Barnard, the gallant leader of the Rifles, was shot through the breast when pressing in pursuit of the broken French, who had been driven from the Little Rhune. He fell from his horse, and it was evident that the lung was pierced, for blood and air issued from the wound, while blood ran from the fallen man's mouth. "Do you think I am dying?" asked Barnard coolly of an officer bending over him. "Did you ever see a man so wounded recover?" He was told there were cases of recovery from such a wound. "Then," said Barnard, "if any man can recover, I know that I shall." And he did, his resolve not to die materially helping him to survive. For so much does a cool and strong will count!
Kincaid's account of Toulouse is singularly brief. The Rifles were placed so as to connect Picton's left with the Spaniards under Freire, who were to attack the shoulder of Mont Rave. Thus Kincaid was able to watch, and afterwards describe, the memorable rout of the Spaniards, which forms the most picturesque feature of the battle. The Rifles themselves were engaged in a sharp musketry fire with the convent, and as they advanced a great open sewer had to be crossed and held. The Rifles, according to the regimental record, suffered more from the odours of the sewer than from the bullets of the French:—
"We crossed the river, and advanced sufficiently near to the enemy's position to be just out of reach of their fire, where we waited until dispositions were made for the attack.
"On our side of the river the Spanish army, which had never hitherto taken an active part in any of our general actions, now claimed the post of honour, and advanced to storm the strongest part of the heights. Our division was ordered to support them in the low grounds, and at the same time to threaten a point of the canal; and Picton, who was on our right, was ordered to make a false attack on the canal. These were all that were visible to us. The remaining divisions of the army were in continuation to the left.
"The Spaniards, anxious to monopolise all the glory, I rather think, moved on to the attack a little too soon, and before the British divisions on their left were in readiness to co-operate. However, be that as it may, they were soon in a blaze of fire, and began walking through it at first with a great show of gallantry and determination; but their courage was not altogether screwed up to the sticking-point, and the nearer they came to the critical pass the less prepared they seemed to meet it, until they all finally faced to the right-about, and came back upon us as fast as their heels could carry them, pursued by the enemy.
"We instantly advanced to their relief, and concluded that they would have rallied behind us, but they had no idea of doing anything of the kind, for when with Cuesta and some of the other Spanish generals they had been accustomed, under such circumstances, to run a hundred miles at a time; so that, passing through the intervals of our division, they went clear off to the rear, and we never saw them more. The moment the French found us interpose between them and the Spaniards they retired within their works.
"The only remark that Lord Wellington was said to have made on their conduct, after waiting to see whether they would stand after they got out of the reach of the enemy's shot, was, 'Well, d—— me, if ever I saw ten thousand men run a race before!' However, notwithstanding their disaster, many of their officers certainly evinced great bravery, and on their account it is to be regretted that the attack was made so soon, for they would otherwise have carried their point with little loss, either of life or credit, as the British divisions on the left soon after stormed and carried all the other works, and obliged those who had been opposed to the Spaniards to evacuate theirs without firing another shot.
"When the enemy were driven from the heights, they retired within the town, and the canal then became their line of defence, which they maintained the whole of the next day; but in the course of the following night they left the town altogether, and we took possession of it on the morning of the 12th.
"The inhabitants of Toulouse hoisted the white flag, and declared for the Bourbons the moment that the French army had left it; and, in the course of the same day, Colonel Cooke arrived from Paris with the extraordinary news of Napoleon's abdication. Soult has been accused of having been in possession of that fact prior to the battle of Toulouse; but, to disprove such an assertion, it can only be necessary to think, for a moment, whether he would not have made it public the day after the battle, while he yet held possession of the town, as it would not only have enabled him to keep it, but, to those who knew no better, it might have given him a shadow of claim to the victory, if he chose to avail himself of it—and I have known a victory claimed by a French marshal on more slender grounds. In place of knowing it then, he did not even believe it now; and we were absolutely obliged to follow him a day's march beyond Toulouse before class="drop"he agreed to an armistice."
THE IMMINENT DEADLY BREACH
Of the three great and memorable sieges of the Peninsula—Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajos, and San Sebastian—Kincaid took part in the first two, and has left a curiously interesting account of his experiences in them. Wellington's capture of Ciudad Rodrigo was a very swift and dazzling stroke of war. The place was a great frontier fortress; it held vast magazines of warlike material. While in French hands it barred Wellington's advance into Spain. If captured, it would furnish a secure base for such an advance.
Marmont and Soult, each in command of an army stronger than that under Wellington, kept watch over the great fortress. To pluck it from their very hands would have been judged beforehand an impossible thing. Yet Wellington did it! He achieved the feat by a combination of secrecy, audacity, and speed rarely excelled in war. He hid his preparations beneath a veil of profoundest silence and mystery. Then, when his foes had been thrown completely off their guard, he leaped on the doomed fortress; and almost before the thunder of his guns had reached the ears of Soult and of Marmont the fortress was lost! Wellington had everything against him. His supplies were scanty, his siege train miserable. The weather was bitter, and rains incessant, the ground rocky. Yet the siege never faltered nor paused. Wellington broke ground on January 8; he stormed the city on January 19. Never was a great warlike operation conceived more subtly, or executed with greater fire and swiftness.
Kincaid has a special right to tell the tale of this siege. He shared in the hardships of the trenches, and led the storming party at one of the breaches.