Sunday, the 6th.—Post-day for ordinary men—to-morrow for Lord Wellington; so I proceed. For the first time these fourteen months I have to-day been to a military church; I found that the service was in-doors, and ventured, but was much reproached by my doctor. We were in the newly-repaired large public town room, which has just been made water and wind tight, as well as all the rooms round about it, for an hospital, and will soon, it is to be feared, be filled with wounded. So we go on clearing away one set of hobblers, and destroying houses on both sides, then repairing and cleaning for the new set we are about to make; and then clearing off again, and so on! This town is just now clear of all the old wounded; and the large room was washed, Dr. M’Gregor told me (though I should not have discovered it), for those soon expected. I believe he wished not a little that we had gone somewhere else to pray, and not made a dirt in his department. The service was short, plainly read, but tolerably well; the sermon homely and familiar, but good for the troops, I think, and very fair and useful to any one. Lord Wellington was there, with his attendants, a few officers, and our new staff corps.
On my return home, lo, and behold! I found —— very alert, waiting for breakfast, as he had orders to march on to the front in half an hour, and in less than that time, before breakfast was over, I saw Lord Wellington and his suite all off on horseback to the front, to peep again. It is not likely, however, anything can be done until to-morrow at soonest, and it will be stiff work if the French do their duty as they ought.
I now suspect that the packet will be kept until the result of what is about to be done is known, unless there is another ship ready. My letter must, however, go to-day; but I will try and send a line off, if possible, by the same conveyance as the despatches. As I must not go and peep, for fear of being picked up again and carried off further next time, my communications will be dull and uninteresting now. A move was becoming very necessary, for sickness had just commenced, and in the mountains on the right horses were dying fast. If we can but beat them well, we have a chance of some quiet quarter. Merely beating them back, in my opinion, will not do for us; and if the French defend their new works with as much steadiness as they have shown activity in making them, you will have a long Gazette. We all think that their morale is much shaken, and that the old soldiers will not stand now; if so, the young ones will not hold out long, though it was observed that they fought best on late occasions.
——, the last thing before he left, was at me again, about procuring his brother to be made a Captain in the Navy by Lord Wellington’s interest, though it might be thought I had sufficiently put him aside the first time, as I have no humbug in these matters. It now became necessary to refuse him in direct terms, assuring him that Lord Wellington had continually said to me, “I never interfere with the Navy, when I can help it, in any way; I let them have all their rights, that I may keep all mine; and as I do not wish them to meddle with me, I never meddle with them.” I should never have thought of asking Lord Wellington for anything now except upon public grounds, such as repaying the Bayonne banker, &c., as it is not my doctrine that because a man has done you one favour you are, therefore, to ask him to do you another.
Twelve o’clock.—Six more guns are now rumbling by through this place to go up the pass. B——’s have been off some time; six more will, I hear, be soon up, and these eighteen are all to be collected to play upon the French new work, where they had yesterday got about twelve together. It is feared that we must begin from the ground at too great a distance, thirteen hundred yards, but I hope closer quarters will be come to soon, for in my opinion the French succeed best at cannonading and sharp-shooting, and we at the hand-to-hand work.
Two o’clock.—The mail is said to go as usual, so I must close directly, but I have no doubt the packet will be kept, as every one says publicly that the attack is to take place to-morrow morning. General Cole has just told me to go up to the top of La Rhüne, where I must be safe, and must see everything. I shall not go, however, unless I find all the quiet steady ones do the same, for though you may see all, and if knowing, may be down again in time, yet mistakes may be made by the unknowing, and I shall remain quietly here.
Head-Quarters, Vera, November 9th, 1813.—I have this moment received your packet of the 26th ult., with all the kind enclosures from aunts, cousins, &c. The attack never took place on Monday the 8th, as I told you in my last; the roads, from the wet, being so bad that I believe the army could not be collected in time. To-morrow, however, is now said to be the day, as the two last days have continued fine and mild, the wind south, and the thermometer up at 52° again. It now looks like rain, but is fine, and holds up as yet, with a wind south and south-west; whilst all the rain came with a cold north-west wind. It will not do, therefore, to make use of English weather-wisdom here.
Your English mail is thought nothing of. A Gazette of the 25th had got here first, and forestalled it; and we have to-day much greater news from the French side, which is believed by every one here, and by the French army as we are told; namely, that Bonaparte is beaten back to the Rhine, with the loss of three divisions cut off by blowing up a bridge too soon, &c.; one General taken, and one drowned, &c. This puts our party in spirits for to-morrow, and will, I hope, damp the French if believed by them, as the deserters report it to be.
The Portuguese are most anxious to enter France, and are in high spirits; the grave ones, however, expect a great number of broken heads, unless the French turn tail shamefully. You ask me about Baron de Trenqueléon, and whether I thought of him whilst I was a prisoner. I certainly did at Mont de Marsan, and found that I was within thirty miles of him; and an emigrant there advised me to apply to go over to see him, but I thought it might do us both harm, and, therefore, never said a word upon the subject to any one. Major D—— had serious thoughts of going as my servant with the baggage to look about; but it would have been a dangerous experiment.
The 10th November.—I dined with Lord Wellington last night, and staid there till near ten. He was all gaiety and spirits; and only said on leaving the room, “Remember! at four in the morning.” Monsieur Pomade, the aide-de-camp to the governor of Pamplona, was there, and I sat next to him and had some conversation with him. He had been told that operations were going on, and that that was the reason he could not be sent in yet to the French. To show what he expected to be the result, he told me (when I begged him to tell the banker at Bayonne that all his letters had been sent safely) that except from necessity and orders he should avoid Bayonne, as he was not ready yet to be shut up again in another town.