CHAPTER IV.
Thatthe connection of the narrative might not be interrupted, I have detailed, in the preceding chapter, the events attendant upon the assault and capture of St Sebastian, instead of drawing the reader's attention to the movements of the particular corps to which I chanced to be attached. These, however, are soon related. On the evening of the 26th an order arrived, by which we were directed to march on the following day, and to join that division of the army which occupied the pass of Irun. It was promptly obeyed; and after an agreeable journey of four hours, we took up our abode in a barren valley, surrounded on every side by steep and rugged mountains, where we found huts already erected for our accommodation.
We remained here in a state of quiet till the morning of the 30th, when, at three o'clock, an aide-de-camp arrived in the camp with directions for us instantly to retrace our steps, and to join the army before St Sebastian. We were perfectly awarethat the town was to be stormed on the following day, and, of course, were not reluctant to obey a command which led us to the assistance of our comrades. The ranks were accordingly formed with goodwill, and by seven o'clock we had reached our ground.
It was the design of Sir Thomas Graham to embark a detachment of troops in the boats of the fleet, who should assault the castle at the moment when the main body moved from the trenches. The corps to which I belonged was selected for this purpose. But on reconnoitring the face of the cliff, it was at once perceived that, to make any attempt of the kind, would only devote to certain destruction the luckless detachment which should be so employed. This part of the plan was accordingly abandoned; and a few boats only being manned, for the purpose of making a feint, and for causing, if possible, a diversion, the remainder, with the exception of such as were chosen to accompany the storming party, returned, by the morrow's dawn, to the front.
I have already stated that the morning of the 31st rose darkly and gloomily, and that, just as the besiegers had begun to fill the trenches, a storm burst forth. It continued to increase in violence and sublimity every moment; so that, when our leading files emerged from their cover, one of themost fearful thunderstorms to which I ever listened had attained its height. Nor was this the only circumstance which added to the terrors of that eventful day. Marshal Soult, aware of the importance of St Sebastian, and full of that confidence which a late appointment to command generally bestows, made on the 31st a desperate effort to raise the siege. At the head of a column of fifteen thousand infantry he crossed the Bidassoa near Irun, and attacked with great spirit the heights of St Marcial. These were defended only by Spanish troops, which gave way almost immediately, and were driven to the tops of the hills; but here, seeing a brigade or two of British troops in reserve, they rallied, and maintained their ground with considerable resolution. By this means it so happened that, whilst one division of the army was hotly engaged in the assault of St Sebastian, the divisions in front were in desperate strife with the troops of Marshal Soult; while the heavens thundered in an awful manner, and the rain fell in torrents. In one word, it was a day never to be forgotten by those who witnessed its occurrence—it was a day which I, at least, shall never forget.
It is impossible to describe, with any degree of fidelity, the appearance which St Sebastian presented when the dawn of the 1st of September rendered objects visible. The streets, which had lately beencovered with the living as well as the dead, were now left to the occupation of the latter; and these were so numerous, that it puzzled the beholder to guess where so many sleeping men could have found room to lie. The troops, however, returned not, with the return of light, to their accustomed state of discipline. Their strength being recruited by sleep, and their senses restored, they applied themselves with greater diligence than ever to the business of plunder. Of the houses few now remained, except in a state of ruin; but even the ruins were explored with the most rapacious eagerness, not so much for jewels and other valuables as for wine and spirits. Unfortunately, many cellars were this day discovered, which, in the hurry and confusion of last night, had escaped detection; and the consequence was, that in the space of a very few hours intoxication once more prevailed throughout the army.
Of St Sebastian, and the proceedings within it, I can say no more from personal observation, my post being now with the advance of the army; but I may as well add, that the castle still held out, and continued so to do, till the 8th of September. It was, however, as we afterwards discovered, wholly unprovided with shelter against the shells which were unintermittingly thrown into it; and hence, after suffering every possible misery during a wholeweek, the governor was at last obliged to surrender. About nine hundred men, the remains of a garrison of four thousand, became by this measure prisoners of war, and such British prisoners as had escaped the horrors of the siege were recaptured; but the place itself was utterly valueless, being in a state of the most complete dilapidation.
The whole of the 1st of September was spent under arms, and in a state of deep anxiety, by the troops which occupied the pass of Irun, inasmuch as various movements in the French lines appeared to indicate a renewal of hostilities. Many bullock-cars, laden with wounded Spaniards, passed in the meanwhile through our encampment; and the groans and shrieks of these poor fellows, as the jolting of their uneasy vehicles shook their wounds open afresh, by no means tended to elevate the spirits, or add to the courage of those who heard them. Not that there was any reluctance on our part to engage: I believe a reluctance to fight was never felt by Britons when the enemy were in sight; but a few of the real effects of war, contemplated in a moment of coolness and inaction, seldom has the effect of adding fuel to the valorous fire which is supposed at all moments to burn in the breast of a soldier; and, in truth, this was a piteous sight.
Of all the classes of men with whom I ever hadintercourse, the Spanish surgeons are, I think, the most ignorant and the most prejudiced. Among the many amputations which during the war they were called upon to perform, about one-half, or more than half, proved fatal. Their mode of dressing other wounds was, moreover, at once clumsy and inefficient; and hence the mangled wretches who passed us this morning were not only suffering acutely from the natural effect of their hurts, but were put to more than ordinary torture on account of the clumsy and rude manner in which their hurts had been looked to.
Though I have no intention of writing a history of the campaigns of 1813 and 1814, it is necessary, for the purpose of rendering my journal intelligible, to give, in this stage of it, some account of the relative situations of the British and French armies.
The two kingdoms of France and Spain are divided, towards the shores of the Bay of Biscay, by the river Bidassoa—an inconsiderable stream, which, rising about the centre of the Peninsula, follows the winding course of one of those many valleys with which the Pyrenees abound, and falls into the sea near the ancient town of Fontarabia. The Bidassoa is perfectly fordable in almost all places, at the distance of ten miles from its mouth; whilst immediately opposite to Fontarabia itself there is one part where, at low tide, a passage may be effected, thewater reaching only to the chest of him who crosses. About two or three miles from Irun, which is distant something less than a league from Fontarabia, is another ford, across which a bridge had been built, but which, at the period of my narrative, was in ruins; consequently, there were two separate fords leading to the pass of Irun, by both or either of which an army might advance with safety.
On either side of this little stream, the mountains, except at the passes of Irun, Roncesvalles, &c., rise so abruptly as to form an almost impassable barrier between the one kingdom and the other. The scenery of the Bidassoa is, in consequence, romantic and striking in the extreme; for not only are the faces of the hills steep and rugged, but they are clothed, here and there, with the most luxuriant herbage; whilst frequent streams pouring down from the summits, form, especially after rain, cascades that are exceedingly picturesque, and in some instances almost sublime. The river itself is clear, and rapid in its course—winding, as mountain streams generally do, where hills come in to impede their progress; and that it is not deficient in excellent trout, I am still a living witness, having, with my friend Captain Grey, more than once fished it.
At the period of which I am now speaking, the armies of Lord Wellington and Marshal Soult occupied the opposite banks of this little stream. Ourpickets were stationed on the rise of the Spanish hills; those of the French on the faces of their own mountains; whilst the advanced sentinels were divided only by the river, which measured, in many places, not more than thirty yards across. But the French, whatever their faults may be, are a noble enemy. The most perfect understanding prevailed between them and us, by which not only the sentries continued free from danger, but the pickets themselves were safe from wanton surprisal; no attack upon an outpost being under any other circumstances thought of, unless it was meant to be followed up by a general engagement.
For myself, my situation was, as I have already stated, in a bleak valley, distant nearly three miles from the river, and surrounded on every side by bold and barren precipices. In such a place there was little either to interest or amuse; for of the French army we could see nothing; and of game, in quest of which I regularly proceeded, there was a woeful scarcity. There, however, we remained till the morning of the 5th, without any event occurring worthy of notice, unless a fortunate purchase of two excellent milch-goats, which I effected from a Spanish peasant, be deemed such. But on that day our position was changed; and the glorious scenery to which the march introduced us far more than compensated for the fatigues occasioned by it.
It is by no means the least pleasing circumstance in the life of a soldier upon active service that he never knows, when he awakes in the morning, where he is to sleep at night. Once set in motion, and, like any other machine, he moves till the power which regulates his movements shall call a halt; and wherever that halt may occur, there, for the present, is his home. Such a man has not upon his mind the shadow of a care; for the worst bed which he can meet with is the turf; and he seldom enjoys a better than his cloak or blanket. Give him but a tent—and with tents the commander of the forces had lately supplied us—and he is in luxury; at least as long as the summer lasts, or the weather continues moderate; nor had we as yet experienced any blasts against which our tents furnished not a sufficient shelter.
The sun was just rising on the morning of the 5th of September when our tents were struck, the line of march formed, and ourselvesen routetowards the base of one of the highest hills which hemmed us in on every side. Along the face of this mountain was cut a narrow winding path, for the accommodation, in all probability, of goatherds or muleteers, who contrive to transport articles of luxury and clothing into the wildest districts where human inhabitants are to be found. It was, however, so rough and so precipitous, as effectually tohinder our men from preserving anything like order in their ranks; and thus caused a battalion of little more than six hundred bayonets to cover an extent of ground measuring, from front to rear, not less than three quarters of a mile. Of course the fatigue of climbing, loaded as we were with arms, ammunition, and necessaries, was great; and as the heat of the day increased it became almost intolerable. But we toiled on in good spirits, hoping that each vale or level at which we arrived would prove the place of our rest, and not a little delighted with the romantic scenery to which every turning in the road introduced us.
We had continued this arduous journey during five hours, when, on reaching the summit of an isolated green hill, at the back of the ridge already described, four mounted officers crossed us, one of them riding a little ahead of the rest, who, on the contrary, kept together. He who rode in front was a thin, well-made man, apparently of the middle stature, and not yet past the prime of life. His dress was a plain grey frock, buttoned close to the chin; a cocked-hat, covered with oilskin; grey pantaloons, with boots, buckled at the side; and a steel-mounted light sabre. Though I knew not who he was, there was a brightness in his eye which bespoke him something more than an aide-de-camp or a general of brigade; nor was I long left in doubt. Therewere in the ranks many veterans who had served in the Peninsula during some of the earlier campaigns; these instantly recognised their old leader, and the cry of "Duro, Duro!" the familiar title given by the soldiers to the Duke of Wellington, was raised. This was followed by reiterated shouts, to which he replied by taking off his hat and bowing; when, after commending the appearance of the corps, and chatting for a moment with the commanding officer, he advised that a halt should take place where we were, and rode on.
As I had never seen the great Captain of the day before, it will be readily imagined that I looked at him on the present occasion with a degree of admiration and respect such as a soldier of seventeen years of age, devoted to his profession, is likely to feel for the man whom he regards as its brightest ornament. There was in his general aspect nothing indicative of a life spent in hardships and fatigues; nor any expression of care or anxiety in his countenance. On the contrary, his cheek, though bronzed with frequent exposure to the sun, had on it the ruddy hue of health, while a smile of satisfaction played about his mouth, and told, more plainly than words could have spoken, how perfectly he felt himself at his ease. Of course I felt, as I gazed upon him, that an army under his command could not be beaten; and I had frequentopportunities afterwards of perceiving how far such a feeling goes towards preventing a defeat. Let troops only place perfect confidence in him who leads them, and the sight of him, at the most trying moment, is worth a fresh brigade.
In compliance with the recommendation of Lord Wellington, the corps halted on the beautiful green hill to which it had attained; but two full hours elapsed ere the baggage came up. In the mean time, by far the greater number among us, myself included, threw ourselves down upon the grass, and fell fast asleep; from which we were not roused till the arrival of the tents summoned us to the not less agreeable occupation of boiling our kettles and preparing breakfast. This was quickly commenced; and having satisfied the cravings of hunger, we dispelled every source of annoyance to which we were subject.