CHAPTER VIII.
The 8th and 9th of November passed over without any event occurring worthy of recital. On the former of these days, indeed, we had the satisfaction to see a French gun-brig destroyed by one of our light cruisers, a small schooner, off the harbour of St Jean de Luz. She had lain there, as it appeared, for some time, and, apprehensive of falling into our hands, had ventured on that day to put to sea; but, being observed by a brig, and the schooner above alluded to, she was immediately followed, and after an action of nearly an hour's continuance, she blew up. Whether her crew had abandoned her previous to the explosion I had no means of ascertaining.
Meanwhile, among ourselves, and throughout the different divisions contiguous to us, a silence like that of a calm before a storm prevailed. Each man looked as if he knew that an attack was impending, though few conjectures were hazarded touching the precise moment of its occurrence. On the evening of the 9th, however, all doubt was at length removed. We were assembled at parade, or rather the parade was dismissed, but, the band continuing to play, the officers were waiting in groups about the colonel's tent, when an aide-de-camp riding up informed us that the army was to advance upon the morrow. The battalion to which I belonged was appointed to carry the village of Urogne—a place containing perhaps a hundred houses and a church; and we were to take post for the purpose an hour before daybreak on the highroad, close to the advanced sentinels. Of the disposition of other corps we knew nothing.
As soon as the aide-de-camp departed, we began, as people so circumstanced generally do, to discuss the propriety of our general's arrangements. On the present occasion we were more than usually convinced of the sagacity and profound skill of the noble lord. Our corps had been selected, in preference to many others, for a service, perilous, it is true, but therefore honourable. This showed that he knew at least on whom he could depend; and we, of course, were determined to prove that his confidence had not been misplaced.
Having passed an hour or two in this manner, we departed each to his own tent, in order to make the necessary preparations for the morrow. These were soon completed. Our baggage was packed; our horses and mules, which, for the sake of shelter, had been kept during the last ten days at certain houses in the rear, were called in; and provisions enough for one day's consumption put into a haversack. With this and our cloaks we directed a Portuguese lad, a servant of Grey, to follow the battalion upon a little pony, which we kept chiefly for such uses; and finally, having renewed our directions, the one to the other, respecting the conduct of the survivor in case either of us should fall, we lay down.
It was quite dark when I arose. Our fires had all burned out; there was no moon in the heavens, and the stars were in a great measure obscured by clouds; but we took our places instinctively, and in profound silence. On these occasions I have been always struck with the great coolness of the women. You seldom hear an expression of alarm escape them; indeed they become, probably from habit, and from the example of others, to the full as indifferent to danger as their husbands. I fear, too, that the sort of life which they lead, after they have for any length of time followed an army in the field, sadly unsexes them (if I may be permitted to coin such a word for their benefit); at least I recollect but one instance in which any symptoms of real sorrow were shown even by those whom the fate of a battle had rendered widows. Sixty women only being permitted to accompany a battalion, they are, of course, perfectly sure of getting as many husbands as they may choose; and hence few widows of soldiers continue in a state of widowhood for any unreasonable length of time; so far, indeed, they are a highly-favoured class of female society.
The column being formed, and the tents and baggage so disposed as that, in case of a reverse, they might be carried to the rear without confusion or delay, the word was given to move on. As our route lay over ground extremely uneven, we moved for a while slowly and with caution, till, having gained the highroad, we were enabled to quicken our pace. We proceeded thus, perhaps, about a mile, when the watch-fire of a German picket was seen. Then the order to halt being passed quietly from rank to rank, we ordered arms, and sat down upon the green banks by the roadside. Here we were directed to remain till there should be light enough to make surrounding objects clear, and a gun somewhere to the left of us should give the signal of attack.
Men are very differently affected at different times, even though the situations in which they may be cast bear a strong affinity to one another. On the present occasion, for example, I perfectly recollect that hardly any feeling of seriousness pervaded my own mind, nor, if I might judge from appearances, the minds of those around me. Much conversation, on the contrary, passed among us in whispers, but it was all of as light a character as if the business in which we were about to engage were mere amusement, and not that kind of play in which men stake their lives. Anxiety and restlessness, indeed, universally prevailed. We looked to the east, and watched the gradual approach of dawn; but it was with that degree of interest which sportsmen feel on the morning of the twelfth of August—or rather, perhaps, like that of a child in a box at Covent Garden, when it expects every moment to see the stage curtain lifted. We were exceedingly anxious to begin the fray, but we were quite confident of success.
In the meanwhile, such dispositions were made as the circumstances of the case appeared to require. Three companies, consisting of about a hundred and fifty men, were detached, under the command of a field-officer, a little to the right and left of the road, for the purpose of surprising, if possible, two of the enemy's pickets. The remaining seven, forming into column as day broke, extended their front so as to cover the whole breadth of the road, and made ready to rush at once, in what is called "double quick," upon the village. That it was strongly barricaded and filled with French infantry we were aware; but, by making our first attack a rapid one, we calculated on reaching the barricade before the enemy should have time to do us much damage by their fire.
We stood, perhaps, half an hour after these dispositions were effected before the signal was given, the dawn gradually brightening over the whole face of the sky. Now we could observe that we had diverged in some degree from the main road, and occupied with our little column a lane hemmed in on both sides by high hedges; presently we were able to remark that the lane again united itself with the road about a hundred yards in front of us; then the church and houses of the village began to show through the darkness like rocks or mounds; by-and-by the stubble-fields immediately around could be distinguished from green meadows; then the hedgerows which separated one field from another became visible. And now the signal-gun was fired. It was immediately answered by a couple of nine-pounders, which were stationed in a field adjoining to the lane where we stood; and the battle began.