Letter No. XXI
_To his Parents, from Vera, Pyrenees, dated 30th August 1813_
Description of his surroundings in the Pyrenees—Describes the advance
from Alameda and gives extracts from his journal and details of fight
at San Millan and battle of Vitoria—The pursuit—Pitiful state of the
French wounded—They curse their Emperor—Fighting in the Pyrenees—Would
come home when the army goes into winter quarters, but has no plain
clothes—Affectionate messages to his family and anxiety to be of
assistance to them.
_Postscript, dated 4th September 1813_
Describes the fighting on the occasion of the defence of the bridge of
Vera (the morning after the preceding letter was written)—Heavy losses
of the Rifles—Bewails being a junior Lieutenant—Brother Joseph posted
to another company and "to start fair by himself."
_Journal—31st August-31st December 1813_
Soult makes a final attempt to relieve San Sebastian—Defence of
the bridge of Vera—A night on outpost duty—Night attack by the
French, who carry the bridge of Vera—Death of Captain Cadoux of the
Rifles—The "Volunteer" and his experiences of campaigning—He returns
to England—The storming of San Sebastian—The "high compliment" paid
to the Rifles by Lord Wellington—Final warning to his father not to
show his letters about—The fortress stormed—The Governor surrenders
the castle—Simmons visits San Sebastian and sees the wounded officers
of the Rifles—Forcing the Pass of Vera—The 3rd Battalion Rifles covers
the advance—Heavy fighting and losses—La Rhune occupied—Extensive
view from the mountains—French territory in sight—Witnesses a naval
engagement—The French fortify Petite La Rhune—Fall of Pamplona—Lord
Wellington thereupon advances—Battle of the Nivelle—Colonel
Barnard severely wounded—Asks Simmons if he can recover, and gets
a reply—Simmons ordered to remain and look after his Colonel, who
recovers—More fighting in the Pyrenees—Lieutenant Hopwood killed—End
of the year.
Letter No. XXII
_To his Parents, from St. Jean de Luz, France, dated 7th December 1813_
The fighting in the Pyrenees in October and the French retirement
across the frontier—Wellington's orders prior to the battle of the
Nivelle—How the Rifles spent the evening before the fight—The battle
of the Nivelle—The French routed at all points and driven from their
entrenchments—Colonel Barnard's wound—Simmons placed in charge of him
and "bleeds him constantly"—Simmons dines with Lord Wellington—Takes
steps to make brother Joseph more independent—Expectations of being
able to assist his family.
_Postscript_
British soldiers on good terms with the French population—Contrasts
their behaviour to that of the French soldiers in Spain—The
French now suffering for their misdeeds—Probabilities of peace and
determination to enlist in some foreign army if England has no
wars—Expectations of more fighting in a few days.
Letter No. XXI
Bivouac near Vera on the frontiers of France,
Pyrenees, _30th August 1813_.
Dear Parents—Your letter, bearing date 17th July, I received during
the advance, and at a time when each day's march produced something
amusing and interesting. I therefore delayed answering it until this
period, wishing to say much in a small compass. I am now seated in
a charming hut of my own forming, with a crystal mountain stream
running at my feet, on every side tremendous mountains, whose lofty
summits embrace the clouds, their sides covered with rich woods and
fruit-trees; the valleys exuberantly luxurious, abounding with fruits,
corn, and wine. Such delightful scenery I never before beheld. In such
a place, if it were not for war—cruel war!—how happy the inhabitants
might live. But, alas! those innocent dwellings are pillaged and the
poor distressed owners fled with their families into the wild recesses
in the mountains, in hopes of sheltering themselves from their savage
pursuers. These bloodthirsty rascals often, when they cannot find the
plunder they expect, set fire to the houses and burn whole villages.
Such wrongs call out for vengeance, and ere long I hope the country
that has caused so much _innocent_ blood to be spilt will feel in the
bosom of her own the effects of war. I am sorry to hear of the death
of my aunt. I had pleased myself with the hopes of seeing her again.
How fleeting and delusive are all worldly views!
* * * * *
As the newspapers have given you accounts of our battles, I will
describe some of the occurrences that took place. On the 21st of May
we broke up from our cantonment and the Division assembled near Ciudad
Rodrigo in high health, and upon the next day we commenced our march
upon Salamanca. The French scampered off. Our Dragoons roughly handled
some of them. We then marched upon Toro, on the river Douro. The enemy
were here outwitted by our great Lord's superior generalship—outflanked
and obliged to leave that position. Our Hussars came up with some
cavalry and sliced and carved them genteelly. We were much astonished
that we had already passed over so great a tract of country without
once exchanging a shot. We now moved upon the river Ebro, passing
through the most iron-bound country I had ever beheld, and as we
crossed the river the band played the "Downfall of Paris," which made
us laugh and afforded us some amusement.
To digress a little from the subject, I must say something of the
fertility of the place by referring back to my journal of the 15th of
June. After a long day's march, we crossed the Ebro at Puenteareñas and
bivouacked near the village named Areñas. The river narrowed, but very
rapid. Swam the river with some of my friends. This fertile valley is
called Villacayo. The scenery on the banks of the river was sublime,
novel, and picturesque. On every side, rugged and steep mountains.
Plenty of wine, fruits, and vegetables. This manœuvre of our great
Commander, which the enemy had not calculated upon, put _Johnny_ into
much confusion. Our army now was daily concentrating, and at the same
time moving upon Vitoria. On the 18th of June our Division made a
rapid march to intercept a body of the enemy, and came pounce upon a
Division. Our 1st and 3rd Battalions were ordered to march over some
very steep hills covered with trees to attack them in the rear, at the
same time sending two of our companies just to amuse them in the front,
and with orders not to press upon the town until we fell upon the rear.
Poor Joe had recently had the ague and looked delicate. This morning,
however, he felt a stomach for the fight. I told him to keep at my side
and he would see what fine bloodhounds Rifle Men were. We soon gained
the spot, and rushed upon them furiously, and though they gave us
several discharges from a good-formed line, they were so staggered that
one Brigade ran into the mountains, while the other retreated, throwing
away everything. We chased them through several villages, in which
they usually made a stand, to the no small terror of the inhabitants,
as it astonished peaceable people to have the balls whistling about
their ears. Our men were their own commissaries this day, having taken
plenty of white bread and bacon. Being very hungry, I fed lustily. Joe
could not partake of the repast, though he felt pleased with the day's
amusement.
On 19th June, I visited Maud and dined with him. I had not seen him
for some time. Joe quite well. June 21st was a day which will be
for ever memorable in the pages of history, for the gallantry which
was displayed by all is beyond my humble pen to describe. I assure
you I feel proud at being able to say I was there. Fortune favoured
me as well as Joe, who was always at my side (as he belonged to the
same company); he behaved as brave as a lion. I thank Almighty God
for His kindness and protection from injury in the hour of danger.
It is exceedingly lucky, three brothers in the same fight and none
touched, and how we have escaped so long astonishes me. As you have
had the whole business in the papers, it is needless to dwell upon
this. We fought till dark, being heartily tired. Having been marching
and fighting without tasting anything since two o'clock that morning,
there was no wonder. I fried some ham upon the point of my sword, drank
a good dose of _Johnny's_ wine, and fell fast asleep upon the spot,
forgetting even my blankets, and was lost to the cares of the world
until daylight. The men standing to their arms awoke me, when I found
myself wet through with the dew of the night. What strange vicissitudes
of life the soldier meets with! Campaigning is the life for me. I have
never felt such happiness since I became a soldier. I often think that
to be living in England after this wild, romantic existence would not
give me half so much satisfaction.
We daily hung upon the enemy's rear—our Division, some cavalry,
and Light Artillery. In this way we annoyed them very seriously,
making many bite the ground and other poor wretches travel, wounded
and bleeding at every step, until nature could do no more. Being
exhausted, they fell, cursing their Emperor with their last breath.
Whenever these unfortunate wretches fell into our hands, as soon as
they ascertained we were English they were satisfied, knowing well the
nobleness of the soul which an Englishman possesses.
On 24th June we drove the enemy into and past Pamplona, and took their
last gun. Since that period we have been marching and counter-marching
in the Pyrenees, among and upon such mountain tracks as would
astonish milch goats, much more animals with two legs, ill-calculated
for travelling in such rugged places. Different parts of our army,
according to circumstances, have frequently dislodged the enemy from
the strongest places that Nature could in her vagaries have formed.
Such a place as this we attacked on the 2nd of August (our 1st and
3rd Battalions were the only people in the fight), which was carried
handsomely, and what pleased our fellows most was beating the enemy
over their own boundaries and letting the French peasantry see their
soldiers run away.
This day I lost a valuable young friend. He was in the same company,
and badly wounded in the knee, which I am afraid will finish his career
of glory. Thus, since we started, Joe and myself have not received a
single scratch, while the other two officers are both wounded. However,
it is all a lottery. Maud had escaped until the other day. He was lucky
having a horse to stop the force, or the ball would have riddled him.
Our regiment has lost above twelve officers killed and wounded during
this campaign (I mean the Battalion), which has been less than we
ever before lost. We are now placed upon the French frontier in
the Pyrenees. The enemy's army are opposite to us, upon a chain of
mountains similar to those we occupy. Our sentries are within fifty
yards of each other, and their main body opposite to where we are,
about a mile off, so we can come to blows in half an hour whenever our
great Commander may think fit to pit us, or in other words, slip us
at them. Our cannon is now thundering at San Sebastian and Pamplona.
Whether _Johnny_ will again raise the siege of these places, a few days
will determine. We shall be in hot water until these places fall.
I had a letter yesterday from Maud. He informs me that the wound
he received is quite well, and he is ready for another affair. Joe
is in high health. He is now very stout, and cultivating a pair of
moustaches, which amuse me no little. I have been thinking of visiting
you this winter after the campaign is over and we go into winter
quarters. I could with a fair wind cross the Bay of Biscay in three
or four days from this point. I could have leave when I choose. The
expenses of travelling in England would fleece my pocket. There is also
another consideration—plain clothes, which are very expensive, and I
have nothing but my military attire, which would make the people gaze
at me as upon a dancing bear. I must now conclude with my best wishes
for your general happiness. My duty to my uncle, in which Joseph most
heartily joins.—Yours ever,
Geo. Simmons,
Lt., 1st Batt., 95th Regt.
Be careful and seal your letters. The last was open.
Deserters inform us Soult means to attack us again in two or three
days. When we get into winter quarters in two months' time or so,
you may leave a note at the post office to inform me where you live
in Hull; direct "Mr. Simmons" upon it. I hope you will not mention
my coming to any one, as I want no acquaintances. You need not leave
a note if the postmaster or man can give me the information, as you
then may say you expect a person to see you about the time I have
mentioned. As worldly views are so fleeting and uncertain, it is better
for you not to make too sure of my coming, as it will increase the
disappointment if any unforeseen accident prevents me.
_Sept. 4th._—I had finished my letter on the 30th. The next morning at
daylight a column of the enemy were drawn up opposite us, amounting to
20,000. Away went our baggage and we to arms. About 9 o'clock A.M. they
descended in three columns into the valley, covered by some artillery,
crossed the roads under a smart fire from part of our 2nd Battalion,
and disappointed us by moving off to their own right in the direction
of San Sebastian. The Spaniards fought well. Our Battalion was marching
all the day, occupying first one position and then another, but, to
our annoyance, _Johnny_ never came near us. Towards night it began to
thunder and lighten horridly, and poured with torrents of rain. I was
on piquet, and observed _Johnny_ by the lightning's glare retracing his
steps back in this horrid night. At 2 A.M. _Johnny_ attacked a bridge
where we had a piquet of Rifle Men, two companies, who fought so
handsomely, that with this small number they checked them for an hour.
A captain of ours, who stood upon the bridge rallying his men round
him, fell like a soldier, covered with wounds.[22] Five officers of
ours were wounded. This attack of Soult's was to relieve San Sebastian
and Pamplona—a miserable attempt. The three British regiments in the
Light Division gave a proportion of men and officers for a storming
party to San Sebastian. I am told nothing could exceed the gallantry
displayed by our brave fellows; every part was defended by art beyond
conception. One officer of ours had four wounds, another was shot
through the side, and all the officers of our Division that were there,
excepting two, were killed or wounded. It is a melancholy thing to be a
junior lieutenant in such times as these, because the senior claims the
first offer. Whenever a party is detached upon such an occasion, our
Boys are so proud of it that, according to seniority, they would not
think of letting it pass them. When I am senior I hope to have my turn.
The castle still holds out, but it must surrender in a few days, as the
town has fallen.
My riding horse, which cost me twenty guineas, the blacksmith unluckily
pricked in shoeing. The foot is very bad, so if the enemy attack us, I
shall be under the necessity of shooting the animal. I am very unlucky
with my animals, and no person can be more careful. I bought Joe a
good pony. I have now got him a strong donkey to carry his equipage,
so he is not dependent upon me. I have also got him removed to another
company, as the more he is independent of me the better. I have now
settled everything for him to my wishes; he is free from debt, with
five months' pay due to him. He now starts fair for himself. I shall
always give him such advice as may serve him, and make him steer
clear of those misfortunes that young men are liable to, particularly
in the army, without a monitor. He has always behaved himself to my
satisfaction, which makes me proud of him, and whatever I tell him he
carefully obeys. The officers like him much, which is highly flattering
to me; and, above all, he possesses that tender affection for his
family which I admire above all his virtues.
_Journal—31st August-31st December 1813_
[Sidenote: 31st]
Marshal Soult, finding that San Sebastian was closely invested and
the breaches practicable, was determined to make a desperate attempt
to drive the British from their present position and raise the siege
of that place. He concentrated a large force, which at daylight we
found filing from a variety of defiles in the mountains and forming
immediately above Vera. Seeing his troops assembled so clearly from our
position produced a good deal of interest and not a few jokes amongst
us.
The enemy soon began to move down the steep hill towards the river,
and crossed at a ford below the bridge, having previously driven our
piquets from the town. Some French moved forward to take possession of
the bridge and were repulsed by two Rifle companies in good style. A
stronger force was sent to the bridge, and the two companies occupied
some houses and fired upon the enemy from them. A few shot and shell
were thrown to cover the advance of the French in passing the river.
Being fired from a spot considerably above their heads, the artillery
officer had not given sufficient elevation, and three or four shells
burst amongst themselves and set them scampering about, much to our
amusement, who were literally looking down upon them. The enemy's
skirmishers moved up the heights to our left towards the high road
through Irun to San Sebastian, followed by their columns.
Don Manuel Freyre, with his Spanish Division, fought very spiritedly
in the town, and also upon the heights of San Marcial, when the French
attempted to crown them. The Spaniards beat the enemy back. Lord
Wellington was an eye-witness on this occasion and was highly pleased.
Before dark, Marshal Soult was completely beaten in all his attacks
as well as having gained no advantage by his manœuvres, having had to
contend with his _master_ in the art of war. The 1st Brigade, Light
Division, marched from hill to hill and towards evening crowned the
heights above Lezaca and remained there for the night. The day had
been exceptionally hot, and our march up the sides of high mountains
was trying to the soldiers. Just before dark I was placed with thirty
men upon the side of a mountain. The night now set in very stormy and
rainy; we had great difficulty to keep our fire from going out. I
sent some of them to the house of a Spaniard close by and got a large
chest. I had it placed on end before the fire and sat in it. I was
obliged to be very much upon my guard and the sentries very active,
being close to the enemy. The rain ran down the sides of the mountains
in torrents, and the thunder and lightning were very frequent. By the
occasional glare which illumined the mountain above me, I saw the enemy
in full retreat, no doubt much alarmed for fear of finding the river
not fordable. Our Rifle Men still occupied the right bank of the river
as far as keeping a double sentry close to it and the other piquets in
loop-holed houses near.
[Sidenote: 1813 Sept. 1st]
About 2 o'clock A.M. the enemy, finding no possible way of retreating
but over the bridge and through Vera, made a desperate attack with a
most overwhelming force on the bridge, and carried it. Captain Cadoux
brought his company to the bridge and tried to drive the enemy back,
or prevent more from passing. They fought most heroically; he soon
fell, after having received several musket-balls in his breast. His
Lieutenant, Llewellyn, had his jaw shattered. Several men were killed
and wounded. They were obliged to retire a little distance, but kept up
a fire as long as the enemy continued to file over the bridge. Returned
and occupied our old encampment, and took up the line of piquets as
before. Cold, wet, and hungry, my friend Cox and I lay down, joking
about the adventures of the last day and night, and waiting the arrival
of our baggage to get something to eat.
A gentleman named Dornford,[23] who had been educated for a parson,
but took a chivalrous idea, when comfortably seated in his mother's
parlour before a good fire reading the description of heroes and
fighting men, that he had completely mistaken his profession,
determined to become a volunteer, and obtained letters to Lord
Wellington, little doubting that he must ultimately become a great
man and a General. With this idea he presented himself as speedily as
possible before the hero of Britain, who sent him to the Rifles, since
with that corps he would have a bellyful of fighting. He was very
anxious to commence his military career, but he expected that he should
have an opportunity, like the great men of old, to commence with an
oration and to lead the people, and that every one would admire him for
his personal valour. But, alas! he found that impossible. The men had
plenty of leaders who understood their business and had for years been
at this sort of work, which also gave them the benefit of experience.
Also, from exposure to every description of hardship, their bodies had
become proof against what ordinary men (who had not gone through the
same ordeal) would sink under. "I am astonished," says he, drawing
near to us, "how you can joke and pass off so lightly scenes of misery
and woe such as we have gone through the last day and night. God knows
how I repent ever turning soldier." He was a clever, gentlemanly young
fellow, and we told him he certainly had mistaken his profession, and
we advised him to give it up and return home. He thanked us for the
advice and set off the same afternoon to Passages, and embarked for
England soon after.[24]
[Sidenote: 2nd]
I went to examine the bridge and river where the French had attempted
to pass. A number of men had been drowned close to the bridge, and
also at the places fordable previous to the rain. The wounded had been
removed, but the dead were still laid about the bridge. Trout of a
large size were feasting upon the Frenchmen's carcases in the water.
The town of San Sebastian was assaulted about mid-day on 31st August,
and after considerable delay and very hard fighting the place fell
into our hands. The principal part of the garrison retreated into the
castle, which completely commands the place.
[Sidenote: 3rd]
[Sidenote: 6th]
The Governor made a proposal that if we would desist throwing shells
into the castle he would surrender if not relieved in a fortnight. His
proposal was not acceded to, and shells were thrown in with redoubled
vigour until the morning of the 6th, when the Governor, General Rey,
gave up and surrendered with the remainder of his garrison as prisoners
of war—1300 effective men, 500 sick and wounded. The loss in killed at
the assaults and during the siege was 1200 men.
[Sidenote: 26th]
My poor friend Percival had been dreadfully wounded at the foot of one
of the breaches, and in the evening he was carried away to a house in
the neighbourhood. To-day I paid him a visit, and was greatly shocked
at his emaciated frame. However, he ultimately got better, as well as
Lieutenant Hamilton, who was also seriously wounded in two places. I
went into San Sebastian and found everything very dilapidated. It had
the appearance of being a place of some note, placed at the base of a
bold promontory, on the top of which is a Moorish castle. The town is
well fortified, its walls being washed by the sea on both sides, and
the part that it does not come in contact with has strong works across.
Every description of defence possible for a skilful man to resort to
had been made by the Governor.
[Sidenote: 27th]
Went to Passages, another seaport town. The rocky cliffs on the sea
coast are very bold, and the gaping fissure through which ships enter
the harbour appears to have been caused some time or other by an
extraordinary convulsion of nature, the sides at the entrance are so
abrupt and steep.
[Sidenote: 28th]
I left my poor suffering friend and returned to my corps. Found all
quiet, and continued taking piquet duties as they came round until the
7th of October.
Forcing the Pass of Vera
[Sidenote: 1813 Oct. 7th]
Lord Wellington was determined to advance the left of his army. General
Graham was ordered forward and the Light Division was directed to clear
the heights in our front. We formed close to the bottom of the hills.
Our 3rd Battalion moved forward in skirmishing order up the side of the
high hill which appears to overhang Vera. Nothing in the world could
appear more beautiful than their steady advance. It was more like a
field-day's manœuvre than a fight; 15,000 or 20,000 soldiers had an
opportunity of witnessing their cool intrepidity. The two Brigades now
advanced. The 2nd Brigade, under the command of Colonel Colborne, met
with great obstacles in carrying a star redoubt, and the 2nd Caçadores
and the 2nd Battalion of Rifle Men lost a number of men: the Colonel
of the Caçadores killed, Captain Gibbons, Lieutenants Hill and
Campbell killed, five officers wounded. The Spaniards under Longa did
not reach their ground in time to turn the flank of the redoubt. The
Light Division had innumerable obstacles to encounter, redoubts and
field-works on every eminence presenting themselves to our view; but
the steadiness and daring intrepidity of the men eventually surmounted
all obstacles, and the French were driven into their own country, of
which we now had a fine view.
Captain Cox and myself, with about sixty men, followed the enemy down
into the valley through the Pass of Vera. We took some prisoners and
two French horn-players, and, laughably enough, our men requested them
to play some French tunes. What with alarm and fright, they made sad
music of it. We moved up to our encampment, and thus ended a day of as
pretty rifle practice as I had ever seen, and the enemy driven from a
position that had cost them much labour and trouble in putting into a
state of defence.
[Sidenote: 8th]
[Sidenote: 9th]
One particularly high mountain named La Rhune was still in possession
of the enemy, and from the top the French were amusing themselves by
firing long shots at the Spaniards all day. In the evening their force
was withdrawn and this morning La Rhune was occupied by the Light
Division. A smaller mountain, from its similarity and position, was
called Petite La Rhune, and divided from it by a valley. Our advanced
piquets were now posted on one side upon the slopes, and the French on
the opposite side within 200 yards of us.
From these stupendous mountains we had a most commanding view of
a vast extent of highly cultivated French territory, innumerable
villages, and the town and port of St. Jean de Luz. We could also see
our cruisers sailing about near the French coast, which gave us an
additional interest in the view before us.
[Sidenote: 13th]
This morning one of our ships was observed to be chasing a brig of war,
and got between her and the shore. We observed the batteries near the
town trying to aid the escape of the French ship, but without success.
As the boats from the English went to board her, the Frenchmen got into
theirs and made for the shore. Some English sailors went on board,
but soon left her. A short time after she was one mass of fire and
soon blew up. A dense smoke arose from the spot, but in a moment there
was not a vestige that we could perceive remaining upon the bosom of
the ocean. It was a beautiful morning, and some thousands of veteran
Englishmen having a bird's-eye view of the whole affair, took a lively
interest in the gallant manner our brave Tars performed their duty. How
delighted the sailors would have been if they had been aware that so
many of their countrymen were observing and applauding them from the
tops of the Pyrenees!
[Sidenote: 30th]
The enemy endeavouring to form a connecting chain of breast-works along
the line of their position, and occasional strong redoubts at intervals
supporting this line. The French officers would call out to us and say,
"You cannot remain in these bleak mountains much longer. We suppose
you will soon retire into Spain for the winter?" Our answer was, "Very
likely we may, if we are so ordered." It certainly was beginning to be
exceedingly cold, with frequent storms of hail and rain. Our tents,
from the tremendous gusts of winds which suddenly and frequently
assailed them, were torn and often rendered useless. The Spaniards, and
the Portuguese also, lost men from cold and severe weather. Strange to
say, in this severe climate, exposed to every hardship, not a man was
on the sick-list in our Battalion.
[Sidenote: 1813 Nov. 1st]
Sir John Hope arrived from England about this time and took command of
the left wing, as Sir Thomas Graham was so ill that he was obliged to
go to England.
[Sidenote: 7th]
The enemy's position now had a very formidable appearance upon the
summit of the ridge of Petite La Rhune. Where it was at all accessible,
strong walls were built, with loop-holes to fire through. The ground
was scarped, and at small distances along the front, strong redoubts
were placed to strengthen more effectually their line of defence. Four
French regiments were encamped upon Petite La Rhune ready to man the
works at a moment. The roads through the mountains in our rear had been
made and put in order by strong parties of soldiers so that cannon
could be brought up with facility at any time.
[Sidenote: 8th]
Pamplona fell on the 31st of October, after being blockaded for about
four months, the Governor, General Cassan, and 4000 men becoming
prisoners of war. This circumstance enabled Lord Wellington to make a
forward movement with his whole force. Officers commanding regiments in
our Division received instructions at what points their regiments were
to attack the enemy's works. At the same time the whole of the allied
army was to co-operate with us and make a simultaneous attack upon the
enemy's line of works, redoubts, etc.
After dark, the Light Division filed from the encampment behind La
Rhune with the least possible noise and formed up into columns and lay
down close behind our advanced piquet, which was partly across the deep
valley that separated the French from us. Here we remain anxiously
waiting until the day should dawn for the attack.
Battle of the Nivelle
[Sidenote: 10th]
The happy moment came at last. The French piquet was seated around
the fire, and with no apprehension of what was going to take place.
Some heavy cannon sounded the advance, and in a moment every one was
in motion up the sides of this tremendous steep. Obstacles of an
extraordinary nature were opposed to us, and the enemy kept up a very
brisk fire from behind their walls, but nothing could impede the ardour
of England's brave sons. The works were carried in every direction.
Other works, more concentrated and filled with men, were now opened to
our view and immediately attacked. Many gallant fellows fell to rise
no more in this world. I saw some French officers standing upon their
walls, and trying every means in their power to make their men remain.
One young officer was doing prodigies of valour and would not leave
the wall; he was shot, and came tumbling down. The French were driven
from all their positions, and our army took up the line of the Nivelle.
Colonel Barnard, towards the end of this day's fighting, received a
musket-ball in his right breast, which made him tumble from his horse;
he fell upon the hilt of his sword and bruised his side very much.
I was near him when he fell, and put my hand into his bosom to feel
where the ball entered. I found his lungs had been wounded, as blood in
quantities and air issued from the wound; some blood was passing from
his mouth also. He in a most collected manner said, "Do you think I am
dying? Did you ever see a man so wounded recover?" I observed, "Your
wound is a very bad one, but there have been many instances of men
recovering from such wounds, and your pulse does not indicate immediate
dissolution." "Thank you," he exclaimed, "you give me hopes. If any man
can recover, I know I shall." He was immediately bled very largely and
taken by four men in a blanket to a farmhouse. After all was over, Sir
James Kempt, who commanded the Brigade, sent for me, and said it was
his wish, as well as that of all the officers, that I should go to the
Colonel and stay with him a few days. My brother Joseph had been in the
day's fight. I was anxious to find him. He soon turned up, as lucky as
myself, without a wound.
[Sidenote: 13th]
I went to the house where the Colonel had been taken to and remained
with him. Constructed a bearer, upon which the Colonel was placed and
supported upon the shoulders of our band through the pass of Vera to
that town. I remained with him night and day until every dangerous
symptom was subdued, and having a good constitution, he speedily
recovered, and on the 7th of December we rode to headquarters at
St. Jean-de-Luz. Continued here till 24th December, when we joined
the Battalion at the château of Arcangues. The companies occupied
farmhouses in the vicinity. The French army were now in an entrenched
camp under the walls of Bayonne, a strongly fortified town upon the
confluence of the rivers Nive and Adour. The high road from Paris to
Madrid passes through this town, and the road to St. Jean Pied-de-Port
runs from it, and takes its course between the Adour and Nive. The
by-roads in every direction are exceedingly bad, and more particularly
at this time, as the rain had continued to fall in quantities for some
time back. The Light Division had been occupied in fortifying the
church and château of Arcangues, and field-works were thrown up in many
other places. On the 10th, my friends informed me that Marshal Soult
advanced with a large force by the high road from Bayonne and formed
up near Bassussarry, which is directly opposite the church and château
of Arcangues, and made an attack upon the left of our line. Lieutenant
Hopwood and Sergeant Brotherwood were killed. A ball passed through
both their heads, happening to be standing a little behind one another.
They were both capital soldiers and were put in the same grave.
[Sidenote: 1813 Dec. 31st]
Marshal Soult made a number of attacks on different parts of our line,
which in no one instance succeeded, and the loss to the enemy was
very great. This night the regiments of Frankfort and Nassau, with
their commandant, Colonel Kruse, came over in a body. These regiments
were very well-appointed and good-looking soldiers. They marched to
Passages, and were shipped for their own country. Marshal Soult after
this affair told his soldiers that a hundred battles still awaited them.
The campaign of 1813 now terminated; it certainly had been a most
brilliant one indeed. I now and then have mentioned officers of my
corps that were killed and wounded, but there were also many that I
have not in my hurry thought of.
Letter No. XXII
Saint Jean-de-Luz, France,
_7th December 1813_.
My dear Parents—As I informed you, some unforeseen accident might
prevent me having the extreme felicity of paying you a visit this
winter, so things have turned out. However, when you are acquainted
with the circumstances you will rather attribute it to good fortune
than otherwise. To begin my story. On the 7th of October a combined
attack of the whole army commenced upon the whole line of the enemy's
position. The papers have already given you the particulars. The
enemy were so thunderstruck at the desperate bravery of our gallant
fellows, that they were driven from all their fortified positions
in succession, and when they had the temerity to stand, the bayonet
decided the business. The enemy that day was sent scampering into his
own territory. Thus, using the words of Soult, "The proud islanders
overlooked the fine fertile valleys of France."
The part of the line occupied by our Division was on the top of an
immense high chain of mountains. In consequence of very bad weather,
and being so elevated, we were exposed to continual hurricanes
and incessant snow, sleet, or rain. Some men died from the cold.
This respite gave the enemy time to construct works, which he was
incessantly labouring at. Our situation, as you may well conceive, was
not an enviable one. We wished for the happy moment to drive the enemy
from his present position, in order that we might have some warmer
cantonments for the winter. Our noble chief soon gratified our wishes,
and gave out an order on the evening of the 9th of November: "To-morrow
the army will drive the French upon Bayonne and behind the river Adour.
Light Division will get under arms at 2 o'clock in the morning and
march to the point of attack, where the Division will form in three
columns of attack and remain until daylight, and the signal to advance
will be a salvo from thirty pieces of cannon." This order produced the
greatest joy. We spent a jovial evening, singing and dancing until
12 o'clock. I then rolled myself up in my blanket and slept until
two, fell in, and marched to the place appointed. As soon as the day
dawned the long-wished signal was given. No music is so delicious to
the ear of a soldier. We moved forward under a heavy fire from the
enemy's works without ever exchanging a shot until we got up to them
and scaled the walls. Then the work of death commenced. _Johnny_ was so
paralysed at the cool bravery of the British that he instantly became
panic-struck and ran in every direction. Some few who had the temerity
to stand were instantly no more. I saw some heroic officers who tried
to rally their men. They fell like brave soldiers, covered with
wounds and with glory. In this way we carried work after work which
were apparently invulnerable. It was a beautiful sight to see 70,000
men or more moving in every direction. A continued roar of cannon and
musketry, the smoke rising along the whole line. We marched and fought
until about three o'clock in the afternoon, when we formed to attack
the last body of troops opposed to us (I mean to our Division). The
ground was at that place very strong. Just as our gallant Colonel
Barnard was reconnoitring how to move to the best advantage, a
musket-ball entered his right breast. He fell. I was near him, and got
him put into a blanket and taken a few paces to the rear. He began to
spit blood, the ball having passed through his lungs. He soon came
to himself and said, "Simmons, you know my situation. Am I mortally
wounded?" I felt the wound, and answered, "Colonel, it is useless to
mince the matter; you are dangerously wounded, but not immediately
mortally." "Well, Simmons," he replied, "be candid. I am not afraid
to die." I answered, "I am candid." He said then, "I am satisfied." I
was preparing to bleed him when two surgeons came up. I handed over my
charge and ran back to my company, and had the honour of being at the
finishing stroke.
As soon as the battle was done, Lieutenant-Colonel Gilmore and the
surgeon came to me and requested me to go and take charge of the
Colonel. I must tell you that Colonel Barnard for his great gallantry
was made Prince of Wales's aide-de-camp. He is also a man of family
and interest, and universally beloved by the regiment. I went to him
and commenced as a surgeon. I bled him occasionally when the symptoms
required it, and had the entire treatment of him. In ten days he began
to recover, and has done so well that he is now out of danger. I daily
wrote reports of him, which were shown at headquarters. Lord Wellington
was particularly anxious about him. The most eminent surgeons in the
army have paid me high compliments for my treatment, and the Colonel
has not suffered any one to interfere with me.
Five days back we removed to this place, the headquarters of the army.
I dined the other day with Lord Wellington, and have since dined at the
tables of the first men of distinction in the army. I shall stay at
this place for a fortnight, and then return to my regiment. To gain the
friendship of a man of Colonel Barnard's ability, who will next year be
a General Officer, will always be of use.
Joe is very well. He behaved himself most gallantly, I assure you. The
regiment are very proud of him, and in my absence he is invited to dine
out frequently. Joe sticks by me. I got him placed in another company,
as the boy wanted me to take care of his money and concerns. As I am
a bird of passage, I wished to teach him how to take care of himself,
for fear he might be deprived of me one day or another; he then would
be at a loss. He lived away from me for a fortnight, that was, he paid
to another mess, but whenever I had anything good I always found Joe
present. I therefore told him he might live with me, but he should pay
regularly and keep his own accounts, which he agreed to. Since I left
the regiment he still lives with my captain, with whom he is a great
favourite. I have a note from him daily about some nonsense or another.
The last two fights cost us about four officers killed and wounded;
we have been very lucky in not having more. Joe is now at the top of
the list, and will be a lieutenant in two or three months, which will
give him ten dollars a month more. I gave him a horse to ride. He has
another for his baggage. If I have a fine jacket or anything _dressy_,
he manages to make friends with my servant to use them. I have got the
name of an old fellow. All the women say I am his father and laugh when
I tell them he is my brother. I had almost forgot Maud. He is well, and
I mean him to spend his Christmas with me if we are quiet. I anticipate
the happiness we shall enjoy. If we could spend it under your humble
roof, how much more happy we should be. However, you will have the
satisfaction to know that your sons are moving in an honourable sphere
of life, and their good fortune ought not to make them forget (though
in a distant clime) those dear ties that can never be divided but by
death. We are six months in arrear, and I have been at much expense
this year. When I can raise a little money I shall send it. I hope
my dear Ann is well, also Charlie and Betsy. When Charlie is fifteen
I shall be able to provide for him. Three years more will give me a
company. I then shall be able to maintain you handsomely. Something
may turn out before. I do not like to build castles in the air. I hope
my uncle is well. My best respects to him. It will give me pleasure in
letting him read my letters, but do not make my affairs known to the
world, I beg of you. Accept my earnest prayers. I am, my dear parents,
yours affectionately,
Geo. Simmons.
If the weather becomes good, I think the army will advance. The French
people do not offer to kill any British soldiers and we behave to the
people the same as if we were in England. The Spaniards were sent back
into their own country, as they began plundering, which Lord Wellington
would not allow. It is much better policy to use the inhabitants well.
If you did otherwise, the whole country would be in arms, and a soldier
durst not go a hundred paces from the battalion without being liable to
be murdered by some injured connection, whose misfortunes had driven
him to desperation. The French through their horrid atrocities made
themselves hated everywhere. This circumstance alone has been of great
use in making the nations, subjugated by these monsters, throw off
the yoke, or perish in the attempt. Fortunately they are succeeding
beyond human calculation. The God of Battles is now inflicting this
just judgment upon the French. Write soon and let me know how Charlie
improves; Betsy also. Educate them well, I beg of you.
As there is every likelihood of a peace taking place, I shall endeavour
(if such a circumstance should happen) to get into the service of some
country allied with England after taking my pleasures in England for
some time, as I am determined to spend my life and to advance myself,
as a soldier. However, there is time enough before this project need be
resorted to.
We expect another fight in a few days. I hope we shall soon be in
possession of Bayonne. The foreign corps in the enemy's army, if they
have an opportunity, will, I have no doubt, come over in bodies.
To be addressed, Lt. Simmons, 1st Batt., 95th Regt., Light Division,
British Army, France.
CAMPAIGN OF 1814
Early in February 1814, Wellington, leaving a strong force to invest
Bayonne, resumed the offensive, and having successfully passed a
portion of his forces across the Adour and the Gaves, he fell upon
Soult at Orthez and severely defeated him. Soult fell back slowly,
but after a fight at Vic Bigorre it became clear to him that he must
retreat on Toulouse.
Three miles from Tarbes he formed for battle once again, with Clausel
in front of him, covering that town with Harispe's and Villatte's
Divisions. Wellington, following up, launched the Light Division
against the centre of the French position. The three Battalions of
the Rifles who were in the van, made a violent attack on Harispe's
Division and drove it from an exceptionally strong position without
assistance.
Clausel made a skilful withdrawal upon Soult, and the latter retreated
during the night.
Then ensued the operations on the Garronne which terminated in the
battle of Toulouse, fought on 10th April. A few days later the news of
the abdication of Napoleon arrived, and with it hostilities ceased,
but not before the garrison of Bayonne had made a desperate sortie, in
which many hundreds of lives were uselessly sacrificed.
There exists no more pathetic description of the treatment meted out
by England to her soldiers, who had, by their gallantry and devotion,
rescued Europe from the tyranny of Napoleon, than the words with which
Napier brings to a close his stirring account of the long and bloody
struggle in the Peninsula. "... The British infantry embarked at
Bordeaux, some for America, some for England; the cavalry, marching
through France, took shipping at Boulogne.
"Thus the war terminated, and with it, all remembrance of the
veterans' services.
"Yet those veterans had won nineteen pitched battles and innumerable
combats; had made or sustained ten sieges and taken four great
fortresses; had twice expelled the French from Portugal, once from
Spain; had penetrated France, and killed, wounded, or captured 200,000
enemies, leaving of their own number 40,000 dead, whose bones whiten
the plains and mountains of the Peninsula."
It was not till 1848, _thirty-four_ years after the termination of
the war, that the services of the few veterans who then survived was
acknowledged by the issue of a medal!