Chapter XX

Battle of Toulouse. The French retreat to Carcassone. The allied army
enters Toulouse. Despatches reach Lord Wellington from Paris
relative to Bonaparte’s abdication, and his departure for Elba. He
transmits this information to Soult, who declines a cessation of
hostilities. We march from Toulouse towards Carcassone. Count Gazan
meets us with a flag of truce. Soult acknowledges the new order of
things. Hostilities cease. The dismay of fire-eaters at the
termination of the war in the Peninsula and south of France. Sortie
of the French garrison from Bayonne. Some regiments embark at
Bourdeaux for America. Five weeks at Castel Sarrazin. Soult’s army
reviewed at Montauban by the Duke d’Angoulême. We march to
Bourdeaux. Take leave of our Portuguese allies. The parting. Arrive
at Bourdeaux. Lord Wellington reviews the 43d, 52d, and 95th
regiments. We embark for England.

BATTLE OF TOULOUSE.

By the morning of the 10th of April, the 3d, 4th, 6th, and Light Divisions, with the cavalry, were across the river; and Sir Rowland Hill’s corps remained on the left bank, having closed near the suburbs. Lord Wellington immediately arranged matters for attacking the enemy, who was in a position on the heights above the city, covered with redoubts and different field fortifications, which had been constructed under the directions of General Cafarelli, an engineer of talent. The different entrances to the town were defended by artillery, and the head of the bridge, opposite to which Sir Rowland Hill’s troops were stationed, had been rendered formidable also. The approach to the heights was, in most parts, a _glacis_, which, as it afforded no protection to the assailants, exposed them to a deadly fire.

Sir Thomas Picton’s division occupied the ground from the Garonne to the great road leading from Bourdeaux into Toulouse. The Light Division covered the ground from the left of General Picton nearly to the base of the French position. On our left again were the Spaniards; and considerably further to their left was Marshal Beresford, with the 4th and 6th Divisions. Sir Rowland Hill threatened the city from the opposite side of the Garonne. The cavalry, I believe, supported Marshal Beresford’s column.

The outline of the plan of attack was something like the following. The 3d and Light Divisions were to throw light troops along the canal, and by a constant fire to attract the enemy’s attention on that point, and to threaten the entrance by the great road. The Spaniards were to attack the heights in conjunction with the 4th and 6th Divisions; but being nationally and by constitution obstinate and self-opiniated, they thought proper to ascend the heights long before Marshal Beresford’s column had made a sufficient _détour_ to enable it to attack the French right. The consequence was, that the Spaniards were driven back with great slaughter, and probably would not have halted until this time, if the Light Division had not advanced in line to cover their retreat, and enabled them to form behind it.

The 4th and 6th Divisions had now arrived at their destination, and with a bravery and resolution which was never surpassed, stormed and carried redoubt after redoubt, and finally drove the French with great slaughter from the heights into Toulouse. The loss sustained by the troops which stormed the heights was extremely severe.

The high ground looking into Toulouse was now entirely in our possession; and from it Lord Wellington had the power of making it too hot a position for the French army, if he had thought proper to use his artillery. Motives of humanity towards the citizens prevented his taking such measures. Both armies suffered severely in this bloody contest. The loss of the allies has been rated at nearly five thousand men, and that of the French (who lost several general officers) is stated to have been as great. Not a shot was fired on the following day; and in the night of the 11th Marshal Soult retired on the road leading to Carcassone.

The allied army entered Toulouse on the 12th (except the 4th and 6th Divisions, which were on the road by which the French had retreated), and was received with the greatest apparent joy. White cockades were in every hat, and white flags displayed from every house.

The same day despatches reached Lord Wellington from Paris, announcing the abdication of Bonaparte, and his being about to repair to Elba. A flag of truce was sent to Marshal Soult from the British head-quarters, to apprise him of the fact; but, as no official communication to that effect had reached him direct from the provisional government at Paris, he declined overtures for an armistice. In consequence of this, the allied troops left Toulouse on the 17th, and proceeded in the direction of Carcassone, where the French army was concentrated.

General Count Gazan, the chief of Soult’s staff, met us with a flag of truce near Baziege; the purport of his mission being to inform Lord Wellington that Bonaparte’s abdication had at length been officially notified to Marshal Soult, who was ready to conclude an armistice, and to appoint persons to fix on a line of demarcation between the French and allied armies. Thus we at length witnessed the termination of the war which had so long been waged in Spain, Portugal, and the South of France.

I believe it is common to human nature to forget hardships, privations, and fatigues, of however long continuance, soon after they have ceased, and are succeeded by the common comforts of life. This may account, in some measure, for the assertions which I have heard made by a few zealots and fire-eaters, who, long after the termination of the war in the Peninsula (and not until then), have declared that they were quite inconsolable when the armistice was concluded, and the prospect of no longer being targets for French bullets stared them in the face. But at the moment when hostilities ceased between the armies of France and England, I do maintain that the general and universal feeling was (amongst those, at least, who had been participators in the whole of the war in the Peninsula, from the summer of 1808 to the spring of 1814), that for the present we had had enough of campaigning, and that a little rest and time to refit would be desirable.

A few days after the battle of Toulouse, the French garrison made a sortie from Bayonne at night, and vigorously attacked the blockading army. There was a great deal of bloodshed on both sides; and Sir John Hope was made prisoner. It has been asserted that the French governor in Bayonne was well aware that Bonaparte had abdicated, and that hostilities had ceased between the French and allied armies. If this be true, hanging would be far too honourable a death for the man who could wantonly sacrifice so many brave soldiers, without any possible good to his country.

The war between America and Great Britain was still in progress; and no sooner had we done with fighting in Europe, than daily reports were in circulation of various regiments being about to embark at Bourdeaux for the western world. Many regiments did embark at that port for America, a few weeks after hostilities ceased in France; but our regiment did not receive orders to proceed across the Atlantic until a later period.

In the latter end of April the army was cantoned on both banks of the Garonne; the river Tarn being the line of demarcation between us and the French. The Light Division occupied Montech, Grizolles, Castel Sarrazin, and other towns. In the latter place the 52d regiment and our battalion were quartered; and we spent five or six weeks very pleasantly, receiving the greatest kindness and hospitality from the inhabitants. Dances, fêtes champêtres on the banks of the Garonne, horse-races, and various gaieties, filled up our time; and great regret was expressed when the order arrived which obliged us to leave our new French acquaintance; some of the fair females of whom had ruined the peace of mind (_pro tempore_) of many of our gallant gay Lotharios. I went from Castel Sarrazin one morning to Montauban, to see the army of Marshal Soult, and a part of Marshal Suchet’s, reviewed by the Duke d’Angoulême. The troops were drawn out in several lines, waiting the arrival of the duke; and I had an excellent opportunity of inspecting that very army which we had so often met in the Peninsula. Their general appearance was fine and soldierlike. The Spanish sun had left its mark on their countenances, which were for the most part lively and animated, without the smallest appearance of despondency or disappointment at the late change, or at the loss of their imperial master. Marshal Soult alone appeared sullen and dejected. But this possibly was his natural manner. Marshal Suchet, who sat on horseback on the duke’s left hand, laughed and joked, and had every appearance of being perfectly satisfied.

On the 1st of June we bade adieu, with infinite regret, to our kind friends at Castel Sarrazin, and marched towards Bourdeaux.

On the 11th we arrived at Bazas, a small town on the left bank of the Garonne, where the Portuguese troops were to take farewell of their British allies, and to return through Spain to their own country. The 1st and 3d Caçadores had now served in the Light Division four years, and participated in its various successes. Many of the officers of the two corps were consequently known to us, and the best understanding existed between their soldiers and ours. There was a great deal of shaking of hands, accompanied by many _vivas_; and the parting was altogether affecting. At this place, also, the Portuguese and Spanish followers, both male and female, were doomed to take their departure from the British army. There was much weeping and wailing on the part of the signoras.

We reached Bourdeaux on the 14th of June, and encamped a few miles from the city. Lord Wellington took a last look, near the suburbs of Bourdeaux, at the British regiments of the Light Division, which were about to embark and to be dispersed. He departed amidst loud cheers of men and officers, many of whom had followed him through seven successive, and, I may add, successful campaigns in the Peninsula and the south of France. The cavalry marched from Bourdeaux to Boulogne and Calais, where they embarked for England; and the infantry waited at Bourdeaux for shipping to take them to England, Ireland, or America, as their destinations happened to be. Bourdeaux was thronged with British officers and soldiers, not in gay or flashy costumes, but in remnants of what had once been so.

After several weeks spent in this delightful town, the 1st and 2d battalions of our corps embarked on board the Ville de Paris of 110 or 120 guns; and, after a ten days’ voyage from the mouth of the Garonne, anchored at Spithead on the 22d of July, 1814. Nothing could exceed the kind attention of the officers of the Ville de Paris towards us; and I never passed ten days at sea so pleasantly. We marched from Portsmouth into Kent, and both the battalions wintered at Dover.