I stated in another part of my narrative that, except on one occasion, I could not tax my memory with any symptom of violent or permanent grief on the part of a soldier's wife at the death of her husband. The case to which I then alluded occurred to-day. A fine young Irishman, the pay-sergeant of my own company, had brought his wife with him to the seat of war. He married her, it appeared, against the wish of her relatives, they considering themselves in a walk of life superior to his. To what class of society they belonged I cannot tell; but she, I know, was a lady's-maid to some person of rank, when the handsome face and manly form of M'Dermot stole her heart away. They had been married about a year and a half, during the whole of which time she had borne the most unblemished character, and they were accounted the happiest couple in the regiment. Poor things! they were this day separated for ever.
M'Dermot was as brave and good a soldier as any in the army; he was at times even foolhardy. Having observed a recruit or two cower down in no very dignified manner as a cannon-ball passed over them, M'Dermot, by way of teaching them to despise danger, threw himself at his ease on the summit of the sand-hill, with his head towards the enemy's guns. He was in the act of laughing at these lads, assuring them that "every bullet has its billet," when a round-shot struck him on the crown of the head and smashed him to atoms. I shall never forget the shriek that was raised. He was a prodigious favourite with all ranks; and then all of us thought of his poor young wife, so spotless, and so completely wrapped up in him. "Oh, who will tell Nance of this?" said another non-commissioned officer, his principal companion. "Poor Nance!" cried the soldiers, one and all; so true is it that virtue is respected, and a virtuous woman nowhere more beloved than among British soldiers. But there was no hiding it from Nance. The news reached her, heaven knows how, long before we returned to our tents, and she was in the midst of us in a state which beggars all description in five minutes after the event took place.
I cannot so much as attempt to delineate the scene that followed. The poor creature was evidently deranged, for she would not believe that the mangled carcass before her was her husband; and she never shed a tear. "That! oh, that is not he!" cried she; "that M'Dermot!—my own handsome, beautiful M'Dermot! Oh no, no—take it away, or take me away, and bring me to him!" She was removed with gentle violence to the camp, and the body was buried, a young fir-tree being planted over it.
Several days passed before Mrs M'Dermot was sufficiently calm to look her situation in the face. But at last the feeling of utter desolation came over her; and instead of listening, as women in her position generally do, to the proposals of some new suitor, all her wishes pointed homewards. To her home she was accordingly sent. We raised for her a handsome subscription, every officer and man contributing something; and I have reason to believe that she is now respectably settled in Cork, though still a widow.
CHAPTER XXIII.
From the date of the occurrences just described—namely the 27th of February—the siege of Bayonne may be said to have fairly commenced. To follow in regular detail the events of each day as it proceeded would not, I am sure, greatly interest my readers; and to lay such detail before them would be to myself an occupation little less irksome than it sometimes was to kill the tedious hours of a ten weeks' blockade. I may be permitted, therefore, to state generally, and in few words, that the strictest investment was continued all the while, and that an extremely harassing kind of duty was imposed upon us till the siege and the war were brought to an end together by the hoisting of the white flag on the 28th of the following April. Premising this, I shall merely take the liberty of narrating, without regard to dates or natural order, such incidents and adventures as appeared to myself best deserving of record at the time.
In the first place, then, it may be observed that, while on our side of the river no other works were erected than such as appeared indispensable for strengthening our own position, and rendering the bridge and the highroad, and the stores brought up by them, secure, the Guards and Germans on the other side were busily employed in digging trenches, and pushing forward active operations against the citadel. These, as may be imagined, they were not permitted to carry on without being annoyed in every practicable manner by the besieged. A continual, or rather a dropping and irregular fire of cannon, was kept up upon their parties from the ramparts, to which even the darkness of the night brought no cessation; for blue-lights were thrown out wherever the people were at work, the flame of which guided the artillerymen in taking aim. Nor were we wholly exempt from that species of entertainment. On the contrary, as the erection of a three-gun battery on the top of our hill was deemed necessary, we worked at it by turns till it was completed; and, as a matter of course, we worked under the fire of all the cannon and mortars which could be brought to bear upon us. These working parties are by far the most unpleasant of all the employments to which a soldier is liable. There is in them nothing of excitement, with a great deal of danger; and danger, where there is no excitement, no man would voluntarily choose to incur for its own sake. Let me describe one of these mornings' amusements.
It fell to my lot frequently to superintend the people when at work. The spot on which we laboured was high, and therefore completely exposed to the view of the enemy. It was the top of the hill opposite to them. Immediately on our arrival, a four-gun battery, with one howitzer and two nine-inch mortars, began to play upon us. They were well served, for the balls hit apparently in every quarter except the particular spots on which each of us stood. On such occasions, if there be no very pressing demand for the completion of the work, you generally station one of your party to watch. As soon as he perceives a flash he calls out—"Shot," or "Shell," as the case may be. If it be simply a cannon-shot, you either toil on without heeding it, or having covered yourself as well as you can till the ball strike, you start up again and seize your tools. If it be a shell, you lie quite still till it burst. The unmilitary reader may perhaps question whether it be possible to tell the nature of the missile which is coming against you, when as yet it has barely escaped from the muzzle of the gun, and is still a mile or more distant; but he who has been in the habit of attending to these matters will entertain no such doubt. Not to mention the fact that an experienced eye can trace, by means of the burning fuze, the whole journey of a shell through the air, from its expulsion till its fall, the more perpendicular flight of the smoke may of itself inform him who takes the trouble to observe when it issues from a mortar; and there is a sharpness in the report of a gun which will effectually distinguish the one from the other, even if the sense of sight should fail. I have heard men assert that they can trace, not only a shell, but a cannon-ball through the air. This may be possible; but if it be, it is possible only to those whose sense of sight is far more acute than mine.
Though abundantly annoying, the cannonade of which I am speaking proved but little destructive of human life. I do not believe, though continued for several weeks, it cost us five men. Neither was an attempt which the enemy by-and-by made to shell us out of our position more successful. Hidden from their view by the sand-hills, we lay exposed only to such aim as a calculation of distances might enable their gunners to take; and this, besides that it was not always very accurate, had, in the nature of the soil on which our tents stood, much to defeat it. Shells falling among loose sand bury themselves so far into the ground as to take away a good deal from the force of their destructiveness. Probably the French artillerists guessed, from the perfect indifference with which we treated them, that they were wasting their ammunition. At all events, they slackened their fire by degrees, and by-and-by restrained it altogether.
Unless my memory greatly deceive me, the chief subject of complaint amongst us at this time was that we were fettered to one spot, and that there was not in our situation peril or excitement enough to hinder us from feeling the confinement as a grievous restraint. Though tolerably secure, from the nature of the ground, our post was one of vast importance—that is to say, had the enemy succeeded in forcing it, they might have easily made their way to the bridge ere any fresh troops could be brought to oppose them. Under these circumstances, it was considered imprudent to wander far or frequently from the tents; and hence even the resource of fishing and shooting was in a great measure taken away from us. My friend and I did indeed occasionally venture into the woods; but these excursions were too rare to be very profitable, and our limits too confined to furnish an abundance of game.