The Duke of Dalmatia crosses the Bidassoa—Sharp contest at the heights of St. Marzial and the Bridge of Bera—Touching scene witnessed by the Author on his way to rejoin his division at Santa Barbara—A present from England—Passage of the Bidassoa by the English troops on the 6th of October—Active fighting—The French driven over the mountains into their own territory—Delights of good quarters after hard work—Reconnoitring—Habits and condition of the Spanish soldiery—A mock fight—Military pastimes—Preparations for the invasion of France.

On the same day that the assault of St. Sebastian took place, the Duke of Dalmatia, with the right wing of his army, crossed the Bidassoa, opposite to the heights of St. Marzial, and another division forded the river two hundred yards below Bera (under cover of the high rock, which rises abruptly over the west end of the town) and immediately moved forward to attack the heights above the village of Salines, occupied by part of the seventh division, with whom and the Portuguese the enemy were engaged the greater part of the day. The French repeatedly endeavoured to climb the heights of St. Marzial without effect. The ascent was so difficult, that the Spaniards had little more to do than to deliver their fire, by which they managed, in the presence of Field-marshal the Marquis of Wellington, to beat the enemy.

The French marshal, when he saw his soldiers giving way and plunging into the Bidassoa, became perfectly furious, for, owing to this unsuccessful attack, the French above Salines were obliged to grope their way down the uneven and slippery mountain, in search of the ford which they had previously crossed (in the morning) in good order, and in the highest spirits. When, however, they now reached the river after exceeding toil and in total darkness, they found it so swollen, owing to the floods from the mountains, that they could not attempt to cross it. The wind howled fiercely; the roaring torrents, and vast bodies of water, poured down the sides of the mountains, rocks and water courses, swelling the river into an overwelming flood, which rushed through the narrow arches of the bridge of Bera, with irresistible fury. In short, a perfect hurricane raged over the mountains, and swept throughout the valleys, in boisterous whirlwinds, that carried away in their fearful blasts branches of trees, and bellowed furiously over the tops of the forests.

During this awful convulsion of the elements, a few stragglers of the French division succeeded in overpowering a corporal's picquet, and rushed over the bridge of Bera; but a company of the second battalion of rifle corps, which occupied the shell of a house, immediately forced them to recross the bridge. Again the enemy several times attempted to cross the bridge at the pas de charge, but were as often beaten back by the well-plied bullets of the rifles; and, strange to relate, this picquet and the French division continued engaged within five hundred yards of the French post above Bera, and not more than twice the distance from the second brigade of the light division which occupied the rising ground in front of the debouchÉ of San Estevan,—the first brigade having crossed to the left bank of Bidassoa on the previous day, in support of the seventh division. When too late, another company arrived to their assistance; but morning dawned and the odds were too great; the captain commanding, when in the act of mounting his horse, was shot through the body, and the French rushed across the bridge. This was a most extraordinary fight, while the storm was so tremendous that the musketry could hardly be heard; and neither the French nor the English army gave an effectual helping hand to their comrades during this wild contest.

On the morning of the 1st of September we started from Renteria, to return to our division, and had only travelled a short distance when we met and questioned some wounded Spaniards, who gave a very vague account of the fighting on the preceding day, and all that we could extract from them was "Oh! seÑores mucho combate ayer." We pursued the rugged road, and met an English soldier, who told us that there had been some sharp fighting all along the ridge of the mountains on the left of the Bidassoa; but he could not inform us whether the enemy had advanced or retired. This piece of intelligence made it advisable to keep a sharp look-out. We soon, however, met Lieutenant-Colonel Gordon, one of the General-in-Chiefs aides-de-camp, who gave us every information, and told us that the road of communication was now quite open to Bera.

Having travelled another league, we arrived, by a wild and crooked road, at the summit of a mountain covered with oak trees, where we saw a soldier of our regiment standing by the side of a goatherd's roofless hut, who told us that his master, Lieut. Folliet, had been mortally wounded four hours after we had taken leave of him on the previous day. A body of the enemy had pushed through the forest beyond the left flank of a brigade of the seventh division, and, rushing furiously through the wood towards the little detachment with loud shouts, and a rattling fusillade, had succeeded in scattering these young soldiers. On entering the hut, we saw the youthful sufferer, deadly pale, lying on his back, with his uniform, sash, sword and cap, died in blood and strewed about on the loose stones or rock, which formed the floor of the miserable hut. On seeing us, he extended his hand, and a momentary gleam of joy passed across his pallid features, as he mildly informed us that he was dying from a wound in the abdomen, which had caused him excruciating torture until mortification had ensued. He was quite resigned to his fate, and begged that we would not give way to melancholy, for that he was quite happy, and only hoped we thought he had done his duty; that the only grief he felt was from not having seen the regiment, the summit of all his ambition—before he expired. In a few hours he was no more; and having been enveloped in a blanket, he was interred under the wide-spreading branches of an oak tree, by the side of the ruined hut.

Little at that time did my three companions anticipate that, before the expiration of three months, two of them would be buried in regions equally inhospitable. Lieut. Baillie was shot through the head, Captain Murchison in the groin, and Lieut. James Considine was dangerously wounded.

In the evening we rejoined our brigade, which had returned to Santa Barbara, when we felt considerable pleasure in hearing they had not been engaged during our five days' absence.

During the month of September, the enemy worked hard in sawing and felling timber to form abattis, and in constructing entrenchments. The right and left of our own army were employed in a similar manner.

Towards the end of the month, I observed one of my messmates winding along the crest of the mountain, on his way from England, having recovered from a terrible wound. Our joy at meeting was very great; his at finding me still in the land of the living, and mine at seeing an old friend, whom, when last we parted, I never cherished the hope of meeting again.

The baggage being unpacked, his soldier servant, who had accompanied him, came up with a good-tempered smile; and, while unfolding a dingy pocket handkerchief, intimated that he had brought me a present from England. "Well! what is it?" said I, my curiosity being somewhat excited; but he continued to unfold his offering, wrapped in layers of paper, without making any express reply, and at length brought forth a piece of bread, which he had taken from a dinner table in England. This he handed to me, certainly in a very mouldy state, owing to the length of the voyage, but the compliment was equally appreciated. I thanked him for his kind recollection of me, and ate it on the spot.

On the 6th of October, it was intimated that the enemy were to be attacked on the following morning; such information, however, made no difference either in our conversation or reflexions.

This day Lieut. Fry,⁴ of the rifle corps, dined with us. The soup was made with bullocks' tails; the spiced minced-meat was of bullocks' heads, and the third course consisted of a bullock's heart.

Soon after dark an orderly entered the tent, and informed me that I was ordered to descend into the valley before daylight, with a reinforcement to the picquet, destined to begin the attack on the morrow. "Ah, now that is very strange," ejaculated one of the party; "for last night I dreamed that you (meaning myself) were killed skirmishing up the opposite mountain." I returned thanks to him for this pleasant piece of intelligence.

On reaching the valley, at the appointed hour, before daybreak, I found the officers of the company in a profound slumber, stretched on the floor, and the commander lying on a table in a small farm-house; but, as I had no inclination to sleep, I stirred up the dying embers of the wood fire, and purposely made so much noise, that I thoroughly aroused the sleepers into a conversational mood; and one of them announced the pleasing information, that he could supply us with coffee,—which was carefully boiled in a pipkin, and which we partook of with considerable zest, to fortify our stomachs for the morning combat.

The passage of the river Bidassoa began at daylight, by the extreme left of the army, personally directed by Field-marshal Wellington. The fifth division crossed near the mouth of the river, and the first division began the attack early in the morning. Lord Aylmer's brigade, and a corps of Spaniards, also forded the river at various places, covered by some pieces of cannon stationed on the heights of St. Marzial. Here a sharp contest took place, particularly against the fifth division, while ascending the steeps, and difficult mountains. The enemy, being attacked at so many points at once, by the various fords, were outflanked right and left, and were finally beaten off this tremendous range of mountains: the fourth division were in reserve behind Bera, and also deployed on the heights of Santa Barbara, to support the light division.

An hour after daylight, the whole of the picquets of the light division in front of Bera, first began the attack of a detached ridge, called the Boar's Back, from its jagged summit. It was necessary to carry this before the division could debouch through the town of Bera, for the attack of the main position, covered by forts and abattis. The 3rd rifles began to skirmish up one end of the Boar's Back, and we on the other; it was only defended by a small body of French troops, and was speedily carried.

The second brigade, under Sir John Colborne, began a sharp attack on a great tongue of the mountain, which sloped down towards Bera; but the first effort proved unsuccessful against a square fort, which the enemy held with great resolution, and not only beat off the attack, but in their turn sallied from the works, and drove, with the bayonet, numbers of the assailants over the rugged precipices.

At this critical moment, the 52d regiment, being in reserve, advanced in column, and bore against the stragglers in such good order, that they not only pushed them back, but drove them pell-mell into the fort on one side, and out at the other; in fact, they appeared literally to walk over the entrenchment. I had an admirable view of this affair from the top of the rock already carried, and from which it was necessary to descend before we could ascend the principal ridge.

The second brigade continued to advance; but the ground was so difficult, that at every step they met with a severe loss, in killed and wounded. At the end of three hours, when they had nearly gained the summit of the mountain, the enemy rolled (from a strong entrenchment) large stones down upon them, and by this mode of warfare, with a sprinkling of balls, kept them at bay for a considerable time.

In the meantime the first brigade, under General Sir James Kempt, had pushed through Bera to support the skirmishers, who moved parallel, with the second brigade, or rather branched off by degrees a little to the right, and engaged the enemy up the mountain leading into France. The obstacles on each side of the way rendered the mountain fearfully difficult of ascent; and it was, indeed, so intersected with rocks, trees, brushwood, and prickly briars, that our hands and limbs were pierced with thorns, and the trousers were literally torn in shreds from off our legs. When half way up the mountain, we emerged from the entangling thicket, fatigued and deluged with perspiration, and found the enemy plying bullets from a small fort. As soon as a sufficient number of men could be scraped together, we gained possession of that post by a charge of the bayonet: from thence we overlooked a very small field, enclosed by rocks, wherefrom the enemy, consisting of three or four hundred men, could no longer extricate themselves, and fell into our hands, or, more properly speaking, were left in a trap, in a valley between the first and second brigades. These captives may be fairly ascribed as prisoners to the first brigade, since they were within point blank of us, and not within a mile of the second brigade, who did not discharge a single shot at them, but on the contrary had quite enough to do, independently of that affair, in clearing the ground of the enemy opposed to them, from whom they took three pieces of cannon, which were abandoned in the entrenchments.

After three hours' toil and clambering from rock to rock, we arrived within two hundred yards of the summit of the puerta de Bera, which was defended by a few hundred of the enemy; the remainder of their face was extended in order to oppose the second brigade, and to the right, along the wooded ridge, as far as the rock of la Rhune, distant about two miles from the extreme right of our division, to oppose the Spaniards. The rolling of musketry was now incessant on all sides.

It was here I saw the remarkable death of one of the rifle corps, who had killed a French soldier, and who, before he had taken his rifle from the level, received a ball through his body, which caused him such excruciating agony, that his face was all at once distorted, his eyes rolled, and his lips, blackened with the biting of cartridges, convulsively opened. His teeth were tightly clenched; his arms and legs were thrown into an extended position, and he held out his rifle, grasped at arm's length, and remained stationary in this extraordinary attitude for a few moments, until he dropped down dead, as suddenly as if struck by a flash of lightning.

As soon as the skirmishers had gained the top of the mountain, Sir James Kempt rode up amongst the flying bullets, and expressed his approbation of all that had been done; for the skirmishers alone had grouped into a compact body, and forced the pass at the point of the bayonet, and the French were now running in all directions. To attempt to express our boundless delight at the grandeur and extreme beauty of the surrounding scenery would be impossible. Behind us lay the prodigious mountains and gloomy fastnesses of the Pyrenees, whose rocks, cast in nature's roughest mould, towered one above another as far as the eye could reach. To the north, the dark blue waters of the tranquil ocean glittered in the sun beams; and various distant white sails skirted the remote horizon. Beneath us lay the supposed sacred fields of France, the towns of Bayonne and St. Jean de Luz, the rivers Nivelle, Nive, Adour, and innumerable tributary streams, which laced and meandered near vine-clad hills, through verdant valleys, whose banks were decorated with a luxuriant foliage; whilst the country was studded with countless spires of churches and red-topped villages, chateaux, farm-houses, and rural white cottages, enclosed by gardens, and shrouded by fruit trees and plantations.

The Spaniards made several attempts to climb the mountain of la Rhune, crowned by a tremendous bare rock, which rose in frowning majesty above their heads. They endeavoured to hide beneath the various shelving rocks, or behind the forest trees, from the dreadful effects of the fragments of rock, or loose stones, hurled down upon them by the enemy, and which bounded with a terrific crash into the deep valleys.

The General quitted the skirmishers at the top of the puerta de Bera, to bring up the reserves; but our enthusiasm was so great at the idea of taking possession of French ground, which seemed more than a compensation for all our Spanish toils, that three hundred of us descended the pass of the mountain, and pursued the enemy for a league and a half into France, where, to the left, we could distinguish the French columns retreating from Hendaye, and various other points, whence they were driven by the left of our army in the greatest confusion, and were countermarching round the unfinished batteries in front of St. Jean de Luz, and, in a hurried manner, pointing their cannon towards the various roads, and other debouchÉs leading respectively to them.

The various farm-houses were deserted by the inhabitants, who left their doors wide open, as if to invite the ravenous invaders to help themselves. Here we spent the day in rural delight, on the top of a pretty green hill, encircled by orchards, on which we built a hut, and tied a pocket-handkerchief to a twig by way of a flag, within a mile of the enemy. A thousand gratifying reflections here arose in our minds, and enlivened our occupations; while the contented soldiers of Spain, with arms in their hands, brought us wines, fruits, and other delicacies, without having committed one outrageous act, or despoiling the property of the peaceable inhabitants, further than helping themselves to the excellent rations of goose, turkey and hams, already cooked, and preserved in hogs' lard; added to which, there was a plentiful supply of nice soft bread, which afforded us a most excellent repast.

The day having closed on this fÊte champÊtre, we kindled a few extra fires, re-formed, and re-trod our way to the top of the pass in time for supper. The first brigade had taken possession of the boarded and well-roofed huts, constructed by the French with the utmost regularity, as if they had anticipated the occupation of them during the approaching winter. My messmates had already made themselves quite at home in one of them, and the cook was busily employed in roasting a nice piece of beef, which had been extracted out of a little cavity, dug by the late occupier, to keep it fresh and cool, no doubt for some contemplated feast. While partaking of this delicious morceau, we failed not to remember the original provider, the French officer; while he, less fortunate, most probably spent the night in a cold bivouac, or under a gun, in the entrenchments near St. Jean de Luz.

During the whole night the fatigue parties continued to arrive from Santa Barbara, with their knapsacks, which had been left there;⁵ and also carrying, in blankets or in bearers, the wretched wounded soldiers, whom they had discovered, by their groans, amongst chasms, cavities, or beneath the prickly briars on the broken sides of the mountains. Many unfortunate soldiers had fallen into deep ravines or hollows; and their dead bodies were subsequently discovered by those who accidentally wandered off the beaten tracts amongst these difficult acclivities.

The right wing of the army in their turn demonstrated during the combat of the 7th, guarding the mountains from Echalar to Roncesvalles; while the left wing, after the combat, held the ridge from the rock of la Rhune (which the enemy evacuated on the 8th), to the Bay of Biscay; which totally dispossessed the right of the French army from the mountains of Commissari, Mandale, and the height of Hendaye. As soon as the French had evacuated the mountain of la Rhune, the first brigade of our division moved to its right, and encamped in a forest within half a mile of its base. The second brigade took our post at the puerta de Bera.

In the middle of October the weather became cold and dismal, and the rains poured down in torrents. The Spaniards having seized a fort, in the French territory, in the valley below the pass of Echalar, the enemy one night retook it, by a coup de main, putting many of the Spaniards to death before they could recover from their surprise, or even put on their accoutrements. A desultory skirmish however continued the whole of the following day by the Spaniards, who seemed particularly attached to this mode of warfare, although the French evidently gained ground; which circumstance forced five companies of our regiment to take post on the rock to prevent the French from following the Spaniards to the top, and driving them from it. Night put an end to these long shots, and this waste of ammunition.

Every other day it fell to my lot to ascend this rock on duty, with a huge telescope slung on my back, to report to the General, in writing, any movements of the enemy. From this pinnacle their bivouacs might be seen from right to left. This duty was extremely disagreeable: the custom was to start at daylight from the saturated camp, attended by an orderly, and a mule loaded on one side with fire wood, and on the other with a tea kettle, provisions, and a blanket. La Rhune was bare and comfortless, and often wrapped for whole days in a chilly mist. On the east and west it was inaccessible, having only one narrow path way winding up the south; on the north side it sloped down gradually towards la Petite la Rhune being composed of tremendous overlapping slabs of rock, presenting the most desolate aspect.

One day, while on this duty, I observed a numerous retinue of French staff-officers emerge from behind la Petite la Rhune, and from their motions and gestures it was evident that they were examining the most commanding eminences for the purpose of constructing works for its defence. The whole of them were in uniform, with large cocked hats,⁶ blue pantaloons, and boots with brown tops.

Some hundreds of Spaniards⁷ were bivouacked round the old ruins of the hermitage at the top of this mountain, where, for want of good clothing, and owing to the cold nights, they were in the most miserable and forlorn state, and had barely a sufficiency of provisions to keep life and soul together; these necessary comforts were irregularly served out, and in such small quantities, that the cravings of hunger were seldom or ever satisfied. When they were fortunate enough to get a meal, the ceremony of eating it was very curious: the rations for twenty or thirty men were mixed in a large kettle or cauldron, round which they formed a circle and approached it, one at a time, from the right, each dipping in his spoon, and then resuming his original place, to make the most of it, until it came again to his turn. In this manner they continued to advance and retire, with the utmost circumspection, until the whole of it was consumed. Their clothing was ragged and miserable as their fare: uniforms of all countries and all the colours of the rainbow, French chakos without peaks, leather and brass helmets, rusty muskets, and belts which had never been cleaned since in their possession. Some had old brown cloaks, with empty knapsacks and hempen sandals, and others were with torn shoes and almost bare-footed.

At the solitary roll of the drum, they sometimes issued from their burrows, or cavities of the rocks like so many rabbits. One day while standing on a large slab of rock like a tomb stone, all at once, to my surprise, I felt it in motion, and on looking down perceived a slight smoke issuing from the crevices on each side, and, while stepping aside, the stone nearly gave way with me; several voices then cried out from below: "DemÓnio, demÓnio, que quiere usted!" when, springing off the ricketty foundation, to my astonishment, the slab was slowly lifted up on the heads of a dozen Spaniards, who were crouching in the cave, envelopped in the fumes of cigarras which they smoked to keep themselves warm, to drive away hunger, and to beguile the tedious hours!

Before the troops quitted this chilly region, many of the sentinels were so benumbed with cold, that they fell down with stiffened limbs, and were obliged to be carried from their posts.

One day, being as usual on the look out, I saw the French hard at work in constructing three forts on la Petite la Rhune, which were built with pieces of rock and loose stones, with incredible labour; and a long string of the enemy, by single files, reached into the valley behind the small mountain, and were traversing backwards and forwards like a swarm of ants, being employed in handing up the stones from one to the other.

In the evening another officer and myself were winding beneath the base of the rock of the great la Rhune, on our return to camp, when a large stone bounded over our heads, and on looking above, we observed an officer of our regiment, (who was on picquet,) pushing down the wall of the old ruin from the summit of the mountain, and calling out to us, in derision, to keep out of the way. Fortunately we found a projecting rock, underneath which we screened ourselves from the broken fragments that came tumbling down with nearly the velocity of cannon balls, making terrific bounds of two or three hundred yards at a time, and rolling into the distant valley with a terrible crash. We saw one piece of rock strike a tree in the forest below, and shiver the trunk asunder; and in this way our antagonist kept us prisoners until it was nearly dark, for whenever we made an effort to move, down tumbled more stones, which obliged us to run back to our hiding place. Having, at last, effected our escape, we vowed vengeance, and on meeting him (when relieved from picquet), we got our spears in readiness to put our threats into execution. These poles or spears we carried in imitation of the Basque mountaineers, to assist us up the jagged rocks; and, after long practise, we could throw them twenty or thirty yards with great velocity, and almost with unerring aim and precision. He reminded us however, of a circumstance which induced us to let him off, namely, that a party of us had nearly drowned him in the river Agueda, two years before. He was a very expert swimmer, but he annoyed those who went to bathe to such a degree, by splashing them, that one day, when he was in the middle of the river, we sallied from behind the rocks, on both banks of the river, encircled him, and gave him such a ducking, that it was with the utmost difficulty he could reach the shore, after a lesson which had induced him to behave with more gentleness for the future.

During the month of October,⁸ our days passed tediously, and we resorted to the most simple pastimes, whenever the weather would admit of a ramble. Sometimes we fired with ball at the eagles and vultures; and at others, chased the herds of wild ponies, which browsed in the sequestered valleys of the Pyrenees. They were hardly beyond the size of wolf-dogs, and had wiry coats, and long shaggy manes and tails. It was astonishing to see these sure-footed little animals, with small heads and wild eyes, capering, prancing, and darting through the underwood, and up and down the steep acclivities.

One day a Spanish soldier brought to our camp a pretty little fat pony for sale; and after a good deal of bargaining, he sold it to our mess for twelve dollars. The following morning a Spanish officer deliberately walked up to the tree, to which our animals were tied, and to our surprise demanded his pony. We assured him we had purchased it; but as he declared it had been stolen from him, and had witnesses at hand to identify the animal, we were obliged to give it up, with the loss of our twelve dollars, for we knew not where to search for the picaro, or dispensero mayÓr, who had so completely jockied us. It behoved us to put up with the loss as philosophically as might be.

While the heavy rains continued, in the beginning of November, we were obliged to construct wicker-work huts, to save the horses, mules, and milch goats from perishing during the inclemency of the weather; for days together our tents were pierced by the heavy rains, and often, being without candles and other little comforts, in self-defence, we had to lie down in our damp blankets, to endeavour to pass the tedious hours of the night.

Two or three evenings before we broke up our camp for the grand invasion of France, we were much diverted by the doleful cries of an owl, which had perched itself in the deep recess of an adjacent valley, and, whenever imitated by us, failed not to return our mockery in her very best and most plaintive screeches!

At this time the weather cleared up, and the three-pounders, mountain guns, passed through our wooded camp. The carriages, guns, ammunition boxes, and iron balls, were strapped separately on the backs of a string of powerful mules; and these guns could be, therefore, conveyed so as to bear on the enemy from cliffs, or craggy elevations. The sure-footed mules would ascend or descend steeps, dried water-courses, or crooked goat-tracks; and would pick their steps from rock to rock, planting their feet cautiously for a good foundation, or a firm hold.