Mergan is a very dirty old town, but this town, Castrogores, though larger, and the quarters better, is in that respect much worse; the streets so offensive, that you must hold your nose in passing through them, and everything about the place filthy. We passed the German hussars in quarters half a league off on our way here, and crossed the line of march of the light and fourth divisions, meeting General Hill’s army on our arrival here.
The scene is now very animated. This place is above a mile long, round the bottom of an insulated hill, with a castle at the top of it, which looks over a rich country for some way to a ridge of hills which bound the whole, about a league off; trees, however (except just round a few quintas or villas, and about the several ruins of the old monasteries), are very scarce; corn most luxuriant, but not much forwarder than with us in England. Weather, hitherto, scarcely at all too hot, and that only for a few hours; at times very cold. Lord Wellington has gone through again on in front.
Castrogores, June 12th.—As we halt here to-day, instead of marching to Eglesia, as was intended, I determined to finish this, and seal up to-day for Lisbon. Colonel A——, of the German hussars, told me that he saw about two or three thousand French cavalry the day before yesterday, but they filed off as we came in sight. Colonel Waters went on yesterday to within a league of Burgos. He only saw about fifteen thousand French in a valley near there, near Quinta della Duennas. They were about to march, and the reports are that they are off again, and the whole of the second division of General Hill’s army have advanced hence this morning. They began at daylight, and about eight o’clock the Spaniards began to file by, just below my house. This was General Murillo’s corps: I went down to look at them. There were about ten regiments, I think, but most of them small ones. The men looked very well, though a great many were quite boys. They were singing, joking, and in good spirits: the artillery with them in good order, the draft mules quite fat. The clothing and equipments of some very good, though unequal to ours, or to the Portuguese; others moderate only. They wore a sort of flannel jacket and trousers not at all alike, and some were ragged, here and there a man barefoot,—very few; all with good caps, in the French style, and the officers more respectable than usual, and generally mounted; some very fierce-looking pioneers, fine grenadiers, and all with good English town muskets in good order, brighter than our own, being, most probably, nearly new: in short, the whole was respectable. If they will but fight as well as they look, it will do. Doyle’s regiment was one of the best; but the very best, I think, was the Regimento del Unione.
General Alava, the Spanish great man at head-quarters, is in high spirits, thinks all going on well, and is beginning to ask one or two to dine with him at his mansion near Vittoria, where his estates lie. He only begs that he may have a guard to preserve his green forage from our soldiers. The Spaniards are astonished at our baggage. The French carry very little, as they make the people at the quarters furnish everything they want, which is not so much as we require. We carry everything with us. An English captain, therefore, has (plunder excepted) almost as much baggage as a French colonel. Barley is already scarce, and not to be bought, though we pay in guineas. Bread is also scarce, as well as beef. I hope soon to hear through St. Andero, but the French have Castro and Santona. We still have reports that the works at Burgos are being destroyed; it may be so, if the French resolve to go to the Ebro, for the garrison will otherwise be sacrificed. We have only six eighteen-pounders, about the same as last year; the twenty-fours are at Corunna. This will not do for the siege well, and I hope that will not be necessary. For the last thirty miles and more the style of the houses has changed. They are generally now mud or cob walls, like those in Devonshire, whitewashed, but not in the best repair, or else they are unburnt brick, or dried mud bricks with mud plaster.
Miserable Head-Quarters at Massa, June 14th, 1813.—The regular English post-day was yesterday, but I had not time to write then, and as it is ten to one but that this will be in time for the same packet, though you will have, I hope, a long letter by the same mail, yet, wishing to give you the latest news from hence, and to let you know the events which have occurred, I write again.
At four o’clock on the 12th, as I told you, Lord Wellington had not returned from the front when my last letter was sent off. He came back at seven o’clock; he and his horse and his comrades well tired. The enemy were found about fifteen thousand strong, two leagues south-west nearly of Burgos, with cavalry and artillery. We had up the hussars (heavy), and General Fane’s brigades of cavalry. Manœuvring went on a considerable time with skill. Our infantry could not get up in force in time, or much would have been done. We had a gun, however, close to a French column, and killed a few. We also took an officer and about ninety men prisoners, some desperately wounded, and one gun. A charge of cavalry was ordered, but the French moved off.
There seems to be considerable confusion at times in the intermixture of the French and English. The light divisions were at hand; the second near with the Spaniards, but not up. The Prince of Orange galloped about well, with orders; he knocked up his horse, and was in some danger. Lord March met a French dragoon, took him till he came close for an English soldier, turned short round, was struck at by the Frenchman, and his horse slightly hit below the ear: in short, something material was very nearly happening.
The next day (the 13th) we had orders to march to Villa Diego, where head-quarters were yesterday; a dirty place, but quarters tolerable. The country between is rich and good, and covered with villages. We passed, among others, Ormillos, Villa Sandine at a distance, and Sasamon, in perfect ruin; the whole place, church and all, both of considerable extent and size, having been burnt by Romana and his army for some real or supposed treason. The destruction was certainly well performed; the punishment severe, and very impartially inflicted. The next place we came to, which had been a very neat village, was nearly in the same state, from the same cause. Villa Diego was nearly six or seven leagues from Burgos. Lord Wellington, &c., went round that way, to see how matters went on. They could not find any French, and at last ascertained that the works, castle, &c., of Burgos, had been all blown up and destroyed by five o’clock yesterday morning. This news caused no little joy to every one, and most particularly to those who expected to have to knock their heads against the place. Many good lives have thus been saved. This news met us about four o’clock yesterday, and in consequence to-day we had a long march to this place, Massa, on our way to the Ebro.
We shall probably nearly all get across about the same time; I think French and all. Some of the Spanish army of Gallicia pass to-day up towards Reynosa. The first division do the same to-day or to-morrow. We met one cavalry brigade on their road to cross at St. Martine to-day. General Murray told me that we should probably cross to-morrow; but I find we are here five leagues from a bridge or ford. The first two leagues here to-day were through a productive country like Wiltshire; round smooth chalk hills, well-watered meadows, and rich pasture valleys, with abundance of grass: draining and better farming, with cleanliness, were all requisite. We then entered a rough, wild country, with rocks, &c. We nearly all lost our way, including General Murray, the Quarter-Master-general, with whom I was riding, Lord Wellington himself, and nearly all the baggage! We were near a place called Brulla, ought to have passed Cuirculo, near Urbel de Castro, whereas we got through a rugged pass in the rock, came down to a picturesque village, called La Piedra (so called, probably, from the rocks around it), and there we fell in with the fifth division. At last, after passing another little space called Fresnoy, and leaving Urbel de Castro, in a valley on our right, with a curious small castle on a pointed hill close to it (from whence the name), we arrived at this wretched place. The houses in this place would not in any way hold half of us; so the Spaniards have been sent back to Fresnoy, the artillery, commissaries, paymasters, and doctors to Vilalda, or some such place, a league off.
I was forgotten, but have, from there being one spare quarter, got a wretched dirty hole here: it is the worst of dirty cottages. My baggage is all in the entrance. I have no place but a dirty passage to put up my bed in; I have a table and chair, but am surrounded by baskets, hampers, tubs, boxes, sheepskins, dirt, &c. Cobwebs and dirt are dropping upon me continually. Most have encamped. Lord Wellington and Marshal Beresford are walking up and down the street, and the Military Secretary is writing under a wall, upon his knees, whilst his servants are pitching his tent. In a little field where General Alava is about to encamp, there were just now the Military Secretary, Colonel Scovell, the Commander of the Police Corps, Fitzclarence, General Alava, the Spanish Aide-de-camp, Colonel Waters, the Prince of Orange, and your humble servant, all lying upon the ground together, round a cold ham and bread, some brandy, and a bottle of champagne. And no bad fare either you will say. The Prince and Lord Fitzroy, like two boys, were playing together all the time.