Head-quarters, St. Jean de Luz,
February 2, 1814.
My dear M——
Here we remain absolutely tied by the leg by the horrible state of the roads, and weather, and without any regular news from England. Nothing but reports on the side of France which would encourage us to proceed; and, on the sea-side, of heavy gales, and lost vessels. I am just now driven in by a furious hailstorm, and yet the weather is mild, and has been till this moment pleasant enough. We have two ships in the little bay here; one full of hay, which has been four days nearly within three hundred yards of the shore, and in hourly danger of drifting on the beach—yet we have not been able, in spite of our distress, to get out a truss; and the other a brig transport, empty, and driven in here by stress of weather. A frigate was also off here all yesterday, apparently labouring much, and fearful of the coast. We certainly have undertaken a bold thing in wintering in such a place, but it was a choice of difficulties.
If we had money we should do well, but that is as scarce as anything else. Plenty of supplies would come in from the right from the French, had we cash to give in return. As it is, in consequence of the little ready money we gave at first, a great quantity of cattle, food, &c., has been obtained, but now we are reduced to Treasury Bills, and that cannot last, and the loss is very great. Even the muleteers get a past payment now in those bills, and the consequence is that a person may buy them with dollars at the rate of 7s. 4d., and, I believe, 7s. 6d. a dollar. The army is also six months, and the staff seven months in arrear of their pay.
We have, however, I believe, plenty of bread and biscuit, and meal for a month with the army and corn at Passages in abundance. The short transport from thence is almost too much for us, and the supply is by no means general to the animals, whilst long forage is quite a rarity. The destruction in the oxen is frightful in the rear. Our great depôt is as far back as Palencia, and even there, in store, the cattle die very fast, and the moment they march they fall away to nothing and die by fifties. Our Commissary-general almost despairs of getting more up, although he has made depôts of bran and straw, &c., on the road, to try and obviate the total want of food. It is now in contemplation to ship cattle from St. Andero, where there is a store; but then we have rather a scarcity of naval transports also. Cattle would come in as fast as we wished from twenty leagues to our right, could we but pay for it. As it is, I am almost inclined to think that we shall, as a choice of evils, be obliged, in spite of the roads, to move towards our right in quest of food.
Two of the villages in that direction have justly incurred Lord Wellington’s displeasure by plundering and seizing our forage parties, of which we have lately lost several. One or two were taken by the peasants of those two villages, and Lord Wellington has issued a proclamation addressed to them and that country, reminding them that he told them to remain at home, and be quiet, and to take no part, and that if they did so he would protect them; but that he would not have this treachery in return. If they did not like this proposal, well and good, then let them quit their foyers and leave their villages, and take the consequence, and he should be prepared to meet them as enemies; but they must make this election. The curé of one of these villages was carried off as a hostage for their good behaviour in future. We have strong reports of commotions and internal dissatisfactions in France, and that Bonaparte is reduced to concentrate his army round Paris. If this be true Lord Wellington must be half mad about the roads. I find he is gone out to-day to look about him. Two nine-pounders have just drawn up opposite my windows with eight horses each, and the men have left their guns under the charge of the Provost guard. I suppose they are on the march. I must inquire what this means.
February 3rd.—The artillery is said to mean nothing; but still I think if we get fine weather for a week we shall have a start. In confirmation of what I have written above, as to the loss of cattle, I will give you two instances: three hundred and sixty head of convalescent bullocks, which had been left at Vittoria to get into order, were marched for the army; sixty only have arrived thus far, all the rest have been left at stations between, or been given to the different alcaldes, and receipts taken for them—a new mode lately adopted. Five hundred of another lot of fresh bullocks, collected at Palencia, were marched all this way, three hundred only have reached Vittoria, and all the bad road and scarcity of food is yet to come. This is really quite alarming.
February 3rd, later.—I find the guns mean nothing; they are only going on to the front to replace two now there, which are to come back to refit. Still, however, if we could but get fine weather, I think we should make a stir. Bets were going on as to a peace, or our being at Bayonne and across the Adour in six weeks; and symptoms of a move shortly are perceptible. The rain, however, continues. Colonel Bunbury made one attempt to go to the right of our army the day before yesterday, but only got half way, and is unwell in consequence. He is to leave this either in Lord Wellington’s carriage, or to go round by water to Passages. The sea is, however, quiet, and now only torments our anxious curiosity by throwing up parts of wrecks and bodies. A ship-cable, with the G.R., was found at Bidart, and three men and a woman. Some say that the latter had silk stockings on. One body cast up here was half eaten, and I saw a backbone only yesterday. The bodies of the mules float in and out every tide.
As a proof of the state of forage here, and of the manner in which we are imposed upon, five shillings were yesterday demanded for a sack of chopped furze from the surrounding hills, and thus sold in the market. Straw fetches two shillings for a small handful, of which a horse would eat two or three in a day.
I have just seen a Spanish Captain who was taken prisoner little more than three months since. He has been to Maçon on the Saone since, where the Allies now are, about six hundred miles from this, having been first plundered of his great coat and pantaloons. He was about thirty-five days getting there on foot all the way, staid there forty days, and then was about thirty-six days more returning here, also on foot, having been exchanged. He says the notion is that we have the Duke d’Angoulême here, and that very many wish it to be so. This is like my finding many persuaded that we had the Duke de Berri with our army when I was a prisoner. I suspect, however, we shall in part verify this notion now, as I just hear one of the best quarters in the town is to be cleared immediately for an unknown great man, now at Passages, and just arrived from England. At first they even talked of moving the Adjutant-general, Pakenham, to make room for him. This mystery will, however, soon be cleared up. Rain, which is never pleasant, was never so disagreeable as now. The fate of France may depend upon it.