The subaltern

by G. R. Gleig

I returned to my couch of fern about two in the morning, and slept, or rather dozed, till daybreak; when, having waited the usual time under arms with the men, I set off again, with my dog and gun, to the mountains. But I was weary with last night's watching, and a friend, in something of my own mood of mind, overtaking me, we sat down to bask in the sun upon a lofty rock which overlooked the camp. There we remained till gathering clouds warned us of a storm; when, hurrying home, the information so long expected was communicated to us—namely, that we were to cross the river and attack the heights above it on the morrow.

I am no fire-eater, nor ever professed to be one; but I confess that the news produced in me very pleasurable sensations. We had been stationary in our present position so long, that all the objects round were become familiar; and variety is everything in the life of a soldier. Besides, there was the idea of invading France—an idea which, a few years previously, would have been scouted as visionary: this added much to the pleasurable excitement which the prospect of a move created. Not that I was thoughtless of what might be my own fate; on the contrary, I never yet went into action without making up my mind beforehand for the worst. But you become so familiarised with death, after you have spent a few months amid such scenes as I had lately witnessed, that the thought loses most of its terrors, and is considered only as a blank in the lottery of which you may have purchased a ticket. It may come; and if so, why, there is no help for it; but you may escape, and then there are new scenes to be witnessed, and new adventures to be encountered.

As the attack was to be made at an early hour, the troops were ordered to lie down as soon after dark as possible, in order that they might be fresh and in good spirits for the work of to-morrow. In the meanwhile, the clouds continued to collect over the whole face of the sky, and the extreme sultriness of the atmosphere indicated an approaching thunderstorm. The sun went down lowering and ominously; but it was not till the first night-relief had been set—that is, about eight or nine o'clock in the evening—that the storm burst upon us. Then, indeed, it came, and with a degree of sublimity which accompanies such a storm only amid such scenery. The lightning was very vivid; and the peals of thunder, echoed back as they were by the rocks and mountains near, sounded more like one continued rending of the elements than the intermitted discharges of an electric cloud. Happily, little or no rain fell, at least for a time; by which means I was enabled to sit at the door of my tent and watch the storm; nor have I been frequently more delighted than with its progress.

Immediately opposite to where I sat was a valley or glen, beautifully wooded, at the bottom of which flowed a little rivulet, which came from the waterfall already alluded to. This was completely laid open to me at every flash, as well as the whole side of the mountain beyond; near the summit of which a body of Spanish soldiers were posted in a lonely cottage. It was exceedingly curious to catch sight of this hut, with warlike figures moving about it, and arms piled beside it; of the bold heights around, with the stream tumbling from its rocky bed, and the thick groves and the white tents—and then to have the whole hidden from you in a moment. I sat and feasted my eyes till the rain began to descend; when the storm gradually abating, I stretched myself on the ground, and, without undressing, wrapt myself in my cloak and fell asleep.

It was, as nearly as I can now recollect, about four o'clock next morning when I was roused from my slumber by the orderly sergeant of the company. By this time the storm had completely passed away, and the stars were shining in a sky perfectly cloudless. The moon had, however, gone down; and the red glare from decaying fires, which, for want of fuel, were fast dying out, was the only light that helped us to find our proper places. The effect of this dull light, as it fell upon the soldiers mustering in solemn silence, was, however, exceedingly fine. You could not distinguish either the uniform or the faces of the men; you saw only groups collecting together, with arms in their hands; which there needed but a slight stretch of imagination, amid this wild forest scenery, to mistake for banditti, instead of regular troops. I started to my feet at the first summons; and, having buckled on my sabre, stowed away some cold meat, biscuit, and rum in a haversack, and placed it, with my cloak, across the back of my horse, I swallowed a cup or two of coffee, and felt myself ready and willing for any kind of service whatever.

In little more than a quarter of an hour the corps was under arms, each man in his place. We had already been joined by two other battalions, forming a brigade of about fifteen hundred men; and an hour before sunrise, just as the first streaks of dawn were appearing in the east, the word was given to march. Our tents were not on this occasion struck: they were left standing, with the baggage and mules, under the protection of a guard, for the purpose of deceiving the enemy's pickets, in whose view they were exposed, into the belief that nothing was going forward. And the measure was the more judicious that the state of the tide promised not to admit of our fording the river till past seven o'clock; long before which hour broad daylight would have set in. The object of our early movement was, therefore, to gain unobserved a sort of hollow, close to the left bank of the Bidassoa, from which, as soon as the stream should be passable, we might emerge.

As we moved in profound silence, we reached our place of ambuscade without creating the smallest alarm. There we laid ourselves down upon the ground, for the double purpose of more effectually avoiding a display, and of taking as much rest as possible. Whilst lying here, we listened, with eager curiosity, to the distant tread of feet, which marked the coming up of other divisions, and to the lumbering sound of artillery, as it rolled along the highroad. The latter increased upon us every moment, till at length three ponderous eighteen-pounders reached the hollow, and began to ascend the rising ground immediately in front of us. These were placed in battery, so as to command the ford, across which a stone bridge, now in ruins, was thrown; and by which we knew, from the position which we occupied, that we were destined to proceed. From what infatuation it arose that all these preparations excited no suspicion among the enemy, whose sentinels were scarce half musket-shot distant, I know not; but the event proved that they expected this morning anything rather than an attack.

Before I proceed to describe the circumstances of the battle, I must endeavour to convey to the minds of my non-military readers something like a clear notion of the nature of the position occupied by the right of the French army. I have already said that its extreme flank rested upon the sea. Its more central brigades occupied a chain of heights, not, indeed, deserving of the name of mountains, but still sufficiently steep to check the progress of an advancing force, and full of natural inequalities, well adapted to cover the defenders from the fire of the assailants. Along the face of these heights is built the straggling village of Handaye; and immediately in front of them runs the frith or mouth of the Bidassoa, fordable only at two points, one opposite Fontarabia, and the other in the direction of the main road. Close to the French bank of the river is a grove or strip of willows, with several vineyards and other enclosures, admirably calculated for skirmishers; while the ford beside the ruined bridge—the only one by which artillery could pass—was completely commanded by a fortified house, or tête-de-pont, filled with infantry. The main road, on the French side of the river, winds among overhanging precipices, not, indeed, so rugged as those in the pass of Irun, but sufficiently bold to place troops which might occupy them in comparative security, and to render a hundred resolute men more than a match for a thousand who might attack them. Yet these were the most assailable points in the whole position, all beyond the road being little else than perpendicular cliffs, shaggy with pine and ash trees.

Such was the nature of the ground which we were commanded to carry. As day dawned, I could distinctly see that the old town of Fontarabia was filled with British soldiers. The fifth division, which had borne the brunt of the late siege, and which, since the issue of their labours, had been permitted to rest somewhat in the rear, had been moved up on the preceding evening; and reaching Fontarabia a little before midnight, had spent some hours in the streets. Immediately in rear of ourselves, and in the streets of Irun, about eight thousand of the Guards and of the German Legion were reposing. A brigade of cavalry just showed its leading files at a turning in the main road, and a couple of nine-pounders stood close beside them. It was altogether a beautiful and an animating sight, not fewer than fifteen or twenty thousand British and Portuguese troops being distinguishable at a glance.

Away to our right, and on the tops of San Marcial, the Spanish divisions took their stations; nor could I avoid drawing something like an invidious comparison between them and their gallant allies. Half clothed, and badly fed, though sufficiently armed, their appearance certainly promised no more than their actions for the most part verified. Not that the Spanish peasantry are deficient in personal courage (and their soldiers were, generally speaking, merely peasants with muskets in their hands), but their corps were so wretchedly officered, and their commissariat so miserably supplied, that the chief matter of surprise is, how they came to fight at all. Even at this period of the war, when their country might be said to be completely freed from the invader, the subsistence of the Spanish army depended mainly on the heads of Indian corn, which the men gathered for themselves in the fields, and cooked by roasting them over their fires.