18th February, later.—I have just been with Elphinstone, and seen all his drawings and plans for the grand bridge. They seem very good, and the whole will be ready by Sunday morning, provided the naval gentleman can carry his vessels in; but he thinks that will not do on account of the tides before Wednesday. Six or seven small boats are to be carried from here on carriages; these are to be launched, and are to tow across the first party on rafts, which are made by some platforms placed on the pontoons. This first party I would rather not accompany. To show you how little Lord Wellington listens to objections, and how he rather likes to cut up the routine work, I may mention that Elphinstone told him the quantity of plank necessary would take time, and make a delay. “No,” says he, “there are all your platforms of your batteries which have been sent out in case of a siege. Cut them all up.” “Then when we proceed with the siege what is to be done?” quoth Elphinstone. “Oh, work your guns in the sand until you can make new ones out of the pine-wood near Bayonne.” So all the English battering platforms have been cut up accordingly.
At Elphinstone’s I met the Admiral, who came round to-day to assist, and some small vessels have arrived with him. We have now Sacoa choked full, and quite a flotilla in the open bay, with a wind right on shore into the bay. I only hope it will not take to blowing hard in this direction whilst our operations are going on. The battering train and siege apparatus have also arrived at Passages from St. Andero. This has been done quite snug; even Elphinstone did not know of their coming until here they were.
Letters have come in from the right; all has gone on well there. The French are driven quite across the Gave de Mauleon or Soiron, as it is called in my map, a little river which is the left branch of the Gave d’Oleron, and runs into the Gave d’Oleron below Oleron town. The Adjutant-general writes, that the French have given up all that at present was wanted in that direction. Adieu!
Saturday the 19th.—To-day we have a French bulletin sent in to us of a victory over the forces of the Allies, the Russian army destroyed, and the French in pursuit—baggage, cannon, all taken. This is awkward when we expected daily to hear of the Allies in Paris, and it will have a bad effect on the cause in France, even if it is only a slight check to the allied armies. The French here have their proclamations printed, and fleurs-de-lis are being made. Lord Wellington says that they must wait until he is more advanced before they begin to circulate them. He is expected back to-day. The weather has been very cold again, and sleet or snow has just begun to fall. I have also to-day to acknowledge a letter from you of the 8th, and papers from the 2nd to the 8th inclusive.
I am just interrupted by a noise at the Provost guard opposite, and the arrival of about a hundred and eighty French prisoners escorted by a party of the 57th regiment, who might with great advantage change clothes with the French. The latter are in general very well clothed, and very fine young men, a few older soldiers amongst them in particular. The young conscripts look rather pale and sickly. Our 57th men are absolutely in rags and tatters, here and there five or six inches of bare thigh or arm are visible through the patches; some have had only linen pantaloons all winter through. They all get their new clothing to-morrow at Sacoa; the whole regiment comes down here for that purpose, and then nearly the whole will have had their clothing this year, all but one or two regiments.
Later, 4 o’clock.—Lord Wellington is just returned from the right, and so eager is he when anything is in hand, that I saw him going round by the Admiral’s and Colonel Elphinstone’s before he went home on horseback, after a tolerably long ride too. The Admiral he carried off with him.
20th February, Post-day.—The first thing I saw this morning in my walk on the wall was Lord Wellington looking at the sea at half-past seven. The wind was strong, right into the bay, and not a ship could stir. He soon saw the Admiral come out also to look, and carried him off home. I saw Lord Wellington about some Courts-martial just now, and expected to be rather snubbed; but he was in high good humour, and I was, of course, as short as possible. The moment is, however, ticklish. Had the gale this morning increased, none of the ships in the bay, in my opinion, could have stood it. It was right into the bay against them, and they were anchored within two hundred, three hundred, or four hundred yards of the shore. The slip of an anchor or breaking of a cable would have been destruction, and we have now a wreck on each side of the bay, which is ominous and terrific to strangers and new-comers.
Later.—Lord Wellington is already beginning to provide against the failure of his bridge plan from winds and tides, and I understand will not wait above a day or two on this account. Arrangements are in consequence being formed to make the main movement still by the right altogether, and to come round on Bayonne in case the bridge scheme will not very speedily answer.
CHAPTER XXII.
Movements of the Army—-Narrow Escape of Wellington—Anecdote of Wellington at Rodrigo—Novel Scaling Ladders—Sir Alexander Dickson—Wellington’s Vanity—Operations resumed—Spanish Officers—The Passage of the Adour—The Road to Bayonne—Death of Captain Pitts.