The subaltern

by G. R. Gleig

When we reached the post or common, of which so much notice has elsewhere been taken, we found, indeed, that the whole of the left column was moving, but that the old battle-ground about the chateau, and in the woods and enclosures near it, was left entirely to the protection of the ordinary pickets. Of the enemy's forces, not a single battalion showed itself here; and our own were all filing towards the right—a route into which we also quickly struck, as if following the natural current of the stream of war. In this journey we passed over a good deal of ground which was already familiar to us, skirting the brow of the ravine which had separated the hostile armies during the pauses in their late contest, till, having reached the meadow where our camp had formerly been pitched, we were turned into a new direction, and led upwards till we gained the top of the hill on which the church of Arcanques stands, and round the base of which the village of Arcanques is scattered. In the maintenance of this post we relieved a section of the light division, which immediately took a rightward course—thus indicating that the strength of the army would be mustered at one extremity, and other points of the line left to the protection of a few scattered brigades.

It was evening before we reached our ground, and as yet no provisions were issued out to us. Of course, our appetites were excellent; indeed, the appetites of men who have nothing to eat are seldom sickly; and this we amply demonstrated as soon as an opportunity of proving the fact was offered. Little time, however, was given for the enjoyment of social intercourse or bodily rest; for we had hardly swallowed a hasty meal when the better half of the corps was sent forward to occupy a few cottages in front of the village; and the remainder of the night was spent in that state of excitement and anxiety which necessarily waits upon such as form the outposts or advanced-guard of an army.

My own station this night was not exactly at one of the most forward posts, but in a ruinous building at the outskirts of the village, where I was placed with a body of men to support the pickets. The thing into which we were ushered had, no doubt, once upon a time, been a habitable mansion: at present it consisted of little else than the shell, and a very wretched shell, of a farmhouse. Not only were the doors and windows gone, but the ceilings and partitions which used to divide one apartment from another were all broken down; the roof was in a great measure stripped off, and the fragments which remained of it were perforated in all directions. The night was piercingly cold. The frost had of late set in with renewed severity; and a sharp northerly wind blowing, swept with a melancholy sound through our dilapidated mansion. But we were on little ceremony here. Large fires were lighted in different places upon the earthen floor, round which we crept; and an allowance of grog being brought up, and pipes and cigars lighted, we were soon as merry and light-hearted as men could desire to be. It is true that at intervals—every half-hour, for example—a party of six or eight of us sallied forth, to patrol from picket to picket, and to see that all was right between; but we returned from such excursions with increased predilection for our fire-side; and the events of the ramble, be they what they might, furnished food for conversation till another was deemed necessary.

So passed the night of the 3d; and on the morning of the 4th I expected, as an ordinary matter, to be relieved, and to be withdrawn to the rear; but it was not so. Men, it appeared, were scarce at this part of the line; and hence those who formed it were called upon to perform double duty. Instead of being removed to some place where a sound night's rest might be enjoyed, I and my party found ourselves, on the morning of the 4th, ordered to advance, and to occupy the foremost chain—from which we had the satisfaction of beholding the enemy, in very considerable strength, at the distance of little more than a quarter of a mile from our sentries. This sight, however, only gave a spur to our exertions, and hindered us from repining at what we might have been otherwise tempted to consider as an undue exercise of our powers of watchfulness.

The particular picket of which I was put in command happened to be detached from all others, and to be nearly half a mile in front of the rest. It occupied a sort of sugar-loaf hill, separated from our own regular chain of posts by a deep and rugged glen, and kept apart from the French lines only by an imaginary boundary of hedges and paling. So exposed, indeed, was the spot, that I received orders to abandon it as soon as darkness set in, and to retire across the hollow to the high grounds opposite. The reader will easily believe that, in such a situation, little leisure was given for relaxation either of body or mind. During the entire day, my occupation consisted in prying closely, with the aid of a telescope, into the enemy's lines, in considering how I could best maintain myself in case of an attack, and retreat most securely in case I should be overpowered.

The view from my picket-house was, however, extremely animating. Beneath me, at the distance of only two fields, lay the French outposts; about a quarter of a mile, or half a mile, in rear of which were encamped several large bodies both of infantry and cavalry. Of these, it was evident that vast numbers were recruits. They were at drill, marching and countermarching, and performing various evolutions during the greater part of the day—a circumstance which at first excited some uneasiness on my part, inasmuch as I expected every moment that my post would be disturbed; but as soon as I saw a target erected, and the troops practising with ball, I became easy. "There will be no attack to-day," thought I, "otherwise so much ammunition would not be wasted."

I had scarcely said so when I observed a mounted officer advancing from the enemy's camp towards the base of the hill which my party held. He was followed by a cloud of people in apparent confusion, but not more confused than French skirmishers generally appear to be, who lay down behind the hedges in the immediate front of my sentinels, as if waiting for an order to fire and rush on. I had just ordered my people under arms, and was proceeding towards the sentries for the purpose of giving a few necessary directions, when the French officer halted, and a trumpeter who accompanied him sounded a parley. I descended the hill immediately, and causing my trumpeter to answer the signal, the Frenchman advanced. He was the bearer of letters from such British officers and soldiers as had been taken in the late actions; and he likewise handed over to me several sums of money and changes of clothing for some of his countrymen who had fallen into our hands.

This being done, we naturally entered into conversation touching the state of Europe and the events of the war. My new acquaintance utterly denied the truth of Napoleon's reverses, and seemed to doubt the idea of an invasion of France by the armies of the north. He assured me that the whole country was in arms; that every peasant had become a soldier; that bands of partisans were forming on all sides of us; and that it was vain to hope that we should ever pass the Adour, or proceed farther within the sacred territory. He spoke of the desertion of the German corps with a degree of bitter contempt, which proved—the reverse of what he was desirous of proving—that the event had shaken the confidence of Soult in his auxiliaries; and, above all, he affected to regard the whole of the recent operations as mere affairs, or trifling contests of detachments, in no way capable of influencing the final issues of the war. Yet he was not displeased when I laughed at his style of oratory; and, after gasconading a good deal, both the one and the other, we shook hands, and parted the best friends imaginable.

I had hardly quitted him, at least I had not reached my station on the top of the hill, when I heard myself called by one of the sentinels, and turned round. I saw the individual with whom I had been conversing sitting in the midst of a little group of French officers, and watching the progress of an old woman who was coming towards our lines. She held a large bottle in her hand, which she lifted up to attract my notice, and continued to move forward, gabbling loudly all the while. Obeying her signal, I returned and met her a few yards in front of the sentries, when she delivered to me about a couple of quarts of brandy, as a present from the French officers, who had desired her to say, that if I could spare them a little tea in exchange, they would feel obliged. It so happened that I had brought no such luxury to my post. Of this I informed the female mercury; but desired her to offer my best acknowledgments to her employers, and to add that I had sent to the rear in order to procure it. With this message she departed, having promised to keep in sight for at least half an hour, and to return as soon as I should make a sign that the tea had arrived.

My bugler made good speed, and soon returned with about a quarter of a pound of black tea, the half of the stock which remained in my canteen. In the meanwhile the French officers continued sitting together, and all rose when I waved my cap to their carrier. The old lady was not remiss in taking the hint. I handed over to her the little parcel, with numerous apologies for its tenuity, and had the satisfaction to perceive that, trifling as it was, it proved acceptable. The party pulled off their hats as an acknowledgment—I did the same; and we each departed to our respective stations.