In the first affair they had about four killed and eighteen wounded. We were at first without orders as to staying here and unpacking, but a report soon reached us that the French would not stand, and were off. So we all unpacked quietly before the firing ceased, and prepared for dinner in this town, where five hundred French cavalry had passed the night, and had only departed about eight in the morning, with the curses of the inhabitants. Our Portuguese were principally engaged, it is said, yesterday, and without much loss. The sixth division entered Vic last night.
Maubourguet, 7 o’clock, 20th, Sunday.—No orders last night. Lord Wellington very late home; but I have just learned that we are to move to-day to Tarbes, taking it for granted that the French will be out to make room for us. This is very strange, and so is the confidence of our men. When we halted yesterday the bâtmen were saying, when within three miles of this place, the head-quarters, “We must only wait a little till the troops have cleared our quarters for us and made room.”
I now cannot understand Soult’s plans. He seems to be making for the mountains, and to have suffered us in some measure to cut him off from Toulouse. Colonel Canning arrived last night from Bordeaux with an account of a grand defeat of Bonaparte, and that he had fallen back on Orleans. This I expected if he were not killed, as I concluded he would try and unite with the Lyons army and Soult’s, and make one more stand in the heart of the kingdom. If this be true, Lord Wellington must be careful as to passing the Garonne; Soult’s junction, nevertheless, will at any rate be doubtful. Our men are in the highest spirits, and driving all before them; weather fine.
Tournay, March 21st.—At nine left Maubourguet; about four miles further I stopped at Vic Bigorre, to see poor Colonel Sturgeon’s body. He was a very clever man and officer, and particularly skilful as a bridge engineer, and in all languages. He went too close to the skirmishers, to reconnoitre, and was shot in the head just under the eye. I also went over the hospital, to assist Dr. M’Gregor in giving directions to the French as to arrangements, to talk to and satisfy some wounded French officers, and to get bedding, straw, and help from the maire by requisition instantly. We had about two hundred wounded there of all nations, many Portuguese, one of whom was undergoing the operation of amputation of his leg and thigh, very high up, and seemed in great agony. The French surgeon thought that Dr. M’Gregor was finding fault, and stopped, and turned to us to explain. I understand he was doing it in a clumsy way, but Dr. M’Gregor begged me to praise him highly, or he would be alarmed and do it still worse. Close to Vic, by the road-side, were about a dozen bodies of men killed by cannon-shot, and terribly mauled.
Having loaded a mule with oats from a French store at Vic, I proceeded towards Tournay. The road was crammed, and some sharp skirmishing going on about three miles beyond the town, which had commenced on the Vic side. The French only left the town about nine o’clock, and tried to blow up the bridge, but were stopped by two or three gun-shots. They stood their ground tolerably, on a very strong ridge of hills, until night, and remained en bivouac on them last night. At three this morning they were off; and here we are after them again, about nine miles on the road to Toulouse, at this place, Tournay, which was last night Marshal Soult’s head-quarters.
Tarbes is a good town and contains a number of good houses. From the houses being large, and having yards and gardens, and from there being one or two large open spaces or squares, it covers a good deal of ground, but does not count, I understand, above ten or eleven thousand inhabitants. The people received us in general very well, but were quite passive, taking no part in any way. They had been kept quite in ignorance of all that was going on in the north, and at Bordeaux in particular—at least a great part of them. I explained, and harangued all I could in order to set them right. My own patron was, it struck me, a strong Bonapartist, and I took some pains to plague him a little accordingly. We have had no sort of interruption to-day, except from the multitudes passing, which form a continued stream, from five in the morning, along a wide road, until about four or five in the day. The fine weather has unfortunately turned to rain, but I hope will return to us again.
You will see by the map that Soult has taken to the Toulouse road at last. He is at Mont St. Jean to-day, it is said; and that, as usual, when inclined to run, the French beat our people in marching, and we cannot cut him off. He has run some risks by going this roundabout road; and had we been strong enough to have pushed along the Auch road also, we should have puzzled him a little. We shall now, most probably, drive him gradually to the Garonne. It is likely, in my opinion, that he will make another stand. I have been turned out of my stable, and had much trouble with the maire, so have only time to seal up.
P.S. The country, from Maubourguet to Vic, Tarbes, and part of the way here, was all a flat, of rich country, like the country between Bridgewater and across into Somersetshire; except that half the meadows at least were vineyards and orchards in one, and interlaced very prettily; the fruit-trees kept small, about ten feet high, and the vines trained off at about six, and all intertwined and furled together with withy-bands. This was famous cover, as no musquet-ball could pass far through the trees; a few common shot had destroyed the quincunx regularity in many places. The water meadows were very beautiful, and the system seemed to be understood and well managed; the streams beautifully clear. The background of this large flat was all the way to the Haute Pyrenees covered with snow; but the higher Pic du Midi was never visible, always in the clouds; the lower one was. The Alps are far superior, as far as I can judge. Adieu.
Nine o’clock at night, Isle en Dodon, March 24th, 1814.—Our post and movements are now so uncertain and sudden, that I know not when or how to write to you, and fear that my last was sent too late, and may probably be sent with this, by which means all the zest of late news from the army will be lost. I have just heard, by accident, that a mail will go to-night, and have only time to scribble a few hasty lines immediately after dinner. My last finished at Tournay; thence we proceeded the next day to Galan, a poor village, and rather a wild mountain road, the short cut to Toulouse. Our second division and cavalry followed the enemy along the high road by Lannernezon, Mont St. Jean, and St. Gaudens. One corps of their army went also through Galan. The maire of the latter was a fine old man of eighty-two, and a good friend.
I was at a miserable half-furnished house, and my baggage being stopped by the Spanish troops, it did not arrive until seven o’clock; luckily it came in time for me to dress, in order to dine with Lord Wellington, a mile off, in the rain. The maire had been an hour in the room with Lord Wellington before he found him out, talking by the fire in his quarter, until at last Lord Wellington, having let him go on some time, asked him to dinner. This staggered him, and led to an explanation. The maire said, that the night before he had had Generals Clausel and Harispe, and that they only ordered a dinner to be prepared, and did not ask him to eat part of his own, or thank him, or take the least notice of him. He could not, therefore, believe that Lord Wellington was the enemy’s General, after having been so treated, as he said, “like a dog,” by his friends.