Now for a trait of a gens-d’arme—a private in the ranks. We went to the play at Bayonne with a gens-d’arme, and our friend, the Dutch officer. On going down to the coffee-room, my companion, Mr. Jesse, meaning to be generous, but not understanding the method of treating a revolutionary gens-d’arme, told him to get anything he wished to drink as we did. Upon which he flew into a rage, said he had drank with his colonels, majors, captains, and had never been sent out to drink like a servant before. Our Dutchman was obliged to explain to him, in order to pacify him, the difference in our service between officers and privates; said it was once so in France and in Holland, but that the prejudice was removed there now, though it remained in England. He then desired him to sit down and drink with us. With difficulty he was persuaded to do so, and we all knocked our glasses together, and so it ended amicably. I did not expect this. The military retain, however, the only remnant of the equality of the Revolution.
The two midshipmen in prison with us amused us much. By mistake, they were at first put in prison with their men for two days on bread and water. Afterwards they were lodged in the same room in which I was. We were five in all at first. They slept in the same bed, and were as often alternately with their heads where the feet of the others were as on the pillow. In the open letter they sent to Sir G. Collier, about their exchange, through the French, they suggested the advisability of bringing in two gun-boats close to St. Jean de Luz, in order to prevent communication with St. Sebastian, and further, advised a little bombardment, &c. The sailors, as they were marched, proposed to the midshipmen to upset the heavy gens-d’armes by their great jack-boots; said they would never be able to right themselves again, and that they, the sailors, might get off. The officers, however, told them that it would not do; so they were quiet.
October 8th, 1813, Lezaca.—The result of yesterday’s operations was, that the French was driven from all the mountainous parts of their position above Endaye, opposite Fontarabia, and so along, opposite Irun, to above Bera. I do not know that we have lost above five hundred men in this part. The French did not fight well, and were not above twelve or fourteen thousand here. What has passed higher up I know not. It is said that the sixth division, near Maya, have lost men. I believe Lord Wellington very prudently stopped short, in this part, near Orogne, on the road to St. Jean de Luz, not knowing exactly the result near Maya and Roncesvalles.
It is thought that the French must be in greater strength there, since they are so weak here. Report says, however, that men have been sent northwards. Our sixty pieces of artillery were all carried across the Bidassoa last night, and are established on the main road. We have not lost many officers. About three hundred prisoners were brought in here, with eight officers, about ten o’clock this morning. How lucky it was that my exchange took place before this, or it would have been at least deferred, or I should have been sent back to the rear.
General Graham has just called on me. He is on his way to England to-morrow; he had called to see Lord Wellington. He was very civil, and assures me that my new mare is a good purchase; and so it ought to be for four hundred dollars. Major Stanhope sold her some time since for a hundred guineas, to take it back at the same if he returned. He did so. General Cole gave him a hundred guineas when he was ordered away again; this looks well.
Evening.—The French still cling with three companies to a rock in the midst of La Rhüne mountain, about half a mile from my resting-place, now six weeks ago. The Spaniards cannot drive them out. Little has been attempted or done to-day.
The day before yesterday, a curious scene occurred at General Pakenham’s. A French militia Captain had been taken among the rocks—a ci-devant regular officer retired, and now apparently an active, useful man, in organizing the Basque peasantry. He had some regulars with him, and peasants without uniform. Lord Wellington had succeeded in frightening him by threatening to hang him for invading Spain with peasants. He seemed a country mountain squire, and rather simple, though probably useful. He let fall much against Bonaparte, and told us many truths. He was told that I had just come from beyond Bayonne, and made me confirm it by many facts. He was surprised and puzzled, but believed I had been there as a spy, and never guessed the truth. Another officer, who knew about eight words of Basque, was passed off as a proficient in that dialect. The poor militia officer stared, but swallowed everything as easily as his dinner. His own account of the chase of him by the Portuguese, the rocks he climbed whilst they fired, given in the most animated style, was very entertaining. I was almost sorry this unlucky Basque squire was to leave us next morning for Passages, to learn a little English farming. He confessed that if he had been a single man, and had not left a wife and servants with six of the 6th Light Regiment boarding in his house, he should in these times have been rather glad than otherwise to get away to England, to avoid the present troubles. What he wished for most, however, was to return on parole, as he could then be at home quietly, with an excuse to enable him to refuse to take any part in what was doing. The arming of the country being what Lord Wellington wished to prevent, he could not, of course, favour this man.
9th October, five o’clock.—The French have given up the rock on La Rhüne in the night, and have to-day been beaten out of two or three redoubts; but there has been but little else done, and some say we shall now be quiet again until Pamplona falls. To-morrow, head-quarters move to Bera, only half a league. It is a large ruined village. A letter has been intercepted from Pamplona, stating that the 25th of this month will be the very latest they can hold out; but we have heard this already very often. It draws nearer the truth, certainly, every time. Plunder has begun, and disorder in the French villages, and Lord Wellington is exceedingly angry. He says, that if officers will not obey orders, and take care that those under them do so also, they must go home, for he will not command them here; many of our officers seem to think that they have nothing to do but to fight.
This place, Lezaca, is grown very unwholesome, like an old poultry-yard, and the deaths of the inhabitants are very numerous. So, I think, there is no reason to regret the change.