As we proceeded, we heard a heavy firing as if from the left of the town, and soon after beheld a disorganized mass of Spanish soldiers flying towards us. At first some of our fellows took them for the French, and fired among them, by which some lives were lost. They were a part of the Spanish force who attempted to carry a French fort or redoubt, from which the enemy had sent them to the right-about faster than they had come. We continued to approach the town, which was protected by a long series of fortifications, and that appeared full of men. On our approaching, they opened a running fire from some field-works, but with little execution, as we were sheltered by some trees and walls of houses near the place where we halted. We had not remained in this quiescent state long, when the thunder of the conflict was heard going on in full roar on our left: the salvos of artillery, with the constant cracking of musketry and the rushing sound of shells, together with the occasional wild “hurra,” formed a very pretty concert. The scene was still more electrifying when we found it to be the sixth division engaged in storming batteries, which the Spaniards had just run from; they at length carried them, after a hard tug, in glorious style; General Picton’s division was also conspicuously engaged on our right, close to the river. The general attack was crowned with the Duke of Wellington’s usual success: the enemy retreating over the bridges of the canal of Languedoc into the town of Toulouse, while we took possession of their outworks. The French army on the second day evacuated Toulouse, as the town was completely commanded by the batteries we had taken. Our battalion was ordered to take possession of part of the suburbs, near the canal. Although there was a strict order that no man should be allowed to go into the town, my curiosity induced me to take “French leave” to see a place I had heard so much of; so I managed to elude the vigilance of the sentry. I found almost all the shops open, and business going on apparently as if nothing had taken place. Hearing that the theatre was open, I was induced to pay it a visit: it was very crowded. One box I perceived very magnificently fitted up, and surmounted by laurel, and while I was wondering for whose occupation it was intended, my curiosity was at once allayed by the arrival of the Duke and his staff, who were received with loud acclamations. “God save the King” was played, and all appeared to testify the greatest pleasure on the occasion but myself. I, indeed, I must fairly confess, feared that my insignificance would not conceal me from the glance of the chief or some of his staff, although wedged into the centre of a dense crowd in the pit. My dark dress, however, effectually screened me. CHAPTER XXII.