Chapter XVII: Book XI (2)

On the French left, Reille’s brigades, connecting their right with Clausel’s third division, had environed the Spanish hill and ascended it unchecked, at the moment when the fourth division was so hardly pressed from Sauroren; a Spanish regiment then gave way on the left of the 40th, but a Portuguese battalion, rushing forward, again covered the flank of that invincible regiment, which waited in stern silence until the French set their feet upon the broad summit. Scarcely did their glittering arms appear over the brow of the mountain when the charging British cry was heard, the fierce shock given, the French mass was broken to pieces and a tempest of bullets followed it down the mountain. Four times this assault was renewed, and the French officers were seen even to pull up their tired men by the belts, so fierce and resolute they were to win, but it was the labour of Sisyphus; the vehement shout and shock of the British soldier always prevailed, and at last, with thinned ranks, tired limbs, and fainting hearts, hopeless from repeated failures, the French were so abashed that three British companies sufficed to bear down a whole brigade.[35]

While the battle was thus being fought on the mountain, Soult’s cavalry beyond the Guy river passed a rivulet, and with a fire of carbines forced the 10th Hussars to yield some rocky ground on Picton’s right, but the 18th Hussars renewed the combat, killed two officers, and drove them over the rivulet again.

Such were the leading events of this sanguinary struggle, which Lord Wellington, fresh from the fight, with homely emphasis called “_bludgeon work_.” Two generals and eighteen hundred men had been killed or wounded on the French side, following their official reports; a number far below the estimate made at the time by the allies, whose loss amounted to two thousand six hundred. These discrepancies between hostile calculations ever occur, and there is little wisdom in disputing where proof is unattainable; yet the numbers actually engaged were twenty-five thousand French and twelve thousand allies; hence, if the strength of the latter’s position did not save them from the greater loss, their steadfast courage is more to be admired.

The 29th the armies rested in position without firing a shot, and the wandering divisions on both sides were now entering the line.

Hill had sent all his baggage, artillery, and wounded men to Berioplano behind Picton’s ridge, but still occupied his position, covering the Marcalain and Irurzun roads; thus posted, he likewise menaced the valley of Lanz in rear of Soult’s right, his communication with Oricain being maintained by the seventh division; the light division was also approaching Hill’s left, and therefore on Wellington’s side the crisis was over. He had vindicated his position with only sixteen thousand combatants, and now, including the Spanish troops blockading Pampeluna, he had fifty thousand in close military combination. Thirty thousand flushed with recent successes were in hand, and Hill’s troops were well placed for re-taking the offensive.

Soult’s situation was proportionably difficult. Seeing he could not force the position, he had sent his artillery, part of his cavalry, and his wounded men, back to France immediately after the battle, ordering the two former to join Villatte on the Lower Bidassoa and await further instructions. Having shaken off this burthen he awaited D’Erlon’s arrival by the valley of Lanz, and that general did reach Ostiz, a few miles above Sauroren, at mid-day on the 29th, bringing intelligence, obtained indirectly during his march, that Graham had retired from the Bidassoa and Villatte had crossed that river. This gave Soult a hope that his first movements had disengaged San Sebastian, and he instantly conceived a new plan of operations, dangerous indeed, yet conformable to the critical state of his affairs.

No success was to be expected from another attack, yet he could not, being reinforced with eighteen thousand men, retire by the road he came without some dishonour; nor could he remain where he was, because his supplies of provisions and ammunition, derived from distant magazines by slow and small convoys, were unequal to the consumption. Two-thirds of the British troops, great part of the Portuguese and all the Spaniards, were, as he supposed, assembled in his front under Wellington, or on his right flank under Hill; and it was probable other reinforcements were on the march; wherefore he resolved to prolong his right with D’Erlon’s corps, and cautiously drawing off the rest of his army place the whole between the allies and the Bastan, in military connection with his reserve and closer to his frontier magazines. Thus posted he could combine all his forces in one operation to relieve San Sebastian, and profit from new combinations.

In the evening of the 29th the second division of cavalry, which was in the valley of Zubiri, passed over to that of Lanz and joined D’Erlon, who was ordered to march early on the 30th by the cross road, leading on Marcalain, which Hill had followed to get out of that valley. During the night the first division of cavalry and La Martinière’s division of infantry, both on the extreme left of the French army, retired over the mountains to Eugui, in the upper part of the Zubiri valley, having orders to cross the separating ridge there and join D’Erlon in the valley of Lanz. The remainder of Reille’s wing moved by the crest of the position to Sauroren, being gradually to relieve Clausel’s troops, which were then to move up the Lanz valley, follow D’Erlon, and be followed in like manner by Reille: meanwhile Clausel detached two regiments to the ridges beyond the Lanz river, to cover his own march and open a military connection with D’Erlon, whose new line of operations was just beyond those heights.

In the night Soult again heard, from deserters, that three divisions were to make an offensive movement next day by the Marcalain road on his right, and at daylight he was convinced the men spoke truly; because from the ridges held by Clausel beyond Sauroren he descried columns descending from Picton’s position and from above Oricain, while others were in movement apparently to turn Clausel’s right flank. These columns were Morillo’s Spaniards, Campbell’s Portuguese, and the seventh division, marching to adopt a new disposition, which shall be presently explained.

Early in the morning Soult’s combination was apparent: Foy’s division, the last of Reille’s wing, was seen in march along the crest of the mountain to Sauroren, where Maucune’s division had previously relieved Conroux’s, and the latter, belonging to Clausel, was moving up the valley of Lanz. Wellington was not a general to suffer a flank march across his front within cannon-shot. He immediately opened his batteries from the chapel height, and sent skirmishers against Sauroren; and soon this fire, spreading to the right, became brisk between Cole and Foy; but it subsided at Sauroren, and Soult, relying on the strength of the ground, directing Reille to maintain that village until nightfall, went off himself to join D’Erlon. His design was to fall upon the troops he had seen moving to turn his right and crush them with superior numbers: a daring project, well and finely conceived, but he had to deal with a man more rapid of perception and of a rougher stroke than himself. Overtaking D’Erlon, who had three divisions of infantry and two of heavy cavalry, he found him facing, not the troops seen in march the evening before, but Hill who was in position with ten thousand men.

COMBAT OF BUENZA. (July, 1813.)

Hill, occupying a very extensive mountain ridge, had his right strongly posted on rugged ground, but his left was insecure. D’Erlon, who had not less than twenty thousand sabres and bayonets in line, was followed by La Martinière’s division of infantry. Soult’s combination was therefore still extremely powerful, the light troops were already engaged when he arrived, and thus the same soldiers on both sides who had so strenuously combated at Maya were again opposed to each other.

D’Armagnac made a false attack on Hill’s right, Abbé endeavoured to turn his left and gain the summit of the ridge in the direction of Buenza; Maransin followed Abbé, and the French cavalry, entering the line, connected the two attacks. D’Armagnac pushed his feint too far, became seriously engaged and was beaten; but after some hard fighting Abbé turned the left flank, gained the summit of the mountain, and rendered the position untenable.

Hill, who had lost four hundred men, retired to the heights of Eguaros, drawing towards Marcalain with his right and throwing back his left; being there joined by Campbell and Morillo he again offered battle. Soult, whose principal loss was in D’Armagnac’s division, had however gained his main object; he had turned Hill’s left, secured a fresh line of retreat, a shorter communication with Villatte by the pass of Doña Maria, and withal, the command of the great Irurzun road to Toloza, which was distant only one league. His first thought was to seize it and march upon Toloza or Ernani to raise the siege of San Sebastian; there was nothing to oppose this, except the light division, whose movements shall be noticed hereafter, but neither Hill nor Soult knew of its presence. If the French marshal’s other combinations had been happily executed he would have broken into Guipuscoa on the 31st with fifty thousand men, thrust aside the light division in his march, and taken Graham in reverse while Villatte’s reserve attacked him in front. Wellington would have followed, yet scarcely in time, for he did not suspect his views, and was ignorant of his strength, thinking D’Erlon’s force to be only three divisions, whereas it was four divisions of infantry and two of cavalry. This error however did not prevent him from seizing the decisive point of operation and like a great captain giving a counter-stroke which Soult, trusting to the strength of Reille’s position, little expected. For when La Martinière’s division and the cavalry had abandoned the mountains above Elcano, and that Zabaldica was evacuated, Picton, reinforced with two squadrons of cavalry and a battery of artillery, was directed to enter the Zubiri valley and turn the French left. Meanwhile the seventh division swept over the hills beyond the Lanz river upon Clausel’s right, with safety, because Campbell and Morillo insured communication with Hill, who was ordered to push the head of his column towards Olague and menace Soult’s rear in the valley of Lanz. He was in march to do this when D’Erlon, as shown, met and forced him back. During these movements Cole never ceased to skirmish with Foy on the mountain between Zabaldica and Sauroren, while the sixth division reinforced with Byng’s brigade assaulted the latter village.

SECOND BATTLE OF SAUROREN. (July, 1813.)

Picton quickly gained the Val de Zubiri, and threw his skirmishers against Foy’s left flank on the mountain, while on the other flank General Inglis, one of those veterans who purchase every step of promotion with their blood, advancing with only five hundred men of the seventh division, broke at one shock the two French regiments on the ridges covering Clausel’s right, and drove them down into the valley of Lanz. He lost indeed one-third of his own men, but instantly spread the remainder in skirmishing order along the descent and opened a biting fire upon the flank of Conroux’s division, which being in march up the valley from Sauroren, was now thrown into disorder by having two regiments thus suddenly tumbled upon it from the top of the mountain.

Foy’s division was marching along the crest of the position between Zabaldica and Sauroren at the moment of this attack; but he was too far off to give aid, and his own light troops were engaged with Cole’s skirmishers; moreover Inglis had been so sudden that before the evil was well perceived it was past remedy; for Wellington instantly pushed the sixth division under Pakenham to the left of Sauroren, and sent Byng headlong down from the chapel height against Maucune, who was in that village. This vigorous assault was simultaneously enforced from the other side of the Lanz by Madden’s Portuguese, and the battery near the chapel sent its bullets crashing through the houses, or booming up the valley towards Conroux’s column, which Inglis never ceased to vex.

The village and bridge of Sauroren and the straits beyond were soon covered with a pall of smoke, the musketry pealed frequent and loud, and the tumult and affray echoing from mountain to mountain filled all the valley. Byng with hard fighting carried Sauroren, fourteen hundred prisoners were made, and the two French divisions, being entirely broken, fled, partly up the valley towards Clausel’s other divisions, partly up the original position, to seek refuge with Foy, who remained on the summit a helpless spectator of this rout. He rallied the fugitives in great numbers, but had soon to look to himself, for his own skirmishers were now driven up the mountain by Cole’s men, and his left was infested by Picton’s detachments. Thus pressed, he fell back along the hills separating the valley of Zubiri from that of Lanz, and the woods enabled him to effect his retreat without much loss; yet he dared not descend into either valley, and thinking himself entirely cut off, sent advice to Soult and went over the Great Spine into the Alduides by the pass of Urtiaga. Clausel meanwhile had been driven up the valley of Lanz to Olague, where, being joined by La Martinière, he took a position; and Wellington, whose pursuit had been damped by hearing of Hill’s action, also halted.

The allies lost nineteen hundred men killed, wounded, or taken in this and Hill’s battle, and nearly twelve hundred were Portuguese, for the soldiers of that nation bore the brunt of both fights. On the French side the loss was enormous. Conroux’s and Maucune’s divisions were completely disorganized. Eight thousand men under Foy were entirely separated from the main body, two thousand at the lowest computation were killed or wounded, many were dispersed in the woods and ravines, and three thousand prisoners were taken. Soult’s fighting men were thus reduced to thirty-five thousand, of which fifteen thousand under Clausel and Reille were dispirited by defeat, and the whole in a critical situation, seeing that Hill’s force, increased to fifteen thousand men by the junction of Morillo and Campbell, was in their front at Eguaros, and thirty thousand were on their rear in the valley of Lanz; for Picton, finding no enemies in the valley of Zubiri, had joined Cole on the heights.

Wellington had sent some Spaniards to Marcalain when he first heard of Hill’s action, yet he was not then aware of the true state of affairs on that side, and his operations were founded on the notion that Soult was in retreat towards the Bastan. Hence he designed to follow closely and push his own left forward to support Graham on the Bidassoa; but he still underrated D’Erlon’s force, and thought La Martinière’s division had originally retreated up the Val de Zubiri to Roncesvalles, instead of crossing the intervening ridge to the Lanz valley; and as Foy’s column was numerous, and two divisions had been broken at Sauroren, he judged the force immediately under Soult to be very weak, and made dispositions accordingly. The sixth division and the 13th Light Dragoons were ordered to join Picton, the whole to move upon the Roncesvalles; Cole was called down into the valley of Lanz, and Hill was directed to press Soult, turning his right, yet still directing his own march upon Lanz: the seventh division was to let Hill cross its front, and then march for the pass of Doña Maria.

These arrangements show that Wellington expected Soult to rejoin Clausel, and make for the Bastan by the pass of Vellate. But the French marshal was so far advanced he could not return to Lanz; he was between two fires, and could only retreat into the valley of St. Estevan by the pass of Doña Maria; wherefore, calling up Clausel, and giving D’Erlon, whose divisions were in good order, the rear-guard, he commenced his march at midnight towards the pass. Mischief was thickening around him. Graham, on the British left, had twenty thousand men ready to move either against Villatte or into the valley of St. Estevan; and there remained on that side the light division, under Charles Alten, of whose operations it is time to speak.

That general had descended the mountain of Santa Cruz on the evening of the 28th, to gain the great road of Irurzun; but whether by orders from Graham, or in default of orders, the difficulty of communication being extreme in those wild regions, he commenced his movement very late, and darkness falling on his rear brigade while in march, the troops got dispersed in that frightful wilderness of woods and precipices. Many soldiers made faggot torches, waving them as signals, and, so moving, the lights served indeed to assist those who carried them, yet misled and bewildered others who saw them at a distance; for the heights and the ravines were alike studded with these small fires, and the soldiers calling to each other filled the whole region with their clamour. Thus they continued to rove and shout until morning showed the face of the mountain covered with scattered men and animals, who had not gained half a league of ground beyond their starting place, and it was many hours ere they could be collected.

Alten, now for three days separated from the army, sent mounted officers in various directions to obtain tidings, and at six o’clock in the evening renewed his march, but at Areysa halted without suffering fires to be lighted; for he knew nothing of the enemy and was fearful of discovering his situation. At night he moved again, and finally established his bivouacs near Lecumberri early on the 30th, having heard the noise of Hill’s battle at Buenza in the course of the day. The light division was thus brought into the immediate system of operations, and had Soult continued his march, after driving back Hill, it would have been in great danger. Now it was a new power thrown into Wellington’s hands at a critical moment, for Villatte, contrary to the intelligence received, had not advanced, and Soult was therefore completely isolated: he had indeed no resources save what his ability and courage could supply.

His single line of retreat by Doña Maria was secure only as far as San Estevan, and from that town he could march up the Bidassoa to the Bastan, to regain France by the Col de Maya; or down the same river towards Vera by Sumbilla and Yanzi, from both of which roads branching off to the right led over the mountains to Echallar: yet he might be intercepted on either side. The Col de Maya way was good, that down the Bidassoa was a long and terrible defile, so contracted about the bridges of Yanzi and Sumbilla that a few men only could march abreast. This then he had to dread. First, that Wellington by the pass of Vellate would reach the Bastan before him, and block the Maya passes. Second, that Graham would occupy the rocks of Yanzi and cut him off from Echallar. Then, confined to a narrow mountain-way leading from San Estevan to Zagaramurdi, and far too rugged for wounded men and baggage, he would be followed by Hill, and perhaps headed at Urdax by Wellington.

In this state, the first object being to get through Doña Maria, he commenced his retreat in the night of the 30th, while Wellington, still ignorant of the real state of affairs, halted in the valley of Lanz to let Hill pass his front and enter the Bastan. But early on the 31st, Soult’s real strength became known, and the seventh division was directed to aid Hill, while Wellington marched himself through the pass of Vellate, and sent Alten orders to cut in upon the French, intercepting their march where he could. Longa, who was with Graham, had instructions to seize the defiles at Yanzi, and aid the light division to block that way, while Graham was to hold all his corps in readiness for the same object.

COMBAT OF DOÑA MARIA. (July, 1813.)

General Hill overtook the French rear-guard early on the 31st, just as the seventh division appeared on his right, and the enemy could only gain the summit of the Doña Maria pass under the fire of his guns; there however they turned, and throwing out skirmishers made strong battle. General Stewart, leading the attack and now for the third time engaged with D’Erlon’s troops, was again badly wounded and his first brigade was repulsed; yet Pringle renewed the attack with the second brigade, and broke the enemy’s right; the seventh division did the same for the left, and some prisoners were taken: a thick fog prevented further pursuit, and the loss of the French was unknown, but that of the allies was four hundred.

The seventh division remained on the mountain. Hill, following his orders, moved by a short rugged way between Doña Maria and Vellate over the Great Spine to join Wellington, who had during this combat entered the Bastan. Meanwhile General Byng, previously pushed forward, had captured at Elisondo a large convoy of provisions and ammunition left there by D’Erlon, had made several hundred prisoners after a sharp skirmish, and seized the pass of Maya. Wellington then occupied the hills through which the road from San Estevan led to the Bastan, and full of hope he was to strike a terrible blow; for Soult, after passing Doña Maria, had halted in San Estevan, although from his scouts he knew the convoy had been taken by Byng. He was in a deep valley, and four divisions were behind the crest of the mountains overlooking his post; the seventh division was on the summit of the Doña Maria pass; the light division and Graham’s Spaniards were marching to block the valley at Vera and Echallar; Byng was at Maya, and Hill was moving by Almandoz just behind Wellington; a few hours gained and the French must surrender or disperse!

Strict orders were given to prevent the lighting of fires, the straggling of soldiers, or any other indication of the presence of troops, and the English commander placed himself on some rocks at a culminant point, from whence he could observe every movement. Soult seemed tranquil, and when four of his “_gens d’armes_” were seen to ride up the valley in a careless manner some staff-officers proposed to cut them off. Wellington, whose object was to hide his own presence, forbade this; but the next moment three marauding English soldiers entering the valley, were seen and carried off by the French patrol; half an hour afterwards their drums beat to arms and the columns began to move out of San Estevan towards Sumbilla. Thus the disobedience of three plundering knaves, unworthy of the name of soldiers, deprived one consummate commander of the most splendid success, and saved another from the most terrible disaster.[36]

Soult walked from his prison, yet his chains still hung upon him. The way was narrow, the multitude great, wounded men borne on their comrades’ shoulders filed in long procession with the baggage, Clausel’s troops, forming the rear-guard, were therefore still near San Estevan the next morning; and scarcely had they marched a league when Cole’s skirmishers and the Spaniards, thronging along the heights on their flank, opened a fire on them, to which little reply could be made: the soldiers and baggage soon got mixed in disorder, numbers fled up the hills, and the energy of Soult, whose personal exertions were conspicuous, could scarcely prevent a general dispersion. Prisoners and baggage were now taken at every step, and the boldest were dismayed; worse would have awaited them, if Wellington had been on other points well seconded by his subordinate generals.

Instead of taking the first road leading from Sumbilla to Echallar, the head of the French column passed onward towards that leading from the bridge near Yanzi; the valley narrowed to a mere cleft in the rocks as they advanced, the Bidassoa was on their left, and there was a tributary torrent to cross, the bridge being defended by a battalion of Spanish Caçadores from Vera. The head of the column was by this time as much disordered as the rear, and had the Caçadores been reinforced, only those French near Sumbilla, who could take the road from that place to Echallar, would have escaped; but the Spanish general Longa kept aloof, D’Erlon won the defile, and Reille’s divisions were following, when a new enemy appeared.

The light division had been directed to head the French at San Estevan or Sumbilla. The order was received on the evening of the 31st, and General Alten, threading the defiles of Zubieta and descending the deep valley of Lerins, reached Elgoriaga about mid-day on the 1st of August, having then marched twenty-four miles. He was little more than a league from Estevan, was about the same distance from Sumbilla, and the movement of the French along the Bidassoa was immediately discovered. Instead of moving direct on Sumbilla he turned to his left, clambered up the great mountain of Santa Cruz and made for the bridge of Yanzi. The weather was very sultry, the mountain steep and hard to overcome, many men fell and died convulsed and frothing at the mouth, others whose spirit and strength had never before been quelled, leaned on their muskets and muttered in sullen tones that they yielded for the first time. However, towards evening, after marching nineteen consecutive hours, and over forty miles of mountain roads, the head of the exhausted column reached the edge of a precipice near the bridge of Yanzi. Below it, within pistol-shot, Reille’s divisions were seen hurrying forward along the horrid defile in which they were pent up, a fire of musketry commenced, and the scene which followed is thus described by an eye-witness.[37]

“We overlooked the enemy at stone’s throw, and from the summit of a tremendous precipice. The river separated us, but the French were wedged in a narrow road with inaccessible rocks on one side and the river on the other. Confusion impossible to describe followed, the wounded were thrown down in the rush and trampled upon, the cavalry drew their swords and endeavoured to charge up the pass of Echallar, but the infantry beat them back, and several, horses and all, were precipitated into the river; some fired vertically at us, the wounded called out for quarter, while others pointed to them, supported as they were on branches of trees, on which were suspended great coats clotted with gore, and blood-stained sheets taken from different habitations to aid the sufferers.”

On these miserable supplicants brave men could not fire, and so piteous was the spectacle that it was with averted or doubtful aim they shot at the others, although the latter rapidly plied their muskets in passing, and some in their veteran hardihood even dashed across the bridge of Yanzi to make a counter-attack. It was a soldier-like but vain effort, the night found the British in possession of the bridge; and though the great body of the enemy escaped by the mountain path to Echallar, the baggage was cut off and with many prisoners fell into the hands of the light troops which were still hanging on the rear in pursuit from San Estevan.

That day the French losses were great, yet Wellington was justly discontented with the result. Neither Longa nor Alten had fulfilled their missions. The former should have stopped D’Erlon; the latter should have passed the bridge of Yanzi and struck a great blow: it was for that his soldiers had made such a prodigious exertion.

In the night Soult rallied his divisions about Echallar, and on the morning of the 2nd occupied the Puerto of that name. His left was on the rocks of Zagaramurdi, his right, on the Ivantelly mountain, communicating with Villatte, who held certain ridges between the Ivantelly and the head of the great Rhune mountain. Clausel’s three divisions, reduced to six thousand men, were on a strong hill between the Puerto and town of Echallar. This position was momentarily adopted by Soult to make Wellington discover his final object, but that general would not suffer the affront. He had the fourth, seventh, and light divisions in hand, and resolved to fall upon Clausel, whose position was dangerously advanced.

COMBATS OF ECHALLAR AND IVANTELLY. (Aug. 1813.)

From Yanzi the light division marched to the heights of Santa Barbara, which were connected with the Ivantelly, thus turning Clausel’s position and menacing Soult’s right, while the fourth division moved to attack his front, and the seventh menaced his left; these attacks were to be simultaneous, but General Barnes led his brigade of the seventh division against Clausel’s strong post before the fourth and light divisions were seen or felt. A vehement fight ensued, yet neither the steepness of the mountain, nor the overshadowing multitude of the enemy, clustering above in support of their skirmishers, could arrest the assailants, and the astonishing spectacle was presented of fifteen hundred men, driving by sheer valour and force of arms six thousand good troops from ground so rugged, the numbers might have been reversed and the defence made good without much merit. Incalculable is the preponderance of moral power in war! These were the Frenchmen who had assailed the terrible rocks above Sauroren with a force and energy that all the valour of the hardiest British veterans scarcely sufficed to repel; yet now, five days only having elapsed, although posted so strongly, they did not sustain the shock of one-fourth of their own numbers! And at this very time, eighty British soldiers, the comrades and equals of those who achieved this wonderful exploit, having wandered to plunder, surrendered to some French peasants, who as Lord Wellington truly observed, “_they would under other circumstances have eat up_!” What gross ignorance of human nature then do those writers display, who assert, that the use of brute force is the highest qualification of a general!

Clausel fell back fighting to a strong ridge beyond the pass of Echallar, having his right covered by the Ivantelly mountain, which was strongly occupied. Meanwhile the light division ascended the broad heights of Santa Barbara, and halted until the operations of the fourth and seventh divisions rendered it advisable to attack the Ivantelly, which lifted its sugar-loaf head on their right rising as it were out of the Santa Barbara heights, and shutting them off from the ridges through which the troops beaten at Echallar were now retiring. Evening was coming on, a thick mist capped the crowning rocks, where a strong French regiment was ensconced, and the division, besides its terrible march the previous day, had been for two days without sustenance. Weak and fainting, the soldiers were leaning on their arms when the advancing fire at Echallar imported an attack on the Ivantelly, and Andrew Barnard led five companies of riflemen up the mountain. Four companies of the 43rd followed in support, the misty cloud descended lower, the riflemen were soon lost to the view, and the sharp clang of their weapons, heard in distinct reply to the more sonorous rolling musketry of the French, told what work was going on. For some time the echoes rendered it doubtful how the action went, but the companies of the 43rd could find no trace of an enemy save the killed and wounded: Barnard had fought his way unaided, and without a check to the summit, where his dark-clothed swarthy veterans raised their victorious shout on the highest peak, just as the coming night showed the long ridges of the mountains beyond, sparkling with the last musket-flashes from Clausel’s troops retiring in disorder from Echallar.

This day cost the British four hundred men, and Wellington himself narrowly escaped the enemy’s hands. He had taken towards Echallar half a company of the 43rd as an escort, and placed a sergeant, named Blood, with a party to watch in front while he examined his maps. A French detachment endeavoured to cut the party off, and their troops, rushing on at speed, would infallibly have fallen unawares upon Wellington, if Blood, leaping down the precipitous rocks, had not given him warning: as it was, they arrived in time to send a volley after him while galloping away.

Now, after nine days of continual movement during which ten serious actions had been fought, the operations ceased. Of the allies, including the Spaniards, seven thousand three hundred officers and soldiers had been killed, wounded, or taken, and many were dispersed from fatigue or to plunder. On the French side the loss was terrible, and the disorder rendered the official returns inaccurate. Wellington called it twelve thousand, but hearing the French officers admitted more, raised his estimate to fifteen thousand. The engineer _Belmas_, in his Journals of Sieges compiled from official documents, sets down above thirteen thousand. Soult in his official correspondence at the time, gave fifteen hundred for Maya, four hundred for Roncesvalles, two hundred on the 27th, eighteen hundred the 28th, after which he spoke no more of losses by battle. There remain therefore to be added, the combats of Linzoain, the battles of Sauroren and Buenza on the 30th, the combats on the 31st, 1st and 2nd: finally, four thousand unwounded prisoners. Let this suffice. It is not needful to sound the stream of blood in all its horrid depths.