Flank movement to the right—Method of feeding cattle in Gascony—Catching a goose—Halt at St. Simon—Cross the Garonne and advance on Toulouse—The French take up a position to the east of that town—The Spaniards attack the heights of La Pugade—Their terrible slaughter and precipitate retreat—The enemy advance against the fourth and sixth divisions—The sixth division carry the front of the enemy's position—Retreat of the French from Toulouse towards Carcassonne.

In the middle of the night we were aroused and ordered to pack up and accoutre, and make a flank march to the right, over execrable roads, in order to support the second division, who were to cross the river Garonne above Toulouse, at the village of Portet. The number of pontoons, however, proving inadequate to cover the width of the river, it was tried elsewhere—On the 31st of March the pontoons were laid down within a short distance of Roques, General Hill crossed: but the ground was found so swampy, that he was obliged to repass the river.

In this part of the country, wine abounded to such an extent, that serious alarm was experienced for the morals and sobriety of the troops. Almost every shed, and even the stables, were half filled with wine casks, (owing to the long war, and to the want of exportation), and, during the rainy weather, it was necessary to beg of the soldiers to be moderate. Publicly they were not permitted to partake of the wine; but how could they be effectually hindered from broaching casks under which they slept, after being covered with the mud of the miry roads, or soaked through and through from incessant rains? and such was the abundance of the juice of the grape, that a peasant was glad to sell a hogshead of the best wine for twenty francs, which was divided among our several small messes.

The people of Gascony have a particular method of feeding their cattle: the trap doors or sliding partitions communicate with the interior of the kitchens, and when thrown aside, the oxen or cows thrust in their heads, and are fed by the hand with the stalks of maize, or Indian corn.

One evening, while in the kitchen of a small house, round the cheerful blaze of a crackling wood-fire, partaking of our dinner, and the servant girls standing behind us feeding the cattle, we were suddenly aroused by the cackling of the poultry in a large out-house—where the soldiers were quartered; and, on ascending the ladder, we observed some feathers scattered about the floor. The soldiers stood up and saluted, as if no depredations had been committed. One soldier alone remained sitting, and feigning to be in great pain from the effects of a sore foot. The officer with me having shrewd suspicions of this individual, said, "Get up,—surely you can stand upon one leg."—"Oh no!" answered this piece of innocence, (possessing a muscular frame, and a face as brown as a berry), "no indeed Sir, I cannot; for, besides the pain in my foot, I am otherwise much indisposed." Finding however that we were determined, he slowly and reluctantly arose from his crouching posture, by which he had concealed a half-plucked goose. This was death by martial law, and we put on a most ferocious aspect, and threatened I know not what. However, as soon as the lecture was over, and we were out of the soldier's sight, we could no longer refrain from giving way to our hilarity, at the old marauder being so fully detected. Who could kill an old soldier for plucking a goose? The bird being duly paid for, the kind-hearted woman not only gave it back to the soldiers, but, we understood, cooked it for their supper.

We now halted at St. Simon and pushed our advanced posts within two miles of Toulouse, situated on the right bank of the Garonne; but the enemy still held the Faubourg of St. Ciprien, facing us on the left of the river.

One day we passed in a handsome chateau, with all the rooms on the parterre; it was well furnished, and the doors and windows opened on a spacious lawn, from which descended a flight of stone steps of about thirty feet in breadth, to an extensive garden laid out À l'Anglaise, in broad and serpentine walks, labyrinths, fish ponds, fruit trees, exotics, rose trees and flower beds, which in the summer must altogether have formed a lovely retreat. The inhabitants had fled from the chateau, and all its windows, and doors, were flapping, and jarring in the wind; the knapsacks were suspended in the gilded ornaments of its mirrors, and the soldiers reposed on the silken covering of the chairs and couches.

On the night of the 3rd of April, our division broke up from before Toulouse, (the second division taking our station), crossed the river Touch and marched northerly down the Garonne, as a corps of communication between the right and left wings of the army—in readiness to move to either flank.

On the morning of the 4th the left wing under Lord Beresford crossed the Garonne, just above the town of Grenade, by a pontoon-bridge.

In the afternoon the rain came down in torrents, and the river was so swollen and the current so strong, that the pontoon-bridge was obliged to be taken up, and Lord Beresford was cut off with his corps for four days on the right bank of the river, while the enemy had the opportunity of attacking him, or debouching by the Faubourg de St. Ciprien against him—of which they did not take advantage.

During these few days we obtained good shelter in the fine large farm-houses with which the country abounded, every one of them having a large round pigeon-house at the corner, (which was entered by a regular door from the interior of the house); the swarms of pigeons were so great, that they literally covered the whole face of the country. Here we ate pigeon-pie, omelets, and eggs in profusion. "Diable," said the French, "comme les Anglais mangent des oeufs!"

On the 8th the bridge of boats being restored, we mounted our horses to see a Spanish army cross; and a more bombastical display I never beheld! The Spaniards crossed by companies: at the head of each marched an officer with a drawn sword, (accompanied by a drummer), and strutting in time to the tapping or roll of the drum; exclaiming, while looking pompously over his shoulder, "Vamos, guerrÉros!" The very bridge seemed to respond to such glorious appeals, for it rose and fell with a gentle undulating motion, to the rub dub, rub a dub, of Spain's martial drum.

As soon as these GuerrÉros had formed column on the sod of Languedoc, a heavy brigade of artillery passed the bridge, and one of the cannon becoming stationary in the middle of it, one of the pontoons nearly went under water; and, had not the drivers whipped and spurred with all their might, in another instant, the boat would have been swamped, and the gun would have dragged the horses and drivers into the rapid and furious torrent.

The bridge was again taken up during the night, and, on the following day, our division formed on a rising ground near Aussonne to be in readiness to pass it; but, having waited nearly the whole day, the Duke of Wellington quitted the spot extremely angry, leaving Sir Colin Campbell to superintend the finishing of it.

At two o'clock on the morning of the 10th, our division crossed the pontoon-bridge, and, bringing up our left shoulder near Fenoulhiet, six miles from Toulouse the army marched in parallel columns on that place.

The country north of the town is flat, and on every side intersected with rural cottages, enclosed by gardens, fruit trees, and small plains, or fields of corn.

When within two miles of Toulouse, we could distinguish the black columns of the enemy filing out of the town to the eastward, and forming in order of battle on the Terre de Cabade, which was crowned with redoubts, and constituted the apex of their grand position nearly three miles long, and extending in a southerly direction by Calvinet, towards the road of Montauban. They also occupied with a small body of troops and two pieces of light artillery, the detached eminence of la Borde de La Pugade, for the purpose of watching the movements on the left and centre of our army. This small hill was of fallow ground, without hedges, trees, or entrenchments.

At the first view, the French army seemed to be formed from the right bank of the Garonne, and resting their right flank on the detached hill of la Borde de la Pugade, which, in reality, only formed a dislocated elbow of their position. The ancient wall of the town was lined by the enemy, being covered at a short distance by the royal canal (which communicates with the Garonne), and runs in a half circle round the north and west sides of Toulouse. Over it there were six bridges, within five miles, occupied as tÊtes-du-pont; the three to the southward being marked by the before-mentioned heights, which gave the enemy an exceedingly strong position, and to embrace which it was necessary to split our army into three distinct bodies, to be ready to fight independently of each other—as follows:—

Lord Hill's corps was stationed on the left bank of the Garonne (to coop up the enemy in the entrenched faubourg of St. Ciprien), but was so completely cut off from the army destined to fight the battle, owing to the river intervening, that the nearest communication with it was, at least, sixteen miles by the pontoon bridge we had crossed in the morning—although, as the bird flew, little more than two miles from the right flank of the army, composed of four divisions, and a corps of Spaniards which were destined to fight the battle. The right wing consisted of the third and light divisions, the centre of the Spaniards, and the left wing of the fourth and sixth divisions with the great bulk of the cavalry, ready to shoot forward from the village of Montblanc, to throw the enemy on two sides of a square.

At nine o'clock in the morning the forcing began on the Paris road near a large building in front of the tÊte-du-pont, in the vicinity of Graniague, by the third division with its right on the river Garonne. The left brigade of the light division branched off to the right, to make a sham attack opposite the tÊte-de-pont, near les Minimes, and to keep up the link with the third division; while the first brigade edged off to the left to support the Spaniards now moving forwards in Échelon on our left. While they were crossing a small rivulet, two of the enemy's cannon fired on them from the detached eminence of la Borde de la Pugade. As soon as the Spaniards had crossed the stream or ditch, they rapidly advanced and drove the French from their advanced post, behind which they formed in columns for the grand attack. At this time a sprinkling musketry was kept up to our right by the third division and our second brigade, while driving the enemy behind their tÊtes-du-pont.

At eleven o'clock the Spaniards moved forward single-handed, to attack the heights of la Pugade, under a heavy fire of musketry and grape shot, which thinned their ranks and galled them sadly. The ground was fallow, of a gentle ascent, without hedges or trees, so that every shot told with a fatal precision. Notwithstanding this, they closed, and kept onwards. The French position was a blaze of flashing cannon, and sparkling musketry, and the iron balls were cutting through the fallow ground, tearing up the earth and bounding wantonly through the country. The fatal moment had arrived: the Spaniards could do no more: the shouting of the French army was daggers to their hearts, and thunder to their ears, and when within fifty yards of crowning all their hopes, down went the head of their column, as if the earth had opened and swallowed them up. A deep hollow road ran parallel with the enemy's works, into which the affrighted column crowded. Terrible shelter! for at this time the enemy sprang over their entrenchments, and stood over their victims, pouring down the bullets on their devoted heads with fatal precision, so that two thousand of them fell a prey to the adversary, without destroying hardly any of their opponents; and, as if in anticipation of such a result, the enemy had constructed a battery of heavy calibre at the bridge of Montauban, which raked the road, and ploughed up the heaps of the living and the dead—the former crawling under the latter to screen themselves for a few short moments from the merciless effects of the enemy's projectiles.

The rear of the Spaniards now closed up, and, stretching their necks over the brink of the fatal gulf, they turned about and fled like chaff before the wind, amid the volume and dense clouds of rolling smoke majestically floating in the air, as if to veil from the enemy the great extent of their triumph.

As soon as the fugitives could be scraped together in a lump, they once again moved forward to make a second attack, led on by a group of Spanish officers, on foot, and on horseback. The shot levelled them to the earth, without any chance of success: the disorganized column once more stood in a mass on the bank of the fatal hollow road, by this means bringing all the enemy's fire to a focus; but at the sight of the mangled bodies of their dying comrades, their last sparks of courage forsook them, and they fled from the field, heedless of the exhortations of many of their officers, who showed an example worthy of their ancient renown. The French again bounded over their entrenchments, and at full run came round the left flank of the disconcerted Spaniards (at a point where the road was not so deep), and plied them with more bullets, nor ceased to follow them, until they were stopped by the fire of a brigade of guns, (supported by a regiment of English heavy dragoons), and attacked on their left flank by the rifle corps, supported by our brigade. This movement prevented them from cutting asunder and separating the two wings of our army.

The enemy, finding that they had totally defeated the Spaniards, immediately moved a body of troops to make head against the fourth and sixth divisions, and cavalry, which were now moving along the river Ers, parallel with the heights of Calvanet, before bringing up their left shoulders to attack that position; but, owing to the marshy state of the ground, the troops were much impeded on their march.

After the repulse of the Spaniards, the battle almost ceased, with the exception of an irregular musketry-fire amongst the detached houses bordering the canal. During this pause in the grand event, several of us fell asleep (under the gentle rays of an April sun), from want of rest, having been under arms all the previous day, and marching nearly the whole of the night.

How long I enjoyed this slumber I cannot say, for a round shot whizzing, close over my head, caused me hastily to start on my feet. For a few seconds, I almost fancied I was at a review, or dreaming of it, for the right wing of the British army were within less than cannon range opposite the left wing of the enemy, whose bright arms and brazen eagles glistened on the venerable towers of Toulouse.

Soon after this, we descried an officer of our regiment, (who was an extra aide-de-camp to Gen. Baron Alten) riding at the base of the enemy's position, and turning and twisting his horse at full speed, which induced us to imagine that he was wounded, and no longer able to manage the animal, which appeared to be running away with him. Suddenly he fell from his saddle to the ground, and the horse made a dead stop. Of course we thought he was killed, when, to our great surprise, he remounted, and came towards us at a canter with a hare in his arms, that he had ridden down.

In the middle of the day, the sixth division crossed the valley opposite the heights of Calvanet; and the interchanged cannon shots, and the forked musketry, rattled without intermission. At length, amid charges of cavalry and sanguinary fighting (for the enemy marched down the hill to meet them,) this division gained the French position, and took a redoubt, which, however, they could hardly maintain, owing to the great loss they had sustained in moving up the hill; for, while struggling with the enemy's infantry in front, their second line had been charged by the French horse²⁴.

During this part of the combat the fourth division was edging off by an oblique march to its left, to turn the enemy's right flank near the road of Montauban, which manoeuvre greatly enhanced the victory on this hard-fought day.

The French several times returned to the charge on the plateau, and made a most desperate attempt at four o'clock in the afternoon to retake the great redoubt in the centre, but without effect.

Owing to this failure the French quietly evacuated the redoubts on the left of their position on the canal, on the heights of Terre Cabade, and their whole army retired behind the tÊtes-du-pont, and the faubourg of St. Etienne.

On the following day the Duke of Dalmatia held the town hemmed in almost on every side; but, as there was not any firing, an officer and myself rode towards the road where the Spaniards had been repulsed. Its steep banks were at least twenty-five feet in depth, with two or three narrow pathways by which the Spaniards had descended in hopes of obtaining a little shelter. This spot was strewed with heaps of the slain, piled on the top of each other in strange confusion, many having tumbled over the precipitous banks, and remaining stuck on the twisted bayonets on whose points they had fallen. Death here appeared in every possible shape; some were jammed in the crowd, and propped up in an erect posture against the bank; others were standing on their heads, or sprawling with legs and arms spread out to their fullest extent. Almost the whole of the cadaverous dead were without caps, which in the mÊlÉe had been knocked off, and were intermixed with knapsacks, breast-plates, broken arms, bayonets, and swords. A mournful silence reigned around. No voice broke on the stillness that reigned over the lacerated remains of the swarthy Spaniards!

While looking down on these inanimate objects swept off by the scythe of war, I noticed a naked man lying on his back at my feet: as there was no appearance of any wound about his person, we were lost in conjectures as to the probable cause of his death. A Spaniard who stood by was so overcome with curiosity, that he laid hold of the dead man's hair; but, to his inexpressible wonder the head was as light as a feather, for it now appeared, that a cannon ball had struck him sideways, leaving nothing of the head remaining but the scalp and face. The sight was too horrible to look upon, and we hastily remounted our horses, and returned from this melancholy spectacle. While riding over the field of battle, the motion of a horse is the most gentle and easy to be fancied: the animals cock their ears, snort, look down, and plant their feet with a light and springing motion, as if fearful of trampling on the dead soldiers.

The heights of the Terre Cabade and Calvanet are free from trees or hedges, and have two hollow roads cutting through the middle of them, which protected the French from our cavalry. The banks of these roads are so steep, and at the same time so imperceptible, that a whole brigade of dragoons at a canter might be swallowed up without any previous warning. Many dead horses lay in this hollow way, with their lifeless riders thrown to a distance, maimed, bruised, or with broken limbs.

The ascent in front of this position is very steep, but southerly; where the fourth division attacked, it is of a gentle acclivity.

The bodies of the soldiers of the sixth division lay very thick, in front of the heights of Calvanet, and also round a fort of the maison des Augustins. Here the Highlanders and English soldiers were intermixed with the French. The town of Toulouse lay nearly within point blank range on the west of these heights, from whence we could see the enemy's columns under arms at the tÊtes-du-pont which protected the various bridges across the canal. They were in a manner besieged in the town, as the only road left open to them was by a narrow strip of land south of Toulouse, between the canal and the river Garonne.

On the night of the 11th the enemy retreated towards Carcassone, taking the road by St. Aigne, Montgiscard, Baziege, and Ville-franche, to Castelnaudary.

END OF THE

MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN COOKE.