I am told that the people at Hasparren, when the French approached the place last week, and it was thought might occupy it, were manifestly alarmed and dissatisfied, and wished us to stay. This might be from the fear of a conflict there, or from the benefits now derived from us, when the first irruption and mischief are over. Fowls are still, near there, to be had for 2s. each, and turkeys from 7s. to 9s.; but this will not last, as people here have given, and others now ask, as much as 12s. for fowls, and 30s. for turkeys, or even more. General Cole, as we advanced, bought nine geese, at a dollar each; and this was grand pay, and not from fear. Here they are 25s. each.
Later.—How uncertain everything is with us! Marshal Beresford’s aide-de-camp is just come in to Lord Wellington, and there is some stir on our right again. Lord Wellington and several others are off in that direction, and I am told the former stays out all night; this looks as if something was suspected. I dine to-day at head-quarters, and am to go as usual, though the chief is away. He asked me yesterday, but I told him that General Hill had asked me three days before, and expected me. “Very well,” said he, “but I advise you to come to me, nevertheless, as you will get a much better dinner, for General Hill gives the worst dinners going.” To General Hill’s, however, I went; and though plain fare, compared to Lord Wellington’s, whose table is just now very good, and much improved, I got a very good dinner.
If any dependence could be placed on appearances, I should say nothing important was going on to-day; for I saw Lord Wellington after he had seen the aide-de-camp, and he read a long letter quietly through, seeming quite at his ease; but he takes all that arises so coolly that this proves nothing. A sudden change again to rain will, in my opinion, damp the plans of the French, if they had any, as well as give all those gone off to the right a miserable ride, as it seems well set in for the day. Wind and wet seem here to be winter.
What a change has arisen for our young Prince of Orange who was here! I only hope he will not be spoilt by success and prosperity. In a little time, after all, it would not surprise me to hear of his looking back to the time he spent here at head-quarters as the pleasantest part of his life. Slender Billy was his nickname with those who were intimate with him, and he knew it; for one day, at dinner, Lord Fitzroy Somerset, not knowing that he was present, said, “Where is Slender Billy to-day?” Upon which the Prince put his head forward, and called out, “Here I am, Fitzroy; what do you want?”
January 12th.—Lord Wellington and his party came back to dinner yesterday. The cause of the bustle was as follows. We had in our possession a mill which belonged rather to the French position than to ours; they attacked it, and, after some brisk firing, it was abandoned to them, and then all was quiet again. This news passed Lord Wellington on the road, but missed him, or he would not have gone on as far as he did. Ustaritz is about fifteen good miles from hence, and the road in parts almost up to a horse’s belly. Lord Wellington rode there in the rain in two hours and ten minutes, and back in two hours and a half, up and down hills and through the clay: this proves a horse.
The next piece of news you will, probably, hear first: but if you should not, you have to learn that the cunning Bonaparte has been making a treaty with King Fernando VII. privately about a peace with Spain, and that he has sent it to the Cortes for their approval, and has appointed an ambassador for that purpose to Madrid. The gubernador, or preceptor and major domo of King Ferdinand, is either at Madrid or on his way thither. Spain, and Madrid in particular, is said to be in much agitation. The Cortes are to meet the 15th of January. This is a very artful plan to create jealousies between us, if not to procure a partial peace. We shall see now of what the Regency and Cortes are made. They have in professions bullied much, and resolved never to treat at all whilst a Frenchman remained in Spain. How they will act up to their resolution is now to be seen.
Friday, January 14th.—We have now French papers up to the 3rd from Paris, and have got Bonaparte’s valedictory address, on setting out for the army in France, to fight on old French territory. This, I think, if the Allies persist, must end the business soon, for if he is well beaten, there must certainly be a rising in France; and if he beats the Allies, we shall in my opinion have a peace, except that he seems determined, even now, not to give up Holland, and that we must at all events retain, if possible. The crisis is, however, apparently approaching, and that rapidly.
We remain here in statu quo. French desertion is diminishing, and seems for the moment quiet. The only event of interest has been the folly of two Portuguese officers near the Adour. They had had a long parley with the French, were, it is said, drinking together, but were somehow persuaded by their French new acquaintance to pass over the river for a dance, or wine, or some reason of that sort, under a promise of being allowed to return safe. They went, however, and have never got back. Lord Wellington has written to Gazan, reminding him of his having sent back six French soldiers, who were taken by the Portuguese in the heat of the campaign, owing to a similar promise or understanding, not having been known to them as made to the French. Lord Wellington claims the two Portuguese in the same way, as being taken by a breach of faith in the French officers. If this be not acceded to, he then requests that the two officers may be put for some time into close confinement or arrest, which, he says, they deserve, and might probably meet here if restored. As yet no answer is arrived.
A French dragoon of the 21st chasseurs, a deserter, came in yesterday, giving a curious account of his reason for deserting. He says he had been fourteen years in the French service, and was now a corporal; that his own captain’s nephew had lately joined as a private in his troop, and that he, the corporal, had to place this man on duty; that he was not tractable or obedient, and that he was obliged to strike him with the flat of his sword; that the nephew told the uncle, and, when they returned, the captain, as soon as he met the deserter, gave him a severe blow in the face with his fist; and that, in consequence, he immediately got on his horse, and came off to us. He is a fine-looking soldier: and, though he has sold his horse for a hundred dollars, says, that he now repents much what he was induced to do in the heat of the moment; but it is now too late—the deed is done, and he must persevere.
I forgot to tell you, in my last, of an act of Spanish violence at Vittoria, which has caused a strong sensation in the English army, especially at Vittoria. The Honourable Captain G——, of the 94th, was quartered there, and had had some intrigue with a girl. He at first took her home to his quarter. Her friends had recourse to the police. The armed police came, and were in the house to take the girl: Captain G—— resisted, and the police were fairly turned out again by him and his servant. When out of the house, they are said to have formed, as it were, and then to have fired in through the door in cool blood, and with no particular object as to taking Captain G——. The latter was shot, and died almost immediately. Had this happened during the conflict, it might have been correct enough, though rather harsh and unnecessary in an armed police against an individual for comparatively a trifling offence; but as the story is told, it is quite inexcusable, and seems to have been merely an act of spite and vexation, at having suffered themselves to be repulsed by the captain. It was revenge for having exposed their cowardice.