand were killed and wounded at Burgos, and in the combats
during the retreat. This number includes the Spanish as well as the
Anglo-Portuguese loss.
It was the beginning of December when the allied army reached their
winter quarters around Ciudad Rodrigo. It was fortunate that the
season of the year, and the necessity which the French had to refill
their magazines, and collect food, gave breathing time and rest to
the British. Although strengthened by his junction with Hill, and by
the arrival of reinforcements from the coast, Wellington was not in a
position to have made a stand against such a force as the French could
have brought against him.
Tom and Peter Scudamore had rejoined the army at the hottest part
of the siege of Burgos, and had taken up their work at once. Lord
Wellington heard from Tom a brief account of what had taken place,
and said a few kind words expressive of his pleasure at their both
having escaped from so great a peril, and, grave and preoccupied as
he was with the position of his army, he yet laughed at the account
of the scare Sam had given the guerillas. Among their friends nothing
was talked of for a day or two but their adventure. The times were
stirring, however, and one event rapidly drove out another. Sam
became a greater favorite than ever among the officers of the staff,
while the orderlies were never tired of hearing how he pretty nearly
frightened a band of guerillas to death by pretending to be the evil
one in person.
The next four months were passed in preparations for the grand attack
with which Wellington confidently hoped to drive the French out of
Spain. The news of the defeat of Napoleon in Russia had cheered the
hearts of the enemies of France, and excited them to make a great
effort to strike a decisive blow. The French army was weakened by the
withdrawal of several corps to strengthen the armies which Napoleon
was raising for his campaign in Germany, and British gold had been so
freely spent, that the Portuguese army was now in a really efficient
state; a portion of the Spanish army had been handed over to
Wellington, and were now in a far more trustworthy condition than
they had been heretofore, while the whole of the north of Spain was
in a state of insurrection, which the French, in spite of all their
efforts, were unable to repress.
The invasion was delayed until the end of May, in order that the crops
might be in a fit state for the subsistence of the cavalry and baggage
animals; but in the last week in that month all was ready, and, in
several columns, the allied army poured into Spain nearly a hundred
thousand strong. The French, ignorant alike of Wellington's intentions
and preparations, were in no position to stem effectually this mighty
wave of war, and were driven headlong before it, with many fierce
skirmishes, until their scattered forces were, for the most part,
united on the Ebro.
Here Joseph occupied a strong position, which he thought to hold until
the whole of his troops could come up; but Wellington made a detour,
swept round his right, and the French fell back in haste, and took
up their position in the basin of Vittoria, where all the stores and
baggage which had been carried off as the army retreated from Madrid,
Valladolid, Burgos, and other towns, were collected. At Vittoria were
gathered the Court, and an enormous mass of fugitives, as all the
Spaniards who had adhered to the cause of Joseph had, with their
wives and families, accompanied the French in their retreat. Hence
the accumulation of baggage animals, and carts, of stores of all
descriptions, of magazines, of food and artillery, of helpless,
frightened people, was enormous, and, for the retreat of the army in
case of defeat, there was but one good road, already encumbered with
baggage and fugitives!
This terrible accumulation arose partly from the fault of Joseph, who
was wholly unequal to the supreme command in an emergency like the
present. Confused and bewildered by the urgency of the danger, he had
hesitated, wavered, and lost precious time. By resistance at any of
the rivers, which Wellington had passed unopposed, he might easily
have gained a few days, and thus have allowed time for the great mass
of fugitives to reach the French frontier, and for Foy and Clausel,
each of whom were within a day's march upon the day of the battle, to
have arrived with a reinforcement of 20,000 good fighting men. Instead
of this, he had suffered himself to be outflanked day after day, and
his army forced into retreat, without an effort at resistance--a
course of action irritating and disheartening to all troops, but
especially to the French, who, admirable in attack, are easily
dispirited, and are ill suited to defensive warfare.
The position which he had now chosen for the battle, on which his
kingdom was to be staked, was badly selected for the action. The front
was, indeed, covered by the river Zadora, but this was crossed by
seven available bridges, none of which had been broken down, while
there was but the one good line of retreat, and this, besides being
already encumbered with baggage-wagons, could be easily turned by the
allies. The French army, weakened by 5000 men, who had marched upon
the preceding days, in charge of convoys for France, were still about
70,000 strong, the allies--British, Portuguese, and Spanish--about
80,000. The French were the strongest in artillery.
Wellington, seeing that Joseph had determined to stand at bay, made
his arrangements for the battle. On the left, Graham, with 20,000 men,
was to attempt to cross the Zadora at Gamara Mayor, when he would
find himself on the main road, behind Vittoria, and so cut the French
line of retreat. Hill, with a like force, was to attack on the right,
through the defile of Puebla, and so, entering the basin of Vittoria,
to threaten the French right, and obtain possession of the bridge of
Nanclares. In the center, Wellington himself, with 30,000 troops,
would force the four bridges in front of the French center, and attack
their main position.
At daybreak on the 21st of June, 1813, the weather being rainy with
some mist, the troops moved from their quarters on the Bayas, passed
in columns over the bridges in front, and slowly approached the
Zadora. About ten o'clock, Hill seized the village of Puebla, and
commenced the passage of the defile, while one of the Portuguese
battalions scaled the heights above. Here the French met them, and a
fierce fight ensued; the French were reinforced on their side, while
the 71st Regiment and a battalion of light infantry joined the
Portuguese.
Villette's division was sent from the French center to join the fray,
while Hill sent up reinforcements. While the fight on the heights
still raged, the troops in the defile made their way through, and,
driving the French back, won the village of Subijano de Alava, in
front of the French main position.
Meanwhile, far to the left, Graham came into action with Reille's
division at Gamara Mayor. The French here, knowing the vital
importance of the position, fought desperately, and the village of
Gamara was taken and retaken several times, but no effort upon the
part of the allies sufficed to carry either the bridge at this place
or that by which the main road crossed the river higher up. A force,
however, was pushed still farther to the left, and there took up a
position on the road at Durana, drove back a Franco-Spanish force
which occupied it, and thus effectively cut the main line of retreat
to France for Joseph's army. The main force under Wellington himself
was later in coming into action, the various columns being delayed by
the difficulties of making their way through the defiles.
While waiting, however, for the third and seventh divisions, which
were the last to arrive, a peasant informed Wellington that the bridge
of Tres Puentes was unbroken and unguarded. Kempt's brigade of the
light division were immediately ordered to cross, and, being concealed
by the inequalities of the ground, they reached it and passed over
unobserved, taking their place under shelter of a crest within a few
hundred yards of the French main line of battle, and actually in rear
of his advanced posts.
Some French cavalry now advanced, but no attack was made upon this
isolated body of British troops, for the French were virtually without
a commander.
Joseph, finding his flank menaced by the movements of Graham and Hill,
now ordered the army to fall back to a crest two miles in the rear,
but at this moment the third and seventh divisions advanced at a run
towards the bridge of Mendoza, the French artillery opened upon them,
the British guns replied, a heavy musketry fire broke out on both
sides, and the battle commenced in earnest. Now the advantage gained
by the passage of Kempt's brigade became manifest, for the riflemen
of his division advanced and took the French advanced cavalry and
artillery in flank. These, thus unexpectedly attacked, fell back
hastily, and a brigade of the third division took advantage of the
moment and crossed the bridge of Mendoza. The other brigade forded the
river a little higher up, the seventh division and Vandeleur's brigade
of the light division followed, Hill pushed the enemy farther back,
and the fourth division crossed by the bridge of Nanclares; other
troops forded the river, and the battle became general all along the
line.
Seeing that the hill in front of Arinez was nearly denuded of troops
by the withdrawal of Villette's division earlier in the day to oppose
Hill, Wellington launched Picton with the third division and Kempt's
brigade against it, and the French, thus attacked with great strength
and fury, and dispirited by the order to retreat, began to fall back.
Fifty pieces of artillery and a cloud of skirmishers covered the
movement, and the British guns answering, the whole basin became
filled with a heavy smoke, under cover of which the French retired
to the heights in front of Gomecha, upon which their reserves were
posted. Picton and Kempt carried the village of Arinez with the
bayonet, Vandeleur captured the village of Margarita, and the 87th
Regiment won that of Hermandad.
This advance turned the flank of the French troops near Subijana de
Alava, and of those on the Puebla mountain, and both fell back in
disorder for two miles, until they made a junction with the main body
of their army. Still the British troops pressed forward, the French
again fell back, and for six miles a running fight of musketry and
artillery was kept up, the ground being very broken, and preventing
the concerted action of large bodies of troops. At six o'clock in the
afternoon the French stood at bay on the last heights before Vittoria,
upon which stood the villages of Ali and Armentia. Behind them was
the plain upon which the city stood, and beyond the city thousands
of carriages, animals, and non-combatants, women, and children, were
crowded together in the extremity of terror as the British shots rang
menacingly over their heads.
The French here defended themselves desperately, and for a while the
allied advance was checked by the terrible fire of shot and shell.
Then the fourth division with a rush carried a hill on the left, and
the French again commenced their retreat. Joseph, finding the great
road absolutely blocked up, gave orders for a retreat by the road to
Salvatierra, and the army, leaving the town of Vittoria on its left,
moved off in a compact mass towards the indicated road. This, however,
like the other, was choked with carriages. It led through a swamp,
and had deep ditches on each side; the artillery, therefore, had to
cut their traces and leave their guns behind them, the infantry and
cavalry thrust aside the encumbrances and continued their march.
Reille, who had defended the upper bridges nobly until the last
moment, now came up, and his division acting as a rear guard, covered
the retreat, and the French retired with little further loss.
They had lost the battle solely and entirely from the utter incapacity
of their general, for their loss had been but little greater than
that of the allies, and they fell back in perfect order and full of
fighting. The French loss, including prisoners, was not more than
6000, and that of the allies exceeded 5000. The French loss, however,
in material was enormous. They carried off two guns only, and 143
fell into the hands of the British. They lost all their parks of
ammunition, all their baggage, all their stores, all their treasures,
all their booty. Last of all, they lost Spain.
The British pursued the French army for some days, and then invested
the two fortresses of San Sebastian and Pampeluna.
Ten days after the battle of Vittoria, Napoleon despatched Soult, one
of the best of his generals, to displace Joseph and assume the supreme
command of the French troops. Traveling with great speed, he reached
the frontier upon the 11th of July and took command. He soon collected
together the divisions which had retired beaten but not routed from
Vittoria, drew together the troops from Bayonne and the surrounding
towns, and in a few days found himself at the head of an army,
including the garrisons, of 114,000 men. Besides these there were the
armies of Aragon and Catalonia, numbering 60,000 men.
After spending a few days in organizing the army, Soult moved forward
to relieve Pampeluna, and then in the heart of the Pyrenees were
fought those desperate combats at Maya, Roncevalles, Buenza, Sauroren,
and Dona Maria, which are known in history as the battles of the
Pyrenees. In these terrible nine days' fighting there were ten serious
combats, in which the allies lost 7300 men, the French, including
prisoners, over 15,000, and Soult fell back baffled and beaten across
the frontier.
Throughout this account of the short and sanguinary campaign by which
in two short months Wellington shattered the power of the French and
drove them headlong from the Peninsula, but little has been said
respecting the doings of the Scudamores. Their duties had been heavy,
but devoid of any personal achievements or events. Wellington, the
incarnation of activity himself, spared no one around him, and from
early dawn until late at night they were on horseback, carrying orders
and bringing back reports. At night their quarters were sometimes
in a village hut, sometimes in a straggling château, which afforded
accommodation to the commander-in-chief and his whole staff.
Sam, a good horseman now, was in the highest of spirits at being able
to accompany his masters, and, although the Spanish women crossed
themselves in horror when they first saw his black face, the boys
would hear shouts of laughter arising before they had been a quarter
of an hour in fresh quarters. He was a capital cook, and a wonderful
hand at hunting up provisions.
There might not be a sign of a feathered creature in a village when
the staff came in, but in half an hour Sam would be sure to return
from foraging with a couple of fowls and his handkerchief full of
eggs. These were, of course, paid for, as the orders against pillaging
were of the strictest character, and the army paid, and paid
handsomely for everything it ate.
It was, however, difficult to persuade the peasants that payment was
intended, and they would hide everything away with vigilant care at
the approach of the troops. When by the display of money they were
really persuaded that payment was intended, they would produce all
that they had willingly enough, but the number of officers wanting
to purchase was so great and the amount of live stock so small in
the war-ravaged country, that few indeed could obtain even for money
anything beside the tough rations of freshly-killed beef issued by the
commissariat.
Let the supply be ever so short, however, Sam never returned
empty-handed, and the fowls were quickly plucked and on the fire
before any one else had succeeded in discovering that there was a bird
in the village.
Sam's foraging powers passed into a joke with the staff, and the
Scudamores became so curious to discover the reason of his success,
that after repeated questioning they persuaded him to tell them.
"Well, massa, de matter berry simple--just easy as fallin' off log.
Sam go along, look into yard ob de cottages, presently see feather
here, feather there. Dat sign ob fowl. Den knock at door. Woman open
always, gib little squeak when she see dis gentleman's colored face.
Den she say, 'What you want? Dis house full. Quarter-master take him
up for three, four officer.' Den Sam say, 'Illustrious madam, me want
to buy two fowls and eggs for master,' and Sam show money in hand. Den
she hesitate a little, and not believe Sam mean to pay. Den she say,
'No fowls here.' Den Sam point to de feathers. Den she get in rage and
tell lie and say, 'Dem birds all stole yesterday.' Den Sam see it time
to talk to de birds--he know dem shut up somewhere in de dark, and Sam
he begin to crow berry loud; Sam berry good at dat. He crow for all
de world like de cock. Dis wake dem up, and a minute one, two, three,
half a dozen cock begin to answer eider from a loft ober house, or
from shed, or from somewhere. Den de woman in terrible fright, she
say, 'Me sell you two quick, if you will go away and swear you tell no
one.' Den Sam swear. Den she run away, come back wid de fowls and some
eggs, and always berry much astonished when Sam pay for dem. After dat
she lose her fear, she see me pay, and she sells de chickens to oders
when they come till all gone. Dat how dis chile manage de affairs,
Massa Tom."
The Scudamores had a hearty laugh, and were well pleased to find that
Sam's method was one to which not even the strictest disciplinarian
could object, a matter concerning which they had previously had grave
doubts.
While the battles of the Pyrenees were being fought, the siege of
St. Sebastian had continued, and once again the British troops had
suffered a terrible loss, from the attempt to carry a fortress with
an insufficient siege-train, and without the time necessary to drive
the trenches forward in regular form. St. Sebastian stood upon a
peninsula. In front of the neck of this peninsula was the hill of San
Bartholomeo, on which stood the convent of that name. At the narrowest
part of the neck stood a redoubt, which was called the Cask Redoubt,
because it was constructed of casks filled with stand. Behind this
came the horn-work and other fortifications. Then came the town, while
at the end of the peninsula rose a steep rock, called Mount Orgullo,
on which stood the citadel. Upon its left side this neck of land was
separated from the mainland by the River Urumea; and upon the heights
of Mount Olia and the Chofres, across the Urumea, were placed the
British batteries, which breached the fortifications facing the river.
General Graham commanded the allied forces, which were detached to
undertake the siege, and on the 10th of July batteries were commenced
against the convent of San Bartholomeo, which had been fortified by
the French. On the 17th the convent was in ruins, and an assault was
made upon the position. The 9th Regiment took the place in gallant
style, but an attempt being made to carry the cask redoubt, with a
rush, the assault was repulsed, the British remaining possessors of
San Bartholomeo.
On the 24th the batteries on Mount Olia, having effected what was
believed to be a practicable breach, 2000 men of the fifth division,
consisting of the 3d battalion of the Royals, the 38th, and the 9th,
made an assault at night. To arrive at the breach they had to make
their way along the slippery rocks on the bed of the Urumea, exposed
to a flank-fire from the river-wall of the town. The breachers had
been isolated from the town, and guns placed to take the stormers in
flank. The confusion and slaughter were terrible, and at daybreak the
survivors fell back, with a loss of forty-nine officers and 520 men.
The whole arrangement of the siege was bad. The plan of Major Smith,
of the engineers, a most excellent officer, which had been approved
by Wellington, was not followed, and the assault, contrary to
Wellington's explicit order, took place at night, instead of by day,
the consequence being confusion, delay, and defeat. The total loss to
the allies of this first siege of St. Sebastian was 1300 men.
Neither of the Scudamores were present at the first siege, but both
witnessed the second assault, of the 31st of August, as Wellington
himself was present on the 30th, to see to the execution of the
preparation for attack, and they obtained leave to remain for the next
day to witness the assault. The siege had been resumed on the 5th of
that month, and on the 23d the batteries had opened fire in earnest,
and immense damage was done to the defenses and garrison. But upon
this occasion, as upon the former one, the proper precautions were not
taken; no lodgment had been effected in the horn-work, and, worst of
all, the blockade had been so negligently conducted by the fleet, that
large bodies of fresh troops, guns, and ammunition had been passed
in, and the defense was even stronger than it had been when the first
assault was delivered.
General Graham took up his position on the heights of the Chofres to
view the assault, and the Scudamores stationed themselves near him.
A dense mist hid the fortress from view, and it was not until eight
o'clock that the batteries were able to open. Then for three hours
they poured a storm of shot and shell upon the defences. The
Scudamores sat down in one of the trenches, where they were a little
sheltered from the blazing heat of the sun, and Sam took his place at
a short distance from them.
As the clock struck eleven the fire slackened, and at that moment Sam
exclaimed, "Grolly, Massa Tom, dere dey go." As he spoke Robinson's
brigade poured out from the trenches, and, passing through the
openings in the sea-wall, began to form on the beach.
It was known that the French had mined the angle of the wall
overhanging the beach, and a sergeant, followed by twelve men, dashed
gallantly forward to try to cut the train leading to the mine. He was
unsuccessful, but the suddenness of the rush startled the French, who
at once fired the mine, which exploded, destroying the brave sergeant
and his party, and thirty of the leading men of the column, but not
doing a tithe of the damage which it would have inflicted had the
column been fairly under it.
"Hurrah! dere dey go," Sam exclaimed as the column clambered over
the ruins and pursued its way unchecked along the beach. They had,
however, to make their way under a storm of fire.
The French, as before, lined the wall, and poured a tremendous
musketry fire into their flank, and the batteries of Mount Orgullo and
St. Elmo plied them with shot and shell, while two pieces of cannon on
the cavalier and one on the horn-work raked them with grape.
Still the column neither halted nor faltered, but dashed, like a wave,
up the breach. When, however, they reached the top they could go no
farther. A deep gulf separated them from the town, while from every
loop-hole and wall behind, the French musketry swept the breach. The
troops could not advance and would not retreat, but sullenly stood
their ground, heaping the breach with their dead. Fresh bodies of men
came up, and each time a crowd of brave men mounted the breach, only
to sink down beneath the storm of fire.
"This is awful, horrible, Tom!" Peter said in a choked voice. "Come
away, I can't look at this slaughter, it is a thousand times worse
than any battle."
Tom made no reply, his own eyes were dim with tears, and he rose to
go, taking one more look at the deadly breach, at whose foot the
survivors of the last attempt had sunk down, and whence the mass of
soldiers were keeping up a musketry fire against the guns and unseen
foes who were sweeping them away, when an officer ran up from General
Graham's side, and in a minute fifty guns from the Chofres batteries
opened a storm of fire upon the curtain and the traverses behind the
breach.
It was a terrible trial to the nerves of the assaulting columns when
this terrific fire was poured upon a spot only twenty feet above them;
but they were not men to shrink, and the men of the light division
seized the opportunity to pull up the broken masonry and make a
breastwork, known in military terms as a lodgment.
For half an hour the iron storm poured overhead unchecked, smashing
the traverse, knocking down the loop-holed walls, and killing numbers
of the defenders. Then it ceased, and the troops leapt to their feet,
and again rushed up the breach, while the 13th Portuguese Regiment,
followed by a detachment of the 24th, waded across the Urumea under a
heavy fire from the castle, and attacked the third breach.
But still no entry could be effected. The French fire was as heavy as
ever, and the stormers again sank baffled to the foot of the great
breach. The assault seemed hopeless, the tide was rising, the reserves
were all engaged, and the men had done all that the most desperate
courage could do. For five hours the battle had raged, when, just as
all appeared lost, one of those circumstances occurred which upset all
calculations and decide the fate of battles.
Behind the traverses the French had accumulated a great store of
powder barrels, shells, and other combustibles. Just at this moment
these caught fire. A bright flame wrapped the whole wall, followed by
a succession of loud explosions; hundreds of French grenadiers were
destroyed, and before the smoke had cleared away, the British burst
like a flood through the first traverse.
Although bewildered by this sudden disaster, the French rallied, and
fought desperately; but the British, desperate with the long agony
of the last five hours, would not be denied; the light division
penetrated on the left, the Portuguese on the right. The French, still
resisting obstinately, were driven through the town to the line of
defense at the foot of Mount Orgullo, and the town of St. Sebastian
was won.
"Will you go across, Peter, and enter the town?"
"No, no, Tom; the sight of that horrible breach is enough for me.
Let us mount, and ride off at once. I am quite sick after this awful
suspense."
It was as well that the Scudamores did not enter the town, as, had
they done so, they might have shared the fate of several other
officers, who were shot down while trying to stop the troops in their
wild excesses. No more disgraceful atrocities were ever committed by
the most barbarous nations of antiquity than those which disgraced the
British name at the storming of St. Sebastian. Shameful, monstrous as
had been the conduct of the troops at the storming of Ciudad Rodrigo
and at Badajos, it was infinitely worse at St. Sebastian. As Rapin
says, hell seemed to have broken loose.
The castle held out until the 9th, when it surrendered, and the
governor and his heroic garrison marched out with the honors of war.
The British loss in the second siege exceeded 2500 men and officers.
There was a pause of two months after the fall of St. Sebastian,
and it was not until the 10th of November that Wellington hurled
his forces against the lines which, in imitation of those of Torres
Vedras, Soult had formed and fortified on the river Nivelle to
withstand the invasion of France. After a few hours' desperate
fighting the French were turned out of their position with a loss of
killed, wounded, and prisoners, of 4265 men and officers, the loss of
the allies being 2694.
Now the army of invasion poured into France. The French people,
disheartened by Napoleon's misfortunes in Germany, and by the long and
mighty sacrifices which they had for years been compelled to make, in
order to enable Napoleon to carry out his gigantic wars, showed but
slight hostility to the invaders.
Wellington enforced the severest discipline, paid for everything
required for the troops, hanging marauders without mercy, and, finding
that it was impossible to keep the Spanish troops in order, he sent
the whole Spanish contingent, 20,000 strong, back across the Pyrenees.
He then with the Anglo-Portuguese army moved on towards Bayonne, and
took up a position on both sides of the river Nive, driving the French
from their position on the right bank on December 9th. On the 13th,
however, Soult attacked that portion of the army on the right of the
river, and one of the most desperate conflicts of the war took place,
known as the battle of St. Pierre. General Hill commanded at this
battle, and with 14,000 Anglo-Portuguese, with 14 guns, repulsed the
furious and repeated attacks of 16,000 French, with 22 guns.
In five days' fighting on the river the French lost more than as many
thousand men.
The weather now for a time interrupted operations, but Wellington was
preparing for the passage of the Adour. Soult guarded the passages
of the river above Bayonne, and never dreamed that an attempt would
be made to bridge so wide and rough a river as is the Adour below
the town. With the assistance of the sailors of the fleet the great
enterprise was accomplished on the 13th of February, and leaving
General Hope to contain the force in the entrenched camp at Bayonne,
Wellington marched the rest of the army to the Gave.
Behind this river Soult had massed his army. The British crossed by
pontoon bridges, and before the operation was concluded, and the
troops united, Soult fell upon them near Orthes.
At first the French had the best of the fight, driving back both
wings of the allied forces, but Wellington threw the third and sixth
divisions upon the left flank of the attacking column and sent the
52nd Regiment to make a detour through a marsh and fall upon their
other flank. Taken suddenly between two fires the French wavered,
the British pressed forward again, and the French fell back fighting
obstinately, and in good order. The allies lost 2300 men, and the
French 4000. Soult fell back towards Toulouse, laying Bordeaux open to
the British.