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 LIBRARY 
 
 Uf4IVEliSlTY OF 
 CALIFOfNlA 
 
y 
 
 THE 
 
 SUBALTERN. 
 
 Little of this great world can I speak. 
 
 More than pertains to feata of broil and battle ; 
 And therefore little shall I grace my cause. 
 In speaking for myself. 
 
 Othello. 
 
 O 
 
 WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, EDINBURGH 
 AND T. CADELL, LONDON. 
 M.DCCCXXV. 
 
GrSr 
 
 THE 
 
 SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 It is now something more than twelve years ago 
 
 since the regiment of infantry, in which I 
 
 bore a commission, began to muster one fine May 
 morning, on the parade ground at Hythe. An or- 
 der had reached us two days before, to prepare for 
 immediate service in the Peninsula ; and on the 
 morning to which I allude, we were to commence 
 our march for that purpose. The point of embark- 
 ation was Dover, a port only twelve miles distant 
 from our cantonments, where a couple of trans- 
 ports, with a gun-brig as convoy, were waiting to 
 receive us. 
 
 The short space of time which intervened between 
 the arrival of the route, and the eventful day which 
 saw its directions carried into effect, was spent by 
 
 A 
 
 501 
 
2 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 myself, and by my brother officers, in making the 
 best preparations which circumstances would per- 
 mit for a campaign. Sundry little pieces of fur- 
 niture, by the help of which we had contrived to 
 render our barrack-rooms somewhat habitable, 
 were sold for one tenth part of their value ; a se- 
 lection was made from our respective wardrobes, 
 of such articles of apparel, as, being in a state of 
 tolerable preservation, promised to continue for the 
 longest time serviceable; canteens were hastily 
 fitted up, and stored with tea, sugar, and other luxu- 
 ries ; cloaks were purchased by those who pos- 
 sessed them not before, and put in a state of repair 
 by those who did ; in a word, everything was done 
 which could be done by men similarly situated, 
 not even forgetting the payment of debts, or the 
 inditing of farewell letters in due form to absent 
 friends and relations. Perhaps the reader may be 
 curious to know with what stock of necessaries the 
 generality of British officers were wont, in the stir- 
 ring times of war, to be contented. I will tell him 
 how much I myself packed up in two small port- 
 manteaus, so formed as to be an equal balance to 
 each other, when slung across the back of a mule ; 
 and as my kit was not remarkable, either for its 
 bulk or its scantiness, he will not greatly err, if he 
 esteem it a sort of medium for those of my com- 
 rades. 
 
CHAPTER I. 3 
 
 In one of these portmanteaus, then, I deposited 
 a regimental jacket, with all its appendages of 
 wings, lace, &c. ; two pair of grey trowsers ; sun- 
 . dry waistcoats, white, coloured, and flannel ; a few 
 changes of flannel drawers ; half a dozen pairs of 
 worsted stockings, and as many of cotton. In the 
 other were placed six shirts, two or three cravats, 
 a dressing-case competently filled, one undress pe- 
 lisse, three pairs of boots, two pairs of shoes, with 
 night-caps, pocket-handkerchiefs, &c. &c. in pro- 
 portion. Thus, whilst I was not encumbered by 
 any useless quantity of apparel, I carried with me 
 quite enough to load a mule, and to ensure myself 
 against the danger of falling short, for at least a 
 couple of years to come ; and after providing these 
 and all other necessary articles, I retained five- 
 and-twenty pounds in my pocket. This sum, in- 
 deed, when converted into bullion, dwindled down 
 to L.17, 18s. ; for in those days we purchased dol- 
 lars at the rate of six shillings a-piece, and dou- 
 bloons at five pounds ; but even L.IT, 18s. was no 
 bad reserve for a subaltern ofiicer in a marching 
 regiment ; at least I was contented with it, and that 
 was enough. 
 
 It will readily be imagined that I v/as a great 
 deal too busy, both in body and mind, to devote to 
 sleep many of the hours of the night which pre- 
 ceded the day of our intended departure. My bo- 
 
4 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 dily labours, indeed, which had consisted chiefly 
 in packing my baggage, and bidding adieu to the 
 few civilians with whom I had formed an acquaint- 
 ance, came to a close two hours before midnight ; 
 but my body was no sooner at rest, than my mind 
 began to bestir itself. " So," said I, " to-morrow 
 I commence my military career in real earnest." 
 Well, and had not this been my most ardent de- 
 sire from the first moment that I saw my name in 
 the Gazette ? Had it not been the most prominent 
 petition in my daily prayers, for nearly a twelve- 
 month past, not to be kept idling away my youth 
 in the various country- towns of England, but to be 
 sent, as speedily as possible, where I might have 
 an opportunity of acquiring a practical knowledge 
 of the profession which I had embraced ? The case 
 is even so. And without meaning to proclaim my- 
 self a fire-eater, I will venture to say, that no in- 
 dividual in the corps experienced greater satisfac- 
 tion than I did at the prospect before me. But 
 there were other thoughts which obtruded them- 
 selves upon me that night, and they savoured a good 
 deal of the melancholy. 
 
 I thought of home — of my father, my mother, 
 and my sisters. I thought of the glorious moun- 
 tains, and the fertile plains, of my native country, 
 and could not help asking myself the question, 
 whether it was probable that I should ever behold 
 
CHAPTER I. 5: 
 
 them again. The chances were, that I should not ; 
 and as my home had always been to me a scene of 
 the purest and most perfect happiness, as I loved 
 my relatives tenderly, and knew that I was ten- 
 derly beloved by them in return, it was impossi- 
 ble for me not to experience a pang of extreme bit- 
 terness at the idea, that in all human probability I 
 should see their faces no more. 
 
 On the other hand, curiosity, if I may call it by 
 so feeble a term, was on full stretch respecting the 
 future. Now at length I was about to learn what 
 war really was ; how hostile armies met, and bat- 
 tles were decided ; and the resolutions which I con- 
 sequently formed as to my own proceedings, the 
 eagerness with which I longed for an opportunity 
 to distinguish myself, and the restlessness of my 
 imagination, which persisted in drawing the most 
 ridiculous pictures of events which never were, and 
 never could be realized, created altogether such a 
 fever in my brain, as rendered abortive every at- 
 tempt to sleep. I went to bed at ten o'clock, for 
 the purpose of securing a good night's rest, and 
 of being fresh and vigorous in the morning; but 
 eleven, twelve, and one, found me tossing about, 
 and quite awake ; nor could I have lain in a state 
 of unconsciousness much above an hour, when the 
 sound of the bugle restored me to my senses. 
 
 At the first blast I sprang from my bed, and, draw- 
 
6 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 ing aside the curtain of my window, I looked out. 
 The day was just beginning to break ; the parade 
 ground, into which I gazed, was as yet empty, only 
 two or three figures, those of the trumpeters, who 
 were puffing away with all their might, being dis- 
 cernible upon it ; and not a sound could be distin- 
 guished, except that which their puffing produced. 
 The moon was shining brightly over-head — not a 
 breath of air was astir — in short, it was just half 
 past three o'clock, and the time of parade was four. 
 I dropped the curtain again, and addressed myself 
 to my toilette. 
 
 Having completed this, I waited for the second 
 summons, when I walked forth. Were I to live a 
 hundred years, I shall never forget that morning. 
 Day had dawned, that is to say, the light of the 
 moon was overpowered by the increasing bril- 
 liancy of the twilight ; but a thick haze, rising from 
 the low grounds, rendered objects even more in- 
 distinct and obscure than they had been half an 
 hour before. When I opened my door, therefore, 
 though a confused hum of voices, a clattering of 
 canteens, the tread of footsteps, and occasionally 
 the clash of arms, struck upon my ear, I could see 
 nothing. This did not, however, last long. The 
 rising sun gradually dispelled the fog, and in a few 
 moments I beheld companies mustering in all form. 
 Mingling in the ranks, I could likewise distin- 
 
CHAPTER T. 
 
 guish the dress of females ; and as the noise of as- 
 sembling gradually subsided into the stillness of 
 order, the half-suppressed shriek, and the half-sti- 
 fled sob, became more and more audible. 
 
 There are not many scenes in human life more 
 striking or more harrowing to the feelings of him 
 who regards it for the first time, than the departure 
 of a regiment upon foreign service. By the customs 
 of the army only six women for each company are 
 allowed to follow their husbands, who are chosen 
 by lot out of perhaps twenty or thirty. The cast- 
 ing of lots is usually deferred till, at least, the even- 
 ing previous to the marching of the corps, proba- 
 bly with the humane design of leaving to each fe- 
 male, as long as it can be left, the enjoyment of 
 that greatest of all earthly blessings, hope. The 
 consequence then is, that a full sense of her for- 
 lorn condition coming all at once upon the wretch- 
 ed creature who is to be abandoned, produces, in 
 many instances, a violence of grief, the display of 
 which it is impossible to witness with any de- 
 gree of indifference. Many Avere the agonizing 
 scenes of the kind which it was my fortune this 
 day to witness ; but there was one so peculiarly 
 distressing, so much more affecting in all its points 
 than the rest, that I am tempted to give a detail of 
 it, even at the risk of being thought the writer of a 
 romance, I recollect having read in that amusing 
 
8 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 work, " The Hermit in the Country,'' an anecdote 
 very similar in many respects, to the one which I 
 am now going to relate. The reader is not, how- 
 ever, to suppose, that the two stories bear a com- 
 mon origin, namely the imaginations of those by 
 whom they are told. The worthy Hermit's tale 
 probably rests upon no better foundation ; but 
 mine is a true story, and its truth will no doubt be 
 attested by several of my readers : that is, suppo- 
 sing me to have any readers in the regiment 
 
 of foot. 
 
 About three months previous to the day of em- 
 barkation, a batch of recruits had joined the regi- 
 ment from Scotland. Among them was a remark- 
 ably fine young Highlander ; a native, if I recol- 
 lect right, of Balquidder, called Duncan Stewart. 
 Duncan was in all respects a good soldier ; he was 
 clean, sober, orderly, and well behaved; but he 
 seemed to be of a singularly melancholy temper ; 
 never mixing in the sports and amusements of his 
 comrades, nor even speaking except when he was 
 obliged to speak. It so happened that the pay- 
 serjeant of Duncan's company was likewise a High- 
 lander ; and Highlanders being of all description 
 of persons the most national, he very soon began 
 to interest himself about the fate of the young re- 
 cruit. At first Duncan shrunk back even from his 
 advances, but it is not natural for the human heart, 
 
CHAPTER I. 9 
 
 especially during tlie season of youth, to continue 
 long indifferent to acts of kindness ; so Duncan 
 gradually permitted honest M'Intyre to insinuate 
 himself into his good graces ; and they became, be- 
 fore long, bosom friends. 
 
 When they had continued for some weeks on a 
 footing of intimacy, Duncan did not scruple to 
 make his friend the serjeant acquainted with the 
 cause of his dejection. It was simply this : — 
 
 Duncan was the son of a Highland farmer, Avho, 
 like many of his countrymen in that situation, cul- 
 tivated barley for the purpose of making whisky ; 
 in plain language, was a determined smuggler. 
 Not far from the abode of Stewart, dwelt an ex- 
 ciseman of the name of Young, who, being ex- 
 tremely active in the discharge of his duty, had on 
 various occasions made seizure of his neighbours' 
 kegs as they were on their march towards the low- 
 countries. This was an offence which the High- 
 lander, of course, could not forgive ; and there 
 accordingly subsisted between the smuggler and 
 the ganger, a degree of antipathy far surpassing 
 anything of which it is easy for us to form a con- 
 ception. It must, however, be confessed, that the 
 feeling of hatred was all on one side. Stewart 
 hated Young for presuming to interfere with his 
 honest calling ; and despised him, because he had 
 the misfortune to be born in the shire of Renfrew ; 
 
 a2 
 
10 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 whereas Young was disposed to behave civilly to 
 his neighbour, on every occasion except when his 
 whisky casks happened to come in the way. 
 
 Ganger Young had an only and a very pretty 
 daughter, a girl of eighteen years of age, with 
 whom Duncan, as a matter of course, fell in love. 
 The maiden returned his love, at which I am by 
 no means surprised, for a handsomer or more man- 
 ly-looking youth one would not desire to see ; but 
 alas ! old Stewart would not hear of their union ; 
 absolutely commanding his son, under penalty of 
 his heaviest malediction, not to think of her again. 
 The authority of parents over their children, even 
 after they have grown up to the age of manhood, 
 is in Scotland very great ; so Duncan would not 
 dispute his father's will, and finding all entreaty 
 to alter it useless, he determined to sacrifice incli- 
 nation to duty, and to meet his pretty Mary no. 
 more. 
 
 To this resolution he adhered for several days, 
 but, to use his own words, " Gang where I would, 
 and do what I liket, I aye saw her before me. I 
 saw her once, to tell her what my father had said ; 
 indeed, we were baith gay sure how it would be, 
 before I spak to him ava ; and oh ! the look she 
 gae me, M'Intyre, I ne'er forgot it, and I never 
 can forget it. It haunted me like a ghaist baith 
 night and day." 
 
CHAPTER I. 11 
 
 The consequence of constantly beholding such a 
 vision may easily be imagined. Duncan forgot 
 his determination and his duty, and found himself 
 one evening, he scarce knew how, once more walk- 
 ing with Mary by the loch side. This occurred 
 again and again. The meetings were the more 
 sweet because they were secret, and they ended — 
 as such stolen meetings generally end among per- 
 sons of their station in life. Duncan was assured 
 of becoming a father, before he was a husband. 
 
 This, however, was not to be permitted ; Dun- 
 can was too tenderly attached to Mary, to suffer 
 disgrace to fall upon her, even though he should 
 incur the threatened penalty of a father's curse by 
 marrying, so he resolved, at all hazards, to make 
 her his wife. The reader is no doubt aware, that 
 marriages are much more easily contracted in Scot- 
 land, than on the south side of the Tweed. An ex- 
 change of lines, as it is called, that is to say, a mu- 
 tual agreement to live as man and wife, drawn up 
 and signed by a young man and a young woman, 
 constitutes as indisputable a union in North Bri- 
 tain, as if the marriage ceremony had been read 
 or uttered by a clergyman ; and to this method of 
 uniting their destinies Duncan and Mary had re- 
 course. They addressed a letter, the one to the 
 other, in which he acknowledged her to be his 
 wife, and she acknowledged him to be her bus- 
 
12 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 band ; and, having made an exchange of them, 
 they became to all intents and purposes a married 
 couple. 
 
 Having thus gone in direct opposition to the 
 will of his father, Duncan was by no means easy 
 in his own mind. He well knew the unforgiving 
 temper of the man with whom he had to deal ; he 
 knew likewise that his disobedience could not be 
 long kept a secret, and the nearer the period ap- 
 proached which would compel a disclosure, the 
 more anxious and uncomfortable he became. At 
 length the time arrived when he must either ac- 
 knowledge his marriage, or leave Mary to infamy. 
 It was the season of Doun Fair, and Duncan was 
 intrusted with the care of a drove of sheep which 
 were to be disposed of at that market. Having bid 
 farewell to his wife, he set out, still carrying his 
 secret with him, but determined to disclose it by 
 letter, as soon as he should reach Doun. His ob- 
 ject in acting thus was, partly, to escape the first 
 burst of his father's anger, and partly with the 
 hope, that, having escaped it, he might be received 
 at his return with forgiveness ; but alas ! the poor 
 fellow had no opportunity of ascertaining the suc- 
 cess of his scheme. 
 
 When he reached Doun, Duncan felt himself far 
 too unhappy to attend to business. He according- 
 ly intrusted the sale of his sheep to a neighbour ; 
 
CHAPTER I. 13 
 
 and sitting down in one of the public houses, wrote 
 that letter which had been the subject of his me- 
 ditations ever since he left Balquidder. Having 
 completed this, Duncan bravely determined to for- 
 get his sorrows for a while, for which purpose he 
 swallowed a dose of whisky, and entered into con- 
 versation with the company about him, among 
 whom were several soldiers, fine, merry, hearty 
 fellows, who, with their corporal, were on the 
 look-out for recruits. The leader of the party was 
 a skilful man in his vocation ; he admired the fine 
 proportions of the youth before him, and determi- 
 ned to inlist him if he could. For this purpose 
 more whisky was ordered, — funny histories were 
 told by him and his companions, — Duncan was 
 plied with dram after dram, till at length he became 
 completely inebriated, and the shilling was put 
 into his hand. No time was given him to recover 
 from his surprise ; for, long ere the effects of in- 
 toxication had evaporated, Duncan was on his way 
 to Edinburgh. Here he was instantly embarked 
 with a number of young men similarly situated ; 
 and he actually reached head-quarters without ha- 
 ving had an opportunity so much as to inform his 
 relations of his fate. 
 
 The sequel of Duncan's story is soon told. Ha- 
 ving obtained permission from the commanding 
 officer, he wrote to Scotland for his wife, who joy- 
 
14 THE SUBALTERN* 
 
 fully hastened to join him. Her father did what 
 he could, indeed, to prevent this step ; not from 
 any hatred towards his daughter, to whom he had 
 behaved with great kindness in her distress, but 
 , because he knew how uncomfortable was the sort 
 of life which she must lead as the wife of a private 
 soldier ; but Mary resisted every entreaty to re- 
 main apart from Duncan ; she had been in a state 
 of utter misery during the many weeks in which 
 she was left in ignorance of his situation ; and, 
 now that she knew where he was to be . found, 
 nothing should hinder her from following him. 
 Though far gone in a state of pregnancy, she set 
 out instantly for the south of England; and ha- 
 ving endured with patience all inconveniences 
 attendant upon her want of experience as a tra- 
 veller, she succeeded in reaching Hythe, just one 
 week previous to the embarkation of the regi- 
 ment. 
 
 This ill-fated couple were hardly brought toge- 
 ther when they were once more doomed to part. 
 Poor Mary's name came up among the names of 
 those who should remain behind the regiment, and 
 no language of mine can do justice to the scene 
 which took place. I was not present when the 
 women drew their tickets ; but I was told by M'ln- 
 tyre, that when Mary unrolled the slip of paper, 
 and read upon it the fatal words, " To be left," 
 
CHAPTER I. 15 
 
 she looked as if Heaven itself were incapable of 
 adding one additional pang to her misery. Hold- 
 ing it with both liands, at the full stretch of her 
 arms from her face, she gazed upon it for some 
 minutes without speaking a word, though the ra- 
 pid succession of colour and deadly paleness upon 
 her cheeks, told how severe was the struggle which 
 was going on within ; till at length, completely 
 overpowered by her own sensations, she crushed 
 it between her palms, and fell senseless into the 
 arms of a female who stood near. 
 
 That night was spent by Duncan and his wife 
 exactly as it was to be supposed that it would be 
 spent. They did not so much as lie down ; but 
 the moments sped on in spite of their watchful- 
 ness, — and at last the bugle sounded. When I 
 came upon the ground, I saw Duncan standing in 
 his place, but Mary was not near him. The wives 
 of the few soldiers who were left behind to form a 
 depot, having kindly detained her in the barrack- 
 room. But, just before the column began to move, 
 she rushed forth ; and the scream which she ut- 
 tered, as she flew towards Duncan, was heard 
 throughout the whole of the ranks. — " Duncan, 
 Duncan !" the poor thing cried, as she clung wild- 
 ly round his neck : " Oh, Duncan, Duncan Stew- 
 art, ye're no gawn to leave me again, and me sae 
 near being a mother ! O, Serjeant M'lntyre, dinna 
 
16 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 tak' him awa' ! if ye hae ony pity, dinna, dinna 
 tak' him ! — O, sir, ye'U let me gang wi' him ?" 
 she added, turning to one of the officers who stood 
 by ; " for the love of Heaven, if ye hae ony pity 
 in ye, dinna separate us !" 
 
 Poor Duncan stood all this while in silence, 
 leaning his forehead upon the muzzle of his fire- 
 lock, and supporting his wretched wife upon his 
 arm. He shed no tears — which is more than I can 
 say for myself, or indeed for almost any private 
 or officer upon the parade — his grief was evidently 
 beyond them. " Ye may come as far as Dover, at 
 least," he at length said, in a sort of murmur ; and 
 the poor creature absolutely shrieked with delight 
 at the reprieve. 
 
 The band now struck up, and the column began 
 to move, the men shouting, partly to drown the 
 cries of the women, and partly to express theii* 
 own willingness to meet the enemy. Mary walk- 
 ed by the side of her husband; but she looked 
 more like a moving corpse than a living creature. 
 — She was evidently suffering acutely, not only in 
 mind but in body ; indeed, we had not proceeded 
 above three miles on our journey, before she was 
 seized with the pains of labour. It would have 
 been the height of barbarity to have hindered her 
 unfortunate husband, under these circumstances, 
 from halting to take care of her ; so having recei- 
 
CHAPTER I. 17 
 
 ved his promise to join the regiment again before 
 dark, we permitted him to fall out of the ranks. 
 Fortunately, a cottage stood at no great distance 
 from the road side, into which he and his friend M'- 
 Intyre removed her; and while there, I have reason 
 to believe, she was received with great humanity, 
 and treated with kindness ; indeed, the inhabitants 
 of the cottage must have been devoid of everything 
 human except the form, had they treated a young 
 woman so situated, otherwise than kindly. 
 
 A four hours' march brought the regiment in 
 high spirits, and in good order, into Dover. As a 
 matter of course, the inhabitants filled their win- 
 dows, and thronged the streets, to witness the em- 
 barkation of a body of their countrymen, of whom 
 it was more than probable that few would return ; 
 nor have I any cause to doubt the sincerity of the 
 good wishes which they expressed, for our success 
 and safety. It is only during the dull times of 
 peace, or, which amounts to the same thing, when 
 troops are lying idly in a garrison town, that feel- 
 ings of mutual jealousy arise between the inhabit- 
 ants and the soldiers. 
 
 As the men came in fresh, and, which by no 
 means invariably follows, sober, little more than 
 half an hour was spent in embarking. The trans- 
 ports, fortunately, lay along-side the pier ; conse- 
 quently, there was no need to employ boats for the 
 
18 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 removal of the troops and bag-gage ; but boards be- 
 ing placed as bridges from the pier to the deck, the 
 companies filed easily and regularly into their re- 
 spective ships. We were not, however, to sail till 
 the following morning, the remainder of that day 
 being allowed for laying in sea-stock ; and hence, 
 as soon as they had seen the men comfortably 
 housed, the officers adjourned to the A^arious inns 
 in the place. 
 
 Like my companions, I returned again to shore 
 as soon as I had attended to the comforts of my 
 division ; but my mind was too full of the image 
 of poor Maryj to permit my entering with gusto 
 into the various amusements of my friends. I pre- 
 ferred walking back in the direction of Hythe, 
 with the hope of meeting M'Intyre, and ascertain- 
 ing how the poor creature did. I walked, how- 
 ever, for some time, before any traveller made his 
 appearance. At length, when the interest which 
 I had felt in the fate of the young couple was be- 
 ginning in some degree to moderate, and I was 
 meditating a return to the inn, I saw two soldiers 
 moving towards me. As they approached, I read- 
 ily discovered that they were Duncan and his 
 friend ; so I waited for them. " Duncan Stewart," 
 said I, " how is your wife ?" — The poor fellow did 
 not answer, but, touching his cap, passed on. 
 " How is his wife, M'Intyre ?" said I to the ser- 
 
CHAPTER I. 19 
 
 jeant, who stood still. The honest Scotchman 
 burst into tears ; and as soon as he could command 
 himself, he laconically answered, " She is at rest, 
 sir." From this I guessed that she was dead ; and 
 on more minute inquiry, I learned that it was even 
 so ; — she died a few minutes after they removed 
 her into the cottage, without having brought the 
 cliild into the Avorld. An attempt was made to 
 save the infant, by performing the Ceesarean ope- 
 ration, but without effect ; it hardly breathed at 
 all. 
 
 Though the officer who commanded the depot 
 was sent for, and offered to take the responsibility 
 upon himself, if Duncan wished to remain behind 
 for the purpose of burying his wife, the poor fel- 
 low would not avail himself of the offer. All that 
 he desired was a solemn assurance from the offi- 
 cer that he would see his dear Mary decently in- 
 terred ; and as soon as the promise was given, the 
 young widower hastened to join his regiment. He 
 scarcely spoke after ; and he was one of the first 
 who fell after the regiment landed in Spain, 
 
20 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I HAVE seldom witnessed a more beautiful sum- 
 mer's day than that on which our ships cast loose 
 from their moorings, and put to sea. It Avas past 
 noon before the tide arose, consequently the whole 
 town of Dover was afoot to watch our departure. 
 Crowds of well-dressed people stood upon the 
 pier, bidding us farewell with hearty cheers, and 
 waving of their hats and handkerchiefs — salutes 
 which we cordially answered, by shouting and 
 waving ours in return. But the wind was fair, 
 and the tide in our favour. Objects on shore be- 
 came gradually more and more indistinct ; the 
 shouts grew fainter and fainter, and at length Avere 
 heard no more. All the sail was set which our 
 frail masts were capable of carrying ; and long be- 
 fore dark, nothing could be distinguished of Dover, 
 or its magnificent cliffs, except a faint and vapour- 
 ing outline. 
 
 The favourable breeze which carried us so ra- 
 pidly beyond the straits of Dover, did not, how- 
 
CHAPTER II. 21 
 
 ever, last long. M^e had just caught sight of the 
 low-lying point of Dungeness, when it suddenly 
 chopped round, and blew a perfect hurricane in 
 our teeth. It was, indeed, with the utmost diffi- 
 culty that we succeeded in getting so near the 
 head-land, as to obtain some shelter from the roll- 
 ing sea which came up Channel ; and here we had 
 the misery to remain, consuming our sea-stock for 
 no purpose, and growling over the inconstancy of 
 the windy element for a space of time considerably 
 exceeding a week. I have spent many disagree- 
 able weeks — that is, many weeks which might 
 have been more profitably and more pleasantly 
 spent ; but one more utterly insipid than this — 
 more galling to the spirits, or more trying to the 
 temper, I cannot recollect. Even now, at the dis- 
 tance of twelve long years, I remember it, and the 
 very name of Dungeness is abomination in mine 
 ears. There is, indeed, one association connected 
 with that week, which serves to render it some- 
 what tolerable. On the last day of its continu- 
 ance, myself, with two others, landed upon the 
 shingly beach, and received from the families of 
 Mrs Denn and Benjamin Cobb, Esq. of Lydd, a 
 degree of attention, such as we had no right to ex- 
 pect, and which will not soon pass away from our 
 memories. 
 
22 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 At length the gale moderated, and we once more 
 put to sea ; but only to be driven hither and thi- 
 ther by the most provokingly adverse weather to 
 which men thirsting for military glory were ever 
 exposed. Hastings, Eastbourne, Brighton, Worth- 
 ing, all made their appearance in succession, and 
 all remained so long in sight that we cordially 
 wished them engulphed in the ocean. At the same 
 tedious rate we moved onwards till Plymouth har- 
 bour lav before us ; into which we were necessi- 
 tated to put, for the purpose of renewing our fresh 
 provisions and water. 
 
 In this place nearly another precious week was 
 wasted ; consequently July was far advanced ere 
 we could be said to have commenced our voyage 
 in earnest, nor was it till the 13th day of August, 
 1813, that the bold outline of the Spanish coast 
 became discernible. In crossing the Bay of Bis- 
 cay we had been baffled by continual calms, and 
 tossed about by the swell which always prevails 
 there ; our sails were, for the most part, perfectly 
 useless, flapping indolently upon the masts ; and 
 though we did our best to keep up a good heart, 
 we were all, both officers and men, beginning to 
 wish ourselves anywhere rather than cooped up 
 in a transport, when a cry of land, from the mast- 
 head, attracted our attention. 
 
CHAPTER II. 2S 
 
 We had kept our direct course so well, notwith- 
 standing the frequent calms and adverse breezes 
 to which we had been exposed, that the only coast 
 we made, after losing sight of the Scilly Isles, was 
 that of Biscay. The province of Biscay is in ge- 
 neral rugged and mountainous, the Pyrenees ex- 
 tending, in some places, to the water's edge — and 
 hence the voyager who beholds that coast for the 
 first time is apt to imagine himself near the con- 
 clusion of his voyage long before the situation of 
 the vessel authorises him so to do. Such was pre- 
 cisely the case with us on the present occasion. 
 Turning our eyes in the direction to which the 
 look-out seaman pointed, and beholding a line of 
 coast so bold, as that almost all its features were 
 clearly distinguishable, we fondly flattered our- 
 selves that this evening, or the next morning at 
 latest, would see us on shore ; but hour after hour 
 passed by without bringing us in any sensible de- 
 gree nearer to the object of our gaze. The wind, 
 too, which had hitherto blown against us, was now 
 in our favour ; yet day-light departed, and we 
 could not so much as tell whether we had gained 
 upon the land, or otherwise. 
 
 Next morning, when I ascended the deck, I was 
 delighted to perceive that we were not more than 
 three or four miles from shore, and that we were 
 moving steadily along at the rate of five miles and 
 
24 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 a half in the hour. Soon after, a merchant vessel 
 hailed us, by which we were informed of the issue 
 of the battle of the Pyrenees, and of the investi- 
 ture of St Sebastian's ; and I had the further gra- 
 tification of beholding the gun-brig, under whose 
 convoy we sailed, make prize of a tight-built Ame- 
 rican privateer schooner : but I could see nothing 
 as yet of the harbour of Passages, towards which 
 we were bound, and this day, accordingly, passed 
 on as the other had done, under the galling pres 
 sure of hope deferred. 
 
 On the 17 til of August, the first decisive indi- 
 cation of our approach to the seat of war was dis- 
 covered, in the sound of a heavy cannonade, heard 
 at first indistinctly, but becoming every hour more 
 and more audible. This, we had little doubt, pro- 
 ceeded from the town of St Sebastian's, and from 
 the batteries of its besiegers ; but it was in vain 
 that we turned our glasses in the direction of the 
 sound, with the hope of ascertaining whether or 
 not our supposition was correct. Though we 
 strained our eyes with the utmost anxiety as long 
 as day-light lasted, nothing could be descried 
 which we desired to behold, and we were once 
 more compelled to contemplate with resignation 
 the prospect of spending another night in the ex- 
 treme confinement of a cabin. The dawn of the 
 following day, however, excited new and livelier 
 
 9 
 
CHAPTER ir. 25 
 
 feelings within us, when we found ourselves with- 
 in a few hours' sail of the landing-place, and in a 
 situation perhaps as interesting as can well be ima- 
 gined to the mind of a soldier. 
 
 On ascending the deck of our ship at six o'clock 
 in the morning of the 18th, I perceived that we 
 were lying, under the influence of a dead calm, 
 within range of the guns of the Castle of St Se- 
 bastian's, and at a distance of perhaps a mile and 
 a half, or two miles, from shore. This fortress is 
 built upon the summit of a perpendicular rock, of 
 the height of perhaps two or three hundred feet, 
 the foot of which is washed on three sides by the 
 sea, and Avhen viewed, as we then viewed it, from 
 the water, presents as formidable an appearance 
 as any fortified place need to present. Its works, 
 owing to the great height, are placed completely 
 beyond the reach of molestation from a hostile 
 squadron ; whilst powerful batteries, rising tier 
 above tier, wherever any platform in the rock has 
 permitted them to be erected, threaten with in- 
 evitable destruction any vessel which may rashly 
 venture within reach of their fire. 
 
 On the right of the castle is a small bay, which 
 forms an extremely commodious harbour, and 
 which is sheltered from the weather by a little 
 island or mole, so placed, as that only one ship at 
 a time can pass between it and the fort ; whilst on 
 
 B 
 
26 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 the left, again, the river Gurumea, passing close 
 under the walls of the town, joins the sea at the 
 base of the castle rock. At the distance of per- 
 haps a mile and a half, or two miles, several high 
 hills enclose the place on every side, between which 
 and the ramparts the country is flat, and the soil 
 sandy and unfruitful. 
 
 The reader has not, I dare say, forgotten, that 
 after the battle of Vittoria, Sir Thomas Graham, 
 at the head of the 5 th division of the British army, 
 achieved a succession of petty victories over de- 
 tached bodies of the enemy, and finally sat down 
 before the town of St Sebastian's. On the 17th 
 of July, the convent of St Bartholome, which is 
 built upon one of the heights just alluded to, and 
 which the French had fortified with great diligence 
 and care, was taken by assault, and on the same 
 night the ground for the trenches was broken. As 
 the troops worked for their lives, blue lights being 
 thrown out from the city, and a smart fire kept 
 up upon them all the while, they laboured with 
 such assiduity, as to effect a pretty secure cover 
 for themselves before morning, and the sandy soil 
 of the place being highly favourable to such ope- 
 rations, the first parallel was drawn within a mo- 
 derate space of time. The trenches, indeed, were 
 completed, and breaching batteries erected by the 
 21st, on the morning of which day upwards of 
 
CHAPTER II. 2T 
 
 forty pieces of ordnance opened their fire upon the 
 place ; and so incessant and so effectual was their 
 practice, that, on the evening of the 24th, a breach 
 was effected. 
 
 As the breach seemed practicable, and as Sir 
 Thomas was aware that the advance of the whole 
 army was delayed only till this important place 
 should fall, he determined to lose no time in bring- 
 ing matters to the issue of a storm, and orders 
 were accordingly giA^en that the troops should 
 form in the trenches after dark, and be ready to 
 commence the assault as soon as the state of the 
 tide would permit the river to be forded. This 
 occurred about two o'clock in the morning of the 
 25th, when the storming party advanced with great 
 gallantry to the attack ; but whether it was that 
 the breach was not sufficiently assailable, or that 
 some panic seized the leading divisions, the attack 
 entirely failed. A sudden cry of *' Retreat, re- 
 treat !" arose just as the first company had gained 
 the summit of the rampart ; it spread with extra- 
 ordinary rapidity through the column, and some 
 houses, which were close to the wall of the town, 
 taking fire at the instant, all became confusion 
 and dismay. Those who were already on the 
 breach, turned round, and rushed against those 
 who were ascending ; of these many missed their 
 footing, and fell; and the enemy, keeping up a 
 
28 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 tremendous fire of grape, musketry, and grenades 
 all the while, the whole column speedily lost its 
 Older and tractability. A retreat, or rather a 
 iiiglit, accordingly began in real earnest ; and hap- 
 py was he who first made his way once more across 
 the Gurumea, and found himself sheltered from 
 destruction by the trenches. The loss in this affair 
 amounted on our part to nearly a thousand men, 
 of whom many, who had been only wounded, and 
 had fallen within high- water mark, were carried 
 off by the returning tide, and drowned. 
 
 From the period of this failure till some days af- 
 ter our arrival in the country, no farther attempts 
 were made upon St Sebastian's, and the besieged 
 were consequently enabled to repair, in a great 
 degree, the devastation which had been committed 
 upon their fortifications. The causes of this in- 
 activity on the part of the besiegers were, first, 
 the want of ammunition, of which a supply had 
 been long expected from England, but which ad- 
 verse winds had detained ; and secondly, sundry 
 demonstrations on the part of the French army, 
 of renewing offensive operations, and raising the 
 siege. Whilst these were making, it was deemed 
 unwise to land any fresh stores ; indeed, most of 
 those already landed, were removed, and hence, 
 when we passed under the walls of the fort, the 
 
CHAPTER II. 29 
 
 tri-coloured flag was displayed upon their battle- 
 ments. 
 
 On the high grounds which begirt the town, 
 the white tents of the besiegers were, however, 
 discernible, and to the left the Portuguese stand- 
 ard was unfurled. But all was quietness there. 
 The trenches were empty, except of the ordinary 
 guards ; the batteries were unprovided with artil- 
 lery, and some even in ruins ; the only mark of 
 hostility, indeed, which was exhibited on either 
 side, came from the toSvn, from^which, ever and 
 anon, a single shot was fired, as the allied piquets 
 or sentinels relieved one another, or a group of of- 
 ficers, more curious than wise, exposed themselves 
 unnecessarily to observation. Nevertheless, the 
 whole formed a spectacle in the highest degree in- 
 teresting and grand, especially to my eyes, to 
 whom such spectacles were new. ?^ 
 
 I was gazing with much earnestness upon the 
 scene before me, when a shot from the castle drew 
 my attention to ourselves, and I found that the 
 enemy were determined not to lose the opportuni- 
 ty which the calm aiforded, of doing as much da- 
 mage as possible to the ships which lay nearest to 
 them. The ball passed over our deck, and fell 
 harmless into the water. The next, however, 
 struck only a few feet from our bow, and the third 
 would have been perhaps still better directed, had 
 
30 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 not a light breeze fortunately sprung up, and car- 
 ried us on our course. By the help of it we con- 
 trived in a few minutes to get beyond range ; and 
 the enemy, perceiving his balls falling short, soon 
 ceased to waste them. 
 
 By this time we had approached within a short 
 distance of Passages ; and at eight o'clock that 
 wished-for harbour came in view. Perhaps there 
 are few ports in the world more striking in every 
 respect than that of Passages. As you draw near 
 to it, you run along a bold rocky shore, in which 
 no opening appears to exist, nor is it till he has 
 reached the very mouth of the creek, that a stran- 
 ger is inclined to suspect that a harbour is there. 
 The creek itself cannot be more than fifty yards 
 wide ; it runs directly iip between overhanging 
 cliffs, and presents altogether the appearance ra- 
 ther of an artificial cut, than of a cut of nature's 
 forminir. From the bare faces of these cliffs dif- 
 ferent kinds of dwarf trees and shrubs grow out in 
 rich luxuriance, whilst their summits are crowned 
 with o:roves of lime and cork trees. 
 
 Passing through the creek, we arrived in a spa- 
 cious basin or harbour, on the left of which is 
 built the little town of Passages. Here the scene 
 became highly picturesque and beautiful. The 
 houses, though none of the whitest or most clean 
 in external appearance, were striking from the pe- 
 
CHAPTER II. 31 
 
 cullarity of their structure; having balconies pro- 
 jecting from the upper stories, and wooden stair- 
 cases which lead to them from without. The ab- 
 sence of glass, too, from most of the windows, 
 which were furnished only with wooden lattices, 
 powerfully impressed vipoii my mind, that I was 
 no longer in happy England. Nor did the general 
 dress and appearance of both men and women fail 
 to interest one, who beheld them now for the first 
 time. The men, v/ith their broad hats, swarthy 
 visages, mustachoed lips, red, blue, or yellow 
 sleeved waistcoats ; their brown breeches, stock- 
 ings, and shoes with coloured ties ; their scarlet 
 sashes fastened round the waist, and brown jacket 
 slung over one shoulder, formed a remarkable con- 
 trast with the smock-frocked peasantry whom I 
 had left behind. With the dress of the women, 
 again, I was not so much struck, because T had 
 seen dresses not dissimilar in Scotland. They 
 wear, for the most part, brown or scarlet petti- 
 coats, with a handkerchief tied round the neck or 
 bosom, so as to form a sort of stomacher. Their 
 waists are long, and the head and feet bare ; their 
 hair being permitted sometimes to hang over their 
 back in ringlets ; Avhilst sometimes it is gathered 
 up into a knot. But the expressive countenances 
 of these females, their fine dark laughing eye, their 
 white teeth, and brunette complexion, are extreme- 
 ly pleasing. 
 
32 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 To complete the picture, the back-ground be- 
 hind Passages is on all hands beautifully roman- 
 tic. Hills rise, one above another, to a very con- 
 siderable height, all of them covered with rich 
 herbage, and the most ample foliage ; whilst far 
 away in the distance are seen the tops of those 
 stupendous mountains, which form a barrier, and 
 no imaginary barrier, between France and Spain. 
 
 Though we entered the harbour as early as nine 
 o'clock in the morning, and were ready for dis- 
 embarkation in ten minutes after, that event, so 
 ardently desired and so long deferred, occurred 
 not till a late hour in the evening. Soldiers are, 
 as every person knows, mere machines ; they can- 
 not think for themselves or act for themselves in 
 any point of duty ; and as no orders had been left 
 here respecting us, no movement could be made, 
 till intelligence had been sent to the General com- 
 manding the nearest division, of our arrival. This 
 having been effected, we were forthwith command- 
 ed to come on shore ; and all the boats in the har- 
 bour, as well those belonging to the vessels ly- 
 ing there, as to the native fishermen, were put in 
 requisition to transport us. In spite of every ex- 
 ertion, however, darkness had set in ere the last 
 division reached the land ; and hence we were un- 
 able to do more than march to a little wooded 
 
CHAPTER II. 33 
 
 eminence about a couple of miles from the town, 
 where we bivouacked. 
 
 This was the first night of my life which I had 
 ever spent in so warlike a fashion ; and I perfect- 
 ly recollect, to this hour, the impression which it 
 made upon me. It was one of the most exquisite 
 delight. The season chanced to be uncommonly 
 mild ; not a breath of air was stirring ; everything 
 around me smelt sweet and refreshing after a long 
 imprisonment on board of ship ; above all, I felt 
 that soldiering was no longer an amusement. Not 
 that there was any peril attending our situation, 
 for we were at least ten miles from the garrison 
 of St Sebastian's, and perhaps twenty from the 
 army of Marshal Soult ; but the very circumstance 
 of being called upon to sleep under the canopy of 
 heaven, the wrapping myself up in my cloak, with 
 my sabre hanging on the branch of a tree over my 
 head, and my dog couching down at my heels, — 
 these things alone were sufficient to assure me, 
 that my military career had actually begun. 
 
 When I looked around me again, I saw arms 
 piled up, and glittering in the light of twenty fires, 
 which were speedily kindled, and cast a bright 
 glare through the overhanging foliage. I saw men, 
 enveloped in their great-coats, stretched or sitting 
 around these fires in wild groups ; I heard their 
 merry chat, their hearty and careless laugh ; now 
 
 B 2 
 
34 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 and then a song or a catch chanted by one or 
 two, — all these things, I recollect, were delight- 
 fully exciting. I leant my head against a tree, 
 and putting my pipe in my mouth, I puffed away 
 in a state of feeling which any monarch might 
 envy, and which, in truth, I have never experien- 
 ced since. 
 
 When regiments are employed upon actual ser- 
 "Ndce, everything like a general mess is laid aside. 
 The officers then divide themselves into small co- 
 teries of two, three, or four, according as they hap- 
 pen to form mutual friendships, or find the ar- 
 rangement attended with convenience. I was for- 
 tunate enough to have contracted an intimacy with 
 one of my comrades, \^hose memory I have ne- 
 ver ceased to cherish with the fondest affection, 
 and whose good qualities deserve that his memory 
 should be cherished with affection, as long as the 
 power of thinking and reflecting remains by me. 
 He is now at peace, and lies beside two others of 
 his companions in arms, at the bottom of a gar- 
 den. But let that pass for the present. My friend 
 was an old campaigner. He had served during 
 the greater part of the Peninsular war, and was 
 therefore perfectly acquainted with the course which 
 soldiers ought to pursue, if they desire to keep their 
 health, and to do their duty effectually. At his 
 suggestion I had brought with me a fowling-piece ; 
 
CHAPTER II. 35 
 
 he too brought his ; between us we mustered a 
 couple of greyhounds, a pointer, and a spaniel ; and 
 were indifferently furnished with fishing-rods and 
 tackle. By the help of these we calculated on 
 being able, at times, to add something to the fare 
 allowed us in the way of rations ; and the event 
 proved that our calculations had not been formed 
 upon mistaken grounds. 
 
 With him I spent the greater part of this night 
 in chatting, sometimes of days gone by, and some- 
 times of the probabilities for the future. Though 
 several years older than myself. Gray had lost 
 none of the enthusiasm of the boy, and he was a 
 perfect enthusiast in his profession. He described 
 to me other ^scenes in which he had taken part, 
 other bivouacks in which he had shared ; and effec- 
 tually hindei'ed me from losing any portion of that 
 military excitement with which I first sat down. 
 But, at length, our eyelids began to grow heavy, 
 in spite of all the whispers of romance, and every 
 one around us was fast asleep. We accordingly 
 trimmed our fire to keep it burning till after day- 
 break ; and, having drank our allowance of grog 
 to the health of our friends and relations at home, 
 we wrapped our cloaks about us, and lay down. In 
 ten minutes I was in the land of forgetfulness. 
 
36 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Day had fully dawned, when the general stir of 
 the troops around me put an end to my repose. I 
 opened my eyes, and remained for half a minute 
 perfectly at a loss to conceive where I was, so 
 new and so splendid was the prospect which met 
 them. We had bivouacked upon a well-wooded 
 eminence, standing, as it were, in the very centre 
 of an amphitheatre of mountains. Behind us lay 
 the beautiful little Bay of Passages, tranquil and 
 almost motionless, under the influence of a calm 
 morning, though rendered more than usually gay 
 by the ships and boats which covered its surface. 
 In front, and to the right and left, rose, at some 
 little distance off, hill above hill, not rugged and 
 barren, like those among which we afterwards 
 took up our abode, but shaggy with the richest 
 and most luxuriant groves of plane, birch, and 
 mountain-ash. Immediately beneath was a small 
 glen, covered partly with the stubble of last year's 
 barley, and still loaded with an abundant crop 
 of unreaped Indian corn ; whilst a little to the 
 rear from the spot where I had slept, stood a neat 
 
CHAPTER III. 37 
 
 farm-house, having its walls hidden by the spread- 
 ing branches of vines, and studded with clusters 
 of grapes approaching rapidly to perfection. In a 
 word, it was a scene to which the pencil might 
 perhaps do justice, but which defies all the powers 
 of language adequately to describe. 
 
 I arose in the same enthusiastic tone of mind with 
 which I had gone to sleep, and assigned myself 
 willingly to the task of erecting huts for our own 
 accommodation and that of the men, no tents ha- 
 ving, as yet, been issued out to us. This was 
 speedily effected ; large stakes were felled and dri- 
 ven into the earth, between which were twisted thin- 
 ner and more leafy branches, by way of walls, and 
 these being covered with twigs so closely wedged 
 as to prove impervious to any passing shower, 
 formed a species of domicile not perhaps very com- 
 modious, but extremely habitable. Such was our 
 occupation during the hours of light, and at night 
 the corps lay down comfortably sheltered against 
 dews and damps. 
 
 The following day was spent chiefly in purcha- 
 sing horses and mules, which were brought in 
 great abundance by the country people to the camp. 
 For these, we of course paid considerably more 
 than their full value ; but it was essentially neces- 
 sary to procure them without delay, as we were in 
 hourly expectation of a move. Nearly a week elap- 
 
38 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 sed, however, and we still remained in the same 
 situation ; nor was it till the evening of the 27th 
 that the long-expected route arrived. 
 
 In the meanwhile, I had not been idle, nor had 
 I confined myself with any strictness within the 
 bounds of the camp. Much of my time was spent 
 in seeking for game of various kinds among the 
 stupendous cliffs around, a quest in which I was 
 not always unsuccessful. On other occasions, I 
 mounted my newly-purchased horse, and rode 
 about to different points which promised to afford 
 the most extensive prospect of the glorious scenery 
 of the Lower Pyrenees. Nor was the camp before 
 St Sebastian's neglected ; to it I paid repeated vi- 
 sits, and perhaps I cannot do better, in this stage 
 of my narrative, than give some account of the 
 state in which I found it. 
 
 In a former Chapter, I stated that St Sebastian's 
 occupies a neck of land which juts into the sea, 
 being washed on two sides by the waters of the 
 Bay of Biscay, and on the third by the River Gu- 
 rumea. This stream, though inconsiderable in re- 
 spect of width, cannot be forded, at least near the 
 town, except at the time of low tide ; it therefore 
 adds not a little to the general strength of the 
 place. But the strength of the place consists far 
 more in the great regularity and solidity of its for- 
 tifications, than in its natural situation. Across the 
 
CHAPTER III. 39 
 
 isthmus, from the river to the bay, is erected a 
 chain of stupendous masonry, consisting of seve- 
 ral bastions and towers, connected by a well-sliel- 
 tered curtain, and covered by a ditch and glacis, 
 whilst the castle, built upon an high hill, com- 
 pletely commands the whole, and seems to hold the 
 town, and everything in it, entirely at its mercy. 
 
 The scenery around St Sebastian's is, in the 
 highest degree, interesting and fine. As has been 
 already mentioned, the ground, beginning to rise 
 on all sides about a mile and a half from the glacis, 
 is soon broken into hill and valley, mountain and 
 ravine. Numerous orchards are, moreover, plant- 
 ed upon the lowest of these heights, with here and 
 there a vineyard, a chateau, and a farm-house; 
 whilst far off, in the back-ground, are seen the rug- 
 ged tops of the Quatracrone, and the other gigan- 
 tic mountains which overhang the Bidaossa, and 
 divide Spain from France. 
 
 The tents of the besiegers were placed upon the 
 lower range of hills, about two miles and a half dis- 
 ttmt from the town. Of course, they were so pitch- 
 ed as that they should be, as far as possible, hid- 
 den from the enemy, and for this purpose the un- 
 even nature of the country happily sufficed. They 
 stood, for the most part, among the orchards just 
 alluded to, and in the valleys and ravines with 
 which the place abounded. Leading from them to 
 
40 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 the first parallel, were cut various covered ways, 
 that is, roads sunk in the ground so far as that 
 troops might march along without exposing them- 
 selves to the fire of the enemy ; and the parallel it- 
 self was drawn almost upon the brow of the ridge. 
 Here, or rather in the ruined convent of St Bar- 
 tholeme, was established the principal magazine of 
 powder, shot, working- tools, and other necessaries 
 for the siege, and here, as a matter of course, the 
 reserve, or main body of the piquet-guard, was sta- 
 tioned. 
 
 The first parallel extended some way beyond the 
 town, on both sides, and was connected with the 
 second, as that again was with the third, by other 
 covered ways, cut in an oblique direction towards 
 the enemy's works ; but no sap had been attempted. 
 The third parallel, therefore, completed the works 
 of the besiegers, and it was carried within a few 
 huncired yards of the foot of the rampart. In each 
 of these batteries were built, as well as on the 
 brows of all the surrounding heights ; but as yet 
 they were masked by slight screens of sand and 
 turf, though the guns were placed once more in 
 many of them, and the rest were rapidly filling. 
 
 There is no species of duty in which a soldier' is 
 liable to be employed, so galling, or so disagreeable, 
 as a siege. Not that it is deficient in causes of ex- 
 citement, which, on the contrary, are in hourly 
 
CHAPTER III. 41 
 
 operation ; but it ties liim so completely down to 
 one spot, and breaks in so repeatedly upon his 
 hours of rest, and exposes him so constantly to dan- 
 ger, and that too at times and in places where no 
 honour is to be gained, that we cannot greatly won- 
 der at the feelings of absolute hatred which gene- 
 rally prevail, among the privates at least of a be- 
 sieging army, against the garrison which does its 
 duty to its country, by holding out to the last ex- 
 tremity. On the present occasion, I found much 
 of that tone of mind among the various brigades 
 which lay before St Sebastian's. They could not 
 forgive the French garrison, which had now kept 
 them during six weeks at bay, and they burned 
 with anxiety to wipe off the disgrace of a former 
 repulse ; there was, therefore, little mention made 
 o^ quarter i whenever the approaching assault chan- 
 ced to be alluded to. 
 
 The governor of St Sebastian's was evidently a 
 man of great energy of mind, and of very consi- 
 derable military talent. Everything which could 
 be done to retard the progress of the siege, he had 
 attempted ; the breach which had been effected 
 previous to the first assault, was now almost entire- 
 ly filled up, whilst many new works were erected, 
 and what was not, perhaps, in strict accordance 
 mth the rules of modern warfare — they were erect- 
 ed by British prisoners. We could distinctly see 
 
42 THE SUBALTERN'. 
 
 these poor fellows labouring at their task in full 
 regimentals, and the consequence was, that they 
 were permitted to labour on, without a single gun 
 being turned against them. Nor was this all that 
 was done to annoy the assailants — nightafter night, 
 petty sorties were made, Avith no other apparent 
 design than to disturb the repose, and to harass 
 the spirits, of the besiegers ; for the attacking party 
 seldom attempted to advance farther than the first 
 parallel, and it was uniformly beaten back by the 
 piquets and reserve. 
 
 During the last ten days, the besieging army had 
 been busily employed in bringing up ammunition, 
 and in dragging into battery one of the most splen- 
 did trains of heavy ordnance which a British ge- 
 neral has ever had at his command. On the even- 
 ing of the 26th, these matters were completed; no 
 fewer than sixty pieces of artillery, some of them 
 sixty- four, and none of lighter metal than eighteen- 
 jK)unders, were mounted against the town, whilst 
 twenty mortars of different calibre prepared to 
 scatter death among its defenders, and bid fair to 
 reduce the place itself to a heap of ruins. 
 
 These arrangements being completed, it was 
 deemed prudent, previous to the opening of the bat- 
 teries, to deprive the enemy of a little redoubt 
 which stood upon an island in the harbour, and in 
 some degree enfiladed the trenches. For this ser- 
 
CHAPTER III. 43 
 
 vice a detachment, consisting of an hundred men, 
 a captain, and two subalterns, were allotted, who, 
 filing from the camp soon after night-fall, embark- 
 ed in the boats of the cruizers; here they were 
 joined by a few seamen and marines, under the 
 command of a naval officer, and having made good 
 their landing under cover of darkness, they advan- 
 ced briskly to the assault. The enemy were taken 
 completely by surprise — only a few shots were 
 fired on either side, and in the space of fiA^e minutes, 
 the small fort, mounting four guns, with an offi- 
 cer and thirty men in its garrison, surrendered, or 
 rather were taken possession of by the assailants. 
 So trifling, indeed, was the resistance offijred by 
 the French garrison, tliat it disturbed not the slum- 
 bers of the troops in camp. The night of the 26th, 
 accordingly, passed by in quiet, but as soon as the 
 morning of the 27th dawned, affiiirs assumed a 
 very different appearance. Soon after day-break, 
 a single shell was thrown from the heights on the 
 riglit of the town, as a signal for the batteries to 
 open, and then a most tremendous cannonade be- 
 gan. The first salvo, indeed, was one of the finest 
 things of the kind I ever witnessed. Without ta- 
 king the trouble to remove the slight covering of 
 Rand and turf which masked the batteries, the ar- 
 tillerymen, laying their guns by such observations 
 as small apertures left for the purpose enabled 
 
44 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 them to effect, fired upon the given signal, and 
 thus caused the guns to clear a way for themselves 
 in their future discharges ; nor were these tardy 
 in occurring. So rapid, indeed, were the gunners 
 in their movements, and so unintermitting the fire 
 which they kept up from morning till night, du- 
 ring the whole of the 27th, the 28th, the 29th, and 
 30th, that hy sun-set on the latter day, not only 
 was the old breach reduced to its former dilapida- 
 ted condition, but a new and a far more promising 
 breach was effected. 
 
 In the meantime, however, the enemy had not 
 been remiss in their endeavours to silence the fire 
 of the besiegers, and to dismount their guns. They 
 had, indeed, exercised their artillery with so much 
 good will, that most of the cannon found in the 
 place, after its capture, were unserviceable ; being 
 melted at the touch-holes, or otherwise damaged 
 from too frequent use. But they fought, on the 
 present occasion, under every imaginable disad- 
 vantage ; for, not only was our artillery much 
 more than a match for theirs, but our advanced 
 trenches were lined with troops, who kept up an 
 incessant and deadly fire of musketry upon the 
 embrasures. The consequence was, that the fire 
 from the town became every hour more and more 
 intermitted, till, long before mid-day, on the 28th, 
 the garrison attempted no further resistance, than 
 
CHAPTER III, 45 
 
 by the occasional discharge of a mortar from be- 
 neath the ramparts. 
 
 I have said, that by sun-set on the 30th, tlie old 
 breach was reduced to its former dilapidated state, 
 and a new and a more promising one effected. It 
 will be necessary to describe, with greater accura- 
 cy than I have yet done, the situation and actual 
 state of these breaches. 
 
 The point selected by -Sir Thomas Graham as 
 most exposed, and offering the best mark to his 
 breaching artillery, was that side of the town 
 which looked toAvards the river. Here there was 
 no ditch, nor any glacis, the waters of the Guru- 
 mea flowing so close to the foot of the wall, as to 
 render the one useless, and the other impractica- 
 ble. The rampart itself was consequently bare to 
 the fire of our batteries, and as it rose to a consi- 
 derable height, perhaps twenty or thirty feet above 
 the plain, there was every probability of its soon 
 giving way to the shock of the battering guns. 
 But the consistency of that wall is hardly to be 
 imagined by those who have never beheld it. It 
 seemed, indeed, as if it were formed of one solid 
 rock ; and hence, the breach, which, to the eye of 
 one who examined it only from without, appeared 
 at once capacious and easy of ascent, proved, when 
 attacked, to "be no more than a partial dilapidation 
 of the exterior face of the masonry. Nor was this 
 
46 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 all. The rampart gave way, not in numerous 
 small fragments, such as might afford a safe and 
 easy footing to those who were to ascend, but in 
 huge masses, which, rolling down like crags from 
 the face of a precipice, served to impede the ad- 
 vance of the column, almost as effectually as if 
 they had not fallen at all. The two breaches were 
 about a stone's-throw apart, the one from the 
 other. Both were commanded by the guns of the 
 castle, and both were flanked by projections in the 
 town wall. Yet such was the path by which our 
 troops must proceed, if any attempt should be 
 made to carry the place by assault. 
 
 That this attempt would be made, and that it 
 certainly would be made on the morrow, every 
 man in the camp was perfectly aware. The tide 
 promised to answer about noon ; and noon was ac- 
 cordingly fixed upon as the time of attack, and the 
 question, therefore, was, who by the morrow's 
 noon would be alive, and who would not. Whilst 
 this surmise very naturally occupied the minds of 
 the troops in general, a few more daring spirits 
 were at work, devising means for furthering the 
 intended assault, and securing its success. Con- 
 spicuous among these was Major Snodgrass, an 
 officer belonging to the 52d British regiment, but 
 who commanded on the present occasion a batta- 
 lion of Portuguese. Up to the present night, only 
 
CHAPTER III. 47 
 
 one ford, and that at some little distance from 
 both breaches, had been discovered. By exami- 
 ning the stream, as minutely as it could be exami- 
 ned by a telescope, and from a distance. Major 
 Snodgi-ass had conceived the idea, that there must 
 be another ford, so far above the one already 
 known, as to carry those who should cross by it 
 at once to the foot of the smaller breach. Though 
 the moon was in her first quarter, and gave a very 
 considerable light, he devoted the whole of the 
 night of the 30th to a personal trial of the river ; 
 and he found it, as he expected to find it, fordable 
 at low water, immediately opposite to the smaller 
 breach. By this ford he accordingly crossed, the 
 water reaching somewhat above his waist. Nor 
 was he contented with having ascertained this fact ; 
 he clambered up the face of the breach at midnight, 
 gained its summit, and looked down upon the town. 
 How he contrived to elude the vigilance of the 
 French sentinels, I know not; but that he did 
 elude them, and that he performed the gallant act 
 which I have just recorded, is familiarly known to 
 all who served at the siege of St Sebastian's. 
 
 So passed the night of the 30th, a night of deep 
 anxiety to many, and of high excitement to all ; 
 and many a will was made, as soldiers make their 
 wills, before morning. About an hour before day, 
 the troops were, as usual, under arms — and then 
 
 15 
 
48 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 the final orders were given for the assault. The 
 division was to enter the trenches about ten o'clock, 
 in what is called light marching order ; that is, 
 leaving their knapsacks, blankets, &c., behind, and 
 carrying with them only their arms and ammuni- 
 tion ; and the forlorn hope was to prepare to move 
 forward, as soon as the tide should appear suffi- 
 ciently low to permit their crossing the river. This 
 post was assigned to certain detachments of volun- 
 teers, who had come down from the various divi- 
 sions of the main army, for the purpose of assist- 
 ing in the assault of the place. These were to be 
 followed by the 1st, or royal regiment of foot ; that 
 by the 4th ; that by the 9th, and it again by the 
 47th ; whilst several corps of Portuguese were to 
 remain behind as a reserve, and to act as circum- 
 stances should require, for the support or cover of 
 the assailing brigades. Such were the orders 
 issued at day-break on the 30th of August, and 
 these orders, all who heard them cheerfully pre- 
 pared to obey. 
 
 It is a curious fact, but it is a fact, that the 
 morning of the 31st rose darkly and gloomily, as 
 if the elements themselves had been aware of the 
 approaching conflict, and were determined to add 
 to its awfulness by their disorder. A close and 
 oppressive heat pervaded the atmosphere, whilst 
 lowering and sulphureous clouds covered the face 
 
CHAPTER III. 49 
 
 of the sky, and hindered the sun from darting upon 
 us one intervening ray, from morning till night. 
 A sort of preternatural stillness, too, was in the 
 air ; the hirds were silent in the groves ; the very 
 dogs and horses in the camp, and cattle on the hill 
 side, gazed in apparent alarm about them. As the 
 day passed on, and the hour of attack drew near, 
 the clouds gradually collected into one black mass, 
 directly over the devoted city ; and almost at the 
 instant when our troops began to march into the 
 trenches, the storm burst forth. Still, it was com- 
 paratively mild in its effects. An occasional flash 
 of lightning, succeeded by a burst of thunder, was 
 all of it Avhich we felt, though this was enough to 
 div'ert our attention. 
 
 The forlorn hope took its station at the mouth 
 of the most advanced trench, about half past ten 
 o'clock. The tide, which had long turned, was 
 now fast ebbing, and these gallant fellows beheld 
 its departure with a degree of feverish anxiety, 
 such as he only can imagine, who has stood in a 
 similar situation. This was the first time that a 
 town was stormed by daylight since the com- 
 mencement of the war, and the storming party 
 were enabled distinctly to perceive the prepara- 
 tions which were making for their reception. There 
 was, therefore, something not only interesting but 
 novel, in beholding the muzzles of the enemy's can- 
 
 c 
 
50 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 lion, from the castle and other batteries, turned in 
 such a direction as to flank the breaches ; whilst the 
 glancing of bayonets, and the occasional rise of caps 
 and feathers, gave notice of the line of infantry 
 which was forming underneath the parapet. There 
 an officer could, from time to time, be distinguish- 
 ed, leaning his telescope over the top of the ram- 
 part, or through the opening of an embrasure, and 
 prying with deep attention into our arrangements. 
 
 Nor were our own officers, particularly those of 
 the engineers, idle. With the greatest coolness 
 they exposed themselves to a dropping fire of mus- 
 ketry which the enemy at intervals kept up, whilst 
 they examined and re-examined the state of the 
 breaches — a procedure which cost the life of as 
 brave and experienced a soldier as that distin- 
 guished corps has produced. I allude to Sir Ri- 
 chard Fletcher, chief engineer to the army, who 
 was shot through the head only a few minutes be- 
 fore the column advanced to the assault. 
 
 It would be difficult to convey to the mind of 
 an ordinary reader anything like a correct notion 
 of the state of feelingwhich takes possession of a 
 man waiting for the commencement of a battle. In 
 the first place, time appears to move upon leaden 
 wings ; every minute seems an hour, and every 
 hour a day. Then there is a strange commingling 
 of levity and seriousness within him — a levity 
 
CHAPTER III. 51 
 
 which prompts hiin to laiigli, he scarce knows why; 
 and a seriousness which urges him ever and anon 
 to lift up a mental prayer to the Throne of Grace. 
 On such occasions, little or no conversation passes. 
 The privates generally lean upon their firelocks — 
 the officers upon their swords ; and few words, ex- 
 cept monosyllables, at least in answer to questions 
 put, are wasted. On these occasions, too, the faces 
 of the bravest often change colour, and the limbs 
 of the most resolute tremble, not with fear, but 
 with anxiety ; whilst watches are consulted, till the 
 individuals who consult them grow absolutely 
 weary of the employment. On the whole, it is a 
 situation of higher excitement, and darker and 
 deeper agitation, than any other in human life; 
 nor can he be said to have felt all which man is 
 capable of feeling, who has not filled it. 
 
 Noon had barely passed, when the low state of 
 the tide giving evidence that the river might be 
 forded, the word was given to advance. Silent as 
 the grave, the column moved forward. In one in- 
 stant the leading files had cleared the trenches, 
 and the others poured on in quick succession after 
 them, when the ^vork of death began. The enemy 
 having reserved their fire till the head of the co- 
 lumn had gained the middle of the stream, thou 
 opened with the most deadly effect. Grape, can- 
 nister, musketry, shells, grenades, and every spo- 
 
5^ THlD SUBALTERN. 
 
 cies of missile, were hurled from tlic ramparts, be- 
 neath which our gallant fellows dropped like corn 
 before the reaper ; insomuch, that in the space of 
 two minutes, the river was literally choked up 
 with the bodies of the killed and wounded, over 
 whom, without discrimination, the advancing di- 
 visions pressed on. 
 
 The opposite bank was soon gained, and the 
 short space between the landing-place and the foot 
 of the breach rapidly cleared, without a single shot 
 having been returned by the assailants. But here 
 the most alarming prospect awaited them. Instead 
 of a wide and tolerably level chasm, the breach 
 presented the appearance only of an ill-built wall, 
 thrown considerably from its perpendicular ; to 
 ascend which, even though unopposed, would be 
 no easy task. It was, however, too late to pause ; 
 besides, the men's blood was hot, and their courage 
 on fire ; so they pressed on, clambering up as they 
 best could, and effectually hindering one another 
 from falling back, by the eagerness of the rear- 
 ranks to follow those in front. Shouts and groans 
 were now mingled with the roar of cannon and the 
 rattle of musketry ; our front-ranks likewise had 
 an opportunity of occasionally firing with effect ; 
 and the slaughter on both sides was dreadful. 
 
 At length the head of the column forced its way 
 to the summit of the breach, where it was met in 
 
CHAPTER 111. o3 
 
 the most gallant style by the bayonets of the gar- 
 rison. When I say the summit of the breach, I 
 mean not to assert that our soldiers stood upon a 
 level with their enemies, for this was not the case. 
 There was an high step, perhaps two or three feet 
 in length, which the assailants must surmount be- 
 fore they could gain the same ground with the de- 
 fenders, and a very considerable period elapsed ere 
 that step was surmounted. Here bayonet met bay- 
 onet, and sabre met sabre, in close and desperate 
 strife, without the one party being able to advance, 
 or the other succeeding in driving them back. 
 
 Things had continued in this state for nearly a 
 quarter of an hour, when ^lajor Snodgrass, at the 
 head of the 13th Portuguese regiment, dashed across 
 the river by his own ford, and assaulted the lesser 
 breach. This attack was made in the most cool and 
 determined manner ; but here, too, the obstacles 
 were almost insurmountable ; nor is it probable that 
 the place would have been carried at all, but for a 
 measure adopted by General Graham, such as has 
 never perhaps been adopted before. Perceiving 
 that matters were almost desperate, he had re- 
 course to a desperate remedy, and ordered our own 
 artillery to fire upon the breach. Nothing could 
 be more exact or beautiful than this practice. 
 Thouijh our men stood onlv about two feet below 
 the breach, scarcely a single ball from the guns of 
 
54- THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 our batteries struck amongst them, whilst all told 
 with fearful exactness among the enemy. 
 
 This fire had been kept up only a very few mi- 
 nutes, when all at once an explosion took place, 
 such as drowned every other noise, and apparent- 
 ly confounded, for an instant, the combatants on 
 both sides. A shell from one of our mortars had 
 exploded near the train, which communicated with 
 a quantity of gunpowder placed under the breach. 
 This mine the French had intended to spring as 
 soon as our troops should have made good their 
 footing, or established themselves on the summit ; 
 but the fortunate accident just mentioned, antici- 
 pated them. It exploded whilst three hundred gre- 
 nadiers, the elite of the garrison, stood over it, and 
 Instead of sweeping the storming party into eter- 
 nity, it only cleared a way for their advance. It 
 was a spectacle as appalling and grand as the ima- 
 gination can conceive, the sight of that explosion. 
 The noise was more awful than any which I have 
 ever heard before or since ; whilst a bright flash, 
 instantly succeeded by a smoke so dense, as to ob- 
 scure all vision, produced an effect upon those who 
 witnessed it, such as no powers of language ai'e 
 adequate to describe. Such, indeed, was the effect 
 of the whole occurrence, that for perhaps half a 
 minute after, not a shot was fired on either side. 
 Both parties stood still to gaze upon the havock 
 
CHAPTER HI. 55 
 
 wliicli bad been produced ; insomucli, tbat a wliis- 
 per migbt have caught your ear for a distance of 
 several yards. 
 
 The state of stupefaction into which they were 
 at first thrown, did not, however, last long with 
 the British troops. As the smoke and dust of the 
 ruins cleared away, they beheld before them a 
 space empty of defenders, and they instantly rush- 
 ed forward to occupy it. Uttering an appalling 
 shout, the troops sprang over the dilapidated pa- 
 rapet, and the rampart was their own. Now then 
 began all those maddening scenes, which are wit- 
 nessed only in a successful storm, of flight, and 
 slaughter, and parties rallying only to be broken 
 and dispersed; till, finally, liaAdng cleared the 
 works to the right and left, the soldiers poured 
 down into the town. 
 
 To reach the streets, they were obliged to leap 
 about fifteen feet, or to make their way through 
 the burning houses which joined the wall. Both 
 courses were adopted, according as different par- 
 ties were guided in their pursuit of the flying ene- 
 my, and here again the battle was renewed. The 
 French fought with desperate courage ; they were 
 literally driven from house to house, and street to 
 street, nor was it till a late hour in the evening 
 that all opposition on their part ceased. Thou, 
 however, the governor, with little more than a 
 
56 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 thousand men, retired into the castle; whilst an- 
 other detachment, of perhaps two hundred, shut 
 themselves up in a convent. 
 
 As soon as the fighting hegan to wax faint, the 
 horrors of plunder and rapine succeeded. Fortu- 
 nately, there were few females in the place ; but 
 of the fate of the few which Avere there, I cannot 
 even now think without a shudder. The houses 
 were everywhere ransacked, the furniture wan- 
 tonly broken, the churches profaned, the images 
 dashed to pieces ; wine and spirit cellars were bro- 
 ken open, and the troops, heated already with 
 angry passions, became absolutely mad by intoxi- 
 cation. All order and discipline were abandoned. 
 The officers had no longer the slightest control 
 over their men, who, on the contrary, controlled 
 the officers ; nor is it by any means certain, that 
 several of the latter did not fall by the hands of the 
 former, when they vainly attempted to bring them 
 back to a sense of subordination. 
 
 Night had now set in, but the darkness was 
 effectually dispelled by the glare from burning 
 houses, which, one after another, took fire. The 
 morning of the 31st had risen upon St Sebastian's, 
 as neat and regularly built a town as any in Spain ; 
 long before midnight, it was one sheet of flame ; 
 and by noon on the following day, little remained 
 of it, except its smoking ashes. The houses, being 
 
CHAPTER III. 5T 
 
 lofty like those in the Old Town of Edinburgh, 
 and the streets straight and narrow, the fire flew 
 from one to another with extraordinary rapidity. 
 At first, some attempts were made to extinguish 
 it ; but these soon proved useless, and then the 
 only matter to be considered, was, how personally 
 to escape its violence. ^Nlany a migration \ras ac- 
 cordingly eff'ected from house to house, till, at last, 
 houses enough to shelter all could no longer be 
 found, and the streets became the place of rest to 
 the majority. 
 
 The spectacle which these presented was truly 
 shocking. A strong light falling upon them from 
 the burninghouses, disclosed crowds of dead, dying, 
 and intoxicated men, huddled indiscriminately 
 together. Carpets, rich tapestry, beds, curtains, 
 wearing apparel, and everything valuable to per- 
 sons in common life, were carelesslv scattered 
 about upon the bloody pavement, whilst ever and 
 anon fresh bundles of these were thrown from the 
 windows above. Here you would see a drunken 
 fellow whirling a string of watches round his head, 
 and then dashing them against the wall ; there an- 
 other, more provident, stufting his bosom with 
 such smaller articles as he most prized. Next 
 would come a party, rolling a cask of wine or spi- 
 rits before them, with loud acclamations, which in 
 an instant was tapped, and in an incredibly short 
 
 c 2 
 
58 THE SUBALTERy. 
 
 space of time emptied of its contents. Then the 
 ceaseless hum of conversation, tlie occasional laugh, 
 and wild shout of intoxication, the pitiable cries, 
 or deep moans of the wounded, and the uninter- 
 mitted roar of the flames, produced altogether such 
 a concert, as no man who listened to it can ever 
 forget. 
 
 Of these various noises, the greater number be- 
 gan gradually to subside, as night passed on ; and 
 long before dawn there was a fearful silence. Sleep 
 had succeeded inebriety with the bulk of the army, 
 — of the poor wretches who groaned and shrieked 
 three hours ago, many had expired ; and the very 
 fire had almost wasted itself by consuming every- 
 thing upon which it could feed. Nothing, there- 
 fore, could now be heard, except an occasional 
 faint moan, scarcely distinguishable from the heavy 
 breathing of the sleepers ; and even that was soon 
 heard no more. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 59 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 In order not to interrupt the connexion of my 
 narrative, I have detailed, in the preceding cliap- 
 ter, the events attendant upon the assault and cap- 
 ture of St Sebastian's, instead of drawing the read- 
 er'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, and to join that divi- 
 sion of the army which occupied the pass of Irun. 
 This order 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 30tli, 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's. We were perfectly 
 aware that the town was to be stormed on the fol- 
 lowing day, and, of course, were not reluctant to 
 
60 THE SUBALTEftK". 
 
 obey a command, which led us to the assistance 
 of our comrades. The ranks were immediately 
 formed, and by seven o'clock we had reached 
 our ground. 
 
 It was the design of Sir Thomas Graham to em- 
 bark a detachment of troops in the boats of the 
 fleet, who should assault the castle at the moment 
 w^hen 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 accord- 
 ingly abandoned, and a few boats only being man- 
 ned, 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 ac- 
 company the storming party, returned, by the mor- 
 row'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. This went on increasing every mi- 
 nute ; so that, at the moment when our leading files 
 emerged from their cover, one of the most fearful 
 thunder-storms to which I ever listened had at- 
 tained its height. Nor was this the only circum- 
 
CHAPTEn IV. 61 
 
 stance wliicli added to the terrors of that eventful 
 day. Marshal Soult, aware of the importance of St 
 Sebastian's, 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. Tliese 
 were defended only by Spanish troops, which gave 
 way almost immediately, and were driven to the 
 tops of the hills ; but here, being joined by one or 
 two brigades of British soldiers, they rallied, and 
 maintained their ground with considerable resolu- 
 tion. By this means, it so happened, that whilst 
 one division of the army was hotly engaged in the 
 assault of St Sebastian's, the divisions in front 
 were in desperate strife with the troops of Marshal 
 Soult, whilst 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's pre- 
 sented, when the dawn of the 1st of September 
 rendered objects visible. The streets, which had 
 lately been covered with the living as well as 
 the dead, were now left to the occupation of the 
 
62 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 latter; and tliese were so numerous, that it puz- 
 zled the beholder to guess where so many sleep- 
 ing 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. Un- 
 fortunately, 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 
 prevailed throughout the army. Then, too, such 
 buildings as had escaped the flames of yesterday, 
 were wantonly set on fire; and every species of 
 enormity, which circumstances would admit of, 
 was perpetrated. 
 
 Of St Sebastian's, 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 to hold out, till the 8th of Sep- 
 tember. It was, however, as we afterwards disco- 
 vered, wholly unprovided with shelter against the 
 
CHAPTER IV. 63 
 
 shells which Avcre unintcrmittiiigly thrown into 
 it ; and hence, after suffering every possible misery 
 during a whole week, the governor was at last ob- 
 liged to surrender. About nine hundred men, the 
 remains of a garrison of four thousand, became, by 
 this measure, prisoners of war ; and such Britisli 
 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 di- 
 lapidation. 
 
 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 appear- 
 ed to indicate a renewal of hostilities. Many bul- 
 lock-cars, loaded with woiuided 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 view of the real effects of war, con- 
 templated 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 
 
64 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 the breast of a soldier. And, in trutli, this Avas a 
 piteous sight. 
 
 Of all the classes of men with whom I ever had 
 intercourse, 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 dress- 
 ing other wounds was, moreover, at once clumsy 
 and inefficient ; and hence the mangled wretches 
 who passed us this morning, were not only suifer- 
 ing acutely, from the natural effect of their hurts, 
 but were put to more than ordinary torture, on ac- 
 count of the clumsy and rude manner in which 
 their hurts had been looked to. 
 
 Though I have no intention of writing a regular 
 memoir of the campaigns of 1813 and 1814, it is 
 necessary, for the purpose of rendering my jour- 
 nal intelligible, to give, in this stage of it, some ac- 
 count of the relative situations of tlie British and 
 French armies. 
 
 The two kingdoms of France and Spain aredivi- 
 ded, 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 Font- Arabia. The 
 
CHAPTER IV. 65 
 
 Bidassoa is perfectly fordable in almost all places, 
 at the distance of ten miles from its mouth ; whilst 
 immediately opposite to Font- Arabia itself, there 
 is one part where, at low tide, a passage may be 
 effected, the water reaching only to the chest of 
 him who crosses. About two or three miles from 
 Irim, which is distant something less than a league 
 from Font-Arabia, 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 ad- 
 vance with safety. 
 
 On either side of this little stream, the moun-' 
 tains, except at the passes of Irun, Roncesvalles, 
 &;c. rise so abruptly, as to form an almost impassa- 
 ble barrier between the one kingdom and the other. 
 The scenery of the Bidassoa is, in consequence, 
 romantic and striking in no ordinary degree ; for 
 not only are the faces of the hills steep and rug- 
 ged, but they are clotlied, here and there, Avith the 
 most luxuriant herbage ; whilst frequent streams 
 pour down from the summits, forming, especially 
 after rain, cascades exceedingly picturesque, and 
 in some instances almost sublime. The river itself 
 is clear, and rapid in its course ; winding, as all 
 mountain streams wind, where rocks ever and 
 anon interpose to impede tlieir progress ; and it is 
 
6Q THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 not deficient in excellent trout, as I and my friend 
 Gray found, to our frequent comfort and amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 At the period of which I am now speaking, the 
 armies of Lord Wellington and Marshal Soult oc- 
 cupied the opposite banks of this little stream. Our 
 piquets 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 di- 
 vided 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, conse- 
 quently, prevailed between them and us, by which, 
 not only the sentries were free from danger, but 
 the piquets themselves were safe from wanton sur- 
 prisal ; no attack upon an outpost being under any 
 other circumstances thought of, unless itwas 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 woful scarcity. There, however, Ave remained,, 
 till the morning of the 5th, without any event oc- 
 
CHAPTER IV. 67 
 
 curring worthy of notice, unless a fortunate pur- 
 chase of two excellent milch goats, which I effect- 
 ed, 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 oc- 
 casioned 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 calls 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 tlie summer lasts, or the 
 weather continues moderate ; nor had we, as yet, 
 experienced any, 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 we advanced to- 
 wards the base of one of the highest hills, which 
 
68 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 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 goat- 
 herds, or muleteers, who contrive to transport ar- 
 ticles of luxury and clothing into the wildest dis- 
 tricts, where human inhabitants are to be found. 
 It was, however, so rough and so precipitous, as 
 effectually to hinder our men from preserving any- 
 thing like order in their ranks, and thus caused a 
 battalion, of little more than six hundred bayo- 
 nets, 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 
 very 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 
 prospects, which every turning in the road placed 
 before 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 mid- 
 
CHAPTER IV. 69 
 
 die stature, and just passed tlic 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, whicli 
 bespoke him something more than an aide-de- 
 camp, or a general of brigade ; nor was I long left 
 in doubt. There were 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 mo- 
 ment 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 readily be imagined that I look- 
 ed at him on the present occasion with a degree 
 of admiration and respect, such as a soldier of se- 
 venteen years of age, who doats upon his profes- 
 sion, is likely to feel for the man whom he regards 
 as its brightest ornament. There was in his gene- 
 ral aspect nothing indicative of a life spent in hard- 
 
70 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 ships 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, whilst 
 a smile of satisfaction played about his mouth, 
 and told, far more plainly than words could have 
 spoken, how perfectly he felt himself at his ease. 
 How different is his appearance now ! Of course 
 I felt, as I gazed upon him, that an army under 
 his command could not be beaten ; and I had fre- 
 quent opportunities afterwards of perceiving, how 
 far such a feeling goes towards preventing a de- 
 feat. 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 which it had attained; but two full hours 
 elapsed ere the baggage came up. In the mean- 
 time, by far the greater number amongst us, my- 
 self included, threw ourselves down upon the 
 grass, and fell fast asleep ; from which we were 
 not aroused till the arrival of the tents summoned 
 us to the very agreeable occupation of boiling our 
 kettles and preparing breakfast. Tliis was quick- 
 ly commenced ; and having satisfied the cravings 
 of hunger, we dispelled every source of annoyance 
 to which we were subject. 
 
CHAPTER V. 71 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 I HAVE seldom looked upon scenery more ro- 
 mantic than that which surrounded the spot where 
 we were commanded to halt. For the last four or 
 five hours, we had been gradually ascending the 
 mountains, and now found ourselves on the top of 
 a green hill, which, when contrasted with the bold 
 heights that begirt it, might be deemed a valley, 
 though itself many thousand feet above the level 
 of the sea. One side of this grassy platform ap- 
 peared perfectly perpendicular. In this direction 
 it was separated from a steep ridge by a narrow 
 ravine, so deep and so rugged, that all attempts to 
 behold its base were fruitless. On another side, it 
 connected itself with the Quatracone ; on a third, 
 that by which we had advanced, it sloped gradual- 
 ly downwards till the view became lost in hang- 
 ing forests ; whilst behind us, only a little green 
 declivity divided it from other similar hills, which 
 afforded a comparatively smooth passage to the 
 Foundery of St Antonio. 
 
 It was here that, during the succession of bat- 
 tles which Soult had hazarded about a month be- 
 
 9 
 
72 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 fore, one division of the French army made se- 
 veral daring efforts to break the allied line ; and 
 where, in truth, the line was for a time complete- 
 ly broken. To this, the appearance of all things 
 around bore ample testimony. Not only the ground 
 of our encampment, but the whole of the pass, was 
 strewed with broken firelocks, pikes, caps, and ac- 
 coutrements ; whilst here and there a mound of 
 brown earth, breaking in upon the uniformity of 
 the green sod, marked the spot where some ten or 
 twelve brave fellows lay asleep. In the course of 
 my wanderings, too, I came upon sundry retired 
 corners, where the remains of dead bodies — such 
 remains as the wolves and vultures had left — lay 
 still unburied ; and these, by the direction in which 
 they were turned towards one another, led me to 
 conclude, that the contest had been desperate, and 
 that the British troops had been gradually borne 
 back to the very edge of the precipice. That some 
 of them were driven beyond its edge, is indeed 
 more than probable ; for, at one place in particular, 
 I remarked a little group of French and English 
 soldiers lying foot to foot, close beside it. 
 
 I need not inform my reader, that eagles, vul- 
 tures, and kites, are faithful followers of an army. 
 These were particularly abundant here — whether 
 because a more than ordinary supply of food was 
 furnished to them, or that their nests were built 
 
CHAPTER V. 73 
 
 among the rocks of the Qiiatracone, I know not ; 
 but they wheeled and careered oA^er our heads so 
 daringly, as almost to challenge a pursuit. I took 
 my gun accordingly, on the morning after our ar- 
 rival, and clambered up the face of the mountain ; 
 but all my efforts to get within shot of these wary 
 creatures, proved abortive. The fatigue of the ex- 
 cursion was, however, more than compensated by 
 the glorious prospect which it opened to my gaze; 
 and which, though it may, perhaps, be equalled, 
 cannot, I firmly believe, be surpassed in any quar- 
 ter of the world. 
 
 From the top of the Quatracone the traveller 
 looks down, not only upon the varied scenery which 
 all mountainous districts present, but upon the fer- 
 tile plains of Gascony, the waters of the Bay of 
 Biscay, and the level fields of the Asturias. The 
 towns of Bayonne, St Jean de Luz, Fontarabia, 
 Irun, St Sebastian's, Vittoria, and many others, 
 lie beneath, diminished, indeed, into mere specks, 
 but still distinguishable ; whilst, southward, forests 
 of pine, and groves of cork-trees, rugged preci- 
 pices, and dark valleys, present a striking contrast 
 to these abodes of man. The day on which I scaled 
 the mountains chanced to be particularly favoura- 
 ble. There was not a cloud in the sky, nor the 
 slightest haze in the atmosphere; and hence, though 
 I failed in obtaining the object in quest of which I 
 
 D 
 
7i THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 had quitted the camp, I returned to it in the even- 
 ing more than usually delighted with the issue of 
 my ramhle. 
 
 We remained in this delightful position only two 
 days, and on the morning of the 6th of Septem- 
 ber, once more struck our tents. Noon had pass- 
 ed, however, before we began to move ; when ta- 
 king the direction of the Foundery, we ascended 
 the chain of green hills before us, till we had at- 
 tained an eminence directly over the Bidassoa, and 
 consequently within sight of the enemy's camp. 
 Our march was by no means an agreeable one. We 
 had scarcely left our ground when the rain began 
 to fall in torrents, and as the baggage travelled 
 more slowly than ourselves, we were doomed to 
 wait a full hour upon the side of a bleak hill be- 
 fore any shelter against the storm could be pro- 
 cured. But such things in the life of a soldier are 
 too common to be much esteemed. The baggage 
 arrived at last. Our tent was speedily pitched; 
 our segars lighted ; our wine mulled ; our cloaks 
 and blankets spread upon the ground; and our- 
 selves as snug and as light-hearted as men could 
 desire to be. 
 
 It is an invariable custom, when armies are in 
 the field, for such corps as compose the advanced 
 line to muster under arms every morning an hour 
 before day-break. On the present occasion we 
 
CHAPTER V, 75 
 
 formed the advance, a few piquets of the Spanish 
 army heing- the only troops between us and tlie 
 enemy ; consequently we were roused from our 
 comfortable lairs, and ordered under arms long be- 
 fore the dawn appeared. A close column was then 
 formed, in which our men stood still as long as 
 the darkness lasted ; but when the eastern sky be- 
 gan to redden, they were permitted to pile their 
 arms, and move about. And, in truth, the extreme 
 chillness which, in these regions in particular, ac- 
 companies the first approach of daylight, render- 
 ed such an indulgence extremely acceptable. We 
 could not, however, venture far from our arms, 
 because, if an attack should be made at all, this 
 was exactly the hour at which we might look for 
 it ; but we contrived, at least, to keep our blood in 
 circulation, by running round them. 
 
 The approach of day among the Pyrenees, in the 
 month of September, is a spectacle which it falls 
 not to the lot of every man to witness ; and it is 
 one which can hardly be imagined by him who has 
 not beheld it. For some time after the grey twi- 
 light breaks, you behold around you only one huge 
 sea of mist, which, gradually rising, discloses, by 
 fits, the peak of some rugged hill, and gives to it 
 the appearance of a real island in a real ocean. By 
 and by, the mountains become everywhere distin- 
 guishable, looming, as a sailor would say, large 
 
76 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 througli the haze ; but the valleys continue long 
 enshrouded, the fogs which hang upon them yield- 
 ing only to the rays of the noon-day sun. Along 
 a valley immediately beneath our present position, 
 a considerable column of French infantry made 
 their way, during one of the late actions ; and so 
 perfect was the cover afforded by the mist, that, 
 though the sun had risen some time, they pene- 
 trated, wholly unobserved, to the brow of the hill. 
 On the present occasion no such attempt was made ; 
 but we were kept at our post till the fog had so 
 far dispersed as to render objects half way down 
 tlie gorge distinctly visible ; as soon as this occur- 
 red, the column was dismissed, and we betook our- 
 selves each to his favourite employment. 
 
 For myself, my constant occupation, whenever 
 circumstances would permit, was to wander about, 
 with a gun over my shoulder, and a dog or two 
 hunting before me, not only in quest of game, but 
 for the purpose of viewing the country to the best 
 advantage, and making, if possible, my own ob- 
 servations upon the different positions of the hos- 
 tile armies. For this purpose, I seldom took a di- 
 rection to the rear, generally strolling on towards 
 the advanced piquets, and then bending my course 
 to the right or left, according as the one or the 
 other held out to me the best prospect of obtaining 
 an accurate survey of both encampments. On the 
 
CHAPTER V. 77 
 
 present occasion, I turned my steps towards the 
 heights of San Marcial. This was the point which 
 Soult assailed with the greatest vigour, in his vain 
 attempt to raise the siege of St Sebastian's, at the 
 very time when the assault of that city was pro- 
 ceeding. It was defended on that day by Spa- 
 niards, and Spaniards only, whom Lord Welling- 
 ton's dispatch represented to have repulsed the 
 enemy with great gallantry ; for my own part, I 
 could not but admire the bravery of the troops 
 who, however superior in numbers, ventured to 
 attack a position so commanding. The heights of 
 San Marcial rise so abruptly over the bed of the 
 Bidassoa, that in many places it was only by 
 swinging myself from bough to bough, that I ma- 
 naged to descend them at all ; yet a column of fif- 
 teen thousand Frenchmen forced their way nearly 
 to the summit, and would have probably succeed- 
 ed in carrying even that, but for the opportune 
 arrival of a brigade of British guards. These latter 
 were not, indeed, engaged, but they acted as a re- 
 serve, and the very sight of them inspired the Spa- 
 nish division with courage sufficient to maintain 
 their ground, and check the farther progress of the 
 assailants. 
 
 From the brow of these heights I obtained a to- 
 lerably distinct view of the French encampment 
 for a considerable distance, both to the right and 
 
78 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 left. The range of hills which it occupied was in 
 some points less lofty, in others even more rugged 
 and more lofty than that on which I now stood. 
 Between me and it flowed the Bidassoa, through 
 a valley narrow, indeed, not more perhaps than a 
 gun-shot across, but rich and beautiful in the ex- 
 treme ; not only on account of the shaggy woods 
 which in a great measure overspread it, but be- 
 cause of the luxuriant corn-fields, meadows, and 
 farm-houses which lay scattered along both banks 
 of the river. The outposts of the French army oc- 
 cupied their own side of this vale, their sentinels 
 being posted at the river's brink ; ours, that is the 
 Spanish piquets, were stationed about half way 
 down the hill, and sent their videttes no farther 
 than its base. For the white tents of the British 
 army I looked round in vain. These were gene- 
 rally pitched in woody hollows, so as to screen 
 them entirely from the gaze of the enemy, and to 
 shelter their inmates as much as might be, from 
 the storms ; but the well-built huts of the French 
 soldiers were, in many places, distinguishable. Cer- 
 tainly, a Frenchman is far more expert in the art 
 of hutting himself than a soldier of any other na- 
 tion. The domiciles upon which I now gazed were 
 not like those lately occupied by us, composed of 
 branches of trees only, covered over with twigs 
 and'withering leaves, and devoid of chimneys by 
 
CHAPTER V. 79 
 
 which smoke might escape : on the contrary, they 
 were good, substantial cottages, with clay walls 
 and regularly thatched roofs, and erected in long- 
 straight streets ; the camp of each brigade or bat- 
 talion having more the appearance of a settled vil- 
 lage, than of the temporary abiding place of troops 
 on active service. By the aid of my telescope I 
 could perceive the French soldiers, some at drill, 
 others at play, near the huts, nor could I admire 
 the perfect light-heartedness which seemed to per- 
 vade men who had been so lately beaten. 
 
 At this period, the right of the French army oc- 
 cupied the high ground above the \'illage of An- 
 daye, and rested upon the sea ; while our left, ta- 
 king in the towns of Irun and Fontarabia, rested 
 upon the sea also. The French left was stationed 
 upon a mountain called La Rhune, and was sup- 
 ported by a strongly fortified post, upon the hill, 
 or rather the rock, of the Hermitage. Our right, 
 again, was posted in the pass of Rcncesvalles, and 
 along the mountains beyond it; but from the spot 
 which I now occupied, it could not be descried. 
 Thus the valley of the Bidassoa alone separated us 
 from one another, though that may appear a bar- 
 rier sufficient, when the extreme steepness of its 
 banks is considered. 
 
 Having remained here long enough to satisfy my 
 curiosity, I turned my steps homewards, taking 
 
80 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 the direction of the deep valley which lay beneath 
 our camp. It was not without considerable diffi- 
 culty that I succeeded in reaching its base; and 
 when there I was particularly struck with the ex- 
 treme loneliness, the more than usual stillness, of 
 all things about me. I looked round in vain for 
 game. Not a living creature seemed to tenant the 
 glen, — there was not a bird of any kind or descrip- 
 tion among the branches, but a death-like silence 
 prevailed, the very breezes being shut out, and the 
 very leaves motionless. I sat down by the edge of 
 a little stream, somewhat weary, and oppressed 
 with thirst, yet I felt a strong disinclination to 
 drink; the water looked so slimy and blue I could 
 not fancy it. I rose again and pursued its course, 
 hoping to reach some linn, where it might present 
 a more tempting appearance. At length thirst over- 
 came me, and though there was no improvement 
 in the hue of the water, I had stooped down and 
 applied my lips to its surface, when, accidentally 
 casting my eye a little to the right, I beheld a man's 
 arm sticking up from the very centre of the rivu- 
 let. It was black and putrid, and the nails had 
 dropt from some of the fingers. Of course, I start- 
 ed to my feet without tasting the polluted element, 
 nor could I resist a momentary squeamishness at 
 the idea of having narrowly escaped drinking this 
 tincture of human carcases. 
 
CHAPTER V. 81 
 
 In this manner I continued to while away four 
 or five days, strolling about amid some of the wild- 
 est scenes which nature is capable of producing, 
 whenever the weather would permit, and amusing 
 myself the best way I could, under cover of the 
 canvass, when the rains descended and the winds 
 blew. Among other matters I discovered, in the 
 course of these rambles, two remarkable caves, ha- 
 ving the appearance rather of deserted mines, tlian 
 of natural cavities ; but I had not an opportunity 
 of exploring them, for on the morning which I had 
 intended to devote to that purpose, we once more 
 abandoned our camp, and moved to a new position. 
 This was a little hill, distant about two miles from 
 Irun, a mile from the high road, at the foot of these 
 mountains which we had so lately occupied, and 
 it proved one of the most agreeable posts of any 
 which had been assigned to us since our landing. 
 There we remained stationary till the advance of 
 the army into France, and as the business of one 
 day very much resembled that of another, I shall 
 not weary my reader by narrating it in regular or- 
 der, but state, in few words, only some of the most 
 memorable of the adventures which occurred. 
 
 In the first place, the main business of the army 
 was to fortify its position, by throwing up re- 
 doubts here and there, wherever scope for a re- 
 doubt could be found. Secondly, frequent visits 
 
 D 2 
 
82 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 were paid by myself and others to Irun and Fonta- 
 rabia, towns of whicli little can be said in praise at 
 any time, and certainly nothing at present. They 
 were both entirely deserted, at least by the more 
 respectable of their inhabitants ; the latter, indeed, 
 was in ruins, crowded with Spanish soldiers, mu- 
 leteers, followers of the camp, sutlers, and adven- 
 turers. The keepers of gaming-houses had, in- 
 deed, remained, andthey reaped no inconsiderable 
 harvest from their guests ; but with the exception 
 of these, and of other characters not more pure 
 than these, few of the original tenants of houses 
 now occupied them. Again, there was a capital 
 trouting stream before us in the Bidassoa, of which 
 my friend and myself made good use. And here I 
 cannot but remark upon the excellent understand- 
 ing which prevailed between the hostile armies, and 
 their genuine magnanimity towards one another. 
 Many a time have I waded half across the little 
 river, on the opposite bank of which the enemy's 
 piquets were posted, whilst they came down hi 
 crowds only to watch my success, and to point out 
 particular pools or eddies where the best sport was 
 to be had. On such occasions, the sole precaution 
 which I took was to dress myself in scarlet, and 
 then I might approach within a few yards of their 
 sentries without risk of molestation. 
 
 It fell to my lot one morning, whilst the corps 
 
CHAPTEH V. 83 
 
 lay here, to go out in command of a foraging party. 
 We were directed to proceed along the bank of the 
 river, and to bring back as much green corn, or, 
 rather, ripe corn, — for though unreaped, the corn 
 was perfectly ripe, — as our horses could carry. On 
 this occasion I had charge of twenty men, totally 
 unarmed, and about fifty horses and mules ; and, 
 I must confess, that I was not without apprehen- 
 sion that a troop of French cavalry would push 
 across the stream, and cut us off. Of course, I 
 made every disposition for a hasty retreat, desiring 
 the men to cast loose their led animals, should any 
 such event occur, and to make the best of their 
 way to the piquets ; but happily we were permit- 
 ted to cut down the maize at our leisure, and to 
 return with it unmolested. But enough of these 
 details, — as soon as I have related the particulars 
 of an excursion which a party of us made to St 
 Sebastian's, for the purpose of amusing, as we best 
 could, the period of inaction. 
 
 I have already stated, that the citadel, after en- 
 during all the miseries of a bombardment during 
 a whole week, finally surrendered on the 8th of 
 September. It was now the 15th, when myself, 
 with two or three others — being desirous of exa- 
 mining the condition of a place which had held 
 out so long and so vigorously against tlie efforts of 
 its besiegers — mounted our horses soon after sun- 
 
THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 rise, and set forth. The road by which we tra- 
 velled was both sound and level, running through 
 the pass of Irun, a narrow winding gorge, over- 
 hung on both sides by rugged precipices, which, 
 in some places, are hardly fifty yards apart. This 
 we followed for about twelve miles, when, striking 
 off to the left, we made our way, by a sort of cross- 
 road, over hill and dale, till we found ourselves 
 among the orchards which crown the heights im- 
 mediately above the town. We had directed our 
 course thither, because a medical friend, who was 
 left in charge of such of the wounded as could not 
 be moved, had taken up his quarters there in a 
 large farm-house, which he had converted into a 
 temporary hospital ; and to him we looked for beds 
 and entertainment. Nor were we disappointed ; — 
 we found both, and both greatly superior in qua- 
 lity to any which had fallen to our lot since we 
 landed. 
 
 The reader will easily believe that a man who 
 has spent some of the best years of his life amid 
 scenes of violence and bloodshed, must have wit- 
 nessed many spectacles highly revolting to the 
 purest feelings of our nature ; but a more appal- 
 ling picture of war passed by — of war in its dark- 
 est colours, — those which distinguish it when its 
 din is over — than was presented by St Sebastian's, 
 and the country in its immediate vicinity, I cer- 
 
CHAPTER V. 85 
 
 tainly never beheld. Whilst an army is station- 
 ary in any district, you are wholly unconscious of 
 the work of devastation which is proceeding — you 
 see only the hurry and pomp of hostile operations. 
 But, when the tide has rolled on, and you return 
 by chance to the spot over which it has last swept, 
 the effect upon your own mind is such, as cannot 
 even be imagined by him who has not experienced 
 it. Little more than a week had elapsed, since 
 the division employed in the siege of St Sebastian's 
 had moved forward. Their trenches were not yet 
 filled up, nor their batteries demolished ; yet the 
 former had, in some places, fallen in of their own 
 accord, and the latter were beginning to crumble 
 to pieces. We passed them by, however, without 
 much notice. It was, indeed, impossible not to 
 acknowledge, that the perfect silence which pre- 
 vailed was far more awful than the bustle and stir 
 that lately pervaded them ; whilst the dilapidated 
 condition of the convent, and of the few cottages 
 which stood near it, stripped as they were of roofs, 
 doors, and windows, and perforated with cannon- 
 shot, inspired us, now that they were deserted, with 
 sensations somewhat gloomy. But these were tri- 
 fling — a mere nothing, when compared with the 
 feelings which a view of the town itself excited. 
 
 As we pursued the main road, and approached 
 St Sebastian's by its ordinary entrance, we were 
 
88 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 at first surprised at the slight degree of damage 
 done to its fortifications by the fire of our batte- 
 ries. The walls and battlements beside the gate- 
 way appeared wholly uninjured, the very embra- 
 sures being hardly defaced. But the delusion grew 
 gradually more faint as we drew nearer, and had 
 totally vanished before we reached the glacis. We 
 found the draw-bridge fallen down across the 
 ditch, in such a fashion^ that the endeavour to pass 
 it was not without danger. The folding-gates were 
 torn from their hinges, one lying flat upon the 
 ground, and the other leaning against the wall ; 
 whilst our own steps, as we moved along the arch- 
 ed passage, sounded loud and melancholy. 
 
 Having crossed this, we found ourselves at the 
 commencement of what had once been the princi- 
 jml street in the place. No doubt it was, in its day, 
 both neat and regular ; but of the houses, nothing 
 now remained except the outward shells, which, 
 however, appeared to be of an uniform height and 
 style of architecture. As far as I could judge, they 
 stood five stories from the ground, and were faced 
 with a sort of free-stone, so thoroughly blackened 
 and defiled, as to be hardly cognizable. The street 
 itself was, moreover, choked up with heaps of ruins, 
 among which were strewed about fragments of 
 household furniture and clothing, mixed with caps, 
 military accoutrements, round shot, pieces of shells. 
 
CHAPTER V. 87 
 
 and all the other implements of strife. Neither 
 were there wanting other evidences of the drama 
 which had been lately acted here, in the shape of 
 dead bodies, putrefying, and infecting the air with 
 the most horrible stench. Of living creatures, on 
 the other hand, not one was to be seen, not even a 
 dog or a cat ; indeed, we traversed the whole city, 
 without meeting more than six human beings. 
 These, from their dress and abject appearance, 
 struck me as being some of the inhabitants who 
 had survi'ved the assault. They looked wild and 
 haggard, and moved about here and there, po- 
 king among the ruins, as if they were either in 
 search of the bodies of their slaughtered relatives, 
 or hoped to find some little remnant of their pro- 
 ]>erty. I remarked, that two or three of them car- 
 ried bags over their arms, into which they thrust 
 every trifling article of copper or iron which came 
 in their way. 
 
 From the streets, each of which resembled, in 
 every particular, that which we had first entered, 
 we proceeded towards the breach, where a dread- 
 ful spectacle awaited us. We found it covered — 
 literally coA'^ered — with fragments of dead carcases, 
 to bury which it was evident tbat no effectual at- 
 tempt had been made. I afterwards learned, that 
 the Spanish corps which had been left to perform 
 this duty, instead of burying, endeavoured to burn 
 
88 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 the bodies ; and hence the half-consumed limbs 
 and trunks which were scattered about, the effluvia 
 arising from which was beyond conception over- 
 powering. We were heartily glad to quit this part 
 of the town, and hastened, by the nearest covered 
 way, to the Castle. 
 
 Our visit to it soon convinced us, that in the 
 idea which we had formed of its vast strength, we 
 were greatly deceived. The walls were so feebly 
 built, that in some places, where no shot could 
 have struck them, they were rent from top to bot- 
 tom by the recoil of the guns which surmounted 
 them. About twenty heavy pieces of ordnance, 
 with a couple of mortars, composed the whole ar- 
 tillery of the place ; whilst there was not a single 
 bomb-proof building in it, except the Governor's 
 house. A large bake-house, indeed, was bomb- 
 proof, because it was hollowed out of the rock; 
 but the barracks v/ere everywhere perforated and 
 in ruins. That the garrison must have suffered 
 fearfully during the week's bombardment, every- 
 thing in and about the place gave proof. Many 
 holes were dug in the earth, and covered over with 
 large stones, into which, no doubt, the soldiers had 
 crept for shelter ; but these were not capable of 
 protecting them, at least in sufficient numbers. 
 
 Among other places, we strolled into what 
 had been the hospital. It was a long room, con- 
 
CHAPTER V. 89 
 
 taining, perhaps, twenty truckle bedsteads, all of 
 which were entire, and covered with straw palli- 
 asses ; of these, by far the greater number were 
 dyed with blood ; but only one had a tenant. We 
 approached, and lifting a coarse sheet which co- 
 vered it, we found the body of a mere youth, evi- 
 dently not more than seventeen years of age. There 
 was the mark of a musket-ball through his breast ; 
 but he was so fresh — had suffered so little from 
 the effects of decay, that we feared he had been 
 left to perish of neglect. — I trust we were mista- 
 ken. We covered him up again, and quitted the 
 place. 
 
 We had now gratified our curiosity to the full, 
 and turned our backs upon St Sebastian's, not 
 without a chilling sense of the horrible points in 
 our profession. But this gradually wore off as we 
 approached the quarters of our host, and soon gave 
 place to the more cheering influence of a substan- 
 tial dinner, and a few cups of indifferently good 
 wine. We slept soundly after our day's journey, 
 and, starting next morning with the lark, we re- 
 turned to our beautiful encampment above Irun. 
 
90 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Thus passed nearly four weeks, the weather 
 varying, as at this season it is everywhere liable 
 to vary, from wet to dry, and from storm to calm. 
 The troops worked sedulously at the redoubts, till 
 no fewer than seven-and-thirty, commanding and 
 flanking all the most assailable points between 
 Fontarabia and the Foundery, were completed. 
 For my own part, I pursued my ordinary routine, 
 shooting or fishing all day long, whenever leisure 
 was afforded, or rambling about amid scenery, 
 grand beyond all power of language to describe. 
 In one of these excursions, I stumbled upon an- 
 other cave, similar, in all respects, to those which 
 I had before been hindered from exploring. De- 
 termined not to be disappointed this time, I re- 
 turned immediately to the camp, where, providing 
 myself with a dark lantern, and taking a drawn 
 sword in my hand, I hastened back to the spot. 
 As I drew near, the thought that very possibly it 
 might be a har]x>ur for wolves, came across me, 
 and half tempted me to stifle my curiosity ; but 
 curiosity overpowered caution, and I entered. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 91 
 
 Like most adventures of the kind, mine was whol- 
 ly without danger. The caA^e proved, as I sus- 
 pected it would, to be a deserted mine, extending 
 several hundred feet under-ground, and ending in 
 a heap of rubbish, as if the roof had given way 
 and choked up farther progress. I found in it only 
 an old iron three-legged pot, which I brought 
 away with me, as a trophy of my hardihood. 
 
 It was now the 5th of October, and in spite of 
 numerous rumours of a movement, the army still 
 remained quiet. Marshal Soult, however, appear- 
 ed fully to expect our advance, for he caused a 
 number of hand-bills to be scattered through the 
 camp, by the market people, most of whom were 
 in his pay, warning us, that Gascony had risen 
 en masse ; and that if we dared to violate the sa- 
 cred soil, every man who ventured beyond the 
 camp would undoubtedly be murdered. These 
 hand-bills were printed in French and Spanish ; 
 and they came in, in increased quantities, about 
 the time that intelligence of Buonaparte's disas- 
 trous campaign in Russia reached us. Of course, 
 we paid to them no attention whatever, nor had 
 they the most remote effect in determining the 
 plans of our leader, who probably knew, as well 
 as the French general, how affairs really stood. 
 
 I shall not soon forget the jth, the 6th, or the 
 7th of October. The first of these davs I had 
 
92 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 spent among the woods, and returned to my tent 
 in the evening, with a tolerably well-stored game- 
 bag ; but though fagged with my morning exer- 
 cise, I could not sleep. After tossing about upon 
 my blanket, till near midnight, I rose, and pull- 
 ing on my clothes, walked out. The moon was 
 shining in cloudless majesty, and lighted up a 
 scene such as I never looked upon before, and shall 
 probably never look upon again. I had admired 
 the situation of our camp during the day, as it 
 well deserved ; but when I viewed it by moon- 
 light, — the tents moist with dew, and glittering in 
 the silver rays which fell upon them, with a grove 
 of dwarf oaks partly shading them, and the stu- 
 pendous cliffs distinctly visible in the back ground, 
 I thought, and I think now, that the eye of man 
 never beheld a scene more romantic or more beau- 
 tiful. There was just breeze enough to produce a 
 slight waving of the branches, which, joined to 
 the unceasing roar of a little waterfall at no great 
 distance, and the occasional voice of a sentinel, 
 who challenged as any one approached his post, 
 produced an effect altogether too powerful for me 
 to pourtray, at this distance of time, even to myself. 
 I walked about for two hours, perfectly enchant- 
 ed, though I could not help thinking, that thou- 
 sands who slept securely under that moon's rays, 
 
CHAPTER VI. 93 
 
 would sleep far more soundly under the rays of 
 another. 
 
 I returned to my couch of fern about two in the 
 morning, and slept, or rather dosed, till day- 
 break ; then, having waited the usual time under 
 arms with the men, I set off again, with my dog 
 and gun, to the mountains. But I was weary with 
 last night's watching, and a friend, in something 
 of my own turn of mind, overtaking me, we sat 
 down to bask in the sun, upon a lofty rock which 
 overlooked the camp. There we remained till the 
 collecting clouds warned us of a coming storm ; 
 when, hurrying home, the information so long ex- 
 pected was communicated to us, namely, that we 
 were to attack on the morrow. 
 
 I am no fire-eater, nor ever professed to be one ; 
 but I confess that the news produced in me very 
 pleasurable sensations. We had been stationary, 
 in our present position, so long, that all the objects 
 around had become familiar, and variety is every- 
 thing in the life of a soldier. Besides, there was 
 the idea of invading France, an idea which, a few 
 years before, would have been scouted as vision- 
 ary ; this created a degree of excitement highly 
 animating. Not that I was thoughtless of what 
 might be my own fate ; on the contrary, I never 
 yet went into action without making up my mind 
 beforehand, for the worst. But you become so 
 
94 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 familiarized with death, after you have spent a few 
 months amid such scenes as I had lately witness- 
 ed, that it loses most of its terrors, and is consi- 
 dered, only as a blank is considered in the lottery 
 of which you may have purchased a ticket. It 
 may come, and if so, why, there is no help for 
 it ; but you may escape, and then there are new 
 scenes to be witnessed, and new adventures to go 
 through. 
 
 As the attack was to be made at an early hour, 
 the troops were ordered to lie down as soon after 
 dcirk as possible, in order that they might be fresh, 
 and in good spirits for the work of to-morrow. In 
 the meanwhile, the clouds continued to collect over 
 the whole face of the sky, and the extreme sultri- 
 ness of the atmosphere indicated an approaching 
 thunder-storm. The sun went down, lowering 
 and ominously, but it was not till the first night- 
 relief had been planted, that is, about eight or nine 
 o'clock in the evening, that the storm burst upon 
 us. Then indeed it came, and with a degree of 
 sublimity which accompanies such a storm, only 
 amid such scenery. The lightning was more vivid 
 than any which I recollect ever to have seen, and 
 the peals of thunder, echoed back as they were by 
 the rocks and mountains around, sounded more 
 like one continued rending of the elements, than 
 the intermitted discharges of an electric cloud. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 95 
 
 Happily, little or no rain fell, at least for a time, 
 by which means I was enabled to sit at the door 
 of my tent and watch the storm, nor have I been 
 frequently more delighted than with its progress. 
 Immediately opposite to where I sat, was a val- 
 ley or glen, beautifully wooded ; at the bottom of 
 which flowed a little rivulet, which came from the 
 waterfall already alluded to. This was complete- 
 ly laid open to me at every flash, as well as the 
 whole side of the mountain bevond it ; near tlie 
 
 ft ' 
 
 summit of which, a body of Spanish soldiers w^ere 
 posted in a lonely cottage. It was exceedingly cu- 
 rious to catch sight of this hut, with warlike fi- 
 gures moving about it, and arms piled beside it ; 
 of the bold heights around, with the stream tum- 
 bling from its rocky bed, and the thick groves, and 
 the white tents — and then, to have the whole hid- 
 den from you in a moment. I sat and feasted my 
 eyes, till the rain began to descend; when the 
 storm gradually abating, I stretched myself on the 
 gi'ound, and without undressing, wrapt myself in 
 my cloak, and fell asleep. 
 
 It was, as nearly as I can now recollect, about 
 four o'clock next morning, w^hen I was roused 
 from my slumber by the orderly serjeant of the 
 company. By this time the storm had completely 
 passed away, and the stars were shining in a sky 
 perfectly cloudless. The moon had, however, gone 
 
96 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 dowii, nor was there any other light except what 
 they afforded, to aid the red glare from the decay- 
 ing fires, wliich, for want of fuel, were fast dying 
 out. The effect of this dull light, as it fell upon 
 the soldiers, mustering in solemn silence, was ex- 
 ceedingly fine. You could not distinguish either 
 the uniform or the features of the men ; you saw 
 only groups collecting together, with arms in their 
 hands ; and it was impossible not to associate in 
 your own mind the idea of banditti, rather than of 
 regular troops, with the wild forest scenery around. 
 Of course, I started to my feet at the first sum- 
 mons ; and having buckled on my sabre, stowed 
 away some cold meat, biscuit, and rum, in a ha- 
 versack, and placed it, with my cloak, across the 
 back of my horse, and swallowed a cup or two of 
 coffee, I felt myself ready and willing for any kind 
 of service whatever. 
 
 In little more than a quarter of an hour, the 
 corps was under arms, and each man in his place. 
 We had already been joined by two other batta- 
 lions, forming a brigade of about fifteen hundred 
 men; and about an hour before sun-rise, just as 
 the first streaks of dawn were appearing in the 
 east, the word was given to march. Our tents 
 were not, on this occasion, struck. They were 
 left standing, with the baggage and mules, under 
 the protection of a guard, for the purpose of de- 
 
 10 
 
CHAPTER VI. 97 
 
 ceiving the enemy's piquets, in whose view they 
 were exposed, into the belief that notliing was go- 
 ing forward. This measure was rendered neces- 
 sary, because the state of the tide promised not 
 to admit of our fording the river till past seven 
 o'clock ; long before which hour broad day-light 
 would set in ; and hence, the whole object of our 
 early movement was to gain, unobserved, a sort of 
 hollow, close to the banks of the Bidassoa, from 
 which, as soon as the stream should be passable, 
 we might emerge, 
 
 As we moved in profound silence, we reached 
 our place of ambuscade without creating the small- 
 est alarm ; where we laid ourselves down upon the 
 ground, for the double purpose of more effectually 
 avoiding a display, and of taking as much rest as 
 possible. Whilst lying here, we listened, with 
 eager curiosity, to the distant tread of feet, which 
 marked the coming up of other divisions, and to 
 the lumbering sound of artillery, as it rolled along 
 the high road. The latter increased upon us every 
 moment, till at length three ponderous eighteen- 
 pounders reached the hollow, and began to ascend 
 the rising ground immediately in front of us. 
 These were placed in battery, so as to command 
 the ford, across which a stone bridge, now in ruins, 
 was thrown ; and by which we knew, from the po- 
 sition which we now occupied, that we were des- 
 
 E 
 
98 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 lined to proceed. By what infatuation it arose, 
 that all those preparations excited no suspicion 
 among the enemy, whose sentinels were scarcely 
 half musket-shot distant, I know not; but the 
 event proved, that they expected this morning 
 anything rather than an attack. 
 
 Before I proceed to describe the circumstances 
 of the battle, I must endeavour to convey to the 
 minds of my non-military readers something like 
 a clear notion of the nature of the position occu- 
 pied by the right of the French army. I have al- 
 ready said, that its extreme flank rested upon the 
 sea. Its more central brigades occupied a chain 
 of heights, not, indeed, deserving of the name of 
 mountains, but still sufficiently steep to check the 
 progress of an advancing force, and full of natural 
 inequalities, well adapted to cover the defenders 
 from the fire of the assailants. Along the face of 
 these heights is built the straggling village of An- 
 daye ; and immediately in front of them runs the 
 frith or mouth of the Bidassoa, fordable only in 
 two points, one opposite to Fontarabia, and the 
 other in the direction of the main road. Close to 
 the French bank of the river, is a grove, or strip 
 of willows, with several vineyards, and other en- 
 closures, admirably calculated for skirmishers ; 
 whilst the ford beside the ruined bridge, the only 
 one by which artillery could pass, was completely 
 
CHAPTER VI. 99 
 
 commanded by a fortified house, or tete-du-pont^ 
 filled with infantry. The main road, again, on the 
 French side of the river, vrinds among over-hang- 
 ing precipices, not, indeed, so rugged as those in the 
 pass of Irun, but sufficiently bold to place troops 
 which might occupy them in comparative security, 
 and to render one hundred resolute men more than 
 a match for a thousand who might attack them. 
 Yet these were the most assailable points in the 
 whole position, all beyond the road being little 
 else than perpendicular cliffs, shaggy with pine 
 and ash trees. 
 
 Such was the nature of the ground which we 
 were commanded to carry. As day dawned, I 
 could distinctly see that the old town of Fontara- 
 bia was filled with British soldiers. The fifth di- 
 vision, which had borne the brunt of the late siege, 
 and which, since the issue of their labours, had 
 been permitted to rest somewhat in the rear, had 
 been moved up on the preceding evening; and 
 reaching Fontarabia a little before midnight, had 
 spent some hours in the streets. Immediately in 
 rear of ourselves, again, and in the streets of Irun, 
 about eight thousand of the Guards and of the 
 German Legion were reposing ; whilst a brigade 
 of cavalry just showed its leading files, at a turn- 
 ing in the main road, and a couple of nine-pound- 
 ers stood close beside them. It was altogether a 
 
100 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 beautiful and an animating sight, not fewer than 
 fifteen or twenty thousand British and Portuguese 
 troops being distinguishable at a single glance. 
 
 Away to our right, and on the tops of San Mar- 
 cial, the Spanish divisions took their stations ; nor 
 could I avoid drawing something like an invidious 
 comparison between them and their gallant allies. 
 Half clothed, and badly fed, though sufficiently 
 armed, their appearance certainly promised no 
 more than their actions, for the most part, veri- 
 fied. Not that the Spanish peasantry are deficient 
 in personal courage, (and their soldiers were, ge- 
 nerally speaking, no otlier than peasants with mus- 
 kets in their hands,) but their corps were so mi- 
 serably officered, and their commissariat so miser- 
 ably supplied, that the chief matter of surprise is, 
 how they came to fight at all. Even at this period 
 of the war, when their country might be said to 
 be completely freed from the invader, the princi- 
 pal subsistence of the Spanish army consisted in 
 the heads of Indian corn, which they gathered for 
 themselves in the fields, and cooked by roasting 
 them over their fires. 
 
 It will readily be imagined, that we watched 
 the gradual fall of the river with intense anxiety, 
 turning our glasses ever and anon towards the 
 French lines, throughout which all remained most 
 unaccountably quiet. At length a movement could 
 
CHAPTER VI. 101 
 
 be distinguished among the troops which occupied 
 Fontarabia. Their skirmishers began to emerge 
 from under cover of the houses, and to approacli 
 the river, when instantly the three eighteen-pound- 
 ers opened from the heights above us. This was 
 the signal for a general advance. Our column, 
 likewise, threw out its skirmishers, which, hasten- 
 ing towards the ford, were saluted by a sharp fire 
 of musketry from the enemy's piquets, and from 
 the garrison of the tete-du-pont. But the latter was 
 speedily abandoned as our people pressed through 
 the stream, and our artillery kept up an incessant 
 discharge of round and grape shot upon it. 
 
 The French piquets were driven in, and our 
 troops established on the opposite bank, with hard- 
 ly any loss on our part, though those who crossed 
 by Fontarabia were obliged to hold their firelocks 
 and cartouch-boxes over their heads, to keep them 
 dry ; and the water reached considerably above the 
 knees beside the bridge. The alarm had, however, 
 been communicated to the columns in rear, which 
 hastily formed upon the heights, and endeavoured, 
 but in vain, to keep possession of Andaye. Tliat 
 ^illage was carried in gallant style by a brigade of 
 the fifth division, whilst the first, moving steadily 
 along the road, dislodged from their post the gar- 
 rison of the hills which commanded it, and crown- 
 ed the heights almost without opposition. \ gene- 
 
102 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 ral panic seemed to have seized the enemy. In- 
 stead of boldly charging us, as we moved forward 
 in column, they fired their pieces, and fled with- 
 out pausing to reload them, nor was anything like 
 a determined stand attempted, till all their works 
 had fallen into our hands, and much of their artil- 
 lery was taken. It was one of the most perfect, 
 and yet extraordinary surprises, which I ever be- 
 held. 
 
 There were not, however, wanting many brave 
 fellows among the French officers, who exerted 
 themselves strenuously to rally their terrified com- 
 rades, and to restore the battle. Among these I 
 remarked one in particular. He was on horse- 
 back; and, riding among a flying battalion, he 
 used every means which threat and entreaty could 
 produce, to stop them ; and he succeeded. The bat- 
 talion paused, its example was followed by others, 
 and in five minutes a well-formed line occupied 
 what looked like the last of a range of green hills, 
 on the other side of a valley which we were de- 
 scending. 
 
 This sudden movement on the part of the ene- 
 my was met by a corresponding formation on ours ; 
 we wheeled into line and advanced. Not a word 
 was spoken, nor a shot fired, till our troops had 
 reached nearly half way across the little hollow, 
 when the French, raising one of their discordant 
 
CHAPTER VI. ]03 
 
 yells, — a sort of shout, in which every man halloos 
 for himself, without regard to the tone or time of 
 those about him, — fired a volley. It was well direct- 
 ed, and did considerable execution ; but it check- 
 ed not our approach for a moment. Our men re- 
 plied to it with a hearty British cheer, and giving 
 them back their fire, rushed on to the charge. 
 
 In this they were met with great spirit by the 
 enemy. I remarked the same individual, who had 
 first stopped their flight, ride along the front of 
 his men, and animate them to their duty, nor was 
 it without very considerable difficulty, and after 
 having exchanged several discharges of musketry, 
 that we succeeded in getting within charging dis- 
 tance. Then, indeed, another cheer was given, and 
 the French, without waiting for the rush, once 
 more broke their ranks and fled. Their leader was 
 still as active as before. He rode among the men, 
 reproached, exhorted, and even struck those near 
 him with his sword, and he was once more about 
 to restore order, when he fell. In an instant, how- 
 ever, he rose again and mounted another horse, 
 but he had hardly done so when a ball took eff*ect 
 in his neck, and he dropped dead. The fall of this 
 one man decided the day upon the heights of An- 
 daye. The French troops lost all order and all dis- 
 cipline, and making their way to the rear, each by 
 himself as he best could, they left us in undisputed 
 possession of the field. 
 
104 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 On the riglit of our army, however, and on the 
 extreme left of the enemy, a much more deter- 
 mined opposition was offered. There Soult had 
 added to the natural strength of his position, hy 
 throwing up redoubts and batteries upon every 
 commanding point, and hence, it was not without 
 suffering a very considerable loss, that the light 
 division succeeded in turning it. All attempts, in- 
 deed, to carry the Hermitage, failed, though they 
 were renewed with the most daring resolution, till 
 a late hour in the night. But of the operations of 
 the army in these quarters, I could see nothing, 
 and therefore I will not attempt to describe them. 
 
 The day was far spent when our troops, wearied 
 as much with the pursuit as with fighting, were 
 commanded to halt, and to lie down in brigades 
 and divisions along the heights which the enemy 
 Jiad abandoned. With us all was now perfectly 
 quiet ; but the roar of musketry, and the thunder 
 of the cannon, still sounded on our right. As the 
 darkness set in, too, the flashes became every mo- 
 ment more and more conspicuous, and produced, 
 on account of the great uneven ness of the ground, 
 a remarkably beautiful effect. Repeated assaults be- 
 ing still made upon the Hermitage rock, the whole 
 side of that conical hill seemed in a blaze, whilst 
 every valley and eminence around it sparkled from 
 time to time like the hills and valleys of a tropical 
 
CHAPTER VI. 105 • 
 
 climate, when the fire-flies arc out in millions. 
 Nor were other and stronger lights wanting. Our 
 troops, in the hurry of the battle, had set fire to 
 the huts of the French soldiers, which now burst 
 forth, and cast a strong glare over the entire ex- 
 tent of the field. On the whole it was a glorious 
 scene, and tended much to keep up the degree of 
 excitement which had pervaded our minds during 
 the day. 
 
 Our loss, I mean the loss of the corps to which 
 I was attached, chanced to be trifling. No parti- 
 cular companion, or intimate acquaintance of mine 
 at least, had fallen, consequently there was no- 
 thing to destroy the feeling of pure delight, which 
 the meanest individual in an army experiences 
 when that army has triumphed; nor do I recollect 
 many happier moments of my life, than when I 
 stretched myself this evening beside a fire, near 
 my friend Gray, to chat over the occurrences of 
 the day. The Quarter-master coming up soon 
 after with a supply of provisions and rum, added, 
 indeed, not a little to my satisfaction, for the stock 
 which I had provided in the morning was long ago 
 disposed of among those who had been less provi- 
 dent ; and my meal was followed by a sleep, sucli 
 as kings might envy, though the heavens were my 
 canopy, and the green turf was my bed. 
 
 E 2 
 
106 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 About an hour after sunrise, on the following 
 morning, the tents and baggage, which had been 
 left on the Spanish side of the river, came up ; and 
 we were once more enabled to shelter ourselves 
 against the inclemency of the weather. And it 
 was well that their arrival was not longer defer- 
 red, for we had hardly time to pitch the former, 
 when a heavy storm of wind and rain began, 
 which, lasting with little intermission during two 
 whole days, rendered our situation the reverse of 
 agreeable. The position which we occupied, was, 
 moreover, exceedingly exposed, our camp stretch- 
 ing along the ridge of a bleak hill, totally bare of 
 every description of wood ; indeed, the only fuel 
 now within our reach, consisted of furze, the green 
 and prickly parts of which we chopped and gave as 
 forage to our horses, whilst the stems and smaller 
 branches supplied us with very indifferent mate- 
 rial for our fires. 
 
 The left column of the army had not long esta- 
 blished itself in France, when crowds of sutlers, 
 and other camp-followers, began to pour in. These 
 
CHAPTER VII. 107 
 
 persons, taking possession of such of the enemy's 
 huts as had escaped the violence of our soldiers, 
 opened their shops in due form along the high 
 road, and soon gave to the spot which they occu- 
 pied the appearance of a settled village during the 
 season of a fair, when booths, and caravans of 
 wild beasts, crowd its little street. This village 
 became, before long, a favourite resort of the idle, 
 and of such as still retained a few dollars in their 
 purses, and many were the bottles of nominal 
 brown-stout which, night after night, were con- 
 sumed at the sign of the " Jolly Soldier." 
 
 I hardly recollect any period of my active life 
 more devoid of interesting occurrences, than that 
 which intervened between the crossing of the Spa- 
 nish border, and the advance of the army towards 
 Bayonne. We continued on the heights of An- 
 daye, from the 8th of October till the 9th of No- 
 vember, during the greater part of which time the 
 weather was uncommonly severe, cold showers of 
 rain unceasingly falling, and tremendous gusts of 
 wind prevailing ; indeed, we began to fear at last, 
 that nothing more would be done this season, and 
 that we should either retire to the towns of Irun 
 and Fontarabia, or spend the winter under can- 
 vass. That we were wantonly kept here, no one 
 imagined. On the contrary, we were quite aware, 
 that nothing but the protracted fall of Pampeluna 
 
108 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 liindered our advance, and joyful was the news 
 whicli at length reached us, that that important 
 city had surrendered. 
 
 Of course, I did not confine myself to my tent, 
 or within the bounds of the camp, all this while. 
 I shot and fished, as usual — made excursions to 
 the rear and to the front, as the humour directed, 
 and adopted every ordinary expedient to kill time. 
 On these occasions adventures were not always 
 wanting, but they were for the most part such as 
 would excite but little interest were they repeated. 
 I recollect one, however, which deserves narra- 
 tion, more perhaps than the others, and that I will 
 detail. 
 
 Whilst the British army occupied its position 
 along the Spanish bank of the Bidassoa, a vast 
 number of desertions took place ; insomuch as to 
 cause a serious diminution of its strength. As this 
 was an event which had but rarely occurred be- 
 fore, many opinions were hazarded as to its cause. 
 For my own part, I attributed it entirely to the 
 operation of superstitious terror on the minds of 
 the men, and for this reason. It is generally the 
 custom, in planting sentinels in the immediate pre- 
 sence of an enemy — to station them in pairs, so 
 that one may patrol as far as the next post, whilst 
 the other remains steady on his ground. Perhaps, 
 too, the wish of giving greater confidence to the 
 
CHAPTER VII. 109 
 
 men themselves, may liave some weight in dicta- 
 ting tlic measure ; at all events, tliere can be no 
 doubt tliat it produces that effect. Such, however, 
 was the nature of the ground covered by our pi- 
 quets among the Pyrenees, that in many places 
 there was hardly room for a couple of sentinels to 
 occupy a single post, whilst it was only at the 
 mouths of the various passes that two were more 
 desirable than one for securing the safety of the 
 army. Rugged as the country was, however, al- 
 most every foot of it had been the scene of action, 
 whilst the dead, falling among rocks and cliffs, 
 were left, in various instances, from necessity, un- 
 buried ; and exactly in those parts where the dead 
 lay unburied, single sentinels were planted. That 
 both soldiers and sailors are frequently supersti- 
 tious, every person knows ; nor can it be pleasant 
 for the strongest-minded among them to spend two 
 or three hours of a stormy night beside a mangled 
 and half-devoured carcase ; indeed I have been my- 
 self, more than once, remonstrated with, for desi- 
 ring as brave a fellow as any in the corps, to keep 
 guard near one of his fallen comrades. " I don't 
 care for living men," said the soldier ; " but, for 
 Godsake, sir, don't keep me beside Jiim f^ and 
 wherever I could yield to the remonstrance, I in- 
 variably did so. My own opinion, therefore, was, 
 that many of our sentries became so overpowered 
 
110 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 by superstition, that they could not keep their 
 ground. They knew, however, that if they return- 
 ed to the piquet, a severe punishment awaited 
 them; and hence they went over to the enemy, 
 rather than endure the misery of a diseased ima- 
 gination. 
 
 As a proof that my notions were correct, it was 
 remarked, that the army had no sooner descended 
 from the mountains, and taken up a position which 
 required a chain of double sentinels to be renew- 
 ed, than desertion in a very great degree ceased. 
 A few instances, indeed, still occurred, as will al- 
 ways be the case where men of all tempers are 
 brought together, as in an army; but they bore 
 not the proportion of one to twenty towards those 
 which took place among the Pyrenees. To put a 
 stop to this entirely, a severe order was issued, po- 
 sitively prohibiting every man from passing the 
 advanced videttes ; and it was declared, that who- 
 ever was caught on what is termed the neutral 
 ground — that is, on the ground between the ene- 
 my's out-posts and our own, should henceforth be 
 treated as a deserter. 
 
 I had ridden towards the front one morning, for 
 the purpose of visiting a friend in the 5th division, 
 when I learned, that three men had been seized a 
 few days before, half-way between the two chains 
 of posts, and that one of them had confessed that 
 
CHAPTER VII. Ill 
 
 their intention was to desert. A court-martial was 
 immediately ordered ; tlie prisoners were con- 
 demned to be shot ; and this was the day on which 
 the sentence was to be carried into execution. I 
 consequently found the division, on my arrival, 
 getting under arms ; and being informed of the cir- 
 cumstances, I determined, after a short struggle 
 with my weaker feelings, to witness the proceed- 
 ing. 
 
 It was, altogether, a most solemn and impres- 
 sive spectacle. The soldiers took their stations, 
 and formed their ranks, without speaking a word ; 
 and they looked at one another with that peculiar 
 expression, Avhich, without seeming to imply any 
 suspicion of the impropriety of the measure, indi- 
 cated great reluctance to become spectators of it. 
 The same feeling evidently pervaded the minds of 
 the officers ; indeed you could almost perceive the 
 sort of shudder which ran through the frames of 
 all who were on parade. 
 
 The place appointed for the execution was a lit- 
 tle elevated plain, a few hundred yards in front of 
 the camp, and near the piquet from which the 
 culprits had deserted. Hither the different batta- 
 lions directed their steps, and the whole division 
 being formed into three sides of a hollow square, 
 the men grounded their arms, and stood still. At 
 the vacant side of this square, a grave was dug, 
 
112 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 the earth, which had been excavated, being piled 
 up on its opposite bank ; and this, as the event pro- 
 ved, was the spot to be occupied by the prisoners. 
 
 We had stood thus about five minutes, when the 
 muffled drums of the corps to which the culprits 
 belonged, were heard beating the dead-march ; and 
 they themselves, handcuffed and surrounded by 
 their guards, made their appearance. One was a 
 fine young man, tall, and well-made ; another was 
 a dark, thick-set, little man, about forty years of 
 age ; and the third had nothing remarkable in his 
 countenance, except an expression of deep cunning 
 and treachery. They all moved forward with con- 
 siderable firmness, and took their stations on the 
 mound, when, attention being ordered, a staff-offi- 
 cer advanced into the centre of the square, and 
 read aloud the proceedings of the Court. By these, 
 sentence of death was passed upon all three, but 
 the most villainous-looking among them was re- 
 commended to mercy, on the score of his having 
 added the guilt of treachery to his other crimes. 
 
 As soon as the reading was finished, the prison- 
 ers were commanded to kneel down upon the 
 ground, and a handkerchief was tied over the eyes 
 of each. Whilst this was doing, I looked round, 
 not so much from curiosity as to give a momentary 
 relief to my own excited feelings, upon the coun- 
 tenances of the soldiers. They were, one and all 
 
CHAPTER VII. 113 
 
 of them, deadly pale, whilst the teeth of many were 
 set closely together, and their very breaths seem- 
 ed to be repressed. It was altogether a most har- 
 rowing moment. 
 
 The eyes of the prisoners being now tied up, the 
 guard was withdrawn from around them, and took 
 post about ten yards in their front. As soon as 
 this was done, the same staflf-ofiicer who had read 
 the proceedings of the trial, calling to the informer 
 by name, ordered him to rise, for that the com- 
 mander of the forces had attended to the recom- 
 mendation of his judges, and spared his life. But 
 the poor wretch paid no attention to the order ; I 
 question, indeed, whether he heard it; for he knelt 
 there as if rooted to the spot, till a file of men re- 
 moved him in a state of insensibility. What the 
 feelings of his companions in crime must have been 
 at this moment I know not, but their miseries were 
 of short duration ; for, a signal being given, about 
 sixteen soldiers fired, and they were instantly num- 
 bered with the dead. The little man, I observed, 
 sprang into the air when he received his wounds, 
 the other fell flat upon his face ; but neither gave 
 the slighest symptom of vitality after. 
 
 The discharge of the muskets in the face of the 
 culprits, was followed by a sound as if every man 
 in the di^dsion had been stifled for the last five mi- 
 nutes, and now at length drew in his breath. It 
 
114 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 was not a groan, nor a sigh, but a sob, like that 
 which you unconsciously utter after dipping your 
 head under water ; and now all excitement was at 
 an end. The men were dead ; they died by mus- 
 ket-shots ; and these were occurrences, viewing 
 them in the abstract, far too common to be much 
 regarded. But in order to give to the execution 
 its full effect, the division formed into open column 
 of battalions, and marched round the grave, on 
 the brink of which the bodies lay ; after which each 
 corps filed off to its tents, and long before dark the 
 scene of the morning was forgotten. Not but that 
 it produced a good effect, by checking the preva- 
 lence of the offence of which it was the punish- 
 ment ; but pity soon died away, and every feeling 
 of disgust, if, indeed? any such feeling had at all 
 arisen, was obliterated. The bodies were thrown 
 into the hole and covered up, and I returned to my 
 tent to muse upon what I had seen. 
 
 I have stated, that on the third of November 
 intelligence of the fall of Pampeluna reached us. 
 From that day we began to calculate, in real ear- 
 nest, upon a speedy renewal of operations, and to 
 speculate upon the probable extent of our progress 
 ere a new halt should be ordered, or the troops 
 placed in quarters for the winter. But so much 
 rain had fallen during the preceding fortnight, that 
 the cross-roads were rendered wholly impassable, 
 
CHAPTER VII. 115 
 
 and, what was worse, there appeared no promise 
 of a change in the weather. 
 
 I had the honour to be personally acquainted 
 with the distinguished officer, whose unlooked-for 
 death caused, of late, so great a sensation of sor- 
 row throughout Scotland; I mean the Earlof Hope- 
 toun, at that period Sir John Hope. Sir John 
 had lately joined the army, relieving Sir Thomas 
 Graham in the guidance of the left column, and 
 filling the office of second in command under Lord 
 Wellington. Whilst our division occupied the 
 heights of Andaye, I spent several agreeable even- 
 ings in his company ; the particulars attending one 
 of which, as they had, at the time at least, a more 
 than ordinary degree of interest in them, I shall take 
 the liberty to repeat. 
 
 On the seventh of November I dined with the 
 General. We sat down to the table about six 
 o'clock, and were beginning to experience as much 
 satisfaction as good cheer and pleasant company 
 can produce, when an orderly dragoon rode into 
 the court-yard of the house at full speed. He was 
 immediately admitted, and, being ushered into the 
 room where we sat, he handed a sealed packet 
 to our host. Sir John opened it, glanced his eye 
 over its contents, put it into his pocket, and, mo- 
 tioning to the orderly to withdraw, renewed the 
 conversation which had been interrupted. Though 
 
116 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 more than half suspicious that the packet contain- 
 ed intelligence of importance, we, I mean the Ge- 
 neral's guests and staff, soon returned to our usual 
 lively chat, when the clattering of another horse's 
 hoofs was heard, and Colonel Delancy entered. He 
 was accompanied by an officer of the corps of 
 guides, and requesting permission to hold a few 
 minutes' private conversation with Sir John Hope, 
 they all three retired together. 
 
 '' We shall liave something to do before twenty- 
 four hours pass," said one of the aides-de-camp ; 
 " Delancy always brings warlike communications 
 with him." — " So much the better," was the ge- 
 neral reply. " Let us drink to our host, and suc- 
 cess to to-morrow's operations." The toast was 
 hardly finished, when Sir John returned, bringing 
 with him only the officer of the corps of guides ; 
 Delancy was gone ; but of the purport of the com- 
 munication not a hint was dropped, and the even- 
 ing passed on as if no such communication had 
 been made. 
 
 About nine o'clock our party broke up, and we 
 were wishing our friends good-night, when a 
 French officer, who had deserted from his corps, 
 was brought in. He was civilly, but very coolly 
 received. He had little information to give, ex- 
 cept that a batch of conscripts had lately joined the 
 army, most of whom were either old men or boys ; 
 
CHAPTER VII. 117 
 
 SO thorouglily was the youtli of France by this time 
 wasted through a continuance of wars. We, wljo 
 were guests, stayed not, however, to liear liim out, 
 but mounting our horses, returned each to his tent. 
 On reaching the camp of my own corps, I found, 
 as, indeed, I had expected to find, that tlie order 
 for an attack was issued, and tliat tlie brigade was 
 to be under arms by four o'clock next morning. 
 Once more, therefore, I made up my mind for the 
 worst, and having instructed my friend as to the 
 manner in which I wished my little property to be 
 disposed of; having assigned my sword to one, my 
 pelisse to another, and my faithful dog to a third, 
 I was, if you please, methodist enough to recom- 
 mend my soul to the mercy of its Creator, and then 
 lay down. For a while Gray and myself chatted, 
 as men, at least men of any reflection, so situated, 
 are wont to chat. We agreed, as, indeed, we al- 
 ways did on such occasions, to act as executors the 
 one to the other, and having cordially shaken 
 hands, lest an opportunity of so doing should not 
 occur again, we fell fast asleep. 
 
 I had slept perhaps an hour and a half, when I 
 was awoke by the voice of the orderly serjeant, 
 who came to inform us that the movement of the 
 army was countermanded. I will not say whether 
 the intelligence was received as acceptable, or the 
 reverse ; indeed, I question whether we ourselves 
 
118 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 knew, at the moment, whether we were relieved 
 by the reprieve or the contrary. One thing, how- 
 ever, is certain, that I slept not the less soundly 
 from knowing, that at least to-morrow was secu- 
 red to me, to be passed in a state of vigour and vi- 
 tality, though perfectly aware that the peril of a 
 battle must be encountered before long, and hence, 
 that it was really a matter of very little moment, 
 whether it should take place now, or a few days 
 hence. 
 
 On mustering, next morning, upon the parade- 
 ground, we learned that our intended operations 
 were impeded only by the very bad state of the 
 roads. Though the rain had ceased for some days 
 past, such was the quantity which had fallen, that 
 no artillery could, as yet, move in any other direc- 
 tion than along the main road. The continuance 
 of dry weather for eight-and-forty hours longer, 
 would, however, it was calculated, remove this ob- 
 stacle to our advance ; and hence, every man felt 
 that he had but a couple of days to count upon. 
 By good fortune, these days continued clear and 
 serene, and the justice of our calculations was, in 
 due time, evinced. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 119 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The eighth and ninth of November passed over, 
 without any event occurring worthy of recital. On 
 the former of these days, indeed, we had the satis- 
 faction to see a French gun-brig destroyed by one 
 of our light cruizers, a small schooner, off the har- 
 bour of St Jean de Luz. She had lain there, as it 
 appeared, for some time, and apprehensive of fall- 
 ing into our hands, had ventured, on that day, to 
 put to sea. But being observed by a brig, and the 
 schooner above alluded to, she was immediately 
 followed, and, after an engagement of nearly an 
 hour's duration with the latter, she blew up. Whe- 
 ther her crew had abandoned her previous to the 
 explosion, I had no opportunity to discover. 
 
 Among ourselves, in the meanwhile, and through- 
 out the different divisions contiguous to us, a si- 
 lence, like that of a calm before a storm, prevailed. 
 Each man looked as if he knew that an attack was 
 impending, but few conjectures were hazarded 
 touching the precise moment of its occurrence. On 
 the evening of the ninth, however, all doubt was 
 at length removed. We were assembled at parade, 
 
 6 
 
120 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 or ratlier tlie parade was dismissed ; but the band 
 continuing to play, tlie officers were waiting in 
 groups about the tent of the colonel, when an aide- 
 de-camp riding up, informed us that the whole 
 army was to advance upon the morrow. The corps 
 to which I belonged was appointed to carry the vil- 
 lage of Urogne, a place containing perhaps an hun- 
 dred houses and a church, by assault ; for which 
 purpose, Ave were to take post, an hour before day- 
 break, on the high road, and close to the advan- 
 ced sentinels. Of the disposition of other corps we 
 knew nothing, and we were perfectly satisfied with 
 the part allotted to ourselves. 
 
 As soon as the aide-de-camp departed, we be- 
 gan, as people so circumstanced generally begin, 
 to discuss the propriety of our general's arrange- 
 ments. On the present occasion, we were more 
 than usually convinced of the sagacity and pro- 
 found skill of the noble lord. Our corps had been 
 selected, in preference to many others, for a ser- 
 vice, perilous, it is true, but therefore honourable. 
 This showed that he knew at least on whom he 
 could depend, and we, of course, were determined 
 to prove that his confidence had not been mis- 
 placed. Alas, the vanity of men in all callings and 
 professions, when each regards himself as infinite- 
 ly superior to those around him ! 
 
 Having passed an hour or two in this manner, 
 
 7 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 121 
 
 we departed, each to his own tent, in order to 
 make the necessary preparations for tlie morrow. 
 Tliese were speedily completed. Our baggage was 
 packed ; our horses and mules, which, for the sake 
 of shelter, had been kept, during the last ten days, 
 at certain houses in the real", were called in, and 
 provisions enough for one day's consumption, were 
 put up in a haversack. With this and our cloaks 
 we directed a Portuguese lad — a servant of Gray, 
 to follow the battalion, upon a little pony which 
 we kept chiefly for such uses, and finally, having 
 renewed our directions, the one to the other, re- 
 specting the conduct of the survivor in case either 
 of us should fall, we lay down. 
 
 It was quite dark when I arose. Our fires had 
 all burned out, there was no moon in the heavens, 
 and the stars were in a great measure obscured 
 by clouds ; but we took our places instinctively, 
 and in profound silence. On these occasions, I 
 have been always struck with the great coolness 
 of the women. You seldom hear a single expres- 
 sion of alarm escape them ; indeed, they become, 
 probably from habit, and from the example of 
 others, to the full as indifferent to danger as their 
 husbands. I fear, too, that the sort of life which 
 they lead, after they have for any length of time 
 followed an army in the field, sadly un sexes them, 
 (if I may be permitted to coin such a word for 
 
 F 
 
122 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 their benefit,) at least, I recollect but one instance 
 in which any symptoms of real sorrow were shown, 
 even by those Avhom the fate of a battle has ren- 
 dered widows. Sixty women only being permit- 
 ted to accompany a battalion, they are, of course, 
 perfectly secure of obtaining as many husbands as 
 they may choose ; and hence, few widows of sol- 
 diers continue in a state of widowhood for any un- 
 reasonable time ; so far, indeed, they are a highly 
 favoured class of female society. 
 
 The column being formed, and the tents and 
 baggage so disposed, as that, in case of a repulse, 
 they might be carried to the rear without confu- 
 sion or delay, the word was given to march. As 
 our route lay over ground extremely uncA^en, we 
 moved forward for a while slowly, and with cau- 
 tion ; till, having gained the high road, we were 
 enabled to quicken our pace. We proceeded by it, 
 perhaps a mile, till the watch-fire of a German 
 piquet was seen ; when the order to halt being 
 passed quietly from rank to rank, we grounded 
 our arms, and sat down upon the green banks by 
 the road side. Here we were directed to remain, 
 till a gun on our left should sound the signal of 
 attack, and objects should be distinctly visible. 
 
 Men are very differently affected at different 
 times, even though tlie situations in which they 
 may be cast bear a strong affinity to one another. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 123 
 
 On the present occasion, for example, I perfectly 
 recollect, that hardly any feeling of seriousness per- 
 vaded my own' mind, nor, if I might judge from 
 appearances, the minds of those around me. Much 
 conversation, on the contrary, ])assed among us in 
 whispers, but it was all of as light a character, as 
 if the business in which we were about to engage 
 was mere amusement, and not that kind of play in 
 which men stake their lives. Anxiety and rest- 
 lessness, indeed, universally prevailed. We look- 
 ed to the east, and watched the gradual approach 
 of dawn with eager interest ; but it was "^A^th that 
 degree of interest which sportsmen feel on the 
 morning of the twelfth of August, — or rather, per- 
 haps, like that of a child in a box at (3ovent-Gar- 
 den, when it expects every moment to see the 
 stage -curtain lifted. We were exceedingly anxious 
 to begin the fray, but we were quite confident of 
 success. 
 
 In the meanwhile, such dispositions were made 
 as the circumstances of the case appeared to re- 
 quire. Three companies, consisting of about one 
 hundred and fifty men, were detached, under the 
 command of a field-officer, a little to the right and 
 left of the road, for the purpose of surprising, if 
 |K)Ssible, two of the enemy's piquets, which were 
 there posted. The remaining seven, forming again 
 into column, as day broke, extended their front so 
 
124 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 as to cover the whole breadth of the road, and 
 made ready to rush at once, in what is called 
 double quick time, upon the village. That it was 
 strongly barricaded, and filled with French infan- 
 try, we were quite aware ; but, by making our 
 first attack a rapid one, we calculated on reaching 
 the barricade before the enemy should be fully 
 aware of the movement. 
 
 We stood perhaps half an hour, after these dis- 
 positions were effected, before the signal was given, 
 the dawn gradually brightening over the whole of 
 the sky. Now we could observe that we had di- 
 verged in some degree from the main road, and 
 occupied with our little column a lane, hemmed 
 in on both sides by high hedges. Presently we 
 were able to remark that the lane again united it- 
 self with the road about a hundred yards in front 
 of us ; then the church and houses of the village 
 began to show through the darkness, like rocks, 
 or mounds ; by and by the stubble fields immedi- 
 ately around could be distinguished from green 
 meadows ; then the hedge-rows which separated 
 one field from another became visible. And now 
 the signal-gun was fired. It was immediately re- 
 peated by a couple of nine-pounders, which were 
 stationed in a field adjoining to the lane where we 
 stood ; and the battle began. 
 
 The three detached companies did their best to 
 
CHArXER VIII. 125 
 
 surprise tlic Frencli piquets, but without success, 
 the French troops being far too watchful to be 
 easily taken. They drove them in, however, in 
 gallant style, whilst the little column, according to 
 the preconcerted plan, pressed forward. In the 
 meantime, the houses and barricade of Urogne 
 were thronged with defenders, who saluted us as 
 we approached with a sharp discharge of musketry, 
 which, however, was more harmless than might 
 have been expected. A few men and one officer 
 fell, the latter being shot through the heart. He 
 uttered but a single word — the name of his fa- 
 vourite comrade, and expired. On our part, we 
 had no time for firing, but rushed on to the charge ; 
 whilst the nine-pounders, already alluded to, clear- 
 ed the barricade with grape and cannister. In two 
 minutes we had reached its base ; in an instant 
 more we were on the top of it ; when the enemy, 
 panic-struck at the celerity of our movements, 
 abandoned their defences and fled. We followed 
 them through the street of the place, as far as its 
 extremity, but, having been previously command- 
 ed to proceed no farther, we halted here, and they 
 escaped to the high grounds beyond. 
 
 The position now attacked was that famous one 
 in front of St Jean de Luz, than ^\hich, Lord 
 Wellington himself has said that he never beheld 
 any more formidable. It extended for about three 
 
126 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 miles, along the ridge of a rising ground, the 
 ascent of which was, for the most part, covered 
 with thick wood, and intersected by deep ditches. 
 In addition to these natural defences, it was forti- 
 fied with the utmost care, Mareschal Soult having 
 begun to throw up upon it redoubts and breast- 
 works, even before our army had crossed the Bi- 
 dassoa, and having devoted the whole of that month 
 which we had spent above Andaye, in completing 
 his older works and erecting new. Towards our 
 left, indeed, that is, towards the right of the ene- 
 my, and in the direction of the village which we 
 had just carried, these works presented so com- 
 manding an appearance, that our gallant leader 
 deemed it unwise to attempt any serious impres- 
 sion upon them ; and hence, having possessed our- 
 selves of Urogne, we were directed to attempt no- 
 thing farther, but to keep it at all hazards, and to 
 make from time to time a demonstration of advan- 
 cing. This was done, in order to deter Soult from 
 detaching any of his corps to the assistance of his 
 left, which it was the object of Lord Wellington to 
 turn, and which, after twelve hours' severe fight* 
 ing, he succeeding in turning. 
 
 As soon as we had cleared the place of its de- 
 fenders, we set about entrenching ourselves, in 
 case any attempt should be made to retake the vil- 
 lage. For this purpose, we tore up the barricade 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 127 
 
 erected by the French, consisting of casks filled 
 with earth, manure, and rubbish, and rolling them 
 down to the opposite end of the town, we soon 
 threw up a parapet for our own defence. The ene- 
 my, in the meanwhile, began to collect a dense mass 
 of infantry upon the brow of the hill opposite, and, 
 turning a battery of three pieces of cannon upon 
 us, they swept the street with round shot. These, 
 whizzing along, soon caused the walls and roofs of 
 the houses to crumble into ruins ; but neither they, 
 nor the shells which from time to time burst about 
 us, did any considerable execution. By avoiding 
 conspicuous places, indeed, we managed to keep 
 well out of reach ; and hence the chief injury done 
 by the cannonade was that which befell the pro- 
 prietors of houses. 
 
 We found in the village a good store of brown 
 bread, and several casks of brandy. The latter of 
 these were instantly knocked on the head, and the 
 spirits poured out into the str-eet, as the only means 
 of hindering our men from getting drunk, and sa- 
 ving ourselves from a defeat ; but the former was 
 divided amongst them ; and even the black bread, 
 allowed to the French soldiers, was a treat to us, 
 because we had tasted nothing except biscuits, and 
 these none of the most fresh, for the last three 
 months. We were not, however, allowed much 
 time to regale ourselves. 
 
128 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 It was now about eleven o'clock, and the enemy 
 had as yet made no attack upon us. We could 
 perceive, indeed, from the glancing of bayonets 
 through the wood in front, that troops were there 
 mustering ; and as the country was well adapted 
 for skirmishing, being a good deal intersected with 
 ditches, hedges, and hollow ways, it was deemed 
 prudent to send out three or four companies to 
 watch their movements. Among the companies 
 thus sent out was that to which I belonged. We 
 took a direction to the left of the village, and be- 
 ing noticed by the enemy's artillery, were imme- 
 diately saluted with a shower of round shot and 
 shells. Just at this moment a tumbril or ammuni- 
 tion-waggon coming up, a shell from a French 
 mortar fell upon it ; it exploded, and two unfor- 
 tunate artillery-drivers, who chanced to be sitting 
 upon it, were hurled into the air. I looked at them 
 for a moment after they fell. One was quite dead, 
 and dreadfully mangled ; the other was as black 
 as a coal, but he was alive, and groaned heavily. 
 He lifted his head as we passed, and wished us 
 success. What became of him afterwards I know 
 not, but there appeared little chance of his reco- 
 very. 
 
 Having gained a hollow road, somewhat in ad- 
 vance of the village, we found ourselves in con- 
 nexion with a line of skirmishers thrown out by 
 
CHAPTER VI I r. 129 
 
 Colonel Halket from his corps of light Germans, 
 and in some degree sheltered from tlie cannonade. 
 But our repose was not of long continuance. The 
 enemy having collected a large force of tirailleurs, 
 advanced, with loud shouts and every show of de- 
 termination. To remain where we were, was to 
 expose ourselves to the risk of being cut to pieces 
 in a hollow way, the banks of which were higher 
 than our heads, and perfectly perpendicular ; the 
 question therefore was, should we retire or ad- 
 vance ? Of course, the former idea was not enter- 
 tained for a moment. We clambered up the face 
 of the bank with some difficulty ; and, replying to 
 tlie shouts of the French with a similar species of 
 music, we pressed on. 
 
 When I looked to my right and to my left at 
 this moment, I was delighted with the spectacle 
 which that glance presented. For the benefit of 
 my more peaceable readers, I may as well men- 
 tion, that troops sent out to skirmish, advance or 
 retire in files ; each file, or pair of men, keeping 
 about ten yards from the files on both sides of 
 them. On the present occasion, I beheld a line of 
 skirmishers, extending nearly a mile in both direc- 
 tions, all keeping in a sort of irregular order ; and 
 all firing, independently of one another, as the op- 
 portunity of a good aim prompted each of them. 
 On the side of the French, again, all was apparent 
 
 f2 
 
130 THE SUBALTERN, 
 
 confusion ; but the French tirailleurs are by no 
 means in disorder when they appear so. They are 
 admirable skirmishers ; and they gaA^e our people, 
 this day, a good deal of employment, before they 
 again betook themselves to the heights. They did 
 not, however, succeed, as I suspect was their de- 
 sign, in drawing us so far from the village as to 
 expose us to the fire of their masked batteries ; but 
 having followed them across a few fields only, we 
 once more retired to our hollow road. 
 
 It was quite evident, from the numerous solid 
 bodies of troops, which kept their ground along 
 the enemy's line, that the plan of Lord Welling- 
 ton had been perfectly successful ; and that no 
 force had been sent from the right of Soult's army 
 to the assistance of his left. The continual roar 
 of musketry and of cannon, which was kept up in 
 that direction, proved, at the same time, that a 
 more serious struggle was going on there than any 
 to which we were exposed. It was no rapid, but 
 intermitting rattle, like that which we and our op- 
 ponents from time to time produced ; but an un- 
 ceasing volley, as if men Avere able to fire without 
 loading, or took no time to load. At length Soult 
 appeared to have discovered that he had little to 
 dread upon his right. About three o'clock, we 
 could, accordingly, observe a heavy column, of 
 perhaps ten or twelve thousand men, beginning 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 131 
 
 its march to the left ; and at the same instant, as 
 if to cover the movement, the enemy's skirmishers 
 again advanced. Again we met them, as we had 
 done before, and again drove them in ; wlien, in- 
 stead of falling back to the hollow way, we lay 
 down behind a hedge, half-way between the vil- 
 lage and the base of their position. From this they 
 made several attempts to dislodge us, but without 
 effect, and here we remained till the approach of 
 darkness put an end to the battle. 
 
 The sun had set about an hour, when the troops 
 in advance were everywhere recalled ; and I and 
 my companions returned to the village. Upon it 
 we found that the enemy still kept up an occasional 
 fire of cannon ; and hence, that the houses, whicli 
 were extremely thin, furnished no sufficient shel- 
 ter for the troops. It was accordingly determined 
 to canton the corps, for the night, in the chui'cli, 
 the walls of that building being of more solid ma- 
 terials, and proof against the violence of at least 
 field artillery. Thither, therefore, we all repaired, 
 and here I had the satisfaction to find that our 
 Portuguese follower had arrived before us, so that 
 a comfortable meal was prepared. Provisions and 
 grog were likewise issued out to the men, and all 
 was now jollity and mirth. 
 
 The spectacle which the interior of the church 
 of Urogne presented this night, was one which the 
 
132 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 pious founder of the fabric probably never cal- 
 culated upon its presenting. Along the two side 
 aisles, the arms of the battalion were piled, whilst 
 the men themselves occupied the centre aisle. In 
 the pulpit was placed the large drum and other 
 musical instruments, whilst a party of officers took 
 possession of a gallery erected at the lower extre- 
 mity of the buikling. For our own parts. Gray 
 and myself asserted a claim to the space around the 
 altar, which, in an English church, is generally 
 railed in, but which, in foreign churches, is dis- 
 tinguished from the rest of the chancel only by its 
 elevation. Here we spread out our cold salt beef, 
 our brown bread, our cheese, and our grog ; and 
 here we eat and drank, in that state of excited 
 feeling which attends every man who has gone 
 safely through the perils of such a day. 
 
 Nor was the wild nature of the spectacle around 
 us diminished by the gloomy and wavering light, 
 which thirty or forty small rosin tapers cast over 
 it. Of these, two or three stood beside us, upon 
 the altar, whilst the rest were scattered about, by 
 ones and twos, in different places, leaving every 
 interval in a sort of shade, which gave a wider 
 scope to the imagination than to the senses. The 
 buzz of conversation, too, the frequent laugh and 
 joke, and, by and by, the song, as the grog begaa 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 133 
 
 to circulate, all these combined to produce a scene 
 too striking to be soon forgotten. 
 
 As time passed on, all these sounds became gra- 
 dually more and more faint. The soldiers, wearied 
 with their day's work, dropped asleep, one after 
 another, and I, having watched them for a while, 
 stretched out like so many corpses upon the paved 
 floor of the church, wrapped my cloak round me, 
 and prepared to follow their example. I laid my- 
 self at the foot of the altar, and though the marble 
 was not more soft than marble usually is, I slept 
 as soundly upon it as if it had been a bed of dawn. 
 
134 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 We had slept about four or five hours, and the 
 short hours of the morning were beginning to be 
 length enedj when our slumbers were disturbed by 
 the arrival of a messenger from the advanced pi- 
 quets, who came to inform us that the enemy were 
 moving. As we had lain down in our clothes, with 
 all our accoutrements on, we were under arms, 
 and in column, in five seconds. It was not, how- 
 ever, deemed necessary that any advance on our 
 part should be instantly attempted. We remain- 
 ed, on the contrary, quiet in the church ; but stand- 
 ing in our ranks, we were perfectly ready to march 
 to any quarter where the sound of firing might be- 
 speak our presence necessary. 
 
 We had stood thus about half an hour, when a 
 second messenger from the out-posts came in, from 
 whom we learned, that a blue light had been thrown 
 up within the enemy's lines, and that their fires 
 were all freshly trimmed. " Is it so ?" said some 
 of our oldest veterans ; " then there will be no 
 work for us to-day — they are retreating ;" and so 
 sure enough it proved. As soon as dawn began to 
 appear, a patrole was sent forward, which retui'n- 
 
CHAPTER IX. 135 
 
 ed immediately to state, that not a vestige of the 
 French army was to he found. Their outposts and 
 sentries were withdrawn, their haggage was all 
 gone, and the whole of the right wing had disap- 
 peared. 
 
 The fact was, that Lord Wellington's scheme 
 had succeeded according to his expectations. The 
 right of our army, after some very hard fighting, 
 turned the enemy's left ; took possession of most 
 of his redoubts, and got into his rear ; which com- 
 pelled Marshal Soult, sorely against his inclina- 
 tion, to abandon a position more tenable than any 
 which he had yet occupied. Towards his right, 
 indeed, as I have already mentioned, it would have 
 been little short of madness seriously to have at- 
 tacked him ; nor could his left have been broken, 
 but for the skilful manoeuvring on our part, which 
 hindered any reinforcements from being sent to it. 
 This object being obtained, however, to remain, at 
 least with safety, even for a single day longer, on 
 his ground, was impossible, and hence Soult only 
 showed his wisdom and sound judgment by seizing 
 the first favourable opportunity to retire. 
 
 The intelligence of the enemy's retreat was re- 
 ceived, as such intelligence is usually received, 
 with great satisfaction. Not that we felt the small- 
 est disinclination to renew the battle — quite the 
 reverse; but there is something in the idea of pur- 
 
136 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 suing a flying enemy, far more exhilarating than 
 in any other idea to which the human mind gives 
 harbour ; and this we experienced, on the present 
 occasion, to its full extent. We had scarcely learn- 
 ed that the French troops had deserted their works, 
 when an order arrived to advance ; and that we 
 prepared to obey with the most hearty good will. 
 
 Whilst the men were swallowing a hasty meal, 
 preparatory to the commencement of the march, 
 I went, with two or three others, to visit the spot 
 where we had deposited such of our messmates as 
 fell in the battle of yesterday. It is not often that 
 a soldier is so fortunate — if, indeed, the thing be 
 worth esteeming fortunate — as to be laid to his 
 last rest in consecrated ground. Our gallant com- 
 rades enjoyed that privilege on the present occa- 
 sion. The soldiers had collected them from the 
 various spots where they lay, and brought them in, 
 with a sort of pious respect, to the churchyard. 
 Here they dug a grave — one grave, it is true, for 
 more than one body ; but what boots it ? and here 
 they entombed them, carefully tearing up the green 
 sod, and carefully replacing it upon the hillock. 
 For my own part, I had little time to do more than 
 wish rest to their souls ; for the corps was already 
 in motion, and in five minutes we were in the line 
 of march. 
 
 It was as yet quite dark, consequently objects 
 
CHAPTER IX. 137 
 
 could not be cllstinguislied at any considerable dis- 
 tance ; but the farther we proceeded, the more 
 strongly the day dawned upon us. Having clear- 
 ed the village, we came to a bridge tlirown across 
 a little brook, for the possession of which a good 
 deal of fighting had taken pUice towards evening 
 on the day befoi-e. Here we found several French 
 soldiers lying dead, as well as one of our own men, 
 who had ventured too far in pursuit of the enemy. 
 A little way beyond the bridge, again, and to the 
 left of the road, stood a neat chateau of some size. 
 This our advanced party was ordered to search ; 
 and, as I chanced to be in command of the detach- 
 ment, the ollice of conducting the search devolved 
 upon me. 
 
 I found the house furnished after the French 
 fashion, and the furniture in a state of perfect pre- 
 servation ; nor did I permit the slightest injury to 
 be done to it by my men. The only article, in- 
 deed, which I was guilty of plundering, was a 
 Grammar of the Spanish language, thus entitled, 
 " Grammaire et Dictionnaire Francois et Espagnol 
 — Nouvellement Revu, Corrige et Augmente par 
 Monsieur de Maunory : Suivant TUsage de la Cour 
 d'Espagne." Upon one of the boards is written, 
 Appartient a Lassalle Briguetle, Lassallee. The 
 book is still in my possession, and as our countries 
 are now at peace, I take this opportunity of in- 
 
138 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 forming Mr Briguette, that I am quite ready to re- 
 store to him his property, provided he will favour 
 me with his address. 
 
 The room from which I took the volume just 
 alluded to was the lihrary, and by no means badly 
 stored with books. I had not, however, much 
 time to decipher the title-pages, for, independent- 
 ly of the necessity under which I lay of pushing 
 forward as soon as I had ascertained that none of 
 the enemy were secreted here, my attention was 
 attracted by a mass of letters scattered over the 
 floor. The reader may judge of my surprise, when, 
 on lifting one to examine its contents, I found it 
 to be in the hand-writing of my own father, and 
 addressed to myself. It was of a later date, too, 
 than any communication which I had received 
 from home ; and beside it were lying about twen- 
 ty others, directed to different officers in the same 
 division with myself. This let me into a secret. 
 The house in which I now stood had been the of- 
 ficial head-quarters of Marshal Soult. A courier, 
 who was bringing letters from Lord Wellington's 
 head-quarters, had been cut off by a patrole of the 
 enemy's cavalry ; and hence all our epistles, inclu- 
 ding sundry billets-doux from fair maidens at home, 
 had been subjected to the scrutiny of the French 
 marshal and his staff. 
 
CHAPTER JX. 139 
 
 Leaving other letters to their fate, I put my 
 own in my pocket, and, stuffing my volume of 
 plunder into my bosom, pushed on. About a hun- 
 dred yards in the rear of the chateau we arrived 
 at the first line of works, consisting of a battery 
 for two guns, with a deep trench in front of it. It 
 was flanked, both on the right and left, by farm- 
 houses, with a good deal of plantation, and a cou- 
 ple of garden walls, and would have cost our peo- 
 ple no inconsiderable loss had we been fool-hardy 
 enough to attack it. This battery was erected just 
 upon the commencement of the rising ground. On 
 passing it, we found ourselves on the face of a bare 
 hill, about the length, perhaps, of Shooter's Hill, 
 and not dissimilar in general appearance, the sum- 
 mit of which was covered by three redoubts, con- 
 nected the one with the other by two open bat- 
 teries. As we passed these, we could not but re- 
 mark to ourselves, how painful must have been 
 the feelings of the French general, when he found 
 himself compelled to abandon his works, without 
 an opportunity being given of putting their utility 
 to the proof; and we, of course, paid the compli- 
 ments, which were his due, to our own leader, 
 who, by his judicious arrangements, had rendered 
 these works perfectly unprofitable. 
 
 We had just cleared the entrenchments, when 
 a crv arose from the rear, " Make wav for the ca- 
 
140 THE SUBALTERN, 
 
 valry !" Our men accordingly inclined to the right 
 of the road, when the 12tli and 16th light dra- 
 goons rode past at a quick trot, sending out half 
 a troop before them to feel their way. The object 
 of this movement, as we afterwards found, was to 
 hinder, if possible, the destruction of the bridge at 
 St Jean de Luz. But the attempt succeeded only 
 in part, the enemy having already set fire to their 
 train. 
 
 *^' Push on, push on," was now the word. We 
 accordingly quickened our pace, and reached St 
 Jean de Luz about nine o'clock ; but we were too 
 late to secure a passage of the Nivelle, the bridge 
 being completely in ruins. Our cavalry had reach- 
 ed it only in time to see the mine exploded which 
 the French troops had dug in its centre arch ; and 
 hence a halt became absolutely necessary, till the 
 chasm thus created should be filled up. The effect 
 was remarkably striking. The whole of the first 
 and fifth divisions, with the King's German legion, 
 several brigades of Portugnese, and two divisions 
 of Spanish troops, came pouring up, till the south- 
 ern suburb of St Jean de Luz was filled with arm- 
 ed men, to the number of perhaps twenty or thirty 
 thousand. 
 
 It is probably needless for me to say, that we 
 found St Jean de Luz, for the most part, abandon- 
 ed by its inhabitants. A few indeed remained ; 
 
CHAPTER IX. 141 
 
 and these consulting, as under sucli circumstances 
 people are justified in consulting, their own safety- 
 only, welcomed us by waving their handkerchiefs 
 from the windows, and shouting, Vivent les Anglois ! 
 Those who thus met us were, however, of the low- 
 est description, all the gentry and municipality ha- 
 ving fled ; though they, too, returned after a few 
 days, and placed themselves under our protection. 
 They were faithfully guarded against insult ; nor 
 were our soldiers permitted to exact anything from 
 the inhabitants without paying for it whatever was 
 demanded. 
 
 Whilst we were waiting till the bridge should 
 be so far repaired as to permit the infantry to 
 cross, I happened to stray a little from the main 
 street, and beheld, in a lane which ran parallel 
 with the river, a spectacle exceedingly shocking. 
 I saw no fewer than fifty-three donkeys standing 
 with the sinews of the hinder legs cut through. 
 On inquiring from an inhabitant the cause of this, 
 he told me, that these poor brutes, being over- 
 loaded with the baggage of the French army, had 
 knocked up ; when the soldiers, rather than suffer 
 them to fall into our hands in a serviceable condi- 
 tion, hamstrung them all. ^\niy they were not 
 merciful enough to shoot them, I know not ; un- 
 less, indeed, they were apprehensive of causing an 
 alarm among us by the report ; but what their cau- 
 
142 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 tion hindered we performed. The poor creatures 
 were all shot dead ere we advanced. 
 
 The town of St Jean de Luz covers about as 
 much ground, and, I should imagine, contains 
 about as many inhabitants, as Carlisle or Canter- 
 bury. It is divided into two parts by the river Ni- 
 velle, which falls into the sea about a couple or 
 three miles below, at a village, or rather port, call- 
 ed Secoa. Like other French towns of its size, St 
 Jean de Luz is not remarkable for its air of neat- 
 ness ; but there is a good market-place in it, two 
 or three churches, and a theatre. The Nivelle, 
 where it flows through the city, may be about the 
 width of the Eden, or the Isis ; it is rendered pass- 
 able, and the two quarters of the city are connected, 
 by a stone bridge of three arches ; besides which, 
 the stream itself is fordable, both for cavalry and 
 infantry, at low water. When we came in this 
 morning the tide was up, but it had been for some 
 time on the turn ; and hence, in about a couple of 
 hours, we were perfectly independent of the re- 
 pairs. By this time, however, the broken arch had 
 been united by means of planks and beams of 
 wood; but as the junction was none of the most 
 firm, it was deemed prudent to send the troopers 
 through the water, whilst the infantry only should 
 cross by the bridge. Along with the cavalry was 
 sent the artillery also ; and thus, by noon, on the 
 
 9 
 
CHAPTER IX. 1 13 
 
 11th of November, the wliole of the left column 
 had passed the Nivelle. 
 
 We had hardly quitted St Jean de Luz, when 
 the weather, which during the entire morning had 
 looked suspicious, broke ; and a cold heavy rain 
 began to falh This lasted without any intermis- 
 sion till dark ; by which means our march became 
 the reverse of agreeable, and we felt as if we would 
 have given the enemy a safe-conduct as far as Bay- 
 onne, in return for permission to halt, and dry our- 
 selves before a fire. But of halting no hint was 
 di'opped, nor was it till our advanced-guard came 
 up with the rear of the French army, posted in the 
 \'illage of Bedart, and the heights adjoining, that 
 any check was given to our progress. As it was 
 now late, the sun having set, and twilight coming 
 on, it was not judged expedient to dislodge the 
 enemy till morning ; in consequence of which our 
 troops were commanded to halt. There was, how- 
 ever, no cover for them. Only a few cottages stood 
 near the road, and the tents were at least fourteen 
 miles in the rear ; this night was accordingly spent 
 by most of us on the wet ground. 
 
 From the moment that the rain began to fall, 
 we remarked that the Spanish, and in some in- 
 stances the Portuguese troops, setting the com- 
 mands of their officers at defiance, left their ranks, 
 and scattered themselves over the face of the coun- 
 
144 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 try. Whilst this was going on, I haA^e good reason 
 to believe that several horrible crimes were perpe- 
 trated. Of the French peasants, many, trusting 
 to our proclamations, remained quietly in their 
 houses ; these were in too many instances plunder- 
 ed and cruelly treated by the marauders, who were, 
 I suspect, urged on to the commission of numerous 
 atrocities, by a feeling far more powerful than the 
 desire of plunder. Revenge — a strong and over- 
 whelming thirst of vengeance, drew, I am convin- 
 ced, many to the perpetration of the most terrible 
 deeds ; indeed, one case of the kind came under my 
 own immediate notice, which I shall here relate. 
 
 About three o'clock this afternoon, a temporary 
 check took place in the line of march, when the 
 corps to which I belonged was about two miles 
 distant from Bedart. A brigade of cavalry alone 
 was in front of us. A Portuguese brigade, inclu- 
 ding one regiment of ca^adores, was in our rear. 
 Whilst we were standing still in our places, the 
 cagadore regiment, breaking its ranks, rushed in a 
 tumultuous manner towards two or three cottages 
 on the left of the road. The officers with the ut- 
 most difficulty recalled them, but a few individu- 
 als, as the event proved, succeeded in their effort 
 of insubordination. These, however, were not no- 
 ticed at the time, and it was thought that all were 
 
 where they ought to be. 
 
 15 
 
CHAPTER IX. 145 
 
 A little way, perhaps a couple of hundred yards 
 in front, stood another French cottage, surround- 
 ed by a garden, and perfectly detached from all 
 others. In about five minutes after order had been 
 restored, we heard a female shriek come from that 
 cottage. It was followed by the report of a mus- 
 ket, and ere we had time to reach the spot, another 
 shot was fired. We ran up, and found a poor old 
 French peasant lying dead at the bottom of the 
 garden. A bullet had passed through his head, and 
 his thin grey hairs were dyed with his own blood. 
 We hastened towards the house, and just as we 
 neared the door, a ca^adore rushed out, and at- 
 tempted to elude us. But he was hotly pursued 
 and taken. Wheli he was brought back, we enter- 
 ed the cottage, and to our horror, we saw an old 
 woman, in all probability the wife of the aged i>ea- 
 sant, lying dead in the kitchen. 
 
 The desperate Portuguese pretended not to de- 
 ny having perpetrated these murders. He seemed, 
 on the contrary, wound up to a pitch of frenzy. — 
 " They murdered my father, they cut my mother's 
 throat, and they ravished my sister," said he, " and 
 I vowed at the time that I would put to death the 
 first French family that fell into my hands. You 
 may hang me, if you will, but I have kept my oath, 
 and I care not for dying." It is unnecessary to 
 add that the man was hanged ; indeed, no fewer 
 
 G 
 
146 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 than eighteen Spanish and Portuguese soldiers 
 were tucked up, in the course of this and the fol- 
 lowing days, to the branches of trees. But I could 
 not at the time avoid thinking, that if any shadow 
 of excuse for murder can be framed, the unfortu- 
 nate Portuguese who butchered this French family, 
 deserves the benefit of it. 
 
 I have said that the greater part of the left co- 
 lumn spent this night in no very comfortable plight, 
 upon the wet ground. For ourselves, we were mo- 
 ved into what had once been a grass field, just at 
 the base of the hill of Bedart ; but which, with the 
 tread of men's feet and horses' hoofs, was now bat- 
 tered into mud. Here, with the utmost difficulty, 
 we succeeded in lighting fires, round which we 
 crowded as we best might. But the rain still came 
 down in torrents, and though our lad arrived short- 
 ly after with the cloaks, and rations of beef, and 
 biscuit, and rum, were issued out to us, I cannot 
 enumerate this among the nights of pure enjoy- 
 ment, which my life, as a soldier, has frequently 
 brought in my way. 
 
CHAPTER X. 147 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 When I awoke next morning*, I found myself 
 lying in a perfect puddle, beside the decaying em- 
 bers of a fire. The rain had come down so inces- 
 santly, and with such violence during the night, 
 that my cloak, though excellent of its kind, stood 
 not out against it ; and I was now as thoroughly 
 saturated with water as if I had been dragged 
 through the Nivelle. Of course, my sensations 
 were not of a very pleasant nature ; but I consider- 
 ed that I was far from singular in my condition, 
 and, like my comrades, I laughed at an evil for 
 which there was no remedy. 
 
 Having remained under arms till day had fully 
 dawned, we began to make ready for a farther ad- 
 vance. When we lay down on the preceding even- 
 ing, several brigades of French troops were in pos- 
 session of the village of Bedart. These we natu- 
 rally laid our account with attacking ; but on send- 
 ing forward a patrol, it was found that the Anllage 
 had been abandoned, and that Soult had fallen 
 back to his entrenched camp, in front of Bayonne. 
 Our parade was accordingly dismissed, and we re- 
 
148 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 mained in the same situation for about four hours ; 
 when the arrival of the tents and baggage invited 
 us to make ourselves somewhat more comfortable. 
 For this purpose the brigade was moved about a 
 quarter of a mile to the left of the main road ; and 
 there, on a skirt of turf comparatively sound and 
 unbroken, the camp was pitched. 
 
 In the immediate \dcinity of the tents stood a 
 small farm-house, or rather a large cottage, con- 
 taining three rooms and a kitchen. Hither a good 
 many of the officers, and myself among the num- 
 ber, removed their canteens and portmanteaus ; till 
 no fcAver than forty-five individuals, including ser- 
 vants as well as masters, found a temporary shel- 
 ter under its roof. I am sure, after all, that I was 
 not more comfortable here than I should have been 
 in my tent ; but I fancied that to sleep upon a bed 
 once more, even though that bed was a French 
 one, would prove a luxury ; and I made the expe- 
 riment. It is needless to add, that the bed con- 
 tained whole hordes of living occupants besides 
 myself; and that I presumed not again to dispute 
 with them the possession of their ancient domain. 
 
 From the 12th to the 17th November nothing 
 occurred to myself, nor were any movements made 
 by the left of the British army worthy of being re- 
 peated. The rain continued with hardly any in- 
 terruption during the whole of that time, render- 
 
CHAPTER X. ]49 
 
 iiig the cross roads utterly impassable for artillery, 
 and holding out no prospect of fresh battles or 
 fresh adventures. It was, indeed, manifest, that 
 the troops could not be kept much longer in the 
 field, without material injury to their health, which 
 began already to be threatened with dysentery and 
 ague. Nor is it surprising, that the case should 
 be so ; for the tents were not proof against show- 
 ers so heavy and so incessant as those which fell ; 
 and canvass, when once completely soaked, admits 
 water to pass through like a sieve. The conse- 
 quence was, that our men were never dry, and 
 many began to exhibit symptoms of the complaints 
 above alluded to. 
 
 Under these circumstances we received, with 
 sincere rejoicing, an order in the evening of the 
 17th, to strike our tents at dawn next morning, 
 and to march into winter-quarters. The rain de- 
 scended, however, in such torrents, that though a 
 temporary inconvenience promised to lead to per- 
 manent comfort, it was deemed prudent to delay 
 fulfilling that order, for at least some hours. We 
 accordingly remained quiet till about one o'clock 
 in the afternoon of the 18th, when the weather 
 breaking up, and the sun shining out, our camp 
 was struck, and we turned our faces towards the 
 cantonments which had been allotted to us. 
 
 Having cleared the few fields which intervened 
 
150 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 between the situation of the camp and the high 
 road, we left Bedart behind, and took a retrograde 
 direction towards St Jean de Luz. We had not, 
 however, proceeded above five or six miles, and 
 were still a full league distant from the town, when, 
 on reaching a cross road, which run in a direc- 
 tion to the left, we filed off by it, and made for a 
 piece of elevated country, over which about half a 
 dozen farm-houses were scattered. These were as- 
 signed to the corps to which I belonged. We ac- 
 cordingly halted on a sort of common, near the 
 centre of them, and having cast lots as to which 
 house should fall to the share of the different com- 
 panies. Gray, myself, and two others, with about 
 one hundred men, took possession of one, with 
 which we were perfectly satisfied. 
 
 It would be difficult for an ordinary reader to 
 form any adequate notion of the extreme satisfac- 
 tion which soldiers experience, when first they es- 
 tablish themselves in winter-quarters. As long as 
 the weather continues fine, and summer suns shed 
 their influence over it, there are, indeed, few places 
 more agreeable than a camp. But it is not so af- 
 ter the summer has departed. I have already hint- 
 ed, that against heavy and continued rains, a tent 
 supplies but a very inadequate shelter. A tent is, 
 moreover, but a narrow chamber, in which it is 
 not easy so much as to stand upright, excepting 
 
CHAPTER X. 151 
 
 in one spot ; and where all opportunity of locomo- 
 tion is denied. It furnishes, moreover, little pro- 
 tection against cold, to light a fire within being 
 impossible, on account of the smoke ; and hence 
 the only means of keeping yourself warm is, to 
 wrap your cloak or a blanket about you, and to lie 
 down. Occasionally, indeed, I have seen red-hot 
 shot employed as heaters ; but the kind of warmth 
 which arises from heated iron is, at least to me, 
 hardly more agreeable than that which is produced 
 by charcoal. In a word, howcA^er enthusiastic a 
 man may be in his profession, he begins, about the 
 end of October or the beginning of November, to 
 grow heartily tired of campaigning ; and looks for- 
 ward to a few weeks* rest, and a substantial pro- 
 tection against cold and damps, with almost as 
 much pleasure as he experiences when the return 
 of spring calls him once more into the field. 
 
 The farm-houses in the south of France, like 
 those in the neighbouring country of Spain, are 
 rarely provided with fire-places in any other apart- 
 ment besides the kitchen. It is, indeed, customary 
 for families to live, during the winter months, entire- 
 ly with their servants ; and hence the want of a 
 fire-place in the parlour is not felt any more than in 
 the bed-rooms. I observed, likewise, that hai'dly 
 any maison of the kind was furnished with glazed 
 windows ; wooden lattices being almost universal- 
 
152 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 ly substituted. These, during the summer months, 
 are kept open all day, and closed only at night ; and 
 I believe that the extreme mildness of the climate 
 renders an open window, at such seasons, very 
 agreeable. On the present occasion, however, we 
 anticipated no slight annoyance from the absence 
 of these two essential matters, a chimney and a 
 window in our room ; and we immediately set our 
 wits to work for the removal of both causes of 
 complaint. 
 
 Both Gray's servant and my own chanced to be 
 exceedingly ingenious fellows ; the former, in par- 
 ticular, could, to use a vulgar phrase, turn his 
 hand to anything. Under his directions we set a 
 party of men to work, and knocking a hole through 
 one corner of our room, we speedily converted it 
 into a fire-place. To give vent to the smoke, we 
 took the trouble to build an external chimney, car- 
 rying it up as high as the roof of the house ; and 
 our pride and satisfaction were neither of them 
 trifling, when we found that it drew to admiration. 
 I mean not to commend the masonry for its ele- 
 gance, nor to assert that the sort of buttress now 
 produced added in any degree to the general ap- 
 pearance of the house ; but it had the effect of 
 rendering our apartment exceedingly comfortable, 
 and that was the sole object which we had in 
 view. 
 
CHAPTER X. loo 
 
 Having thus provided for our warmth, the next 
 tiling to be done was to manufacture sucli a win- 
 dow as might supply us with light, and at the 
 same time resist the weather. For this purpose 
 we lifted a couple of lattices from their hinges ; 
 and having cut out four pannels in each, we co- 
 vered the spaces with white paper soaked in oil. 
 The light thus admitted was not, indeed, very 
 brilliant, but it was sufficient for all our purposes ; 
 and we found, when the storm again returned, 
 that our oil-paper stood out against it stoutly. 
 Then, liaA'ing swept our floor, um packed and ar- 
 ranged the contents of our canteen, and provided 
 good dry hay-sacks for our couches, we felt as if 
 the whole world could have supplied no better or 
 more desirable habitation. 
 
 To build the chimney, and construct the win- 
 dow, furnished occupation enough for one day ; 
 tlie next was spent in cutting wood, and laying in 
 a store of fuel against the winter. In eifecting this, 
 it must be confessed, that we were not over fasti- 
 dious as to the source from which it was derived : 
 and hence a greater number of fruit trees were 
 felled and cut to pieces, than, perhaps, there was 
 any positive necessity to destroy. But it is impos- 
 sible to guard against every little excess, when 
 troops have established themselves in an enemy's 
 country; and the French have just cause of thank- 
 
 G 2 
 
154 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 fulness, tliat so little comparative devastation mark- 
 ed the progress of our armies. Their own, it is 
 well known, were not remarkable for their order- 
 ly conduct in such countries as they overran. 
 
 I have dwelt upon these little circumstances 
 longer, perhaps, than their insignificance in the 
 eyes of my reader may warrant ; but I could not 
 help it. There is no period of my life on which I 
 look back with more unmixed pleasure, than that 
 which saw me, for the first time, set down in win- 
 ter-quarters. And hence every trifling event con- 
 nected with it, however unimportant to others, 
 appears the reverse of unimportant to me. And 
 such, I believe, is universally the case, when a 
 man undertakes to be his own biographer. Things 
 and occurrences which, to the world at large, seem 
 wholly undeserving of record, his own feelings 
 prompt him to detail with unusual minuteness, 
 even though he may be conscious all the while that 
 he is entering 'upon details which his readers will 
 scarcely take the trouble to follow. 
 
 Having thus rendered our quarters as snug as 
 they were capable of being made, my friend and 
 myself proceeded daily into the adjoining woods in 
 search of game ; and as the frost set in, we found 
 them amply stored, not only with hares and rab- 
 bits, but with cocks, snipes, and other birds of 
 passage. We were not, however, so fortunate as 
 
CHAPTER X. 155 
 
 to fall in with any of the wild boars which are 
 said to frequent these thickets, though we devoted 
 more than one morning to the search ; but we ma- 
 naged to supply our own table, and the table of 
 several of our comrades, with a very agi'eeable ad- 
 dition to the lean beef which was issued out to us. 
 Nor were other luxuries wanting. The peasantry, 
 having recovered their confidence, returned in 
 great numbers to their homes, and seldom failed 
 to call at our mansion once or twice a-wcek, with 
 wine, fresh bread, cyder, and bottled beer ; by the 
 help of which we continued to fare well as long 
 as our fast-diminishing stock of money lasted. I 
 say fast-diminishing stock of money, for as yet no 
 addition had been made to that which each of us 
 brought with him from England ; and though the 
 pay of the army was now six months in arrear, but 
 faint hopes were entertained of any immediate do- 
 iiative. 
 
 It was not, however, among regimental and 
 other inferior officers alone, that this period of mi- 
 litary inaction was esteemed and acted upon as one 
 of enjoyment. Lord Wellington's fox-hounds were 
 unkennelled ; and he himself took the field regu- 
 larly twice a-week, as if he had been a denizen of 
 Leicestershire, or any other sporting county in 
 England. I need not add, that few packs, in any 
 county, could be better attended. Not that the 
 
156 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 horses of all the huntsmen were of the best breed, 
 or of the gayest appearance ; but what was want- 
 ing in individual splendour, was made up by the 
 number of Nimrods ; nor would it be easy to dis- 
 cover a field more fruitful in laughable occurrences, 
 which no man more heartily enjoyed than the gal- 
 lant Marquis himself. When the hounds were out, 
 he was no longer the commander of the forces, 
 the General-in-Chief of three nations, and the re- 
 presentative of three sovereigns ; but the gay, mer- 
 ry, country gentleman, who rode at everything, 
 and laughed as loud when he fell himself, as when 
 he witnessed the fall of a brother-sportsman. 
 
 Thus passed about twenty days, during the 
 greater number of which the sky was clear, and 
 the air cold and bracing. Occasionally, indeed, 
 we varied our sporting life by visits to St Jean de 
 Luz, and other towns in the rear; and by seeking 
 out old friends in other divisions of the army. Nor 
 were we altogether without military occupation. 
 Here and there a redoubt was thrown up, for the 
 purpose of rendering our position doubly secure ; 
 whilst the various brigades of each division re- 
 lieved one another in taking the outpost duty. A 
 trifling skirmish or two tended likewise to keep 
 us alive ; but these were followed by no move- 
 ment of importance, nor were they very fatal either 
 to the enemy or ourselves. 
 
CHAPTER X. 157 
 
 The position wliich Lord Wellington had taken 
 up, extended from the village of Bedart on the 
 left to a place called Garret's House on the right. 
 It embraced various other villages, such as that 
 of Arcanques, Gauthong, &c. &c., between these 
 points, and kept the extremities of the line at a 
 distance of perhaps six or seven miles from each 
 other. To a common observer it certainly had in 
 it nothing imposing, or calculated to give the idea 
 of great natural strength. On the left, in particu- 
 lar, our troops, when called into the field, occu- 
 pied a level plain ; wooded indeed, but very little 
 broken ; whilst at different points in the centre 
 there were passes, easy of approach, nor defensi- 
 ble in any extraordinary degree. But its strength 
 was well tried, as I shall take occasion shortly to 
 relate, and the issue of the trial proved that no 
 error had been committed in its selection. 
 
 Of the manner in wliich the right and centre 
 columns were disposed, I knew but little. The 
 left column consisting of the first and fifth divi- 
 sions ; of two or three brigades of Portuguese in- 
 fantry, one brigade of light and one of heavy ca- 
 valry, was thus posted : The town of St Jean de 
 Luz, in which Lord Wellington had fixed his quar- 
 ters, was occupied by three or four battalions of 
 guards ; its suburbs were given up to such corps 
 of the German lesfion as were attached to the first 
 
158 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 division. In and about the town, the light cavalry 
 was likewise quartered ; whilst the heavy was sent 
 back to An day e and the villages near it, on ac- 
 count of the facility of procuring forage, which 
 there existed. The Spaniards again had fallen 
 back as far as Irun, and were not brought up du- 
 ring the remainder of the winter ; but the Portu- 
 guese regiments were scattered, as we were scat- 
 tered, among a number of detached cottages near 
 the road. In the ^dllage of Bedart was posted the 
 fifth division, with three or four pieces of field ar- 
 tillery, and the men and horses attached to them ; 
 and to it, the duty of watching the enemy, and 
 keeping possession of the ground on which the pi- 
 quets stood, was committed. Thus along the line 
 of the high-road was housed a corps of about fif- 
 teen thousand infantry, twelve hundred cavalry, 
 and a due proportion of artillery ; all under the 
 immediate command of Sir John Hope. 
 
 In direct communication with the head of this 
 column, was the light division, under the com- 
 mand of Major-General Baron Alton. It consist- 
 ed of the 52d, 43d, and 95th regiments, of a bri- 
 gade or two of ca9adores, and mustered in all 
 about four or five thousand bayonets. These oc- 
 cupied the church and village of Arcanques, situa- 
 ted upon a rising ground, and of considerable na- 
 tural strength. Beyond this division again lay the 
 
CHAPTER X. 159 
 
 4th ; in connexion with which were tlie 3d, the 
 7th, and the 2d divisions, whilst the 6th took post 
 a little in the rear, and acted as a reserve, in case 
 a reserve should be wanting. 
 
 I have said that Lord Wellington's head-quar- 
 ters were in the town of St Jean de Luz. Here 
 also Sir John Hope, and several generals of divi- 
 sion and of brigade, established themselves ; and 
 here all the general staff of the army was poste<l. 
 Of course the place was kept in a state of warlike 
 gaiety, such as it had not probably witnessed be- 
 fore, at least in modern times ; but everything was 
 done which could be done to conciliate the affec- 
 tions of the inhabitants ; nor was the slightest out- 
 rage or riot permitted. Such is the manner in 
 which the British army was disposed of, from the 
 18th of November, when it first went into can- 
 tonments, till the 9th of December, when it was 
 found necessary once more to take the field. 
 
160 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 I HAD been out with my gun during the whole 
 of tlie 8th of December, and returned at a late 
 hour in the evening, not a little weary with wan- 
 dering, when the first intelligence communicated 
 to me was, that the corps had receiv^ed orders to 
 be under arms at an early hour next morning, 
 when the whole of the army should advance. In a 
 former chapter, I have hinted, that a continued 
 tract of rainy weather drove Lord Wellington ear- 
 lier than he had designed, and against his inclina- 
 tion, into winter-quarters. The consequence was, 
 that the position of the army was not in every re- 
 spect to his mind. The right, in particular, was 
 too far thrown back ; and the course of the Nivelle 
 interfered in a very inconvenient degree with the 
 communication between it and the left. We were 
 accordingly given to understand, that the object 
 of our present movement was merely to facilitate 
 the crossing of that river by Sir Rowland HilPs 
 corps, and that as soon as this object was attain- 
 ed, we should be permitted to return in peace to 
 our comfortable quarters. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 161 
 
 In consequence of this information. Gray and 
 myself made fewer preparations tlian we had been 
 in the habit of making on other and similar occa- 
 sions. Instead of packing up our baggage, and or- 
 dering out our sumpter-pony and faithful Portu- 
 guese, as we had hitherto done, we left everything 
 in our apartment in its ordinary condition. Strict 
 charges were indeed given to the servants, that a 
 cheerful fire and a substantial meal should be pre- 
 pared against our return in the evening ; but we 
 put up neither food nor clothes for immediate use, 
 in full expectation that such things would not be 
 required. 
 
 The night of the 8tli passed quietly over, and I 
 arose about two hours before dawn on the 9th, 
 perfectly fresh, and, like those around me, in high 
 spirits. We had been so long idle, that the near 
 prospect of a little fighting, instead of creating 
 gloomy sensations, was viewed with sincere de- 
 light ; and we took our places, and began our 
 march towards the high-road, in silence, it is true, 
 but with extreme good will. There we remained 
 stationary till the day broke ; when the word be- 
 ing given to advance, we rushed forward in the 
 direction of Bayonue. 
 
 The brigade to which I belonged took post at 
 the head of the 1st division, and immediately in 
 the rear of the 5th. This situation afforded to me. 
 
162 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 on several occasions, as the inequalities of the road 
 placed me, from time to time, on the summit of 
 an eminence, very favourable opportunities of be- 
 holding the whole of the warlike mass which was 
 moving ; nor is it easy to imagine a more impo- 
 sing or more elevating spectacle. The entire left 
 wing of the army advanced, in a single continuous 
 column, by the main road, and covered, at the 
 most moderate computation, a space of four miles. 
 As far, indeed, as the eye could reach, nothing 
 was to be seen except swarms of infantry, clothed 
 not only in scarlet, but in green, blue, and brown 
 uniforms ; whilst here and there a brigade of four 
 or six guns occupied a vacant space between the 
 last files of one division and the first of another. 
 In rear of all came the cavalry ; but of their ap- 
 pearance I was unable accurately to judge, they 
 were so distant. 
 
 We had proceeded about five miles, and it was 
 now seven o'clock, when, our advanced guard fall- 
 ing in with the French piquets, a smart skirmish 
 began. It was really a beautiful sight. The ene- 
 my made, it is true, no very determined stand, but 
 they gave not up a rood of ground, without ex- 
 changing a few shots with their assailants ; who 
 pressed forward, vigorously indeed, but with all 
 the caution and circumspection which mark the 
 advance of a skilful skirmisher. The column, in 
 
CHAPTER XI. 163 
 
 the meanwhile, moved slowly but steadily on ; nor 
 was it once called upon, during the whole of the 
 day, to deploy into line. 
 
 When the light troops of an army are engaged, 
 as ours were this morning, the heavy infantry is 
 necessitated to march at a slow rate ; whilst, ever 
 and anon, a short halt or check takes place. These 
 halts occurred to-day with unusual frequency. The 
 fact, I believe, was, that Lord Wellington had no 
 desire to bring his left into determined action at 
 all. His object was fully attained as long as he 
 kept the right of the enemy in a state of anxiety 
 and irresolution, but the ground which we gained 
 was in no degree important to the furtherance of 
 the sole design which he had in view. Of course, 
 the tardiness of our motions gave a better oppor- 
 tunity of watching the progress of those connect- 
 ed with us ; nor have I ever beheld a field-day at 
 home more regularly and more elegantly gone 
 through, than this trifling affair of the 9th of De- 
 cember. 
 
 It was getting somewhat late, perhaps it might 
 be three or four o'clock in the afternoon, when our 
 column, having overcome all opposition, halted on 
 some rising ground, about three miles from the 
 walls of Bayonne. From this point we obtained a 
 perfect view of the out- works of that town, as well 
 as of the formidable line of fortifications which 
 
164 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 Soult had thrown up, along the course of the 
 Adour ; but of the city itself we saw but little, 
 on account of several groves of lofty elm and 
 other trees which intervened. It will readily be 
 imagined that we turned our glasses towards the 
 entrenched camp with feelings very different from 
 those which actuate an ordinary observer of the 
 face of a strange country. That the French mar- 
 shal had been at work upon these lines, not only 
 from the moment of his last defeat, but from the 
 very first day of his assuming the command of the 
 army of Spain, we were quite aware ; and hence 
 we were by no means surprised at beholding such 
 an obstacle presented to our farther progress in 
 France. But I cannot say that the sight cast even 
 a damp upon our usual confidence. We knew that 
 whatever could be done to render these mighty 
 preparations useless, our gallant general would ef- 
 fect ; and perhaps we were each of us vain enough 
 to believe, that nothing could resist our own indi- 
 vidual valour. Be that as it may, though we free- 
 ly acknowledged that many a brave fellow must 
 find a grave ere these works could come into our 
 possession, we would have advanced to the attack 
 at the instant, not only without reluctance, but 
 with the most perfect assurance of success. 
 
 The sound of firing had now gradually subsided ; 
 the enemy having withdrawn within their entrench- 
 
CHAPTER XI. 165 
 
 meuts, and our skirmishers being called in to join 
 their respective corps. The left column, dividing 
 itself according to its brigades, had taken post 
 along a ridge of high ground ; and our men, piling 
 their arms, set about lighting fires in all direc- 
 tions ; when I wandered from the corps, as my in- 
 variable custom was, in search of adventures. I 
 had strolled forward for the purpose of obtaining, 
 if possible, a more perfect view of the enemy's 
 lines ; and was stepping across a ditch on my re- 
 turn, when a low groan, as if from some person in 
 acute pain, attracted my notice. I looked down 
 into the ditch, which was, perhaps, four feet deep, 
 and beheld three human beings lying at the bot- 
 tom of it. They were all perfectly naked, and two 
 of them were motionless. On farther examination, 
 I found that they were three French soldiers, of 
 whom one only was alive ; and he lay bleeding 
 from a severe wound in the face, a musket-ball 
 having broken both cheek-bones. He was, how- 
 ever, sensible; so I ran for help, and he was car- 
 ried by some of our people to a neighbouring 
 house. Here the poor fellow, whom his own coun- 
 trymen had stripped and deserted, was well taken 
 care of by his enemies ; but he had suffered so 
 much from exposure to cold, that all attempts to 
 preserve his life were vain, and he died in about 
 a quarter of an honr after his wound was dressed. 
 
166 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 In the meanwhile. Lord Wellington putting 
 himself at the head of a small corps of cavalry, 
 and attended by a few companies of light infan- 
 try, proceeded to the front, in order to reconnoitre 
 the enemy's works. This he was permitted to do 
 without any farther molestation than arose from 
 the occasional discharge of a field-gun, as he and 
 his party presented a favourable mark to the gun- 
 ners. But neither he nor his followers received 
 the slightest injuries from these discharges, and 
 by six in the evening he had effected every object 
 which he desired to effect. Orders were accord- 
 ingly issued for the troops to fall back to their for- 
 mer quarters, and the main road was again crowd- 
 ed with armed men marching to the rear, in a 
 fashion not perhaps quite so orderly as that which 
 distinguished their advance. 
 
 A heavy rain had begun about an hour previous 
 to this movement, accompanied by a cold wind, 
 which blew directly in our faces. Darkness, too, 
 set rapidly in ; the road soon became deep and 
 muddy from the trampling of the multitude of 
 men and horses which covered it ; and something 
 like an inclination to grumble began to arise in 
 our bosoms. Perhaps I need not tell the reader, 
 that between the infantry and cavalry in the Bri- 
 tish army, a considerable degree of jealousy ex- 
 ists ; the former description of force regarding the 
 
CHAPTER XI. 167 
 
 latter as little better than useless, the latter re- 
 garding the former as extremely vulgar and un- 
 genteel. I was myself an officer of infantry ; and 
 I perfectly recollect the angry feelings which were 
 excited at a particular period of the march, when 
 the corps, weary, wet, and hungry, was rudely or- 
 dered by a squadron or two of light troopers, to 
 " get out of the way, and allow them to pass." 
 Recollect, good reader, that the rain was falling as 
 if it had come from buckets ; that each infantry 
 soldier carries a load of perhaps fifty pounds weight 
 about his person ; that our brave fellows had walk- 
 ed under this load upwards of fourteen miles, and 
 were still six long miles from a place of rest ; and 
 you will not wonder that these troopers were sa- 
 luted with " curses not loud but deep," as they 
 somewhat wantonly jostled their less fortunate 
 comrades into the deepest and dirtiest sides of the 
 way. I must confess that I shared in the indigna- 
 tion of my men ; though, of course, I exerted my- 
 self as much as possible to prevent its being more 
 openly displayed. 
 
 Never has any saloon, when brilliantly lighted 
 up, and filled with all the splendour and elegance 
 of a fashionable assembly, appeared half so attrac- 
 tive to my eyes, as did our own humble apartment 
 this evening, with its carpetless floor, its logs of 
 wood arranged instead of chairs, and a few deals, 
 
168 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 or ratlier a piece of scaffolding, placed in the cen- 
 tre as a substitute for a table. A large fire was 
 blazing on the rudely-constructed hearth, which 
 shed a bright glare over the white walls ; and our 
 unpolished table being covered with a clean cloth, 
 over which were arranged plates, knives, forks, 
 and drinking-cups, gave promise of a substantial 
 meal, and of an evening of real enjoyment. Nor 
 were our hopes blighted. We had just time to 
 strip off our wet and muddy garments, and to sub- 
 stitute others in their room, when a huge piece of 
 roast-beef smoked upon the board, and summoned 
 us to an occupation more agreeable than any which 
 could have been at that moment proposed to us. 
 Then our faithful valets had taken care to provide 
 an ample supply of wine ; a bottle or two of cham- 
 paigne, with claret of no mean quality, which, with 
 a little French beer, brisk, and weak, and well 
 flavoured, served exceedingly well to wash down 
 the more solid portions of our repast. To complete 
 the thing, a few of our most intimate companions 
 dropping in, soon after the fragments had been 
 cleared away, our cigars were lighted, and the at- 
 mosphere of the apartment became speedily im- 
 pregnated with the delicious fumes of tobacco ; in 
 sending forth the clouds of which, no other inter- 
 ruption took place than was produced by an occa- 
 sional uplifting of the wine-cup to the lips, tmd an 
 
CHAPTER XI. 169 
 
 expression or sliort ejaculation, indicative of the 
 perfect satisfaction of him wlio uttered it. I have 
 seen many merry and many happy days and niglits 
 both before and since, but an evening of more quiet 
 luxury than this, I certainly do not recollect at 
 any period to have spent. 
 
 At length the fatigues of the day began to tell 
 upon us in a degree somewhat too powerful for 
 enjoyment. We had been under arms from four 
 in the morning till nine at night, during the Avhole 
 of which time, no opportunity of eating had been 
 supplied to us ; nor had we been permitted to un- 
 bend either our minds or bodies, in any effectual 
 degree. Like other animals who have fasted long, 
 we had all gorged ourselves as soon as the means 
 of so doing were furnished ; and hence, the sensa- 
 tion of absolute rest degenerated gradually into 
 languor, and sleep laid his leaden fingers on our 
 eyelids. I do not believe that half-a-dozen sen- 
 tences of ordinary length had been uttered amongst 
 us, when, about eleven o'clock, our last cup of wine 
 was drained off ; and our guests departing each to 
 his own billet, we betook ourselves to our pallets. 
 I need not add that our slumber was thoroughly 
 unbroken. 
 
 H 
 
170 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 I AROSE next morning refreshed and vigorous, 
 and prepared to follow my ordinary occupation of 
 shooting. It was a clear frosty day, the sun was 
 shining brightly over-head, and a thousand little 
 birds were rejoicing in the warmth of his beams ; 
 my dogs were in high condition ; my gun was clean 
 and in good order ; and myself big with determi- 
 nation, not to fire in too great a hurry, but to be 
 sure of my aim before I pulled the trigger. Thus 
 attended, and thus animated, I set forth after break- 
 fast ; and having previously ascertained the fa- 
 vourite haunt of a hare which had more than once 
 escaped me, I turned my steps towards it. My 
 faithful spaniel had just begun to give tongue, and 
 my fowling-piece was already in a position to be 
 lifted at once to my shoulder, when the report of 
 a single cannon, coming from the front, attracted 
 my attention. I stopped short, but had not time 
 to call in my dog, when another and another dis- 
 charge took place, mixed with an occasional rattle 
 of musketry. This was warning enough. Though 
 
 the hare started from her seat, I permitted her to 
 
 3 
 
CHAPTER XII. 171 
 
 depart in peace, and whistling loudly for my four- 
 footed companions to follow, I ran back towards 
 my quarters. As I proceeded, the firing became 
 every moment more and more heavy, till at length 
 it had increased into an uninterrupted roar. 
 
 On reaching the houses I found that the alarm 
 was already given. The bugles Avere sounding to 
 recall such as might be abroad, and the men were 
 accoutring with all haste. For ourselves, Gray and 
 I took care on the present occasion to make bet- 
 ter pro^asion against detention, than we had done 
 the day before ; but our baggage we were obliged 
 to leave, to be packed and made ready for moving 
 by our bat-men. Aide-de-camp after aide-de-camp 
 passed in the meanwhile to and fro, one galloping 
 from the front to urge an immediate advance, ano- 
 ther galloping from the rear to ascertain how mat- 
 ters were going ; whilst the various battalions, as 
 each was equipped and ready, hurried down to the 
 main road, to join its particular brigade. 
 
 A quarter of an hour had scarcely elapsed from 
 the moment that the alarm was first given, when 
 we found ourselves marching once more in the 
 same direction, and nearly in the same order, in 
 which we had marched yesterday. Our march had 
 in it, however, even more of deep excitement, than 
 that of the preceding day. We had not proceeded 
 above a mile, when indications of what was going 
 
172 THE SUBALTERN, 
 
 on in front began to present tlieinselves, in the 
 form of baggage, mules, and horses, pouring in all 
 haste and confusion to the rear; whilst a wound- 
 ed man or two, ever and anon, dragged himself 
 wdth difficulty in the same direction, and gave, as 
 the wounded invariably give, the most alarming 
 account of the state of affairs. " Push on, push 
 on, for God's sake," said one poor fellow who had 
 been shot in the head, and was lying, rather than 
 sitting, across a horse, " push on, or it will be all 
 over. Forty thousand of the enemy are coming on. 
 and there are not two thousand men up to oppose 
 them." Of course, we quickened our pace with 
 infinite good will. 
 
 A group of perhaps twenty wounded privates 
 and officers had passed, when the next body which 
 met us was a detachment of ten sound men and a 
 Serjeant, who were conducting to the rear about 
 an hundred French prisoners. These were salu- 
 ted with a cheer, but even these urged us forward, 
 with the intelligence that the 5th division must 
 soon be overpowered. And now the scene of ac- 
 tion began to open upon us. We had passed through 
 Be dart, and were descending the little eminence 
 on which it is built, when the combatants became 
 distinguishable ; and a very magnificent, as well 
 as gratifying, spectacle they presented. The merest 
 handful of British troops were opposing them- 
 
CHAPTER XII. 173 
 
 selves, in the most determined manner, to a mass 
 of men, so dense, and so extended, as to cover the 
 whole of the main road, as far as the eye could 
 reach. Our people were, it is true, giving way. 
 They had already maintained a most unequal con- 
 test for upwards of two hours, and their numbers, 
 originally small, were fast diminishing. But no 
 sooner had the head of our column shown itself, 
 than their confidence completely returned, and they 
 renewed the struggle with increased alacrity. 
 
 The same circumstance which gave fresh cou- 
 rage to our comrades, acted, as may well be sup- 
 posed, in a directly contrary manner upon the ene- 
 my. Not that they fell into confusion, or exhibit- 
 ed any symptoms of dismay ; but it was evident, 
 from their mode of proceeding, that their general 
 had lost his confidence of immediate success, and 
 that he deemed it necessary to trust less to the 
 weight of his single column, and to add manoeu- 
 vring and skill to brute violence. His attack was 
 accordingly suspended, whilst a battery of ten or 
 twelve guns being hastily brought to the front, 
 opened, not upon the division mth which he had 
 been hitherto engaged, but upon us. And I must 
 confess that the guns were well served. The gun- 
 ners laying them for a particular turning in the 
 road, mowed down some two or three out of each 
 company as it came up, and caused us to suffer no 
 
174 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 inconsiderable loss long before we arrived within 
 range of musketry. 
 
 As soon as we had passed this perilous spot, we 
 abandoned the main road, and turning into an 
 open green field on the right, we wheeled into line. 
 In front of us was a thick wood, for the possession 
 of which our people and the French were warmly 
 struggling. On our side, it was garrisoned by a 
 battalion of Portuguese, and a couple of British 
 regiments, and it was assaulted by a perfect swarm 
 of French tirailleurs ; but neither did the latter 
 succeed in driving their opponents through it, nor 
 could the former deliver themselves from the an- 
 noyance of continual assaults. It was peculiarly 
 the business of the corps to which I belonged, to 
 give support to the defenders of that wood; for 
 which purpose, company after company was sent 
 forward, as a fresh supply of men became from 
 time to time necessary ; whilst two other corps, 
 continuing steadily in line, prepared to use the 
 bayonet with effect, in case our efforts to maintain 
 our ground should prove unavailing. 
 
 Even the un warlike reader will probably under- 
 stand me, when I say, that the feelings of a man 
 hurried into battle, as we were to-day, are totally 
 different from those of the same man who goes 
 gradually, and as it were preparedly into danger. 
 We had dreamed of nothing less than a general 
 
CHAPTER XII. 175 
 
 action this morning ; and we found ourselves bear- 
 ing the brunt of it, before we could very well 
 make up our minds as to the proximity of an ene- 
 my. Everything was accordingly done, every word 
 spoken, and every movement made, under the in- 
 fluence of that species of excitement, which ab- 
 solutely shuts out all ideas, except those whicli 
 spring from the circumstances immediately about 
 you ; I mean an apprehension lest your own men 
 shall give way, and an inexpressible eagerness to 
 close with your adversary. Nor were sundry op- 
 portunities wanting, of gratifying the last of these 
 desires. We fought, at least where I was station- 
 ed, in a thick wood ; and more than once it oc- 
 curred, that we fought hand to hand. 
 
 Affairs had continued in this state till about three 
 in the afternoon ; when the enemy, as if weary 
 with their fruitless efforts, began to slacken in 
 their exertions, and gradually to fall back. Not 
 very far from the spot where I was posted, stood 
 a chateau, the property of the Mayor of Bearitz ; 
 for the occupation of whicli the French had made, 
 during the morning, several desperate, but una- 
 vailing efforts. Towards it, as soon as the firing 
 began to wax faint. Sir John Hope, attended by 
 three or four aides-de-camp and a few orderly 
 dragoons, made his way. He had already mount- 
 ed to an upper room, for the purpose of observing 
 
1T6 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 from thence the enemy's proceedings ; his staff and 
 orderlies were lounging about the court-yard, and 
 the few skirmishers which lined the hedge in front 
 were lying down to rest, when a mass of French 
 infantry, which had formed in a hollow road a lit- 
 tle to the left, dashed forward. The movement 
 was so rapid, and the force employed so great, that 
 all opposition on the part of the few British troops 
 then up, was overcome ; the house was surrounded. 
 Instantly a cry was raised, " Save the general. Save 
 the general," and a rush was made from all quar- 
 ters towards the chateau ; but our assistance was 
 unnecessary. Sir John, seeing what had happened, 
 threw himself upon his horse, and at the head of 
 his mounted attendants charged from the door- 
 way of the court-yard. He received, indeed, no 
 fewer than three musket-balls through his hat, and 
 his horse was so severely wounded, that its strength 
 served only to carry him to a place of safety ; but 
 the charge was decisive. Many of the French 
 were sabred, and the little party escaped — and now 
 the fight was renewed on all sides with desperate 
 resolution. Again and again the enemy pressed 
 forward to empty the wood of its defenders and to 
 secure the high-road ; but all their efforts failed, 
 and when the approach of darkness compelled the 
 combatants to separate, the two armies occupied 
 
CHAPTER XII. 177 
 
 almost the same ground which they had occupied 
 Avhen the figliting began. 
 
 It were vain for me to attempt any description of 
 the scene which now took place. So vigorous had 
 been the last attack, and so determined our resist- 
 ance, that when daylight disa])peared, the French 
 and allied troops found themselves completely mix- 
 ed together. Instead of the roar of musketry, my 
 ears were accordingly saluted by shouts and ex- 
 clamations, delivered in almost every European 
 tongue. French, English, German, Dutch, Spa- 
 niards, Portuguese, — the natives, in short, of al- 
 most every kingdom were here ; and as each call- 
 ed out in his own language as loud as he could 
 bawl, for the purpose of discovering his comrades, 
 and giving CAddence of his own situation, a jargon 
 was produced, such as no man has probably listen- 
 ed to before, unless we except the artificers em- 
 ployed of yore in the erection of Babel. So com- 
 plete, indeed, was the confusion, that neither the 
 one party nor the other made the slightest attempt 
 to avail itself of it for military purposes ; on the 
 contrary, we were each of us heartily glad to get 
 rid of our troublesome neighbours, and not a little 
 pleased when order became so far restored, as to 
 permit our taking up a definite position for the 
 night. 
 The enemy having gradually collected their scat- 
 
 H 2 
 
178 THE SUBALTER^^r. 
 
 tered battalions, retired to the hollow Way from 
 which they last emerged. On our part, no move- 
 ment of importance was made ; except that the 
 corps to which I belonged, leaving its original gar- 
 rison to watch the wood during the hours of dark- 
 ness, fell back as far as the green field, or rather 
 common, where we had left the rest of the brigade. 
 Here, with numbers considerably diminished, we 
 drew up in line ; when the arms being piled, we 
 followed the example of our companions, and light- 
 ed large fires, round which men and officers indis- 
 criminately crowded, in groups more or less nu- 
 merous, according as each fire was capable of af- 
 fording to them warmth. 
 
 I do not recollect to have witnessed, during the 
 whole course of my military career, a more stri- 
 king warlike spectacle than that which was now 
 before me. Besides my own corps, three battalions 
 of infantry lay stretched in a single green field 
 round their watch-fires, amounting in all to about 
 an hundred. Immediately behind them stood their 
 arms, piled up in regular order, and glancing in 
 the flames, which threw a dark red light across the 
 common, upon the bare branches beyond ; about 
 twenty yards in rear, two regiments of cavalry 
 were similarly disposed of, their horses being pi- 
 queted in line, and the men seated or lying on the 
 ground. Looking farther back again, and towards 
 
CHAPTER XII. iT9 
 
 tlie opposite side of the road, the fires of the whole 
 of the fifth and first divisions met the eye ; dark- 
 ened ever and anon, as the soldiers passed between 
 them, or a heap of wood was cast on to feed their 
 brightness. By the light of these fires, I could 
 farther perceive, that the road itself was thronged 
 with artillery and tumbrils ; whilst the glaring at- 
 mosphere above the wood showed that it too was 
 fully tenanted, and that its occupants were, like 
 ourselves, reposing in an attitude of watchfidness. 
 To complete the picture, the night chanced to be 
 imcommonly dark. Neither moon nor stars were 
 out, and though no rain fell, a considerable fog 
 was in the air, which, hindering the flames from 
 ascending beyond a certain height, caused them to 
 shed a stronger colouring upon the surrounding 
 objects. Then the knowledge that the enemy was 
 at hand, and that we only waited for the dawn of 
 to-morrow, to renew the combat ; the whole of 
 these circumstances combined, gave so deep an 
 interest to our situation, that it was long ere I was 
 able to follow the example of my comrades, and 
 lie down. Fatigue, however, at length prevailed 
 over enthusiasm ; and having heartily partaken of 
 the meal which our faithful Francisco brought up, 
 I wrapped my cloak about me, and taking my sta- 
 tion, like the rest, with my feet towards the fire, 
 I soon fell fast asleep. 
 
180 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 It was still perfectly dark when the general sth* 
 among the troops put an end to my repose. The 
 infantry stood to their arms ; the cavalry mount- 
 ed their horses ; the artillery-men were at their 
 guns with lighted matches ; all in the space of one 
 minute ; nor was a single word uttered by any man 
 beyond what was absolutely requisite in issuing 
 orders. Early as it was, however, our fires had all 
 but consumed themselves ; they had become dull 
 and red, and they threw not out heat enough to 
 keep our blood greatly above the freezing point ; 
 but we bore the intense cold with exemplary pa- 
 tience, in the full assurance of warm work as soon 
 as day-light should appear. Nor is there any hour 
 in the four-and-twenty, as every out-side traveller 
 by a stage-coach must know, so fruitful in intense 
 cold, as that which immediately precedes the dawn. 
 To-day, too, it chanced to freeze, with a cutting 
 wind directly in our faces ; nevertheless, our cou- 
 rage was high, and we counted the moments im- 
 patiently as they passed, not so much from a sense 
 of our present uncomfortable situation, as from an 
 eager desire to renew the battle. 
 
 Day dawned at length, but the enemy made no 
 movement. They were before us as they had been 
 all night, in countless numbers ; but, like our- 
 selves, they stood quietly in their ranks, as if they 
 expected to be attacked, rather than to attack. For 
 
CHAPTER XII. 181 
 
 nearly two hours both armies continued stationary, 
 till Lord Wellington coming up, ordered three 
 Portuguese battalions to advance, with no other 
 design than to bring matters to a crisis. Nor did 
 this movement fail to lead the enemy into a re- 
 newal of offensive operations. The Portuguese bri- 
 gade was gallantly met, and, after a good deal of 
 firing, repulsed ; and the repulse of it was follow- 
 ed by a determined assault upon such of our corps 
 as defended the road, and occupied the wood. 
 
 Nothing can be more spirited or impetuous than 
 the first attack of French troops. They come on, 
 for a while slowly, and in silence ; till, having 
 reached within a hundred yards or two of the point 
 to be assailed, they raise a loud but discordant yell, 
 and rush forward. The advance of their columns 
 is, moreover, covered by a perfect cloud of tirail- 
 leurs, who press on, apparently in utter confusion, 
 but with every demonstration of courage ; who fire 
 irregularly, it is true, but with great rapidity and 
 precision ; and who are as much at home in the art 
 of availing themselves of every species of cover as 
 any light troops in the world. The ardour of the 
 French is, however, admirably opposed by the cool- 
 ness and undaunted deportment of Britons. On 
 the present occasion, for instance, our people met 
 their assailants exactly as if the whole affair had 
 been a piece of acting, no man quitting his ground, 
 
182 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 but each deliberately waiting till the word of com- 
 mand was given, and then discharging his piece. 
 Every effort of Marshal Soult to possess himself of 
 the mayor's house, and of the enclosure and wood 
 about it, accordingly proved fruitless ; and hence 
 his formidable column, which covered the high- 
 road as far as the eye could reach, was, per force, 
 obliged to halt, and to remain idle. 
 
 Matters continued in this state till towards noon, 
 and yet a comparatively trifling number of our 
 troops were engaged. The entire brigade to which 
 I belonged, the brigade of light cavalry, as well as 
 the greater proportion of the first division, had been 
 mere spectators of the valour of others ; when the 
 enemy, as if worn out with fatigue, and disheart- 
 ened by repeated failures, suddenly began to retire. 
 His column of infantry having moved to the rear, 
 till some rising ground in a great degree concealed 
 it, seemed to disperse ; his guns were withdrawn, 
 and his skirmishers falling back, left our advanced 
 corps in possession of the disputed post. A retreat, 
 indeed, appeared to have fairly commenced ; and 
 to many it was matter of surprise that no pursuit 
 was on our side instituted. But our general, by 
 keeping his soldiers steady in their places, showed 
 that he was quite aware of his adversary's inten- 
 tions ; and that he was a far better judge of the 
 measures which it behoved him to adopt, than any 
 
CHAPTER XII. 183 
 
 of the numerous critics who presumed to pass cen- 
 sure upon him. The whole of this movement was 
 no other than a manoeuvre on the part of tlie French 
 Marshal, to draw our troops from their position, 
 and to enfeeble the centre of our line, by causing 
 the left to be too far advanced ; but, though skil- 
 fully executed, it proved of no avail, thanks to the 
 superior sagacity of Lord Wellington. Instead of 
 being harassed by any useless change of ground, 
 we were commanded to take advantage of the tem- 
 }X)rary truce, by cooking our dinners ; a measure 
 which the long fast of many of the soldiers, parti- 
 cularly of the Portuguese, who had eaten nothing 
 during the whole of yesterday, rendered peculiarly 
 desirable. 
 
 In a moment numerous fires were again lighted, 
 and half of the men in each regiment, disencum- 
 bering themselves of their accoutrements, set to 
 work, felling wood, boiling kettles, and preparing 
 food for their comrades. In the meanwhile six or 
 eight spring-waggons arriving, such of the wound- 
 ed as were unable to crawl to the rear were collect- 
 ed from the various spots where they lay mingled 
 with the dead, and lifted into them, ^vitll as much 
 care as circumstances would permit. It was a sad 
 spectacle this. The shrieks and groans of many 
 of these poor fellows sounded horribly in our ears ; 
 whilst the absolute silence of the rest was not less 
 
184 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 appalling, inasmuch as it gave but too much rea- 
 son to believe, that they were removed from the 
 field only to die in the waggons. Nor were the 
 muleteers, and other followers of the camp, idle. 
 These harpies, spreading themselves in vast num- 
 bers over the face of the country, stripped and 
 plundered the dead in an incredibly short space of 
 time ; and they were, withal, so skilful in their 
 vocation, that they rarely afforded an opportunity 
 of detecting them in the act. Nothing, indeed, has 
 ever astonished me more, than the celerity with 
 which these body-strippers execute their task. A 
 man falls by your side, and the very next moment, 
 if you chance to look round, he is as naked as he 
 was when he came into the world, without your 
 being able so much as to guess by whom his gar- 
 ments have been taken. 
 
 Whilst all these persons were engaged in their 
 various occupations, I wandered towards the front, 
 for the purpose of examining, in a moment of cool- 
 ness, the nature of the ground on which we had 
 yesterday fought. It was literally covered with the 
 carcases of men and horses. Round the mayor's 
 house, in particular, they lay in clusters, and not 
 a few of the Frenchmen bore marks of having 
 fallen by the sabre. One man, in particular, I ob- 
 served, whose head was cloven asunder, the sword 
 of his adversary having fairly divided it as far as 
 
CHAPTER XII. 185 
 
 the eyes ; whilst another lay upon his back, with 
 his face absolutely split into two parts, across the 
 line of the nose. The great majority had, how- 
 ever, been shot ; and they were mixed indiscri- 
 minately together, English and French, as if each 
 had been cut off by the hand of his next neigh- 
 bour. 
 
 I was not, however, so fully occupied in con- 
 templating the dead, but that I cast various an- 
 xious glances towards the living ; nor was ground 
 of anxiety wanting. The enemy had, indeed, fallen 
 back ; neither did he show any column upon the 
 road, nor any masses in the woods. But I ob- 
 served his men crossing the high-road towards our 
 right by two and threes at a time, as if some for- 
 mation were going on which he desired might 
 escape notice. Nor was the circumstance lost upon 
 my companions : " We shall have it again pre- 
 sently," said a veteran serjeant who stood near 
 me ; and the prediction was hardly uttered when 
 it was fulfilled. As if they had risen from beneath 
 the earth, two ponderous masses of infantry, co- 
 vered by the fire of twelve pieces of cannon, rush- 
 ed forward ; one, a little to the right of where I 
 was, and the other, upon the church and village 
 of Arcanques ; and such was the fury of their at- 
 tack, that, for the instant, they carried everything 
 before them. A Portuguese corps, which occu- 
 
186 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 pied the former of those parts, was broken, and 
 gave way; a British regiment, stationed to sup- 
 port them, followed their example ; and now, for 
 the first time since the battle began, the head of a 
 French column showed itself upon the common. 
 
 In the meanwhile, all was hurry and bustle in 
 the rear. The plunderers, taking to their heels, 
 fled in all directions ; the waggons with the wound- 
 ed set off at a pace by no means the most mode- 
 rate, or the least likely to jolt those who filled 
 them ; our people, casting their half-dressed pro- 
 visions into the fire, buckled on their accoutre- 
 ments, and took their stations ; whilst the artil- 
 lery, which had begun to retire, came up again, at 
 a hand gallop, to the front. Two squadrons of ca- 
 valry were next ordered out, partly to stop the fu- 
 gitives in their flight, and partly to check a body 
 of the enemy, which, at this moment, appeared 
 upon the main road ; and I must say, that our 
 troopers executed both of these orders with great 
 effect. Every man whom they met, no matter 
 whether an English or a Portuguese soldier, they 
 drove back, beating him with the flats of their 
 swords over the head and shoulders ; and then, 
 suddenly rushing past a projecting copse which 
 concealed their motions, they spread death and 
 dismay among the French infantry. But we had 
 not much time given to watch the operations of 
 
CHAPTER XII. 187 
 
 others. We were ourselves in line in a moment, 
 and advancing to the charge. 
 
 It was a tremendous and an overwhelming rush. 
 The enemy stood nobly, and fought with desperate 
 resolution, but we bore them back, as I have seen 
 one bull borne back by another, into the wood. 
 And then again began the same ceaseless roar of 
 musketry which had sounded in our ears last even- 
 ing ; whilst four or five pieces of cannon sent 
 showers of grape and cannister amongst us, which, 
 but for the shelter afforded by the trees, must have 
 swept us all into eternity. 
 
 As soon as we were fairly in the wood, our com- 
 pact order was, in spite of every effort, lost. We 
 fought, however, with the same spirit as before, 
 in detached parties, and pressed the enemy on all 
 hands, who became as much divided as ourselves, 
 — till not only was the ground recovered which 
 had at first been abandoned, but we were consi- 
 derably in advance of our original position. Nor 
 was it practicable, even then, to check the ardour 
 of the men. As fast as the enemy retired, our sol- 
 diers puslied on, till, at length, we found ourselves 
 on the margin of a little lake, round the extremity 
 of which the French were flying in gi*eat confu- 
 sion. Such a sight added fuel to the fire of our 
 eagerness ; and we pursued in a state of little less 
 
188 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 confusion than that which prevailed among the 
 fugitives. 
 
 We had already reached the farther end of the 
 lake, and were in hot and heedless chase of a cou- 
 ple of field-pieces, when a cry was suddenly raised 
 of " The cavalry ! the cavalry !" Several troops of 
 French dragoons were advancing. Their horses 
 were already in speed, — there was no time to col- 
 lect or form a square ; so we threw ourselves as 
 we best could into compact circles, and stood to 
 receive them. They came on with the noise of 
 thunder ; one circle wavered — some of the men 
 abandoned their ranks — the cavalry rode through 
 it in an instant. That in which I was stood more 
 firm. We permitted them to approach, till the 
 breasts of the horses almost touched our bayonets, 
 when a close and well-directed volley was poured 
 in, and numbers fell beneath it. But we knew 
 that we had no business to remain where we were. 
 Having, therefore, repelled this charge, we slowly 
 retraced our steps, the cavalry hovering around us 
 as we retired, till we had gained, once more, the 
 shelter of the wood, and were safe from further mo- 
 lestation. There we stood fast, till a bugle sound- 
 ing the recall, warned us to retire still farther, and 
 we again united ourselves with the rest of the bri- 
 gade. 
 
 The attack upon our post being thus defeated. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 189 
 
 we were commanded to lie down In a ditch, for 
 the purpose of sheltering ourselves against a heavy 
 cannonade with which the enemy still entertained 
 us. A couple of brigades were, at the same time, 
 marched towards the right, to support the light 
 division, which had been very sorely pressed in its 
 position at Arcanques. The French column had 
 come on at a moment when a regiment of ca9a- 
 dores, which held the church, were in the act of 
 cleaning their rifles, and hence one-half of the 
 troops were virtually unarmed. But, though driven 
 through the village and gardens, our people main- 
 tained themselves in the church, and the rising 
 groimd on which it stood ; nor did the French 
 succeed in making any lasting impression on that 
 point. The loss, however, had, on our part, been 
 so great, and the enemy still continued his exer- 
 tions with so much ardour, that it was deemed 
 requisite to send fresh regiments to relieve those 
 which had been so long engaged ; and hence five 
 or six battalions were withdrawn from our rear, 
 and the post which they had hitherto assisted in 
 maintaining was left entirely to our protection. 
 
 Whether it was the intention of Soult to cause 
 this movement, or whether he only hoped to avail 
 himself of it, as soon as it had been made, I know 
 not ; but just as the bayonets of our detached troops 
 began to glitter in the wood behind Arcanques, 
 
190 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 another most determined charge was made upon 
 the corps in our immediate front. This corps was 
 not only weak in point of numbers, but was abso- 
 lutely worn out with hard fighting and want of 
 food. It gave way almost immediately. Again the 
 French were upon us ; again we were hotly enga- 
 ged, and, as it appeared to me, with a still denser 
 and more numerous division than any which had 
 yet attacked us. The wood and the mayor's house 
 were now both of them carried — the French came 
 on with loud shouts and great courage — our Por- 
 tuguese allies fairly fled the field — one or two Bri- 
 tish regiments were overpowered ; and CA^^en we, 
 whose ranks had hitherto been preserved, began 
 to waver, when Lord Wellington himself rode up. 
 The effect was electrical. " You must keep your 
 ground, my lads," cried he; " there is nothing be- 
 hind you. — Charge ! Charge !" Instantly a shout 
 was raised. Many fugitives, who had lost their 
 own corps, threw themselves into line upon our 
 flank; we poured in but one volley, and then rush- 
 ed on with the bayonet. The enemy would not 
 stand it ; their ranks were broken, and they fled 
 in utter confusion. We followed without giving 
 them a moment to recover from their panic ; and 
 having suff*ered hardly any loss in killed and wound- 
 ed, we once more took possession of the chateau 
 and the thicket. This was the last effbrt on either 
 
CHAPTER XII. 191 
 
 side, darkness having already set in ; and hence 
 we found ourselves, for the second time, at the 
 close of a day of carnage and fatigue, occupying 
 exactly the spot of ground which we had occupied 
 when that day began. The same wild and out- 
 landish tumult ensued ; men of all countries bawl- 
 ing and hollowing to each other, and the same ar- 
 rangements of lighting fires, and lying down to 
 sleep around them, were entered into by the weary 
 combatants. The corps to which I belonged was, 
 indeed, turned about a quarter of a mile to the 
 right, where the charge of the outposts was com- 
 mitted to it; and those who had hitherto kept 
 them being called in, were permitted to repose 
 more securely in the rear. But with this excep- 
 tion, everything which had been done during the 
 night before was repeated ; and such as were not 
 actually employed on piquet, slept soundly beside 
 their watch-fires, 
 
192 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 From an unwillingness to interrupt my narra- 
 tive of the sanguinary operations of this clay, I 
 have omitted to notice an event, perhaps more im- 
 portant in its general consequences, than even 
 the successful resistance of one British corps to 
 the attack of almost the whole French army. The 
 reader will, no doubt, recollect, that at the period 
 of time respecting which I am now writing, the 
 various states of Germany which had lain so long 
 under the French yoke, were beginning once more 
 to assert their independence, — many, indeed, had 
 taken up arms against the common enemy. The 
 battle of Leipsic had been fought ; the Confedera- 
 tion of the Rhine was dissolved ; Holland and the 
 Netherlands were, in a great measure, restored to 
 their legitimate sovereign, and all in rear of the 
 allied line, extending from Hunengen to the Low 
 Countries, was free. Attached to the army of 
 Marshal Soult were several brigades of German 
 and Dutch troops, from whom the intelligence of 
 the real state of their respective countries could 
 not be concealed. Of these, about four thousand 
 
 15 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 193 
 
 men, through the instrumentality of their com- 
 manding officers, had for some time back been in 
 secret communication with Lord Wellington. All, 
 indeed, which was wanting to withdraw them from 
 the ranks of the enemy, was a convenient oppor- 
 tunity to desert ; and against this the French ge- 
 neral appeared studiously to strive. One brigade 
 he had already sent to the rear on suspicion, and 
 he had thrown out various hints that the rest must 
 speedily follow ; nor can it be doubted, that these 
 hints would have been acted upon, but for the 
 events of the three last days. The extreme fatigue 
 of his French battalions compelled him to assign 
 the advanced station, this morning, to a corps of 
 Germans, who had no sooner taken up their 
 ground, than they proposed to carry into execution 
 a plan which their officers had long matured. Col- 
 lecting their baggage, and carrying with them their 
 arms, ammunition, and accoutrements, they march- 
 ed in regular order within our lines, and were in- 
 stantly shipped, as they had previously desired, for 
 their own country. Thus, independently of his 
 loss in killed and wounded, which, on the most 
 moderate computation, could not amount to less, 
 during the late operations, than four thousand men, 
 Soult found his army weakened by the desertion 
 of fifteen hundred or two thousand veteran sol- 
 diers. 
 
 1 
 
194 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 The Germans had taken up the ground in our 
 immediate front soon after dark on the evening of 
 the 10th ; but they were not prepared to abandon 
 the cause of Napoleon at the instant. Messengers 
 were, however, sent in that night, to prepare our 
 general for what was to take place on the morrow, 
 and so to hinder the deserting column from being 
 fired on by our outposts. All was fully arranged. 
 Just before the Portuguese brigade advanced, the 
 advance of which brought on the renewal of hos- 
 tilities, the German corps began its march ; and 
 it was welcomed with cheers by its new allies, who 
 were under arms to receive it. To us it was truly 
 an animating spectacle, and it, doubtless, caused 
 not only annoyance and rage, but alarm and de- 
 spondency among the ranks of the enemy. But 
 to return to my own personal narrative. 
 
 The night of the 11th was spent, as that of the 
 10th had been spent, round our fires, and in the 
 open air. A supply of beef, biscuit, and rum had, 
 however, been issued out, and the former being 
 broiled over the coals, a substantial supper effec- 
 tually recruited the strength of those who were 
 really beginning to faint from absolute inanition. 
 Then, the grog being passed round, and pipes and 
 cigars lighted, we lay not down to sleep, till many 
 a rude joke had been bandied about, and many a 
 merry catch chanted. Not that we were altoge- 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 195 
 
 tlier insensible to more grave and melancholy feel- 
 ings. Our ranks were a good deal thinned; of 
 our beloved companions many had fallen ; and I 
 speak truly when I say, that we lamented their 
 fall, even in the midst of our mirth. But a state 
 of warfare is productive, and necessarily produc- 
 tive, of more consummate selfishness than any 
 other situation into which man is liable to be 
 thrown ; and hence, except some bosom friend 
 have perished, such as Gray was to me, and I to 
 him, it must be confessed that soldiers think less 
 of the dead than of the living. Each man, indeed, 
 is (shall I own it ?) too happy to find himself un- 
 scathed, to waste many fruitless expressions of sor- 
 row upon those whose fate has been different. 
 
 The dawn of the IStli found us, as the dawn of 
 the preceding day had done, under arms. Just be- 
 fore day broke, the battalion, leaving two compa- 
 nies to act as skirmishers, fell back to the rear of 
 a thin hedge-row, for the purpose of keeping an 
 open stubble field in its front, in case the enemy 
 should attack. By this means we hoped to throw 
 in our fire with the better effect, as they moved 
 albng this coverless ground, whilst a clear space 
 lying before us, our charge, which must of course 
 follow, would be the more decisive. But the ene- 
 my gave us no opportunity of carrpng these plans 
 into execution. 
 
196 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 The French army was still before us in im- 
 mense numbers ; but it remained perfectly quiet. 
 Hour after hour elapsed without any movement 
 being made on either side, till about eight in the 
 morning his column, which occupied the main 
 road, began to retrograde. An English officer of 
 artillery seeing this, as if determined that the re- 
 treat should not be altogether bloodless, fired the 
 two guns which he commanded, I believe, without 
 any orders being given. Whether these shots ir- 
 ritated the Marshal, or whether he was anxious 
 to deceive us into a belief of fresh hostilities on 
 his side, I know not ; but they were immediately 
 answered. The column halted, faced about, and 
 made a show of advancing. The piquets came on, 
 and a good deal of skirmishing ensued ; but no de- 
 cided attack was made, though enough was done 
 to keep our attention awake. About noon, how- 
 ever, even this firing ceased, and a sort of pause 
 in hostilities ensued. 
 
 Let me take advantage of this pause, to describe 
 the relative positions of the two armies, as far, at 
 least, as my circumscribed opportunities enabled 
 me to judge of them. 
 
 The extreme left of the British, and consequent- 
 ly the extreme right of the French army, rested 
 upon the sea. Between the high road and the sea, 
 however, lay a small lake, measuring perhaps a 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 197 
 
 mile in circumference, the ground beyond which 
 was so rugged and so inclosed, that only a few 
 companies were left to guard it. On it no military 
 operations took place. Perhaps, then, I may speak 
 more intelligibly if I say, that the'left of our army, 
 and the right of that of the enemy, rested upon the 
 lake. The main road, which was one key of our 
 position, ran along the summit of the high bank 
 above the lake. It was winding, but as nearly 
 level as high roads generally are. To defend it, a 
 battery of three guns had been thrown up a little 
 way to the left, where an inclination of the lake 
 permitted ; and where the whole of a long sweep 
 was completely commanded. On the right of the 
 road, again, was the mayor's house, with its out- 
 buildings, gardens, and thick plantations ; for the 
 possession of which so much blood had been shed. 
 So far, however, the ground was perfectly even ; 
 that is to say, neither the French nor we possess- 
 ed the advantage of an acclivity ; nor could either 
 side boast of superior cover from wood. But about 
 musket-shot from the mayor's house, the case was 
 different, and the general face of the country un- 
 derwent a change. 
 
 In the quarter of which I have last spoken, and 
 where, indeed, my owni corps was this morning 
 stationed, the French and English divisions were 
 separated from one another by a ravine. Tlie 
 
198 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 ground occupied by the enemy was, perhaps, high- 
 er than that on which we stood ; but tlien on our 
 side we were better supplied with thickets; and 
 had the contrary been the case, there was ascent 
 sufficient to give a decided advantage to the de- 
 fenders over the assailants. In both lines one or 
 two farm-houses stood conveniently enough, as 
 posts of defence ; and, on the side of the enemy, a 
 wilderness of furze-bushes covered the face of the 
 hill. 
 
 This ravine, after running in a straight direc- 
 tion about three or fom* hundred yards, wound in- 
 wards upon the French hill, so as to place the 
 church of Arcanques rather in front of our station, 
 than the contrary. That building stood, however, 
 upon a detached eminence. It was completely 
 surrounded by ravines, except in the rear, where 
 it sloped gradually down into a woody plain. Be- 
 yond Arcanques, it was not possible for me to 
 make any accurate observations ; but as far as I 
 could judge, the country appeared flat, with the 
 same sort of inequalities occurring in it, as those 
 already described. There was, however, a great 
 deal of wood scattered here and there, whilst seve- 
 ral villages, some in the possession of the French, 
 and others in our possession, could be descried. 
 On the whole, neither position could be pronoun- 
 ced greatly superior in natural strength to the 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 190 
 
 other ; nor, perhaps, would ours at least have 
 caught an eye less acute in these matters, than his 
 who selected it for his winter line. 
 
 I have said, tliat a good deal of unconnected 
 firing having been kept up till about noon, a so- 
 lemn pause ensued throughout the whole line. Not 
 that Marshal Soult had yet resigned all hope of 
 forcing our left, and so gaining the command of 
 tlie road by which our supplies were brought up ; 
 but he appeared satisfied that absolute force would 
 not secure his object, and hence he betook himself 
 to manoiuvring. Of the various changes of ground 
 which now took place among the different divisions 
 of both armies, it is vain for me to attempt any 
 minute description. What I myself beheld, how- 
 ever, may be repeated ; though it will convey but 
 a feeble idea of the magnificent operations of these 
 two mighty gamesters. 
 
 We had stood, or rather lain, quietly behind a 
 hedge about half an hour, when the arrival of a 
 group of horsemen, on the brow of the French hill, 
 attracted our attention. It was Soult and his staff. 
 The Marshal dismounted, leant his telescope over 
 the saddle of his horse, and swept our line. While 
 he was thus employed, Lord Wellington, followed 
 by about twenty aides-de-camp and orderlies, rode 
 up. The glass of our General was instantly turn- 
 ed upon his adversary, and the two commanders- 
 
200 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 in-chief gazed at each other for several seconds. 
 Now a mounted Frenchman rode to the rear of his 
 group at full speed ; whilst Lord Wellington flew, 
 as fast as his horse could gallop, towards Arcan- 
 ques ; and for ahout a quarter of an hour all was 
 still. 
 
 Soult had departed in the same direction with 
 Lord Wellington ; and we were wondering what 
 was to follow, when the head of a French column 
 suddenly showed itself on the high ground oppo- 
 site to Arcanques. An attack was of course ex- 
 pected, — but no such thing. As if the two co- 
 lumns had agreed to reach their ground at the 
 same instant, the enemy had hardly appeared, 
 when the wood, in rear of Arcanques, glittered 
 with the bayonets of the seventh division. Again 
 Soult showed himself on the ridge opposite, but a 
 good deal farther to the right, gazing, as if with 
 deep anxiety, upon the advance of these troops. 
 His plan was anticipated, and his newly-formed 
 column melted gradually away. 
 
 " Where next ?" thought I ; but no great time 
 Avas spent in wondering. The same, or another 
 mass, speedily crowned the hill opposite ; and at 
 the same moment, two or three brigades of fresh 
 troops were in our rear. Once more the enemy 
 withdrew. Thus the whole hours of light Avere 
 spent, the heads of columns appearing and disap- 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 201 
 
 peai'ing, at different points ; and both armies were 
 guided as the pieces upon a chess-board are guided, 
 when two skilful and tolerably equal players are 
 opposed. Darkness, at length, beginning to set in, 
 an end was put to the manauvring, and we again 
 nlade preparations to spend the night as comfort- 
 ably as circumstances would permit. 
 
 It fell to my lot this evening to mount piquet. 
 As soon as the night had fairly commenced, I put 
 myself at the head of the body of men which was as- 
 signed to me, and moved down to the bottom of the 
 ravine which I have already mentioned, as dividing 
 the two armies. There our watch-fire was light- 
 ed, and there the main body of the piquet took its 
 ground ; whilst the sentinels were posted a little 
 on the rise of the opposite hill. The French, on 
 the other hand, stationed their out-posts on the 
 summit, and placed their sentries opposite to ours, 
 at a distance of perhaps thirty paces. Thus, eacli 
 man was at the mercy of the other ; but both Eng- 
 lish and French sentinels were too well trained in 
 the school of modern warfare, to dream of violating 
 the sanctity which is happily thrown around them. 
 
 It will readily be imagined that this was to me 
 a night of peculiarly high excitement. My friend 
 Gray was with me, so the time passed cheerfully 
 enough, but it was wholly sleepless. We took it 
 by turns to visit our sentinels every half hour, wlio 
 
 I 2 
 
202 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 again were relieved, as sentinels generally are, each 
 at the expiration of a two-hours' watch ; and thus, 
 by going our rounds, and examining the state of 
 the men previous to their proceeding to their posts, 
 all inclination to repose was dispelled. The pri- 
 vates, indeed, on whose shoulders no responsibility 
 rested, lay down, with their firelocks beside them, 
 and slept ; but we sat by our fire, smoking and 
 conversing, whenever an opportunity of sitting was 
 granted. All, however, passed quietly off. Except 
 the voices of our own and the enemy's sentries, 
 who challenged us as we approached, no sound 
 could be heard in the front ; nor did any event oc- 
 cur worthy of notice, till midnight had long past. 
 
 It might be, perhaps, about two in the morning 
 of the 13th, when a sentinel, whose post I visited, 
 informed me, that he had heard a more than usual 
 stir in the French lines about ten minutes before, 
 and had seen a blue-light thrown up. " Have any 
 reliefs taken place among them lately ?" said I. — 
 *' Yes, sir," replied the soldier ; '' a relief has just 
 gone now." — " We must reconnoitre," rejoined I ; 
 and so saying, I stooped down, and, in a creeping 
 attitude, approached the enemy's videttes. One 
 stood directly before me. Though it was very dark, 
 I could distinguish his cap and firelock ; so I crept 
 back again, satisfied that all was quiet. 
 
 In half an hour after I visited the same man. 
 
CHAPTER XIII, 203 
 
 " Has anything occurred since ?" asked I. <• \o, 
 sir," was the answer; " all is perfectly quiet." Re- 
 peating my experiment, I found the French senti- 
 nel still stationary, and I was again satisfied. The 
 same thing occurred at each successive visitation, 
 till about four in the morning. At that hour, my 
 own sentinel stated that he had heard no relief 
 since he came on duty, neither had the man who 
 was behind heard any. Upon this I returned to 
 consult with Gray ; when it was agreed between us 
 that a patrole should go forward and ascertain at 
 once how matters stood. Taking with me four men, 
 I again crept up the hill. The vidette was still 
 there ; we approached ; he continued silent and 
 motionless. We ran up to him, — it was a bush, 
 with a soldier's cap placed upon the top of it, and 
 a musket leaning against it. The enemy were gone. 
 Not a vestige of them remained, except their fires> 
 on which a quantity of fuel had lately been heap- 
 ed. Of course, we transmitted to the rear, without 
 delay, intelligence of all that had occurred ; when 
 a general recognizance being made along the front 
 of the whole left, it was found that Soult had with- 
 drawn, and that he had carried off with him, not 
 only his artillery and baggage, but all his wound- 
 ed. We gave him ample credit for the adroitness 
 with which his retreat had been conducted. 
 
204 
 
 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 For about two hours after day-break, no move- 
 ment whatever was made on the left of the army.. 
 Parties of cavalry and light infantry were, indeed, 
 from time to time sent forward, for the purpose of 
 guarding against a sudden return of the enemy's 
 columns ; but the main body kept its ground as it 
 had done the day before, and the stations of the 
 out-posts were not altered. About nine o'clock in 
 the morning, however, a few changes occurred. 
 My piquet, for example, marched a little to the 
 right, and relieved a body of Brunswickers, which 
 occupied a farm-house near the point where the 
 ravine wound inwards upon the enemy's position ; 
 and this body, together with several other batta- 
 lions, proceeded at a quick pace towards the station 
 of General Hill's corps. The indefatigable Soult, 
 it appeared, had withdrawn his forces from before 
 us, only to carry them against the opposite flank. 
 The whole of the night of the 12th was spent in 
 filing his battalions through the entrenched camp ; 
 and by day-break on the 13th, he showed himself 
 in force upon the right of the army. But Sir Row- 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 205 
 
 land was prepared for liim. His own division kept 
 the enemy in full play, till reinforcements arrived, 
 when a decided attack was made ; and the French, 
 worn out with the exertions of the four preceding 
 days, were totally defeated. They escaped with 
 difficulty within their fortified lines, leaving five 
 thousand men upon the field. 
 
 But I must not presume to intrude upon the 
 province of the historian ; let me therefore return 
 to myself, and my own little party. 
 
 The house of which we now took possession ex- 
 hibited very unequivocal symptoms of having been 
 the arena of sundry desperate conflicts. The walls 
 were everywhere perforated with cannon-shot ; the 
 doors and windows were torn to pieces ; a shell or 
 two had fallen through the roof, and bursting in 
 the rooms on the ground-floor, had not only brought 
 the whole of the ceiling down, but had set fire to 
 the wood-work. The fire had, indeed, been extin- 
 guished ; but it left its usual traces of blackened 
 timbers and charred boarding. Several dead bodies 
 lay in the various apartments, and the little garden 
 was strewed with them. These Ave, of course, pro- 
 ceeded to bury ; but there were numbers conceal- 
 ed by the bushes on the hill-side beyond, on which 
 no sepulture could be bestowed, and which, as af- 
 terwards appeared, were left to furnish food for the 
 wolves and vultures. Then the smell, which hung 
 
206 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 not only about the interior, but the exterior of the 
 cottage, was shocking. Not that the dead had as 
 yet begun to putrefy ; for, though some of them 
 had lain for a couple of days exposed to the in- 
 fluence of the atmosphere, the weather was far too 
 cold to permit the process of decomposition to com- 
 mence ; but the odour, even of an ordinary field of 
 battle, is extremely disagreeable. I can compare it 
 to nothing more aptly than the interior of a butch- 
 er's slaughter-house, soon after he may have killed 
 his sheep or oxen for the market. Here that species 
 of perfume was peculiarly powerful ; and it was not 
 the less unpleasant, that the smell of burning was 
 mixed with it. 
 
 Having remained at this post till sun-set, I andf 
 my party were relieved, and fell back to join the 
 regiment. We found it huddled into a single cotr 
 tage, which stood at one extremity of the green 
 field, where we had halted only yesterday, to bring 
 the enemy fairly to the bayonet. Of course, our 
 accommodations were none of the best ; officers and 
 men, indeed, laid themselves down indiscriminate- 
 ly upon the earthen floor, and heartily glad was he 
 who obtained room enough to stretch himself at 
 length, without being pushed or railed at by his 
 neighbours. The night, however, passed over in 
 quiet, and sound was the sleep which followed so 
 many dangers and hardships, especially on the part 
 
 9 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 207 
 
 of US, who had spent the whole of the preceding 
 night in watchfuhiess. 
 
 Long before dawn on the morning of the 14th, 
 we were, as a matter of course, under arms. In 
 this situation we remained till the sun arose, when, 
 marching to the right, we halted not till we reach- 
 ed a rising ground in front of the ^dllage of Ba- 
 darre, and immediately in rear of the church of 
 Arcanques. When we set out the sky was cloudy, 
 and the air cold, but no rain had fallen. We had 
 hardly got to our station, however, when a heavy 
 shower descended, which, but for the opportune 
 arrival of our tents, would have speedily placed it 
 out of our power to experience any degree of bo- 
 dily comfort for the next twenty-four hours. Un- 
 der these circumstances, the tents, which a few 
 weeks ago we had regarded with horror, tvere now 
 esteemed dwellings fit for princes to inhabit, Avhilst 
 the opportunity which their shelter aflforded of dis- 
 encumbering ourselves of our apparel, was hailed 
 as a real blessing. No man who has not worn his 
 garments for five or six days on end, can conceive 
 the luxury of undressing ; and above all, the feel- 
 ing of absolute enjoyment which follows the pull- 
 ing off of his boots. 
 
 As the rain continued during the whole of the 
 day, little inducement was held out to wander 
 abroad. On the contrary, I perfectly recollect, that. 
 
208 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 for the first time in our lives, we succeeded in 
 lighting a fire in our tent, and escaped the incon- 
 venience of smoke by lying flat upon the ground; 
 and that the entire day was consumed in eating, 
 tirinking, smoking, conversing, and sleeping. No 
 doubt, my unwarlike readers will exclaim that the 
 hours thus spent, were spent unprofitably; but I 
 cannot, even now, think so, inasmuch as they were 
 hours of great enjoyment. 
 
 We were not without serious apprehension that 
 circumstances had occurred which would compel 
 Lord Wellington to keep us, during the remain- 
 der of the winter, under canvass, when the better 
 half of the day following had passed over, and no 
 order arrived for our return into quarters. Nor 
 were these feelings of alarm diminished by wit- 
 nessing the march of the whole of the 5th division 
 through our encampment, confessedly on their way 
 to comfortable cantonments- As the event proved, 
 however, our dread was perfectly groundless, for, 
 about an hour and a half after noon, we too recei- 
 ved orders ; two o'clock saw our tents struck, our 
 baggage packed up on the mules, and ourselves in 
 motion towards the high road. Of course, we flat- 
 tered ourselves that we were destined to return to 
 those rural billets, which, by dint of mechanical 
 skill and manual labour, we had made so snug ; 
 but there we were disappointed. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 209 
 
 We traversed, almost step by step, the same 
 ground over which we had travelled in the course 
 of the late military operations, till we reached the 
 identical green fields in which it had been our lot 
 to bivouac with so little comfort, on the 10th of th<3 
 preceding November. I believe I have already 
 mentioned, if not I may state here, that adjoining 
 to these fields were several farm-houses ; one of 
 them, indeed, of very respectable size and appear- 
 ance, but the rest hardly elevated above the rank 
 of cottages. In a mansion of the latter description 
 — in that same mansion, indeed, where I and a host 
 of more active animals had formerly contended 
 for the possession of a bed, were Gray, myself, 
 and our man stationed ; nor can I say, though the 
 place was certainly in better plight than when last 
 I beheld it, that we were particularly delighted with 
 our abode. 
 
 The room allotted to us was an apartment on the 
 ground-floor. It was furnished ^vith a fire-place, 
 which had been built by the corps that preceded 
 us, and among the members of which it was very 
 evident that there existed no one possessing an 
 ec^ual skill in masonry with ourselves. It smoked 
 abominably. In the construction of their ^^^ndow, 
 our predecessors had, however, been more fortu- 
 nate, their oiled paper liolding out against the 
 wind and rain with much obstinacy ; but the quar- 
 
210 THt: SUBALTERN. 
 
 ters were, on the whole, exceedingly comfortless, 
 especially when contrasted, as it was impossible 
 not to contrast them, with those which we had so 
 lately fitted up. Nevertheless, we were too happy 
 in finding ourselves once more under shelter of a 
 roof, to waste many repining thoughts upon un- 
 avoidable evils ; and we had the satisfaction to 
 know that our abode here would be of no longer 
 continuance than the duration of the winter ; if, 
 indeed, it continued so long. 
 
 It is an old and a just observation, that the term 
 comfort is one of relative, rather than of direct sig- 
 nification. To the truth of this saying we were 
 speedily compelled to bear testimony, when, about 
 two o'clock in the afternoon of the 18th, we found 
 ourselves once more in line of march, and advan- 
 cing to the front for the purpose of relieving ano- 
 ther brigade in the out-post duty. Everybody, I 
 dare say, recollects the severity of the winter of 
 1813-4. Even in the south of France, the frost 
 was at times so intense, as to cast a complete coat 
 of ice over ponds and lakes of very considerable 
 depth ; whilst storms of cold wind and rain occur- 
 red at every interval, when the frost departed. 
 The 18th of December chanced to be one of these 
 wet and windy days, and hence we could not help 
 acknowledging, when we found ourselves once 
 more exposed to the " pelting of the pitiless storm," 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 211 
 
 that our chamber, on tlie disagreeables of which 
 we had dilated with so much minuteness, was, af- 
 ter all, an abode by no means to be despised. 
 
 The corps employed in guarding the front of the 
 left column, consisted of a brigade of three batta- 
 lions, in other words, of about eighteen hundred 
 men. Of these, six hundred were appointed to fur- 
 nish the piquets, whilst the remaining twelve hun- 
 dred acted as a support, in case of need, and bu- 
 sied themselves till the hour of need should arrive, 
 in fortifying their post. The ground on which our 
 tents stood, was the identical green field, where, 
 during the late action, we had bivouacked for two 
 successive nights ; whilst our working parties were 
 employed in felling the wood round the mayor's 
 house, in throwing up breast-works contiguous to 
 it, and in constructing a square redoubt, capable 
 of holding an entire battalion in its immediate rear. 
 The redoubt was named after a daughter of the 
 worthy magistrate, who resided, for the present, 
 in the little town of Biaritz, and had already de- 
 clared himself a partizan of the Bourbons. It was 
 ciilled Fort Charlotte, and gave rise to as many 
 puns, as are usually produced by the appearance 
 of a tongue, or a dish of brains, at a Cockney's ta- 
 ble ; nor was any one more parturient of such puns, 
 than the father of the young lady himself. Be- 
 tween this gentleman, and the officer commanding 
 
212 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 the out-posts, a constant intercourse was kept up. 
 The town of Biaritz, where he dwelt, lying upon 
 the sea-shore, and out of the direct line of opera- 
 tions, was not occupied either hy the French or al- 
 lied troops. It constituted, on the contrary, a sort 
 of neutral territory, which was visited, occasion- 
 ally, hy patroles from hoth armies ; but so far re- 
 tained its independence, that its inhabitants were 
 in the constant practice of carrying their commo- 
 dities for sale, not only to our camp, but to the 
 camp of the enemy. Though the mayor professed 
 to keep up no such species of traffic, the state of 
 his property, over-run by the invading force, fur- 
 nished him also with a legitimate excuse for occa- 
 sionally looking after its preservation ; and hence 
 he contrived, from time to time, to make his ap- 
 pearance amongst us, without becoming, as far as 
 I could learn, an object of suspicion to his coun- 
 trymen. 
 
 As the duty in which we were now employed 
 was by no means agreeable, and as any very length- 
 ened exposure to the inclemency of such a season 
 must have proved detrimental to the health of those 
 exposed, it was customary to relieve the advanced 
 corps at the end of three days, by which means 
 each brigade, at least in the left column of the 
 army, found itself in the field, and under canvass, 
 only once in three or four weeks. That to which 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 213 
 
 I was attached, filled what may be termed the sta- 
 tionary outposts, only four times during the entire 
 winter, nor have I any reason to believe that wc 
 were, in this respect, peculiarly favoured. Of the 
 events which took place during our present inter- 
 val of more active service, it is needless to enter 
 into any minute detail. They were such as gene- 
 rally occur on similar occasions ; that is to say, 
 our time was passed in alternate watching, and la- 
 bour : whilst an uninterrupted continuance of cold 
 and stormy Aveather, rendered the arrival of the 
 troops destined to succeed us highly acceptable. IS or 
 was this temporary endurance of hardship and fa- 
 tigue Avithout its good eflfect. We learned from it 
 to lay aside what yet remained to us of fastidious- 
 ness, and we returned to our quarters perfectly 
 reconciled to those inconveniences and drawbacks, 
 which existed more, perhaps, in our imagination, 
 than in reality. 
 
 I should try beyond all endurance the patience 
 of my reader, were I to relate in regular detail, 
 the occurrences of each day, from the 21st of De- 
 cember, 1813, when we returned to our canton- 
 ments, to the 2d of January, ISli, when we again 
 quitted them. Enough is done, when I state in 
 few words, that the ordinary resources against 
 ennui, that is to say, shooting, coursing, and even 
 fishing, were adopted : and that the evenings were 
 
214 THE SUBALTERN, 
 
 spent, for the most part, in convivial parties, to 
 the inordinate consumption of cigars, wine, and 
 sometimes of patience. Nor were other, and more 
 rational employments wanting. On more than one 
 occasion I visited St Jean de Luz, attended high 
 mass, and the theatre ; and once I rode as far to 
 the rear as Irun. The effect of the latter ride upon 
 myself, was vivid at the time ; and may perhaps 
 be worth conveying to others. 
 
 The distance from our present cantonments to 
 the town of Irun might amount to sixteen or eigh- 
 teen miles. Over the whole of that country, be- 
 tween the two extreme points, the tide of war, it 
 will be recollected, had swept; not boisterously, 
 but with comparative harmlessness, — as when one 
 army rapidly retreats, and another rapidly follows, 
 — but slowly and ruinously ; every foot of ground 
 having been obstinately contested, and hence every 
 fold, garden, and dwelling, having been exposed 
 to the ravages inseparable from the progress of 
 hostilities. The spectacle which presented itself 
 on each side of the road, was accordingly distress- 
 ing in the extreme ; the houses and hovels were 
 everywhere in ruins, the inclosures and cultivated 
 fields were all laid waste and desolate, whilst the 
 road itself was strewed with the carcases of oxen, 
 mules, horses, and other animals, which had drop- 
 ped down from fatigue, and died upon their march. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 215 
 
 I was particularly struck with the aspect of things 
 in and ahout the town of Urogne. Of the works 
 on the heights above it, so carefully and so skil- 
 fully erected by Marslial Soult, some had already 
 begun to yield to the destructive operation of the 
 elements, and others had been wantonly demolish- 
 ed by the followers of the camp ; whilst, in the 
 town itself, where so lately was heard tlie roar of 
 cannon, and the rattle of musketry, the most per- 
 fect silence prevailed. It was wholly tenantless ; 
 not even a sutler or muleteer had taken up his 
 abode there ; the cavalry were all withdrawn ; and 
 of the original inhabitants not one had returned. 
 The reader will easily believe that I looked round, 
 during this part of my journey, with peculiiir in- 
 terest, for the fields across which I had myself 
 skirmished ; more especially for a friendly hedge, 
 the intervention of a stout stake in which had 
 saved my better arm ; and that I did not pass the 
 churchyard, without dismounting to pay a visit to 
 the grave of my former comrades. Neither was I 
 unmindful of the chateau, in which, to my no small 
 surprise, I had found a letter from my father ; and 
 the change wrought in it, since last I beheld it, 
 gave me a more perfect idea of the disastrous ef- 
 fects of war, than any other object upon which I 
 had yet looked. 
 
 When a man of peaceable habits, — one, for ex- 
 
216 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 ample, who lias spent his whole life in this favour- 
 ed country, under the shelter of his own sacred 
 roof, — reads of war, and the miseries attendant 
 upon war, his thoughts invariably turn to scenes 
 of outrage and rapine, in which soldiers are the ac- 
 tors, and to which the hurry and excitement of 
 battle give rise. I mean not to say that a battle is 
 ever fought without bringing havock upon the face 
 of that particular spot of earth which chances to 
 support it. But the mischief done by both con- 
 tending armies, to the buildings and property of 
 the inhabitants, is a mere nothing, when compared 
 to that which the followers of a successful army 
 work. These wretches tread in the steps of the 
 armed force, with the fidelity and haste of kites 
 and vultures. No sooner is a battle won, and the 
 troops pushed forward, than they spread them- 
 selves over the entire territory gained ; and all 
 which had been spared by those, in whom an act 
 of plunder, if excusable at all, might most readily 
 be excused, is immediately laid waste. The cha- 
 teau of which I am speaking, for example, and 
 which I had left perfectly entire, fully furnished, 
 and in good order, was now one heap of ruins. Not 
 a chair or a table remained ; not a volume of all 
 the library so lately examined by me, existed ; nay, 
 it was evident from the blackened state of the 
 
 walls, and the dilapidation of the ceilings, that fire 
 
 7 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 217 
 
 liad been wantonly applied to complete the devas- 
 tation which avarice had begun. To say the truth, 
 I could not but regret at the moment, that I liad 
 not helped myself to a little more of Monsieur 
 Briguette's property, than the Spanish Grammar 
 already advertised for redemption. 
 
 Having cleared Urogne, and passed through the 
 remains of the barricade which I had assisted in 
 carrying on the tenth of the last month, I soon ar- 
 rived at the site of the village of which I have for- 
 merly taken notice, as being peopled and furnish- 
 ed with shops and other places of accommodation, 
 by sutlers and adventurers. The huts, or cottages, 
 still stood, though they were all unroofed, and 
 manv of them otherwise in ruins ; but the sicrn of 
 the "Jolly Soldier" had disappeared. Like other 
 incitements to folly, if not to absolute vice, it had 
 followed the tract of the multitude. I marked, 
 too, as I proceeded, the bleak hill-side on which 
 our tents had so long contended with the winds of 
 heaven ; and I could not help thinking, how many 
 of those who had found shelter beneath their can- 
 vass, were now sleeping upon the bosom of mo- 
 ther-earth ; of course, I paid to their memories 
 the tribute of a regret as unavailing as, I fear, it 
 was transitory. 
 
 By and by I reached the brow of the last height 
 on the French border, and the Bidassoa once more 
 
 K 
 
218 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 lay beneath me. The clay on which my present 
 excursion was made, chanced to be one of the few 
 lovel}^ days with which, during that severe winter, 
 we were favoured. The air was frosty, but not in- 
 tensely so ; the sky was blue and cloudless, and 
 the sun shone out with a degree of warmth, which 
 cheered, without producing languor or weariness. 
 High up, the mountains which overhang the river 
 were covered with snow, which sparkled in the 
 sun-beams, and contrasted beautifully with the 
 sombre hue of the leafless groves beneath, whilst the 
 stream itself flowed on as brightly and as placidly 
 as if it had never witnessed a more desperate strug- 
 gle than that which the fisherman maintains with 
 a trout of extraordinary agility and dimensions. 
 Fain would I have persuaded myself that I was 
 quietly travelling in a land of peace; but there 
 were too many proofs of the contrary ever and anon 
 presented, to permit the delusion to keep itself for 
 one moment in the mind. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 219 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The stone bridge which was wont to connect 
 the two banks of the Biclassoa, and which the 
 French, after their evacuation of the Spanish ter- 
 ritory? had destroyed, was not, I found, repaired ; 
 but a temporary bridge of pontoons rendered the 
 stream passable, without subjecting the traveller 
 to the necessity of fording. A party of artificers 
 were, moreover, at work, renewing the arches 
 which had been broken down, whilst a new tete- 
 du-pont on the opposite side from the old one, was 
 already erected, to be turned to account in case of 
 any unlooked-for reverse of fortune, and conse- 
 quent retreat beyond the frontier. I observed, too, 
 that the whole front of the pass, beyond the river, 
 was blocked up with redoubts, batteries, and breast- 
 works, and that Lord Wellington, though pressing 
 forward with Victory in his train, was not'un- 
 mindful of the fickleness of the blind goddess. 
 
 As I was crossing the pontoon bridge, two ob- 
 jects, very different in kind, but intimately con- 
 nected the one with the other, attracted my at- 
 tention almost at the same moment. A bodv of 
 
220 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 Spanish cavalry, which appeared to have passed 
 the river at one of the fords a little higher up, pre- 
 sented themselves as they wound up a steep by- 
 path which communicated with the high road just 
 beside the old tete-du-pont. They were Guerillas, 
 and were consequently clothed, armed, and mount- 
 ed, in a manner the least uniform that can well be 
 imagined. Of the men, some were arrayed in 
 green jackets, with slouched hats, and long fea- 
 thers ; others in bl ue, helmeted like our yeoman- 
 ry, or artillery-drivers, whilst not a few wore cui- 
 rasses and brazen head-pieces, such as they had 
 probably plundered from their slaughtered ene- 
 mies. But, notwithstanding this absence of uni- 
 formity in dress, the general aj^pearance of these 
 troopers was exceedingly imposing. They were, 
 on the whole, well mounted, and they marched in 
 that sort of loose and independent manner, which, 
 without indicating the existence of any discipline 
 amongst them, bespoke no want of self-confidence 
 in individuals. Their whole appearance, indeed, 
 for they could not exceed sixty or eighty men, re- 
 minded me forcibly of a troop of bandits ; and the 
 resemblance was not the less striking, that they 
 moved to the sound, not of trumpets or other mar- 
 tial music, but of their own voices. They were 
 singing a wild air as they passed, in which some- 
 times one chanted by himself, then two or three 
 
CHAPTER XV. 221 
 
 chimed in, and, by and by, the whole squadron 
 joined in a very musical and spirited chorus. 
 
 The other object wliich divided my attention 
 mth these bold-looking, but lawless warriors, was 
 about half-a-dozen dead bodies, which the flow of 
 the tide brought at this moment in contact with 
 the pontoons. They were quite naked, bleached 
 perfectly white, and so far had yielded to the ope- 
 ration of decay, that they floated like rags of linen 
 on the surface of the water. Perhaps these were 
 some of our own men who had fallen in the pass- 
 age of the river upwards of eight weeks ago ; or 
 perhaps they were the bodies of such of the French 
 soldiers as had perished in their retreat after one 
 of Soult's desperate, but fruitless efforts, to relieve 
 the garrison of St Sebastian's. Who, or what they 
 were, I had no means of ascertaining, nor was it 
 of much consequence ; to whatever nation they had 
 once belonged, they were now food for the fishes ; 
 and to the fishes they were left, no one dreaming 
 that it was requisite to pull them to land, or to 
 rob one set of reptiles of their prey only to feed 
 another. 
 
 Such is a summary of the events which befell 
 me in a morning's ride from the cantonments at 
 Gauthory, to the town of Irun. After crossing the 
 river, my progress was direct, and of little inte- 
 rest. I journeyed, indeed, amid scenes all of them 
 
222 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 familiar, and therefore, in some degree, having a 
 claim upon my own notice ; but I neither saw nor 
 met with any object worth describing to my read- 
 er. It was a little past the hour of noon, when my 
 horse's hoofs clanked upon the pavement of Irun. 
 I found that city just recovering from the bustle 
 which the departure of a corps of twenty thousand 
 Spanish infantry may be supposed to have pro- 
 duced. This vast body of men had, it appeared, 
 behaved so badly in the action of the ninth of No- 
 vember, that Lord Wellington was induced to or- 
 der them to the rear in disgrace ; and they had 
 remained in quarters in Irun and the neighbour- 
 hood, till on the day preceding my arrival, when 
 they were again permitted to join the army. By 
 whom they were commanded on the day of their 
 shame, I have totally forgotten ; nor will I cast a 
 slur upon the reputation of any general officer, by 
 naming one at random. 
 
 Notwithstanding the departure of so great a mul- 
 titude, I found the place far from deserted either 
 by military or eif il inhabitants. A garrison of two 
 or three thousand^soldiers was still there ; a corps, 
 I believe, of militia, or national guards ; whilst few 
 of the houses were unoccupied, though whether 
 by their rightful occupants or not, I take it not 
 upon me to determine. One thing, however, I per- 
 fectly recollect, and that is, the extreme incivility 
 
CHAPTER XV. 223 
 
 and absence of all hospitality which distinguished 
 them. Wliether it was that the troops so long quar- 
 tered amongst them had filled them with hatred of 
 my countrymen, or whether that jealousy which 
 the Spanish people have uniformly felt, and Avhich, 
 in spite of all that Lord Nugent and Sir Robert 
 Wilson may assert to the contrary, they feel, even 
 now, towards the English, was, of its o^^^l accord, 
 beginning to gather strength, T cannot tell ; but I 
 well remember that it was with some difficulty I 
 persuaded the keeper of an inn to put up my own 
 and my servant's horses in his stable ; and with 
 still greater difficulty that I could prevail upon 
 him to dress an omelet for my dinner. Nor was 
 this all ; my journey, be it kno^\ai, had been un- 
 dertaken not from curiosity alone, but in the hope 
 of laying in a stock of coffee, cheese, tea, &c., at a 
 cheap rate. But every effort to obtain these was 
 fruitless, the merchants sulkily refusing to deal 
 with me, except on the most exorbitant terms. I 
 was not sorry, under such circumstances, when, 
 having finished my omelet, and baited and rested 
 my horses, I turned my back upon Irun, and took 
 once more a direction towards Ihe front. 
 
 I would lay before my readers a detail of ano- 
 ther excursion executed on Christmas-dav, to St 
 Jean de Luz, were I not fully aware that there are 
 few among them who are not as well acquainted 
 
224 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 as myself with the circumstances attending the 
 celebration of that festival in a Roman Catholic 
 country. On the present occasion, all things were 
 done with as much pomp and show as the state of 
 the city, filled with hostile battalions, and more 
 than half-deserted by its inhabitants and priest- 
 hood, would permit. For my own part, I viewed 
 the whole not with levity, certainly, but as cer- 
 tainly without devotion ; the entire scene appear- 
 ing to me better calculated to amuse the external 
 senses, and dazzle the imagination, than to stir up 
 the deeper and more rational sensations of piety. 
 I returned home, nevertheless, well pleased with 
 the mode in which the morning had been spent j 
 and, joining a party of some ten or twelve who 
 had clubbed their rations for the sake of setting 
 forth a piece of roast-beef worthy of the occasion, 
 I passed my evening not less agreeably than I had 
 passed the morning. 
 
 Among other events during our sojourn at Gau- 
 thory, a sale of the effects of such of our brother- 
 officers as had fallen in the late battles took place. 
 On such occasions, the serjeant-major generally 
 acts the part of auctioneer, and a strange com- 
 pound of good and bad feeling accompanies the 
 progress of the auction. In every party of men, 
 there will always be some whose thoughts, cen- 
 tring entirely in self, regard everything as com- 
 
CHAPTER XV. 225 
 
 mendable, or the reverse, solely as it increases 
 their enjoyments, or diminishes them. Even the 
 sale of the clothes and accoutrements of one who 
 but a few weeks or days before was their living, 
 and perhaps favourite companion, furnishes to such 
 men food for mirth ; and I am sorry to say, that 
 during the sale of which I now speak, more laugh- 
 ter was heard than redounded to the credit of those 
 who joined in, or produced it. In passing this cen- 
 sure upon others, I mean not to exclude myself — 
 by no means. I fear that few lauglied more hearti- 
 ly than I, when shirts with nine tails, or no tails 
 at all, were held up against the sun by the facetious 
 auctioneer ; and when sundry pairs of trowsers 
 were pressed upon our notice as well adapted for 
 summer-wear, inasmuch as their numerous aper- 
 tures promised to admit a free current of air to 
 cool the blood. But, with one or two exceptions, 
 I must say, that there was not a man present who 
 thought of the former ownei's of these tail-less 
 shirts without affection, and who would not have 
 willingly given the full value, ay, even of the shirts 
 themselves, could that sum have redeemed them 
 from the power of the grave. This sale, however, 
 acted as a sort of warning to me. Though my 
 wardrobe was in as good condition as that of most 
 men, I chose not to have it or its owner made the 
 subject of a joke, so I inserted among my few me- 
 
 K 2 
 
226 THE SUBALTEllN. 
 
 moranda, a request that no article of mine should 
 be put up to auction, but that all should be given, 
 in case I fell, as expressly appointed. 
 
 I have said, that the usual means of defeating 
 ennui, namely, shooting, coursing, and fishing, 
 were resorted to by Gray and myself, whilst we 
 inhabited these cantonments. Among other expe- 
 riments, we strolled down one lovely morning to- 
 wards the sea, with the hope of catching some fish 
 for our dinner. In that hope we were disappoint- 
 ed, but the exquisite beauty of the marine view to 
 which our walk introduced us, amply made amends 
 for the absence of sport. It was one of those soft 
 and enervating days which even in England we 
 sometimes meet with, during the latter weeks of 
 December, and which, in the south of France, are 
 very frequent at that season. The sun was shi- 
 ning brightly and warmly, not a breath of air was 
 astir, and the only sound distingiiishable by us, 
 who stood on the summit of the cliff, was the gen- 
 tle and unceasing murmur of tiny waves, as they 
 threw themselves upon the shingle. The extent of 
 waters upon which we gazed, was bounded on the 
 right by the head-lands at the mouth of the Adour, 
 and on the left by those near Passages. Before us 
 the waste seemed interminable, and I am not sure 
 that it was the less sublime because not a boat or 
 vessel of any description could be descried upon it. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 227 
 
 At such moments as these, and when contempla- 
 ting such a scene, it is hardly possible for any man 
 to hinder his thoughts from wandering away from 
 the objects immediately around him, to the land 
 of his nativity, and the home of his fathers. I do 
 not recollect any hour of my life during which the 
 thought of home came more powerfully across me 
 than the present. Perhaps, indeed, the season of the 
 year had some effect in producing these thoughts. 
 It was the season of mirth and festivity — of licensed 
 uproar and innocent irregularity ; and cold and 
 heartless must he be who remembers not his home, 
 however far removed from him, when that season 
 returns. I confess that the idea of mine brought 
 something like moisture into my eyes, of which I 
 had then no cause to be ashamed, and the remem- 
 brance of which produces in me no sense of shame 
 «ven now. 
 
 The walk towards the sea became from this time 
 my favourite, but it was not my only one. Attend- 
 ed by my faithful spaniel, (a little animal, by the 
 way, which never deserted me even in battle,) I 
 wandered with a gun across my shoulder over a 
 great extent of country, and in all directions. I 
 found the scenery beautiful, but far less beauti- 
 ful than I had expected/^p find it in the south of 
 France. There was ilo want of wood, it is true ; 
 and corn fields, or rather fields lying fallow, were 
 
 \ 
 
228 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 intermixed, in fair proportion, with green mea- 
 dows and sloping downs. But there was nothing 
 striking or romantic anywhere, except in the bokl 
 boundary of the Pyrenees, now twenty miles dis- 
 tant. I observed, however, that there was no want 
 of chateaux and gentlemen's seats. These were 
 scattered about in considerable numbers, as if this 
 had been a favourite resort of those few among the 
 French gentry who prefer the quiet of the country 
 to the bustle and hurry of Paris. Some of these 
 chateaux were, moreover, exceedingly elegant in 
 their appearance, and indicated from that, as well 
 as from their extent, that they belonged to men of 
 higher rank than the Mayor of Biaritz ; but the 
 generality were of a description which bespoke 
 their owners as belonging to the class of wealthy 
 merchants, who supported their town-houses and 
 Warerooms in Bayonne, or perhaps in Bourdeaux. 
 But all were thoroughly ransacked. Over them, 
 as well as over the houses in our rear, the storm 
 of rapine had passed, leaving its usual traces of 
 dilapidation and ruin behind. 
 
 It is needless to continue a narrative of such 
 events. Thus passed several weeks, the business 
 of one day resembling, in almost every respect, 
 the business of another. Whenever the weather 
 would permit, I made a point of living out of 
 doors ; when the contrary was the case, I adopt- 
 
CHAPTER XV. 229 
 
 ed the ordinary expedients to kill time within. 
 Nor were we, all this while, without a few occur- 
 rences calculated to hinder our forgetting that we 
 really were in an enemy's country, and at the seat 
 of war. The bloody flag was more than once hoist- 
 ed on the tower of the church of Arcanques, as 
 a signal that the French troops were in motion, 
 and we, in our turn, stood to arms. But of such 
 alarms almost all proved to be groundless, and 
 those which were not intendedly so, might as well 
 have been omitted. The fact was that Soult, ha- 
 ving been called upon at this time to detach some 
 divisions of his Aeteran soldiers to the assistance 
 of Napoleon, already hard pressed by the allies in 
 the north, was under the necessity of impressing 
 into his service every male capable of bearing arms, 
 who was not absolutely required to cultivate the 
 soil. The entire winter was accordingly spent by 
 him in training the conscripts to the use of arms. 
 He marched and countermarched them from place 
 to place, that they might learn to move with cele- 
 rity and in order. He set up targets for them to 
 fire at, and caused frequent alarms to our piquets 
 when teaching his recruits to take a correct aim ; 
 he was, in short, now, as he always was, indefati- 
 gable in providing for the defence of the country 
 committed to his care, and m his endeavours to 
 make the most of a force assuredly not adequate 
 
230 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 for the purpose. But we were not doomed to be 
 continually the dupes of false alarms, nor to be 
 amused for ever with the issuing of orders, which 
 were scarcely issued when they were again re- 
 tracted. A necessity for a real movement occur- 
 red at last, and we bade adieu for ever to the cot- 
 tage at Gauthory, which we first entered with re- 
 gret, and finally quitted without reluctance. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 231 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 It might be about six or seven o'clock in the 
 morning of the 3cl of January, 1814, when an or- 
 derly Serjeant burst into our chamber, and desired 
 us to get the men under arms without delay, for 
 that the enemy were in motion. In an instant we 
 sprang from our beds, dressed and accoutred forth- 
 with, ordered the trumpeter to sound the assem- 
 bly, and our servants to prepare breakfast. The 
 last of these injunctions was obeyed in an incredi- 
 bly short space of time, insomuch, that Avhilst the 
 troops Avere hurrying to their stations, we were de- 
 vouring our morning's repast ; and, in little more 
 than a quarter of an hour from the first signal of 
 alarm, the regiment was formed in marching-order 
 upon the high road. Nor w^ere many moments 
 wasted in that situation. The word was given to 
 advance, and we again pressed forward towards 
 the mayor's house. 
 
 When we reached the post, or common, of which 
 so mucli notice has already been taken, we found, 
 indeed, that the whole of the left column was mo- 
 ving, but that the old battle-giound ai-ound the 
 
232 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 chateau, and in the woods and enclosures near it, 
 was left entirely to the protection of the ordinary 
 piquets. Of the enemy's forces, not a single bat- 
 talion showed itself here ; whilst our own were all 
 filing towards the right, — a rout into which we also 
 quickly struck, as if following the natural current 
 of the stream of war. In this journey we passed 
 over a good deal of ground which was already fa- 
 miliar to us, skirting the brow of the ravine which 
 had separated the hostile armies during the pauses 
 in their late contest, till having reached the mea- 
 dow where our camp had forinerly been pitched, 
 we were turned into a new direction, and led up- 
 wards till we gained the top of the hill on which 
 the church of Arcanques stands, and round the 
 base of which the village of Arcanques is scatter- 
 ed. In the maintenance of this post we relieved 
 a section of the light division, which immediately 
 took a rightward course ; thus indicating that the 
 whole strength of the army would be mustered at 
 one extremity, and other points of the line left to 
 the protection of a few scattered brigades. 
 
 It was evening before we reached our ground, 
 and as yet no provisions had been issued out to us. 
 Of course, our appetites were excellent, indeed 
 the appetites of men who have nothing to eat are 
 seldom sickly ; and this we amply demonstrated, as 
 soon as an opportunity of demonstrating the fact 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 233 
 
 was offered. Little time, however, was given for 
 the enjoyment of social intercourse or bodily rest ; 
 for we had hardly swallowed a hasty meal, when 
 the better half of the corps was sent forward to oc- 
 cupy a few cottages in front of the village ; and the 
 remainder of the night was spent in that state of 
 excitement and anxiety, which necessarily waits 
 upon such as form the outposts or advanced guard 
 of an army. 
 
 My own station this night was not exactly at one 
 of the most forward posts, but in a ruinous build- 
 ing at the outskirts of the village, where I was pla- 
 ced, with a body of men, to support the piquets. 
 The thing into which we were ushered had, no 
 doubt, once upon a time been a habitable mansion ; 
 at present it consisted of little else than the shell, 
 and a very wretched shell, of a farm-house. Not 
 only were the doors and windows gone, but the 
 ceilings and partitions, which were wont to divide 
 one apartment from another, were all broken down, 
 whilst the roof was in a great measure stripped off, 
 and the fragments which remained of it were per- 
 forated in all directions. I well recollect that the 
 night was piercingly cold. The frost had of late 
 set in with renewed severity, and a sharp north- 
 erly wind blowing, swept with a melancholy sound 
 through our dilapidated mansion. But we were on 
 little ceremony here. Large fires were lighted in 
 
234 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 different places upon the earthen floor, round which 
 we gladly crept ; whilst an allowance of grog he- 
 ing brought up, and pipes and cigars lighted, we 
 were soon as merry and as light-hearted as men 
 could desire to be. It is true that ever and anon — 
 every half hour, for example — a party of six or 
 eight of us sallied forth, to patrole from piquet to 
 piquet, and to see that all was right between, but 
 we returned from such excursions with increased 
 predilection for our fire-side ; and the events of the 
 ramble, be they what they might, furnished food 
 for conversation till another was deemed neces- 
 sary. 
 
 So passed the night of the third; and on the 
 morning of the fourth I expected, as an ordinary 
 matter, to be relieved, and to be withdrawn to the 
 rear ; but it was not so. Men, it appeared, were 
 scarce at this part of the line ; and hence those 
 who formed it were called upon to perform double 
 duty. Instead of being removed to some place 
 where a sound night's rest might be enjoyed, I and 
 my party found ourselves, on the morning of the 
 fourth, ordered to advance, and to occupy the fore- 
 most chain ; from which we had the satisfaction of 
 beholding the enemy, in very considerable force, 
 at the distance of little more than a quarter of a 
 mile from our sentries. This sight, however, only 
 gave a spur to our exertions, and hindered us from 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 235 
 
 repining at what we might have been otherwise 
 tempted to consider as an undue exercise of our 
 powers of watchfulness. 
 
 The particular piquet of which I was placed in 
 command happened to be detached from all others, 
 and to be nearly half a mile in front of the rest. 
 It was stationed on a sort of sugar-loaf hill, sepa- 
 rated from our own regular chain of posts by a 
 deep and rugged glen, and kept apart from the 
 French lines only by an imaginary boundary of 
 hedges and paling. So exposed, indeed, was the 
 spot, that I received positive orders to abandon it 
 as soon as darkness should set in, and to retire 
 across the hollow to the high grounds opposite. 
 The reader will easily believe that, in such a situ- 
 ation, little leisure was given for relaxation either 
 of body or mind. During the entire day, indeed, 
 my occupation consisted in prying closely, with 
 the aid of a telescope, into the enemy's lines ; in 
 considering how I could best maintain myself in 
 case of an attack, and retreat most securely in case 
 I should be overpowered. 
 
 The view from my piquet-house was, however, 
 extremely animating. Beneath me, at the distance 
 of only two fields, lay the French out-posts, about 
 a quarter of a mile, or half a mile, in rear of which 
 were encamped several large bodies both of infan- 
 try and cavalry. Of these, it was evident that vast 
 
236 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 numbers were raw recruits. They were at drill, 
 marching and countermarching, and performing 
 various evolutions, during the greater part of the 
 day, — a circumstance which at first excited no lit- 
 tle uneasiness on my part, inasmuch as I expected 
 every moment that my post would be assaulted ; 
 but as soon as I saw a target erected, and the troops 
 practising with ball, I became easy. " There will 
 be no attack to-day," thought I, " otherwise so 
 much ammunition would not be wasted." 
 
 I had hardly said so, when I observed a mounted 
 officer advancing from the enemy's camp toward 
 the base of the hill which my party held. He was 
 followed by a cloud of people, in apparent confu- 
 sion, it is true, but not more confused than French 
 skirmishers generally appear to be, who lay down 
 behind the hedges in the immediate front of my 
 sentinels, as if waiting for an order to fire and to 
 rush on. I had just ordered my people under arms, 
 and was proceeding towards the sentries for the 
 purpose of giving a few necessary orders, when the 
 French officer halted, and a trumpeter, who accom- 
 panied him, sounded a parley. Of course I descend- 
 ed the hill, and causing my trumpeter to answer 
 the signal, the Frenchman advanced. He was the 
 bearer of letters from such British officers and sol- 
 diers as had been taken in the late actions ; and he 
 likewise handed over to me several sums of money 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 837 
 
 and changes of clothing for some of his country- 
 men who had fallen into our hands. 
 
 This being done, we naturally entered into con- 
 versation touching the state of Europe, and the 
 events of the war. My new acquaintance utterly 
 denied the truth of Napoleon's reverses, and seem- 
 ed to doubt the idea of an invasion of France by 
 the armies of the North. He assured me that the 
 whole country was in arms ; that every peasant had 
 become a soldier ; that bands of partizans were 
 forming on all sides of us ; and that it was vain to 
 hope that we should ever pass the Adour, or pro- 
 ceed farther within the sacred territory than we 
 had already proceeded. He spoke of the desertion 
 of the German corps with a degree of bitter con- 
 tempt, which proved, — the very reverse of what he 
 was desirous of proving, — that the event had great- 
 ly shaken the confidence of Soult in his auxiliaries ; 
 and, above all, he affected to regard the whole of the 
 recent operations as mere affairs, or trifling con- 
 tests of detachments, in no way capable of influen- 
 cing the final issues of the war. Yet he was not 
 displeased when I laughed at his style of oratory ; 
 and, after gasconading a good deal, both the one 
 and the other, we shook hands, and parted the best 
 friends imaginable. 
 
 I had hardly quitted him, at least I had not reach- 
 ed my station on the top of the hill, when I heard 
 
238 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 myself called by one of the sentinels, and turned 
 round. I saw the individual with whom I had been 
 conversing sitting in the midst of a little group of 
 French officers, and watching the progress of an 
 old woman, who was coming towards our lines. 
 She held a large bottle in her hand, which she lift- 
 ed up to attract my notice, and continued to move 
 forward, gabbling loudly all the while. Obeying 
 her signal, I returned, and met her a few yards in 
 front of the sentries, when she delivered to me about 
 a couple of quarts of brandy, as a present from 
 the French officers ; who had desired her to say, 
 that if I could spare them a little tea in exchange, 
 they would feel obliged. It so happened that I had 
 brought no such luxury as tea to my post. Of this 
 I informed the female Mercury, but I desired her 
 to offer my best acknowledgments to her employ- 
 ers, and to add, that I had sent to the rear in or- 
 der to procure it. With this message she according- 
 ly departed, having promised to keep in sight for 
 at least half an hour, and to return as soon as I 
 should make a sign that the tea had arrived. 
 
 My bugler made good haste, and soon returned 
 with about a quarter of a pound of black tea, the 
 half of the stock which remained in my canteen. 
 In the meanwhile the French officers continued 
 sitting together, and all rose when I waved my cap 
 to their carrier. The old lady was not remiss in 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 239 
 
 taking the hint. I handed over to lier the little 
 parcel, with numerous apologies for its tenuity ; 
 and I had the satisfaction to perceive that, trifling 
 as it was, it proved acceptable. The party pulled 
 off their hats as an acknowledgment — I did the 
 same ; and we each departed to our respectiAc sta- 
 tions. 
 
 There is something extremely agreeable in car- 
 rying on hostilities after this fashion ; yet the mat- 
 ter may be pushed too far. Towards the close of 
 the war, indeed, so good an understanding prevail- 
 ed between the out-posts of the two armies, that 
 Lord Wellington found it necessary to forbid all 
 communication whatever ; nor will the reader won- 
 der at this, when I state to him the reason. A 
 field-officer, (I shall not say in what part of the 
 line,) in going his rounds one night, found that the 
 whole of the Serjeant's piquet-guard had disappear- 
 ed. He was, of course, both alarmed and surprised 
 at the occurrence ; but his alarm gave place to ab- 
 solute astonishment, when, on stretching forward 
 to observe whether there was any movement in the 
 enemy's lines, he peeped into a cottage from which 
 a noise of revelry was proceeding, and beheld the 
 party sitting in the most sociable manner with a si- 
 milar party of Frenchmen, and carousing jovially. 
 As soon as he showed himself, his own men rose, 
 and wishing their companions a goodnight, return- 
 
240 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 ed with the greatest sang-froid to their post. It is, 
 however, but justice to add, that the sentinels on 
 both sides faithfully kept their ground, and that no 
 intention of deserting existed on either part. In 
 fact, it was a sort of custom, tlie French and Eng- 
 lish guards visiting each other by turns. 
 
 At the period of which I have spoken above, 
 however, no such extraordinary intimacy had be- 
 gun. As yet we were merely civil toAvards one 
 another ; and even that degree of civility was for 
 a while interrupted, by the surprisal of a French 
 i-post by a detachment from General Beresford's 
 division, on the river Nive. Not that the piquet 
 was wantonly cut off, or that any blame could pos- 
 sibly attach to the general who ordered its surpri- 
 sal. The fact was, that the outpost in question 
 occupied a hill upon the allied bank of the stream. 
 It was completely insulated and detached from all 
 other French posts, and appeared to be held as 
 much out of perverseness, as because it command- 
 ed a view of the British lines to a great extent. 
 Lord Beresford had repeatedly dispatched flags of 
 truce, to request that it might be withdrawn, ex- 
 pressing great unwillingness to violate the sacred 
 character which had been tacitly conferred upon 
 the piquets; but Soult was deaf to his entreaties, 
 and replied to his threats, only by daring him to 
 carry them into execution. A party was accord- 
 
 5 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 241 
 
 ingly ordered out, one stormy night, to cut off the 
 guard ; and so successful was the attempt, that an 
 officer and thirty sokliers, with a midshipman and 
 a few seamen, who had charge of the boat by which 
 the reliefs were daily ferried over, were taken. Not 
 a shot was fired. The French, trusting to the 
 storm for protection, had called in their videttes, 
 leaving only one on duty at the door of the house, 
 and he found his arms pinioned, and himself secu- 
 red, ere the roar of the tempest had permitted him 
 to detect the sound of approaching steps. The un- 
 fortunate subaltern who commanded, sent in a few 
 days after for his baggage ; but the reply was, that 
 the general would forward to him a halter, as the 
 only indulgence which he merited. 
 
 But to return to my own personal narrative. 
 After the adventure of the tea, nothing particular 
 occurred whilst I continued in charge of the post. 
 As soon as darkness had fairly set in, I proposed, 
 in obedience to my orders, to withdraw ; and I car- 
 ried my design into execution without any moles- 
 tation on the part of the enemy. It was, however, 
 their custom to take possession of the hill as soon 
 as the British troops abandoned it ; and hence I 
 had not proceeded above half way across the ra- 
 vine, when I heard the voices of a French detach- 
 ment, which must have marched into the court- 
 
 L 
 
242 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 yard of the house almost at the very moment when 
 I and my men marched out of it. But they made 
 no attempt to annoy us, and we rejoined the corps 
 from which we had been detached, in perfect 
 safety. 
 
 The next day was spent in a state of rest in the 
 chateau of Arcanques. It is a fine old pile, and 
 stands at the foot of the little eminence on which 
 the church is built. Like many mansions in Eng- 
 land of the date of Queen Elizabeth or Henry 
 VIIL, it is surrounded by a high wall; within 
 which is a paved court, leading up to the main 
 entrance. But it, too, like all the buildings near, 
 bore ample testimony to the merciless operation of 
 war, in its crumbling masonry and blackened tim- 
 bers. There was a grove of venerable old firs round 
 it, from which all the late firing had not entirely 
 expelled a collection of rooks. 
 
 Of the church I have a less perfect recollection 
 than I have of the chateau. I remember, indeed, 
 that its situation was highly striking, and that the 
 view from the churchyard was of no ordinary 
 beauty. I recollect, likewise, several statues of 
 knights and ladies reposing in niches round the 
 walls ; some with the cross upon their sliields, and 
 their legs laid athwart, to show that they had ser- 
 ved in Palestine, or belonged to the order of the 
 Sepulchre ; and others in the more ancient cos- 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 243 
 
 tume of chain armour. But whether they were 
 worthy of admiration, as specimens of the art of 
 sculpture, I cannot now take it upon me to de- 
 clare. I remarked, however, that the devices on 
 the shields of most of these warriors, and the crests 
 upon their helmets, resembled the coat and crest 
 which were emblazoned over the gateway of the 
 chateau ; and hence I concluded that they were 
 the effigies of the former lords of the castle, and 
 that the family which owned it must have been at 
 one period of some consequence. 
 
 It was not, however, in examining these build- 
 ings alone, that I found amusement for my hours 
 of idleness. From the churchyard, as I have al- 
 ready stated, the view is at all times magnificent, 
 and it was rendered doubly so to-day by the move- 
 ments of our army. The tide of war seemed to 
 have taken a sudden turn ; and the numerous corps 
 which had so lately defiled towards the right could 
 now be seen retracing their steps, and deploying 
 towards the left. It was a magnificent spectacle. 
 From the high ground on which I stood I could 
 see very nearly to the two extreme points of the 
 position ; and the effect produced by the marching 
 of nearly 120,000 men, may be more easily ima- 
 gined than described. The roads of communica- 
 tion ran, for the most part, in the rear of Arcan- 
 ques. They were all crowded — cavalry, infantry, 
 
244 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 and artillery, were mo\dng ; some columns march- 
 ing in eschellon, others pausing from time to time, 
 as if to watch some object in their front ; whilst, 
 ever and anon, a grove, or wood, would receive an 
 armed mass into its bosom, and then seem to be on 
 fire, from the flashing of the sun upon the bayo- 
 nets. Happily for me it was a day of bright sun- 
 shine, consequently every object looked to advan- 
 tage ; nor, I suspect, have many of our oldest sol- 
 diers beheld a more striking panorama than the 
 combination of the objects around me this day pro- 
 duced. 
 
 I stood and watched with intense interest the 
 shifting scene, till it gradually settled down into 
 one of quiet. The various brigades, as I afterwards 
 learned, were only returning from the point to- 
 wards which the appearance of danger had hurried 
 them, and now proceeded to establish themselves 
 once more in their cantonments. The French ge- 
 neral, either awed by the state of preparedness in 
 which he found us, or satisfied mth having called 
 us for a few days into the field at this inclement 
 season, laid aside the threatening attitude which 
 he had assumed. It suited not the policy of our 
 gallant leader, to expose his troops wantonly to the 
 miseries of a winter campaign, and hence rest and 
 shelter Avere again the order of the day. But in 
 these the corps to which I was attached had as yet 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 245 
 
 no participation, our march being directed, on the 
 following morning, to the vicinity of Fort Char- 
 lotte, where the charge of the piquets was once 
 more assigned to us. 
 
246 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The transactions of the three clays, from the 8th 
 to the 11th of January, resemhled so completely, 
 in all particulars, the transactions of other days, 
 during which it fell to our lot to keep guard be- 
 side the Mayor's house, that I will not try the pa- 
 tience of my readers by narrating them at length. 
 He will accordingly take it for granted, that the 
 ordinary routine of watching and labour was gone 
 through ; that no attempt was made, on the part 
 of the enemy, to surprise or harass us ; and that, 
 with the exception of a little suffering from ex- 
 treme cold, and the want of a moderate proportion 
 of sleep, we had no cause to complain of our des- 
 tiny. Wlien we first came to our ground, we 
 found the redoubt in a state of considerable for- 
 wardness ; quite defensible, indeed, in case of 
 emergency ; and we left it on the last day of the 
 month mentioned above, even more perfect, and 
 capable of containing at least a thousand men as 
 its garrison. It was not, however, with any feel- 
 ing of regret that we beheld a brigade of guards 
 approaching our encampment, about two hours af- 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 247 
 
 ter noon, on the llth, nor did we experience the 
 slightest humiliation in surrendering to them our 
 tents, our working tools, and the post of honour. 
 
 Now, then, we looked forward, not only with 
 resignation, but with real satisfaction, to a peace- 
 able sojourn of a few weeks at Gauthory. We had 
 never, it is true, greatly admired these canton- 
 ments, but the events of the last eight or ten days 
 had taught us to set its true value upon a settled 
 habitation of any description ; and we accordingly 
 made up our minds to grumble no more. But just 
 as the line of march was beginning to form, intel- 
 ligence reached us, that the place of our abode was 
 changed ; other troops, it appeared, had been pla- 
 ced in our former apartments ; and we were, in 
 consequence, commanded to house ourselves in 
 the village of Bedart. I mean not to assert that the 
 order was received with any degree of dissatisfac- 
 tion ; but feeling as at that moment we did, it was, 
 in truth, a matter of perfect indifference where we 
 were stationed, provided only we had a roof over 
 our heads, and an opportunity was granted of rest- 
 ing from our labours. 
 
 The village of Bedart is built upon an eminence, 
 immediately in rear of the large common on which 
 the advanced brigade lay encamped. It consists of 
 about thirty houses, some of them of a tolerable 
 size, but the majority are cottages. Into one of the 
 
248 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 largest my friend and myself were fortunate enough 
 to be ushered ; and as we found chimneys and 
 windows already formed, the former permitting us 
 to keep fires alight without the attendant misery 
 of smoke, and the latter proof against the weather, 
 we sincerely congratulated ourselves on our change 
 of abode. Nor was it only on account of the su- 
 periority of these over our former quarters, that 
 we rejoiced in this migration. The country around 
 proved to be better stocked with game, especially 
 with hares, than any which we had yet inhabited ; 
 and hence we continued, by the help of our guns 
 and greyhounds, not only to spend the mornings 
 very agreeably, but to keep our own and our 
 friends' tables well supplied. 
 
 I have mentioned, in a former chapter, that the 
 little town of Biaritz stands upon the sea-shore, 
 and that it was, at the period of which I now write, 
 regarded as a sort of neutral ground by the French 
 and English armies. Patrols from both did, in- 
 deed, occasionally reconnoitre it ; the French, in 
 particular, seldom permitting a day to pass with- 
 out a party of their light cavalry riding through 
 it. Yet to visit Biaritz became now the favourite 
 amusement amongst us, and the greater the risk 
 run of being sabred or taken, the more eager were 
 we to incur and to escape it. But there was a 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 249 
 
 cause for this, good reader, and I will tell thee 
 what it was. 
 
 In peaceable times, Biaritz constituted, as we 
 learned from its inhabitants, a fashionable water- 
 ing-place to the wealthy people of Bayonne and its 
 vicinity. It was, and no doubt is, now a remark- 
 ably pretty village, about as large, perhaps, as 
 Sandgate, and built upon the very margin of the 
 water. The town itself lies in a sort of hollow, 
 between two green hills, which, towards the sea, 
 end in broken cliffs. Its houses were neatly white- 
 washed ; and, above all, it was, and I trust still is, 
 distinguished as the residence of two or three hand- 
 some females. These ladies had about them all 
 the gaiety and liveliness of Frenchwomen, with a 
 good deal of the sentimentality of our own fair 
 countrywomen. To us they were particularly plea- 
 sant, professing, I know not how truly, to prefer 
 our society^ to that of any persons besides ; and we, 
 of course, were far too gallant to deny them that 
 gratification, because we risked our lives or our 
 freedom at each visit. By no means. Two or 
 three times in each week the favoured few mount- 
 ed their horses, and took the road to Biaritz, from 
 which, on more than one occasion, they with dif- 
 ficulty returned. 
 
 With the circumstances of one of these escapes 
 I may as well make my reader acquainted. We 
 
 l2 
 
250 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 were, for the most part, prudent enongh to cast 
 lots previous to our setting out, in order to decide 
 on whom, among tlie party, the odious task should 
 devolve of watching outside, to prevent a surprisal 
 by the enemy's cavalry, whilst his companions were 
 more agreeably employed within. So many visits 
 had, however, been paid, without any alarm being 
 given, that one morning, having quitted Bedart 
 fewer in number than usual, we rashly determined 
 to run all risks, rather than that one of the three 
 should spend an hour so cheerlessly. The only 
 precaution which we took was to picket our horses, 
 ready saddled and bridled, at the garden gate, in- 
 stead of putting them up, as we were in the habit 
 of doing, in the stable. 
 
 It was well for us that even this slender precau- 
 tion had been taken. We had sat about half an 
 hour with our fair friends, and had just ceased to 
 joke on the probability of our suffering the fate of 
 Sampson, and being caught by the Philistines, 
 when, on a pause in the conversation taking place, 
 our ears were saluted with the sound of horses' 
 hoofs trampling upon the paved street. We sprang 
 to the window, and our consternation may be 
 guessed at, when we beheld eight or ten French 
 huzzars riding slowly from the lower end of the 
 town. Whilst we were hesitating how to proceed, 
 
 whether to remain quiet, with the hope that the 
 
 4 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 251 
 
 party might retire without searching any of the 
 houses, or expose ourselves to a certain pursuit by 
 flying, we observed a rascal in the garb of a sea- 
 man, run up to the leader of the patrol, and lay 
 hold of his bridle, enter into conversation with him, 
 and point to the abode of our new acquaintances. 
 This was hint enough. Without pausing to say 
 farewell to our fair friends, who screamed, as if 
 they, and not we, had been in danger, we ran with 
 all haste to the spot where our horses stood, and, 
 springing into the saddle, applied the spur with 
 very little mercy to their flanks. We were none 
 of us particularly well mounted ; but either our 
 pursuers had alighted to search the house, or they 
 took at first a wrong direction, for we got so much 
 the start of them before the chase fairly began, 
 that we might have possibly escaped, had we been 
 obliged to trust to our own steeds as far as the 
 piquets. Of this, however, I am by no means cer- 
 tain, for they were unquestionably gaining upon 
 us, as a sailor would say, hand over hand, when, 
 by great good fortune, a patrol of our own caval- 
 ry made its appearance. Then, indeed, the tables 
 were completely turned. The enemy pulled up, 
 paused for an instant, and took to their heels, 
 whilst our troopers, who had trotted forward as 
 soon as they saw what was the matter, put their 
 horses to the speed, and followed. Whether they 
 
252 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 overtook their adversaries, and what was the issue 
 of the skirmish, if indeed any skirmish took place, 
 I cannot tell ; for though we made an attempt to 
 revenge ourselves upon our late pursuers, we soon 
 found that we were distanced by both parties, and 
 were, perforce, contented to ride quietly home, 
 congratulating each other by the way on our hair- 
 breadth deliverance. From that time forward we 
 were more prudent. Our visits were, indeed, re- 
 sumed, and with their usual frequency, but we 
 took care not again to dispense with the watchful- 
 ness of one, who, on the contrary, took his station 
 henceforth on the top of one of the heights, from 
 which he commanded a view of the surrounding 
 country, to the distance of several miles. Though, 
 therefore, we were more than once summoned to 
 horse, because the enemy's dragoons were in sight, 
 we generally contrived to mount in such time, as 
 to preclude the necessity of riding, as we had be- 
 fore ridden, for life or liberty. 
 
 By spending my mornings thus, or in a deter- 
 mined pursuit of game, and my evenings in such 
 society as a corps of gentlemanly young men fur- 
 nished, nearly a fortnight passed over my head be- 
 fore I was aware that time could have made so 
 much progress. It seldom happens, however, that 
 any period of human existence, whether extensive 
 or contracted, passes by without some circumstance 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 253 
 
 occuri'iiig calculated to produce painful sensations. 
 I recollect, in the course of this fortnight, an event, 
 which, though I was no farther concerned in it 
 than as a spectator, made a deep and melancholy 
 impression on my mind. I allude to the loss of a 
 large vessel, during a tremendous storm, on the 
 rocks which run out into the sea off Bedart. 
 
 The precise day of the month on which this sad 
 shipwreck occurred, I have forgotten ; but I recol- 
 lect being sent for by my friend during the pro- 
 gress of one of the heaviest gales which we had 
 witnessed, to come and watch with him the fate of 
 a brig, which was in evident distress, about a cou- 
 ple of miles from the land. The wind blew a per- 
 fect hurricane on shore ; and hence the question 
 was, would the ship succeed in weathering the 
 cape, or would she strike ? If she got once round 
 the headland, then her course to the harbour of 
 Secoa was direct ; if otherwise, nothing could save 
 her. We turned our glasses towards her in a state 
 of feverish anxiety, and beheld her bending under 
 a single close-reefed top-sail, and making lee-way 
 at a feai'ful rate, every moment. Presently a sort 
 of attempt was made to luff up, or tack — it was a 
 desperate one. Great God ! I cannot even now 
 think without shuddering of the consequence. The 
 sail, caught by a sudden squall, was shivered into 
 a hundred shreds; down, down she went, before 
 
254 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 the surge; in five seconds she struck against a 
 reef; and in ten minutes more, split into a thou- 
 sand fragments. One gun only was fired as a sig- 
 nal of distress ; but who could regard it ? We pos- 
 sessed no boats; and had the contrary been the 
 case, this was a sea in which no boat could live. 
 Powerless, therefore, of aid, we could only stand 
 and gaze upon the wreck, till piece by piece it dis- 
 appeared amid the raging of the waters. Not a 
 soul survived to tell to what country she belonged, 
 or with what she was freighted ; and only one 
 body was drifted to land. It was that of a female, 
 apparently about thirty years of age, genteelly 
 dressed, and rather elegantly formed; to whom we 
 gave such sepulture as soldiers can give, and such 
 as they are themselves taught to expect. 
 
 The impression which that slwpwreck made upon 
 me was not only far more distressing, but far more 
 permanent, than the impression made by any other 
 spectacle, of which, during the course of a some- 
 what eventful life, I have been the spectator. For 
 several days I could think of hardly anything be- 
 sides, and at night my dreams were constantly of 
 drowning men, and vessels beating upon rocks ; so 
 great is the effect of desuetude even in painful 
 subjects, and so appalling is death, when he comes 
 in a form in which we are unaccustomed to contem- 
 plate him. Of slaughtered men I have, of course. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 255 
 
 beheld multitudes, as well when life had just de- 
 parted from them, as when corruption had set its 
 seal upon their forms ; but such sights never af- 
 fected me, no, not even at the commencement of 
 my military career, as I was affected by the loss of 
 that ship, though she went to pieces at too great 
 a distance from the beach to permit more than a 
 very indistinct view of her perisliing inmates. Yet 
 there is nothing in reality more terrible in drown- 
 ing than in any other kind of death ; and a sailor 
 will look upon it, I dare say, with precisely the 
 same degree of indifference which a soldier expe- 
 riences, when he contemplates the prospect of his 
 own dissolution by fire or steel. 
 
 In the course of my narrative, I have not made 
 any regular attempt to convey to the mind of the 
 reader a distinct notion of the peculiar costume and 
 language which distinguish the natives of this coun- 
 try. Two motives have guided me in this. In the 
 first place, it is, now-a-days, known to all who are 
 likely to peruse what I write, that the inhabitants 
 of those proA inces, which lie at the immediate base 
 of the Pyrenees, are a race totally distinct, and 
 essentially different in almost all respects, from 
 either the Spaniards or the French. They speak 
 a language of their own, namely Basque, which is 
 said by those who profess to be acquainted witli 
 it, to resemble the Celtic more than any other 
 
256 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 known tongue. The dress of the men consists 
 usually of a blue or brown jacket, of coarse woollen 
 cloth ; of breeches or trowsers of the same, with a 
 waistcoat, frequently of scarlet; grey worsted stock- 
 ings, and wooden shoes. On their heads they wear 
 a large flat bonnet, precisely similar to the Low- 
 land bonnet, or scone, of Scothmd. They are ge- 
 nerally tall, but thin ; and they present altogether 
 an appearance as uncouth as need be fancied. The 
 women, again, equip themselves in many respects 
 as the fish-women of the good town of Newhaven 
 are equipped, with this diff'erence, that they sel- 
 dom cover their heads at all, and, like the men, 
 wear wooden clogs. They are a singular tribe, and 
 appear to take a pride in those peculiarities, which 
 keep them from coalescing with either of the na- 
 tions among whom they dwell. But all this, as I 
 said before, is too generally known, to render it 
 imperative upon me minutely to repeat it. 
 
 My second motive for keeping, in a great degree, 
 silent on the head of manners and customs, is one, 
 the efficiency of which the reader will not, I dare 
 say, call in question ; namely, the want of oppor- 
 tunity to make myself sufficiently master of the 
 subject, to enter, con amove, upon it. No man who 
 journeys through a country, in the train of an in- 
 vading army, ought to pretend to an intimate ac- 
 quaintance with the manners and customs of its 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 257 
 
 inhabitants. Wherever foreign troops swarm, the 
 aborigines necessarily appear in false colours. The 
 greater part of them, indeed, abandon their homes, 
 vi^hilst such of them as remain are servile and sub- 
 missive through terror ; nor do they ever display 
 their real characters, at least in the presence of a 
 stranger. Hence it is, that nine-tenths of my 
 brethren in arms, who write at all, commit tlie 
 most egi'egious blunders in those very portions of 
 their books where they particularly aim at enlight- 
 ening the reading public ; and that the most mat- 
 ter-of-fact tour, spun out by the most matter-of- 
 fact man or woman, who has visited the seat of 
 the late war since the cessation of hostilities, con- 
 tains, and must contain, more certain information 
 touching the fire-side occupations of the people, 
 than all the " Journals " or " Letters to Friends at 
 Home," which this age of book-making has pro- 
 duced. Frankly confessing, therefore, that any ac- 
 count which I could give of the manners and habits 
 of the Basques, would deserve as little^espect as the 
 accounts already given by other military tourists, 
 I am content to keep my reader's attention rivet- 
 ted — if, indeed, that be practicable — upon my own 
 little personal adventures, rather than amuse him 
 with details, which miglit be true, as far as I know 
 to the contrary, but which, in all probability, would 
 be false. 
 
258 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 Proceed we, then, in our own way. From the 
 day of the shipwreck, up to the 23d of the month, 
 I have no recollection of any occurrence worthy to 
 be recorded. Advantage was taken, it is true, of 
 that period of rest, to lay in a fresh stock of tea, 
 and other luxuries, with the means of accomplishing 
 which an opportune disbursement of one month's 
 pay supplied us ; whilst an ample market was es- 
 tablished by certain speculating traders, who fol- 
 lowed the progress of the army from post to post. 
 Secoa was now the grand mart for the procure- 
 ment of necessaries, a considerable fleet of English 
 vessels having entered it ; and hither I and my 
 comrades resorted for the purchase of such articles 
 as habit, or caprice, prompted us to purchase. Then 
 by coursing, shooting, and riding — sometimes to 
 Biaritz, and the house of our pretty Frenchwomen 
 — sometimes to St Jean de Luz, where, by the 
 way, races were regularly established, and occa- 
 sionally to the cantonments of a friend in another 
 division of the army, we found our days steal in- 
 sensibly, and therefore agreeably, away ; nor was 
 it without a feeling somewhat akin to discontent 
 that we saw ourselves again setting forth, to take 
 our turn of outpost duty at the old station beside 
 Fort Charlotte. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 259 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 As the circumstances attending our present tour 
 of duty had in them more of excitation than usual, 
 I shall describe them at greater length. 
 
 The air was cold and bracing ; it was a fine 
 clear wintry day, when the corps to which I was 
 attached, strengthened by the half of another bat- 
 talion, began its march to the front. Instead of 
 employing eighteen hundred men at the outposts, 
 nine hundred were now esteemed capable of pro- 
 viding for the safety of the left column of the 
 army ; and such was accordingly the extent of the 
 force, which, under the command of a lieutenant- 
 colonel, took the direction of the Mayor's house. 
 On arriving there, we found matters in a some- 
 what different order from that in which we were 
 wont to find them. The enemy, it appeared, had 
 abandoned the ground, which, up to the preceding 
 night, their piquets had occupied. Our advanced 
 parties were, in consequence, pushed forward, and 
 the stations of the extreme sentinels were now in 
 front of that ground, upon which so much fight- 
 ing had taken place in the beginning of last month 
 
260 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 The guards themselves, instead of being hutted in 
 and about the chateau, were disposed among a 
 range of cottages, in the very centre of the field of 
 battle ; and the objects which were by this means 
 kept constantly before their eyes, were certainly 
 not of the most cheering or encouraging descrip- 
 tion. 
 
 It fell not to my lot to take charge of a piquet 
 guard on the immediate day of our advance. My 
 business, on the contrary, was to superintend the 
 erection of works, which appeared to me to be 
 erected as much for the purpose of giving the sol- 
 diers employment, and keeping their blood in cir- 
 culation, as to oppose an obstacle to the troops of 
 Marshal Soult, from whom no serious attack was 
 now apprehended. On the following morning, how- 
 ever, I led my party to the front ; nor have I fre- 
 quently spent twenty- four hours in a state of high- 
 er excitement than I experienced during the pro- 
 gress of those which succeeded the movement. 
 
 In the first place, the weather had changed great- 
 ly for the worse. The frost continued, indeed, as 
 intense, perhaps it was more intense than ever ; 
 but the snow came down in huge flakes, which a 
 cold north-east wind drove into our faces. The 
 hut into which the main body of the guard was 
 ushered, presented the same ruinous appearance 
 with almost every other house similarly situated ; 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 261 
 
 it furnished no shelter against the blast, and very 
 little against the shower. Intelligence had, more- 
 over, been conveyed to us by a deserter, that Soult, 
 irritated at the surprisal of his post upon the Nive, 
 had issued orders to retaliate whenever an oppor- 
 tunity might occur ; and it was more than hinted, 
 that one object of the late retrogression from our 
 front, was to draw us beyond our regular line, and 
 so place us in an exposed situation. The utmost 
 caution and circumspection were accordingly en- 
 joined, as the only means of frustrating his de- 
 signs ; and of these the necessity naturally increa- 
 sed as day-light departed. 
 
 That I might not be taken by surprise, in case 
 any attack was made upon me after dark, I devo- 
 ted a good proportion of the day to a minute exa- 
 mination of the country in front, and on each flank 
 of my post. For tins purpose I strolled OA^er the 
 fields, and found them literally strewed with the 
 decaying bodies of what had once been soldiers. 
 The enemy, it was evident, had not taken the trou- 
 ble to bury even their own dead ; for of the car- 
 cases around me, as many, indeed more, were ar- 
 rayed in French than in English uniforms. No 
 doubt they had furnished food for the wolves, kites, 
 and wild-dogs from the thickets ; for the flesh of 
 most of them was torn, and the eyes of almost all 
 were dug out ; yet there was one body, the body 
 
262 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 of a French soldier, quite untouched ; and how it 
 chanced to he so, the reader may judge for him- 
 self, as soon as he has perused the following little 
 story, for the truth of which I solemnly pledge 
 myself. 
 
 Ahout the middle of the line covered hy my chain 
 of sentries, was a small straggling village, contain- 
 ing a single street, ahout twenty cottages, and as 
 many gardens. In the street of that village lay 
 about half-a-dozen carcases, more than half devour- 
 ed by birds and beasts of prey ; whilst in several 
 of the gardens were other little clusters similarly 
 circumstanced. At the bottom of one of these gar- 
 dens a Frenchman lay upon his face, perfectly en- 
 tire, and close beside the body sat a dog. The poor 
 brute, seeing us approach, began to howl in a very 
 melancholy manner, at the same time resisting 
 every effort, not on my part only, but on the part 
 of another officer who accompanied me, to draw 
 him from the spot. We succeeded, indeed, in coax- 
 ing him as far as the upper part of the garden ; 
 for, though large and lank, he was quite gentle ; 
 but he left us there, returned to his post beside the 
 body, and, lifting up his nose into the air, howled 
 piteously. There are few things in my life that I 
 regret more than not having secured that dog ; for 
 it cannot, I think, be doubted, that he was watch- 
 ing beside his dead master, and that he defended 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 263 
 
 him from the teeth and talons which made a prey 
 of all around him. But I had, at the time, other 
 thoughts in my mind ; and circumstances prevent- 
 ed my paying a second visit to the place where I 
 had found him. 
 
 Among other happy results, the more forward 
 position in which the piquets were now placed, 
 furnished me with an opportunity of obtaining a 
 less imperfect ^dew of the city and defences of Bay- 
 onne, than any which I had yet obtained ; I say 
 less imperfect, for even from the tops of the houses 
 in the village above referred to, no very accurate 
 survey could be taken of a place situated upon a 
 sandy flat, and still five or six miles distant ; but 
 I saw enough to confirm me in the idea which I 
 had already formed, that the moment of attack 
 upon these entrenchments, come when it might, 
 could not fail to be a bloody one. 
 
 Day-light was by this time rapidly departing, 
 and it became incumbent upon me to contract the 
 chain of my videttes, and to establish my party a 
 little in the rear of the cottage where we had been 
 hitherto stationed. By acting thus, I contrived to 
 render myself as secure as a detachment numeri- 
 cally so small can ever hope to be. There were 
 two lakes, or rather large ponds, in the line of my 
 position, one on the left of the main road, and the 
 other on the right ; indeed, it was near the oppo- 
 
264 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 site extremity of the last-mentioned lake, that we 
 unexpectedly found ourselves exposed to a charge 
 of cavalry, during the late battle. Of these lakes 
 I gladly took advantage. Planting my people in a 
 large house, about one hundred yards in rear, I 
 formed my sentinels into a curved line, causing the 
 extremities to rest, each upon its own pond, and 
 pushing forward the centre, in the shape of a bow. 
 " Now, then," thought I, " everything must de- 
 pend upon the vigilance of the watchmen ;" and 
 to render that as perfect as possible, I resolved 
 to spend the entire night in passing from the one 
 to the other. Nor did I break that resolution. 
 I may safely say, that I sat not down for five mi- 
 nutes at a time, from sun-set on the 24th till sun- 
 rise on the 25th. 
 
 The snow, which during an hour or two in the 
 afternoon had ceased, began again to fall in in- 
 creased quantities after dark. The wind, too, grew 
 more and more boisterous every moment ; it roar- 
 ed in the woods, and whistled fearfully through 
 the ruined houses ; whilst at every pause I could 
 distinctly hear the wolf's long howl, and the growl 
 and short bark of the wild-dogs, as they quarrel- 
 led over the mangled carcases scattered round me. 
 Near the margin of the right-hand lake, in parti- 
 cular, this horrible din was constantly audible. 
 
 There lay there, apart from each other, about ten 
 
 2 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 263 
 
 bodies, of whom seven wore the fragments of an 
 English uniform, and on these a whole troop of 
 animals from the thickets beyond gorged them- 
 selves. Close beside one of these bodies I had been 
 under the necessity of planting a sentinel ; and the 
 weakness of my party would not permit me to al- 
 low him a companion. He was rather a young 
 man, and had selected the post for himself, in or- 
 der to prove his contempt of superstition ; but he 
 bitterly lamented his temerity, as the situation in 
 which I found him showed. 
 
 I visited his post about half an hour after he had 
 assumed it, that is to say, a little before midnight. 
 He was neither standing nor sitting, but leaning 
 against a tree, and was fairly covered with a coat 
 of frozen snow. His firelock had dropped from his 
 hand, and lay across the chest of the dead man, 
 beside whom he had chosen to place himself. When 
 I spoke to the fellow, and desired to know why he 
 had not challenged as I approached, he made no 
 answer; and, on examining more closely, I found 
 that he was in a swoon. Of course, I dispatched 
 my orderly for a relief, and kept watch myself till 
 he returned ; when, with the assistance of my com- 
 rades, I first dragged the dead body to the lake, 
 into which it was thro\vn, and then removed the 
 insensible but living man to the piquet-house. 
 There several minutes were spent in chafing and 
 
 M 
 
266 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 rubbing him before ho opened his eyes ; but being 
 at length restored to the use of speech, he gave the 
 following account of his adventure. 
 
 He said that the corporal had hardly quitted him, 
 when his ears were assailed with the most dread- 
 ful sounds, such as he was very certain no earthly 
 creature could produce. That he saw through the 
 gloom a whole troop of devils dancing beside the 
 water's edge, and a creature in white came creep- 
 ing towards his post, groaning heavily all the way. 
 He endeavoured to call out to it, but the words 
 stuck in his throat, nor could he utter so much as 
 a cry. Just then he swore that the dead man sat 
 up, and stared him in the face ; after which he had 
 no recollection of anything, till he found himself 
 in the piquet-house. I have no reason to suspect 
 that man of cowardice ; neither, as my reader will 
 easily believe, did I treat his story with any other 
 notice than a hearty laugh ; but in the absolute 
 truth of it he uniformly persisted, and, if he be 
 alive, persists, I dare say, to this hour. 
 
 Besides this adventure with my fool-hardy, and 
 at the same time superstitious follower, nothing 
 occurred during the entire night calculated to stir 
 up any extraordinary sensation in my own mind, 
 or deserving of particular notice at the distance of 
 nearly twelve years. As I have already mentioned, 
 I took care to visit the sentinels so frequently, that 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 267 
 
 every danger of surprisal was effectually averted. 
 That these constant perambulations would have 
 been undertaken as a matter of choice, I by no 
 means pretend to say ; for it was a night of storm 
 and of intense cold : but I felt my situation to be 
 a critical one, and, feeling so, I should have been 
 less at ease by the side of a comfortable fire than I 
 was whilst forcing my way against the wind and 
 snow. Nor had I any reason to find fault with the 
 conduct of my men. They had been warned of 
 their danger in good time, and were now thorough- 
 ly on the alert to avert it; and thence I found each 
 sentry more watchful than his neighbour — in other 
 words, one and all of them completely on the qui 
 Vive, 
 
 I recollect, indeed, on one occasion, being put 
 a little upon my mettle. It was about two in the 
 morning, when I was informed by a soldier, who 
 kept watch at the extremity of the hamlet already 
 described, that he had heard within tlie last ten 
 minutes a more than usual noise, in a large house 
 about a hundred and fifty yards in front of his post. 
 He described it to me as if people were tearing up 
 the boards, or thumping down heavy weights upon 
 the floor ; and he himself seemed to think, that a 
 body of the enemy's infantry had newly arrived, 
 and had established themselves within the build- 
 ing. I listened attentively, in order to catch any 
 
268 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 sound which might proceed from that quarter, but 
 none reached me. He persisted, however, in his 
 story, and added, that if the noise which he had 
 heard proceeded not from men, it must come from 
 spirits. " And why not from dogs or wolves ?" 
 said I. " Because dogs and wolves cannot split 
 wood," said he ; " and I will swear, that if ever I 
 heard planks torn asunder, I heard it now." Be- 
 ing little inclined to leave the matter in doubt, I 
 remained with the sentinel, and dispatched my or- 
 derly to bring up half a dozen men for the pur}X)se 
 of making a recognizance. 
 
 The reader has probably anticipated that I found 
 the house empty. It was so ; for after stealing 
 through the street vvith the utmost caution, stop- 
 ping every two minutes, and applying my ear to 
 the ground in order to catch tlie slightest noise, — 
 after peeping over the garden- wall, listening at 
 the entrance, and creeping up the front steps with 
 the pace of a burglar, — I found that the chateau 
 was wholly tenantless ; and what was more, that 
 not a trace of its having been recently visited, at 
 least by human tenants, could be discovered. Ne- 
 vertheless, I commended the soldier for his wat€h- 
 fulness, advised him to continue equally watchful 
 as long as he should remain on duty; and leaving 
 it to himself to decide whether the sounds which 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 269 
 
 he liad reported proceeded from gliosis or more 
 tangible creatm*es, I quitted him. 
 
 It may not be amiss if I state here, what I have 
 already more than hinted, that on all these occa- 
 sions I was accompanied by a little spaniel bitch. 
 I had brought the creature with me from England, 
 when she was a puppy of only nine months old, 
 and she became attached to me in a degree such as 
 would not in all probability have been the case, had 
 my mode of life been more settled, and she in con- 
 sequence less my companion. Nor was it only be- 
 cause I was fond of the animal that I taught her 
 to follow my fortunes thus closely. A well-train- 
 ed dog is no bad help-mate to an officer who has 
 charge of an out-post ; indeed, I was never greatly 
 alarmed, notwithstanding the communications of 
 my videttes, unless my little four-footed patrol 
 confirmed their statements. If she barked or growl- 
 ed, then I felt assured that something dangerous 
 was near ; if she continued quiet, I was compara- 
 tively easy. To that dog, indeed, I owe my life ; 
 but the circumstance under which she preserved it 
 occurred in a different quarter of the world, and 
 has no right to be introduced into my present nar- 
 rative. 
 
 In this manner was the night of the 24th of 
 January spent. About an hour before day-break 
 on the 25th I mustered my piquet, according to 
 
270 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 custom, and kept them standing under arms, in 
 front of the house, till dawn appeared. This mea- 
 sure was necessary, not only because it is a stand- 
 ing order in the British army for advanced corps 
 to get under arms thus early, but because experi- 
 ence has proved that the first of the morning is the 
 favourite moment of attack, inasmuch as, by com- 
 mencing hostilities at that young hour of the day, 
 good hopes are held out of effecting something de- 
 cisive before the day shall have ended. On the pre- 
 sent occasion, however, no attack was made ; and 
 hence, after waiting the usual time, I prepared again 
 to shift my ground, and to take post at the more 
 advanced station which I held yesterday, and which 
 I had evacuated solely for the purpose of making 
 myself less insecure during the hours of darkness. 
 We had returned to our day-light position about 
 a quarter of an hour, when a patrol of light ca- 
 valry arrived, and proposed to plant a vidette upon 
 the top of an eminence, about a mile in our front. 
 The person who commanded the party appeared, 
 however, to be a little in doubt as to the practica- 
 bility of performing the orders which he had re- 
 ceived. He said, that the enemy were not willing 
 to allow that height to be occupied by us ; that the 
 last relief which had attempted to establish itself 
 there was driven off, and that he was not without 
 apprehension of an ambuscade, and of being taken, 
 
CtlAPTER XVIII. 2T1 
 
 witli his whole party ; in a word, he begged that I 
 would allow a portion of my men to follow him, 
 and that I would support him in case he should be 
 attacked either by infantry or cavalry. 
 
 To say the truth, I was a good deal puzzled how 
 to act, for nothing had been communicated to me 
 on the subject ; nevertheless, I determined to lend 
 as much assistance as I could spare, and accord- 
 ingly commanded about a dozen men to follow the 
 dragoons. Not deeming it right, however, to in- 
 trust a detachment of my own people entirely to 
 the charge of a stranger, I resolved to accompany 
 them, and, perhaps, it was well I did. 
 
 We were yet a half musket-shot from the hill 
 which the cavalry were desired to occupy, when 
 we observed a superior force of French dragoons 
 advancing from the lines towards the same point. 
 The push now was for the high ground. We foot- 
 soldiers could not of course keep pace with our 
 mounted comrades, but we followed them at dou- 
 ble quick time, and arrived at the base just as they 
 had crowned the height. They were hardly there, 
 however, when a discordant shout, or rather yell, 
 told us that the French were ascending by the op- 
 posite side. Our dragoons, I observed, instantly 
 formed line ; they discharged their pistols, and 
 made a show of charging ; but whetlier it was that 
 the enemy's numbers overawed them, or that their 
 
272 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 horses took fright at the report, I cannot tell, but 
 before the caps of their opponents were visible to 
 our eyes, their order was lost, and themselves in 
 full retreat. Down they came, both parties, at full 
 speed ; and now it was our turn to act. I had al- 
 ready placed my men behind a turf fence, with 
 strict orders not to fire till I should command 
 them. It was in vain that I stood upon the top of 
 the wall, and shouted and waved to the fugitives 
 to take a direction to the right or left. They rode 
 directly towards the ditch, as if their object had 
 been to trample us under foot ; and, what was still 
 more alarming, the enemy were close behind them. 
 In self-defence, I was therefore obliged to give the 
 pre-concerted signal. My people fired, — one of our 
 own, and three of the French dragoons dropped. 
 The latter, apparently astonished at the unlooked- 
 for discharge, pulled up. " Now, now," cried we, 
 " charge, charge, and redeem your honour !" The. 
 dragoons did so, and we rising at the same instant 
 with loud shouts, the enemy were completely rout- 
 ed. Two of their troopers were taken, and of all 
 who escaped, hardly one escaped without a wound. 
 After this trifling skirmish, the French no longer 
 disputed with us the possession of the hill. Leaving 
 the cavalry, therefore, to maintain it, I fell back 
 with my men to the piquet-house, and, about an 
 hour after my return, was by no means displeased 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 273 
 
 to find another party arrive to relieve us. Having 
 given to the officer in command of that party as 
 much information as I myself possessed, I called 
 in my sentries, and marched to the rear. 
 
 M 2 
 
2T4f THE SUBy\LTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Froim the 26th of January up to the 20th of the 
 following" month, nothing occurred either to my- 
 self individually, or to the portion of the army of 
 which I was a member, particularly deserving of 
 notice. During that interval, indeed, a fresh sup- 
 ply of wearing-apparel, of flannels, stockings, and 
 shoes, reached me, being a present from kind 
 friends at home ; and sekloni has any present pro- 
 ved more acceptable, or arrived more opportunely ; 
 })ut the reader is not, I dare say, over anxious to 
 know whether the articles in question were too 
 large, too small, or whether they fitted to an hair's 
 breadth. Neither would it greatly amuse him were 
 I to detail at length how ships freighted with corn 
 reached Secoa ; how fatigue-parties were ordered 
 out to unload them ; and how the loads, being just- 
 ly divided, were issued as forage for the horses, 
 Avhich stood much in need of it. It may, however, 
 be worth while to state, that previous to the arri- 
 val of these corn-ships, even the cavalry and artil- 
 lery were under the necessity of feeding their 
 horses chiefly upon chopped furze, and hence that 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 275 
 
 disease had begun to make rapid progress among 
 them, many dying ahnost every day, and all, even 
 the most healthy, falling rapidly out of condition. 
 But for this providential supply of wholesome oats 
 and barley, I question whether Ave should have been 
 able to take the field, at least effectively, till later 
 in the season. 
 
 On the 16th of February, 1814, the allied troops 
 may be said to have fairly broken up from their 
 winter quarters. The corps to which I belonged 
 continued, indeed, under cover till the morning of 
 the 21st ; but we were already, in a great measure, 
 at our posts ; seeing that our cantonments lay im- 
 mediately in rear of the piquets. Such divisions as 
 had been quartered in and about St Jean de Luz 
 began, however, to move towards the front on the 
 16th, and pitching their tents on the crest of the 
 position, they waited quietly till their leader should 
 see fit to command a farther advance. On these 
 occasions, no part of the spectacle is more impo- 
 sing than the march of the artillery. Of this species 
 of force, six, sometimes eight pieces, form a bri- 
 gade, each gun is dragged by six or eight horses ; 
 by six, if the brigade be intended to act with in- 
 fantry, by eight, if it belong to what is called the 
 Hying artillery. In the former case, eight gunners 
 march on foot beside each field-piece, whilst three 
 drivers ride a la postilion ; in the latter, the gun- 
 
276 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 ners are all mounted and accoutred like yeomaniy 
 cavalry. Then the tumbrils and ammunition-wag- 
 gons, with their train of horses and attendants, fol- 
 low in rear of the guns, and the whole procession 
 covers perhaps as much ground as is covered by 
 two moderately strong battalions in marching or- 
 der. 
 
 The greater part of the infantry attached to the 
 left column had passed, when brigade after brigade 
 of guns wound through our village. These halting 
 just after they had cleared the street, diverged into 
 some open fields on the right and left of the road, 
 where the whole park, amounting to perhaps thirty 
 pieces, was established. In another green field at 
 the opposite side of Bedart, four heavy eighteen- 
 pounders took their station, to be in readiness, in 
 case of need, to be transported to Fort Charlotte. 
 Last of all came the cavalry, consisting of the 12th 
 and 16th light dragoons, and of two regiments of 
 heavy Germans; nor could we avoid remarking, 
 that though the 12th and 16th dragoons are both of 
 them distinguished corps, the horses of the foreign- 
 ers were, nevertheless, in far better order than those 
 of our countrymen. The fact, I believe, is, that an 
 Englishman, greatly as he piques himself on his 
 skill in farriery, never acquires that attachment for 
 his horse which a German trooper experiences. 
 The latter dreams not, under any circumstances. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 277 
 
 of attending" to his own comfort till after lie has 
 provided for the comfort of his steed. He will fre- 
 quently sleep heside it, through choice, and the 
 nohle animal seldom fails to return the affection of 
 his master, whose voice he knows, and whom he 
 will generally follow like a dog. 
 
 There was another striking difference in the two 
 brigades of cavalry which I remarked. The Eiiglisli 
 rode on, many of them silent, some chatting of a 
 thousand things, others whistling or humming 
 those tuneless airs in which the lower orders of 
 our countrymen delight. The Germans, on tltc 
 contrary, sang, and sang beautifully, a wild chorus 
 — a hymn, as I afterwards learned, to the Virgin, 
 different persons taking different parts, and pro- 
 ducing altogether the most exquisite harmony. So 
 great an impression did this music make upon me, 
 that I caught the air, and would note it down for 
 the benefit of my reader, were I sufficiently master 
 of the art of notation ; but as this happens not to 
 \ye the case, he must wait till we become personally 
 acquainted, when I promise to phiy it for him, in 
 my very best style, upon the flute. 
 
 Nor was it only on the left that warlike move- 
 ments occurred. The whole army took the field ; 
 and that a serious campaign was already com- 
 menced, the sound of firing at the extreme end of 
 the line gave notice. I had wandered abroad with 
 
278 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 my gun on tlie morning of tlie ISth, not indeed 
 venturing to proceed far from home, bat trying the 
 neighbouring copses for a hare or Avoodcock, when 
 my farther progress was arrested by the report of 
 several cannons in the direction of Lord Hill's di- 
 vision. These were succeeded by a rapid but short 
 discharge of musketry, and my sport was imme- 
 diately abandoned ; but I found on my return that 
 no alarm was excited, and that every description 
 of force which I had left in a state of inaction con- 
 tinued still inactive. 
 
 The same degree of suspense prevailed amongst 
 us during the 19th and 20th. On the latter of these 
 days my mind, at least, v/as kept employed by a 
 journey to the harbour, for the purpose of bringing 
 up a fresh supply of corn for the horses ; though 
 it was a species of employment with which I would 
 have readily dispensed, inasmuch as the day chan- 
 ced to be particularly cold, with snow. But our 
 anxiety was destined not to be of long continuance ; 
 an order reaching us that night, at a late hour, to 
 be accoutred and in line of march by three o'clock 
 in the following morning. Now then, at length, 
 we applied ourselves to the task of packing the 
 baggage. The tents were once more summoned 
 into use ; their condition closely examined ; such 
 rents as appeared in the canvass were hastily re- 
 paired, and every deficiency in pegs and strings 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 279 
 
 made good. Tlien tlie ordinary supply o^ provend, 
 as Major Dalgetty would call it, being put up, we 
 threw ourselves down in our clothing, and fell 
 asleep. 
 
 It was still dark as pitch, when tlic well-known 
 sound of troo})s hurrying to their stations roused 
 me from my slumber. As I had little to do in the 
 way of accoutring, except to buckle on my sabre, 
 and to stick my pistols in a black leathern haver- 
 sack, which on such occasions usually hung at my 
 back, abundance of time was given for the con- 
 sumption of as much breakfast as at that early hour 
 I felt disposed to consume ; after which I took post 
 beside my men. The reader will h.'ive doubtless 
 noted, that, like the good soldier already named, 
 I never set out upon any military expedition, with- 
 out having, in the first place, laid in a foundation 
 of stamina to work upon. And here I would re- 
 commend to all young warriors, who may be ga- 
 thering laurels when nothing of me shall remain 
 except these INIemoirs, invariably to follow my ex- 
 ample. They may rely upon it, that an empty sto- 
 mach, so far from being a provocative, is a serious 
 antidote to valour ; and that a man who has eaten 
 nothing previous to either an advance or a retreat, 
 runs no little risk of finding his strength fail at the 
 Aery moment when its continuance is of vital im- 
 
280 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 portance to him. No, no ; your liot-brained youth, 
 who is too impatient to eat, is like your over-an- 
 xious hunter, which refuses its corn because tlie 
 hounds pass the stable. Neither the one nor the 
 other will go through a hard day's work. 
 
 The troops being formed in marching order, the 
 word was given, and we advanced' in the direction, 
 now so familiar to us, of the Mayor's house. As 
 we passed the park of artillery, we heard, rather 
 than saw the drivers limbering up, and prepara- 
 tions busily making for service. The tramp of 
 many feet, too, could be discerned, as well as the 
 clattering of horses' hoofs, the jingling of steel 
 scabbards, and the rattle of canteens and cartouch- 
 boxes ; but it was not till these various sounds had 
 been faint and distant that day-light began to break 
 upon us. We had, however, been conscious of 
 having struck into a sort of by-lane, and of having 
 jyroceeded for some time in a direction towards the 
 right ; and hence, when objects became visible, we 
 were not surprised to find that we had passed even 
 the village of Arcanques ; and that all the country 
 hitherto traversed by us, was left behind. As may 
 be guessed, this circumstance alone excited plea- 
 surable feelings ; for we were weary of the eter- 
 nal Mayor's house and Fort Charlotte, and anxious 
 to reach some other field on which to prove our 
 courage. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 281 
 
 Tlie point towards wliicli our steps were turned, 
 was a lofty eminence, distant about a quarter of a 
 mile from tlic banks of the Nivc, and command- 
 ing an extensive view of a country extremely beau- 
 tiful. The height had been occupied during the 
 preceding day by a part of the 5th division, which 
 now resigned the charge to us, and descending in- 
 to the plain, crossed the river, and pushed off in 
 a direction to the right. For ourselves, we were 
 commanded to halt here ; and as neither the t^nts 
 nor baggage had arrived — as indeed we soon learn- 
 ed that they were not to follow — we sedulously set 
 about lighting fires, and prepared to bivouack. 
 These were, however, as yet early days for bivou- 
 acking; and hence arrangements were made for 
 getting us under cover during the night ; in ac- 
 cordance with which, we descended soon after sun- 
 set to a large chateau, close l>eside the advance^l 
 sentries, where ample accommodation was found 
 for all of us. There the night was passed, not 
 altogether free from apprehension, seeing that no 
 piquets — only a chain of sentinels, were between 
 us and the enemy — but as everything remainwl 
 quiet, without any attempt being made to molest 
 us, no evil consequences resulted from the adop- 
 tion of a plan, agreeable enough, it is true, but sa- 
 vouring perhaps of rasluiess, rather than excess of 
 caution. 
 
282 THE SUBALTERN'. 
 
 As soon as the morrow's early parade was dis- 
 missed, and I perceived that no indication was 
 given of further movements, I took my gun, and 
 set off to the woods, where I hoped to find game 
 enough to furnish out a comfortable repast in the 
 evening. Nor was I disappointed. Hares and 
 woodcocks abounded here ; there were moreover 
 numerous flocks of golden plover ; and of these I 
 contrived to bring home a sufficient number to sa- 
 tisfy my own wants, and the wants of others. But 
 it was not alone because I chanced to be particu- 
 larly successful in shooting, that the day's excur- 
 sion gave me pleasure. The country around was 
 more romantic and striking than any which I had 
 yet seen, and came nearer to a realization of my 
 previous notions respecting the scenery in the 
 south of France, of what it really was, or rather 
 what it ought to be. All was hill and dale, sweep- 
 ing groves and green meadows, with here and there 
 a vineyard, already beginning to give signs of 
 vegetation, and to put forth its delicate fibres, like 
 our hop plant in the month of May. The proxi- 
 mity of the Nive, too, added not a little to the 
 beauty of the prospect, as it flowed gently and quiet- 
 ly on, winding for a while between sloping grass- 
 fields, and then eluding the eye amid the thick 
 groves which overhung its banks. It would have 
 been altogether as sweet and pastoral a landscape 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 283 
 
 as the imagination can very well picture, but for 
 the remote view of the entrenched camp, whicli 
 from various points might be obtained, and the 
 nearer glimpse of numerous watch-fires, round 
 which groups of armed men were swarming. To 
 me, however, these were precisely the most inte- 
 resting objects in the panorama, and those upon 
 which I chiefly deliglitcd to fix my attention. 
 
 The game wliich the sporting members of the 
 corps contrived this day to pick up was so abun- 
 . dant, that Ave resolved to admit the whole of our 
 brother officers to a participation in it, and to spend 
 an evening together after the fashion of an even- 
 ing at home. For this purpose, all the culinary 
 utensils within reach were put in requisition, and 
 all the individuals skilled in the gastronomic art 
 were invited to give proof of their abilities. Beef 
 — lean beef — that everlasting and insipid food of 
 soldiers — was disguised in every imaginable form, 
 whilst hares were melted down into soup, wood- 
 cocks stewed, golden plovers roasted, and sundry 
 rabbits curried. In a word, we sat down, in num- 
 ber about five-and-twenty, at six o'clock, to a din- 
 ner which would have done no discredit, in point 
 of cookery, to the favourite disciple of Dr Kitch- 
 ener, and which even Sir William Curtis himself 
 would not have deemed unworthy of his notice. 
 
284 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 Good cheer, moreover, is generally the parent of 
 good-humour, and good-humour is the source of 
 Ijcnevolence ; nor would it be easy to point out in 
 tliis selfish world of ours, five-and-twenty persons 
 whose hearts overflow more richly with the milk 
 of human kindness, than did ours, as we took our 
 seats by the well-filled board. Fervently did we 
 wish that every corps in the British army, ay, and 
 in the French army too, could that day fare as 
 well ; whilst we proceeded to prove, in the most 
 satisfactory of all manners, that delicate viands 
 were not thrown away, at least upon us. 
 
 These praise-worthy expressions had hardly 
 ceased, and we had just begun to pay our addresses 
 to the well-boiled soup, when the tread of horses' 
 hoofs attracted our notice. It would have been a po- 
 sitive sin had the enemy come on at such a moment 
 a« this ; and I verily believe, that we in our wrath 
 would have given him no quarter. Nevertheless, 
 sins are daily committed ; nor were we by any 
 means at ease, touching this important matter, till 
 the cause of the alarm appeared. It was a wounded 
 officer who had been shot in a skirmish this morn- 
 ing, and was now slowly travelling to the rear, 
 being with difficulty held on his horse by a couple 
 of attendants. Our dinner was instantly aban- 
 doned, and we all ran to offer such assistance as it 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 285 
 
 lay in our power to offer. But the poor fellow was 
 too seriously hurt to accept of our invitations to 
 eat. The surgeon accordingly took him in charge, 
 and having am])utated the arm which one ball had 
 broken, and striven in vain to extract another from 
 his side, he left him to the care of his servant. The 
 man was dead before morning. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the chilling effect of 
 this adventure upon all of us. Steeled, as men 
 necessarily become, in a continued state of warfare, 
 against the milder and more gentle feelings of our 
 nature, they must be hardened indeed, if they can 
 Ixihold a dying fellow-creature arrive among them, 
 in an hour of jollity and mirth, without view- 
 ing the contrast in so strong a light as to damp, 
 if it be unable utterly to destroy, their hilarity. 
 For our own parts, we returned, indeed, to table, 
 and we chatted, or rather endeavoured to chat, 
 as if no such guest had come among us. But it 
 would not do. Our party, which we had designe^l 
 to keep together till dawn, broke up soon after ten 
 o'clock, and we lay down to sleep with minds more 
 full of our suffering brother-in-arms, than of our 
 jo^^alty. 
 
 The wounded officer belonged to a regiment of 
 the fifth division. He had acted, with a small 
 party, as one of the flank patrol, during an oblique 
 movement of his brigade, along the front of the 
 
286 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 enemy's line, and falling in with a body of their 
 skirmishers, had been wounded in a wood, where 
 the rapid advance of the column left him. His ser- 
 vant and another man, having procured a horse 
 from one of his friends, returned to his assistance. 
 But before they could discover him the division 
 was too far on its way to be overtaken, conse- 
 quently they took with him a direction to the rear, 
 which brought them to our house. He had recei- 
 ved his wounds at an early hour in the day, and 
 had been preserved from bleeding to death only 
 by the cold ; but the long period which elapsed ere 
 his hurts could be dressed, rendered them doubly 
 severe. Our surgeon, indeed, assured us, that no 
 care, however speedily bestowed, could have saved 
 him ; and therefore it was perhaps as well that the 
 absence of medical assistance shortened his misery, 
 by protecting him from the torture necessarily at- 
 tendant upon useless dressings. 
 
 We had jast begun to drop into a forgetfulness 
 of all causes, both of joy and sorrow, when a dra- 
 goon arrived with orders for the commanding offi- 
 cer, by which it appeared that we were to be un- 
 der arms at three o'clock next morning, and to fol- 
 low where the bearer — a soldier of the corps of 
 guides — should lead. Something, too, was whis- 
 pered about a general attack upon the enemy's 
 lines; of passing the Adour, and investing Bay onne; 
 
 8 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 287 
 
 l)ut these were mere surmises, naturally following 
 upon such vague directions. For myself, I permitted 
 them not to occupy much of my attention, or to 
 keep their places long in my mind ; but pliiloso- 
 phically concluding that I had no choice submit- 
 ted to me, and that I must go wherever I should 
 be sent, and act exactly as I should be desired to 
 act, I once more threw myself on the floor, and 
 closed my eyes. Sleep was not long a stranger to 
 my eyelids. 
 
288 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Of tlie appearance of the country through which 
 we marched, on the morning of the 23d of Febru- 
 ary, I can say but little, the greater part of the 
 journey having been performed in the dark. When 
 day dawned, however, we perceived that we ha/d 
 l>een defiling by a new road towards the left ; and 
 at eight o'clock we found ourselves in a green field, 
 about a musket-shot from the high-road, and within 
 three miles of the works in front of Bayonne. At 
 the other end of the field was a piquet of the enemy, 
 which instantly turned out, and lined the ditches, 
 whilst we contented ourselves with forming into 
 column ; and then piling our arms, we stood still 
 till farther instructions should arrive. In the mean- 
 while, I was not unemployed. By the help of my 
 telescope I took as accurate a survey of the stu- 
 pendous fortifications before me as circumstances 
 would permit, and the following is, as nearly as I 
 recollect, the aspect which they presented : — 
 
 The position which Marshal Soult had taken up, 
 and which has long been justly regarded as one 
 of the most formidable positions in the south of 
 
 2 
 
CHAPTER XX. 289 
 
 France, ran parallel, or nearly parallel, for about 
 four miles, with the Adour. Its right rested upon 
 the strong and extensive fortifications of Bayonne, 
 its left upon the small river Joyeuse, and the for- 
 midable post of Hilletre. Wlien I state this as 
 being the position of Marshal Soult's army, I mean 
 to say, that such was the line which that army 
 occupied, previous to the renewal of hostilities on 
 our part. Towards his right no change bad, in- 
 deed, taken place ; but on his left he had been dri- 
 ven back, first from Hilletre upon St Martin, and 
 then through St Palais, as far as the village of 
 Arriverente. From this again he was dislodged 
 on the 17th by the 92d regiment, under the com- 
 mand of Colonel Cameron ; till, finally falling back 
 from post to post, the strength of his forces became 
 di'S'ided ; the entrenched camp near St Jean Pied 
 de Pont was abandoned, and Soult, after defend- 
 ing as long as they were defensible, his strong- 
 holds, principally at Hastingues and Oyergave, re- 
 tired with his extreme left within the tete-du-pont 
 at Payrchourade. When I glanced my eye, there- 
 fore, along the entrenchments this morning, I was 
 able to take in only so much of the formidable line 
 as extended from the city to the hamlet of Ville- 
 nueve, on the Gave d'Oleron ; and of the last- 
 mentioned of these places I obtained a view so in- 
 
 N 
 
290 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 distinct, that had I not previously known that it 
 formed one key of the position, I should not have 
 been aware of its vast importance. 
 
 It is not my design to attempt an accurate de- 
 tail of the eventful operations of this and the fol- 
 lowing day. On the left of the centre, (the point 
 where I chanced to be stationed,) comparatively 
 little fighting took place. We made, indeed, from 
 time to time, demonstrations of attack, drove in a 
 few piquets, and ever and anon sent out a body of 
 skirmishers, just by way of keeping the attention 
 of the enemy awake ; but it was on the right of 
 our line that the most important proceedings oc- 
 ciuTed. Lord Wellington's plan was to cut off the 
 army of Soult entirely from Bayonne, and to draw 
 him, if possible, from the works which he had 
 thrown up ; and in the execution of that plan, he 
 was as successful as he generally proved to be in 
 all his schemes. Whilst, therefore, we were thus 
 amusing ourselves on the heights above Bayonne, 
 Sir Rowland Hill, with the light, the second, and 
 a Portuguese division, passed the Gave d'Oleron 
 at Villenueve ; Sir Henry Clinton crossed, at the 
 head of the sixth division, between Montfort and 
 Laas ; and Sir Thomas Picton, with his own fa- 
 vourite third division, threatened the bridge of 
 Sauveterre, and obliged the enemy to blow it up. 
 The effect of these numerous attacks was to break 
 
CHAPTER XX. 291 
 
 the line which Soult had formed, in no less than 
 three points, and to oblige him to draw off the 
 main body of his army from his entrenched camp, 
 and to establish himself on the heights above Or- 
 thes. 
 
 In the meanwliile, the first division, on the ex- 
 treme left, was not inactive. It formed a part, 
 and a prominent part, in this stupendous plan of 
 operations, to take possession of both banks of the 
 Adour, as well below as above the city; and to 
 place Bayonne in a state of blockade, at the very 
 moment when the army which covered it should 
 be driven from its position. To render that scheme 
 effectual, it was necessary to push a detachment of 
 infantry across the Adour on rafts, for the pur- 
 pose of protecting the formation of a bridge, which 
 Lord Wellington had resolved to erect. This was 
 effected at a part three miles from the sea, where 
 the river is full eight hundred yards wide ; and so 
 little was the movement anticipated, that six hun- 
 dred men, under the command of Major-General 
 Stopford, were actually ferried over before the ene- 
 my exhibited any symptom of alarm or of consci- 
 ousness that an attempt of the kind had been 
 made. 
 
 The bridge itself was destined to be composed 
 of small vessels, decked boats, and chasse marees, 
 placed at the distance of twenty or thirty yards 
 
292 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 from one another, and connected by strong cables 
 and deals laid transversely across. The vessels 
 had, indeed, been collecting in the harbour of Se- 
 coa during the last ten days ; and now only wait- 
 ed for a favourable breeze to effect their entrance 
 into the Adour. Nor is that an easy matter, even 
 for a vessel of forty or fifty tuns burthen. At the 
 mouth of the Adour is a bar or bank of sand, 
 quite impassable at low water ; which, even at or- 
 dinary full tides, is so little covered, that nothing 
 larger than a large fishing-boat can float. During 
 the season of spring- tides, I believe ships of a con- 
 siderable size may enter ; but nothing approxima- 
 ting to a ship can hope to cross at any other sea- 
 son. 
 
 When the army broke up from winter quar- 
 ters, it was not the season of sp,ring-tide ; neither 
 could military operations be delayed till that sea- 
 son should arrive. It was accordingly determined 
 by Rear-Admiral Penrose, who commanded the 
 squadron cruising off the coast, to force his way 
 up the stream at all hazards, as soon as a breeze 
 should spring up ; and the command of the boats 
 dedicated to this perilous service was intrusted 
 to a gallant officer from the sister isle, by name 
 O'Reily. No man could be better cut out for such 
 an enterprize. Brave, impetuous, perhaps some- 
 what rash, Captain O'Reily was not a little galled 
 
CHAPTER XX. 293 
 
 when he found his progress delayed, during tlie 
 whole of the 23d, by a dead calm ; but he was not 
 therefore useless. Perceiving that nothing could 
 be done on his own element, he came to land, and 
 was not a little serviceable in constructing the 
 rafts, and putting the soldiers in proper order for 
 crossing. 
 
 It was about ten in the morning, when the posts 
 which the enemy occupied in and near Anglette, 
 as well as among the sand hills on the left banks 
 of the Adour, being carried. General Stopford's 
 little corps began to pass the river. To facilitate 
 this operation, or rather to hinder the enemy from 
 observing it at all, our brigade, which had hitherto 
 remained idle upon the brow of the identical ri- 
 ■sing ground, where, after the action of the 9th of 
 the preceding November, we had halted, was di- 
 rected to execute various mana?uvres. We first 
 deployed into line, then extended our files into 
 skirmishing order ; next threw out half a dozen 
 companies, who rushed forward at double quick 
 time, and with loud shouts, as if an assault were 
 seriously intended. Nor were our movements un- 
 noticed. In less than five minutes, several bat- 
 teries and breast-works in our immediate front, 
 which had previously remained almost empty of 
 defenders, were crowded with soldiers, whilst three 
 pieces of light artillery came galloping from the 
 
294 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 right, and took post in a field, across which our 
 route, had we pursued it, must have lain. 
 
 To meet the detached companies, a body of tir- 
 railleurs advanced, and a very entertaining' skir- 
 mish began. For myself, I was, during the entire 
 day, in a place of perfect safety ; out of reach even 
 of the light cannon, which were turned against us ; 
 and hence I had every opportunity of observing, 
 with an easy mind, the progress of those about me. 
 Immediately on our left was a division of Spanish 
 infantry, which, occupying the village of Anglette, 
 kept up the communication between us and the 
 guards. On our right again was a Portuguese 
 corps ; and it is curious enough, that whilst the 
 French were satisfied with watching us, and of 
 giving proof that they were determined to opposo 
 any attack on our partj they made several spirited 
 assaults upon our allies. By the Portuguese they 
 were met with as much gallantry, and in as good 
 order, as they would have been met by ourselves ; 
 towards the close of the war, indeed, the Portu- 
 guese infantry were inferior to none in the world. 
 From the Spaniards, on the contrary, they re- 
 ceived no very determined opposition ; and but for 
 the sight of our column on one side, and of a co- 
 lumn of guards and of the German legion on the 
 other, they would have made there, in all proba- 
 bility, a breach in the line. As it was, they con- 
 
CHAPTER XX. 295 
 
 tented themselves witli driving the troops before 
 them, ever and anon, from tlie village ; and then 
 fell back, as soon as they found themselves in 
 danger of being taken in flank, by us, or the Ger- 
 mans. 
 
 It was a positive relief to avert my eyes from 
 the operations of the Spanish corps, and to turn 
 them towards the Portuguese. The latter consist- 
 ed of three battalions of ca9adores, and two of 
 heavy infantry ; of which the ca9adores alone could, 
 in strict propriety, be said to be engaged. Cover- 
 ing the front of the others, and communicating 
 with our skirmishers, they spread themselves in 
 extended order over the fields, and kept up a steady, 
 cool, and well-directed fire, upon the cloud of tir- 
 railleurs which vainly endeavoured to drive them 
 back upon the reserve. In looking at such a scene 
 as this, you generally fix your eye upon one or two 
 individuals, whose progress you watch so long, 
 that you become at last as much interested in their 
 safety, as if they were personal acquaintances of 
 your own. I recollect that one Portuguese soldier, 
 in particular, attracted my notice that day. He 
 seemed, if I might judge from his proceedings, to 
 be animated with a more than ordinary degree of 
 hatred towards the French ; that is to say, he look- 
 ed neither to his right nor to his left — paid no at- 
 tention either to the momentary retrogression or 
 
296 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 advance of his comrades ; but steadily kept his 
 ground, or varied it only for the purpose of obtain- 
 ing a better aim at his opponents. He had posted 
 himself considerably in advance of his own line, 
 behind a large furze-bush, or rather in the middle 
 of a furze-bower, fi'om which I saw him deliberate- 
 ly pick off three Frenchmen, one after another. 
 At length he was noticed by the enemy, and six or 
 seven of them turned towards his place of ambus- 
 cade. Nothing daunted, the Portuguese remained 
 perfectly steady ; he crouched down, indeed, to 
 load, but the moment his rifle was charged, he 
 leant over the bush, and fired. One of his assail- 
 ants fell ; whilst the rest, pointing their pieces to 
 the spot from whence the smoke issued, gave him 
 a volley ; but it was harmless j he had darted to 
 the other side of the bush, and every shot missed 
 him. He knelt down and loaded again ; the enemy 
 were now within twenty yards of him ; he fired, 
 and an officer who accompanied them, walked off 
 the field, grasping his left arm in his right hand. 
 The rest of his adversaries, as if panic-struck, re- 
 treated ; and there he staid, till the close of the af- 
 fair ; after which, he returned to his ranks, appa- 
 rently unhurt. That man killed and wounded not 
 fewer than eight French soldiers during the day. 
 
 It was now drawing towards evening, when our 
 attention was powerfully, and somewhat painfully. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 297 
 
 attracted to the little corps which had crossed tlie 
 Adour upon rafts, and now occupied a position 
 among the sand hills on the opposite hank. Hi- 
 therto, they had heen either unnoticed, or disre- 
 garded hy the enemy. The only serious fighting, 
 indeed, which had as yet taken place, on the ex- 
 treme left of our line, was a sort of struggle be- 
 tween a French frigate, assisted hy two gun-boats, 
 and a British battery of eighteen-pounders, well 
 supplied with red-hot shot. The result of that 
 struggle was, as it may be anticipated, the com- 
 plete destruction of the gun-boats, and the com- 
 pulsory retreat of the ship ; but to the passing of 
 our infantry, no regard seemed to have been paid 
 — at least no endeavour was made to cut them off, 
 or to hinder them from strengthening their post. 
 At length, however, the French general appeared 
 to have discovered his error. A column of five 
 thousand infantry, with several pieces of cannon, 
 was accordingly formed, and marched in firm ar- 
 ray to the attack of only six hundred soldiers of 
 the British guards, supported by a small detach- 
 ment of rockets. 
 
 The ground which General Stopford held, was, 
 happily for him, extremely favourable. It was full 
 of inequalities ; each of whicli formed, as it were, 
 a natural parapet, behind which troops could shel- 
 ter themselves. Perceiving the approach of his as- 
 
 N 2 
 
298 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 sailants, the general formed his people to the best 
 advantage in rear of one of the sand hills ; and 
 causing them to lie down, so as to be completely 
 concealed, he waited patiently till the head of the 
 attacking column had arrived within twenty yards 
 of him. Then the word was given to start up ; and 
 the rocket men throwing in their diabolical en- 
 gines with extraordinary precision, at the very in- 
 stant when the infantry fired a well-directed vol- 
 ley, the confusion created in the ranks of the ene- 
 my beggars all description. I saw and conversed 
 with a French serjeant who was taken in this af- 
 fair. He assured me, that he had been personally 
 engaged in twenty battles, and that he had never 
 really known the sensation of fear till to-day. A 
 rocket, it appeared, had passed through his knap- 
 sack without hurting him ; but such was the vio- 
 lence with which it flew, that he fell upon his face, 
 and the horrible hissing sound produced by it was 
 one which he declared that he never could forget. 
 Nor is it the least appalling part of a rocket's pro- 
 gress, that you see it coming, and yet know not 
 how to avoid it. It skips and starts about from 
 place to place in so strange a manner, that the 
 chances are, when you are running to the right or 
 left to get out of the way, you run directly against 
 it; and hence the absolute rout, which a fire of 
 ten or twelve rockets can create, provided they 
 
CHAPTER XX. 299 
 
 take effect. But it is a very uncertain weapon. It 
 may, indeed, spread havock among the enemy, but 
 it may also turn back upon the people who use it, 
 causing, like the elephant of other days, the defeat 
 of those whom it was designed to protect. On the 
 present occasion, however, it proved materially 
 serviceable, as every man can testify who witness- 
 ed the result of the fire. 
 
 Having thus briefly detailed the issue of the 
 engagement, it may appear almost superfluous to 
 state, how we were affected by the expectation of 
 its occurrence. We knew well that a mere hand- 
 ful of our fellow-soldiers were unavoidably thrown 
 into such a position, that, let their case be what it 
 might, no succour could be afforded them. We 
 saw by the dense and lengthened mass which was 
 moving down, and by the guns and horses which 
 accompanied it, that this little corps was about to 
 sustain an assault from a force capable of over- 
 whelming it by absolute bodily weight ; and feel- 
 ing that we could render no other aid, than that 
 which empty wishes supply, we cast no imputa- 
 tion upon the bravery of our comrades, when we 
 trembled for their safety. All eyes were directed 
 to the sand-hills ; scarce a word was spoken by 
 the spectators, and the greater number absolutely 
 held their breath, till the shock was given. 
 
 The battery of eighteen-pounders, of which I 
 
300 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 have already spoken, failed not to salute the ene- 
 my's column as it passed. The range was a long 
 one ; but our gunners were skilful, and it was 
 consolatory to see, from the occasional checks and 
 disorders in various parts of the advancing corps, 
 that its salute was more than honorary. But what 
 had become of our own people ? — they had all dis- 
 appeared ; and it seemed as if the French troops 
 might march without molestation to the margin of 
 the sea. The problem was speedily solved ; and 
 the very first discharge, given as I have described 
 above, decided the business. It was followed, as 
 such a fire is generally followed in the British ser- 
 vice, by a charge with the bayonet, and we, who, 
 but a moment before, had been breathless with ap- 
 prehension, now shouted in triumph, as we beheld 
 the mass, of late so formidable, scattered and put 
 to flight by a single battalion. 
 
 Darkness was by this time setting in so rapidly, 
 that objects could no longer be discerned at any 
 distance, and hence, farther military operations 
 were put a stop to on both sides. The French, by 
 way, I presume, of wishing good night to their in- 
 vaders, made one more spirited attack upon the 
 Spanish and Portuguese posts, which they support- 
 ed by a demonstration in our front, and by a dis- 
 charge of cannon upon our skirmishers. Being, as 
 usual, successful on one part, and defeated on the 
 
CHAPTER XX. 301 
 
 other, they called in their stragglers, and fell biick 
 within their lines, leaving us to push forward our 
 piquets, and to keep quiet possession of all the 
 ground that we had gained. For our parts, lia\'ing 
 been informed, about an hour ago, that we should 
 be required to march to the left as soon as the night 
 could screen the movement, we stood, or rather 
 lay down, inactively, on the brow of the hill, where 
 we had spent the day ; till a division of Spaniards 
 coming up, — the same division which had so feebly 
 defended the village of Anglette during the morn- 
 ing, — we resigned to them the care of a post abun- 
 dantly defensible, and took the direction of the sand 
 hills and the Adour. 
 
 Whether it was the intention of Sir John Hope 
 to carry us farther towards his left this night, I 
 cannot tell ; but on arriving in rear of Anglette, 
 we were by no means displeased at being told that 
 we were destined to remain there until the mor- 
 row. The roads were all choked up with tumbrils, 
 ammunition- waggons, baggage, and troops, filing 
 to different points, apparently in not the best of 
 order. Around the village, in particular, a vast 
 bivouack, chiefly of Spanish infantry and mule- 
 teers, had been formed, insomuch that it was not 
 without some difliculty that we made our way in- 
 to the street. Then the sounds which saluted us as 
 
302 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 we passed — the Babel-like confounding of all lan- 
 guages — the laugh, the cry, the oath, and here and 
 there the low moan or wild shriek of the wound- 
 ed, — formed altogether a species of concert which 
 certainly gave no evidence of strict discipline or ac- 
 curate arrangement. It was, however, altogether 
 a wild and a striking scene ; and a sort of waver- 
 ing and dull light which the fires of the bivouack 
 shed over it added not a little to its sublimity. 
 
 At length we readied the houses which were set 
 apart for our accommodation, and truly they were 
 far from being over commodious. About three 
 hundred men were ushered into a cottage con- 
 sisting of two apartments, or, as they say in the 
 north, of " a but and a ben ;" and here, upon 
 the earthen floor, we were fain to cast ourselves 
 down, in order to obtain in sleep an escape from 
 the cravings of hunger, which for several hours 
 past had been somewhat urgent. We had eaten 
 nothing since three o'clock in the morning, nor had 
 any supply of provisions arrived. The poor cottage 
 was, as may be imagined, wholly unfurnished with 
 viands ; indeed, we were as much surprised as plea- 
 sed when the peasant to whom it belonged, and 
 who had remained to keep possession, produced us 
 a bottle of very bad brandy, called, in the language 
 of the country, aquadent This we divided among 
 
CHAPTER XX. 303 
 
 US as far as it would go ; and having wished in vain 
 for the arrival of the quarter-master and commis- 
 sary, we wrapped our cloaks about us and lay down. 
 Sleep soon came to our relief, 
 
304 THE SUBALTERN, 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The night of the 23d passed by in quiet, and 
 long before dawn on the 24th we stood, as usual, 
 in our ranks and under arms. Thus passed about 
 half an hour, when orders were given to form into 
 marching order, and to file towards the left in the 
 direction of the Adour. These orders were prompt- 
 ly obeyed ; and, after a journey of about a league, 
 we found ourselves commanded to halt upon a 
 sandy plain, at the distance of perhaps a couple of 
 miles from the walls of Bayonne, and half that dis- 
 tance, or something less than half, from the out- 
 works. Though thus placed within point-blank 
 range of the enemy's advanced batteries, we were 
 nevertheless amply secured against their fire ; for 
 a little sand-hill stood in our immediate front, of 
 height sufficient to shut out not only the soldiers, 
 but the tops of the tents, from the gaze of the be- 
 sieged. 
 
 Though we reached our ground at an early hour 
 in the morning, a considerable space elapsed ere 
 the baggage and provisions came up. The reader 
 will therefore imagine that the setting forth of a 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 305 
 
 substantial breakfast, whicli immediately ensued, 
 proved a source of no trifling gratification to men 
 who had fasted for upwards of forty hours, and 
 whose appetite, though stifled by sleep, had revives! 
 of late in a very troublesome degree. It consisted, 
 I well recollect, of slices of beef, hastily and im- 
 perfectly broiled, with mouldy biscuit, and indif- 
 ferent tea ; but the coarsest viands are sweet to the 
 hungi-y, and we were in no humour to find fault 
 with the quality of ours. 
 
 Having finished our meal, we were by no means 
 displeased to learn that, for the present at least, 
 we were doomed to be stationary. The camp was 
 accordingly pitched in due form ; sundry ruinous 
 dwellings in its vicinity were taken possession of, 
 chiefly as stables for the horses. Guns, fishing-rods, 
 and greyhounds were desired to be put in service- 
 able order ; and every disposition was made to se- 
 cure comfort. The sole subject of complaint, indeed, 
 was found to be in the unfavourable state of the 
 weather, whicli had become since yesterday boiste- 
 rous, with heavy showers of rain and hail ; but this 
 very circumstance, at which we were disposed to 
 murmur, chanced to be of all others the most fa- 
 vourable to the operations of the army. By means 
 of these squalls, the boats and chasse-marees, which 
 had hovered about the mouth of the Adour for se- 
 veral days, were enabled to pass the bar, and tho 
 
306 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 ground-work of the floating bridge (if such an Iri- 
 cism be admissible) was laid. 
 
 As the passage of the bar was an operation of 
 considerable difficulty, and as I was fortunate 
 enough to be an eye-witness of the daring intrepi- 
 dity and nautical skill of those who effected it, I 
 shall take the liberty of describing the occurrence 
 more at length. 
 
 My friend and myself, having seen a little to the 
 comforts of our men, and added in an important 
 degree to our own by a change of habiliments, 
 walked forth, with no other view than that of whi- 
 ling away certain hours, which might haA^e other- 
 wise hung heavy on our hands. We took the di- 
 rection of the river's mouth, because there a dark 
 pinG-V/Gcd promised to shelter us from the blast ; 
 and because we were anxious to see how far the 
 engineers had proceeded in the construction of the 
 bridge. At this time, be it observed, we were wholly 
 ignorant of the kind of bridge which was about to 
 be formed. We knew not so much as that it was 
 to consist of sailing vessels at all, but concluded 
 that pontoons would be anchored, as had been the 
 case at the Bidassoa. Our astonishment may there- 
 fore be conceived, when, on mounting an eminence, 
 we beheld a squadron of some thirty craft, bearing 
 down with all sail set towards the bar ; over which 
 the waves were dashing in white foam, being dri- 
 
CHAPTER xxr. 307 
 
 veil inwards by a strong gale from the north-east. 
 But we were not the only anxious spectators of this 
 animating show. The bank of the river, and all 
 the heights near, were crowded with general and 
 staff officers, conspicuous among whom were Sir 
 John Hope, and, if my memory fail me not. Lord 
 Wellington himself. The gi'oups were, one and all 
 of them, speechless. The sense of sight appeared 
 to be the only sense left in full vigour to the indi- 
 \iduals who composed them, and even from it all 
 objects were apparently shut out, except the gal- 
 lant squadron. 
 
 Down they came before the breeze T\dth amazing 
 velocity ; but the surf ran so high, and there seem- 
 ed to be so little water upon the sands, that I for 
 cue felt fis if a 'vvciglit had been removed from my 
 heart, when I beheld them suddenly put up their 
 helms and tack about. The prospect from the sea 
 was indeed by all accounts appalling ; and even 
 British sailors hesitated, for once in their lives, 
 whether they could face the danger. But the hesi- 
 tation was not of long continuance. A row-boat, 
 Spanish built, but manned by Lieutenant Cheyne, 
 and five seamen from the Woodlark, threw itself, 
 with great judgment, upon a wave. The swell bore 
 it clear across the shoal, and loud and reiterated 
 were the shouts with which it was greeted as it 
 rushed proudly through the deep water. The next 
 
308 THE SUBALTERN, 
 
 which came was a prize — a large French fishing 
 lugger, manned by seamen from a transport, close- 
 ly followed by a gun-boat, under the command of 
 Lieutenant Cheshire. They, too, were borne across ; 
 but the fourth was less fortunate. It was a schooner- 
 rigged craft, full of people, and guided by Captain 
 Elliot. I know not how it came about, whether a 
 sudden change of wind occurred, or a rope unfor- 
 tunately escaped from its fastening, but at the in- 
 stant when the schooner took the foam, the main- 
 sail of her hinder mast flapped round. In one se- 
 cond her broadside was to the surf, in another she 
 was upset, and her gallant captain, with several of 
 his crew, perished among the breakers. The rest 
 were dashed by an eddy towards the bank, and 
 happily saved. 
 
 The horror which we experienced at contempla- 
 ting this event, though extreme for the moment, 
 was necessarily of short duration ; for our atten- 
 tion was immediately attracted to other vessels, 
 which, one after another, drew near. Of these, all 
 except one particular chasse maree, succeeded in 
 making good the passage ; — it shared the fate of 
 the schooner. It was upset upon the curl of a wave, 
 and went down, with the whole of its crew. This 
 last was even a more awful spectacle than the for- 
 mer. The little vessel, after being tossed round, 
 rocked for a moment, as it were, upon the surf. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 309 
 
 just long enough for us to see tlie despairing ges- 
 tures of the sailors, and to hear their shriek of con- 
 sternation, — and then a huge wave striking lier, 
 she fell, not upon her broadside, hut absolutely 
 with bottom upwards. Not a man escaped of all 
 who had conducted her ; and several fine promising 
 midshipmen were among them. 
 
 Five-and-twenty vessels having now entered the 
 Adour, besides four or five gun-boats destined to 
 protect them, no time was lost in running them up 
 to their proper stations, and in bringing them se- 
 curely to anchor, at equal distances from one an- 
 other. The whole were then strongly bound toge- 
 ther by cables, the ends of which were made fast 
 to winches prepared for the purpose on each bank ; 
 and which, running both by the bows and sterns, 
 kept the craft tolerably steady, notwithstanding 
 the ^dolence of the current. I need not add, that 
 no economy was exercised in the matter of anchors, 
 of which two were dropped from each bow, and a 
 like number from each stern. 
 
 The boats being thus rendered sufficiently se- 
 cure, half a dozen strong ropes were extended along 
 their centres, at equi-distances of about two feet 
 from one another. These were so disposed as not 
 to bear any continual weight upon the smaller ves- 
 sels. They were indeed steadied as they passed 
 over each, by being fastened to capstans, and so 
 
310 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 kept from swinging too widely ; but it was upon 
 four or five of the largest class only that they were 
 made to lean, the intervals between being in reality 
 so many hanging bridges. Across these ropes again 
 were laid down planks, made fast by ties only ; 
 and the whole was so nicely balanced, that the tread 
 of a single passenger caused it to swing backwards 
 and forwards, whilst an entire army might pass 
 with the most perfect safety. Such was the famous 
 bridge of boats across the Adour, which connected 
 the two banks of the river where it measures eight 
 hundred yards in width, and which, in itself, in- 
 cluding ground- work on both sides, covered a space 
 little short of nine hundred yards. 
 
 A-head of the bridge, with their broadsides to- 
 wards the town, were moored five gun-boats, each 
 armed with six long twenty-four pounders. These 
 again were in part defended by a slight boom ; 
 whilst a boom infinitely stronger, capable of re- 
 pelling any substance which might be floated down 
 by the tide, hung between them and the bridge. A 
 boom somewhat similar, but more in the shape of 
 a break- water, was placed behind the bridge, to 
 shelter it from any sudden swell of the sea, such 
 as might be apprehended during spring-tides ; and 
 each boat being manned by a party of seamen, well 
 skilled in the management of such craft, the fabric 
 was justly regarded as abundantly secure. To com- 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 311 
 
 plete its construction, however, gave emplo}Tnent 
 to the artificers of the army during two wliole days, 
 though they contrived to render it passable for in- 
 fantry in less than half that space of time. 
 
 In the meanwhile, neither the right nor the cen- 
 tre of the allied army were inactive. The opera- 
 tions of the 23d, — of which I have already said as 
 much, and perhaps more, than one wlio professes 
 not to speak from personal observation is entitled 
 to say, — having been concluded, Soult, alarmed at 
 the determined advance of liis enemies, and con- 
 founded by the celerity of their movements, retired 
 in the night of the 24th from Sauveterre across the 
 Gave du Pau, and destroying all the bridges in his 
 flight, assembled the strengtli of his army, on the 
 morning of the 25th, near the village of Orthies. 
 Hither Lord Wellington immediately followed. 
 Pushing forward a numerous body of Spaniards, 
 so as to cut off all communication between the 
 French Marshal and the garrison of Bayonne, he 
 manoeuvred mth the 3d, 4th, 5tli, 6th, and 7th 
 British divisions, during that and the succeeding 
 days, and finally on the 27th, fought the glorious 
 battle of Orthies, of which, as I had no share in 
 it, I shall attempt no description. The result of 
 it, as everybody knows, was the hasty and disas- 
 trous retreat of Marshal Soult upon Toulouse ; the 
 capture of Bourdeaux, and the first public decla- 
 
312 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 ration which had yet been made by any part of the 
 French nation, of the renewal of their allegiance 
 to the house of Bourbon. 
 
 Wliilst these great deeds were performing else- 
 where, a corps, consisting of the 1st and 5th Bri- 
 tish divisions, of two or three brigades of Portu- 
 guese, and a crowd of Spaniards, proceeded, under 
 the command of Sir John Hope, to invest the town 
 and citadel of Bayonne. As the rest of my jour- 
 nal will consist entirely of such occurrences as be- 
 fell during the progress of the siege, it may not ]ye 
 amiss if I endeavour to convey to the mind of my 
 reader something like a correct idea of the impor- 
 tant city against which our efforts were turned, 
 and of the general face of the country immediately 
 around it. 
 
 The city of Bayonne stands upon a sandy plain ; 
 the citadel, upon a rock or hill which closely over- 
 hangs it. Between them runs the river Adour, 
 with a sluggish current, resembling, in the dark- 
 ness of its water, and the sliminess of its banks, 
 the Thames, near Gravesend or Blackwall, but 
 considerably narrower, and more shallow. Both 
 town and fortress are regularly and strongly for- 
 tified ; and, on the present occasion, a vast num- 
 ber of field-works, of open batteries, flesches, and 
 redoubts, were added to the more permanent ma- 
 sonry which formed the ramparts. Nor was the 
 
 2 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 313 
 
 erection of these the only method adopted by the 
 enemy to give unusual strength to this most im- 
 portant place. Various sluices were cut from the 
 river, by means of which, especially in our imme- 
 diate front, the whole face of the country could 
 be inundated at pleasure to the extent of several 
 miles ; whilst ditches, deep and wide, were here 
 and there dug with the view of retarding the ad- 
 vance of troops, and keeping them exposed to the 
 fire from the walls, as often as the occurrence of 
 each might cause a temporary check. The outer 
 defences began, in all directions, at the distance of 
 a full mile from the glacis. The roads were every- 
 where broken up and covered with abattis and 
 other incumbrances ; nothing, in short, was ne- 
 glected, which promised in any degree to contri- 
 bute to the strength of a city, which is justly re- 
 garded as the key of the southern frontier of 
 France. 
 
 Such was the condition of the works about Bay- 
 onne. With respect to the country which these 
 works commanded, it varied considerably both in 
 its nature and general appearance, the soil being 
 in some directions tolerably fruitful, in others lit- 
 tie better than sand. It was, however, universally 
 flat, and very slightly wooded or broken, to the 
 distance of three or four miles in every direction 
 from the ditch. A few hamlets were, indeed, scat- 
 
 o 
 
314 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 tered here and there, (and wherever there is a 
 French hamlet, a certain quantity of foliage will 
 be found,) the largest of which was Anglette, where 
 we had spent the night of the 23d, and through 
 which runs the great road to Bourdeaux and Pa- 
 ris ; but, in general, the desolate aspect of things 
 seemed to indicate, that the labours of the builder 
 and planter were prohibited, lest a village or a 
 grove might shelter the assailants, or furnish a 
 point of establishment within cannon-shot of the 
 walls. In the direction of the sea, again, and pa- 
 rallel with the left bank of the river, deep sands 
 prevailed. These were, for large patches, totally- 
 bare of verdure, but thick woods of dark short pine 
 more frequently overspread them, which, rising 
 and falling, as the sands had broken up into little 
 eminences and valleys, gave a very striking and ro- 
 mantic appearance to that side of the panorama. 
 As I afterwards learned, the Llandes, those vast 
 forests which stretch all the way to Bourdeaux, 
 and which, according to the tradition of the na- 
 tives, were originally planted to render firm what 
 had previously been an huge moving quicksand, 
 begin here. 
 
 The description which I have hitherto given of 
 Bayonne, and the scenery near it, applies only to 
 the city and to the track of country situated on the 
 southern, or Spanish side of the Adour. The ci- 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 315 
 
 tadel, again, being built upon a hill, or, rather, 
 upon the crest of a range of heights which rise gra- 
 dually from the sea, and extend upwards in a sort 
 of inclined plane for about eight miles, differs en- 
 tirely from the preceding sketch, both in its style 
 of fortification, and in the nature of the prospect 
 which it presents to the gaze of a traveller. Like 
 all hill-forts, its works are constructed rather as 
 the natural inequalities of the ground permit, than 
 after any scientific plan or model. One of its 
 fronts, that which faces the village of St Etienne, 
 and the mouth of the river, presents, indeed, the 
 regular appearance of being part of an octagon ; 
 but, in other directions, the abrupt and uneven 
 course of the rock has compelled the engineer to 
 draw his wall around without any respect to form 
 or figure. Yet it is a place of prodigious strength ; 
 the only assailable point in it being that which the 
 regularity of the ground has permitted to receive 
 the most perfect kind of fortification. 
 
 The view from the ramparts of that pile is ex- 
 tremely pleasing. Vast woods of pine are seen in 
 the distance, whilst nearer the face of the countrv 
 is beautifully diversified, by the intermingling of 
 corn fields, meadows, groves of magnificent cork 
 trees, \dneyards, cottages, and several chateaux. 
 Close beneath the wall, moreover, lies the roman- 
 tic village of St Etienne, mth its neat church and 
 
316 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 churchyard, sloping along the side of a ravine, and 
 having all its cottages surrounded by pretty gar- 
 dens, well stocked with fruit trees and shrubs. 
 This village was completely commanded, not only 
 by the guns from the citadel, but by a redoubt 
 which General Thouvenot, the French governor, 
 had caused to be erected on a sort of table land 
 near it, and which, though no addition to the 
 beauty of the landscape, added greatly to the ge- 
 neral strength of the castle, by occupying the only 
 level spot across which the besiegers might hope to 
 push a sap with any success. 
 
 Though Bayonne was already, to all intents and 
 purposes, invested — that is to say, though the gar- 
 rison and inhabitants were fairly cut off from hold- 
 ing any open intercourse with other parts of the 
 country, nothing of the confinement of a siege was 
 yet felt by them. The besiegers had, indeed, drawn 
 an extended line around the works ; but the French 
 piquets were still posted at the distance of three, 
 four, and some of them five miles from the glacis ; 
 whilst their patrols continually broke the chain of 
 connexion, and made excursions as far as the 
 camp of Marshal Soult at Orthies. This was the 
 case, at least, up to the evening of the 24th. There 
 being no direct or safe communication between 
 the two banks of the Adour below the town. Sir 
 John Hope could not venture to tighten the cord, 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 317 
 
 or to convert the investment into a strict blockade. 
 As yet, all reinforcements to the little corps, whicli, 
 under the command of General Stopford, had pass- 
 ed on the 23d, were floated across by means of 
 rafts ; the men and guns sitting upon the beams of 
 wood, and leading the horses, which swam after 
 them. Yet even in this rude way, so great a force 
 contrived to establish itself among the sand hills, 
 by evening on the 24th, that all apprehension of a 
 renewed attack from the enemy was laid aside. 
 Nevertheless, the artificers were anxiously pressed 
 to render the bridge trust-worthy, with as little 
 delay as possible ; and they strenuously exerted 
 themselves to meet the wishes of the General. 
 
 In the meanwhile, about forty thousand men of 
 the Spanish army were posted along those faces of 
 the town and citadel which looked towards Helle- 
 tre and the Joyeuse. The left of this semi-circu- 
 lar line resting upon the heights, where, durins; 
 the late affkir, I stood in safety to watch the pro- 
 gress of the skirmishers on both sides of me, swept 
 round, through the abandoned entrenchments, to 
 the brink of the river. Here the stream being 
 narrow, a pontoon-bridge was already formed, and 
 the line recommencing on the opposite bank, wound 
 on till it formed a junction with a corps of Portu- 
 guese, at the back of the citadel. But as yet, tlie 
 chain was continued from that point, only by oc- 
 
318 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 casional patrolling parties ; and through this open- 
 ing the enemy daily sent out his foragers, and 
 brought in supplies. Such a state of things, how- 
 ever, could not be long permitted to exist. It was 
 essential to the prosecution of Lord Wellington's 
 future operations that the gap should be filled up 
 previous to the renewal of hostilities between his 
 army and that of Soult ; nor was much time 
 wasted in making preparations for driving in the 
 garrison within the walls. Working parties la- 
 boured hard, not only during the day, but during 
 the whole night of the 24th ; and at dawn on the 
 25th, it was declared that infantry might cross the 
 floating-bridge with safety. This was the signal 
 for action ; and hence the 25th was again, at least 
 to part of the army, a day of hostile employment* 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 319 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A DIRECT communication between the opposite 
 banks of the river being thus established, the re- 
 maining battalions of the Guards, the chief part 
 of the King's German Legion, together with a pro- 
 portionate force of cavalry, and of artillery, march- 
 ed, at day-break on the twenty-fifth, to join their 
 comrades among the sand hills. The whole of the 
 besieging army being at the same time put in mo- 
 tion, the gap which, prior to this date, had existed 
 in the line of investment, was filled up. Little or 
 no fighting took place on that occasion. The enemy 
 perceiving our design, offered no serious resist- 
 ance to its accomplishment, but evacuating the vil- 
 lage of Boucaut, after having exchanged a few 
 shots with the skirmishers, established their piquets 
 about half a mile in its rear. As yet, therefore, a 
 good deal more of open space was granted to them 
 than they could long hope to enjoy ; but idl oppor- 
 tunity of corresponding with Marshal Soult, as 
 well as of adding to the stock of grain and pro^a- 
 sions already in their arsenals, was cut off. 
 
 The running and irregulai* fire which had been 
 
320 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 maintained throughout the morning, gradually died 
 away, and ceased altogether about noon. From 
 that hour till after night-fall, everything continued 
 quiet. A feverish excitement, necessarily conse- 
 quent even upon a trifling skirmish, prevailed in- 
 deed amongst us ; nor did we venture to take off 
 our accoutrements, or return to our usual employ- 
 ments during the remainder of the day. But we 
 might have done so, had we felt disposed, with the 
 most perfect safety, for the enemy were too well 
 satisfied with being permitted to retain what they 
 did retain, of territory beyond the glacis, to endan- 
 ger its loss by a useless attempt to regain what 
 had been wrested from them. Still we were an- 
 xious, and the anxiety which pervaded us all the 
 day, ceased not to operate at night. 
 
 The garrison of Bayonne, we were well aware, 
 was at once numerically powerful, and composed 
 of the best troops in the French army. From all 
 that we could learn, Soult had by no means cal- 
 culated upon the plan of operations adopted by 
 Lord Wellington. Concluding that his Lordship 
 would halt after the passage of the Adour, and in- 
 vest that important place with the whole of his 
 forces, he had thrown into it no fewer than fifteen 
 thousand picked men, assigning the command to 
 General Tliouvenot, an officer, who, by his suc- 
 cessful defence of Burgos, on a former occasion, 
 
CHAPTElt XXII. 321 
 
 appeared worthy of so delicate a trust on the pre- 
 sent. Lord Wellington was, however, too con- 
 scious of the advantages which arise in war from 
 celerity of movement, to waste his time before the 
 Avails of Bayonne. He accordingly left Sir John 
 Hope to mask the city with the two British divi- 
 sions, which composed the left column, a force 
 somewhat inferior in point of numbers to that 
 which it blockaded ; whilst he himself, with the 
 remaining five divisions, hung upon the rear of the 
 retreating army. It is true, that our little corps 
 fVarmee was supported by thirty or forty thousantl 
 Spaniards, who, if they served no other purpose, 
 made at least a show, and hindered weak foraging 
 j)arties from traversing the open country; but 
 upon their efforts little reliance could be placed, in 
 case a bold sally should be made ; whilst the scat- 
 tered order of our encampment hindered us from 
 opposing, at any given point, a force at all compe- 
 tent to meet at least with decisive superiority, that 
 ])ortion of the garrison which the governor might 
 at any time employ in such a service. The cir- 
 cumference of Bayonne, measuring it from the 
 exterior of the works, cannot be computed at less 
 than four miles. Our line again, which encircled 
 it at a distance of three miles from the ditch, would 
 of course greatly exceed this ; and when it is re- 
 membered that not more than fifty thousand meic 
 
 o2 
 
322 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 at the utmost, and of these something less than fif- 
 teen thousand who were trust-worthy, occupied 
 that line, it will he seen that our situation was not 
 such as to render caution unnecessary, or appre- 
 hension groundless. 
 
 We had, however, retired to rest at the usual 
 hour, on the night of the 25th ; all things conti- 
 nuing in apparent security ; when sleep, which was 
 l>eginning to assert its dominion over our senses, 
 was suddenly dispelled, hy the report of a musket- 
 shot, in the direction of the piquets. The battalion 
 to which I was attached, still kept its ground be- 
 hind the sand hill, whither it had moved, after the 
 affair of the 23d. Its outposts were divided from 
 the camp only by the hill ; consequently, little time 
 could be given to prepare and accoutre in case an 
 attack should be made. Not a moment was there- 
 fore wasted in surmises, not a hint was thrown 
 out as to the propriety of waiting till a little more 
 firing should bespeak cause of serious alarm ; but 
 every man sprang from his pallet, and casting 
 about him as much of his garments as could be 
 found on the instant, seized his arms, and ran to 
 the place of muster. And now another and ano- 
 ther shot was fired; the bugles began to sound, 
 the baggage w^as hastily pack^ed, the horses saddled, 
 and all the bustle and hurry attendant upon the 
 preparations for battle took place. For myself, ha- 
 
 9 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 323 
 
 ving seen that my men were in their ranks, I ran 
 to the top of tlic hill, from whence I beheld the 
 flashes of several muskets, half way l)etween our 
 sentinels and those of the enemy ; but no sound of 
 advancing columns met my ear, neither were these 
 flashes returned by our own soldiers. The degree 
 of surprise excited by all this was not, however, 
 of long continuance. The oflicer in command of 
 the out-posts dispatched a messenger to inform us, 
 that no symptom of an attack was discernible ; but 
 that several deserters had come into his lines, at 
 whom the French sentries fired as they fled. This 
 account was speedily confirmed by the arrival of 
 the deserters in the camp ; and the troops accord- 
 ingly laid aside their weapons, and returned to 
 their tents. 
 
 The alarm in that direction had hardly subsided, 
 when another and a not less serious one arose in 
 a diiferent quarter. A sentry who was posted by 
 the bank of the river, reported to his oflicer, when 
 visiting him, that boats were moving, and oars 
 splashing in the Avater. Apprehensions were im- 
 mediately excited for the safety of the bridge, 
 against which we naturally concluded that some 
 attempt was about to be made. To oppose it as far 
 as possible, of whatever nature it might be, three 
 field-pieces which were attached to our brigade, 
 limbered up, and galloped to the water's edge; 
 
324 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 these I accompanied, and certainly the splash of 
 oars was very audible, though the darkness would 
 not permit us to distinguish from whence the 
 sound proceeded. A shot or two were, however, 
 fired in the direction of the sound, just by way of 
 hinting to the enemy that we were awake ; and whe- 
 ther it was that the hint was not lost upon them, 
 or that they never seriously entertained the idea 
 of assailing the bridge, an immediate cessation of 
 rowing was the consequence. Having watched, 
 therefore, for half an hour, and neither hearing 
 nor seeing anything indicative of danger, I left the 
 gunners to themselves ; and returning to my cloak 
 and blanket, I wrapt myself closely up, and slept 
 soundly and securely till the morning. 
 
 The whole of the 26th passed over, without the 
 occurrence of any event worthy of mention. By 
 myself it was spent, not very profitably, in saun- 
 tering about among the pine-woods, where little or 
 no game was to be found ; whilst for the troops in 
 general, as well within as without the walls of the 
 beleaguered city, it might be accoimted a sort of 
 armed truce. Hardly a cannon-shot was fired from 
 sun-rise till sun-set, on either side ; but matters 
 were drawing fast to a crisis. Stores and ammu- 
 nition were continually conveyed across the river 
 in large quantities, and it was manifest, that even 
 the few miles of open country which the garrison 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 325 
 
 still held, would, before long, be taken away from 
 them. It was, therefore, no unexpected commu- 
 nication which I received, on the morning of the 
 27th, that the corps was to, stand to its arms forth- 
 with, and that the enemy were to be driven in all 
 directions within their works. 
 
 Having, in a former cliapter, described the na- 
 ture of the ground in our immediate front, the 
 reader will readily understand why no serious ad- 
 vance on our part was intended. We were already 
 within point-blank range of the guns on the ram- 
 parts ; whilst between the ramparts and the camp, 
 no broken ground, nor village, nor any other 
 species of cover, existed. We could not, therefore, 
 hope to establish ourselves, had we even pushed 
 on, whilst the French general, by opening the 
 sluices from the river, might, at any moment, lay tlie 
 whole level under water. On the opposite side of 
 the Adour, however, the case was different. There 
 the most forward British piquets were very little 
 in advance of the village of Boucaut, and the vil- 
 lage of Boucaut is full four miles from the citadel. 
 The face of the country, too, between these points, 
 being rugged and broken, numerous positions could 
 be taken up by the besiegers, in which, wliilst they 
 were themselves secure from the fire of the place, 
 they could easily prevent the garrison from ven- 
 turing beyond the ditch ; whilst the relative situa- 
 
826 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 tions of the town and fortress, rendered the one 
 secure against active annoyance, till after the other 
 should have fallen into our hands. Though, there- 
 fore, it was understood that the whole of our line 
 was to be drawn somewhat more tightly round the 
 city, we were all aware that the trenches would be 
 opened, and breaching batteries thrown up against 
 the citadel alone. 
 
 The men being accoutred, and the baggage pack- 
 ed, we stood quietly in our ranks, behind the sand 
 hill, till a gun, from the opposite bankof the stream, 
 sounded the signal of attack. Upon this we ex- 
 tended our files, so as to give to a single weak bat- 
 talion the appearance of an entire brigade, and 
 ascending the heights, we stopped short where the 
 tops of our bayonets, and the feathers of our caps, 
 just showed themselves over the ridge. Similar 
 demonstrations were likewise made by the corps 
 which filled Ans^lette and crowned the rise in con- 
 nexion with it; whilst occasionally a shout was 
 raised, as if at length the order of attack had been 
 given, and we were preparing to rush on. All this 
 was done, for the purpose of drawing the attention 
 of the enemy to many different points at the same 
 time, and thus hindering them from opposing, with 
 the total strength of the garrison, the forward 
 movements of those who were appointed to invest 
 the castle. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 32T 
 
 Whilst we, and the divisions near us, were thus 
 amusing ourselves and the enemy witli the pomp 
 and circumstance, rather than with tlie reality of 
 war, the guards and light Germans, with a corj)s 
 of Portuguese infantry, were very differently oc- 
 cupied on the other bank of the river. As our si- 
 tuation was a commanding one, it enabled us to 
 o^3tain a tolerably distinct view of tlicir proceed- 
 ings. We saw one column of British troops form 
 on the sands beside Boucaut. In front of it was 
 a body of German riflemen, who pressed leisurely 
 forward in skirmishing order, till they reached the 
 piquets of the French troops. Of the enemy, on 
 the other hand, a heavy column showed itself upon 
 the high ground, where it halted, and continued 
 to send out numerous parties to support the out- 
 posts ; between whom and the Germans, a hot 
 skirmish soon began, nor could it be said that any 
 decided advantage was gained by either party du- 
 ring several hours. 
 
 The column which we descried upon the sands 
 beside Boucaut, was not of great strength ; indeed, 
 the numbers of our own people, discernible by us, 
 were very inconsiderable. The fact, as I after- 
 wards learned, was, that the side of the hill visible 
 to us, was by far the most rugged and tlie least as- 
 sailable of any ; consequently, the main attack was 
 to be made in another direction, the attack in this 
 
328 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 waiting till the other should have in part succeed- 
 ed. Hence the trifling progress made by our skir- 
 mishers, who seemed to be kept back rather than 
 animated forward by their officers, and hence the 
 apparently obstinate resistance of the French pi- 
 quets. But it was, nevertheless, an exceedingly 
 interesting spectacle, to the beauty of which, the 
 uneven and picturesque nature of the scenery 
 around added not little. 
 
 I wish I could convey to the mind of the reader 
 some notion of the scene as it then appeared, and 
 is still remembered by myself. Let him imagine 
 liimself, then, lying with me upon the brow of a 
 sand hill, and looking down, first upon the broad 
 and deep waters of the Adour, and over them, upon 
 a sandy bank, which speedily ends, and is suc- 
 ceeded by a green hill : having in its side, the side 
 upon which we are gazing, frequent cuts or gullies, 
 or glens, some of them bare, others wooded, witli 
 here and there a white cottage showing itself from 
 among the trees. Let him imagine that he sees, 
 on the summit of the heights, and immediately in 
 a line with himself, a portion of an armed mass, 
 with a single field-piece pointed towards the river's 
 mouth. About a mile to the rearward, again, let 
 him figure to himself a green field, more level than 
 any other part of the hill-side, a sort of table-land, 
 as it were, having a hedge along that face of it 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 329 
 
 which is turned towards Boucaut, and a precipi- 
 tous red bank under the hedge. In this field he 
 will observe about three hundred infantry soldiers, 
 dressed in grey great-coats and broad caps, or cha- 
 cauts, who carry hairy knapsacks on their backs, 
 and are armed with long clear muskets, which 
 have bayonets screwed to their muzzles. These 
 are Frenchmen. Under the red bank, let him far- 
 ther suppose that there is a picturesque valley, 
 stocked with tall and shadowy cork-trees, about 
 the middle of which is a neat mansion, something 
 larger than a farm-nouse, and yet hardly deserving 
 the name of a chateau. That house is full of light 
 Germans, and almost every tree about it affords 
 cover to a rifleman, who fires, as a good aim is 
 presented to him, at the persons behind tlie hedge. 
 From the windows of the house, too, many shots 
 are from time to time discharged, whilst the sud- 
 den flash, and uprising of smoke, from the various 
 parts of the hedge, show that the French tirail- 
 leurs are not less active than their assailants, or 
 disposed to receive their salute without returning 
 it. In this skirmish little change of ground takes 
 place. Occasionally, indeed, a single rifleman will 
 steal on, running from tree to tree, till he has 
 reached a convenient spot ; whilst a Frenchman 
 will as often rise, and having watched him through 
 a brake, or over a bush, will fire whenever he ex- 
 
330 " THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 poses himself to his observation. But no grand 
 rush is made on either side, nor any decided loss 
 is sustained, either of ground or in men. 
 
 All this while the exertions of our people were, 
 as far as might be, aided by a well-served can- 
 nonade from the three pieces of artillery, which 
 had kept their station near the bank of the river 
 since the evening of the 25th. The fire of these 
 guns was directed chiefly against a large house — 
 apparently some public work or manufactory — 
 which stood by the brink of the water, and Avas 
 filled with French troops. Neither were the ene- 
 my's batteries opposite to us idle. Having wasted 
 about twenty or thirty round shot without eflfect, 
 they brought a couple of mortars, with a howitzer 
 or two, to bear upon us, from which they threw 
 shell after shell among our ranks ; but from the 
 effects of the cannonade, the nature of the soil se- 
 cured us, the shells either burying themselves in 
 the sand to the extinction of the fuze, or exploding 
 when we were all snugly laid flat, and therefore 
 safe from their fragments. 
 
 Matters had continued thus for several hours, 
 and we were beginning to fear that some part of 
 our General's plan had gone Avrong, or that the 
 enemy were in too great force to be driven in by 
 the divisions opposed to them, when a sudden stir 
 in the, French column which had hitherto stood 
 
» CHAPTER XXII. 331 
 
 quietly upon the heights, attracted our attention. 
 The field-piece was all at once wheeled round, and 
 turned in the direction of the opposite country — 
 the infantry collected into compact order, and were 
 gradually hidden from us by the brow of the hill. 
 By and by, a few musket-shots were fired, tlien 
 about a dozen more, then came tlie report of one, 
 two, or three field-pieces, and lastly a roar of can- 
 non and small-arms was heard. This was kept up 
 hot and rapid for half an hour. Every moment it 
 came nearer and nearer. Now the smoke which 
 had at first followed each report after the interval 
 of a few seconds, rose at the same instant with the 
 noise — then the glancing of arms over the high 
 ground was distinguishable — next came the French 
 troops, some retiring slowly, and firing as they fell 
 back, others flying in extreme confusion. Mount- 
 ed ofiicers were galloping oA^er the ridge, and ap- 
 parently exerting themselves to restore order, but 
 all would not do. The enemy were in full flight. 
 Down they rushed towards the river, and away 
 along the sands in the direction of the citadel, 
 whilst our three guns poured in round shot amongst 
 them, many of which we could distinctly perceive 
 take effect ; and now the green field, on which my 
 reader and I have so long looked, was abandonetl. 
 The tirailleurs fled, the riflemen pursued, the little 
 column in scarlet pushed on in good order and 
 
332 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 with a quick pace, whilst on the brow of the height 
 above, a British ensign was held up as a signal for 
 our battery to cease firing. The signal was obey- 
 ed, and we had nothing farther to do during the 
 remainder of the day, than to watch, which we 
 eagerly did, the progress of our victorious com- 
 rades. 
 
 The enemy having fled as far as the manufac- 
 tory, were there joined by reinforcements from the 
 garrison. Here, then, the battle was renewed with 
 great obstinacy, but, desperate as was the resist- 
 ance offered, it became every hour less and less 
 effectual. At length the building took fire — it was 
 abandoned, and its defenders fled ; after which, 
 the entire scene of action was hidden from us, and 
 we were enabled to guess at the state of affairs 
 only by the sound of the firing, and the direction 
 which it took. That inclined every moment more 
 and more towards the ramparts ; but it was cease- 
 less and awful till darkness had set in, and both 
 parties were compelled to desist, because they could 
 not distinguish friends from foes. 
 
 In this affair the loss on both sides was severe, 
 but we were completely successful. The enemy 
 were driven within their works, and our advanced 
 |>osts were established in the village of St Etienne, 
 about half pistol-shot from the nearest redoubt. 
 In other directions, little change of ground occur- 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 333 
 
 red. Some Spanish divisions took up a position, I 
 believe, somewhat less distant than former! v^ from 
 the walls of Bayonnc ; but neither we, nor the di- 
 visions in communication with us, were in any de- 
 gree affected by it. We returned, on the contrary, 
 to our tents, ha\ang lost by the cannonade only one 
 man killed, and three wounded. 
 
 I recollect having stated, in another part of my 
 narrative, that, except on one occasion, I could not 
 tax my memory with any symptom of violent or 
 permanent grief on the part of a soldier's wife at 
 the death of her husband. How to account for this 
 I know not, unless it be that a camp seldom fails 
 to destroy all the finest feelings of one sex, if it 
 leave those of the other uninjured. The occasion 
 to which I then alluded occurred to-day. A fine 
 young Irishman, the pay-serjeant of my own com- 
 pany, had brought his wife with him to the seat 
 of war. He married her, it appeared, against the 
 wish of her relations, they considering themseh^s 
 in a walk of life superior to his. To what class of 
 society they belonged I cannot tell, but she, I know, 
 was a lady's-maid to some person of rank, when 
 the handsome face and manly form of IVPDermot 
 stole her heart away. They had been married about 
 a year and a half, during the whole of which time 
 she had borne the most unblemished character, 
 
 and they were accounted the most virtuous and 
 
 7 
 
334* THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 the happiest couple in the regiment. Poor things ! 
 they were this day separated for ever. 
 
 M'Dermot was as brave and good a soklier as 
 any in the army; he was, at times, even fool-hardy. 
 Having observed a raw recruit or two cower down 
 in no very dignified manner, as a cannon-ball pass- 
 ed over them, M'Dermot, by way of teaching them 
 to despise danger, threw himself at his ease on the 
 summit of the sand-hill, with his head towards the 
 enemy's guns. He was in the very act of laugh- 
 ing at these lads, assuring them that " every bul- 
 let has its billet," when a round shot struck him 
 on the crown of the head, and smashed him to 
 atoms. I shall never forget the shriek that was 
 I'aised. He was a prodigious favourite with all 
 ranks; and then aM of us thought of his poor young 
 wife, so spotless, and so completely wrapped up in 
 him. " O, who will tell Nance of this ?" said an- 
 other non-commissioned officer, his principal com- 
 panion. — " Poor Nance !" cried the soldiers, one 
 and all ; so true is it that virtue is respected, and 
 a virtuous woman beloved, even by common sol- 
 diers. But there was no hiding it from Nance. 
 The news reached her. Heaven knows how, long 
 before we returned to our tents, and she was in the 
 midst of us in a state which beggars all descrip- 
 tion, in five minutes after the event took place. 
 
 I cannot so mucli as attempt to delineate the 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 335 
 
 scene which followed. The poor creature was evi- 
 dently deranged, for she would not believe that 
 the mangled carcase before her was her husband ; 
 and she never shed a tear. " That, O that is not 
 he !" cried she ; " that M'Dcrmot — my o^vn hand- 
 some, beautiful M'Dermot ! O no, no — take it 
 away, or take me away, and bring me to him !" 
 She was removed with gentle a ioleuce to the camp, 
 and the body Avas buried ; a young fir tree being 
 planted over it. 
 
 Several days elapsed before Mrs M'Dermot was 
 sufficiently calm to look her situation in the face. 
 But at length the feeling of utter desolateness came 
 over her ; and instead of listening, as women in 
 her situation generally listen, to the proposals of 
 some new suitor, all her wishes pointed home- 
 wards. To her home she was accordingly sent. 
 We raised for her a handsome subscription, every 
 officer and man contributing something ; and I 
 have reason to believe that she is now respectably 
 settled in Cork, though still a widow. 
 
336 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIIL 
 
 FrBm the above date, namely, the 27th of Fe- 
 bruary, the siege of Bayonne may be said to have 
 fairly commenced. To follow, in regular detail, 
 the occurrences of each day, as it proceeded, would 
 not, I am sure, greatly interest my readers, whilst 
 to lay such detail before them, would be to myself 
 an occupation little less irksome than it sometimes 
 was to kill the tedious hours of a ten weeks' block- 
 ade. I may be permitted, then, to state generally, 
 and in few words, that the strictest investment 
 was continued all the while, and that an extreme- 
 ly harassing kind of duty was imposed upon us till 
 the siege and the war were brought to a conclu- 
 sion together, by the hoisting of the white flag on 
 the 28th of the following April. Premising this, I 
 shall merely take the liberty of narrating, without 
 regard to dates or natural order, such events and 
 adventures as appeared to myself best deser\dng of 
 record. 
 
 In the first place, then, it may be observed, that 
 whilst on our side of the river no other works were 
 erected than such as appeared absolutely neces^ 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 337 
 
 sary for strengthening our own position, and ren- 
 dering the bridge, and the high road, and the stores 
 brought up by them, safe from molestation, the 
 Guards and Germans on the other side were bu- 
 sily employed in digging trenches, and in push- 
 ing forward active operations against the citadel. 
 These, as may be imagined, they were not permit- 
 ted to carry on without being annoyed, in every 
 practicable manner, by the besieged. A continual, 
 or rather a dropping and irregular fire of cannon, 
 was kept up upon their parties from the ramparts, 
 to which even the darkness of the night brought 
 no cessation ; for blue lights were ever and anon 
 thrown out where the people were at work, by 
 the flame of which the artillery-men were guided 
 in taking their aim ; nor were we Avholly exempt 
 from that species of entertainment. On the con- 
 trary, as the erection of a three-gun battery on 
 the top of our hill was deemed necessary, we work- 
 ed at it by turns till it was completed ; and, as a 
 matter of course, we worked under the fire of all 
 the cannon and mortars which could be brousfht 
 to bear upon us. These working parties are by 
 far the most unpleasant of all the employments to 
 which a soldier is liable. There is in them no- 
 thing of excitement, with a great deal of danger ; 
 and danger, where there is no excitement, no man 
 would voluntarily choose to incur, for its o^m 
 
338 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 sake. Let me describe one of these mornings' 
 amusements. 
 
 It fell to my lot frequently to superintend the 
 people when at work. The spot on which we la- 
 boured was high, and therefore completely expo- 
 sed to the view of the enemy. It was the top of 
 the hill opposite to them. Immediately on our ar- 
 rivalj a four-gun battery, with one howitzer, and 
 two nine-inch mortars, began to play upon us. 
 They were admirably served, and the balls hit ap- 
 parently in every quarter, excepting tha particular 
 spots on which each of us stood. On such occa- 
 sions, if there be no very pressing demand for the 
 completion of the work, you generally station one 
 of your party to watch the enemy. As soon as 
 he perceives a flash, he calls out — " Shot," or 
 " Shell," as the case may be. If it be simply a 
 cannon-shot, you either toil on without heeding it, 
 or, having covered yourselves as well as you can 
 till the ball strike, you start up again, and seize 
 your tools. If it be a shell, you lie quite still till 
 it burst. The un military reader may perhaps ques- 
 tion whether it be possible to tell the nature of the 
 missile which is coming against you, when as yet 
 it has barely escaped from the muzzle of the gun, 
 and is still a mile or two distant ; but he who has 
 been in the habit of attending to these matters will 
 entertain no such doubt. Not to mention the fact. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 339 
 
 that an experienced eye can trace, by means of the 
 burning fuze, the whole journey of a shell througli 
 the air, from its expulsion till its fall ; the more 
 perpendicular flight of the smoke may of itself in- 
 form him who watches it when it issues from a 
 mortar ; whilst there is a sharpness in the report 
 of a gun which the firing of a mortar produces not, 
 and which will effectually distinguish the one from 
 the other, even if the sense of siglit should fail. I 
 have heard men assert, that they can trace not 
 only a shell, but a cannon-ball througli the air. 
 This may be possible ; but if it be, it is possible 
 only to those whose sense of siglit is far more acute 
 than mine. 
 
 Though abundantly annoying, it is really w^on- 
 derful how harmless this cannonade proved, con- 
 tinued, as it was continued, day after day, during 
 the course of several weeks. I do not believe that 
 it cost us, in all, above five men. Neither were the 
 enemy more successful in an attempt which they 
 made to harass us by throwing shells into the 
 camp. As our tents were hidden from their view, 
 they, of course, fired at random, and their ammu- 
 nition was wasted ; but the sound of shells falling 
 around us, both by night and day, was not exact- 
 ly the kind of music which we should have select- 
 ed. We became, however, accustomed to it, so as 
 in a great degi-ee to disregard it ; even the dogs, 
 
340 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 I 
 
 which at first woukl run up and apply their noses 
 to each as it alighted, gradually ceased to take any 
 notice of them, till the enemy guessing, or per- 
 haps judging, from the absence of all commotion 
 amongst us, that their fire was not very destruc- 
 tive, gradually omitted, and at last left it off. 
 
 Unless my memory greatly deceive me, the chief 
 subject of complaint amongst us was, that we were 
 fettered to one spot, and that, without there being 
 in our situation enough of peril, or of excitation, 
 to hinder us from feeling the confinement as a re- 
 straint. Though tolerably secure, from the very 
 nature of the ground, our post was one of vast im- 
 portance ; that is to say, had the enemy succeeded 
 in forcing it, they might have easily made their 
 way to the bridge ere any fresh troops could be 
 brought to oppose them. Under these circum- 
 stances, it was considered imprudent to wander 
 far, or frequently, from the tents ; and hence even 
 the resource of fishing and shooting was, in a great 
 measure, denied to those who would have gladly 
 availed themselves of it. My friend and I did, 
 indeed, occasionally venture into the woods ; but 
 these excursions were too rare to be very profita- 
 ble, and our limits too confined to furnish an abun- 
 dance of game. 
 
 All our days and all our nights were not, how- 
 ever, of the same tame character. Independently 
 
CHAPTER XXII 1, 341 
 
 of the usual round of out-post duty, (a duty which, 
 to me at least, was never irksome, because it al- 
 ways served to keep my interest awake,) a desert- 
 er would, from time to time, come over, and bring 
 with him rumours of sorties intended. One of 
 them I particularly recollect as having in it a more 
 than ordinary degree of excitement. We were sit- 
 ting one Sunday evening, Gray and myself, in the 
 upper loft of an old mill, where, by way of an in- 
 dulgence, we had established ourselves ; our com- 
 manding officer had read prayers to the battalion 
 about half an hour before, and the parade had just 
 been dismissed, when a serjeant clambered up the 
 ladder to inform us, that the servants and bat- 
 men were commanded to sleep accoutred ; that the 
 horses were to be saddled, and the baggage in readi- 
 ness to move, at a moment's notice. On inquiring 
 the cause of this order, we learned, that a French 
 officer had arrived in the camp, that he had brought 
 with him intelligence that a sally would certainly 
 take place a little before midnight ; and that the 
 garrison were already making preparations for the 
 attack. As may be supposed, we put everything in 
 a proper trim forthwith ; and having seen that our 
 men lay down, with knapsacks buckled up, and 
 pouches and bayonets slung on, we, too, threw our- 
 selves on the floor, in our clothes. 
 
 It might be about eleven o'clock, when we were 
 
342 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 startled from our repose by the firing of cannon. 
 The sound was, however, distant; it evidently 
 came from the opposite side of the river, and it 
 was followed by no musketry. We watched it, 
 therefore, for a while, anxiously enough, and sat 
 up prepared to issue forth as soon as our presence 
 might be wanted. But no bugle sounded, nor was 
 any other summons given ; so we lay down again, 
 and the night passed by in peace. I have reason to 
 believe, however, that the French officer deceived 
 us not. An attack upon our position had been se- 
 riously intended, and the plan was abandoned, 
 only, because this very officer being missed, it was 
 conjectured that we should be fully prepared to 
 repel it. 
 
 Another little aifair took place soon after. Whe- 
 ther our advanced posts on the left of Anglette 
 had been, of late, pushed somewhat more in ad- 
 vance than formerly, I cannot tell ; but the ene- 
 my sent a message, one morning, by a flag of 
 truce, to the officer in command, desiring that he 
 would fall back, otherwise they would compel him. 
 To such a message a direct refusal was the reply ; 
 and they having allowed him an hour to change 
 his mind, proceeded, at the expiration of that time, 
 to carry their threat into execution. A consider- 
 able body of light troops attacked the post, and a 
 sharp skirmish ensued. The sound of firing soon 
 
CHAinER XXIII. 343 
 
 drew assistance to our piquet ; and the result was, 
 that the French once more retired within their 
 works, lea\ing us in possession of the disputed 
 ground. This event, with many others which I 
 have not recorded, because they have in them even 
 less of interest, occurred during the remaining 
 days of February, and the whole of March. On 
 the first of April our position was changed, and 
 we took, from that period, a more active part in 
 the conduct of the siege. 
 
 The change of ground to which I now allude, 
 proved, at least for a day or two, extremely agree- 
 able to the corps in general. My friend and my- 
 self had indeed, as I have already stated, fixed our 
 abode in an old mill close to the camp, and yet 
 sufficiently apart from it to be freed from the bus- 
 tle. It was a ruinous and dilapidated mansion, I 
 admit ; our li^dng and sleeping chamber consisting 
 simply of one half of a loft ; and only of one half, 
 because the flooring of the other half had given 
 way ; to which we ascended by means of a ladder 
 or trap-stair, and from which we looked down 
 upon our horses and mules that occupied the base- 
 ment story. But in that old mill, the tiling of 
 which was unsealed, and can hardly be said to 
 have been proof against the weatlier, I spent some 
 weary and many more pleasant evenings, whilst, 
 Tuinous as it was, it appeared comfortable to men 
 
344 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 who repaired to it from the sandy gi'ound on which 
 they had previously spent several days and nights, 
 under cover of the canvass. Though therefore I 
 cannot accuse myself of murmuring at the remo- 
 val of the camp, it is quite certain that I partook 
 not in the general rejoicing which the occurrence 
 produced among my comrades ; or that the beauty 
 of the spot, to which my tent was transferred, at 
 all compensated for the loss of a boarded floor, and 
 a detached habitation. 
 
 It was, however, a delightful change to the ma- 
 jority. During the last week or ten days, the heat 
 of the sun had become exceedingly oppressive, 
 beating, as it did, through the white canvass, and 
 having its rays reflected back, on all hands, from 
 a grey sandy soil. Not a tree grew near to shelter 
 us ; nor was there a blade of grass within sight, 
 on which the weary eye could repose. On the 1st 
 of April we retired about a couple of miles, into 
 the heart of a pine-wood, and left the sand hill to 
 be guarded by the piquets alone. Our tents were 
 pitched in a sweet little green vale, overshadowed 
 with the dark foliage of the fir trees ; and near the 
 margin of a small lake or pond of clear water. 
 Here we remained in a state of comparative idle- 
 ness and enjoyment for three days ; running and 
 leaping, and causing the men to run and leap, for 
 rewards ; till an order arrived in the evening of 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 345 
 
 the Sd, that we should be under arms at day-break 
 on the morrow, and cross the bridge, to take part 
 in the fatigues and dangers of the trenches. 
 
 At an early hour on the 4th, we formed into 
 marching order, and took the direction of the 
 bridge. This we crossed, the planks waving and 
 bending beneath lis, as the cables to which they 
 were fastened swung to and fro with our tread, 
 and then filing to the right, we halted in an open 
 field above the village of Boucaut, where the ground 
 of encampment was marked out. It was a day of 
 heavy rain, so we were thoroughly saturated by 
 the way ; and as several hours elapsed ere the bag- 
 gage came up, we were compelled to continue in 
 that uncomfortable plight all the while. It came 
 at length, however, and our tents were pitched ; 
 after which, having substituted dry for wet appa- 
 rel, I spent the rest of the evening in lounging 
 among the numerous stalls and booths which sur- 
 rounded the market-place. 
 
 The village of Boucaut presented at this period 
 a curious spectacle. It was not deserted by its in- 
 habitants ; all, or the greater number, of whom 
 remained quietly in their houses. Their little 
 shops were not closed ; the inns, for there were 
 two in the place, so far from being abandoned, 
 were continually crowded with customers; cooks, 
 waiters, landlady, and mine host, were all in mo- 
 
 p 2 
 
^46 THE StBALTERN. 
 
 tion from morning till night ; whilst the country 
 people came in in crowds, with eggs, butter, cheese, 
 poultry, and other luxuries. These articles of mer- 
 chandize were exposed for sale in the centre of the 
 market-place, a large square, surrounded by lofty 
 walls ; whilst along the sides of these walls, sut- 
 lers' tents, porter booths, confectioners' stalls, and 
 even tables loaded with hardware, shoes, stock- 
 ings, &c., were laid out in regular order. The 
 place was, moreover, full of people, soldiers, camp 
 followers, villagers, peasants, male and female ; 
 and much laughing and much merriment prevail- 
 ed in every direction. To a mere spectator, there 
 was constant food for amusement ; in the fruitless 
 endeavours of an English soldier, for example, to 
 make love to a pretty French girl — or, in the vain 
 efforts of a staid German to overreach some vola- 
 tile, but mercenary villager — whilst the ceaseless 
 gabbling in all European tongues — the attempts 
 made on all hands to carry on by signs that con- 
 versation to which the faculty of speech lent no 
 assistance, — to watch these, and a thousand other 
 extravagances, furnished ample and very agreeable 
 employment to one who was willing to find amuse- 
 ment where he could. Yet, with all this apparent 
 confusion, the greatest regularity prevailed. Not 
 a single instance of violence to a native, either in 
 person or property, occurred; indeed, both men 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 347 
 
 and women scrupled not to assure us, that they felt 
 themselves far more secure under our protection, 
 than they had been whilst their own countrymen 
 were among them. 
 
 It was our business, whilst the camp stood here, 
 to march up every morning to the front, and to 
 work, in turns, at the erection of batteries and re- 
 doubts, within half-musket-shot of the walls of tlie 
 citadel. The spot where I invariably found my- 
 self stationed, when my turn of duty came round, 
 was a chateau, situated upon the brow of an emi- 
 nence ; from the windows and garden of which I 
 obtained a distinct view of one flank of the castle. 
 Upon this building an incessant fire of round shot, 
 shells, grape, and occasionally of musketry, was 
 kept up. The enemy had upon their walls a num- 
 ber of long swivel guns, which they could elevate 
 or depress, or turn in any direction, at will ; and 
 with which as perfect an aim could be taken as 
 witli an ordinary fusee. These threw, with great 
 force, iron balls of about a quarter of a pound 
 weight. Beside them men were always stationed, 
 who watched our movements so closely, that it was 
 impossible to show so much as your head at a win- 
 dow, or over the wall, without being saluted by a 
 shot, whilst ever and anon a nine-inch shell would 
 tumble through the roof, and burst sometimes be- 
 fore we had time to escape into another apartment. 
 
348 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 — Then the crashing of the cannon balls as thejr 
 rushed through the partitions — the occasional rat- 
 tle of grape and cannister, which came pouring in 
 by the windows — all these things combined produ- 
 ced a species of feeling, of which no words can con- 
 vey an adequate notion to him who has not expe- 
 rienced it. It was not terror, it can hardly be call- 
 ed alarm — for we followed our occupations un- 
 ceasingly, and cA^en our mirth was uninterrupted; 
 but it kept the mind wound up to a pitch of exci- 
 tation, from which it was by no means an unplea- 
 sant matter to relieve it. 
 
 Ours was a mortar battery. It was formed by 
 heaping up earth against the interior of the garden 
 wall, and proceeded with great rapidity. We like- 
 wise cut down trees, and constructed out of their 
 branches fascines and gabions ; but we had nothing 
 to do in the trenches. Of these, indeed, not more 
 than a couple were dug ; the uneven nature of the 
 ground producing numerous valleys and hollows, 
 which saved us a great deal of toil, and very suf- 
 ficiently supplied their place. 
 
 Besides working parties, it came occasionally to 
 my turn to command a piquet. The post of which 
 I was put in charge, was the village of St Etienne, 
 and the church formed the head-quarters of the 
 guard. It was a small building, but, fortunately 
 for us, constructed with great solidity, inasmuch 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 349 
 
 as it stood under the very muzzles of half-a-dozen 
 field-pieces, which the enemy had placed in a re- 
 doubt about a short stone's throw distant. To add 
 to its strength, and to render it more tenable in 
 case of an attack, an embankment of earth — of 
 earth carried from the churchyard, and so mixed 
 with the mouldering bones of " the rude fore- 
 fathers of the village," was raised inside, to the 
 height of perhaps four feet ; above which ran a 
 line of loop-holes, cut out for the purpose of giving 
 to its garrison an opportunity of firing with effect 
 upon their assailants. When I say that the church 
 formed the head-quarters of the guard, I mean 
 that the guard took up its station there during the 
 night. Whilst daylight lasted, it kept itself as 
 much as possible concealed behind a few houses in 
 the rear of the building, and left only a single 
 sentinel there to watch the movements of the 
 enemy. 
 
 A little to the right of my post was a couple of 
 barricades ; the one cutting off the main road, the 
 other blocking up the entrance to a cross-street in 
 the village. Beside these respectively stood a six- 
 pounder gun. They were, I should conceive, about 
 pistol-shot from the walls of the castle, and form- 
 ed our most advanced stations. — Our sentinels 
 again ran through the churchyard and streets, 
 winding away by the right and left, as the shape 
 
350 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 of the place required; and they were planted as 
 diose to one another as the occurrence of trees, or 
 other species of cover, would permit. For the 
 French were no longer the magnanimous enemy 
 which we had found them in the open field. Every 
 man, no matter whether a sentry or a lounger, 
 who could he seen, was fired at ; nor could the or- 
 dinary reliefs proceed as in other situations they 
 had been wont to proceed. No corporal's party 
 could march round here, but the men themselves 
 stole up, one by one, to the particular spots allot- 
 ted to them, whilst those whom they came to re- 
 lieve stole away after a similar fashion. Yet even 
 thus, we seldom returned to the camp without 
 bringing a wounded man or two back with us, or 
 leaving a dead comrade behind. 
 
 At night, again, the very utmost vigilance was 
 necessary. The enemy were so close to us, that 
 the slightest carelessness on our part would have 
 given them free and secure access through our 
 diain, whilst that very proximity rendered it ut- 
 terly impracticable for the videttes to give suffi- 
 cient warning to men who should not be at every 
 moment in a state of preparation. No man slept, 
 or so much as lay down. The privates stood round 
 the embankment within the church, as if they had 
 been all on watch, whilst the officer crept about 
 from place to place in front of it, or listened, with 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 351 
 
 deep anxiety, to every sound. In tliese wander- 
 ings, the conversation of the French soldiers could 
 be distinctly overheard, so near were the troops of 
 the two nations to each other ; and so perilous, or 
 rather so momentous, was the duty which we were 
 called upon to perform. 
 
352 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 The blockade of Bayonne being now decidedly 
 converted into a siege, Sir John Hope very justly 
 determined, that every brigade of British and Por- 
 tuguese troops — in other words, every brigade upon 
 which he could at all depend — should take by turns 
 a share in the fatigue and danger attendant upon 
 the progress of operations. The tour of duty al- 
 lotted to each was accordingly fixed at three days. 
 In consequence of this arrangement, we, who had 
 assumed the care of the works and outposts on the 
 4th, were relieved on the evening of the 7 th; and 
 at an early hour on the morning of the 8th, once 
 more turned our faces in the direction of the pine- 
 wood. The tents which we had pitched in the vi- 
 cinity of Boucaut were not, however, struck. These 
 we left standing for the benefit of a brigade of Por- 
 tuguese, which crossed the river to succeed us ; 
 and hence, instead of halting where we had for- 
 merly sojourned, beside the pond, and under the 
 shadow of the fir-trees, we pushed on as far as the 
 outskirts of Anglette. The morning of the 8th 
 chanced to be uncommonly dark and foggy. It so 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 353 
 
 happened, moreover, that a man, who had got 
 drunk upon duty the night before, was doomed to 
 suffer punishment, as early as circumstances would 
 allow, and the battalion having readied what was 
 supposed to be its ground, formed square in a green 
 field for the purpose. Partly in consequence of 
 the density of the fog, which rendered all objects 
 at the distance of fifty yards invisible, and partly 
 because the country was altogether new to us, we 
 lost our way. Our astonishment may therefore 
 be conceived, when, on the clearing away of the 
 mist, we found ourselves drawn up within less 
 than point-blank range of the enemy's guns, and 
 close to the most advanced of our own sentinels in 
 this part of the line. 
 
 For a moment or two we were permitted to con- 
 tinue thus unmolested, but not longer. The breast- 
 works in front of us were speedily lined with in- 
 fantry ; mounted officers arrived and departed at 
 full speed ; a few field-pieces being hurried through 
 a sally-port, were posted upon the exterior of the 
 glacis ; and then a sharp cannonade began. It 
 was quite evident that the enemy expected an as- 
 sault ; and the accidental appearance of two other 
 British brigades, which chanced at the moment to 
 pass each other in our rear, added strength, with- 
 out doubt, to that expectation. The scene was 
 highly animating ; but the enemy's guns were too 
 
354 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 well served to permit our continuing long specta- 
 tors of it, A ball or two striking in the centre of 
 the square warned us to withdraw ; and as we 
 were clearly in a situation where we were never 
 meant to be, as well as because no act of hostility 
 was on our part intended, we scrupled not to take 
 the hint, and to march somewhat more to the rear. 
 There a certain number of houses was allotted to 
 us, and we again found ourselves, for the space of 
 four days, under cover of a roof. 
 
 We were thus situated, when a messenger ex- 
 traordinary arrived at the quarters of the com- 
 manding officer, about midnight on the 11th of 
 April, with intelligence that the allies were in pos- 
 session of Paris, and that Buonaparte had abdica- 
 ted. It would be difficult to say what was the ef- 
 fect produced upon us by the news. Amazement — 
 utter amazement — was the first and most power- 
 ful sensation excited. We could hardly credit the 
 story ; some of us even went so far for a while 
 as to assert, that the thing was impossible. Then 
 came the thought of peace, of an immediate ces- 
 sation of hostilities, and a speedy return to our 
 friends and relatives in England ; and last, though 
 not with the least permanent influence, sprang up 
 the dread of reduction to half-pay. For the pre- 
 sent, however, we rather rejoiced than otherwise 
 at the prospect of being delivered from the irk- 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 355 
 
 some and incessant labour of a siege ; and we an- 
 ticipated with satisfaction a friendly intercourse 
 with the brave men against whom we had so long 
 fought, without entertaining one rancorous feeling 
 towards them. I fear, too, that the knowledge of 
 what had passed in Paris, caused some diminution 
 in the watchfulness which we had hitherto preser- 
 ved ; at least, I cannot account upon any other 
 principle for the complete surprisal of our out- 
 posts in the village of St Etienne, a few nights 
 after. 
 
 The messenger who conveyed this intelligence 
 to us went on to say, that Sir John had dispatched 
 a flag of truce to inform the Governor of Bayonne 
 that there was no longer war between the French 
 and English nations. General Thouvenot, how- 
 ever, refused to credit the statement. He had re- 
 ceived, he said, no official communication from 
 Marshal Soult; and as he considered himself under 
 the immediate command of that officer, even a dis- 
 patch from the capital would have no weight with 
 him, unless it came backed by the authority of his 
 superior. Under these circumstances, no proposals 
 were made on either side to cease from hostilities, 
 though on ours the troops were henceforth exempt- 
 ed from the labour of erecting batteries, in which 
 it was very little probable that guns would ever 
 be mounted. In other respects, however, things 
 
356 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 continued as they had pre^dously been. The piquets 
 took their stations as usual ; all communication be- 
 tween the garrison and the open country was still 
 cut off, and several families of the inhabitants, who 
 sought to pass through our lines, were compelled 
 to return into the town. This last measure was 
 adopted, as it invariably is adopted when a city is 
 besieged, in order not to diminish the number of 
 persons who must be fed from the stores laid up in 
 the public arsenals. 
 
 Though there was peace in Paris, there was no 
 peace before Bayonne. Our brigade having enjoy- 
 ed its allotted period of rest, accordingly prepared 
 to return to its camp beside Boucaut, for which 
 purpose a line of march was formed on the morn- 
 ing of the 12th ; and we again moved towards the 
 floating-bridge. As yet, however, our services at 
 the out-posts were not required ; and as working 
 parties were no longer in fashion, we spent that 
 and the succeeding day peaceably in our camp. 
 Not that these days were wholly devoid of interest- 
 ing occurrences. During the latter, a French offi- 
 cer arrived from the north, bearing the official ac- 
 counts of those mighty transactions, which once 
 more placed his country under the rule of the Bour- 
 bons ; and him we sent forward to the city, as the 
 best pledge for the truth of our previous statements, 
 and of our present amicable intentions. Still Ge- 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 357 
 
 neral Thouvenot disbelieved, or affected to disbe- 
 lieve, the whole affair ; but he returned an answer 
 by the flag of truce whicli accompanied the aide- 
 de-camp, " that we should hear from him on the 
 subject before long." 
 
 It will be readily believed, that the idea of fu- 
 ture hostilities was not, under all these circum- 
 stances, entertained by any individual of any rank 
 throughout the army. For form's sake, it was as- 
 serted that the blockade must still continue, and 
 the sentinels must still keep their ground ; but that 
 any attack would be made upon them, or any blood 
 uselessly spilled, no man for a moment imagined. 
 The reader may therefore guess at our astonish- 
 ment, when, about three o'clock in tlie morning of 
 the 14th, we were suddenly awoke by a heavy 
 firing in front ; and found, on starting up, that a 
 desperate sortie had taken place, and that our pi- 
 quets were warmly engaged along the whole line. 
 Instantly the bugles sounded. We hurried on our 
 clothes and accoutrements, whilst the horses came 
 galloping in from their various stables, and the ser- 
 vants and bat-men busied themselves in packing 
 the baggage ; and then hastily taking our places, 
 we marched towards the point of danger, and were 
 liotly and desperately in action in less than a quar- 
 ter of an hour. 
 
 The enemy had come on in two columns of at- 
 
 1 
 
358 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 tack, one of whicli bore down upon the cliorcli and 
 street of St Etienne, whilst the other, having forced 
 the barricade upon the high road, pressed forward 
 towards the chateau where our mortar- battery was 
 in progress of erection. So skilfully had the sortie 
 been managed, that the sentries in front of both 
 these posts were almost all surprised ere they liad 
 time, by discharging their pieces, to communicate 
 an alarm to those behind them. By this means, 
 and owing to the extreme darkness of the night, 
 the first intimation of danger which the piquets re- 
 ceived was given by the enemy themselves, who, 
 stealing on to the very edge of the trench within 
 which our men were stationed, fired a volley direct- 
 ly upon their heads. In like manner, the Serjeant's 
 guard which stood beside the guns in the village 
 was annihilated, and the gun itself captured ; whilst 
 the party in the church were preserved from a si- 
 miilar fate, only in consequence of the care which 
 had been taken to block up the various door-ways 
 and entrances, so that only one man at a time 
 might make his way into the interior. It was, how- 
 ever, completely surrounded, and placed in a state 
 of siege ; but it was gallantly defended by Captain 
 Forster of the 38th regiment and his men. 
 
 Just before the enemy sallied out, a French ofii- 
 cer, it appeared, had deserted ; but unfortunately 
 he came in through one of the more remote piquets, 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 359 
 
 and hence those which were dcstinccl to receive the 
 shock reaped no benefit from the event. His arri- 
 val at head-quarters had, however, the eifect of 
 putting Sir Jolm Hope on his guard ; and hence 
 greater preparations to meet the threatened dan- 
 ger were going forward tlian we, on whom it came 
 unexpectedly and at once, imagined. A corps of 
 five hundred men, for example, which was daily 
 stationed as a sort of reserve, about a mile in rear 
 of the out-posts, was in full march towards the 
 front when the firing began ; and the enemy were 
 in consequence checked before they had made any 
 considerable progress, or had reached any of our 
 more important magazines. The blue house, as we 
 were in the habit of naming the chateau, was in- 
 deed carried ; and all the piles of fascines and ga- 
 bions, which had cost us so much labour to con- 
 struct, were burned ; but besides this, little real be- 
 nefit would have accrued to the assailants, had the 
 state of affairs been such as to render a battle at 
 this particular juncture at all necessary, or even 
 justifiable. 
 
 Immediately on the alarm bein^ oriven, Sir John 
 Hope, attended by a single aide-de-camp, rode to 
 the front. Tliither also flew Generals Hay, Stop- 
 ford, and Bradford, whilst the various brigades 
 hurried after them, at as quick a pace as the pitchy 
 darkness of the night, and the rugged and broken 
 
360 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 nature of the ground, would permit. Behind them, 
 and on either hand, as they moved, the deepest and 
 most impervious gloom prevailed; but the horizon 
 before them was one blaze of light. I have listen- 
 ed to a good deal of heavy firing in my day ; but a 
 more uninterrupted roar of artillery and musketry 
 than was now going on, I hardly recollect to have 
 witnessed. 
 
 As the attacking party amounted to five or six 
 thousand men, and the force opposed to them fell 
 somewhat short of one thousand, the latter were, 
 of course, losing ground rapidly. The blue house 
 was carried ; the high road, and several lanes that 
 ran parallel with it, were in possession of the ene- 
 my ; the village of St Etienne swarmed with them ; 
 when Sir John Hope arrived at the entrance of a 
 hollow road, for the defence of which a strong party 
 had been allotted. The defenders were in full re- 
 treat. " Why do you move in that direction ?" 
 cried he, as he rode up. " The enemy are yonder, 
 sir," was the reply. " Well then, we must drive 
 them back — come on." So saying, the general 
 spurred his horse. A dense mass of French sol- 
 diers was before him ; they fired, and his horse fell 
 dead. The British piquet, alarmed at the fall of 
 the general, fled ; and Sir John, being a heavy man, 
 — being besides severely wounded in two places, 
 and having one of his legs crushed beneath his 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 3G1 
 
 t 
 
 horse, lay powerless, and at the mercy of the as- 
 sailants. His aide-de-camp, having vainly endea- 
 voured to release him, was urged hy Sir John liim- 
 self to leave him ; and the French pressing on, our 
 gallant leader was made prisoner, and sent bleed- 
 ing: within the walls. 
 
 Of this sad catastrophe none of the troops were 
 at all aware, except those in whose immediate pre- 
 sence it occurred. The rest found ample employ- 
 ment, both for head and hand, in driving back the 
 enemy from their conquests, and in bringing suc- 
 cour to their comrades, whose unceasing lire gave 
 evidence that thev still held out in the church of 
 St Etienne. Towards that point a determined rush 
 was made. The French thronged the street and 
 churchyard, and plied our people with grape and 
 canister from their own captured gun ; but the 
 struggle soon became more close and more fero- 
 cious. Bayonets, sabres, the butts of muskets, were 
 in full play ; and the street was again cleared, tlie 
 barricade recovered, and the gun retaken. But 
 they were not long retained. A fresh charge was 
 made bv increased numbers from the citadel, and 
 our men were again driven back. Numbers threw 
 themselves into the church as they passed, among 
 whom was General Hay ; whilst the rest gradually 
 retired till reinforcements came up, when they re- 
 sumed the offensive, and with the most perfect suc- 
 
 o 
 
362 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 cess. Thus was the street of St Etienne, and the 
 field-piece at its extremity, alternately in posses- 
 sion of the French and allies ; the latter being ta- 
 ken and retaken no fewer than nine times, between 
 the hours of three and seven in the morning. 
 
 Nor was the action less sanguinary in other parts 
 of the field. Along the sides of the various glens, 
 in the hollow ways, through the trenches, and over 
 the barricades, the most deadly strife was carried 
 on. At one moment, the enemy appeared to carry 
 everything before them ; at another, they were 
 checked, broken, and dispersed, by a charge from 
 some battalions of the Guards ; but the darkness 
 was so great that confusion everywhere prevailed, 
 nor could it be ascertained, with any degree of ac- 
 curacy, how matters would terminate. Day at 
 length began to dawn, and a scene was presented 
 of absolute disorder and horrible carnage. Not only 
 were the various regiments of each brigade sepa- 
 rated and dispersed, but the regiments themselves 
 were split up into little parties, each of which was 
 warmly and closely engaged with a similar party 
 of the enemy. In almost every direction, too, our 
 men were gaining ground. The French had gra- 
 dually retrograded ; till now they maintained a 
 broken and irregular line, through the churchyard, 
 and along the ridge of a hill, which formed a sort 
 of natural crest to the glacis. One regiment of 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 363 
 
 Guards, which had retained its order, perceiving 
 this, made ready to complete the defeat. They 
 pushed forward in fine array with the bayonet, and 
 dreadful was the slaughter which took place ere 
 the confused mass of fugitives were sheltered with- 
 in their own gates. In like manner, a dash was 
 made against those who still maintained themselves 
 behind the churchyard wall ; and they, too, with 
 difficulty escaped into the redoubt. 
 
 A battle, such as that which I have just descri- 
 bed, is always attended by a greater proportionate 
 slaughter on both sides, than one more regularly 
 entered into, and more scientifically fought. On 
 our part, nine hundred men had fallen ; on the part 
 of the enemy, upwards of a thousand; and the 
 arena within Avhich they fell was so narrow, that 
 even a veteran would have guessed the number of 
 dead bodies at something greatly beyond this. The 
 street of St Eticnne, in particular, was covered with 
 killed and wounded ; and round the six-pounder 
 they lay in heaps. A Frencli artilleryman liad fallen 
 across it, with a fuse in his hand ; there he lay, his 
 head cloven asunder, and the remains of the handle 
 of the fuse in his grasp. The muzzle and breech of 
 the gun were smeared with blood and brains ; and 
 beside them were several soldiers of both nations, 
 whose heads had evidently been dashed to pieces 
 by the butts of muskets. Arms of all sorts, broken 
 
364 THE SUBALTERN* 
 
 and entire, were strewed about. Among the num- 
 ber of killed on our side was General Hay ; he was 
 shot through one of the loop-holes, in the interior 
 of the church. The wounded, too, were far more 
 than ordinarily numerous ; in a word, it was one 
 of the most hard-fought and unsatisfactory affairs 
 which had occurred since the commencement of 
 the war. Brave men fell, when their fall was no 
 longer beneficial to their country, and much blood 
 was wantonly shed during a period of national 
 peace. 
 
 A truce being concluded between General Col- 
 ville, who succeeded to the command of the be- 
 sieging army, and the Governor of Bayonne, the 
 whole of the 15th was spent in burying the dead. 
 Holes were dug for them in various places, and 
 they were thrown in, not without sorrow and la- 
 mentations, but with very little ceremony. In col- 
 lecting them together, various living men were 
 found, sadly mangled, and hardly distinguishable 
 from their slaughtered comrade^ These were, of 
 course, removed to the hospitals, where every care 
 was taken of them ; but not a few perished from 
 loss of blood ere assistance arrived. It was remark- 
 ed, likewise, by the medical attendants, that a great- 
 er proportion of incurable wounds were inflicted 
 this night than they remembered to have seen. 
 Many had received bayonet- thrusts in vital parts ; 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 365 
 
 one man, I recollect, whose eyes wore both torn 
 from the sockets, and hung over his cheeks ; whilst 
 several were cut in two by round shot, wliich had 
 passed through tlieir bellies, and still left tliem 
 breathing. The hospitals accordingly presented sad 
 spectacles, whilst the shrieks and groans of the in- 
 mates acted with no more cheering effect upon the 
 sense of hearing, than their disfigured countenances 
 and mangled forms acted upon the sense of sight. 
 It is unnecessary to remind tlie reader, that 
 whilst our column of the army was thus engaged 
 before Bayonne, Lord Wellington, following up 
 his success at Orthies, had gained the splendid vic- 
 tory of Toulouse. As an immediate consequence 
 upon that event, the important city of Bourdeaux 
 was taken possession of by Lord Dalhousie, and de- 
 clared for Louis XVin. ; whilst farther conquests 
 were prevented only by the arrival of Colonels Cook 
 and St Simon, the one at the head-quarters of Lord 
 Wellington, the other at those of Marshal Soult. 
 By them official information was conveyed of the 
 great change which liad occurred in the French 
 capital. An armistice between the two generals 
 immediately followed ; and such an order being 
 conveyed to General Thouvenot, as he considered 
 himself bound to obey, a similar treaty was entered 
 into by us and the governor. By the terms of tliat 
 treaty all hostilities were to cease. The two armies 
 
366 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 were still, however, kept apart, nor was any one 
 from our camp allowed to enter Bayonne without 
 receiving a written pass from the adjutant-general. 
 Foraging parties only were permitted to come 
 forth from the place at stated periods, and to col- 
 lect necessaries from any point within a circle of 
 three leagues from the walls. Yet the truce was 
 regarded by both parties, as an armed one. After 
 so late an instance of treachery, we felt no dispo- 
 sition to trust to the word or honour of the French 
 governor; whilst the enemy, guessing, perhaps, 
 that our bosoms burned for revenge, exhibited no 
 symptoms of reposing confidence in us. On each 
 side, therefore, a system of perfect watchfulness 
 continued. We established our piquets, and plant- 
 ed our sentinels, with the same caution and strict- 
 ness as before ; nor was any other difference dis- 
 tinguishable between the nature of those duties 
 now and what it had been a week ago, except that 
 the enemy suffered us to show ourselves without 
 firing upon us. So passed several days, till, on the 
 20th, the war was formally declared to be at an 
 end. 
 
CONCLUSION. 367 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Little now remains for me to add. My tale of 
 war, and its attendant dangers and enjoyments, is 
 told ; and I have nothing left to notice, except a 
 few of the most prominent of tlie adventures which 
 hefell, between the period of my quitting one scene 
 of hostile operations, and my arrival at another. 
 These are quickly narrated. 
 
 Early on the morning of the 28th of April, 1814, 
 the whole of the allied troops encamped around 
 Bayonne, drew up, in A^arious lines, to witness the 
 lioisting of the white flag upon the ramparts of 
 that city. The standards of England, Spain, Por- 
 tugal, and of the Bourbons, already waved toge- 
 ther from the summit of every eminence in our 
 camp. Up to this date, however, the tri-color still 
 kept its place upon the flag-staff of the citadel ; to- 
 day it was to be torn down, and the "drapeau blanc" 
 substituted in its room. To us, no doubt, the spec- 
 tacle promised to be one of triumph and rejoicing ; 
 for we thought of the gigantic exertions of our coun- 
 try, which alone, of all the nations in Europe, had 
 uniformly refused to acknowledge the sovereignty 
 
368 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 of the usurper ; but by the French, it was very diffe- 
 rently regarded. Even among the country-people, 
 not a spark of enthusiasm could be traced ; whilst 
 by the garrison, no secret was made of their abhor- 
 rence of the new state of things, and their undi- 
 minished attachment to their former master. But 
 tliere was no help for it. " La fortune de lag^ierre" 
 said a French officer to me one day, as we talked 
 of these matters ; but he shrugged his shoulders as 
 he spoke, and gave no proof that he was satisfied 
 with its results. 
 
 We had stood in our ranks about an hour, dress- 
 ed in our best attire, and having our muskets 
 loaded with powder onl}^, when a signal-gun was 
 fired from one of the batteries of the town, and a 
 magnificent tri-coloured flag which had hitherto 
 waved proudly in the breeze, was gradually lower- 
 ed. For perhaps half a minute the flag-staff stood 
 bare ; and then a small white standard, dirty, and, 
 if my eyes deceived me not, a little torn, was run 
 up. Immediately the guns from every quarter of 
 the city fired a salute. By such of our people as 
 kept guard at the out-posts that day, it was as- 
 serted that each gun was crammed with sand 
 and mud, as if this turbulent garrison had been re- 
 solved to insult, as far as they could insult, an 
 authority to which they submitted only because 
 they were compelled to submit. On our parts, the 
 
CONCLUSION. 8G9 
 
 salute was answered with a feu-de-jole, from all 
 the infantry, artillery, and gun-boats ; and then a 
 hearty shout being raised, we filed back to our re- 
 spective stations, and dismissed the parade. 
 
 From this period, till the general breaking up of 
 the camp, nothing like friendly or familiar inter- 
 course took place between us and our former ene- 
 mies. We were suffered, indeed, by two at a time, 
 to enter the city with passports, whilst some half- 
 dozen French officers would occasionally wander 
 down to Boucaut, and mingle in the crowd which 
 filled its market-place. But they came with no kind- 
 ly intention. On the contrary, all, our advances 
 were met with haughtiness, and it seemed as if they 
 were anxious to bring on numerous private quar- 
 rels, now that the quarrel between the countries 
 was at an end. Nor were these always refused them. 
 More duels were fought than the world in general 
 knows anything about ; whilst vast numbers were 
 prevented, only by a positive prohibition on the 
 part of the two generals, and a declaration, tliat 
 whoever violated the order would be placed in ar- 
 rest, and tried by a court-martial. 
 
 We were still in our camp by the Adour, when 
 various bodies of Spanish troops passed through 
 on their return from Toulouse to their own coun- 
 try. Than some of these battalions, I never be- 
 held a finer body of men ; and many of them were 
 
 o 2 
 
370 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 as well clothed, armed, and appointed, as any bat- 
 talions in the world. But they were, one and all, 
 miserably oj0&cered. Their inferior officers, in par- 
 ticular, were mean and ungentlemanly in their ap- 
 pearance, and they seemed to possess little or no 
 authority over their men. Yet they were full of 
 boasting, and gave themselves, on all occasions, as 
 many absurd airs, as if their valour had delivered 
 Spain, and dethroned Napoleon ; such is the foolish 
 vanity of human nature. 
 
 Like my companions, I neglected not any op- 
 portunity which was afforded of visiting Bayonne, 
 or of examining the natui;^ of its works. Of the 
 town itself, T need say no more, than that it was 
 as clean and regularly built, as a fortified place can 
 well be ; where the utmost is to be made of a 
 straitened boundary, and houses obtain in alti- 
 tude what may be wanting in the extent of their 
 fronts. Neither is it necessary that I should enter 
 into a minute description of its defences, sufficient 
 notice having been taken of them elsewhere. But 
 of the inhabitants, I cannot avoid remarking, that 
 I found them uncivil and unfriendly in the ex- 
 treme, as if they took their tone from the troops 
 in garrison, who sought not to disguise their cha- 
 grin and disappointment. 
 
 Besides paying occasional visits to the city, much 
 of my time was passed in fishing, and in taking 
 
 9 
 
CONCLUSION. 371 
 
 part in the public amusements which began to be 
 instituted amongst us. The sands, for example, 
 were converted into a race-course, upon wliicli we 
 tried the speed of our horses day after day. Balls 
 were established in the village, which were attend- 
 ed by ladies of all classes, and from all ])arts of 
 the surrounding country ; and, in a word, all the 
 expedients usually adopted by idle men, were 
 adopted by us, to kill time, and make head against 
 ennui. 
 
 Such was the general tenor of my life, from the 
 20th of April, till the 8th of May. On the latter 
 day, the regiment struck its tents, and marched 
 one day's journey to the rear, where it remained 
 in quiet, till the arrival of the order, which sent it 
 first to the neighbourhood of Bourdeaux, and af- 
 terwards to North x\m erica. 
 
 Thus ends the narrative of the adventures of a 
 single year in the life of a Subaltern Officer. What- 
 ever may be thought of it by the public, it has not 
 been compiled without considerable satisfaction 
 by the narrator ; for the year referred to is one on 
 which I now look back, and probably shall ever 
 look back, with the feeling of melancholy satisfac- 
 tion, which invariably accompanies a retrospect of 
 happiness gone by. If ever there existed an en- 
 thusiastic lover of the profession of arras, I believe 
 
372 THE SUBALTERN. 
 
 that I was one ; but the times were unfavourable, 
 and he must live for very little purpose, who knows 
 not that enthusiasm of any kind rarely survives 
 our youth. I loved my profession, as long as it 
 gave full occupation to my bodily and mental 
 powers ; but the peace came, and I loved it no 
 longer. Perhaps, indeed, the kind of feeling which 
 I had taught myself to encourage, was not such 
 as, in the present state of society, any prudent per- 
 son is justified in encouraging ; for I care not to 
 conceal, that the brightest hopes of my boyhood 
 have all faded, and that manhood has produced 
 none capable of taking their place. The friend who 
 shared with me so many dangers and hardships, 
 fell at my side, by the hand of an unworthy enemy. 
 The walk of life which I pursued, for a while, so 
 merrily, has been abandoned ; my sabre hangs 
 rusty upon the wall ; and my poor old faithful dog 
 is gathered to her fathers. She lies under the green 
 sod before my window ; and morning and evening 
 as I walk past her grave, if I shed no tear to her 
 memory, I at least pay to it the tribute of a kind- 
 ly thought. Well, well, all this is as it ought to 
 be ; it is quite right that we should learn the folly 
 of fixing our affections too strongly upon anything 
 in a scene so shifting and uncertain as human life ; 
 and I suspect there are few persons who are not 
 
CONCLUSION. 3T3 
 
 taught that lesson, at least occasionally, long be- 
 fore their prime be past. 
 
 Let it not, however, be supposed, that he who 
 thus expresses himself must therefore be discon- 
 tented with his lot, or that he murmurs against 
 the Providence which has cast it for hira. By no 
 means. If in my new mode of existence there be 
 less of excitement and of wild enjoyment than in 
 my old, at least there is more of calm and quiet 
 gratification. Other ties, likewise, are around me, 
 different in kind, indeed, but not less tender, than 
 those which time has severed; and if there be no- 
 thing in the future calculated to stir up ambitious 
 longing, there is still sufficient to defend against 
 discontent. At all events, I am certain that my 
 present occupations are such as will prove more 
 permanently and vitally beneficial to others, than 
 those which preceded them ; and let me add, tliat 
 a man need not be accused of fanaticism who is 
 con\dnced, that to look back upon a life, not use- 
 lessly spent, is the only thing which will bring him 
 peace at the last. 
 
 But enough of moralizing, when, in the words 
 of our greatest living poet, I wish to such as have 
 Iionoured my tale with a perusal, 
 
 " To each and all, a fair good night. 
 And rosy dreams, and slumbers bright." 
 
 THE END. 
 
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