Head-Quarters, St. Jean de Luz, Thursday, February 10th, 1814.—Thus far the week has passed without my having commenced my usual Journal to you; for I have had a return of business, and also several gentlemen to swear, and certificates and affidavits to make out, to enable friends to take out administration in England to deceased officers’ estates. We have also again had two fine days, and I have been able to get a ride or two in consequence. On Sunday, at head-quarters, I met the Royal Tiger at dinner—the Duke d’Angoulême and Monsieur Damas.
Before dinner I got into conversation with the Duke, without knowing who he was, for they were both dressed alike in a fancy uniform, very like our navy Captain’s undress, a plain blue coat, with two gold epaulettes. He seemed much pleased with his prospects, and very sanguine as to the result. The day was fine; he was sure the weather would last a month. I said that the natives told me we should have rain, and no settled weather until March was half over. He was sure I had been misinformed; the fact was, however, that it rained half that very night and the whole of the next day. Every day he expected to proceed to France, and saw all difficulties vanish. “Les pauvres conscripts de Bayonne fondaient comme la neige; ils étoient presque tous à l’hôpital,” and so on.
That we shall make a dash soon, unless peace prevents it, I fully believe from all I see and hear, and an embargo which has been laid on all small vessels in the river here confirms this. We have also to-day an order for twelve days’ hay at Passages, for which we are to send to the ships ourselves, as Government have just now sent us out a good lot of English hay, and if we march it must be all left behind, for we have no means of carrying it with us. At least the animals will thus all start with a belly full, which is something, and to many a novelty.
I do not think much of the little Duke; his figure and manners are by no means imposing, and his talents appear not very great. He seems affable and good-tempered, and though not seemingly a being to make a kingdom for himself, he may do very well to govern one when well established. Lord Wellington was in his manner droll towards them. As they went out, we drew up on each side, and Lord Wellington put them first; they bowed and scraped right and left so oddly, and so actively, that he followed with a face much nearer a grin than a smile.
They were at church on Sunday, but I cannot learn with any effect; hitherto we cannot judge, for this small corner dare not speak out their minds, if they were in his favour. We hear of a strong disposition at Bordeaux and in Brittany. I have as yet seen only apathy and indifference, but I still expect a burst if the war should last.
I must now go to Lord Wellington about a poor old Doctor, who has been charged with having a soldier servant. I expect a jobation for what I shall state in his favour, for this is a very heinous offence in the eyes of Lord Wellington.
Same day, later.—Lord Wellington, as I supposed, insisted on the Doctor’s being tried, but was good-humoured, though just going out with the hounds, when in general he does not like interruption. This particular Doctor had a right to a servant of his own regiment, but he had one of another. I suggested that he had never joined his own regiment since he was appointed, and could not, therefore, have one of that corps. “Then he should have gone without,” was the answer, and as for the Doctor’s good character, that went for nothing. Lord Wellington never attends to individual hardships, but to the general good, and as many abuses go on at depôts in the rear, every time he discovers an instance he is inexorable in trying to punish, especially when he finds it out himself, as he did this in another trial of the same poor Doctor, by some of the evidence. The Doctor, foolish man, desired it might be put on the minutes that he would ask such a witness no question, as he had been his servant at the time, and was so still.
I have just heard an anecdote which shows strongly the Spanish character, and also why Lord Wellington likes Colonel Dickson as his chief artillery officer. On the 9th of November last the order was given for the troops to march to the attack at four the next morning. This was when we were at Vera. Every one had known for weeks that this was to take place the earliest moment it was possible; and that the fall of Pamplona and better weather were the only reasons of the army being in such a position as we then were, perched up on the sides of all the mountains so late in the year, with the prospect of snow daily. At nine that night General Frere, the Spanish General, who is considered to be one of their best, sent word that the Spanish army under his command was without any ammunition, and could not get any up in time. At ten o’clock Dickson was sent for, just as he was going to bed. Instead of saying nothing could be done, or making any difficulties, he proposed giving the Spaniards immediately the reserve ammunition of the nearest English division, and said that he would send out orders instantly, and undertake to get the English reserve replaced in time, and this was done.
Poor E—— got a very loud discourse all the way home from church last Sunday. The oxen of the pontoon train were all dying, and in cross roads were useless, for they could not move singly except with difficulty, much less draw a pontoon of two tons weight. It had been reported in consequence that three troops of artillery must be dismounted to draw the pontoon. Lord Wellington was vexed excessively. “Where are the pontoon horses?” “None were ever sent out from England; never had anything but oxen, and five hundred have died since we left Frenada.” This answer still did not satisfy him. He must, notwithstanding, have known it from the returns which he sees, but still he seemed, though he could not tell why, to think poor E—— blameable. The latter said that he had no orders to send to England for horses, and no one seemed to think they would be necessary, and he had never had them.
Friday, 11th.—I went last night to our third ball, in hopes of seeing the Duke d’Angoulême there, and to observe how he was received. He did not attend. All our other great men were there—Lord Wellington and all the French, as yet very few in numbers. The owner of General Cole’s quarters near Ustaritz, I believe named Larrique, was there. He had come over to pay his respects to the Bourbons. He was always royally disposed, and had been once imprisoned for this inclination. I am told several others have been to the Duke to pay their respects merely, but this is all they dared do as yet. They assure him the landholders and peasantry further on only wait our advance, and the absence of the French army, to rise and declare for the Bourbons. If they do not take this line soon, and that decidedly, peace may make it too late, and frustrate all these petty plans of counter-revolution in the bud. The Duke seems quite ignorant of the people here, and of the country, and those Basques I have talked to do not seem to know much more of him. The few squires left may, however, give the tone to the rest.