We sailed under convoy of the Madagascar frigate, commanded by Captain
Curtis; and, after a favourable voyage, we arrived at Passages. Our
stay there was short, for we were ordered to join the army without loss
of time. In three hours we got fairly into camp, where we were
received with loud cheers by our brothers in arms.
The whole British army was here under canvas; our allies, the Spaniards
and Portuguese, being in the rear. About the middle of October, to our
great delight, the army received orders to cross the Bidassoa. At three
o'clock on the morning of the 15th our regiment advanced through a
difficult country, and, after a harassing march, reached the top of a
hill as the gray light of morning began to dawn. We marched in
profound silence, but with a pleasurable feeling of excitement amongst
all ranks at the thought of meeting the enemy, and perhaps with not an
equally agreeable idea that we might be in the next world before the
day was over.
As we ascended the rugged side of the hill, I saw, for the first time,
the immortal Wellington. He was accompanied by the Spanish General,
Alava, Lord Fitzroy Somerset, and Major, afterwards Colonel Freemantle.
He was very stern and grave-looking; he was in deep meditation, so long
as I kept him in view, and spoke to no one. His features were bold,
and I saw much decision of character in his expression. He rode a
knowing-looking, thorough-bred horse, and wore a gray overcoat, Hessian
boots, and a large cocked hat. We commenced the passage of the Bidassoa
about five in the morning, and in a short time infantry, cavalry, and
artillery found themselves upon French ground. The stream at the point
we forded was nearly four feet deep, and had Soult been aware of what
we were about, we should have found the passage of the river a very
arduous undertaking.
Three miles above, we discovered the French army, and ere long found
ourselves under fire. The sensation of being made a target to a large
body of men is at first not particularly pleasant, but "in a trice, the
ear becomes more Irish and less nice." The first man I ever saw killed
was a Spanish soldier, who was cut in two by a cannon ball. The French
army, not long after we began to return their fire, was in full
retreat; and after a little sharp, but desultory fighting, in which our
Division met with some loss, we took possession of the camp and strong
position of Soult's army. We found the soldiers' huts very
comfortable; they were built of branches of trees and furze, and formed
squares and streets, which had names placarded up, such as Rue de
Paris, Rue de Versailles, &c. We were not sorry to find ourselves in
such commodious quarters, as well as being well housed. The scenery
surrounding the camp was picturesque and grand. From our elevated
position, immediately in front, we commanded a wide and extensive
plain, intersected by two important rivers, the Nive and the Nivelle.
On the right, the lofty Pyrenees, with their grand and varied outline,
stood forth conspicuously in a blue, cloudless sky; on our left was the
Bay of Biscay, with our cruisers perpetually on the move.
We witnessed from the camp, one night about twelve o'clock, a fight at
sea, between an English brig and a French corvette, which was leaving
the Adour with provisions and ammunition. She was chased by the brig,
and brought to action. The night was sufficiently clear to enable us
to discover distinctly the position of the vessels and the measured
flash of their guns. They were at close quarters, and in less than
half an hour we discovered the crew of the corvette taking to their
boats. Shortly afterwards the vessel blew up with a loud explosion. We
came to the conclusion that sea-fighting was more agreeable than
land-fighting, as the crews of the vessels engaged without previous
heavy marching, and with loose light clothing; there was no manoeuvring
or standing for hours on the defensive; the wounded were immediately
taken below and attended to, and the whole affair was over in a
pleasingly brief period.