Chapter V: In the Pyrenees

The great battles and sieges, of course, arrest the attention of the historian, and their tale has been told over and over again. But what may be called the unrecorded marches and skirmishes of the campaign have genuine interest; and Kincaid, as we have seen, describes these with great vividness. Another set of such pictures is supplied by the campaign in the Pyrenees, where the soldiers marched and fought in wild and sunless ravines, on the wild-blown crests of mighty hills, or in deep and roadless valleys. Here are some of Kincaid's Pyrenean reminiscences. The month is July 1813. Wellington is pushing the broken French back through the hill passes towards the French frontiers:--

"We advanced along the banks of the Bidassoa, through a succession
of beautiful little fertile valleys, thickly studded with clean,
respectable-looking farm-houses and little villages, and bounded by
stupendous, picturesque, and well-wooded mountains, until we came to
the hill next to the village of Bera, which we found occupied by a
small force of the enemy, who, after receiving a few shots from our
people, retired through the village into their position behind it.
Our line of demarcation was then clearly seen. The mountain which the
French army occupied was the last ridge of the Pyrenees; and their
sentries stood on the face of it, within pistol-shot of the village
of Bera, which now became the advanced post of our division. The left
wing of the army, under Sir Thomas Graham, now commenced the siege
of St. Sebastian; and as Lord Wellington had, at the same time, to
cover both that and the blockade of Pampeluna, our army occupied an
extended position of many miles.

"Marshal Soult having succeeded to the command of the French army,
and finding, towards the end of July, that St. Sebastian was about
to be stormed, and that the garrison of Pampeluna were beginning to
get on short allowance, he determined on making a bold push for the
relief of both places; and, assembling the whole of his army, he
forced the pass of Maya, and advanced rapidly upon Pampeluna. Lord
Wellington was never to be caught napping. His army occupied too
extended a position to offer effectual resistance at any of their
advanced posts; but, by the time that Marshal Soult had worked his
way to the last ridge of the Pyrenees, and within sight of 'the haven
of his wishes,' he found his lordship waiting for him, with four
divisions of the army, who treated him to one of the most signal and
sanguinary defeats that he ever experienced.

"Our division during the important movements on our right was
employed in keeping up the communication between the troops under
the immediate command of Lord Wellington and those under Sir Thomas
Graham, at St. Sebastian. We retired, the first day, to the mountains
behind Le Secca; and, just as we were about to lie down for the
night, we were again ordered under arms, and continued our retreat
in utter darkness, through a mountain path, where, in many places, a
false step might have rolled a fellow as far as the other world. The
consequence was, that, although we were kept on our legs during the
whole of the night, we found, when daylight broke, that the tail of
the column had not got a quarter of a mile from their starting-post.
On a good broad road it is all very well, but on a narrow, bad road
a night march is like a nightmare, harassing a man to no purpose.

"On the 26th, we occupied a ridge of mountain near enough to hear
the battle, though not in a situation to see it; and remained the
whole of the day in the greatest torture for want of news. About
midnight we heard the joyful tidings of the enemy's defeat, with the
loss of four thousand prisoners. Our division proceeded in pursuit
at daylight on the following morning. We moved rapidly by the same
road on which we had retired; and, after a forced march, found
ourselves, when near sunset, on the flank of their retiring column on
the Bidassoa, near the bridge of Janca, and immediately proceeded to
business.

"The sight of a Frenchman always acted like a cordial on the spirits
of a rifleman; and the fatigues of the day were forgotten, as our
three battalions extended among the brushwood, and went down to
'knock the dust out of their hairy knapsacks,'[1] as our men were in
the habit of expressing themselves; but, in place of knocking the
dust out of them, I believe that most of their knapsacks were knocked
in the dust; for the greater part of those who were not floored along
with their knapsacks, shook them off, by way of enabling the owner to
make a smarter scramble across that portion of the road on which our
leaden shower was pouring; and, foes as they were, it was impossible
not to feel a degree of pity for their situation; pressed by an enemy
in the rear, an inaccessible mountain on their right, and a river on
their left, lined by an invisible foe, from whom there was no escape
but the desperate one of running the gantlet.

"We advanced next morning, and occupied our former post at Bera. The
enemy still continued to hold the mountain of Echelar, which, as it
rose out of the right end of our ridge, was, properly speaking, a
part of our property, and we concluded that a sense of justice would
have induced them to leave it of their own accord in the course of
the day; but, when towards the afternoon, they showed no symptoms of
quitting, our division, leaving their kettles on the fire, proceeded
to eject them. As we approached the mountain, the peak of it caught a
passing cloud, that gradually descended in a thick fog and excluded
them from our view. Our three battalions, however, having been let
loose, under Colonel Barnard, we soon made ourselves 'Children of the
Mist'; and, guided to our opponents by the whistling of their balls,
made them descend from their 'high estate'; and, handing them across
the valley into their own position, we then retired to ours, where we
found our tables ready spread, and a comfortable dinner waiting for
us.

"This was one of the most gentleman-like day's fighting that I ever
experienced, although we had to lament the vacant seats of one or two
of our messmates.

"_August 22._--I narrowly escaped being taken prisoner this morning,
very foolishly. A division of Spaniards occupied the ground to our
left, beyond the Bidassoa; and having mounted my horse to take a look
at their post, I passed through a small village, and then got on a
rugged path winding along the edge of the river, where I expected to
find their outposts. The river at that place was not above knee-deep,
and about ten or twelve yards across; and though I saw a number of
soldiers gathering chestnuts from a row of trees which lined the
opposite bank, I concluded that they were Spaniards, and kept moving
onwards; but, observing at last, that I was an object of greater
curiosity than I ought to be to people who had been in the daily
habit of seeing the uniform, it induced me to take a more particular
look at my neighbours, when, to my consternation, I saw the French
eagle ornamenting the front of every cap. I instantly wheeled my
horse to the right about; and seeing that I had a full quarter of
a mile to traverse at a walk, before I could get clear of them, I
began to whistle, with as much unconcern as I could muster, while
my eye was searching like lightning for the means of escape in the
event of their trying to cut me off. I had soon the satisfaction of
observing that none of them had firelocks, which reduced my capture
to the chances of a race! for, though the hill on my right was
inaccessible to a horseman, it was not so to a dismounted Scotchman;
and I therefore determined, in case of necessity, to abandon my
horse, and show them what I could do on my own bottom at a pinch.
Fortunately they did not attempt it; and I could scarcely credit my
good luck when I found myself once more in my own tent."

No fighting in the whole Peninsular campaign was more stubborn than that which took place in the Pyrenees towards the close of 1813. Soult showed great skill and audacity as a general. He was fighting to keep the invader's foot from profaning the "sacred" soil of France, and his genius shines at its brightest in the combats fought in the wild country betwixt San Sebastian and Bayonne. But Wellington's troops were veterans, flushed with victory and full of pride in themselves and confidence in their leader; and they were irresistible. One or two of Kincaid's sketches of fighting in the Pyrenees may be given:--

"The ensuing month passed by without producing the slightest novelty,
and we began to get heartily tired of our situation. Our souls, in
fact, were strung for war, and peace afforded no enjoyment, unless
the place did, and there was none to be found in a valley of the
Pyrenees, which the ravages of contending armies had reduced to a
desert. The labours of the French on the opposite mountain had, in
the first instance, been confined to fortification; but, as the
season advanced, they seemed to think that the branch of a tree, or a
sheet of canvas, was too slender a barrier between them and a frosty
night, and their fortified camp was gradually becoming a fortified
town of regular brick and mortar. Though we were living under the
influence of the same sky, we did not think it necessary to give
ourselves the same trouble, but reasoned on their proceedings like
philosophers, and calculated, from the aspect of the times, that
there was a probability of a speedy transfer of property, and that it
might still be reserved for us to give their town a name; nor were
we disappointed. Late on the night of the 7th of October, Colonel
Barnard arrived from headquarters with the intelligence that the next
was to be the day of trial. Accordingly, on the morning of the 8th,
the fourth division came up to support us, and we immediately marched
down to the foot of the enemy's position, shook off our knapsacks
before their faces, and went at them.

"The action commenced by five companies of our third battalion
advancing, under Colonel Ross, to dislodge the enemy from a hill
which they occupied in front of their entrenchments; and there never
was a movement more beautifully executed, for they walked quietly and
steadily up, and swept them regularly off without firing a single
shot until the enemy had turned their backs, when they then served
them out with a most destructive discharge. The movement excited the
admiration of all who witnessed it, and added another laurel to the
already crowded wreath which adorned the name of that distinguished
officer.

"At the first look of the enemy's position it appeared as if our
brigade had got the most difficult task to perform; but as the
capture of this hill showed us a way round the flank of their
entrenchments, we carried one after the other until we finally gained
the summit, with very little loss. Our second brigade, however, were
obliged to take 'the bull by the horns' on their side, and suffered
more severely; but they rushed at everything with a determination
that defied resistance, carrying redoubt after redoubt at the point
of the bayonet, until they finally joined us on the summit of the
mountain, with three hundred prisoners in their possession.

"We now found ourselves firmly established within the French
territory, with a prospect before us that was truly refreshing,
considering that we had not seen the sea for three years, and that
our views for months had been confined to fogs and the peaks of
mountains. On our left the Bay of Biscay lay extended as far as the
horizon, while several of our ships of war were seen sporting upon
her bosom. Beneath us lay the pretty little town of St. Jean de Luz,
which looked as if it had just been framed out of the Liliputian
scenery of a toy-shop. The town of Bayonne, too, was visible in the
distance, and the view to the right embraced a beautiful, well-wooded
country, thickly studded with towns and villages, as far as the eye
could reach.

"On the morning of the 9th we turned out as usual an hour before
daylight. The sound of musketry to our right in our own hemisphere
announced that the French and Spaniards had resumed their unfinished
argument of last night relative to the occupation of La Rhune; while
at the same time 'from our throne of clouds' we had an opportunity
of contemplating, with some astonishment, the proceedings of the
nether world. A French ship of war, considering St. Jean de Luz no
longer a free port, had endeavoured, under cover of the night, to
steal alongshore to Bayonne, and when daylight broke they had an
opportunity of seeing that they were not only within sight of their
port, but within sight of a British gun-brig, and if they entertained
any doubts as to which of the two was nearest, their minds were
quickly relieved on that point by finding that they were not within
reach of their port, and strictly within reach of the guns of the
brig, while two British frigates were bearing down with a press
of canvas. The Frenchman returned a few broadsides. He was double
the size of the one opposed to him, but, conceiving his case to be
hopeless, he at length set fire to the ship and took to his boats.
We watched the progress of the flames, until she finally blew up and
disappeared in a column of smoke. The boats of our gun-brig were
afterwards seen employed in picking up the odds and ends.

"The French, after leaving La Rhune, established their advanced post
on Petite La Rhune, a mountain that stood as high as most of its
neighbours; but, as its name betokens, it was but a child to its
gigantic namesake, of which it seemed as if it had at a former period
formed a part; but having been shaken off like a useless galoche, it
now stood gaping, open-mouthed, at the place it had left (and which
had now become our advanced post), while the enemy proceeded to
furnish its jaws with a set of teeth, or, in other words, to face it
with breastworks, &c., a measure which they invariably had recourse
to in every new position.

"Encamped on the face of La Rhune, we remained a whole month idle
spectators of their preparations, and dearly longing for the day
that should afford us an opportunity of penetrating into the more
hospitable-looking low country beyond them; for the weather had
become excessively cold, and our camp stood exposed to the utmost
fury of the almost nightly tempest. Oft have I in the middle of
the night awoke from a sound sleep and found my tent on the point
of disappearing in the air like a balloon, and, leaving my warm
blankets, been obliged to snatch the mallet and rush out in the
midst of a hailstorm to peg it down. I think that I now see myself
looking like one of those gay creatures of the elements who dwelt, as
Shakespeare has it, among the rainbows!

"By way of contributing to the warmth of my tent, I dug a hole
inside, which I arranged as a fireplace, carrying the smoke
underneath the walls, and building a turf-chimney outside. I was not
long in proving the experiment, and, finding that it went exceedingly
well, I was not a little vain of the invention. However, it came on
to rain very hard while I was dining at a neighbouring tent, and on
my return to my own I found the fire not only extinguished, but a
fountain playing from the same place up to the roof, watering my bed
and baggage, and all sides of it, most refreshingly.

"It is very singular that, notwithstanding our exposure to all the
severities of the worst of weather, we had not a single sick man in
the battalion while we remained there."

To this period belongs the stern fighting near Bayonne betwixt December 9 and 13, 1813.

"We turned out at daylight on the 10th, but as there was a thick
drizzling rain which prevented us from seeing anything, we soon
turned in again. My servant soon after came to tell me that Sir
Lowry Cole and some of his staff had just ascended to the top of the
château, a piece of information which did not quite please me, for I
fancied that the general had just discovered our quarter to be better
than his own, and had come for the purpose of taking possession of
it. However, in less than five minutes we received an order for our
battalion to move up instantly to the support of the piquets; and
on my descending to the door to mount my horse, I found Sir Lowry
standing there, who asked if we had received any orders, and on my
telling him that we had been ordered up to support the piquets, he
immediately desired a staff-officer to order up one of his brigades
to the rear of the château. This was one of the numerous instances in
which we had occasion to admire the prudence and forethought of the
great Wellington! He had foreseen the attack that would take place,
and had his different divisions disposed to meet it.

"The enemy came up to the opposite ridge in formidable numbers,
and began blazing at our windows and loopholes and showing some
disposition to attempt it by storm; but they thought better of it,
and withdrew their columns a short distance to the rear, leaving the
nearest hedge lined with their skirmishers. An officer of ours, Mr.
Hopewood, and one of our sergeants, had been killed in the field
opposite, within twenty yards of where the enemy's skirmishers now
were. We were very anxious to get possession of their bodies, but had
not force enough to effect it. Several French soldiers came through
the hedge at different times with the intention, as we thought, of
plundering, but our men shot every one who attempted to go near them,
until towards evening, when a French officer approached, waving a
white handkerchief and pointing to some of his men who were following
him with shovels. Seeing that his intention was to bury them we
instantly ceased firing, nor did we renew it again that night.

"The 43rd, from their post at the church, kept up an incessant shower
of musketry the whole of the day, at what was conceived at the time
to be a very long range; but from the quantity of balls which were
afterwards found sticking in every tree where the enemy stood, it
was evident that their berth must have been rather uncomfortable.
One of our officers, in the course of the day, had been passing
through a deep roadway between two banks with hedgerows, when, to
his astonishment, a dragoon and his horse tumbled heels over head
into the road, as if they had been fired out of a cloud. Neither of
them were the least hurt; but it must have been no joke that tempted
him to take such a flight. General Alten and Sir James Kempt took up
their quarters with us in the château; our sentries and those of the
enemy stood within pistol-shot of each other in the ravine below.

"On the 12th there was heavy firing and hard fighting all day to our
left, but we remained perfectly quiet. Towards the afternoon Sir
James Kempt formed our brigade for the purpose of expelling the enemy
from the hill next to the château, to which he thought them rather
too near; but, just as we reached our different points for commencing
the attack, we were recalled, and nothing further occurred.

"I went about one o'clock in the morning to visit our different
piquets, and seeing an unusual number of fires in the enemy's lines,
I concluded that they had lit them to mask some movement; and, taking
a patrol with me, I stole cautiously forward and found that they had
left the ground altogether. I immediately returned and reported the
circumstance to General Alten, who sent off a despatch to apprise
Lord Wellington.

"As soon as day began to dawn on the morning of the 13th, a
tremendous fire of artillery and musketry was heard to our right.
Soult had withdrawn everything from our front in the course of the
night, and had now attacked Sir Rowland Hill with his whole force.
Lord Wellington, in expectation of this attack, had last night
reinforced Sir Rowland Hill with the sixth division; which enabled
him to occupy his contracted position so strongly that Soult, unable
to bring more than his own front to bear upon him, sustained a signal
and sanguinary defeat.

"Lord Wellington galloped into the yard of our château soon after the
attack had commenced, and demanded, with his usual quickness, what
was to be seen? Sir James Kempt, who was spying at the action from an
upper window, told him; and, after desiring Sir James to order Sir
Lowry Cole to follow him with the fourth division, he galloped off to
the scene of action. In the afternoon, when all was over, he called
in again on his return to headquarters, and told us, 'that it was the
most glorious affair that he had ever seen; and that the enemy had
absolutely left upwards of five thousand men killed and wounded on
the ground.'"

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: The French knapsack is made of unshorn goatskin.]