Memoirs of the Late War, Vol 2 (of 2): Comprising the Personal Narrative of Captain Cooke, of the 43rd Regiment Light Infantry; the History of the Campaign of 1809 in Portugal, by the Earl of Munster; and a Narrative of the Campaign of 1814 in Holland, by Lieut. T. W. D. Moodie, H. P. 21st FusileersCooke, John Henry, Sir
History
Memoirs of the Late War, Vol 2 (of 2): Comprising the Personal Narrative of Captain Cooke, of the 43rd Regiment Light Infantry; the History of the Campaign of 1809 in Portugal, by the Earl of Munster; and a Narrative of the Campaign of 1814 in Holland, by Lieut. T. W. D. Moodie, H. P. 21st Fusileers
Cooke, John Henry, Sir
Europe -- History -- 1789-1815
When we reached the foot of the bridge, General Sir Thomas Picton
declined halting the third division; and it was not until he had
received the most _positive instructions_ to halt, that he did so. His
troops were standing up and down the ladders as we passed them, when
a variety of curses and imprecations took place; all the battles of
Spain and Portugal were fought over again, with a mixture of rage and
good humour: some vociferated that they could always lead the light
division, whilst the older soldiers were satisfied, voluntarily, to
follow them: "Let us follow the _Lights_, it is our right; no division
is entitled to bring up our rear except the fourth; we are the takers
of fortified towns, and the General-in-chief's _three lucky divisions_!"
The Duke of Dalmatia now left the high road and the fine town of
Bordeaux to its fate, and retired, with his principal force, up the
right bank of the Adour, to support his left flank at the town of
Barcelone, and to meet General Hill's corps, which had branched off
to the right, and was moving in the direction of Air, to threaten the
French Marshal's communication with Toulouse; a point he could not give
up, it being the pivot of his defence on the formidable river Garonne.
All the way to Mont de Marsan the road is straight and sandy. Instead
of being received with hostility at that place, as we anticipated, we
were agreeably surprised to see the people flocking without the town
in vast crowds, to see _les étrangers_. Our clothing was old, and
almost the whole of the men wore blanket trousers. The French expressed
much wonder at seeing the troops of the richest nation in the world
so threadbare[22] and poorly clad. The band struck up, and the women
exclaimed, "_Ma foi! les Anglais ont de la musique! et voilà de beaux
jeunes gens aussi!_" The shops were open, and the inhabitants proffered
their merchandize with an easy assurance of manner, as if we had been a
century amongst them: so much for a divided nation; so much for honour
and glory, and the extreme _bon ton_ of civilization!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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