[302, July 1813]

CHAPTER XX

‘ERLON remained inactive at Maya on the 26th July; but, stimulated by Soult, he advanced on the afternoon of the 27th by Elizondo, and in the evening the 92nd, with Hill’s troops, retired. Each division of the allied army was ignorant of what had happened to the other; alarming reports were spread; the narrow glens and roads were blocked with the baggage, stores, and artillery of the Sixth and Seventh Divisions, which had preceded them, and by the fugitive families of the country people; so that when it got dark the troops were compelled to halt on one of the lower heights of the pass of Lanz. At daybreak on the 28th they resumed their march, and at noon halted near La Zarza. Thinking themselves secure of a rest for the night, the beef was boiling in the kettles, and officers and men were washing and shaving the four days’ growth on their chins. All was going on quietly, when suddenly the bugles sounded the “Fall in!” In a moment the ground was covered with soup, the half-shaved soldiers stood laughing at each other in the ranks, and in ten minutes they were on the road to Pampeluna, near which the first battle of Sauroren was being fought, with great determination and loss on both sides. Here the French, 25,000 strong, under Sault, with great gallantry attacked Wellington in a strong position, which he successfully defended.

Being too late to take part in the battle of the 28th, the 92nd halted near Lizasso and bivouacked, and next day advanced about a mile nearer to Pampeluna. Both armies rested on the 29th without firing a shot, while the wandering divisions on both sides were being brought into the line. Wellington had vindicated his position with 16,000 combatants; he had now, including the troops blockading Pampeluna, 50,000, of whom 20,000 were British. Hill occupied strong ground between Lizasso and Arestegui, and was well placed for retaking the offensive.

Sault had been reinforced by 18,000 men, but finding it impossible to penetrate to Pampeluna, he proposed to make such dispositions as might enable him to relieve San Sebastian. On the morning of the 30th July, Wellington attacked and drove back the enemy in the second battle of Sauroren; and Soult, seeing his retreat endangered, determined to prevent his flank being turned by crushing Hill’s troops with superior numbers. For that purpose he took d’Erlon’s Corps, the same troops who fought at Maya, and the division of cavalry in support, not less than 20,000 sabres and bayonets, Hill having barely half that number.

When Soult’s attack became obvious, the 92nd, commanded by Major John MacPherson, moved with the First Brigade to line the brow of a ridge facing the plain on which the enemy was forming [303, July 1813] his columns; the Second Brigade was in support, and two brigades of Portuguese occupied a height on the right of the road. The 8th and Light Companies of the 92nd formed a guard to Sir Rowland Hill on a height to the left. A strong body of French infantry was pushed along the base of the hill with the view of turning Hill’s left, and the First Brigade, screened by trees and brushwood, made a corresponding movement along the summit. When the French attempted to ascend at an easier part of the ridge, the 50th halted, the 71st extended in skirmishing order, and the 92nd was formed into two divisions; that on the right as a sort of movable column to support where required, while the left division was pushed along the hill-top to watch the enemy on the left. One of the officers was sent down alone, with orders to give notice of the first appearance of the enemy. After advancing some way, their approach was announced to him by a rustling noise in the bushes, and he immediately gave the alarm; he was fired at, but escaped. As soon as the Highlanders arrived, they at once attacked the French Light Infantry, and drove them back with great loss. After this our men continued to skirmish in extended order, till a battalion of grenadiers issued from a wood on their left, and with drums beating and shouts of “Vive l’Empereur,” advanced to the charge. The Highland skirmishers were at once called in. “We had four small companies, while the French were from 500 to 600 strong.”  Thinking it best to meet them half-way, Captain Seton, who commanded, stepped in front of his little corps and, with his bonnet in the left hand and his sword in the other, called, “Ninety-second, follow me!”  After proceeding about twenty paces he fell to the rear, as is usual on such occasions, and gave the word “Charge.”

“Our lads moved forward with great spirit to measure bayonets with their opponents. But from such an unequal trial of strength we were most unexpectedly relieved by the 34th Regiment, who, coming in sight of us just as we were moving forward, gave three hearty cheers and joined us in our offensive movement. Being still superior in numbers, the enemy seemed for a little quite determined to wait our assault; but somehow, when we arrived within thirty paces, they wheeled about and retired, hotly pursued by our two little corps. Their loss was considerable; their commandant, a fine young man with two or three decorations, fell mortally wounded.”[1]

The enemy, reinforced, again advanced. They were opposed with determined bravery, till increased numbers enabled them to outflank Hill’s left, and his troops were reluctantly obliged to [304, July 1813] retire about a mile from the ridge to some high rocks, from which they hurled defiance at the French below.

The Second Brigade and other troops were also hotly engaged, and the Highlanders, from their rocky fortress, admired the courage of some of the Portuguese troops, who, though forced to retire fighting to a height two miles in rear, on being reinforced by a brigade of their countrymen, in turn became the assailants, and drove the French down the ridge at the point of the bayonet. Hill, having been joined by Campbell and Morillo, again offered battle; but Sault, having gained his object by turning Hill’s left and securing a line of retreat, declined it, and thus ended the serious operations in the combat of Buenza, though an irregular fire was kept up till sunset. The Highlanders could see the bonfires kindled at night by the garrison of Pampeluna, rejoicing in the hope of relief.

In the two battles of the 30th July, the Allies lost in killed and wounded 1900 men, of whom nearly 1200 were Portuguese. On the French side the loss was enormous; two divisions were completely disorganised. Foy’s Division was entirely separated from the main body; at the lowest computation, 2000 men had been killed and wounded, and 3000 prisoners were taken.

The Gordon Highlanders killed in action were:—Sergeant Jas. Allan, Corporal Robert Anderson, Privates John Brookes, William Dougald, Hugh Johnstone, David M’Intosh, Symon MacKenzie, Donald Maclean, Murdoch Ross, John Wright. Captain G. W. Holmes and twenty-six rank and file were wounded.[2]

An officer mentions that an order was issued early in the morning of the 30th for all men who could not keep up with their battalion to be sent to the baggage. He selected three from his company; two went with apparent goodwill, but William Dougald respectfully told him he would rather die than leave his comrades. He had been hit three times by spent bullets on the 25th, and though not much minded at the time, the wounds had become so inflamed by subsequent exertion that on the 30th he could scarcely drag his right leg after him. “I shall never forget the exertions he made to keep up with his companions, and the admirable manner in which he performed his duty in action till stretched a lifeless corpse on the heights of La Zarza.”

John Brookes, one of the two who quitted the company agreeable to order, had also been struck by a musket ball on the 25th; [305, July 1813] it had been turned aside by his leather-stock, but his throat had become so inflamed that by the 30th he could hardly speak intelligibly. The brave fellow having obeyed orders with apparent alacrity, his officer was astonished, on going into action, to see him only a few paces in rear on his way to rejoin his company, but had no time to take notice of his disobedience at the moment; and Brookes conducted himself with his usual spirit and gallantry, till another bullet struck him on the same place and killed him on the spot.[3]  The third man, Hugh Johnstone (the same who saved his master’s property at the expense of his own at Maya), had rejoined the company along with Brookes, and soon after was very severely wounded. He was carried to the rear, but subsequent movements placed him in the enemy’s hands, where he remained without medical aid till the French retreated next day, when his master sent a party to carry him to La Zarza. They attended to him, but he was exhausted from loss of blood, and expired in his comrades’ arms, with a smile on his countenance. “Such was the premature fate of as good a soldier and faithful servant as ever graced the ranks of the British army.”  No doubt examples of chivalrous bravery occurred in the other companies similar to those recorded by this officer in his Memoir.

When the 92nd retired from the ridge where they had been so long engaged, a Portuguese battalion was ordered to cover the retreat, but their conduct proved an exception to the generally conspicuous gallantry of their countrymen in this campaign. In the valley, between the ridge and the rocks to which the 92nd retired, there were some houses which should have been held by the Portuguese, but of which they allowed the French to get possession, taking the shortest road to safety. Enraged to see this post lost by the bad behaviour of his men, their colonel rode up to the standard-bearer, snatched the flag from his hands, and galloped to within one hundred yards of the houses, where he remained for a considerable time with the enemy’s shot flying about his ears, while he waved the colour round his head to induce his men to follow.[4]  The gallant young colonel (he was only captain in the British army) was a Highlander, he had both an uncle and a brother in the 92nd, and it was with the greatest difficulty their officers could prevent the Highlanders from breaking away to render their countryman the aid which his Portuguese refused; but the orders were peremptory, and soon they had the pleasure of congratulating the young commander on his hairbreadth escape from the danger in which his gallantry had placed him, for his cloak and body-clothes were pierced in several places by musket balls. His [306, July 1813] name was John MacDonald of Da1chosnie, and he many years afterwards commanded the Gordon Highlanders.

On the evening of the 29th, the officers of the First Brigade were enjoying that restful day in the shade of a wide-spreading tree, when an officer of the 50th, fresh from Lisbon, passed in all the smartness of new equipment and clean clothes. When he dismounted to report his arrival to the commanding officer, Colonel Fitzgerald of the 60th Rifles, then commanding the Light Companies of the Second Division, offered to bet twenty dollars “that the officer just arrived is either killed or a prisoner within twenty-four hours.”  The wager was taken and won, for the officer, horse and all, was in the hands of the French before the period named; but Fitzgerald was never paid, for a few hours later he was himself led captive to France.[5]

Hill’s force was now 15,000 men, and Wellington’s dispositions were such that the French marshal was placed between two fires, his only line of retreat being by the Pass of Donna Maria. Towards it he began his march soon after midnight, giving the rear guard to d’Erlon, whose divisions, having been hitherto successful, were in good order. They occupied their ground opposite Hill’s Corps till about eight o’clock on the morning of the 31st, thus giving time for the rest of Soult’s army to be well on their way. Hill immediately followed, the pursuit being led by the First Brigade, Second Division. They came up with the rear guard about noon, when serious skirmishing took place in the woods. The main body of d’Erlon’s troops had by this time gained the pass, the road to which leads up a steep rocky hill covered with trees and brushwood. On getting through the wood where they were first engaged, our troops found themselves within three hundred yards of the enemy crowded together on the road. Now was the time for artillery. One field-piece and one howitzer were coming up, but the officer was at a loss for a road through the difficult ground, when Mr Firth, the chaplain, who was as good a soldier as a preacher, and had been up with the leading troops, acted as guide to ground from which the guns could open on the enemy with effect. The men were amused at seeing the minister in this new character; “Gude guide us,” cried one of them, “see to the minister leading the artillery!”  “I’m sure he’s nae business runnin’ himsel’ into danger,” said another. “Haud yer tongue, ye gowk,” answered a third. “He’s the very man that should be there; he’s prepared.”[6]

The first shell knocked down a number of men, and almo3: every shot took fatal effect, throwing the enemy’s rear columns into [307, July 1813] confusion, so that they scattered through the woods on each side. The infantry was now called on; the 50th ascended the hill to the left of the road; the 71st, in extended order, skirmished with the French along the hillside between the right of the 50th and the road; while the 92nd took the high road, and attacked the main body of the enemy in their front; the Second and Fourth Brigades, Second Division, were in support, and the Seventh Division, under the Earl of Dalhousie, moved by a parallel road to attack the enemy’s left flank. Their skirmishers being driven in, the main body, several thousand strong, faced about and made good battle, opening on our troops with a heavy fire of musketry. The 92nd, under Major MacPherson, charged in defiance of shot and numbers, but were repulsed with loss. A captain was taken prisoner in the mêlée and disarmed, but he knocked down with his fist the French officer who took him, ran off, and succeeded in rejoining his company, being, however, shot through the arm as he did so. Again the 92nd charged with a like result. A third time they led the charge, this time joined by the Second Brigade, and the enemy was at last driven over the Pass. The loss of the Allies was under 400 men, that of the French is unknown, and was probably less. Lieut.-General Sir Rowland Hill, under whose eye the battalion was engaged, bestowed most flattering encomiums on its gallantry, “and the enemy’s defeat was particularly ascribed to the persevering bravery individually displayed in the ranks of the 92nd.”[7]

An officer relates, “At the close of this day’s engagement, I could only muster thirteen privates out of eighty-two n.c. officers and privates which I carried into action six days before”; and he was himself wounded. Major MacPherson being severely wounded (his horse was killed under him), the command of the battalion devolved upon Captain Seton (who, though it is not mentioned in Cannon’s Record, is entered in the Regimental Return as “slightly wounded”). The other officers wounded were Captains Jas. Lee and Dugald Campbell; Lieutenant Jas. Hope and Ensign Thomas Mitchell. Cannon’s Record gives ten rank and file killed and 69 wounded, but I can only find the names of the following eight n.c. officers and men killed, viz. Sergeant Charles MacGregor,[8] Privates Angus Campbell, Alexr. Gow, Ewen Gordon, John Murray (1st), Roderick Ross, Jas. Shaw, Alexr. Watt. The morning state of August 1st gives 3 sergeants, 76 rank and file, “sent to the rear wounded.”

Besides the three officers already mentioned, the following [308, July 1813] n.c. officers and privates, wounded on the 25th, 30th, and died of their wounds between July 27th and August 13th inclusive, viz. Sergeant John Cumming; Corporals Willm. Leil and Willm. Craig; Privates Alexr. Clarke, Graham Cattanach, Willm. Bain, Willm. Davidson, Thos. Gowrie, Jonathan M’Donald, John MacPherson, and Jas. Strachan. Though a large portion of the wounded afterwards rejoined, the battalion did not recover during the war from the appalling losses of seasoned soldiers it sustained from the 25th to the 31st July 1813.

D’Erlon was not routed, but retreated slowly and in good order, and pursuit was prevented by a thick fog. That evening a picket of the Light Company was taken rather cleverly. A body of troops approached, and when challenged, answered “Españoles.”  The Highlanders, completely deceived, were surrounded before they discovered their mistake, disarmed, and carried off, each guarded by two men with fixed bayonets. They had to ford a river, just above a place where it rushed down, dark and deep, between high rocks wooded on either hand; as they waded across some of the men agreed to chance the bayonets and dive for it, a while their guards were taken up with their own footing, these hardy Highlanders plunged down the rapid, were lost to view among the trees, and regained their battalion. The narrator, Ferguson, however, said he did not like the look of the bayonets his side well enough to risk getting one in his inside, and with two or three others was kept prisoner.

No two generals ever commanded both the respect and affection of their troops more than Sir Rowland Hill, and the Hon. Sir William Stewart who commanded the Second Division of Hill’s Corps, and who followed his superior’s example both in professional enthusiasm and in consideration for the comfort of his men. To see them contented and happy was the delight of both. Sir William, wounded on the 25th, had been obliged to leave his Command; but on hearing of the battle of the 30th, he had a pillow fastened to his saddle so as to keep the wounded leg from coming in contact with the horse’s side, and rejoined his troops before the came up with the enemy on the 31st. The enthusiastic cheers of the soldiers welcomed him back, but he was soon again severely wounded, and compelled once more to go to the rear. On hi rejoining the division a few weeks afterwards, a party of the Gordon Highlanders placed themselves on the road by which he had to pass. When he arrived, one of them stepped forward, and saluting: said, “Oh, General, ye maun drink wi’ us.”  “With all my heart, my men,” replied the general to this unexpected request, and, taking the cup, drank to them, expressing his gratification at their attention, and at finding them in such good health and spirits. He [309, Aug 1813] then rode off to the camp, where the rest of the regiment were standing in front of their tents, and received their general and friend with joyous acclamations, every bonnet flying into the air as high as its owner could heave it. Gratifying as the demonstration no doubt was to Sir William, it nearly deprived him of an aide-decamp, whose horse, unprepared for this Highland welcome, whisked to the right about, and galloped down the hill, to the amusement of the spectators, but the hazard of its rider’s neck.[9]

The evening of the 31st was spent in carrying in the wounded and in the sad duty of burying the dead, a mournful time for the remaining Gordons, who had lately lost so many with whom they had been united by bonds of closest friendship. But though, says Sergeant Robertson, they wished these scenes of carnage might be ended, they were none the less ready to do their duty when, on the morning of the 1st of August, they once more entered the valley of the Bastan and encamped at Elizondo, where they were visited by one of those terrific thunderstorms so common in that mountainous region. On the 2nd, the First Brigade took possession of its old ground on the heights of Maya, and the opposing armies reoccupied much the same position held by them on the 25th of July. One can imagine the feelings of the British, which I have heard expressed by some who witnessed the heartrending spectacle, when they found the unburied corpses of many of their comrades killed on the 25th, and left by the French a prey to the eagles and vultures. During those nine days several combats had taken place besides those in which the 92nd were engaged; they were all fiercely contested. The encounters were often at the point of the bayonet, charges up and down the rocky mountain sides gave constant opportunity for individual prowess, while, with the exception of the 29th of July, the troops were in constant motion between the fighting, exposed in the valleys to the excessive heat of a Spanish midsummer which made the cold fogs and heavy rains of the high mountain passes the more trying. In memory of this short but bloody campaign, the 92nd afterwards received the royal authority to bear the word “Pyrenees” on their colours, and when, after the lapse of many years, the Peninsular medal was given to officers and men, all the battles were represented by one clasp. Gold medals were, however, conferred at the time on Major MacPherson, who was promoted [310, Aug 1813] Brevet Lieut.-Colonel, and on Captain Seton,[10] who now commanded the battalion, which was reduced to about 300 rank and file.[11]

On the 8th of August the Second Division was relieved at Maya by the Sixth, and the 92nd encamped that evening at Los Alduides on the French frontier. Next day, after a long stiff pull, they encamped on one of the tremendous ridges near Roncesvalles on which the division on the right of the British line had been engaged on the 25th of July. During August the battalion was engaged in making blockhouses and breastworks on the commanding points of the position.

It may be here mentioned that in the monthly return for July, one private had been discharged by authority of the Prince Regent on account of his being promoted in the 87th Regiment, name not given; and in September, Volunteer John Clarke, 92nd, was promoted ensign in the regiment.

At this time a colour-sergeant was appointed by War Office circular to each company of infantry, a rank which had not hitherto existed.

A few men kept rejoining from hospital or duty in Spain. On September 13th, 8 sergeants joined from the Second Battalion, and 2 sergeants and 22 rank and file on the 25th.

Meanwhile, on the 31st of August, San Sebastian was taken, where Lieutenant John Ross of the 92nd, serving with a Portuguese regiment, was killed; and later, Lieutenant W. Fyfe was promoted captain “vice Arnot, dead of his wounds,” but where wounded does not appear.

At Roncesvalles the British outposts were near those of the enemy, but although kept continually on the qui vive, the opponents exchanged many little courtesies. The French would offer wine or cigars, while they valued more than any other attention a London or Edinburgh newspaper, for their own were so unreliable that “He lies like a Moniteur” or “He lies like a bulletin” were common sayings with them. And the French General Fay actually sent an aide-de-camp with a flag of truce asking for a London newspaper with the details of the late actions.

Pampeluna capitulated on the 31st of October, which not only lessened Soult’s inducements to attack, but added the troops employed in the blockade to Wellington’s effective field force. The 92nd had moved twice during October for a few days to the heights of Don Carlos, returning, however, to Roncesvalles, where they now had leisure for amusement. This they found in weekly horse and [311, Nov 1813] foot races, bull-fights, and in the wine-houses of the village of Roncesvalles. They made beds of branches covered with ferns and grass to keep them off the damp ground, where “we reposed as comfortably as on the best bed in England.”  When the weather at last became very bad, the troops were recalled from the heights, save the outlying pickets, and an in-lying picket of 500 men. These suffered greatly from a snowstorm, followed by severe frost on the 28th. “Snow fell to a greater depth than I had ever seen it in Scotland”: the drifts were twelve feet deep, some of the outlying pickets were covered and had to be dug out, says an officer of the 92nd; and Sergeant Robertson relates that a picket of the 57th perished, and were only discovered by the top of the sergeant’s halberd appearing above the snow. He also mentions that it was remarked by the general officers “that though the 92nd wore the Highland dress, none of them were frost-bitten.” The First Brigade now marched into the village of Roncesvalles, where General Byng (afterwards Earl of Strafford) gave up the greater part of his house to the officers of the 92nd, and invited them all to dine with him.

The changed aspect of affairs now enabled Wellington to carry the war into the enemy’s country. He had, by the famous passage of the Bidassoa at Fuentarabia and Hendaye, invaded French territory, and he now prepared to attack their fortified positions on the Nivelle from St Jean de Luz on the sea, to Ainhoa below the Pass of Maya, a distance of about twelve miles. Accordingly, the Second, Third, and Fourth Brigades, Second Division, marched from Roncesvalles on the 6th of November. The enemy on that day attacked a Spanish picket a mile in front of the village; the Spaniards defended themselves bravely, but were nearly all killed or wounded. The advanced post being withdrawn from the right of the position to the blockhouse between it and Roncesvalles, the enemy pushed forward a strong reconnoitring party on the afternoon of the 7th, and attacked the blockhouse occupied by Captain Holmes and a picket of the 92nd. On the alarm, the First Brigade came to their assistance, General Mina and his Spaniards being the first to draw the attentions of the French, who retired hotly pursued. The 92nd had a private wounded, and two taken prisoners in the skirmish. Next day at 4 p.m. they moved with the First Brigade, and after a march in the dark over rough mountain roads, arrived in the village of Los Alduides after midnight. At daybreak on the 9th they started to join the division in rear of Maya, where the whole country seemed covered with men, horses, cannon, and baggage. Here they rested till 9 p.m., when the advance was resumed; they passed their comrades’ graves in the memorable pass of Maya, and stumbling through rough grass, stones, [312, Nov 1813] and heather, hardly able to keep themselves awake, they reached the Nivelle at 6.30 a.m. on the 10th November, and the brigade was in the act of crossing that little river which here forms the boundary between France and Spain, when the sound of artillery on the left of the army announced the commencement of the great battle. Here they were allowed to rest before being called into action.

On this occasion Wellington had the superiority in numbers, and he used it with great ability against Soult’s very strong position, which extended along a range of heights from near St Jean de Luz on his right to Ainhoa on his left, which heights were defended by entrenchments and redoubts. The First and Fifth Divisions engaged the enemy’s right, the Third, Fourth, Sixth, and Light Divisions were directed against his centre, and the Second Division, Hamilton’s Portuguese and Morillo’s Spaniards, attacked the redoubts on his left, the Sixth Division being also sent up the right bank of the Nivelle to their assistance. There were two strong redoubts on the French extreme left beyond Ainhoa, occupied by a considerable body of infantry; lower down, and behind Ainhoa, were three redoubts, each mounting several guns of large calibre. It was against this part of the French line that the 92nd, again commanded by Lieut.-Colonel Cameron, was led. The battle on the British centre and left had been hid from their view, but now the Highlanders could see, and took part in, the interesting operations of 26,000 men, under Generals Stewart, Clinton, and Hamilton, pending the assault of the heights.

The country was difficult, and it was eleven o’clock before they got within cannon shot of the redoubts: but Clinton and Hamilton having turned the right of the enemy’s position at Ainhoa, the French immediately opposed to the 92nd made little resistance, running out of the redoubts in confusion; many prisoners were taken, and their own guns were turned to give them a parting salute. The Highlanders took possession of the Frenchmen’s huts, where they passed the night very comfortably, being employed during the afternoon in collecting and attending to the enemy’s wounded.

When, in after years, the regiments engaged were given authority to bear Nivelle on their colours and appointments, the 92nd and other regiments of the First Brigade were not included in the grant. It is true that the principal action was fought, and the great loss sustained, in the centre and on a space of about seven miles; but the action of Hill’s Corps and the Second Division, in which was the 92nd, had an important effect on the success of the combinations, which failed in no point,[12] and the fact that the battalion captured the redoubt with the loss of only one man [313, Nov 1813] wounded, in no way detracts from the credit of their bold attack.

The Allies had about 90,000 men; the French 79,000, of whom, however, Foy’s Division acted separately. The former had 2690 officers and men killed and wounded, and Generals Knight and Byng were wounded. The loss of the French was 4265 officers and men, of whom about 1400 were prisoners, and one general was killed; the field magazines and fifty-one pieces of artillery were taken.

On the day following the battle of the Nivelle, the army advanced in order of battle. Sir John Hope, on the left, marched by St Jean de Luz on Bidart; Marshal Beresford, in the centre, moved upon Arbonne, and General Hill, communicating by his right with Morillo, who was on the rocks of Mondarain, brought his left forward into communication with Beresford, and with his centre took possession of Suraide and Espelette, facing towards Cambo. The time taken by these movements enabled Soult to rally his army upon a line of fortified camps, his right resting on the coast at Bidart, and the left at Ustaritz on the Nive. Foy had driven back Mina’s Spaniards on the right of Hill’s troops on the l0th, and taken a quantity of baggage, but finding that d’Erlon was giving way before Hill, he retreated during the night, and on the 11th reached Cambo and Ustaritz, ready to defend them against Hill.

About 10 a.m. on the 11th, the 9 2nd, with the Second Division, quitted the heights from which they had driven the enemy the preceding day, but after advancing three or four miles they halted. The rain, which fen in torrents, rendered the country roads impassable for artillery, and no attempt was made to drive the enemy further back. They, however, retired at sunset. The 92nd encamped on a heathery hill near Espelette, where they spent a most uncomfortable night, for even cooking was difficult, as the wood was too wet to burn. On the 12th, Hill tried to pass the fords of the Nive, and also made a demonstration against Cambo, but the floods rendered the fords impassable, and both places were successfully defended by Foy. In these operations the 92nd, with the First Brigade, moved by Espelette along the road to Cambo, drove back the enemy’s pickets to within a short distance of his works, and then ascended a height which overlooked the town and its defences from the right. Sir Rowland reconnoitred, and finding the enemy better prepared than he expected, contented himself with driving in their light troops and cannonading the garrison. The 92nd passed the night in the neighbourhood. Their baggage had not yet arrived, and the fires they made roasted one side of a man’s body while the other was iced by the [314, Nov 1813] winter wind. The battalion had one man wounded this day at Espelette.

The baggage arrived on the 13th, but the rain ceased not from the evening of the 12th to the 16th, when the enemy retired over the Nive, destroying two arches of the bridge to prevent his being followed; and the battalion marched into Cambo, after a skirmish with the enemy’s rear guard.[13]  It appeared that the French had told their countrymen that the British would murder them, and they found no one in Cambo but one dragoon, who had been left behind, a bedridden old man and his wife, and a pig—for the head of the latter a Highland officer paid four dollars. The soldiers did not regret the absence of the inhabitants, as they had left their beds, which were a treat to men, many of whom had only been under the roof of a house thirteen nights out of the last one hundred and eighty-one days.[14]

The order books and morning states of this period are lost, but it appears from monthly returns that a private was discharged, November 25th, by authority of the Prince Regent, on account of being promoted to ensign in the York Light Infantry Volunteers, name not given. A draft of 100 rank and file, from the 2nd Battalion in Scotland, joined at Cambo on November 27th, “the greater portion of them fine-looking stout young fellows, and proved a great acquisition.”  At the same time four officers, who were doing duty with the First Battalion, but who belonged to the Second, were ordered, much to their regret, to join it in Glasgow.

Notwithstanding the hardships, the British army was at this time exceptionally healthy, there being hardly any sick except the wounded, and of these numbers were rejoining the battalion; one private joined at Cambo “from reported dead.”  The troops felt a just pride in contrasting their present position, quartered as victors in a French town, with their situation at the same date in the previous year, when retreating before the French into Portugal.

As soon as his army entered France, Wellington’s first care was to establish the system of regular payment for supplies, which had so greatly contributed to his previous success. He issued a proclamation to the allied troops, in which, after recounting the miseries which the exactions of the French troops had brought upon Spain and upon themselves, he added that it would be unworthy to retaliate on the innocent inhabitants of France. “The officers and soldiers of the army must recollect that their nations [315, Nov 1813] are at war with France, solely because the ruler of the French nation will not allow them to be at peace, and is desirous of forcing them to submit to his yoke.” A proclamation to the same effect was published among the inhabitants, who at first would not believe in such moderation. The Spanish and Portuguese soldiers had in many cases suffered great wrongs, which they revenged on the French people, but these acts were punished with death, and when Mina’s Spaniards continued to murder and pillage, Wellington sent them back into Spain, retaining only those commanded by Morillo. The confidence of the peasantry became so great that they brought their produce to the British army as being the best market. As an old soldier told me, “Wellington was awfu’ agin’ plunder; I’ve seen the son of a bailie o’ the toun o’ Montrose get 300 lashes for stealing a hen!  But he was richt, for a plundering army is whiles fu’ an’ whiles fasting.” [316, Nov 1813]

From the 16th of November to the 8th of December the two armies remained in cantonments. The floods had rendered both roads and rivers impassable, and the troops at Cambo interchanged civilities with those on the opposite bank of the river; the French bands played, and conscripts were drilled within sight and hearing. Newspapers were constantly exchanged, till intercourse was interrupted by active operations. One exception occurred to the general politeness of the Frenchmen. A lieutenant of the 92nd was on picket on the broken bridge, and, as he spoke French fluently, thought he would beguile the time by a chat with the officer opposite, and desired the sentry to tell him so, with his compliments; but the Frenchman, instead of agreeing to the proposal, threatened with violent language to have him shot, and when the discomfited Highlander walked back to his picket-house, a ball struck the door as he entered; but in general a French officer, if he considered that one of his opponents was on forbidden ground, would courteously salute him, and explain that he must retire.

Quartermaster-sergeant M’Combie, 92nd, in his Journal, refers to the absence of personal ill-feeling between the British and the French, and mentions one occasion on which they met while foraging and helped each other in the most friendly manner. He also says of a French family on whom he was billeted, “We were canty an’ crouse thegither.”  Lieut. Gleig of the 68th (afterwards chaplain-general of the army) mentions that once when the advanced sentries were separated only by a hedge, and the French were about to retire, the British soldiers helped them to put on their packs, and on another occasion the field officer, going his rounds at night, found the British and French n.c. officers and men drinking together.[15]