Embark for San Sebastian—A thirty-two-pounder, and no mistake—A bloody force—Brains where they were wanted, unfortunately—A prize—Arrival at San Sebastian—Anticipated attack—Colonel de Rottenberg taken ill—Major Fortescue—Opinions—His maiden speech—Two companies broke up the others of the regiment—5th of May—Attack on the lines of San Sebastian—A hullabaloo—6th Scotch taken for enemies—Helter-skelter—I receive a severe wound—Am carried into San Sebastian—My letter to my wife.

On the 21st of April, about six in the evening, four companies of the Rifles were shipped on board an English steamer, under the command of Commodore Henry, with orders to convey us to San Sebastian. I was enjoying a comfortable sleep about six o’clock the following morning, when I was awoke by the thundering rattle of a thirty-two-pounder. This rather electrified me; and, on jumping on deck, I found the vessel had laid-to about half a mile from the shore—the jolly-boat lowered and manned with soldiers and sailors, and in full pull after two of the enemy’s fishing-boats, which, with a few soldiers on board of them, were smartly exchanging shots with ours. The report of the firing, however, attracted the attention of a picquet of theirs, stationed near the water’s edge, who immediately threw themselves amongst the rocks, and covered the landing of their comrades, while the Commodore kept blazing away at them with his thirty-two’s. The Carlists, jumping on land, and deserting their boats, made up the rocks to join their comrades; our fellows, in the meanwhile, rowing after them till within point-blank reach of the picquet, who instantly began a most spirited retaliation.

In the midst of this a Captain N——, of the Rifles, formerly a Pedroite, who had volunteered for the enterprise, suddenly disappeared under the seats of the boat in search of shelter, whilst the men, of their own accord, gallantly returned the fire. They succeeded in bringing away the two boats, but not before we had lost two men; one sailor, and a soldier, a man of my own company, named Macnamara, who was shot through the head, and fell at full length on the prostrate body of the terrified Captain, and literally drenched him with blood and brains. Thus ended the silly adventure, at the sacrifice of two lives. The boats not being worth twenty shillings, were instantly scuttled, and the two men being dropped overboard, the steamer continued its way. About four in the afternoon we entered the Bay of San Sebastian, amidst the whistling shots of the enemy, who were firing upon us from the hills surrounding the harbour; but their distance from us precluded the possibility of much danger.

In San Sebastian, for the first time, our men were comfortably quartered. But our besiegers, who from appearances, were very numerous, gave us every reason to expect a regular brush. They were very strongly entrenched on the opposite hills, and held complete command of the bay.

At this period, I am sorry to state, our Colonel, Baron de Rottenberg, fell sick, and obtained leave of absence; the command of the battalion devolved of course, on the Major, the next in seniority, named Fortescue.

This was rather an unfortunate promotion, both for the gentleman and the regiment, as it placed the former in no enviable situation, a few days after; indeed, it was a mad idea to expect that a young man, who had been but a short period a Lieutenant in the 4th British Foot, could be properly intrusted with the lives of four or five hundred men at his discretion; when in action, from what I myself had observed, he was not capable of telling off a company. Baron de Rottenberg, however, who is now serving on the British Staff in America, formerly commanded the Light Company of the 81st regiment, and was one of the most efficient and best disciplined officers I ever witnessed. In fact, as the Colonel informed me, his father General de Rottenberg, was the originator of the rifle exercise.

On the 4th May, at evening parade, the Rifles were assembled on the Plaza, and the regiment being formed into square, facing inwards, our new Commander, Major Fortescue thus addressed us:

“Rifles! to-morrow, we are to be engaged with the enemy: they show no quarter—neither shall we—skewer every man of them—take no prisoners—skewer every b—— you meet!” Meanwhile the Major imitated a charge with a stick he held in his hand, the men staring with surprise both at him and the order. “Now,” said he, taking off his cap, “let us have three cheers, my lads,” and commencing the uproar, the men joined, and the whole Plaza rung again.

This was his maiden speech, and I leave it to the reader to judge of its effects, both on officer and man; indeed, on marching to the private parade ground, I inquired of the Major if he had received the order from the General. “No!” he replied, rather sharply, “I have not; but you know, Costello, it will be only tit for tat.”

Being satisfied of this, I took the opportunity when halting the men, to undo what he had so earnestly wished to impress, by telling them, that the order they had just received to butcher every enemy we met, was not issued by General Evans, and that they came to Spain to be soldiers, not butchers. However blood-thirsty the enemy, we as British soldiers were bound to set a very different example, and to treat with less rigour those who might fall into our hands. I then requested my two lieutenants to use their exertions, and see that the men gave quarter.

About twelve o’clock the next night, the Legion prepared themselves for the test, and the inhabitants of the town were all alive for the forthcoming effort. Prior to our marching, General Reid who commanded our brigade, broke up two of our companies, as he thought the officers in command of them incompetent, and distributed the men amongst the battalion, thus forming the regiment into four companies, each from eighty to ninety strong.

About three in the morning we slowly moved through the gates towards the enemy’s lines, which were not more than three-quarters of a mile distant. The Rifles were on the extreme left of the Legion, and our battalion marched left in front, so that my company brought up the rear.

The morning was very dull and heavy, being ushered in by a kind of Scotch mist. The men, however, were in great spirits, and seemed determined to prove themselves worthy of their British name: my confidence in them was such, that I almost imagined myself in the midst of my old comrades, and panted like an old hunter for the course.

In a few minutes we commenced ascending the hills, when the enemy opened a brisk fire on us, thus showing they were not to be caught napping; and now the well-known sound—the whistling balls passed over my head—that music at one time so familiar to my ears, that I have often been obliged to breakfast, dine, and sup upon its harmony; this brought my younger days to recollection, as if I had recoiled twenty years; the Rifles, however, took possession of their first lines, without firing a shot or losing a man.

Meanwhile, we could hear a very smart firing on our right, where the 7th, 9th, and 10th regiments were hotly engaged; however, as the morning cleared, and the Carlists discovered where we were, they began to play very warmly amongst us. The more the shots flew, the greater confusion among the officers, for each imagining his tactics better than his neighbour, assumed the command (especially the Pedroites). This was further encouraged by “certain drops” which the rawness of the morning, and the “business in hand,” had influenced them to sip rather plentifully, while waiting in the Plaza.

In this hullabaloo, Lieutenant Macintosh of our regiment, then aide-de-camp to General Reid coming up restored some little order, and actually took command of the regiment, ordering us to march down a lane, a little to our right, where he placed the battalion behind a bank, opposite a Carlist breast-work; here we formed right in front—the enemy at this time appearing not more than four or five hundred yards off. We had scarcely formed and got into order, when our commanding officer, Major Fortescue, cried out, “No. 1 Company, quick march!”

The men instantly scrambled forward over the bank, that partially covered them; seeing this, I requested he would allow me to take command of my company, tell me what to do, and it should be complied with. But the Major was too brave a soldier himself, to allow me that honour, and replied only with the word, “Make ready, present fire!” and fire they did, and did some mischief too, for by the Major bringing up their left shoulders more than he should have done, they fired a volley into the 6th Scotch, who were some distance on our right front, and badly wounded fifteen or sixteen of their men;^[30] this done he instantly ordered the men to fall back behind the bank and reload, (no doubt to give a second dose) when I again requested to be allowed to take the command of my company, remarking that riflemen never fired by companies, but independently and in extended order. I also pointed out to him, his error in firing on the 6th, on which he answered, “You may take them where you like.”

This was all I required, and when the men had finished loading, I gave the word “right face,” and bringing them into the lane before-mentioned, we moved in the direction of the 6th who were busily at work. As we approached nearer to the scene of action, one or two of my men being wounded, I took one of their rifles and ten rounds of ammunition, and placing the men under cover, I inquired if they would follow me and undertake to storm a redoubt opposite? all quickly answered, “We will, Sir.” I begged them to be cool, and not to fire until they closed upon the breast-work, and then get under cover as soon as possible, extending from the centre; off we started, at double time, towards their second line of entrenchments.

I had to pass close to the 6th. Hearing a cheer in my rear, I turned and beheld the remainder of the Rifles in close column. The indefatigable Fortescue in front, twirling a large stick over his head, cheering and charging. At this moment, noticing a deep ravine on the left, I cried out to the men to bring up their left shoulders, and close to the right, so as to avoid it; but before this could be accomplished, the Major and his men got intermixed with the 6th. Here the confusion increased, helter-skelter, pell-mell, as the balls began to tell fearfully among us, while the enemy seeing our confusion, plied them to advantage, and to mend the matter, part of my company also became intermixed with the remainder of the battalion; endeavouring to get them into something like order, two balls struck me at the same moment, one grazing the skin of my left thigh, and the other entering under the right knee joint, passing downward through the ham, and out at the calf of the leg.

The brave fellows of my company stuck to me gallantly, and the instant I fell flew to my assistance and bore me to the rear. I was carried back to the lane, whence we started, and on my leg being dressed, I discovered that the ball had entered an old wound made by a French bullet at the action of Almeida, July 24th, 1810. But it had come out in a different direction. I was next placed on a stretcher and conveyed to my old quarters at San Sebastian. As the men were carrying me down the hill towards the town, I observed two steamers in full play, throwing shells into the Carlist redoubts. These mainly contributed to the success of the morning, by the skilful manner in which they directed their shells into the enemy’s works. When a little recovered from the loss of blood, after my arrival at my quarters, I wrote the following letter to my wife, which in some degree may serve to show my feelings and opinions at the time the action was fought:

“My dear Charlotte,

“I dare say by the time you receive this letter, the streets of London will be crowded with fellows bellowing out, ‘The unfortunate Legion is killed to a man, and poor Costello is no more.’ But if you have not purchased the widow’s weeds, I request you will not do so, as I am not yet half killed; certainly I have an extra ball through my old trunk: and this I should have escaped had I not exposed myself, perhaps rather unnecessarily, in endeavouring to keep the brave fellows of my company in something like military order.

“All were commanders, from the Second Lieutenant to the Major. It appeared to me, in truth, the Legion is not a school for the young soldier to acquire knowledge, nor the old to get credit. How different, indeed, were things carried on in the British Army: there, in the very height of the most desperate conflict, all was cool and collected, and every officer’s word could be distinctly heard, at the slightest cessation of firing.

“The officer who commanded our regiment to-day is a smart young fellow, and might be of some service in a country fair in Ireland, with a good shilelah; but to command four or five hundred men in action with fire-arms, against a hardy race of mountaineers well disciplined, is quite a different thing. I cannot say how many of our regiment were killed, as I was reluctantly compelled to leave them, by a ball passing through my right knee, yet I hope I shall not lose my limb. My kindest love to our dear children; but do not think the worst, my dear Charlotte,—you shall soon again hear from me.