THE HILLSIDE AT TOULOUSE
Anton attempts a more ambitious account of the battle of Toulouse than of any other fight in which he was engaged; and there is some reason for this. It was a cluster of Scottish regiments—the 42nd conspicuous amongst them—which, by mere invincible and all-enduring valour, saved Wellington from failure in that great fight. Soult, it will be remembered, knew Toulouse almost with the familiarity of a native. A strong place by nature, he had made it almost impregnable by the energy and skill with which he had multiplied its defences during the long pause before the British advanced.
Wellington delivered his attack at three points. Hill assailed the west front of the city; Picton the north; Beresford the east. The first two attacks were, perhaps, not seriously meant, and certainly failed. Freire, with his Spaniards, whose task it was to carry the northern shoulder of Mont Rave, fell on gallantly, but was smitten into utter rout, extorting from Wellington the grim comment, "Well, —— me, if ever I saw ten thousand men run a race before!" Beresford's task was perilous in the highest degree; to any other troops than those he led, it might well have proved impossible. He had to toil for two miles along a road which was little better than a strip of marsh, past the flank of Mont Rave, strongly held by the French. On his left was the river Ers. The road was so difficult that the guns were left behind. There was deadly peril at every step that the French might overwhelm the toiling column with a flank attack; or break through betwixt it and the main body of the British army.
But Beresford—who had fought Albuera—was exactly the man for a task which required blind and desperate valour. His men splashed doggedly on their way; on their right the foe, tormenting their flank with his fire; the fordless river to their left; their guns left behind them. When they had reached the southern extremity of the ridge, the regiments brought up their left shoulder, and proceeded to carry the hill. It was seamed with trenches, and bristled with guns. Soult, who saw that this was the one point of peril to his battle-line, had brought up two divisions to the threatened point, and the French, gallantly led, and confident in their numbers, in their advantage of position, and in their success at the other attacked points, came boldly down the hill to crush Beresford's slender and extended line.
Nothing, however—not the slippery hill-slope, the cruel fire of the French guns, nor the onfall of the solid French battalions—could stay Beresford's men. Soult's columns were smashed with rolling musketry volleys. The batteries were carried with the bayonet, and the hill was won. The 42nd played a most gallant part in this great fight, and endured dreadful losses. Anton came through it all untouched, and tells the whole story in a spirited fashion. He sees nothing, however, and describes nothing, but what takes place immediately about himself:—
"We broke up camp a little after midnight, on the morning of Easter Sunday, April 10, and marched towards Toulouse. The moon shone bright in the unclouded heavens, and reflected a stream of light from the muskets of our advanced columns, for our arms had not then received the brown varnish that now 'dims their shine.'
"General Pack's brigade was formed in contiguous columns of regiments to the left of the road leading to Toulouse. At this time the Spaniards, who were in advance and ascending the heights, were attacked with such fury that they gave way in all directions. It was apprehended that the enemy would have borne down upon us in the impetuosity of the movement, and we deployed into lines. The 79th Regiment was at this time in front of the 42nd, and General Pack, anticipating a charge from the enemy's victorious and elated infantry, after thus scattering the Spaniards, gave orders to the 79th to receive them with a volley, immediately form four deep, face about, and pass through the ranks of the 42nd. The latter received orders to form four deep, as soon as the former had given its fire; let the line pass through, then form up, give a volley, and charge. This was providing against what might have taken place, but did not, for the enemy was recalled, and the Spaniards were afterwards rallied.
"We now moved off to our left, along a green embankment, a small lake or large pond [really a flooded river] on our left, and a wet ditch and marshy meadow on the right. The shot and shell were flying over our heads into the lake, but the range was too elevated to hurt us, and we ran along the bank until we came to a place where we could leap the ditch and form on the swampy ground beyond it. We had scarcely formed, when a strong column of the enemy, with drums beating a march, descended the hill in our front, and thinking from the nature of the ground that we should be neither able to advance nor retreat, rushed down confident of success. For us to retire would have been scarcely practicable; the bank from which we had leaped down and over the ditch was too high in several places for us to leap back from such uncertain footing, for we were sinking to the ankles, and sometimes deeper at every step; to advance was the only alternative, and it was taken.
"The light companies of the division were by this time in our front, and without any hesitation dashed forward; we followed fast, and the opposing column reascended the hill, and left us the undisputed masters of the valley. We now ascended at double quick time, and the whole of the division crowned the eastern summit of the heights. Here we were exposed to a destructive fire of round shot, shell, grape, and musketry, while we had not as yet got up one gun, owing to the numerous obstructions that lay in the way. The ground we occupied sloped towards one of the main roads that run over the hill to the city, and the fields on the opposite side of the road were in possession of the enemy, and extremely broken and intersected by deep cross-roads, breastworks, and redoubts, but could, from our present position, have been commanded by artillery, had it been practicable to bring a few guns forward; but this required some time, and indefatigable labour.
"The light companies of the division advanced beyond the road, and maintained a very unequal skirmish with the enemy, who lay securely posted behind their breastworks and batteries, and in their redoubts, from all of which they took the most deadly aim. The 61st Regiment was ordered forward to support the skirmishers, and became the marked object of the enemy's batteries, from which incessant showers of grape cut down that corps by sections, while Soult was, perhaps, not losing a man, being so safely sheltered from our musketry; it was, therefore, seen necessary to withdraw the skeleton of that regiment to the road, on which we had taken post after its advance. It was now warmly welcomed back, for its retreat was no defeat, and its loss was scarcely equalled by any corps in the field. Not a subaltern left the field without a wound, and the honour of the colours was assigned to sergeants.
"The enemy, emboldened by this momentary success, on his part, began to advance towards the road, and our regiment was ordered to advance by wings and storm one of the redoubts.
"Our colonel was a brave man, but there are moments when a well-timed manœuvre is of more advantage than courage. The regiment stood on the road with its front exactly to the enemy, and if the left wing had been ordered forward, it could have sprung up the bank in line and dashed forward on the enemy at once. Instead of this, the colonel faced the right wing to its right, countermarched in rear of the left, and when the leading rank cleared the left flank it was made to file up the bank, and as soon as it made its appearance the shot, shell, and musketry poured in with deadly destruction; and in this exposed position we had to make a second countermarch, on purpose to bring our front to the enemy. These movements consumed much time, and by this unnecessary exposure exasperated the men to madness.
"The word 'Forward—double quick!' dispelled the gloom, and forward we drove, in the face of apparent destruction. The field had been lately rough ploughed or under fallow, and when a man fell he tripped the one behind, thus the ranks were opening as we approached the point whence all this hostile vengeance proceeded; but the rush forward had received an impulse from desperation, 'the spring of the men's patience had been strained until ready to snap, and when left to the freedom of its own extension, ceased not to act until the point to which it was directed was attained.' In a minute every obstacle was surmounted; the enemy fled as we leaped over the trenches and mounds like a pack of noisy hounds in pursuit, frightening them more by our wild hurrahs than actually hurting them by ball or bayonet.
"The redoubt thus obtained consisted of an old country farm cottage, the lower part of its walls stone, the upper part mud or clay. It stood in the corner of what had been a garden, having one door to a road or broad lane, and another to the garden; the whole forming a square which had been lately fortified on three sides by a deep but dry trench, from which the earth had been cast inwards, and formed a considerable bank, sloping inwards, but presenting a perpendicular face of layers of green turf outwards. The cottage served as a temporary magazine, and the mound or embankment as a cover to the enemy from the fire of our troops; and from this place our men had been dreadfully cut down.
"It cannot be for an instant supposed that all this could have been effected without very much deranging our ranks, and as the enemy had still a powerful force, and other works commanding this, time would not permit of particularity, and a brisk independent fire was kept up with more noise than good effect by our small groups upon our not yet defeated enemy. Our muskets were getting useless by the frequent discharges, and several of the men were having recourse to the French pieces that lay scattered about, but they had been as freely used as our own, and were equally unserviceable. Our number of effective hands was also decreasing, and that of the again approaching foe seemed irresistible.
"Two officers (Captain Campbell and Lieutenant Young) and about sixty of inferior rank were all that now remained without a wound of the right wing of the regiment that entered the field in the morning. The flag was hanging in tatters, and stained with the blood of those who had fallen over it. The standard cut in two, had been successively placed in the hands of three officers, who fell as we advanced; it was now borne by a sergeant, while the few remaining soldiers who rallied around it, defiled with mire, sweat, smoke, and blood, stood ready to oppose with the bayonet the advancing column, the front files of which were pouring in destructive showers of musketry among our confused ranks. To have disputed the post with such overwhelming numbers, would have been the hazarding the loss of our colours, and could serve no general interest to our army, as we stood between the front of our advancing support and the enemy; we were therefore ordered to retire. The greater number passed through the cottage, now filled with wounded and dying, and leaped from the door that was over the road into the trench of the redoubt, among the killed and wounded.
"We were now between two fires of musketry, the enemy to our left and rear, the 79th and left wing of our own regiment in our front. Fortunately, the intermediate space did not exceed a hundred paces, and our safe retreat depended upon the speed with which we could perform it. We rushed along like a crowd of boys pursuing the bounding ball to its distant limit, and in an instant plunged into a trench that had been cut across the road; the balls were whistling amongst us and over us; while those in front were struggling to get out, those behind were holding them fast for assistance, and we became firmly wedged together, until a horse without a rider came plunging down on the heads and bayonets of those in his way; they on whom he fell were drowned or smothered, and the gap thus made gave way for the rest to get out.
"The right wing of the regiment, thus broken down and in disorder, was rallied by Captain Campbell (afterwards brevet lieutenant-colonel) and the adjutant (Lieutenant Young) on a narrow road, the steep banks of which served as a cover from the showers of grape that swept over our heads.
"In this contest, besides our colonel, who was wounded as he gave the word of command, 'Forward,' the regiment lost, in killed and wounded, twenty officers, one sergeant-major, and four hundred and thirty-six of inferior rank.
"Meantime the Portuguese brigade was ordered to take possession of the evacuated redoubt, which was accomplished with little loss, for the enemy had been backward of entering, lest we might have been drawing them into an ambush, or had an intention of blowing up the cottage, in which a considerable quantity of loose cartridges had been left near a large fire by themselves when they were driven out, and most likely intended for that purpose against us, but we had removed the whole to a place of less danger.
"Thus far the left flank of our army was secured; the Spaniards, farther to the right, were making good their advances, our artillery was about getting posted on commanding eminences, while only one battery remained on the western summit in the enemy's possession, and before sunset it was stormed also, and all the heights overlooking Toulouse remained in our possession."
As soon as the fight is over Anton proceeds to mount the pulpit and deliver himself of a homily on the night-scene after a battle, which may be usefully abridged:—
"Night after battle is always glorious to the undisputed victors, and whatever the loss may have been, the idea of it seems to be banished from our thoughtless minds. Here, however, by the first early dawning of the morning, let us more seriously cast our eye over this scene of slaughter, where the blood of the commander and the commanded mix indiscriminately together over the field.
"Here lies many a gallant soldier, whose name or fame will never pass to another generation; yet the annals of our country will do justice to the general merit of the whole; from my feeble pen no lasting fame can be expected; time blots it out as I write; and even were I to attempt to pass an eulogy it might be considered contemptible from so humble an individual, by those who survive and witnessed the action.
"I trust I shall not be considered egotistical in saying that I had some narrow escapes this day; but what soldier entered the field and came safe out of it had not narrow escapes? A musket-ball struck my halberd in line with my cheek, another passed between my arm and my side, and lodged in my knapsack, another struck the handle of my sword, and a fourth passed through my bonnet and knocked it off my head; had the ball been two inches lower, or I that much higher, the reader would have been saved the trouble of perusing this narrative. The company in which I was doing duty lost four officers, three sergeants, and forty-seven rank and file, in killed and wounded. The officers were:—Lieutenant D. M'Kenzie severely wounded, Lieutenants Farquharson and Watson mortally wounded, and Ensign Latta killed.
"There was one officer of the regiment taken prisoner this day: he had lately joined us from the 1st Royals, in which he had been cadet, and had not the uniform of the regiment; but his deficiency of the uniform betrayed no lack of personal courage; the charm of the bonnet and plume, though wanting, did not make him less the soldier; he fell, wounded, near to Lieutenant Farquharson, at the side of the redoubt, as we entered it, and when we fell back he was made prisoner.
"I have already mentioned that before the regiment advanced to storm the redoubt, we were posted on the main road that passes over the heights. During the short time we were in that position we had orders not to raise our heads above the bank, nor let the enemy see where we were posted. Notwithstanding this prohibition, our sergeant-major, as brave a man as ever entered a field, was despatched from the right flank to warn those on the left to comply with this order, for several were rising up occasionally and sending a bullet at the enemy, and thus, perhaps, defeating the intention of the order. He went, but though cautioned to stoop as he proceeded, he considered this unmanly, and never did he walk with a more upright dauntless carriage of the body or a firmer step: it was his last march; a bullet pierced his brain and stretched him lifeless, without a sigh.
"There was a man of the name of Wighton in the regiment, a grumbling, discontented, disaffected sort of a character. He was one of the men attached to the tent placed under my charge on joining the regiment. Some men take all for the best; not so with Wighton, he took everything for the worst; indeed, his very countenance indicated something malignant, misanthropical, and even sottish in his disposition. He was a low, thick, squat fellow, with a dark yellowish swarthy complexion, and his broad face bore a strong resemblance to that of a Calmuc Tartar. As he rushed along the field his front-rank man exclaimed, 'God Almighty preserve us, this is dreadful!' 'You be d—d,' Wighton replied, 'you have been importuning God Almighty this half-dozen of years, and it would be no wonder although He were to knock you down at last for troubling him so often; as for myself, I do not believe there is one; if there were, He would never have brought us here!' The last word hung unfinished on his tongue; the messenger of death sealed his lips in everlasting silence.
"The contest that raged upwards of an hour around the redoubt, of which we had gained possession, was maintained without much regard to order or strict discipline; in short, it was rather tumultuary. Every man was sensible of the necessity of having order restored, but thought himself the only orderly man of all the rest, and his voice was heard over that of his commander calling out 'Form up.' In the meantime, his own attention was more engaged in keeping in the crowd, to load his piece, and afterwards pushing forward, to send a bullet to the enemy as often as he possibly could load and discharge, than attending to formation.
"A Grenadier of the 79th Regiment, for both regiments (the 42nd and 79th) were somewhat intermixed, rushed forward, discharged his piece with effect, and suddenly turning the musket so as to grasp the muzzle, dealt deadly blows around him; he fell, grasping one of the enemy in one hand, and the broken firelock in the other. Another sprung up on the top of the bank, called on his comrades to follow, and with a loud cheer, in which many joined that did not follow, he rushed forward in the same manner as his brave companion had done, and like him shared a similar fate.
"It is only in this disorganised kind of conflict that individual courage may best act and best be seen. In united, orderly movements, the whole acquires the praise; and in this each individual is comprised, and proud of contributing his part to the honour of his corps, does his duty without attempting those feats of romantic daring which ancient historians record, but which modern tactics render nugatory or almost useless. Individual daring is lost in orderly movements."