Uncertain Intelligence—Capture of Toulouse—Wellington at the
Theatre—The “Liberator”—Ball at the Prefecture—The Feelings of the
French—Soult and Suchet—Ball at the Capitole.
Head-quarters, Grenade,
April 10, 1814, 1 o’clock.
MY DEAR M——,
Here we are still, away from all that is going on, but expecting every
moment an order to enter Toulouse. The day before yesterday the bridge
was re-established (the 8th), and by one o’clock the Spaniards had all
passed over. The order then came for a brigade of Portuguese artillery
to do the same. They were passing when I went there, soon after one
o’clock; and just as a gun was quitting the last boat to ascend the
bank, down went the boat; the gun, however, run off safe, but two of
the Portuguese pontoon-train sailors got a ducking, which was all the
mischief except a delay of about two hours to fish up the pontoon, drag
it on shore, turn it upside down, to clear out the water, and then
launch it again, and refit the board.
By four o’clock I left the remainder of the guns going over. The
head-quarters of Lord Wellington remained at St. Jouy that night, and
last night Lord Wellington has only pushed the troops on a little,
to reconnoitre, and in the evening the 18th Hussars, under Colonel
Vivian, had a brilliant affair. They charged the French cavalry on
the high-road, broke them, sabred several, and took about seventy
prisoners, with the loss of a few officers wounded, and, it is
believed, only about six or eight men. Unluckily, Colonel Vivian
received a ball in the arm, which, it is feared, will render amputation
necessary. Yesterday (the 9th), the bridge was taken up very early,
and ordered to be immediately fixed about four miles nearer the town
of Toulouse, at a little place called Assaic. The light divisions
were close to that point, on this side of the river, as a security in
case of any attack on the second division, near St. Cyprien and the
bridge of Toulouse. They were ordered to cross the river as soon as our
pontoons were ready, and a movement was intended, and ordered yesterday.
From some difficulties, or bad management, the bridge of boats was not
ready until nearly three o’clock, when it was thought too late. Lord
Wellington was more vexed, and in a greater state of anger, than he
usually is when things go wrong, even without any good cause. He said
that his whole plans for the day were frustrated and nothing could be
done; and the light divisions were counter-ordered to remain where they
were on this side the river, and head-quarters remained at St. Jouy.
The French, it appeared, while still keeping a force to defend the
bridge of Toulouse, had before this taken a strong position on the
hills beyond the town, and had made there some strong works, upon
which they were constantly busy. The last two days and nights their
main body rested on the hills, bivouacking in this position, and in an
uncomfortable state, hourly expecting an attack. This morning about
seven it commenced: the firing was heavy for about two hours, until
nine, and has continued partially since. As I dare not cross the river
and go to the front, I went with my glass to the highest look-out here,
and saw the French redoubt very plainly, firing away briskly: since
that all has been silent here, and free from smoke. The stories of the
people here are that, with the loss of six thousand men, we have taken
the redoubt and thirty-six pieces of ordnance.
The former, from the direction of the fire, it is certain, is a
lie, and perhaps the latter. As, however, we have now some sort of
official news that the Allies are in Paris, and the Imperial Court at
Orleans, and as there is no account of Bonaparte, the French here will
probably not fight much; and if beaten, it is certain that many, nay
thousands, will run home, and the army be much diminished. I suspect
that Bonaparte will try to unite his corps and all the remains of corps
near Paris, and Augereau’s from Lyons, and Marshal Soult’s and Suchet’s
from Provence, towards Montpelier; but it is to be hoped that even
regiments, and perhaps Marshals, will begin to desert, when it is found
that Paris is taken, and the royal party proclaimed and gaining ground.
We certainly are in a very odd state just now in France. Our military
chest, Paymaster, Doctors, Commissaries, &c., and nearly all our
money, are in this place, which is altogether without troops; only
about a dozen staff corps men, and about ten of the paymaster’s
ordinary marching guard. The whole army is nearly four leagues in
front, and our only protection is the good-will of the people, and
the river. Yet we are told that there are French troops at Montauban,
about four leagues off, and nothing between us except the river. All
feel, notwithstanding, quite secure, and have no anxiety but to enter
Toulouse.
In the mean time Lord Dalhousie with a part of the seventh division
has crossed, not only the Gironde, but the Dordogne, and we are told,
is to take Fort Blaze by storm: I suppose his whole force is not above
three thousand five hundred men. Bayonne has not yet been seriously
attacked, nor do we hear of any very great distress in the town, which
is surprising, considering the length of the blockade.
In the attack to-day, it is said that the third and sixth divisions
were to form the right of the attack on the river, the fourth the
centre, and the light and large body of Spaniards to make the flank
movement on the left, to get on the hills and turn the French position,
whilst the cavalry advance also in that direction, to be ready to take
advantage of the enemy’s retreat.
_Five o’clock, same day._—No one returned, and no news: and yet no
firing heard, and no orders. I fear that the resistance has been
greater than was expected, and begin to be fidgety and uneasy. The
reports are now, that eight thousand English wounded, and fighting
in the streets now going on. If such complete ignorance of the truth
exists within ten miles of what is passing, you may judge how false
reports circulate: we receive contradictory rumours every hour. All
we know for certain is, that two hours ago Lord Wellington’s baggage
remained at St. Jouy without orders; I despair, therefore, of seeing
Toulouse to-day.
_Grenade, April 11th, 8 o’clock, morning._—The firing continued all day
yesterday, and until past eight at night, and began again at four this
morning, and has continued to this time, but has now lessened. Several
of our civilians returned home here last night. I understand our loss
is very considerable. We drove the enemy from all the heights, but
with difficulty. The Spaniards failed in the attack of a redoubt, were
put to the rout completely, and, it is reported, would have lost their
guns, which the French were within two or three hundred yards of, had
not the Portuguese stepped in to their support, and enabled them to
rally again.
This is really too bad—my friend says the ground was covered with dead
Spaniards, and that he saw but few French; this is generally the result
of alarm and flight. The redoubt was taken, but not by the Spaniards,
it is said; the fire close to Lord Wellington was most severe. Near
the town the French fought very hard in the houses, particularly at
some houses near the lock of the canal close to the river. We each
occupied some of the houses, and fired continually; the French houses
were loop-holed, and they had the best. We were obliged to bring guns,
&c.; and, unfortunately, the most successful shell fell into one
of our own houses, and burnt out our own people. Among the killed,
&c., I hear, is Colonel Coghlan of the 61st, an excellent officer,
Lieutenant-colonel Forbes, Captain Gordon, 10th Hussars. Colonel
Fitzclarence is wounded in the thigh: he charged with his troops two
French squadrons, he says, up a hill, beat them, but on the top was
received by infantry: the first shot carried away part of his sword,
the second hit him on the thigh, and they fell back. We were close to
the town and to the bridge last night on all sides, and had moved our
bridge up within two miles of the town. The French have barricaded the
houses and streets, fixed swivels on the tops, lined the roofs with
men, &c., and seem determined to defend the town with desperation. An
officer deserted yesterday, and says he will serve no longer under a
man who acts like a madman, as Soult now does, in defending a town like
Toulouse in such a manner.—It is madness.
Four Spanish officers came in here yesterday, who had escaped from
Italy through Switzerland, and had walked here. They seemed in great
distress. We had no Commissary here: I therefore gave them eight
pounds of bread and a dozen eggs, got them a quarter for the night,
and advised them to stay here until this morning, and then proceed to
head-quarters. One had served in Colonel Roche’s corps in Catalonia,
and spoke English tolerably. Our delay here, and in taking the town,
has alarmed the people very much. All who have relations and friends in
Toulouse are terribly frightened. The officer who deserted says that
many will do the same as soon as the business is over, and occasions
arise. Captain O. K——, the French-English officer from Toulouse, who
came over to the Duke d’Angoulême at St. Jean de Luz, arrived here
yesterday from Bordeaux. He says, that things are going on well,
especially since the news from Paris; that the Duke has now eighteen
hundred men formed; and that French officers come in every day with
fleur-de-lys embroidered on their Napoleon uniforms, and thus tender
their services. O. K—— was here on his road to Aurillac, to Auvergne,
&c., where, he says, a party is formed and ready to rise. He must take
care of his head, for he goes about talking very imprudently.
_Head-Quarters, Toulouse, April 13th, 1814, Section 3, No. 676._—To
give you any notion of what we have all felt from the changes which
the last thirty-six hours have produced, you must go back to my first
sheet, and you will feel more as I did, by reading in succession what
has occurred than by anything I can now write. I was about to destroy
the first sheet, as much of it is now not worth the trouble of reading;
but thought it would give you a better idea of the feelings, from day
to day, of the army.
An order came for civil departments to march, to cross the pontoons,
and to proceed on the high road to Toulouse to a church only three
miles from the town, and there halt and wait for orders. We were off in
ecstasies, expecting all to dine in Toulouse, and that the French were
off, and our men after them. Judge of our vexation, when, on arriving
at the church, we were all turned back off the road, to a miserable
village of about ten houses, called St. Albains; and were there to
find quarters for the night, in places just quitted by the plundering
Spaniards, and left nearly in the state in which the French left the
houses in Spain as they passed.
When we arrived, we found many of the Spaniards still in possession,
and four of us disarmed and seized three of them in the act of
plundering. The people were screaming in every direction, the houses
abandoned, and the inhabitants just beginning to return to witness the
mischief done. Everything had been ransacked—all the closets, &c.,
broken open; the rags and remnants on the floor, mixed with hundreds of
egg-shells, and the feathers of the plundered fowls, &c. Much linen was
carried off, the sheets and heavy articles in the yard; the tables were
covered with broken dishes, bottles, bones, and twine; and the cellars
with the wine-casks running. In about two hours we got possession of
the quarters, and got the inhabitants in to clean them, and by five
o’clock had divided the places among us. My whole baggage lost its
road, and did not arrive at all—five mules and a horse loaded.
You may conceive the disappointment and the vexation we experienced.
Dr. M’Gregor said that our loss was terrible! He was just returned
from collecting all the wounded in villages, and, by Lord Wellington’s
desire, was hurrying every one possible instantly to the rear. They
were passing all night in cars. The Spaniards were moaning and crying
most desperately, and were to reach Fenoullet that night, Sole
Jourdain the next, and then to be sent on further if necessary. The
accommodations were very bad. The accounts from the town were that
the French were continuing to barricade every house and loophole, and
arming to defend themselves to the last.
The army was said to be now much weakened; the Spaniards could not
be depended upon; the reinforcements were not come up from England,
and a story was going about and believed by many who ought to have
known better, that we were out of ammunition, and could not use our
artillery. You may conceive that I went (without my baggage and
comforts), with this news, sorrowfully to bed, ordering my servant to
be off at five in the morning in search of my stragglers.
On the 12th, at 6 o’clock, I was up and wandering about alone,
listening to an occasional heavy gun, seeing wounded men pass, and
waiting for the return of my man. About eight I saw Henry returning
alone, and was expecting more bad news, when he told me that the French
were off, that we were to march for Toulouse directly, and that my
baggage was all safe at a house a league off on the road; and that,
therefore, he had ordered them to pack and be off with the rest.
Think of our sensations on hearing of this welcome change! The last
twenty-four hours had been among the most critical of the war, and
now all was safe and right again. I found out the clergyman, Mr. B——,
got a razor and a cup of tea, whilst my horse was getting ready, and
was then off, to go round by head-quarters and to enter Toulouse with
Lord Wellington. About eleven I arrived at the fortified entrance, and
found, instead of the enemy behind the new works, the _maire_ of the
town, almost all the officers of the _garde urbaine_, a considerable
number of national guard officers, deserters, &c., and about two
hundred smart but awkward men of the city guard, and a band of music,
all with the white cockade, and a great crowd of citizens besides, all
waiting with anxiety to receive Lord Wellington, and carry him in form
to the mayoralty. Unluckily, from some mismanagement and mistake, he
went in at another entrance, and passed on, almost unknown. Hearing
this, I went to the mayoralty with General Packington’s aide-de-camp,
and found it was so; and, therefore, we went back to inform the mayor
officially, and to beg he would return to the _maison commune_. He
did so, though an immense crowd entered the mayoralty in form, and an
introduction then took place, and Lord Wellington showed himself at
the window, amidst the shouts and waving handkerchiefs and hats of
every one.
The procession then went with Lord Wellington to his quarters, the
Prefêt’s palace, amidst the applause of the inhabitants all the way.
Nothing could be more gratifying than his reception, and that, indeed,
of all the English; the most respectable inhabitants, many of them, not
only anxiously showing us the way to our billets, but offering their
homes without any billets, or receiving us with a sincere welcome as
soon as the paper was delivered. Lord Wellington announced a ball in
the evening at the Prefecture, and left Marshal Beresford with three
divisions and cavalry to follow Marshal Soult for the day.
We thought nothing could make us happier, when at five o’clock in
came Colonel Ponsonby from Bordeaux with the Paris news, which you
know. He told us that the official accounts would arrive in an hour or
two. Ponsonby came through Montauban: the French officer commanding
there taking his word, and letting him pass. I had been, at Colonel
Campbell’s request, examining General St. Hilaire and his servant. St.
Hilaire was found, under suspicious circumstances, in the town, and was
just put under arrest, and Campbell luckily asked me to dine with Lord
Wellington, which I should have been very sorry to have missed.
Just as we were sitting down to dinner, about forty of us, General
Frere, and several Spaniards, General Picton, and Baron Alten, the
principal French, &c., in came Cooke with the despatches. The whole was
out directly, champagne went round, and after dinner Lord Wellington
gave “Louis XVIII.,” which was very cordially received with three times
three, and white cockades were ordered for us to wear at the theatre
in the evening. In the interim, however, General Alava got up, and
with great warmth gave Lord Wellington’s health, as the _Liberador
del’ Espagna_! Every one jumped up, and there was a sort of general
exclamation from all the foreigners—French, Spanish, Portuguese,
Germans, and all—_El Liberador d’Espagna! Liberador de Portugal! Le
Liberateur de la France! Le Liberateur de l’Europe!_ And this was
followed, not by a regular three times three, but a cheering all in
confusion for nearly ten minutes! Lord Wellington bowed, confused, and
immediately called for coffee. He must have been not a little gratified
with what had passed.
We then all went to the play. The public were quite in the dark as
to what had just arrived, but Lord Wellington was received in the
stage-box (where he sat, supported by Generals Picton, Frere, and
Alava, &c., and also the _maire_) with no little applause, I assure
you. At the door the people would scarcely take the money from us;
and in the opposite stage-box the French left the box themselves, and
made room for us. We had the white cockades on the breast. The English
officers in the house stared, and did not know what to make of it.
Some thought it a foolish, giddy trick. In about ten minutes Lord
Wellington turned his hat outwards to the front of the box: it was
seen, and a shout ensued immediately. The play was “_Richard, oh mon
Roi_,” which was fixed upon really before the news came. The “_Henri
IV._” was played, and then the new French constitution was read aloud
from one of the boxes. The people most anxious, and in general pleased;
in some things not. I think most of it very good, if the French can
enjoy anything so like our own constitution, for such it is, under
other names; but this is doubtful. The article worst received was that
leaving all the sales of emigrant lands to stand good; and it does
appear to me that, when, by means of paper, an estate had been bought
for the price of a team of horses, an equitable arrangement would
have been better, to be settled by Government Commissioners. This
was followed by “God save the King,” which was received with great
applause.
When the play was over, we adjourned to the ball at Lord Wellington’s.
The only drawback was our meeting on the way the cars of the wounded
in the streets, now moving to the excellent hospitals here. This on
consideration was also a satisfaction, for many lives will be saved by
the wounded being brought here, instead of being sent to rear. You will
now guess what we felt, and what a species of trance we were in.
Here we are halted, whilst the news is sent on to Soult, with whom
Marshal Beresford could not come up. The arrival of the news was at the
moment we should have selected, except for the loss of life. For Lord
Wellington’s character, however, even that was good, and eight hours
sooner it would have been said that the late battle was no victory on
our part, and that we should never have entered Toulouse, nor would the
real sentiments of the town have been known.
On inquiry, I find that the French loss has been great. General Taupin,
one of my friends on La Rhüne, killed; General D’Armagnac, who took
me, wounded; Harispe wounded, and here a prisoner; two other Generals
wounded, &c. Our loss fell principally, you will see, on the sixth
division, and the Scotch Brigade in particular, and on the Spaniards.
With regard to the latter, it is said that, upon the whole, the men for
a long time behaved well, and that if General Frere had been as skilful
as brave, and the officers better, they probably would have succeeded
in their object, which certainly happened to be the most arduous duty
of the day. They arrived on a sort of smooth glacis below the French
works, under a fire admitted to be more severe than almost any since
Albuera. Decision and skill and rapidity were then required. The men
were kept too long in this fire—they broke—and then ran like sheep. One
French regiment, it is said, drove more than four thousand of them, and
in such a manner that they almost upset a Caçadore Portuguese regiment
by main force. Three companies of the latter stood firm, beat back
the Spaniards with their firelocks, laughed at them, enjoyed it, and
completely checked the French. The redoubt was afterwards taken by our
men, with great loss, as you will see. General Frere was in despair;
he exerted himself to the utmost to rally his men; at last, by his
exertions, assisted by Lord Wellington in person, one or two Spanish
companies were formed, and became steady. Upon this the rest soon
followed, and formed up also. The Spaniards had then a less arduous
post assigned them; all went on well again, and I believe they behaved
fairly enough. Their loss is considerable.
This morning the whole conversation of the officers turns upon half-pay
and starvation. With some, want of preferment; with others, promotion;
and with those who have promotion, a determination to enjoy themselves
now that all is over, and their dangers and sufferings past. As to my
own prospects, they are so completely in the air, that my being never
much of an architect for building in that element, I go quietly on with
my work, and trust to the future.
I shall defer any account of this place, &c., for fear of being too
late for the despatches, and now say adieu.
Pray forward the enclosed two letters, which are from Madame de Baudré,
my hostess at Mont de Marsan, who desired me to take care of them, and
enclosed them in a letter of great professions of kindness for me, only
exceeded by the most romantic ones for the Bourbons, and stating the
great losses her family and connexions have lately sustained.
_Head-Quarters, Toulouse, April 15th, 1814._—Here we are quietly
waiting the result of the communication of the late news to Marshal
Soult, &c. Cooke has come back from his head-quarters. The Marshal
hesitates a little at present. He objects that he has no authentic
documents from Bonaparte or the authorities whom he represents, and
seems to have some doubts of the extent of the late news—or pretends
to have. In short, as yet he takes no decided line, but it is said has
applied for an armistice, probably wishing to gain time, to consult
Suchet, &c., and learn more of the state of things.
Colonel Gordon was sent to him yesterday by Lord Wellington with
a flag-of-truce; and it is understood that a positive answer and
determination was required, and the armistice refused. Lord Wellington
and all the officers yesterday attended Colonel Coghlan’s funeral in
the morning, at the Temple, and went from thence in procession to the
Protestant burial-ground out of the town.
In the evening Lord Wellington gave another more magnificent ball at
the Prefecture. It was too crowded to dance much, or well, but went
off with great glee and general satisfaction. The ladies were very
prettily dressed, in general, with the exception of a few of the high
ugly bonnets, and there were several very pleasing-looking girls, and
good dancers; but I do not think that in general the women are handsome
here. I met with one very good-humoured chatty lady, about eighteen
probably, who said she had only left her “Maman,” with whom she had
always lived near Carcassonne, one month, and that, in that time she
had witnessed many strange things:—the ravages of the French army,
the passage of our army over the Garonne, a great battle (which was
all visible quite plainly from the churches here, and even from the
houses), the preparations for a siege, the retreat of the French, our
triumphal entry, the change of the national government, and her own
marriage.
Captain Tovey, of the 20th, taken at Orthes, has escaped, and came in
here yesterday. He would not give his parole, and made several attempts
to be off. In consequence he was hardly treated, but is now safe. He
met with every assistance from the French inhabitants; and at the
last house he was in, the owner made him leave his peasant’s dress,
and equipped him in a new suit, boots and all, French cut, to pass our
lines, and go to head-quarters in. The villages through which he passed
were proclaiming the King; and he was told that Soult’s house, near
Carcassonne, had been destroyed by the mob.
The French here discover the same volatile character as ever. _Vive le
Roi!_ is shouted as vigorously as _Vive l’Empereur!_ was, I am told, a
few years since, when Bonaparte made his then really popular entry, and
gave his fêtes here, of which the most fulsome _procès verbal_ still
exists, signed by a maire-adjoint of the same name as the one who now
signs the King’s proclamation, and I believe he is the same man—Lameluc.
The inhabitants are all at work as usual, and very active.
Fleurs-de-lys are now upon the skirts of the coats instead of eagles,
and last night on the theatre dropscene. The busts of Bonaparte are
smashed. The Capitolium ornaments are all undergoing a change. All
the N.’s and B.’s, &c., are effaced; and the workmen are now busily
employed working round the cornice of the great staircase at the
Capitol, changing all the alternate ornaments of a handsome cornice,
every other one having been a _bee_. The English are everything, and in
general estimation. To return the compliment of our wearing their white
cockade on our black one, they now wear a black one on their white.
The Spaniards are considered much as the Cossacks. The Capitolium is a
very fine building, and as the splendid velvet and gold canopy, and the
throne of Bonaparte at one end, had no decided emblems except that of
authority generally, it has, after some doubts, been allowed to remain,
and is not destroyed. We are to have a grand ball there, it is said,
given on Sunday, by the inhabitants, if approved of, and we stay.
The theatre is about the size of the Haymarket Theatre; in width rather
larger, but much deeper, and something in the improved shape of Covent
Garden. The actors are tolerable. It is, however, inferior to the
Bordeaux Theatre, and certainly to that of Lyons.
The stone bridge over the Garonne, of seven arches, is very solid and
substantial, wide, and upon the whole a splendid work, but not very
graceful in its architecture. It is like Kew bridge in general shape,
but in much heavier and substantial proportions.
Several improvements have been some time since commenced in the city,
but most of them are now at a stand, and have been so for some time.
The cathedral of St. Etienne is an unfinished Gothic building, the
great aisle being wanting to the new building. Instead of this, a large
sort of Westminster Hall, of more ancient date, joins the cathedral on
one side. This was originally intended to be pulled down or altered.
There is some good tapestry and fine painted glass, which have escaped
here, as in several other churches, the revolutionary destruction.
The streets here are like the old parts of Paris, in general narrow,
with a gutter in the middle; and the houses very good, but high shops
below, and three stories of good rooms above. Several handsome hotels,
with their great gates and small gardens. I am in a dirty place, but
tolerably well off. The people are civil; I have good stabling, and one
comfortable room, now it is cleaned.
C—— gives rather a strange account of our Allies, but seems to think
from their numbers, and the general feeling, that the business has at
last been well-blundered through. There is a good story told of an
incident which happened at the interview with Soult the other day.
The substance of the news somehow got wind, and the army, whilst the
Marshal was closeted with C——, gave a loud shout. The aide-de-camp
went to inquire the cause, and returned saying, “_Ce n’est qu’un
lièvre, Monseigneur_.” You ought to know that nothing causes a louder
shout amongst troops than a hare crossing them. General M—— said the
aide-de-camp should have been asked whether it was a Leipzig hare? If
Soult does not declare himself, his army will, I think, desert him. I
have now only just received a letter from you, of the 22nd March, and
papers.
The French works at the entrance of the town, by the bridge (_tête de
pont_), were very strong, and cost much in labour and materials, for no
use. They were formed by close piles of timber like the caissons for
the foundation of a bridge, filled up with earth, and the tops lined by
barrels of earth, with a ditch and guns, &c., placed, and the walls of
the buildings round all loop-holed.
I rode all over the positions of the battle yesterday, on the hills,
and examined all the forts and the monuments of French industry and
British courage. They were most formidable places to approach, for the
hills formed a regular smooth glacis from the works at the top to the
valley below, and half way down were long low heaps of sod, or turf,
made up to protect the advanced sharp-shooters, who were lying safe on
the ground, protected behind them, though the barrier was not above two
feet high. A church and a house loop-holed, formed the sort of citadel
to two of the forts or redoubts for musquetry, with the guns around
the outside. The ditches were not so deep, nor the works so complete
as those near Vera, where the French had more time, nor were the roads
or mountains so difficult to ascend; but there was less shelter to
approach, from the greater smoothness of the ground. Almost the only
chance of safety was following some hollow roads, and a ride or two on
the hills.
_16th (4 o’clock)._—I have just heard that the mail goes in half an
hour. There is, therefore, little time to add to this. Colonel G—— is
come back: Soult very civil, but high and proud in his manner, not yet
satisfied, and so circumstanced, does not yet join the royal cause; the
consequence is, I hear, that the troops move to-morrow morning, and I
fear we shall do the same then or soon after. This is very provoking,
for the general result seems clear, and all bloodshed now useless. I
suspect the truth of the hare story, as it is said that Soult’s army
is still ignorant of what has happened, at least, nearly so. Pains
are now being taken to circulate the proclamations, news, &c., in all
directions round him, that the troops may learn the real state of
things. I have to-day received the parcel from you, letter to 29th, and
newspapers. Many thanks.
The museum here contains but a bad second-rate set of pictures. About a
hundred have been carried away during the month of March, no one knows
where; but I presume they were the best of those which were portable
from their size.
There has been some difference of opinion, and confusion, we hear, at
Montauban about royalty. Bayonne, it is to be feared, will abide by
Soult, and do nothing yet.
_Head-Quarters, Toulouse, April 18th, 1814, 5 o’clock._—The troops
moved as I told you yesterday, and the order was actually out for
head-quarters to move to-day, when Count Gazan came in yesterday, about
mid-day, to announce Marshal Soult’s submission, I believe, to the new
order of things, and to arrange cantonments, &c., for the two armies.
He was closeted with General Murray a long time, and arrangements were
made. He returned this morning to have the articles ratified, and
to-night Lord G. Lennox has orders to be in readiness to go to England
through Paris with the news. This last fact you will, perhaps, have
heard, and probably before you get this.
We had yesterday a grand _Te Deum_, a most strange noisy military
and religious ceremony attended with all the drums and military band;
French civic soldiers, with their hats on, hallooing, shouting,
singing, organs, &c., an immense crowd, and great cordiality.
Unluckily, Gazan passed the door as the crowd was coming out; he was
hooted, and saluted with “_A bas Soult!_” &c. This was a pity, but
these changeable gentlemen are all in extremes. The troops are all
going into cantonments immediately, and we shall for some time, I
conclude, be quiet.
The bad news from Bayonne is very unlucky. General Hope is, I hear, not
dangerously wounded; and his aide-de-camp is gone to Bayonne to comfort
him in his confinement, which I trust will now be soon over. The affair
seems to have been a surprise in a great measure, and the chief loss
was in regaining the church, &c., of St. Etienne, which had been easily
lost at first. Lord Dalhousie, on the other hand, seems to have gone on
well alone, across the Dordogne.
The arsenal is here on a very large scale, and would have been a very
great acquisition, were the war to have gone on. The French carried
away almost everything but materials, of which there is abundance of
wheel carriages, &c., and all the forges, &c., in order.
_Head-Quarters, Toulouse, April 23rd, 1814._—Our life has now fallen
into the old routine way again, and not only without daily events and
little incidents to excite the mind, as has hitherto been the case,
but also with the additional flatness and indifference, which cannot
but be felt so immediately after a succession of such occurrences as
have taken place within the last month. You will now have only the
tittle-tattle of a country town (a French town certainly, and therefore
somewhat novel), with which you must be satisfied. When Count Gazan
came over here, to settle the terms of the armistice and line of
demarcation, &c., with Generals Murray and Wimpfen, he was so much
engaged that I could not see him, as I wished to do, and he went very
suddenly back again. The terms you will see in the papers.
When all the Spanish garrisons are collected in France, this southern
French army will again be respectable. Our troops are all moving into
their cantonments along the Garonne on the left bank, except a few on
this right bank, within the department of the Haute Garonne, which
remains nearly all ours for the present. We have had a variety of
strangers—the two Sir Charles Stewarts the first place. The Lisbon
minister only stopped here one day on his way to Holland; the other Sir
Charles, from Paris, came, as it is whispered here, to signify a wish
on the part of the Allies that Lord Wellington would be the English
commissioner at the general Congress. If so, and this seems very
probable, I think he does well to refuse, for he cannot stand higher
than he does. Were he to go, the other diplomatists would be surprised
at his method of getting through business. We should certainly have a
general peace many weeks sooner, if not months, than we are likely to
have otherwise.
I was walking with C—— in Lord Wellington’s garden about eight o’clock
in the morning, three days since, when we saw a queer-looking figure
approach, of whom we could make out nothing from the complete mixture
of undress and magnificence—a pair of not clean overalls on, a common
short pelisse, and a foraging cap, but the whole breast covered with
stars and little crosses, and swords and orders of all sorts.
I was not a little surprised at being introduced to Sir Charles
Stewart. He had arrived at two in the morning and had gone to bed,
without sending word to Lord Wellington, depending upon finding him at
home at eight o’clock, when to his mortification he found that Lord
Wellington had been since five in the morning out hunting; and when
Sir Charles asked where he could go to meet him, the best information
he could get was, that it was in a forest somewhere about eighteen
miles distant, but no one knew exactly where, for the only persons who
knew, about four in number, were out with him. Patience, therefore, was
his only remedy; and instead of being off again in two hours as he said
he had intended, he was obliged to stay long enough to give us a few
anecdotes from the Allies. Two of Marshal Suchet’s aides-de-camp, and
two or three French colonels from his army and that of Soult, have also
been here.
With one of Suchet’s aides-de-camp I had much conversation. He is a
gentleman-like young man. He told me that Suchet was at Perpignan
when he heard of Soult’s affair here; but that he then thought it
prudent to hasten to Narbonne, and there he was when the news from
Paris arrived. Had the war gone on, therefore, we should evidently
have had a dance, as I expected, to the Mediterranean, on the road to
Montpelier, after these united marshals, and should have required your
utmost exertions and reinforcements from England; as it is, all is
well. Suchet’s aide-de-camp said that he found very different feelings
towards Soult in this country from what there were towards his master
in the districts where he had commanded, and that he feared Soult had
conducted himself very badly. The two marshals are, I understand, very
jealous of each other. I asked him if Suchet had the least notion or
expectation previously of what has happened. He said, “No: who could
expect such a change in the minds of every one, and such a revolution
in seven days’ time?” Then he laughed, and said, “At present we were
_à la mode_;” and as I met him at the grand ball at the Capitole here
again, he said, “There, you have nothing to do now but to make the most
of your advantages, and amuse yourselves: all the beauties have now
declared for you.”
I rather pitied him, when at that meeting a number of pert apprentices,
with immense white cockades on, and some still with Napoleon buttons
and smart civic uniforms, were continually coming up to him, and
reaching about up to his chin, asking him, pertly, “Oh! are you Soult’s
aide-de-camp, or Suchet’s? Well, how do you like what is going on?”
fellows, that a month ago would have almost cleaned his shoes had they
been asked. Some of them even thought he was English, and in bad patois
French, complimented him on the progress he had made in the French
language. His military pride was much put to the trial, and he could
hardly smother his feelings. He then asked me to show him his new King,
of whom there was an old picture hung up, as he said it was now time
to make acquaintance with his new sovereign, as well as with this new
state of society.
The grand ball given by the town at the Capitole on Thursday went off
well, except that it was just such a crowd as an Easter Monday ball at
the Mansion House. The rooms were very handsome, and the five hundred
English, Spanish, and Portuguese officers added not a little to the
effect of the scene. Nearly the whole were generals, aide-de-camps,
staff-officers, or at least field-officers, and every order and
ornament of every nation was worn. Lord Wellington was most splendid.
The amusement commenced by leading him into the Salle de Trone
_ci-devant_ Bonaparte, where, over the vacant chair in the centre, was
the picture of King Louis XVIII., and on each side that of the Duke
d’Angoulême, and one of Lord Wellington himself—the latter a hasty
caricature likeness taken by a painter here at the play from memory. He
was then entertained with a short concert, principally consisting of La
Chasse d’Henri IV., and “God save the King,” sung by the public singers
from a gallery, amidst the clouds—goddesses and cupids painted above
them.
I had got Mr. K——, the famous English officer singer, to go with me
to the leader of the band, and to give him the catch-club harmony of
“God save the King,” and we wrote them down full instructions, and all
the words for the song, solo, trio, chorus, &c., the words spelt also
according to the French pronunciation, while the musician caught by the
ear and scribbled down all the parts, one by one, from K——’s singing.
It was an interesting scene. They had a rehearsal, and Mr. K—— gave the
_prima donna_ a few private lessons, and the whole in consequence went
off really surprisingly well. The supper-tables were filled by about
four sets successively, the English having the preference, sentinels
letting us in, and keeping out the French until the last. This went on
until there was not even bread and water remaining.
The press, now, is at work here, printing Cevallo’s old history of
the conduct of the French in Spain, and a variety of things, which
to the natives are news. There seems to be a disposition to buy the
books and read; nothing, however, will make the French what Cobbett
calls us, “a thinking people.” They seem to be as frivolous as ever.
The next thing wished for here, and at Bordeaux, is to get rid of this
new constitution, and have the Bourbons as before; at least the party
is strong for this line, and, unless something decisive is done soon,
and the old military dispersed about, and gens-d’armes, I think they
will even yet have a squabble about several things among themselves,
which makes me wish that we should be off as soon as possible, and
have nothing to do with them. As soon as all the foreign garrisons are
withdrawn, and the line of the French empire settled, the faster we
withdraw from within it the better. I always expected the royal cause
would gain ground as it has, when once fairly tried. It was the only
source of peace, and that was what all wanted, on any terms. Of course
the acceptance of the Bourbons made it all easy; but I believe all the
southern departments would gladly have been English, to secure peace,
and get sugar, sell their wines, and get rid of conscriptions and
acquisitions.
Lord Wellington gives another grand ball at the _ci-devant_ Prefecture,
now Palais Royale, on Monday next. On Tuesday, he resigns his place
there to the Duke d’Angoulême, and as there is an old adage about two
kings of Brentford, I suspect he will soon afterwards take a trip
somewhere else, at least for a time. I doubt, however, his leaving the
armies altogether, while they remain in force, and the French marshals
likewise.
Bordeaux must be very proud of the example they have given to France.
They must take especial care to conceal their subsequent alarms, and
half-repentance of what they have done.