As we proceeded, we heard a heavy firing as if from the left of the town, and soon after beheld a disorganized mass of Spanish soldiers flying towards us. At first some of our fellows took them for the French, and fired among them, by which some lives were lost. They were a part of the Spanish force who attempted to carry a French fort or redoubt, from which the enemy had sent them to the right-about faster than they had come. We continued to approach the town, which was protected by a long series of fortifications, and that appeared full of men. On our approaching, they opened a running fire from some field-works, but with little execution, as we were sheltered by some trees and walls of houses near the place where we halted. We had not remained in this quiescent state long, when the thunder of the conflict was heard going on in full roar on our left: the salvos of artillery, with the constant cracking of musketry and the rushing sound of shells, together with the occasional wild “hurra,” formed a very pretty concert. The scene was still more electrifying when we found it to be the sixth division engaged in storming batteries, which the Spaniards had just run from; they at length carried them, after a hard tug, in glorious style; General Picton’s division was also conspicuously engaged on our right, close to the river. The general attack was crowned with the Duke of Wellington’s usual success: the enemy retreating over the bridges of the canal of Languedoc into the town of Toulouse, while we took possession of their outworks.
The French army on the second day evacuated Toulouse, as the town was completely commanded by the batteries we had taken. Our battalion was ordered to take possession of part of the suburbs, near the canal. Although there was a strict order that no man should be allowed to go into the town, my curiosity induced me to take “French leave” to see a place I had heard so much of; so I managed to elude the vigilance of the sentry. I found almost all the shops open, and business going on apparently as if nothing had taken place. Hearing that the theatre was open, I was induced to pay it a visit: it was very crowded. One box I perceived very magnificently fitted up, and surmounted by laurel, and while I was wondering for whose occupation it was intended, my curiosity was at once allayed by the arrival of the Duke and his staff, who were received with loud acclamations. “God save the King” was played, and all appeared to testify the greatest pleasure on the occasion but myself. I, indeed, I must fairly confess, feared that my insignificance would not conceal me from the glance of the chief or some of his staff, although wedged into the centre of a dense crowd in the pit. My dark dress, however, effectually screened me.
CHAPTER XXII.
We continue to pursue the enemy on their retreat—Halted on the second day—A carriage brings Soult and peace—French troops disbanded—Friendly intercourse with our men—Castle Sarazin—Our men prefer the ground for a bed, in preference to a feather one—The French sergeant—The invitation—Parade—The dinner—Farewell to the Spaniards and Portuguese—Cupid enlisting deserters—Poor Blanco—Embarkation for England—The ‘Ville de Paris’—The sergeant in hope of a wife—Arrival at Portsmouth—The sergeant in search of a wife—Their meeting and parting.
A few days after we had to execute our old manœuvre of allowing the French no time to rest, as we were put in motion after them. On the second day as we halted on the Paris road, our men reposing from the fatigue of the morning’s march, we heard several loud huzzas in our front. This was followed by the appearance of a carriage and four horses, which contained a French officer, who we afterwards understood was Marshal Soult. The carriage was attended by a detachment of English and French cavalry; the shouting arose from the tidings that were joyfully repeated, that peace was proclaimed, and that Bonaparte had retired to Elba.
We were immediately on this intelligence ordered to the right-about, and marched back to Toulouse. Before we had proceeded many miles we were overtaken on the road by great numbers of French soldiers who had been disbanded, or had disbanded themselves, and who now were about returning to their homes, tired enough, no doubt, like ourselves, of the war they had been engaged so long in carrying on. The good-feeling testified by many of these really fine-looking fellows to us was general, the Frenchmen in many instances sharing the fatigue in carrying our men’s knapsacks, &c.
“As for myself, upon my simple word,
I’d rather see a score of friendly fellows shaking hands,
Than all the world in arms.”
From Toulouse we marched, in a few days, to Castle Sarazin, situated on the right bank of the Garonne, between the previously-mentioned town and Bordeaux. Here we came in for most delightful quarters, being billeted in the houses, where we all had excellent beds. But it was highly amusing to see our rough, hardy fellows spurn this latter luxury—which one would have thought would have been most welcome—with contempt. From having almost constantly been exposed for the previous five or six years to have “the earth their rude bed, their canopy the sky,” with generally a stone for a pillow, our men could obtain no sleep on beds of down; and it was actually a fact, that they preferred wrapping a blanket round them and the hard floor, as a place of rest: so much for custom.