We expected to remain quietly in our winter quarters at St. Jean de
Luz; but, to our surprise, early one morning, we were aroused from
sleep by the beating of the drum calling us to arms. We were soon in
marching order. It appeared that our outposts had been severely pushed
by the French, and we were called upon to support our companions in
arms.
The whole of the British army, as well as the division of the Guards,
had commenced a forward movement. Soult, seeing this, entirely changed
his tactics, and from that time, viz. the 9th of December, a series of
engagements took place. The fighting on the 9th was comparatively
insignificant. When we were attacked on the 10th, the Guards held the
mayor's house, and the grounds and orchards attached: this was an
important station.
Large bodies of the enemy's infantry approached, and, after desultory
fighting, succeeded in penetrating our position, when many hand-to-hand
combats ensued. Towards the afternoon, officers and men having
displayed great gallantry, we drove the enemy from the ground which
they courageously disputed with us, and from which they eventually
retreated to Bayonne. Every day there was constant fighting along the
whole of our line, which extended from the sea to the lower Pyrenees--a
distance probably not less than thirty miles.
On the 11th, we only exchanged a few shots, but on the 12th Soult
brought into action from fifteen to twenty thousand men, and attacked
our left with a view of breaking our line. One of the most remarkable
incidents of the 12th was the fact of an English battalion being
surrounded by a division of French in the neighbourhood of the mayor's
house--which, as before observed, was one of our principal strategical
positions. The French commanding officer, believing that no attempt
would be made to resist, galloped up to the officer of the British
regiment, and demanded his sword. Upon this, without the least
hesitation, the British officer shouted out, "This fellow wants us to
surrender: charge, my boys! and show them what stuff we are made of."
Instantaneously, a hearty cheer rang out, and our men rushed forward
impetuously, drove off the enemy at the point of the bayonet, and soon
disposed of the surrounding masses. In a few minutes they had taken
prisoners, or killed, the whole of the infantry regiment opposed to
them.
On the 13th was fought the bloody battle of the Nivelle. Soult had
determined to make a gigantic effort to drive us back into Spain.
During the night of the 12th, he rapidly concentrated about sixty
thousand troops in front of Sir Rowland Hill's corps d'armee,
consisting of 15,000 men, who occupied a very strong position, which
was defended by some of the best artillery in the world. At daybreak
Sir Rowland Hill was astonished to find himself threatened by masses of
infantry advancing over a country luckily intersected by rivulets,
hedges, and woods, which prevented the enemy from making a rapid
advance; whilst, at the same time, it was impossible on such ground to
employ cavalry. Sir Rowland, availing himself of an elevated position,
hurriedly surveyed his ground, and concentrated his men at such points
as he knew the nature of the field would induce the enemy to attack.
The French, confident of success from their superior numbers, came
gallantly up, using the bayonet for the first time in a premeditated
attack; Our men stood their ground, and for hours acted purely on the
defensive; being sustained by the admirable practice of our artillery,
whose movements no difficulty of ground could, on this occasion,
impede, so efficiently were the guns horsed, and so perfect was the
training of the officers. It was not until mid-day that the enemy
became discouraged at finding that they were unable to make any serious
impression on our position; they then retired in good order, Sir
Rowland Hill not daring to follow them.
Lord Wellington arrived just in time to witness the end of the battle;
and while going over the field with Sir Rowland Hill, he remarked that
he had never seen so many men hors de combat in so small a space.
I must not omit to mention a circumstance which occurred during this
great fight, alike illustrative of cowardice and of courage. The
colonel of an infantry regiment, who shall be nameless, being hard
pressed, showed a disposition not only to run away himself, but to
order his regiment to retire. In fact, a retrograde movement had
commenced, when my gallant and dear friend Lord Charles Spencer,
aide-de-camp to Sir William Stewart, dashed forward, and, seizing the
colours of the regiment, exclaimed, "If your colonel will not lead you,
follow me, my boys." The gallantry of this youth, then only eighteen
years of age, so animated the regiment, and restored their confidence,
that they rallied and shared in the glory of the day.