In the British army there was only one provost in a division of perhaps eight or ten regiments. Again, no officer, not even the provost himself, could order a dozen lashes unless he found the man in the act of plundering. Below is given a G. O.[[27]] issued by the Duke of Wellington.

I had the misfortune to lose a fine active young officer of my company, a Second Lieutenant named Robinson. In crossing the river from Bilboa in the dark, by some accident he fell overboard and was drowned. His body was not found until next morning. His father is Captain and Paymaster in the 60th regiment. This unfortunate young man, like a number of others who died in Spain, had an excellent kit, which was sold amongst the officers of our regiment.

CHAPTER XXVII.

Intention of the Spanish Government respecting our winter quarters—March to Vittoria—Enemy oblige us to go round—The rear of the Legion engaged—Baggage divided from it—Commencement of the plunder at Bilboa—Arrival at Castro—Enemy supposed to be in the vicinity—We remain at Castro—March the next day—Mountainous route—An accident—The pass of Las Goras—March to Bonia—My company placed in the advance—Orders to prepare for cavalry—Doubts and fears—A narrow escape—Arrival at Breviesca—Breviesca—Head Quarters—My old Patrone—Hints to revolutionists—System of regular drill begun—Riflemen drilled collectively—I practice my company in sham fighting—Provosts and hardship—Lay in a winter stock of sickness—Legion paid up to November, 1835—Last payment—March of death—We march for Vittoria—Pass of Pancorbo—The dead Patrone—Approach to Vittoria—My old recollections—The 45th—Halt about three miles from the city—Spanish troops come out to meet us—Triumphant entry into Vittoria—The veteran Colonel.

In pursuance of the intention of the Spanish Government that the auxiliaries should winter and complete their military discipline in Vittoria or Breviesca, on the 30th of October, 1835, the Legion, in conjunction with a division under Espartero, commenced its march to those places. It was well known that at this period the enemy were anticipating our movements and intended destination, and learning that our route would be on the Durango road, they posted themselves in great strength to give us a warm reception. The formidable attitude of the Carlists, however, induced General Evans to abandon this direct line of march upon Vittoria, not more than twelve leagues distant, and to take a more circuitous, and almost pathless route, of sixty leagues, over a difficult and mountainous district.

The main body of the Legion started about six in the morning, but the whole had not quitted till late at noon, when closed in upon their rear by the Guerillas and Carlist peasantry. They became separated from the baggage, which, but for the contiguity of Bilboa, would have been all taken. The consequence was, that almost the whole returned, and was supposed to have been placed under the care of the British Consul and the Alcalde of the city, who, in conjunction with a few others, actively employed, may be said to have originated the plunder which subsequently devoured almost all the luggage of the Legion officers; quantities without lists, or any regular accounts, having been indiscriminately heaped in stores, and thence as carelessly embarked for Santander.

Meanwhile, on the second day’s march, we came to Castro, where, as we expected to meet the enemy, my company was selected to form a rear-guard in the event of the Carlists attacking our rear. Near the town, as expected, a number of the Guerillas, who were always on the look-out, fired on our rear sections, and a poor fellow of the Westminster Grenadiers, who through fatigue had straggled from his regiment, was shot through the thigh. I instantly started a few old soldiers after them, who very soon put them to flight. This was the first time that I had heard the whistle of a Carlist ball. I then placed the wounded soldier on my pony till we arrived at Castro, where we halted for the night. We found this place to be a wretchedly filthy hole; a sea-port on the Bay of Biscay, and then occupied by two regiments, and some artillery of the Queen’s troops.

At daybreak the next morning, we left Castro, and after an advance of five or six miles, a Spanish officer who had been riding rapidly to overtake us, informed the General that the enemy were again advantageously posted, and in great strength, awaiting our arrival a few miles further on. On this intelligence we were again ordered to the right-about. However, my company, who were on the advance in the morning with some Lancers, received orders from General Reid to remain where we were, until the main body had reached the bottom of a hill, about two miles distant; but expecting to see the Carlists fast advancing upon us, I thought it more prudent to follow in quick time, with the Lancers behind us. We remained for the night in the small villages round Castro.

The next day’s march was a very harassing one. Our route led over high mountains, with scarcely a path, and almost unknown even to our guides; however, for my own part, this was compensated for by one of the most majestic pieces of scenery I ever beheld. The country around us was beautifully romantic; the Bay of Biscay, from our elevated position, appearing but a short distance off, while the clouds which encircled that part in our view, kept circling upwards and throwing a reflection on the serene surface of the sea, that seemed almost enchanting.

At the entrance of a small village on the hill just mentioned, the rifle of a Sergeant Johnson, of my company, while on trail, went off, and shot a man named Neal, the ball entering at the back and passing out at the groin. We conducted him to a house where, for want of conveyance, we were obliged to leave him to the mercy of the mountain peasantry; this poor fellow, strange to say, was brother to the man who, the night of our landing, had been shot by the sentry at Portugaletta. They were both fine young men, and deserved a better fate.