232 The peninsular sieges were always remarkable for displays of personal intrepidity and adventure. On the 21st, in carrying a parallel across the isthmus, the pipe of a ruined aqueduct was accidentally laid bare. It opened on a long drain, four feet in length, and three feet wide. “Through this dangerous opening Lieutenant Reid of the engineers, a young and zealous officer, crept even to the counterscarp of the horn-work, and finding the passage there closed by a door, returned without an accident. Thirty barrels of powder were placed in this drain and eight feet was stopped with sand-bags, thus forming a globe of compression designed to blow, as through a tube, so much rubbish over the counterscarp as might fill the narrow ditch of the horn-work.”—Napier.
233 “Marshal Soult issued a proclamation in imitation of those spirit-stirring productions by which Napoleon was accustomed to call forth the enthusiastic admiration of his soldiers; but the essential quality calculated to give effect was wanting. When the emperor, by the roll of the drum, called attention to his emphatic words, the troops knew that he would fulfil the promise of leading them to victory, and that knowledge gave effect to the concise but brilliant announcement of his intentions, and what he expected from them. When the Duke of Dalmatia’s proclamation appeared, it was that of an ordinary man, promising more than he could perform, and as such was received by those to whom it was immediately addressed.”—Leith Hay.
“He himself had been repulsed by a far inferior British force at Coruña; had been driven from Oporto, and defeated in the bloody field of Albuera. He was addressing men who had been beaten at Vimiera, beaten at Talavera, beaten at Busaco, beaten at Fuentes d’Onoro, routed at Salamanca, and scattered like sheep at Vitoria. They had been driven from Lisbon into France; and yet the general who had so often been baffled addressed this language to the very troops who had been so often and so signally defeated!”—Southey.
234 In fact, the picket was surprised—the advanced videts upon a height in its front having been overpowered by the heat, had fallen asleep, and thus allowed the French to approach the picket without giving an alarm.
235 “The French gained ground until six o’clock, for the British, shrunk in numbers, also wanted ammunition, and a part of the 82nd, under Major Fitzgerald, were forced to roll down stones to defend the rocks on which they were posted. In this desperate condition Stewart was upon the point of abandoning the mountain entirely, when a brigade of the 7th division, commanded by General Barnes, arrived from Echallar, and that officer, charging at the head of the sixth regiment, drove the French back to the Maya ridge.”—Napier.
236 Riding at full speed, he reached the village of Sorauren, and his eagle-glance detected Clausel’s column in march along the ridge of Zabaldica. Convinced that the troops in the valley of the Lanz must be intercepted by this movement, he sprang from his saddle, and pencilled a note on the parapet of the bridge, directing the troops to take the road to Oricain, and gain the rear of Cole’s position. The scene that followed was highly interesting. “Lord Fitzroy Somerset, the only staff-officer who had kept up with him, galloped with these orders out of Sorauren by one road, the French light cavalry dashed in by another, and the English general rode alone up the mountain to reach his troops. One of Campbell’s Portuguese battalions first descried him, and raised a cry of joy, and the shrill clamour caught up by the next regiments swelled as it run along the line into that stern and appalling shout which the British soldier is wont to give upon the edge of battle, and which no enemy ever heard unmoved. Lord Wellington suddenly stopped in a conspicuous place; he desired that both armies should know he was there; and a double spy who was present pointed out Soult, then so near that his features could be plainly distinguished. The English general, it is said, fixed his eyes attentively upon this formidable man, and speaking as if to himself, said, ‘Yonder is a great commander, but he is a cautious one, and will delay his attack to ascertain the cause of these cheers; that will give time for the 6th division to arrive, and I shall beat him.’ And certain it is that the French general made no serious attack that day.”—Napier.
Twelve British regiments were embattled on the Pyrenees who had fought at Talavera; and there were present not a few who might recall an incident to memory, that would present a striking but amusing contrast Cuesta, examining his battle-ground four years before in lumbering state, seated in an unwieldly coach, and drawn by eight pampered mules; Wellington, on an English hunter, dashing from post to post at headlong speed, and at a pace that distanced the best mounted of his staff.
237 “On the 31st of July, Soult continued retreating, while five British divisions pressed the pursuit vigorously by Roncesvalles, Mayo, and Donna Maria. Nothing could equal the distress of the enemy,—they were completely worn down; and, fatigued and disheartened as they were, the only wonder is, that multitudes did not perish in the wild and rugged passes through which they were obliged to retire. Although rather in the rear of some of the columns, the British light brigades were ordered forward to overtake the enemy; and, wherever they came up, bring them to immediate action. At midnight the bivouacs were abandoned,—the division marched,—and, after nineteen hours’ continued exertions, during which time a distance of nearly forty miles was traversed, over Alpine heights and roads rugged and difficult beyond description, the enemy were overtaken and attacked. A short, but smart affair, ensued. To extricate the tail of the column, and enable the wounded to get away, the French threw a portion of their rear-guard across the river. The rifles instantly attacked the reinforcement,—a general fusilade commenced, and continued until night put an end to the affair, when the enemy retreated over the bridge of Yanzi, and the British pickets took possession of it. Both sides lost many men, and a large portion of French baggage fell into the hands of the pursuing force, who had moved by St. Estevan.
“That night the British light troops lay upon the ground; and next morning moved forward at daybreak. Debouching through the pass at Vera, the hill of Santa Barbara was crossed by the second brigade, while the rifles carried the heights of Echalar, which the French voltigeurs seemed determined to maintain. As the mountain was obscured by a thick fog, the firing had a strange appearance to those who witnessed it from the valley, occasional flashes only being seen, while every shot was repeated by a hundred echoes. At twilight the enemy’s light infantry were driven in; but long after darkness fell, the report of musketry continued; until, after a few spattering shots, a death-like silence succeeded, and told that the last of the enemy had followed their companions, and abandoned the heights to their assailants.”—The Bivouac.
238 “The enemy had no success on any other ground, and were terribly beat after I joined the troops at Sorauren. Their loss cannot be less than 15,000 men, and I am not certain that it is not 20,000 men. We have about 4,000 prisoners. I never saw such fighting as on the 27th and 28th of July, the anniversary of the battle of Talavera, nor such determination as the troops showed.
“I never saw such fighting as we have had here. It began on the 25th, and, excepting the 29th, when not a shot was fired, we had it every day till the 2nd. The battle of the 28th was fair bludgeon work. The 4th division was principally engaged; and the loss of the enemy was immense. Our loss has likewise been very severe, but not of a nature to cripple us.”—Letter to Lord William Bentinck, Lisaca, 5th August, 1813.
239 On the night of the 28th, Soult took the precaution of sending his artillery into France, or there is no doubt that many of his guns would have been added to the immense parc already captured from Joseph at Vitoria.
240 “The peculiarity of the prospect was heightened by a long train of Spaniards, carrying officers and soldiers to the rear, who had been wounded in the late engagements, and who were always removed to proper hospitals as soon as it could be done with safety.
“The care of the sick and wounded necessarily employed a number of men; and they could nowhere receive such able attention as in the general hospitals established within the Spanish frontiers.
“The rugged mountain-road was not passable for spring-waggons, on which the wounded are usually conveyed to the rear, and they were therefore carried in blankets fastened at the sides to a couple of poles, and thus borne on the shoulders of the peasantry.
“This mode of conveyance on bad roads is far preferable to that of spring-waggons; but, as it required four men to carry one sick person, the transport of the small number of them gave the train a formidable appearance when seen extended for so great a length along the windings of the mountain track.”—Batty.
241 “The Bivouac.”
242 “Sailors were employed in constructing batteries, and never did men more thoroughly enjoy their occupation.
“They had double allowance of grog, as their work required; and at their own cost they had a fiddler; they who had worked their spell in the battery, went to relieve their comrades in the dance; and at every shot which fell upon the castle they gave three cheers.”
243 “The French lost many men by our spherical case-shot; and they attempted to imitate what they had found so destructive, by filling common shells with small balls, and bursting them over the heads of the besiegers; but these were without effect.”
244 “Men were now invited to volunteer for the assault, such men, it was said, ‘as knew how to shew other troops how to mount a breach.’ When this was communicated to the fourth division, which was to furnish four hundred men, the whole moved forward.”—Southey.
245 “A mortar battery was erected to shell the castle from across the bay,—while a storm of round and case shot was maintained so vigorously, that in a short time the fire of the enemy was nearly silenced.”
In a tempest of thunder, lightning, and rain, and amid the uproar of elemental fury, three mines, loaded with sixteen hundred pounds of powder, were sprung by the besiegers, and the sea-wall completely blown down.
246 The storming party was composed of volunteers; and they were given by the light, first, and fourth divisions, the brigades of Hay and Robinson, and the caçadores of General Spry. Robinson’s brigade led the storm, and General Leith commanded the division.
247 “The enemy still held the convent of St. Teresa, the garden of which, enclosed as usual in such establishments with a high wall, reached a good way up the hill toward their upper defences, and from thence they marked any who approached within reach of fire, so that when a man fell, there was no other means of bringing him off than by sending the French prisoners upon this service of humanity.”
“The town presented a dreadful spectacle both of the work of war and of the wickedness which in war is let loose.
“It had caught fire during the assault, owing to the quantity of combustibles of all kinds which were scattered about. The French rolled their shells into it, from the castle, and while it was in flames the troops were plundering, and the people of the surrounding country flocking to profit by the spoils of their countrymen.
“The few inhabitants who were to be seen seemed stupified with horror,—they had suffered so much, that they looked with apathy at all around them, and when the crash of a falling house made the captors run, they scarcely moved.
“Heaps of dead were lying everywhere, English, Portuguese, and French, one upon another; with such determination had the one side attacked and the other maintained its ground.
“Very many of the assailants lay dead on the roofs of the houses which adjoined the breach. The bodies were thrown into the mines and other excavations, and there covered over so as to be out of sight, but so hastily and slightly, that the air far and near was tainted, and fires were kindled in the breaches to consume those which could not be otherwise disposed of.
“The hospital presented a more dreadful scene, for it was a scene of human suffering: friend and enemy had been indiscriminately carried thither, and were there alike neglected. On the third day after the assault, many of them had received neither surgical assistance nor food of any kind, and it became necessary to remove them on the fifth, when the flames approached the building. Much of this neglect would have been unavoidable, even if that humane and conscientious diligence which can be hoped for from so few, had been found in every individual belonging to the medical department, the number of the wounded being so great; and little help could be received from the other part of the army, because it had been engaged in action on the same day.”
248 San Sebastian was won. Would that its horrors had ended with its storm! but the scenes that followed were terrible. The sky became suddenly overcast—thunder was heard above the din of battle—and mortal fury mingled with an elemental uproar. Darkness came on; but houses wrapped in flames directed the licentious soldiery to plunder, and acts of violence still more horrible. The storms of Badajoz and Rodrigo were followed by the most revolting excesses; yet they fell infinitely short of those committed after San Sebastian was carried by assault. “Some order was first maintained, but the resolution of the troops to throw off discipline was quickly made manifest. A British staff officer was pursued with a volley of small arms, and escaped with difficulty from men who mistook him for the provost-martial of the 5th division; a Portuguese adjutant, who endeavoured to prevent some atrocity, was put to death in the market-place, not with sudden violence from a single ruffian, but deliberately by a number of English soldiers. Many officers exerted themselves to preserve order: many men were well-conducted, but the rapine and violence commenced by villains soon spread, the camp-followers crowded into the place, and the disorder continued, until the flames following the steps of the plunderer put an end to his ferocity by destroying the whole town.”
“This storm seemed to be the signal of hell for the perpetration of villany which would have shamed the most ferocious barbarians of antiquity. At Ciudad Rodrigo intoxication and plunder had been the principal object; at Badajoz lust and murder were joined to rapine and drunkenness; but at San Sebastian, the direst, the most revolting cruelty was added to the catalogue of crimes. One atrocity, of which a girl of seventeen was the victim, staggers the mind by its enormous, incredible, indescribable barbarity.”—Napier.
249 “A plunging shot struck the ground near the spot where Sir James was standing, rebounded, struck him on the chest, and laid him prostrate and senseless. The officers near thought that certainly he was killed; but he recovered breath, and then recollection, and, resisting all entreaties to quit the field, continued to issue his orders.”—Southey.
250 “I am quite certain that the use of mortars and howitzers in a siege, for the purpose of what —— calls general annoyance, answers no purpose whatever against a Spanish place occupied by French troops, excepting against the inhabitants of the place; and eventually, when we shall get the place, against ourselves, and the convenience we should derive from having the houses of the place in a perfect state of repair. If —— intended to use his mortars and howitzers against any particular work occupied by the enemy, such as the cavalier, their use would answer his purpose. If he knew exactly where the enemy’s intrenchment was situated, their use might answer his purpose. I say might, because I recollect that, at the siege of Ciudad Rodrigo, our trenches were bombarded by eleven or thirteen large mortars and howitzers for ten days, in which time thirteen thousand shells were thrown, which occasioned us but little loss, notwithstanding that our trenches were always full, and, I may safely say, did not impede our progress for one moment.”—Wellington’s Despatches.
251 General Rey.
252 “On the 10th, the Portuguese were formed in the streets of the ruined city, the British on the ramparts. The day was fine, after a night of heavy rain. About noon the garrison marched out at the Mirador gate. The bands of two or three Portuguese regiments played occasionally, but altogether it was a dismal scene, amid ruins and vestiges of fire and slaughter,—a few inhabitants were present, and only a few.
“Many of the French soldiers wept bitterly; there was a marked sadness in the countenance of all, and they laid down their arms in silence. The commandant of the place had been uniformly attentive to the officers who had been prisoners. When this kindness was now acknowledged, he said that he had been twice a prisoner in England; that he had been fifty years in the service, and on the 15th of the passing month he should have received his dismission; he was now sixty-six, he said, an old man, and should never serve again; and if he might be permitted to retire into France, instead of being sent into England, he should be the happiest of men. Sir Thomas Graham wrote to Lord Wellington in favour of the kind-hearted old man, and it may be believed that the application was not made in vain.
“Captain Saugeon was recognized at this time, who, on the day of the first assault, had descended the breach to assist our wounded. These, said he, pointing, ‘are the remains of the brave 22nd;—we were two hundred and fifty the other day, now no more than fifty are left.’ Lord Wellington, upon being informed of his conduct, sent him to France. Eighty officers and one thousand seven hundred and fifty-six men were all the remains of the garrison, and of these twenty-five officers and five hundred and twelve men were in the hospital.”
“The French general continuing obstinate, a flight of shells, exactly at the hour indicated, following each other in rapid succession, was perceived sailing through the firmament. In the darkness that prevailed, nothing could be more fallacious than the impression created, as our eyes followed them, by the fusees in their rotatory motion. Instead of passing through the air with the velocity and impetus they in reality possessed, in appearance they were majestically and slowly pursuing their course.”—Leith Hay.
253 At noon, the French garrison marched out of the castle gate with the customary honours of war. “At its head, with sword drawn, and firm step, appeared General Rey, accompanied by Colonel Songeon, and the officers of his staff; as a token of respect, we saluted him as he passed. The old general dropped his sword in return to the civilities of the British officers, and leading the remains of his brave battalions to the glacis, there deposited their arms, with a well-founded confidence of having nobly done his duty, and persevered to the utmost in an energetic and brilliant defence.”—Leith Hay.
254 “The best of the story is, that all parties ran away. Maurice Mathieu ran away; Sir John Murray ran away; and so did Suchet. He was afraid to strike at Sir John Murray without his artillery, and knew nothing of Maurice Mathieu; and he returned into Valencia either to strike at the Duque del Parque, or to get the assistance of Harispe, whom he had left opposed to the Duque del Parque. I know that in his first proclamation to his army on their success, he knew so little what had passed at Tarragona, that he mentioned the English General having raised the siege, but not his having left his artillery. He could therefore have had no communication with the place when he marched; and he must have known of the raising of the siege afterwards only by the reports of the country.”—Wellington’s Despatches.
255 “The valley through which this boundary river passes, may justly be considered as affording some of the most romantic and beautiful scenery, perhaps, in all Europe, uniting, in a remarkable degree, the various characters of the sublime, the beautiful, and the picturesque. At every bend of the river, the road along its banks brings us suddenly on some new and striking feature. The pleasing combination of wood and rock, overhanging the beautifully winding stream, contrasted with the barren grandeur of the mountain summits which tower above them, present an infinite number of delightful prospects. The oak, the chestnut, and the walnut are the most conspicuous trees along the valley and the slopes of the inferior hills; whilst among the crevices of the rocks, the evergreen box-tree grows with surprising luxuriance, and by its deep verdure relieves, while it contrasts in a very beautiful manner, the bright silver tints of the surrounding rocks, clothed with lichens.
“A small chapel stands on this hill, and the French fortified it, and continued the line of intrenchments from thence to the sea. The most vulnerable points of the enemy’s position, if any might be called so on this part of his line, were strengthened by abbatis; and as the country was well wooded, and had numerous orchards, these defences were multiplied upon every part of his line. The cutting down of whole rows of orchard-trees was a serious evil to the unfortunate inhabitants, who, however, had almost to a man fled the country.
“The buildings, though thinly scattered over the country, are picturesque, and, like most of the Spanish houses, have large projecting roofs. Glazed windows are rarely seen, shutters being almost everywhere the substitute. There are but few vineyards in this vicinity, excepting on the slopes of Jaysquibel, near Fontarabia, but about the houses the vine is everywhere reared. The inhabitants are a strong and well-proportioned race, having jet-black hair, black eyes, and deep brown complexions. The women, many of them tall and with handsome features, wear their hair in a huge plait, which hangs down the back below the waist; but neither sex were observed to have those “ears of uncommon size” which Buffon says Nature has given to the inhabitants of the banks of the Bidassao.
“The evenings generally were remarkably beautiful: the splendid colouring of the immense amphitheatre of mountains in the glowing rays of sunset, is beyond description.”—Batty.
256 When Downie’s brigade betrayed a dangerous indecision, and declined to go forward, “there happened to be present an officer of the 43rd regiment, named Haverlock, who being attached to General Alten’s staff, was sent to ascertain Giron’s progress. His fiery temper could not brook the check. He took off his hat, he called upon the Spaniards to follow him, and putting spurs to his horse, at one bound cleared the abbatis and went headlong amongst the enemy. Then the soldiers, shouting for ‘El chico blanco,’ the fair boy,—so they called him, for he was very young and had light hair—with one shock broke through the French, and this at the very moment when their centre was flying under the fire of Kemp’s skirmishers from the Puerto-de-Vera.”—Napier.
257 In October, the garrison were put upon an allowance of four ounces of horseflesh each man. In a week that too failed; every domestic animal had been consumed; rats were eagerly sought for, and weeds supplied the place of vegetables. A feeble sally was made upon the 10th, but it was repulsed with a loss of eighty men. Disease generally accompanies famine—scurvy broke out—a thousand men were reported to be in the hospital, as many were wounded, and death and desertion had lessened the garrison by six hundred. In these desperate circumstances, Cassan, the governor, sent out to offer a surrender, provided he was allowed to retire into France with six pieces of artillery. A peremptory rejection of this condition was followed by a proposition that the soldiers should not serve for a year. This, too, being refused, it was intimated to the Spanish general, that after blowing up the works, Cassan would imitate Brennier, and trust to fortune and gallantry for the deliverance of his exhausted garrison. This proceeding on the part of the French governor was so repugnant to the rules of war, that a letter was conveyed to his advanced post, denouncing the attempt as inhuman, involving in a desperate experiment the destruction of unfortunate beings who had already borne the horrors of a siege, with an assurance that, should it be attempted, the governor and officers would be shot, and the private soldiers decimated. Most probably the threat of mining the city had been merely used to obtain more favourable terms, and neither the abominable experiment was made, nor the terrible retaliation which would have followed was required. On the 31st the garrison surrendered, and the finest fortress on the Peninsula became thus a bloodless conquest.
258 “The cattle brought for the consumption of the troops through a great part of Spain, arrived in a jaded and lean condition—those who lived to reach the place of slaughter—for the roads along which they had been driven might easily be traced by their numerous carcasses, lying half-buried or unburied by the way-side—sad proofs of the wasteful inhumanity of war! The weather had been more stormy than was usual even on that coast and at that season. The transports at Passages were moored stem and stem in rows, and strongly confined by their moorings; yet they were considered in danger even in that land-locked harbour: some were driven forward by the rising of the swell, while others, close alongside, were forced backwards by its fall, so that the bowsprits of some were entangled in the mizen-chains of others. The cold on the mountains was so intense, that several men perished. A picket in the neighbourhood of Roncesvalles was snowed up: the parties who were sent to rescue it drove bullocks before them as some precaution against the danger of falling into chasms, and the men were brought off; but the guns could not be removed, and were buried under the snow in the ditch of the redoubt.”—Southey.
259 “The successful result of the battle was owing in no inconsiderable degree to the able direction of the artillery under Colonel Dickson. Guns were brought to bear on the French fortifications from situations which they considered totally inaccessible to that arm.
“Mountain guns on swivel carriages, harnessed on the backs of mules purposely trained for that service, ascended the rugged ridges of the mountains, and showered destruction on the intrenchments below. The foot and horse-artillery displayed a facility of movement which must have astonished the French, the artillerymen dragging the guns with ropes up steep precipices, or lowering them down to positions from whence they could with more certain aim pour forth their fatal volleys against the enemy.”—Batty.
260 During the short term of inaction which the inclemency of the weather had occasioned, one of those periods of conventional civility which not unfrequently occurred during the Peninsular campaigns, took place between the French and allied outposts. “A disposition,” says Quartermaster Surtees, “had for some time been gaining ground with both armies, to mitigate the miseries of warfare, as much as was consistent with each doing their duty to their country; and it had by this time proceeded to such an extent, as to allow us to place that confidence in them that they would not molest us, even if we passed their outposts.”
Lord Wellington, however, discountenanced those friendly relations, where the arrangements were so perfectly amicable, that the parties not only took charge of love letters, but even “plundered in perfect harmony.”
“Before this order was issued, the most unbounded confidence subsisted between us, and which it was a pity to put a stop to, except for such weighty reasons. They used to get us such things as we wanted from Bayonne, particularly brandy, which was cheap and plentiful; and we in return gave them occasionally a little tea, of which some of them had learned to be fond. Some of them also, who had been prisoners of war in England, sent letters through our army-post to their sweethearts in England, our people receiving the letters and forwarding them.”
“The next day, there being no firing between us and those in our front, three French officers, seemingly anxious to prove how far politeness and good breeding could be carried between the two nations, when war did not compel them to be unfriendly, took a table and some chairs out of a house which was immediately in our front, and one which we had lately occupied as a barrack; and bringing them down into the middle of the field which separated the advance of the two armies, sat down within a hundred yards of our picket, and drank wine, holding up their glasses, as much as to say, ‘Your health,’ every time they drank. Of course we did not molest them, but allowed them to have their frolic out.
“During the day, also, we saw soldiers of the three nations, viz. English, Portuguese, and French, all plundering at the same time in one unfortunate house, where our pie, our pig, and wine had been left. It stood about 150 or 200 yards below the church, on a sort of neutral ground between the two armies; hence the assemblage at the same moment of such a group of these motley marauders. They plundered in perfect harmony, no one disturbing the other on account of his nation or colour.”
261 “The mist hung heavily; and the French masses, at one moment quite shrouded in vapour, at another dimly seen, or looming sudden and large and dark at different points, appeared like thunder-clouds gathering before the storm. At half-past eight, Soult pushed back the British pickets in the centre; the sun burst out at that moment, the sparkling fire of the light troops spread wide in the valley, and crept up the hills on either flank, while the bellowing of forty pieces of artillery shook the banks of the Nive and the Adour. Darricau, marching on the French right, was directed against General Pringle. D’Armagnac, moving on their left and taking Old Monguerre as the point of direction, was ordered to force Byng’s right. Abbé assailed the centre at St. Pierre, where General Stewart commanded; for Sir Rowland Hill had taken his station on a commanding mount in the rear, from whence he could see the whole battle and direct the movements.”—Napier.
262 “This glorious battle was fought and won by Sir Rowland Hill with his own corps, alone and unassisted. Lord Wellington could not reach the field till the victory was achieved, and as he rode up to his successful general, he shook him heartily by the hand, with the frank remark, ‘Hill, the day’s your own.’ He was exceedingly delighted with Sir Rowland’s calm and beautiful conduct of this action, and with the intrepid and resolute behaviour of the troops.”—Sherer.
263 “A Frankfort officer now made his way to the outposts of our fourth division in the centre of the allies, and announced the intended defection, requiring a general officer’s word of honour that they should be well-received and sent to Germany: no general being on the spot, Colonel Bradford gave his word; means were immediately taken to apprise the battalions, and they came over in a body, thirteen hundred men, the French not discovering their intention till just when it was too late to frustrate it.”
264 “During this period of mutual repose, the French officers and ours soon became intimate: we used to meet at a narrow part of the river, and talk over the campaign. They would never believe (or pretended not to believe) the reverse of Napoleon in Germany; and when we received the news of the Orange Boven affair in Holland, they said that it was impossible to convince them. One of our officers took The Star newspaper, rolled a stone up in it, and attempted to throw it across the river; unfortunately the stone went through it, and it fell into the water: the French officer very quietly said, in tolerably good English, “Your good news is very soon damped!“—Batty.
“During the campaign, we had often experienced the most gentlemanlike conduct from the French officers. A day or two before the battle, when we were upon our alarm-post, at break of day, a fine hare was seen playing in a corn-field between the outposts; a brace of greyhounds were very soon unslipped, when, after an excellent course, poor puss was killed within the French lines. The officer to whom the dogs belonged, bowing to the French officer, called off the dogs, but the Frenchman politely sent the hare, with a message and his compliments, saying, that we required it more than they did.”
“A daring fellow, an Irishman, named Tom Patten, performed a singular feat. At the barrier there was a rivulet, along which our lines of sentries were posted. To the right was a thick, low wood, and during the cessation of hostilities our officers had again become intimate with those of the French, and the soldiers had actually established a traffic in tobacco and brandy in the following ingenious manner. A large stone was placed in that part of the rivulet screened by the wood, opposite to the French sentry, on which our people used to put a canteen with a quarter-dollar, for which it was very soon filled with brandy. One afternoon about dusk, Patten had put down his canteen with the usual money in it, and retired, but, though he returned several times, no canteen was there. He waited till the moon rose, but still he found nothing on the stone. When it was near morning, Tom thought he saw the same sentry who was there when he put his canteen down; so he sprang across the stream, seized the unfortunate Frenchman, wrested his firelock from him, and actually shaking him out of his accoutrements, recrossed, vowing he would keep them until he got his canteen of brandy, and brought them to the picket-house. Two or three hours afterwards, just as we were about to fall in, an hour before daybreak, the sergeant came to say that a flag of truce was at the barrier: I instantly went down, when I found the officer of the French picket in a state of great alarm, saying, that a most extraordinary circumstance had occurred (relating the adventure), and stating, that if the sentry’s arms and accoutrements were not given back, his own commission would be forfeited, as well as the life of the poor sentry. A sergeant was instantly sent to see if they were in the picket-house; when Patten came up scratching his head, saying “He had them in pawn for a canteen of brandy and a quarter-dollar and told us the story in his way; whereupon the things were immediately given over to the French captain, who, stepping behind, put two five-franc pieces into Patten’s hand. Tom, however, was not to be bribed by an enemy, but generously handed the money to his officer, requesting that he would insist on the French captain taking the money back.
“The Frenchman was delighted to get the firelock and accoutrements back, and the joy of the poor fellow who was stripped of them may be conceived, as, if it had been reported, he would certainly have been shot, by sentence of court-martial, in less than forty-eight hours.”—Cadell.
265 This general statement must unfortunately be qualified—for never was a commander more sadly perplexed for want of money. “We are just as bad as the Spaniards. I yesterday wanted to send off a courier to General W. Clinton in Catalonia, and the money for his expenses was borrowed from those who happened to have a little to lend.”
266 The Adour, like the Gave, is a name common to many rivers in the Pyrenees, both simply meaning water in some of those primeval languages, the remains of which are still widely preserved in the appellations of rivers and mountains. The greater and noted stream, into which the others are received, has its sources in the county of Bigorre, under the Pics du Midi and d’Espade, two of the highest mountains in the chain; it passes by Campan, Bagnères, Montgaillard, and Tarbes, and begins to be navigable near Grenade, a small town in the little county of Marsan. Having been joined by the Douze on the right below Tartas, it inclines to the south-west from its junction, passes Acqs, and then holds an almost southerly course to meet the Gave de Pau, which brings with its own waters those of the Gave d’Oleron, into which the Gave de Mauleon has been received. The Adour is then joined by the Bidouse, and lastly by the Nive.
267 “A halberd was set up, with a handkerchief fixed to it, and upon this point the chasse-marées boldly stood in for the river. Mr. Bloye, the master’s mate of the Lyra, led the passage. His boat was lost, and the whole of the crew drowned: several others shared the same fate. Captain Elliot, of the Martial, with the surgeon of that vessel and four seamen, and two belonging to the Porcupine, were amongst those who perished. Three transport-boats, with their crews, were also lost. All eyes were turned to witness the vessels plunging through the huge waves that rolled over the bar. A Spanish chasse-marée had nearly struggled through the surf, when an enormous wave was seen gradually nearing the vessel; and, just before it reached it, raising its curling ridge high above the deck, with one fatal sweep bore it down to the bottom. A moment after parts of the shattered vessel rose to the surface, and exhibited the wretched mariners clinging to its fragments: some were drifted till they actually got footing on the shore, and, as it was flood-tide, hopes were entertained of saving them by means of ropes thrown to them; but another tremendous wave rolling majestically on to the beach, in a moment bore them away for ever.”—Batty.
268 It consisted of six-and-twenty chasse-marées, lashed to each other, and moored by the bow and stem to resist the current that changed at ebb and flow. Heavy guns were occasionally substituted for anchors; and cables were strained by capstans across the centre of the decks, with strong oak planks laid transversely, and sufficiently secured to form a platform, at the same time pliant and substantial—calculated to rise or fall with the tide—and strong enough to support the weight of artillery. Immense stone piers had been erected by the French to contract the channel of the stream, and, by an artificial current, prevent the sand from accumulating on the bar. These, from their breadth, formed an admirable causeway, while they lessened the space of water to be bridged to an extent of two hundred and seventy yards. It was supposed by French engineers impracticable to secure pontoons so as to resist the ocean swells and mountain floods to which the Adour was so constantly exposed; but a fortunate shifting of a sand-bank formed an excellent breakwater; while a boom was laid above the bridge to arrest fire-ships or floating timber, which it might have been expected the enemy would employ for its destruction.
269 “A few rocket-men were hastily sent across the river, and posted on the sandhills to aid in repelling the enemy; and two guns of the troops of horse-artillery were so placed on the left bank of the river, as to be able to flank by their fire the troops coming on to attack the front of the guards.
“The enemy came on a little before dusk of evening with drums beating the pas-de-charge, and driving before him the pickets sent out by General Stopford to reconnoitre. The guards awaited the approach of the French columns till within a short distance of their front, and then commenced a well-directed fire; the guns on the left bank began to cannonade them, and the rockets on the sandhills were discharged with terrific effect, piercing the enemy’s column, killing several men, and blazing through it with the greatest violence. The result was the almost immediate rout of the French, who, terror-struck at the unusual appearance, and at the effect of the rockets, and the immovable firmness of the little corps, made the best of their retreat back towards the citadel, leaving a number of killed and wounded on the ground. This gallant little combat closed the events of the day.”—Batty.
270 “There was a prejudice in the army against this weapon, which had hitherto not been used in the field; the opinion seems to have been, that if it had been an efficient means of destruction, it would sooner have been borrowed from the East Indian nations. Lord Wellington, however, was willing that they should be tried; and some experiments which were made at Fontarabia gave reason for supposing that they might be found useful on the Adour. The direction of this new arm was assigned to Sir Augustus Fraser, but the trial was to be made under all the disadvantages of inexperience; for the corps was composed of men hastily brought together, and entirely ignorant of the arm they were to use; and the rockets themselves were equipped in five different ways, and consequently liable to as many failures.”—Southey.
A twelve-pounder rocket laid on the ground, and discharged without a tube, by simply applying a match to the vent, will run along the ground four or five hundred yards, seldom rising higher than a man’s head; and then, alternately rising and falling, will continue its course with such effect, as, after ranging 1200 yards, to pierce through twenty feet of turf, and explode on the other side, scattering the seventy-two carbine balls, with which it was loaded, in all directions. No barricade could for an instant retard its force; and should it by any accident strike against a stone, or any obstacle which it cannot pierce or overturn, it will bound off, and continue its terrible course.
They are of various dimensions, as well in length as in calibre, and are differently armed, according as they are intended for the field or for bombardment,—carrying, in the first instance, either shells or case-shot, which may be exploded at any part of their flight, spreading death and destruction among the columns of the enemy; and in the second, where they are intended for the destruction of buildings, shipping, stores, &c. they are armed with a peculiar species of composition which never fails of destroying every combustible material with which it comes in contact: the latter are called carcass-rockets.
The powers of this weapon are now established upon the best of all testimonies—that of the enemy; a striking instance of which occurred at the siege of Flushing, where General Monnet, the French commandant, made a formal remonstrance to Lord Chatham respecting the use of them in that bombardment.
The form of all the different kinds of these rockets is cylindrical, and they are composed of strong metallic cases, armed, as before stated, either with carcass composition for bombardment and conflagration, or with shells and case-shot for field-service. They are, however, of various weights and dimensions, from the eight-inch carcass, or explosion-rocket, weighing nearly three hundredweight, to the six-pound shell-rocket, which is the smallest size used in the field. The sticks which are employed for regulating their flight are also of different lengths, according to the size and service of the rocket, and which, for the convenience of carriage, are stowed apart from the rocket, and so contrived as to consist of two or more parts, which are connected to it, and to each other when requisite, with the utmost expedition.
They are divided into three classes, heavy, medium, and light,—the former including all those of above forty-two pounds, which are denominated according to their calibre, as eight-inch, seven-inch, six-inch, &c. rockets; the medium include all those from the forty-two pound to the twenty-four pound rocket; and the light, from the eighteen-pounder to the six-pounder, inclusive. The carcass-rockets are armed with strong iron conical heads, containing a composition as hard and solid as iron itself, and which, when once inflamed, bids defiance to any human effort to extinguish it, and, consequently, involves in an inextinguishable flame every combustible material with which it comes in contact. The forty-two pounder and thirty-two pounder carcass-rockets are those which have hitherto been chiefly employed in bombardments. The penetration of the thirty-two pound carcass-rocket, in common ground, is nine feet,—and in some instances where they have been employed, have been known to pierce through several floors, and through the sides of houses: this is the smallest rocket used in bombardment, and the largest employed in the field,—the more usual size for the latter service being the twenty-four, eighteen, twelve, and six-pounders. The ranges of the eight-inch, seven-inch, and six-inch rockets, are from 2,000 to 2,500 yards; and the quantity of combustible matter, or bursting powder, from twenty-five to fifty pounds; and from their weight, combined with less diameter, they possess a greater power of penetration than the heaviest shells, and are therefore equally efficient for the destruction of bomb-proofs, or the demolition of strong buildings.
The largest rocket that has yet been constructed has not, we believe, weighed more than three hundred-weight.
The forty-two and thirty-two pounders are those which have hitherto been principally used in bombardment, and which, for the general purposes of that service, are found quite sufficient, as they will convey from seven pounds to ten pounds of combustible matter each, and have a range of upwards of three thousand yards. The thirty-two pounder rocket may be considered as the medium rocket, being the smallest used in bombardment as a carcass or explosion rocket, and the largest used with shot or shell in the field; but as the twenty-four pounder is very nearly equal to it in all its applications in the latter service, being quite equal to the propelling of the Cohorn shell, or twelve-pounder shot, it is, from the saving in weight, generally preferred to the thirty-two pounder. The eighteen-pounder, which is the first of the light nature of rockets, is armed with a nine-pound shot or shell; the twelve pounder with a six-pound ditto; the nine-pounder with a grenade; and the six-pounder with a three-pound shot or shell. From the twenty-four pounder to the nine-pounder rocket, inclusive, a description of case-shot rocket is formed of each nature, armed with a quantity of musket or carbine balls put into the top of the cylinder of the rocket.