STORMING OF SAN SEBASTIAN.

The engineer officer352 who led the column to assault the breach was badly wounded; and after witnessing the retreat of the assailants, thus describes the subsequent events:—

“My attention,” he says, “a short time afterwards, was aroused by an exclamation from the soldier lying next to me,—‘Oh, they are murdering us all!’ Upon looking up, I perceived a number of French grenadiers, under a heavy fire of grape, sword in hand, stepping over the dead, and stabbing the wounded; my companion was treated in the same manner; the sword withdrawn from his body, and reeking with his blood, was raised to give me the coup de grace, when fortunately the uplifted arm was arrested by a smart little man, a serjeant, who cried out, ‘Oh, mon Colonel, Êtes-vous blessÉ!’ and immediately ordered some of his men to remove me into the town. They raised me in their arms, and carried me, without the slightest difficulty, up the breach on to the ramparts of the right flanking tower; here we were stopped by a captain of the grenadiers, who asked some questions, then kissed me, and desired the party to proceed to the hospital. On passing the embrasures of the high curtain, we were exposed to a very sharp musketry fire from the trenches; and here it was that we met the governor and his staff in full-dress uniforms, hurrying to the breach. He asked me if I was badly wounded, and directed that proper care should be taken of me.”

A fortunate mistake thus saved the gallant subaltern,—and a blue uniform and gold bullion epaulette, indirectly became the means of his preservation.

Treated coarsely by a drunken officer, who tore his sword and belt away, Colonel Jones was carried to the hospital. A French soldier was instantly turned out of bed to accommodate the prisoner. He was dressed skilfully by the surgeons, visited by the governor, and received generally the kindest treatment. His wounds were speedily convalescent, and in a few days he was enabled to move into the gallery running round the court-yard of the hospital, which was a house of considerable size, built in the usual Spanish style, having a court-yard in the centre, with a large entrance-door from the street—galleries from each story running round it, into which all the doors and windows of the rooms respectively opened, excepting on the side of the street.

From the height of the buildings the prospect was almost limited to the sky,—while within, the convalescent had scenes presented which generally are not obtruded on those who have themselves been sufferers.

“One day, whilst sitting in the gallery, I observed a table placed in the one below me, and on the opposite side of the court-yard; immediately afterwards, an unfortunate French gunner was laid upon it, and both his arms amputated, his hands having been blown off by an accident in one of the batteries. In the course of the morning, whilst conversing with the surgeon who had performed the operation, he told me that he acted contrary to his instructions, which were, never to amputate, but to cure if possible. And upon asking the reason for such an inhuman order having been issued, his reply was the emperor did not wish that numbers of mutilated men should be sent back to France, as it would make a bad impression upon the people. I replied, ‘You must be a bold man to act in opposition to this order.’ He said, ‘Affairs are beginning to change, and, moreover, circumstances make it necessary that the soldiers should know they will be taken proper care of in the event of being wounded, and not left to die like dogs; we send as many as we can at night to Bayonne by the boats—thus we clear out the hospitals, and are relieved from a great deal of labour.’”

In the course of Colonel Jones’s conversation with French officers, many facts which transpired shewed the terrific outrages on moral principle involved in Napoleon’s theory of making “war support war.” One example illustrates the practice.

“In discoursing about the expeditions that detachments of their troops frequently made from the great stations, for a period of eighteen or twenty days, I inquired how they managed to provision them for so long a time. The answer was, ‘Our biscuits are made with a hole in the centre, and each biscuit is the ration for a day; sometimes twenty are delivered to each individual, who is given to understand that he has no claims upon the commissariat for the number of days corresponding with the number of biscuits he receives.’ I observed it was not possible for the soldier to carry them. ‘We know that very well; but then he has no claim upon the government for that period, and we do not inquire how he lives in the interim!’”

Now mark the consequences of this infernal system, as it was gathered from the same authorities. “They detailed acts committed by their soldiers in Spain, so revolting to human nature, that I dare not commit them to paper; the reader would be disgusted with the recital, and my veracity impeached; and equally incredulous should I have been, had not the narrators declared they had witnessed the scenes which they had described.”

It is certain that during the conduct of the Peninsular campaign, the espionage employed on both sides was most extensive,—and like melo-dramatic farce, occasionally diversified the more serious business of the piece enacting. In the humblest individuals the most effective agents were sometimes found. A barber and a priest enabled Lord Wellington to cross the Douro; and as humble an individual might have opened the entrance into San Sebastian, sealed as it was against a victorious army and means never exceeded by any general who had ever sat down before a fortress,—had fortune only permitted another barber’s agency to have been carried into effect. “From my first entrance into the hospital, I had been attended by a Spanish barber, in whose house a French officer was billeted. As I could speak Spanish fluently, we had a great deal of conversation. He used to communicate to me all he heard and saw of what was passing both inside and outside the fortress. When he learnt that I was an engineer, he offered to bring me a plan of all the under-ground drains and aqueducts for bringing water into the town. Monsieur Joliffe, our attendant, although a good-natured man, kept a sharp eye on the barber; and in consequence, it was difficult for him to give me any thing without being detected. At last, one morning, when preparing for the operation of shaving me, he succeeded in shoving a plan under the bedclothes. I anxiously seized the earliest opportunity of examining it; and, from the knowledge I had previously acquired of the place, soon became acquainted with the directions of the drains, &c. From that moment my whole attention was fixed on the means of making my escape. I knew that the hospital was situated in the principal street, the ends of which terminated upon the fortifications bounding the harbour or the sea. If once I could gain the street, I had only to turn to the right or left to gain the ramparts, and to make my escape from the town in the best manner I could. One evening just at dusk, when the medical men took leave of us for the night, one of them left his cocked hat on my bed. As soon as I made the discovery, I put it on my head, hurried down stairs, and made direct for the great door. I found it so completely blocked up by the guard, that unless by pushing them aside, it was not possible to pass without being discovered; I therefore retreated up stairs in despair, and threw the hat down on the bed. Scarcely had I done so, when in rushed the doctor, inquiring for his lost chapeau.”

As I have alluded to the unscrupulous means resorted to to obtain information, I may apprize you here, that it was a matter of surprise to all who were not aware of the extensive espionage employed on both sides, how accurately Lord Wellington and the French marshals to whom he was opposed were acquainted with the objects and the capabilities of each other. At Lisbon, many persons in immediate connection with the Regency were more than suspected of holding a correspondence with the French; and their treachery was encouraged by the culpable misconduct of the Portuguese government in not punishing criminals whose treasons had been established beyond a question. The English newspapers were regularly transmitted from Paris by Napoleon; and they teemed with intelligence mischievously correct, and that too, from the head-quarters of the Allied army;—and though a circumstance of rare occurrence—if an intimation of what he intended to attempt escaped from Lord Wellington’s lips to the Spaniards with whom he was in communication, through the indiscretion of these individuals it was sure to reach the enemy. He says, writing to his brother,—“I apprized —— of my intention and plan for attacking Ciudad Rodrigo, and him alone, the success of which depends principally upon the length of time during which I can keep it concealed from the enemy. Some Spanish women at Portalegre were apprized of the plan by him, and it must reach the enemy!!! Yet —— is one of the best of them.”

Through the correspondence intercepted by the guerillas, Lord Wellington constantly obtained the most valuable information. This was generally contained in letters from the French generals themselves, intended to direct the movements of their colleagues. Although their despatches were written in cipher, the Allied leader generally contrived to find out the key which unveiled their contents; and his own secret espionage was even more extensive than the enemy’s. “He had a number of spies amongst the Spaniards who were living within the French lines; a British officer in disguise constantly visited the French armies in the field; a Spanish state-counsellor, living at the head-quarters of the first corps, gave intelligence from that side; and a guitar-player of celebrity, named Fuentes, repeatedly making his way to Madrid, brought advice from thence. Mr. Stuart, under cover of vessels licensed to fetch corn from France, kept chasse-marÉes constantly plying along the Biscay coast, by which he not only acquired direct information, but facilitated the transmission of intelligence from the land spies, amongst whom the most remarkable was a cobbler, living in a little hutch at the end of the bridge of Irun. This man, while plying his trade, continued for years, without being suspected, to count every French soldier that passed in or out of Spain by that passage, and transmitted their numbers by the chasse-marÉes to Lisbon.”353 But to return to Colonel Jones’s interesting recollections:—

“It appeared that there was a very great difference in the accuracy of firing by the troops in the trenches. The chief of the staff, Monsieur Songeon, inquired what description of troops we had that fired so well. He said, ‘Some days I can look over the parapets without the slightest molestation; on other days it is not possible to shew my nose, without the certainty of being shot.’”

The extensive preparations for opening the Allied fire upon the place naturally caused much uneasiness to the garrison.

“One morning, a captain of artillery, whom I had never before seen, came into the ward, and commenced conversing about the siege, addressing himself particularly to me; he observed that the whole second parallel was one entire battery; and if there were as many guns as there were embrasures, he said, ‘we shall be terribly mauled.’ My reply was, ‘Most assuredly you will; depend upon it there are as many guns as embrasures, it is not our fashion to make batteries, and stick logs of wood into them in the hopes of frightening an enemy. He made a grimace, and with a shrug of his shoulders walked out of the ward. The following morning the surgeon came, as usual, to dress our wounds; this was about half-past seven; all was still, and he joyously exclaimed, as he entered, ‘So we have another day’s reprieve!’ In about half an hour afterwards, and whilst I was under his hands, the first salvo from the breaching batteries was fired; several shots rattled through the hospital, and disturbed the tranquillity of the inmates; the instrument dropped from the surgeon’s hands, and he exclaimed, Le jeu sera bientÔt fini! and then very composedly went on with his work.

“After the breaching batteries had opened their fire, I was asked by a French officer whether I thought that the prisoners would remain quiet when an assault of the breach should take place; and he added, if they were to make any attempts, they would all be shot. I replied, ‘You may depend upon it that, if any opportunity offers, they will not be backward in taking advantage of it; do not fancy you have a flock of sheep penned within these walls; and happen what may, shoot us or not, you will be required to give a satisfactory account of us when the castle is taken.’” On the morning of the storm (the 21st of August), the roll of musketry announced that the trial had begun,—and the intermediate space of time, until the fall of San Sebastian had been ascertained, was one of painful solicitude to the prisoners in the keep.

“From the commencement of the assault, until the rush into the castle upon the capture of the town, not the slightest information could we obtain as to the state of affairs at the breach. The period that intervened was one of the most anxious and painful suspense: at last the tale was told, and who can describe the spectacle the interior of the hospital presented. In an instant the ward was crowded with the wounded and maimed; the amputation-table again brought into play; and until nearly daylight the following morning, the surgeons were unceasingly at work. To have such a scene passing at the foot of my bed, was sufficiently painful; added to this, the agonizing shrieks and groans, and the appearance of the grenadiers and sappers, who had been blown up by the explosion of the breach—their uniforms nearly burnt off, and their skins blackened and scorched by gunpowder—was truly appalling, the recollection of which can never be effaced from the memories of those whose ill fate compelled them to witness it. The appearance of these men resembled anything but human beings: death soon put an end to their sufferings, and relieved us from these most distressing sights. Of all wounds, whether of fractured limbs or otherwise, those occasioned by burns from gunpowder appeared to be accompanied with the most excruciating pain and constant suffering.”

Nor did the sufferings of the wounded end with their removal from the breach; for one sad visitation of war followed fast upon the other.

“After the capture of the town, a heavy bombardment of the castle took place, by salvos of shells from upwards of sixty pieces of artillery; the short interval of time which elapsed between the report of the discharge of the guns and mortars, and the noise of the descent of the shells, was that of a few seconds only. The effect of these salvos by day, terrific and destructive as they proved, was little heeded in comparison with the nightly discharges. Those of the wounded and mutilated who were fortunate enough to have found temporary relief from their sufferings by sleep, were awakened to all the horrors and misery of their situation by the crash of ten or a dozen shells falling upon and around the building, and whose fuzes threw a lurid light into the interior of the ward; the silence within, unbroken save by the hissing of the burning composition; the agonizing feelings of the wounded during these few moments of suspense are not to be described. No one could feel assured of escaping the destruction which was a certain attendant upon the explosion, to be immediately succeeded by the cries and groans of those who were again wounded.

“Many an unfortunate soldier was brought to the amputation-table to undergo a second operation; and in the discharge of this painful duty the medical men were engaged nearly the entire night. As to rest, none could be obtained or expected with such scenes passing around a person’s bed. The legs and arms, as soon as amputated, were carried out, and thrown away on the rocks. It was a novel, and by no means an agreeable sight, but one which I was daily compelled to witness.”

The tremendous effects produced by the British projectiles are vividly described, and it is hard to decide whether the shrapnel or common shell was most destructive.

“The effects of the vertical fire in the interior of the castle immediately after the capture of the town were so destructive and annoying, that, had it been continued six hours longer, the garrison, I have no doubt, would have surrendered at discretion. The officers were loud in their complaints at the obstinacy of the governor, as they said, in uselessly sacrificing the lives of the soldiers. They had lost all hope, or nearly so, that Soult could make any successful attempt for their relief. During this period everybody sought shelter where best he could among the rocks; still no nook or corner appeared to be a protection from the shrapnel-shells. A sergeant of the Royals, standing at the foot of my bedstead, was killed by a ball from a shrapnel-shell, and fell dead upon me. An Italian soldier, who had been appointed to attend upon the wounded prisoners, whilst endeavouring, close to the hospital door, to prepare some bouillon for our dinner, was, with his marmite, blown into the air; and so ended, for the day, all hopes of obtaining a little nourishment. Life and bustle had disappeared; scarcely an individual was to be seen moving about.

“The shriek of the bullets from the shrapnel-shell is very different from the whistle of a musket-ball; and oft repeated was the exclamation, Ah! ces sacrÉs boulets creux!

“It may not be unworthy of remark, that the bullets discharged from a shrapnel-shell assume the form of a polygonal prism. A French officer showed me one that had just been extracted from a wounded man; he anxiously inquired whether they were of that form when put into the shell. I afterwards observed the same in many others, which, at my request, were handed to me by the operating surgeons.

“The excellence of the British artillery is well known. Nothing could surpass the precision with which the shells were thrown, and the accuracy with which the fuzes were cut. It is only those who have had the opportunity of witnessing their fire, and comparing it with that of the French, that can speak of its superiority. During the siege, we little heeded the lazy French shells thrown into the batteries or trenches. From the length of the fuzes, sufficient time was almost always allowed, before bursting, to put ourselves under cover; and, when they did burst, the splinters flew lazily around. On the contrary, when the sound of an English shell was heard in the castle, or when the man stationed in the donjon cried, Garde la bombe, everybody was on the alert. The velocity of its flight far exceeded that of the French. Touching the ground and bursting were almost simultaneous; and then the havoc and destruction caused by the splinters were tremendous.

“None but those who have been exposed to the effects of shrapnel-shells can fully appreciate the advantages of possessing such a terrific and destructive missile. It appeared to be of little avail where a man placed himself for protection. No place was secure from them; and many a soldier was wounded without having been aware that any shell had exploded in his neighbourhood.”

With an episode in which the fair sex are introduced, and where French gallantry does not appear advantageously, I shall close my observations on the sieges— “There were,” says Colonel Jones, “three French ladies in the garrison—the widow and two daughters of a French commissary-general who had died in Spain: they were on their way to France when the investment took place. These ladies were permitted to enter the hospital, and were allowed a small place at one end of the wooden bedstead, where they remained for several days and nights; the only water they could obtain to wash since the island of Santa Clare had been in the possession of the besiegers, was the same that we had,—sea-water, which the attendants contrived to procure by descending the rocks at the back of the castle. The small quantity of fresh water obtained from the tank during the night was reserved for cookery or drinking, which was greatly needed by the troops during the fatigue and heat to which they were exposed at this very hot season of the year. As the number of the wounded increased, so the accommodation in the hospital became more restricted. Some of the officers who were lying upon the floor were loud in their complaints, that Madame and her daughters were occupying the space which properly belonged to them; they succeeded in getting the ladies turned out to find shelter from shot and shell where they best could! The day the castle capitulated, I went in search of my fair companions, and found them nearly smoke-dried, under a small projecting rock. One of the young ladies was extremely pretty, and shortly after the siege was married to the English commissary appointed to attend on the garrison until they embarked for England. The change from the hospital to the naked rock, however, relieved them from witnessing many a painful scene, as the amputating-table was placed at the bottom of the bedstead in that part of the room allotted to their use.”